#canon compliant

[alltoounwellll]

wolfstar fanfic is either the longest slow burn ever or they lock eyes for 1 second and decide immediately that they are soulmates

there is no in between

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #marauders era #sirius x remus #sirius black x remus lupin #wolfstar au #canon compliant

[kaitokitty19]

Detective Conan Chap 1122

#shinichi: ‘are they flirting in front of the police and a dead body?’ #Shinichi is tired from having to deal with these two #watching someone with your face flirting agressively with someone you kinda know is disturbing #and then Hakuba had the gall to flirt with Ran hahaahahahahahah #dcmk #hakukai #hakuba saguru #detco #detective Conan #kuroba kaito #magic kaito #kaitou kid #sagukai #白快 #하쿠카이 #edogawa conan #can’t blame him #canon compliant

[girly-blogging]

rhaenys burns the greens in the pit, goes to dragonstone to tell rhaenyra about the coup but says she’s already fixed everything. they all go back to king’s landing and the true queen is crowned. rhaenys is the queen’s hand. baby visenya is born a few weeks after the crowning. rhaenyra and daemon are living the pure domestic bliss with all their children. they all lived happily ever after. THE END! good night everyone!

#canon compliant #that’s canon #house of the dragon #house targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #princess rhaenys #daemon targaryen #game of thrones #westeros #daemyra #team black #jace targaryen #luke velaryon #visenya targaryen

[jamaicangalartist12]

This Kills Me

#the dragon prince #callum #rayla #rayllum #tdp #tdp spoilers #dragon prince season 5 #the saga continues #situationships #enimes to lovers #spoliers #canon compliant #aaron ehasz

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

Conclusions

Ginny's run out of her good parchment and has been reduced to using something she dug out of the bottom of her trunk, hating the way her quill scratches over the rough surface. As though it isn’t punishment enough to be writing about History of Magic, she’s got to do it on this piece of rubbish. 

“Bloody, buggering fu–” she swears as the point of her quill pierces a hole straight through her conclusion. Apt, probably - it had been flimsy at best. There’s a metaphor here, somewhere.

“Revision going well, then?”

The wry voice startles her so much that she nearly upends her bottle of ink all over her weak – in more ways than one – essay. “Fuck, Harry, I’d no idea you were there.”

She blinks up at him in surprise and finds him smirking, standing at the table she’s claimed in a corner of the library, looking adorably entertained by her plight. His bookbag is slung carelessly over his shoulder, his hair mussed, his stupid face made more handsome by the teasing lilt of his smile. Her heart flutters a bit, because that’s just what it always does with him. She ignores it valiantly, and hates him for it, a little. 

“Sorry,” he says, though he sounds more amused than anything. “Mind if I sit?”

“Course,” she says, gesturing to the seat opposite. “Can’t guarantee there won’t be more swearing, though.” 

He eyes her holey essay as he sits, jerking his head questioningly toward the parchment. “What’re you working on?”

“Something for Binns.”

“Ah, I’d be swearing, too.”

“Fucking hell, eh?”

They share a smile, and Ginny reckons she’d be better off writing an essay about that - the way she knows exactly when he’ll find something funny; the way jokes fall a bit flat when the punchline isn’t his eyes seeking her out, green and piercing and flickering with amusement. She’d fill the parchment with ease. 

It’s easy to write about something you can’t stop reading into. 

Just like she’s madly reading into the way he’s shown up here - no Ron, no Hermione - and sought her out, like it’s normal, like they’ve been doing this for years even though they haven’t. It feels like they have, though. That’s the worst part of it.

“What’re you doing here?” she asks, like he might just come right out and say it - to see you.

He doesn’t. She pretends that she can’t be disappointed by what she expects. 

“Transfiguration,” he says darkly. 

“Where’re Ron and Hermione, then?” she prods, picking at it like a scab, like a masochist. I wanted to get you alone, she urges him to say. I’ve been trying to all week and I haven’t even been subtle about it.

“Dunno,” he shrugs. Scabs bleed when you pick them, incidentally. “I can survive an evening without them, you know.”

“Can you? I don’t reckon your track record is all that spectacular on that front, if I’m honest.”

“Hey, I haven’t died even once.”

