Showing posts tagged fic

eunoiabound said: Bagginshield and GoT!


A/N: So…I have never read, or watched, Game of Thrones. What I know of it comes from gif sets, sobbings, and the knowledge “You do not mess with the Dragon Lady.” Oh, and every character has gone through agony, and it would be faster to list those who have not gone through agony. With that…please don’t kill me?

Also, I have no clue how “three sentence fics” work, because I never make them three sentences long.


It was supposed to be a marriage of convince, nothing more. Bilbo was not one who was sought after and the Dwarves of Erebor were looking to solidify some sort of alliance with them, so Bilbo had been placed on the chopping block, to be married to the cold and distant King.

He hadn’t expected love, or happiness. He hadn’t expected the gentle way Thorin would brush their foreheads together or the way the whispered Khuzdul would soothe him when he grew homesick.

He had not expected the great big rock that Thorin had given him to hatch into an adorable baby dragon (a dragonling? a hatchling?) that was all scales and claws and sharp teeth to match his (or her) sharp wit.

Even now, Thorin glowered and cursed the serpentine dragon (who Bilbo had named Glaurung), golden and sharp witted even just out of the egg merely hissed at the curse before curling protectively around Bilbo, claws careful as they clenched on Bilbo’s heavy Dwarven wear to balance better.

"Oh, darling," Bilbo murmured softly as he stood on his tip toes to nudge his forehead against Thorin’s.

(Bilbo was completely lost when, over the course of the year, each strange rock he had been gifted by loyal subjects hatched into various baby dragons and, each time, Thorin cursed and stormed about while Glaurung practically purred from where he was curled around Bilbo.)

(Reblogged from thorinthesassmaster)




would Will Graham be drift compatible with EVERYBODY

Being compatible with everybody isn’t what everybody thinks it is.  He gets shuffled around the globe like cargo, shipped out from the small flood-prone house he refused to give up and away from his dogs.  When a pilot goes down and they need a quick replacement, they think, let’s put Will Graham in; he’s drift compatible with everyone.

What they keep ignoring is the growing tide of memories.  Will may be compatible with everyone, but with each person he synchs with he has another wave of memories to ride, to make sure another person doesn’t sink beneath.  All his co-pilots know it, even if the higher ups don’t, and they look at him with pity in their eyes afterward.

Will’s been closer to some people than anyone else ever will, but that closeness is fleeting.  The tangent symmetry of two pilots who’ve drifted together time after time, that intimacy is something he doesn’t know, and he’s not sure if he ever will.  He’s too useful as he is.

But then Jack Crawford is requesting him to pilot with Hannibal Lecter.  The same Hannibal who was stranded for a week after a kaijuu had sunk him in the Pacific, and had eaten his dead partner to survive.  While official reports say his pilot was dead before they got stranded, Will’s well aware of the rumors that Hannibal killed his partner to survive.

Will doesn’t want to know a mind like that intimately, but Will is a damn fine pilot.  Hannibal Lecter’s not going to change that.

… where is the continuation of this goddamn. author-san you rock, please write more kldjfhksjdf

(Reblogged from tanavast)

when i turn jet black (and you show off your light)

Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke

Pairings: Kagami/Kuroko, (past and eventual) Aomine/Kuroko, Akashi/Murasakibara. Hinted Teppei/Riko/Hyuuga, but you can take it however you like, really, even platonically. 

Summary: KuroBasu AU, where they’ve never played basketball and pursued the jobs they might have otherwise. (Kuroko the kindergarten teacher, Aomine the policeman… etc.) Basically Junjou Romantica, KuroBasu style, with more angst and slightly less BL tropes. (Inspired by this absolutely adorable fanart.)


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The spell backfires spectacularly. Loki sits in the debris where he’s been thrown, stunned by the explosion triggered by so light a touch. It takes a moment for him to remember that Thor is here too; he’d heard his brother’s voice calling right before he touched the glowing stone, words of power twisting themselves into commands and—

Where is Thor?