“Right,” she jokes. “Angling for a new nickname? ‘The Boy Who Hasn’t Died, Even Once’?”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Rolls right off the tongue, that.”

“I’ll owl Rita for you. We can workshop something”

They smile.

She wants to shake him until he admits to it, confesses, like this thing brewing between them is a crime. She wants to lay all the evidence out in front of him, the aspiring Auror, and see what he makes of it. He can’t quip his way around the smiles and the banter and the looks he gives her. See, she’ll say, don’t you see?

He’s got shit vision. 

They sit together for far longer than she’d planned to stay. At some point he adjusts in his seat, and his foot winds up touching hers, and he doesn’t even have the decency to move it. She fancies she can feel his warmth through their trainers, but no - it must be her own traitorous heart, frantically pumping warm blood to her foot like it’s the only part of her body that needs it, like the parts of her that aren’t touching him have ceased to matter because maybe they have. 

Maybe she’s been distilled to the edge of her foot.

They talk about strategies for the Quidditch final, and OWLs, and argue playfully about which of her mum’s mince pies is the best. Ginny’s always fancied herself good at impressions, but she surprises even herself with her impression of easy nonchalance. All the while it’s building - each look, each smile, each easy joke they set each other up for feels like a firework she’s adding to the heap in her chest, ready to explode with the slightest spark. 

You’ve got me alone, she tells him. Do something about it.

It’s nearly curfew. They start gathering their things, and still he hasn’t done anything. If he were any other boy, Ginny would cut through the bullshit herself, but something holds her back. She can’t fully articulate, unravel, why, but she needs him to be the one to admit it. She needs him to decide she’s worth the risk. He’s meant to be brave, isn’t he?

As she’s packing it away, Ginny remembers her abandoned essay, still punctured pathetically. She sighs, holds it up for Harry’s evaluation. “Think Binns’ll even notice?”

“Give it here,” he says, and she hands it over. He pulls his wand from his robes and waves it wordlessly, the gaping tear sewing itself together so it might never have been there. Ginny doesn’t know why she hadn’t thought to do that herself. 

“Thanks. Only now, I’ve actually got to write a damn conclusion.”

He laughs and holds it back out to her. “You’re on your own.”

“Aren’t you meant to have a hero complex?” she quips, pushing the parchment back toward him. “Some useful saving-people thing? Have a go.”

To her immense surprise, he shoots her a wry smirk that sends a tingle through her stomach. “Alright.” He pulls out the quill he’d only just packed away, scrawls something at the bottom of her parchment, shielding it from view.  

She’s gone utterly daft. Her heart is hammering in her chest, beating a tattoo on her ribcage; she wonders if her fingers are trembling as they reach across to take her essay back, fully convinced she’ll find the words Go out with me scribbled there. 

In conclusion, he’d written, this essay is over.

She snorts, mostly at herself. She’s officially deluded. Cracked. What is wrong with her?

“Wow. Thanks for that,” she says drily. “How would Binns have known otherwise?”

He grins. “Anytime.”

“Totally unrelated, but do you offer refunds? Perhaps a voucher for another Harry Potter rescue at a later date?”

“Non-refundable. Sorry.”

“I’m going to be honest,” she lies. “I expected a better rescue than that.”

He shrugs. “You expect too much from The Boy Who Hasn’t Died, Even Once.”

She can’t help herself; she laughs. His eyes seek hers out - green, so green, twinkling with amusement and something that looks so fond. She’s going to set fire to the heap of fireworks in her chest, just to get it over with. She’ll explode in color, driven to madness by the boy who hadn’t died even once but who’d killed her, slowly, with smiles. 

In conclusion, she thinks, I’m utterly fucked.

#hinny #canon compliant #hbp missing moment #it's still valentine's day somewhere #not here #but somewhere

[pollyna]

Mav stays. He stays after Ice hugs him and asks who's the better pilot. He stays over for dinner, sharing the table with Sarah and people he doesn't care to know because all that matters is Tom. He stays even after Ice asks, writes down, about work and if he doesn't have anywhere else better to be, but Mav smiles and says no, because nowhere is better than here.

Mav stays after dinner and asks, with all smiles and politeness, to let him help Tom out to prepare for bed, and no, no, even the bathroom part isn't going to be a problem—we saw each other in much worse conditions! They end up sharing a sink, brushing their teeth, Ice without a shirt on, and Mav hugging him from behind. I missed you, he whispers against his wingman's shoulder before kissing a freckle, and I missed you too, the man signs in the mirror. He stays even after, when it's barely eight o'clock, but Ice is too tired to stay awake. He stays, and Tom makes space for him in his bed, as he did every day of his life, making space for Mav and what Mav needed the most. Who is he to say no? He stays even when Ice tries to protest, and even when they are both so close to crying, that's inevitable. He stays and shares a bed and a pillow, and Ice is alive under Mav's fingerprints.

He stays for every single time he couldn't and he stays even when Warlock is looking at him from the other side of the breakfast table. He stays until he can't anymore, and even then, when he has to go, it’s under protest, and he would scream, cry, and beg to stay and not move from Ice's side because he has to be there; he can't leave his wingman behind. He refused to. 

“See you later,” Mav says, kissing both of Ice's cheeks and his nose.

“See you later, Mav." Ice answers, smiling as brightly as the sun.

Mav stays until he can't, then he has to leave, and then it's time for Ice to go, and Mav can't help but think that if he had stayed, maybe Tom would have too.

#if (my) love could have saved you you would have lived forever #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #canon divergence #and #canon compliant

[my-castles-crumbling]

calming draught - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 295

Loud barks that cut off into screams cause Remus to sit up violently in bed, looking around, heart racing.

But he knew what the sounds were.

Grabbing another calming draught from his own bedside table, he walked to the guestroom where a horribly gaunt man sat, eyes bulging as he panted, long black hair going every which way.

"Here," Remus murmured, resisting the urge to reach out, to touch, to comfort. Briefly a flashback flew across his mind of a younger version of this very same man, the same grey-blue eyes wide from a nightmare. But the version in his head, instead of curling his thin arms around himself protectively, reached out. Asked for protection and love. Melted with words of comfort whispered in his ear.

This version, though, was a shell of the boy he once knew. This version of Sirius Black was haunted and terrified and shaking. He flinched away when Remus passed him the potion, and didn't make eye contact at all.

"M'sorry, Moons," Sirius murmured, still curled tightly, rocking slightly, looking away. "I...I don't know how to-what to-"

"It doesn't matter," Remus interrupted, sitting on the very edge of the bed, so as not to startle him. "Sirius, I'm not going anywhere."

And it was true. He would literally rather die than lose Sirius again. Even this version of Sirius was more than he'd ever dared hope for. He was more than Remus's wildest dreams. He would take him a thousand times over.

So when thin, shaking, tattooed fingers reached out to brush at Remus's own hand, neither man could suppress a sob. "Please. Merlin, please don't," Sirius whispered desperately, tracing lightly over the scars on Remus's hand.

But of course, it was Sirius who left him again, in the end.

#oops #sorry guys #marauders #marauders era #harry potter #fanfic #marauders fandom #harry potter marauders #the marauders #the marauders era #the marauders fandom #sirius x lupin #remus x sirius #sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius x remus #remus loves sirius #remus lupin #remus john lupin #sirius black deserved better #sirius black x remus lupin #remus lupin deserved better #canon compliant #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #wolfstarmicrofic #sad wolfstar

[embracing-the-ineffable]

Orbiting a Memory

Thanks to the @go-minisode-minibang, I'm so excited to share this dreamy and lovingly detailed illustration by @altonthebard:

It accompanies my new fan fiction, Orbiting a Memory: a dreamy, eldritch tale full of visions, magic, and dancing! In the year 1634, Agnes Nutter and Galileo are each influencing - or preparing to influence - the world in their own ways. But where are Agnes' prophecies coming from? Saraqael, full of loneliness and longing and serving as both muse and puppet master, knows the answer to that.

Have you ever wondered what would have happened if one small, important conversation had changed the course of everything between Aziraphale and Crowley? On a magical night that no one will remember, Saraqael shares some secrets, spreads some hope, and inadvertently makes sure that's exactly what happens.

Or does it?