He gets to his feet, dusting himself off, checking briefly to see that there are no wounds created by flying shrapnel.

"Thor," he calls, then more loudly, "Thor! Where are you?"

No answer. For a long, silent, terrifying second, Loki’s heart stops. No, no no no, has Thor been caught in the centre of the blast? That can’t be, it can’t be, Thor cannot-

And then he hears a small snuffling noise in the dead quiet of the room. It repeats itself, before emerging as a soft bark. 

Loki holds his breath as he approaches the ruined plinth where the stone had rested. A pile of pebbles shift and a dusty puppy crawls out from underneath it, wagging its tail in recognition when it catches sight of Loki. It barks again, more brightly and happily, and runs over on clumsy legs to bite at Loki’s boot. 

Oh, by the Norns.

This is even worse than he expected. Their mother was going to kill him.

A winged shadow near the doorway flutters off as he grabs hold of his brother-turned-puppy.

Night falls without anyone being the wiser. Loki has cleaned the room up with his fledgling magic, and by the end the room looks much as it had been. Thor seems content to stay quiet under his shirt until they are safely back in their rooms. He catches a servant to tell him that the princes will dine in their rooms that night, (hardly an unusual occurrence now that the both of them have begun serious study into war and magic), and takes the trays himself into the room (much to the puzzlement of the man who nevertheless shrugs and chalks it down to Loki’s eccentricities). 

Thor is running around the room now, after Loki has cleaned him of the dust, a golden little puppy. Loki must admit he doesn’t much see a difference, although his parents might have different views on the matter. 

"Cease that, you little brute," he snaps, when Thor looks as if he would start chewing on Loki’s book bag, and the puppy stands down, head hung at the sharpness of Loki’s voice. The younger prince blinks, a little taken aback and perhaps on the edge of remorse when the puppy trundles over and snuffs around his legs instead, tugging and pulling at the hem of his trousers. 

Loki snorts in incredulity, that Thor retains so much of his mannerisms even as a dog. Then again, there are some who have compared Thor thus before…

"What do you want now?" he demands, picking the animal up and poking it mercilessly. "You unruly creature, you give me trouble as a man and as a dog. Are you hungry? Do you want to play? Because I’ll feed you, but I won’t throw sticks for you to fetch.”

The puppy barks at him, and attempts to lick him in response, to which Loki sputters at. “Cease!” he snaps, and holds the puppy further from him. “Come on, you can have the meat from your plate, and if you eat anything from mine, I’ll have your head.”

He sets the puppy down onto the floor, and places a drumstick from the tray down next to Thor, who begins chewing away with great enthusiasm. 

Now that the puppy is suitably distracted… Loki throws himself into his chair, frustrated and helpless. The spell he was working had nothing to do with transformation, why did it turn Thor into an animal? Granted, an animal that reflected him, but—


Loki stares at Thor suspiciously. The runes he’d carved on the stone were for truth, the spell one designed to give Loki truth from others’ lying mouths. But his spells are rarely perfect, and a mistranslation, a rune placed wrongly… And a stone Loki doesn’t even fully understand the properties of. He groans aloud; Thor stops his meal to look up in query. Well, at least he supposes it is a stroke of luck that it is not Loki who has been turned, or he would probably have spent his own life stuck as some animal. Perhaps a snake, or a cat, if that is the way the spell works. 

He tries to spent the rest of the night in researching a way to return Thor to his original self, but is thwarted by the puppy’s constant need for attention, games and affection. 

Loki resigns himself to being found out by their parents before he can find a cure for his brother. Farewell Asgard, he thinks mournfully as he sinks down into his bed into uneasy sleep, and the puppy licks him comfortingly on the nose as he follows him into the large, comfortable nest of blankets and furs.