I'm delighted to share the release of this illustration and story as part of my Good Omens Day of ✨Dance✨! Please go share some love (and reblogs!) with all the artists!

#ineffable dance #day of dancing #saraqael #good omens fanart #good omens fanfiction #canon compliant #forgiveness #first kiss #good omens dancing #memory shenanigans #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale and crowley #aziracrow #ineffable lovers #ineffable husbands #agnes nutter #galileo #good omens art #good omens #ineffable fandom #ineffable fanart #good omens fandom

[tetheredfeathers]

A little something I wrote inspired by this line.

Never having been in love, this is going to be a real trick. I think of my parents, the way my father never failed to bring her gifts from the woods.

She always brought him something from the woods.

The first time she brought him a single dandelion.

It had been a long winter, and the sun had only begun to peek through the cold shadows. It had been a good hunt today, with 2 rabbits and a squirrel shot right through the eyes. Her short dark hair tickled her neck as she practically skipped back home.

That's when she saw it – the first spring flower, a lone dandelion lurking between the wet shadows. She scurried towards it and quickly plucked it, almost afraid it would run away if she wasn't fast enough.

"Peetaaa," her voice rang through the house as she peeled off her shoes and hung her father's hunting jacket on the hooks Peeta had installed for her.

"In here," Peeta called from the kitchen.

She found him all serious, wrinkle between his eyebrows as he kneaded some dough. She skirted towards him wanting kiss the lines between his eyes.

"Hi, bread boy," she whispered sweetly before kissing the frosting off his lips.

"Hi," he said in between kisses

"Mhm, vanilla." Katniss breathed licking his lips.

"Here, try this," he said, spreading a thick layer of icing on a cinnamon roll and handing it her.

"Mhmm, so good. Thank you baby," she said between huge mouthfuls.

"I got you something from town today," Peeta sang, reaching into his pockets.

"Show me, show me," Katniss almost begged.

"You know Thom's little sister, Darlene," she nodded. "Yeah, well, she was really happy with her birthday cake and wanted to give me something in return."

He pulled out a long strip of transparent lace.

Katniss' face broke into a huge smile. "A ribbon? What does she think you're 12 to go around wearing ribbons?" she teased.

"Be nice, Katniss, she's only five. I doubt she knows how to gift a grown man," Peeta said.

"You do know she has a crush on you, right?" Katniss said, grabbing another cinnamon roll, stuffing her mouth once again.

"Who doesn't?" Peeta sassed, swaying his hips.

"I don't," Katniss rolled her eyes.

"Oh really?" he eyed her mischievously before grabbing her arms, leaving all but an inch between their sugary lips. "I wouldn't be too sure about that."

She shuddered involuntarily. Even after a year of being with him, just being near him made her weak in the knees. His warm hands slid down her arms before gently turning her around so that her back faced him. Slowly, he brought his hands up to her hair, bunching half her hair into a ponytail and tying the flimsy lace into a bow.

She turned around, beaming in his arms, peering into those blue eyes.

"Wow, birdie, look at yourself."

She blushed bright red before pulling out her dandelion from underneath the table.

"For you," she said shyly, holding it right under his face.

"Thank you, birdie," he said, delicately taking it from her hands as if it would slip from his grasp like water.

Her blush deepened. She loved it when he called her that. It reminded her of her father, that he was still a part of her, and just like him, she still sang wild and free. A bird that's what she was.

"You're my dandelion in the spring, you know that, right?" she whispered.

"I know," he whispered back, burying her mouth in long, warm kiss.

After that, she brought him something every day. Sometimes it would be tufts of dill or rye. Other times, she would bring him shiny stones that reminded her of the color of his eyes. Sometimes a feather or a leaf, but mostly she brought him flowers. She brought him wild onions because it reminded her of the day she broke her heart. She brought him daisies because they were as pure and white like his soul. She brought him sunflowers because he was her sun and followed him everywhere he went.

He kept a whole shelf dedicated to her gifts and pressed the flowers inside his notebook. It helped remind him that all was not lost on the more difficult days when she could not get out of bed or talk to him.

And on the night they conceived their first child, she whispered into his arms.

"I'm going to call her Dandelion."

#everlark #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #peeta mellark #katniss and peeta #thg #thg mockingjay #post mockingjay #canon compliant #fluff #peeta x katniss #katniss x peeta #the hunger games peeta #thg series #thg fanfiction #catching fire #hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games trilogy #the hunger games fanfiction

[risafeywritesdrarry]

Harry said, “I’m tired of us squabbling like cats—and I get the impression you are too. So can we agree to get along, or at least agree to disagree? Or would you at least tell me what it is you hate about me so much?”

Draco readjusted his stance. He stepped forward and set both feet firmly on the ground in front of Harry. “You want to know why I hate you?” he breathed viperously. “I hate you, Potter, because you can do no wrong according to Professor Dumbledore. I hate how that stupid scar of yours commands the crowds wherever you go—and I hate how you’re always the center of attention—and that you ever had the nerve to say no to me. I hate how bright and green your beautiful eyes are, and I hate the blank look on your face whenever you look at me like that…”

Stunned by the confusion of words he had just heard, Harry worked his mouth on a soundless question. When he recovered his voice, he managed to say, “Malfoy… what do my beautiful eyes have to do with anything?”

#drarry fandom #drarry #draco malfoy #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #drarry fic #harry potter #hogwarts era #love story #draco x harry #harry x draco #ao3 #canon compliant #hpdm #Drarry Is Canon #mine #my writing

[ohbluesky]

HII here’s a lil something for @thominho-week-2023!!! 

- Day 2: Road Trip

- Day 3: “I really thought I lost you”

#The Maze Runner #tmr #thominho #tmr thomas #tmr minho #thominho week 2023 #tmwd2 #tmwd3 #myart #YES i'm so happy that i had time to draw something this year!!! #kinda imagining jorge popping his head outta the window giving a few taps on the car like HEY for the last time BERTHA ISN'T A DATING SPOT #OH i should add Jorge to tags damn #tmr jorge #there #anyway yes those are also #canon compliant #minho deserves to be hugged #i like that he's just like. holding his Emotions in as thomas wakes up from the dead and the hug just. opens the Fucking Dam #if you think i've had enough of angtsy safe haven thominho you are DEAD WRONG and guess what i got MORE coming #(someday) #(eventually)

[awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce]

Peace At Last

A purely self-indulgent Ten x Reader fic because I just love Ten so much okay! (gif made by me)

Let me know what you think!

Read on ao3

Tagging some people I’ve recently followed who I think might like it: @denaliwrites @tatennant @doctor-donnaa @quite-right-too @theetherealbloom @my-lonely-angel @casasupernovas @kbishop @tennant @raining-stars-somewhere-else @davidtennan-t

Ten x Reader, she/her/hers pronouns, one use of Y/N

(Sorry if this causes pain especially since it’s the last episode with Fourteen and David Tennant as The Doctor today. Wishing everyone so much love and hope you can cope with the pain we will all be experiencing in 5 hours!)

They bumped into each other.

Literally.

He wasn’t looking where he was going, just trying to focus on not collapsing in the street before he could make it back to the TARDIS, and she was coming out of a shop.

This was almost the end.

He could feel it.

He felt it when he saw Rose but he couldn’t let go.

Not yet.

He had one more stop.

He wanted to be near where she lived.

He just wanted to be near her.

One last time.

He didn’t want to wipe her memory but he had to.

It wasn’t like it was with Donna but he knew that one day she would die because of him and he didn’t want that.

He couldn’t bear the thought.

It had to be done so she could live and she never would have left of her own accord. She would never leave him willingly so what other choice did he have?

Especially after trying to change time and becoming The Time Lord Victorious. Look how that turned out.

Adelaide Brooke still died only it was his fault instead of it being an accident.

“Oh shit! Sorry! I should have been looking where I was going!” A voice said.

“No, it’s m-” He knew that voice. His luck really was great(!)

He must’ve paused for a beat too long because she spoke again. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

That was her all over. Always worrying and caring about others (him especially).

“Yeah! I’m fine!” He replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just feeling a bit under-the-weather. Winter and all, you know?” His voice didn’t sound like him. It was nervous, slightly high-pitched, and shook a little. He hoped that she didn’t know that there was something wrong.