The third morning dawns with Loki a disheveled mess. His room is messier than it has ever been, not with books and quills and ink as per the norm, but with the debris of a young animal crashing everywhere into his belongings and deciding that certain spots would be ideal for relieving himself. Loki drags a palm down his face and steels himself for a long day at the library. There has been nothing in even his books so far- there must be something in the extensive royal collection. If there is nothing even there, then Loki fears he must confess at last. Thor cannot remain a dog forever, and already Fandral has come knocking the day before. Curse Thor and his too-close, too-loyal group of friends.

The puppy wags his tail energetically when Loki rises, entangling himself around Loki’s legs as if to trip him, and Loki is very tempted to kick his brother out of the way. He desists. 

Still, he supposes there is some sort of charm to his brother when he looks this way, a naivety that surpasses even his usual blitheness, (he thinks he might even miss the small fuzzy furnace in his bed when Thor returns to his usual shape), and Loki allows a small smile at the edge of his lips. 

They have been growing apart for some time, only Thor doesn’t realize it. True, they are still brothers, and Loki still loves his brother, but sometimes there is a growing unease that he is not part of them, of Asgard. There is an irrational suspicion, and beyond that, a feeling of unwelcome, especially by some of the older Asgardians. His grasp of magic, so effortless and natural, alienate the melee-loving race he calls his kin. 

But surely they will come to see his strengths. Come to love the younger prince as they do the older. There cannot only be day, there must be night as well, and Loki is only the natural opposite of his brother. They are one unit surely.

With that sentimental thought, he smiles faintly, and brushes the top of Thor’s head.

"Come along, you rogue," he says, "we’re going to the library. And you’d best stay quiet or I’ll skin you and make you a rug upon my bed, and the people of Asgard will never know where their first prince went."

Thor is surprisingly well-behaved out of the confines of their room, and Loki has to wonder just how much Thor comprehends as a dog. Still, it is a boon and he doesn’t intend to question it. 

He spends hours in there, keeping an eye on Thor every now and then, though for the most part, the puppy merely snuffles along the edges of the shelves and butts his head against the spines. After a while spent chasing his tail and playing catch with imaginary enemies, he goes to sleep nudged up against Loki’s leg. 

Loki withholds a sigh and continues to read.

He grows so absorbed in the pages that he does not notice when a shadow appears, and his father in the wake of it.


Almost, he jumps in fright- no, it’s Father, he knows, shit, he knows- but he turns around slowly, and rises as elegantly, careful not to wake Thor.

"Father," he acknowledges, and hopes that Odin does not see the furry little bundle half-hidden at his feet. "What brings you here? Do you have need of me?" 

Odin raises an eyebrow. “I was merely passing by. Can a father not talk to his son?” On his shoulder, Huginn tilts its head, its bright eyes unsettling and piercing on Loki. The younger prince averts his gaze, bringing it back to the sharper one-eyed stare of his father.

"Of course he may. Is everything alright?"

He tries not to squirm under Odin’s eye, as he used to do when he was younger, centuries ago. After what seems like a too-long time, Odin acquiesces, and turns towards a shelf of books, letting his finger trail idly along the spines, along titles and runes.

"Your brother seems to have gone missing," he remarks, "although I have no doubt he’s run off with one of the Warriors Three for a spell." 

Loki feels his stomach clench unpleasantly. Somehow Odin’s words seem to carry more weight than they suggest. 

His father continues carelessly. “If you see him, tell him that a dinner with your mother would not go amiss to reassure her of his wellbeing.” He picks out a book from the far end of a shelf, flipping through it before setting it down on the table. “You should dine with your mother as well, she has not sat down with you in nearly a week. Study hard.”

And with that, he sweeps out, Huginn turning backwards as if to watch Loki from Odin’s back. Loki stifles an urge to shiver- he has never really liked that bird. But more mystifying is Odin’s sudden appearance, and his enigmatic words. He almost runs to pick up the book Odin has picked out, and before long, his blood runs cold.