“I know. You might want to invest in some actual winter clothes though to keep you warm. Converse and winter are not the best combination,” she laughed, looking him up and down at his unusual (to her now anyway) attire.

He could’ve cried and hugged her at hearing the jibe she’s told him multiple times while travelling with him. Instead, he forced himself to laugh and smile at her.

“Yeah, I suppose I should. Maybe one day,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. A habit that he had developed when he was nervous.

She would have noticed and usually tried to comfort him. But not now. The thought made his hearts ache.

“Sorry but do I know you?” She asked, staring at him with a slight frown. His hearts leapt into his throat. “You just seem so familiar. What’s your name?”

He quickly composed himself before replying with a classic phrase. “No, sorry, I don’t think you do. I guess I just have one of those faces. Name’s David. David Smith.”

She had told him to stop with the John Smith alias as “no-one believes that’s your name. I may as well call myself Jane Doe.” So he had changed it as soon as he wiped her mind. Just in case he ever saw her again and the name John Smith made her remember.

“David…” She trailed off, as if she was trying to place the name, still slightly frowning until the crease between her eyebrows eased. “I guess you do just face on of those faces. Sorry about that,” she finished, smiling sheepishly.

He mentally released a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding.

“No worries,” he replied, smiling to try to ease her embarrassment that he knew she was feeling.

She may not remember him but he still knew her like the back of every hand he’s ever had.

They stood there for a few moments, longer than two seemingly strangers should, just smiling at each other before she looked away, a light blush colouring her already flushed cheeks from the cold.

His hearts ached again and pain filled his entire being.

He would never get to see her blush from embarrassment due to looking at him for too long again.

“I should probably go before the snow gets worse,” she said.

He looked around and noticed that the snow had started to get heavier since they had been talking.

“Of course. Get home safe.” His voice cracked. Home should be in the TARDIS with him.

“You too. Before you go,” she said, putting a hand on his arm as he was turning the leave.

He could feel the pain of having to leave her almost bring him to his knees due to feeling her touch again. It had felt so long since he had felt that and he never wanted her to stop.

He would never feel her comforting touch or her hand in his again and he was starting to break

She was rummaging through her bag and took out a blue scarf. TARDIS blue.

“Here,” she said softly as she leaned up on her tip toes and wrapped it around his neck. “I don’t know why but I just bought this. It’s not really my thing and I don’t have anyone else to give it to but there was something in my mind that urged me to buy it. Maybe this was fate,” she chuckled. “There! Looks great!” She grinned, smoothing out the scarf and his breath caught as her fingers grazed the back of his head.

“Thank you, he responded quietly, tears filling his eyes “Truly. Thank you.” He took her hands in his and kissed the back of them.

“You’re very welcome,” she said, just as quietly as him, and blushed once more.

He let go of her hands and took a step back. He swore that he saw disappointment on her face at that.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it for too long as she had thrown her arms tightly around his waist and pressed her face into his chest, taking a deep breath of him in.

He wasn’t sure if his hearts had stopped completely or if they were beating so fast that he couldn’t feel them beating properly anymore.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, taking in the familiar and comforting scent.

The hug ended as quickly as it had started but before he could feel too disappointed, she had placed her hands on his shoulders, almost wrapping her arms around his neck like the scarf was, and pressed her lips to his cheek.

She stepped back and smiled brightly at him

“Merry Christmas, Doctor,” she said as she walked away.

He was frozen.

Did she just-?

Could she-?

No.

She couldn’t remember him.

Could she?

His brain was working faster than normal.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he called after her before he knew was he was doing.

She briefly turned back and waved, that beautiful smile still on her lips, lighting up her whole face.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he whispered, turning the corner as quickly as he could to find the TARDIS before him.

He could feel the old girl humming happily in his head and he smiled at her in return.

The image of his love didn’t leave his mind.

Not even as he noticed Ood Sigma.

Not even as he started to feel the pain of death returning.

Even when the Ood started singing to him and he felt himself burning, he could still see her.

Her smile bright and warm, helping him find peace.

At last.

~ A few streets away ~

“Huh. That was weird,” she said out loud.

Shrugging, she entered a café, still smiling and felt a warmth that travelled deep into her soul.

#doctor who #david tennant #tenth doctor x reader #ten x reader #10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor fic #tenth doctor imagine #10th doctor fic #10th doctor imagine #the doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #doctor who fic #doctor who imagine #the doctor fic #the doctor imagine #ten needs a hug #let ten be happy goddamit! #canon compliant #canon compatible #canon complicit #david tennant doctor #david tennant doctor who #david tennant tenth doctor #me #my writing #self indulgent fic

[aziraphales-library]

Heya ! I'm looking for some fics that are set post season 2. Not fixits exactly, not that I would mind fixits. But I'm looking for long canon compliant fics. Also, is there a tag for such fics ?

We have #good omens s2 and #canon compliant tags. On ao3 you'll want to use the tags "Post-Season/Series 02" and "Canon Compliant", which is what I did to find you these...

scherzo in f-sharp minor, for orchestra by astrhae (M)

It was a truth universally acknowledged that an angel in possession of no memory must be in want of a wife. No, that was the wrong book. The wrong line. Aziraphale frowned. “What,” the gentleman before him asked, “and I mean what, are you doing here?” ----------------- Or, two years after things fall apart, Aziraphale shows up at Crowley's doorstep without his memories. The easy part is getting it back, the hard part is getting them back together.

Until the Bitter End by sentientsky (T)

After learning the truth about Heaven's plans and fruitlessly trying to fix a corrupt system (and maybe also having his memory messed with a little bit in the process), Aziraphale slips back to Earth in search of Crowley.

i will make it better, if only for us by davethefish (T)

With Aziraphale in Heaven, everything that Crowley loved has left the earth. He doesn't know what to do, so he starts small. Maybe someday he'll love the earth as much as he loved Aziraphale. It's time for him to remember why he chose to stay in the first place.

Black Holes and Revelations by ArtisticRising (E)

Crowley takes a leap of faith… into the heart of a black hole. It’s the last card Crowley has to play. He can’t do this without Aziraphale… and he’s betting that Aziraphale can’t do this without him. Act I (Black Holes) ends around Chapter 6 (10 if you want the smut babes). You could leave the story off there. Up til chapter 6 you have a whole story that’s pretty much G rated. From there my thirst comes out like a sexy little demon in tight jeans and a vaguely downwards saunter. Act II (Revelations) is an attempt at season 3. Treat it as a separate work that builds off Act I. Lots of plot twists ahead/theories/speculations that I won’t spoil for you :)

The Ineffability of Gray by kitfornow (NR)

Fifteen years have passed since Aziraphale returned to Heaven, and still sometimes Crowley feels shell shocked and embarrassed and grief-stricken. And mostly, he still feels numb. Fifteen years isn’t really so long, in the grand scheme of things, and yet these have somehow been the longest years of his existence. He can almost feel time crawling by, laughing at him. But slowly, so slowly, Crowley began to try again. To try harder. To find a piece of himself that Aziraphale had not touched. To find a piece of himself that does not need changing. On his good days, he can open up. His friends come over to the flat, once in a while, and Maggie brings new records and Muriel brings burnt cookies that no-one complains about because they're so proud of them. They'll exchange stories and simply enjoy each other's company for a few hours. And sometimes, he feels almost alright. Until Crowley turns around and Aziraphale is there, standing in front of him, trying to stop the world from ending all over again.

hurry back, please bring it back home to me by Percyjacksonfan3 (T)

“Why should I?” The demon interrupts cuttingly. “You’ve made it perfectly clear where your priorities lie and anything I say won’t make a bit of difference.” “That’s not true at all.” Aziraphale replies after a long hurt moment. “And you know it. Besides, you’re being stubborn. You’ll help me eventually.” Rage flashes over Crowley’s face. “You think so, do you?” Aziraphale juts his chin up stubbornly, ignoring the unpleasant feelings Crowley’s expression stirs in him. “Yes.” Aziraphale needs Crowley's help in saving humanity from the Second Coming and despite what happened between them he's determined to get it. After all, it's not only that he needs Crowley, but his plan also includes their car. As for the other matters between the two of them... well there's no reason those can't be sorted out along the way as well, is there? Or, a possible take on Series 3 that includes the Bentley, a resurrected Jesus Christ set on bringing about the End of Days, and an angel and a demon who are stupidly in love with each other but are both suffering from a lack of experience on how to actually deal with said emotions. Emphasis on the stupidly.

- Mod D

#good omens #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #canon compliant #long fic #mod d

[glitterfang]

here you come again by @cranberrymoons with art by @glitterfang

Steve and Tommy haven't talked in nearly three years. After everything, maybe the best way forward is back.

read on ao3

#strbb #stommy #stranger things reverse big bang #fic rec #cranberrymoons #canon compliant #getting together

[puppiesandnightlock]

Damian being the cool popular student that no one can really get close to (except maya)and jon, Colin, and maps being transfer students and Damian takes them under his wing mainly bc jon caught his eye and the entire thing is basically popular from wicked

(No capes, mildly twisted canon, or based in a wicked-esque universe honestly)

#damian wayne #jondami #jon kent #Damijon #colin wilkes #maps mizoguchi #mia mizoguchi #dc batman #dc superman #Could be a #no capes au #Could also be #canon compliant #popular #wicked the musical #popular wicked

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

Scent

@hinnymicrofic

“When did you finally figure it out?” Ginny asks. Her hair is fanned out around her, the red a shocking contrast to the green of the Quidditch pitch. 

They’d been mucking about - flying, tossing a Quaffle, racing, perhaps brushing up against each other in the sky more than was strictly necessary for a casual scrimmage. They had finally headed for the ground as the sun made its lazy descent below the line of trees. Ginny had flopped down on the grass to watch it and Harry had joined her, the thrill of flying still singing in his chest. Or maybe that was just Ginny. 

“Hmm?” Harry hums contentedly, watching the sky transition to a brilliant orange. 

“When did you finally figure out that you fancied me?” Ginny asks, trailing her fingers through the grass. 

The question startles him, because it seems to him now that he must’ve always fancied her, at least a bit, even if he was too thick to realize or too wrapped up in other things to notice. He’s still thinking when he answers, “When I wanted to throttle Dean.” 

She laughs, which was what he’d intended. “Jealous, were you?”

“Mm,” he agrees, still mulling the question over. 

Looking back on it, there are a great many glaring signals that Harry hadn’t recognized for what they were at the time. The way he’d longed for his summer with her to stretch on, the twinge of regret as she walked away on the train…

“That first Potions lesson, you were what I smelled in the Amortentia,” he muses. “That probably should’ve been a clue…”

He’d been thinking out loud, and only after he’s said it does he realize that was perhaps a more vulnerable confession than he’d intended to make. That’s a bit much, probably, when they’ve only been together a week. 

“What?” Ginny says, and Harry wishes he could snatch the words back, wishes he could chew them up and swallow them to be buried somewhere deep in his gut where they belong. 

“Yeah,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant. 

Ginny rolls over and props herself up on her elbows, her expression a mixture of incredulity and mischievousness. “Did you really? What did it smell like?”

“A few things,” he says, unable to look at her and instead pretending to be utterly entranced with the sunset. “Treacle tart. Something that smelled like my Firebolt. And…”

He finally looks at her, and finds that her eyes are glowing brighter than the sun ever could. “You.”

She seems to be struck uncharacteristically speechless, and the moment hangs for several panicked heartbeats. Then, she shuffles closer and presses her sweet lips down to his urgently, and Harry reckons he can’t have mucked it up too badly, as she runs her fingers through his hair and presses herself against him. 

She pulls away suddenly and stares down at him, her eyes pressing him down into the earth, and then she lets out a bark of laughter.

“What?” he asks, smiling. 

“You–” she cuts herself off, rolling back over and letting out a loud breath that floats up into the darkening sky. “You can’t say shite like that to me.”

He has no idea what to say to that, but luckily she spares him by continuing. “You can’t, it isn’t fair. I already like you too much.”

Harry wonders whether the sun has set directly into his chest. “Well, me too. Clearly.”

Ginny snorts, and Harry reaches for her hand. He breathes in deeply, wanting to drink in the moment, and he thinks he catches the faint flowery scent of her lingering traitorously in the air.

#hinny microfic #hinny #hbp missing moment #hinny fluff #canon compliant