Odin knows.

He staggers back in his chair, knocking Thor awake, who yelps in protest. The book is not precisely an instruction manual to restore his brother, but it contains enough information for Loki to do so. This is no coincidence. At the same time… 

Odin has not raged or smote him down. Surely that is good enough, although Loki wonders at his father’s intentions and thoughts. Odin had not even seemed angry, merely thoughtful.

He glances between the book, his brother and the doorway. How curious.

"Ah, being a man is better than being a dog," is the first thing Thor says when he stretches his lanky frame, and Loki snorts.

"You’re barely a man," he retorts, closing the book and scowling. "Still half a boy. Aren’t you even going to offer your thanks?"

Thor shrugs. “You almost rolled onto me in your sleep and killed me a fair number of times, and besides you were the one who turned me into a dog-“

"I see, no thanks," Loki sneers. "Well that should teach you to come sniffing around when I’m casting spells." Then a thought hits him and he glares sharply at Thor. "Wait, if you remember everything as a dog, then how do you explain the scent-marking in my—"

"We should clean up and go down to dine with our mother, my dearest brother," Thor sings out loud, slipping around his indignant younger brother before Loki can turn him back into a dog. "After all, isn’t that what Father suggested?"

One of these days, Loki swears, he is going to murder Thor in his sleep.

(Source: westwicks)

(Reblogged from indigoredroulette)

and i know you

Fandom: Dragon Age

Notes: A man washes up on a village, golden-haired and handsome… 

Happy birthday, taichou!! <333 It’s a little late but MANY HAPPY RETURNS OF THE DAY, NONETHELESS! 

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geniuses and everymen

Fandom: The Big Bang Theory/Sherlock [BBC]

What happens when two geniuses come together. Their besties just shake their heads and go off to have a pint.

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Fandom: Thor/American Gods

Drabble. Loki goes to find Shadow, for answers he can’t find back home. He doesn’t ask his questions and he doesn’t get his answers.

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A Fall Through Wonderland

Fandoms: Sherlock, Inception

Notes: Sherlock and company learn of shared dreaming. The detective of course, decides that the PASIV is an excellent device for his own purposes. Mycroft seeks John out to tell him Sherlock’s gone under again.


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superwholock omens fic (actually, just SuperOmens for this one)

Dean and Sam meet Aziraphale and Crowley.

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milodrums said: So Aveline had been actually eavesdropping on Donnic and Wesley in the next room and all she could think was how both of them could be touching her and kissing her and oh Maker the things they both could do to her. (LOL OOC BUT CANNOT GIVE UP THE AVELINEWESLEYDONNIC OT3)

Eh wah lao what is this lololol. Hang on, going to continue this.

Her back is to the wall, and her eyes are closed, but oh the walls are so thin here. Each whisper is translated through the plaster, each moan and plea. Aveline’s only human, how is she supposed to withstand this?

She bites down on a knuckle and wonders if she should take up Wesley’s stance on religion. Praying would perhaps help… right about now.

liquoricecharms said: "How is it?" It's not exactly a fretting tone of voice, but Aveline comes close to it and Donnic hesitates. He chews slowly, and then even more slowly when it becomes apparent no apple pie should be this chewy. Anxious eyes pin his down and he swallows with visible effort."It's, uh-" He tries to find a diplomatic answer but Aveline turns away before he can. "No matter,perhaps I should follow a different recipe." He catches her arm and pulls her in and laughs. "It's yours, and that's all I need."

Later that night, Aveline watches his face in the flickering firelight as she puts her book down. Gently she reaches over, and brushes her fingers over his cheek.

"You’re a fine man," she tells him quietly. "I am most proud and fortunate to have married you."

y-yeah, I wrote SPN fic. And it’s vaguely DeanCas wtf. I blame it on Beffy and Kits.

The Deed of His Father

Dean and Castiel. Slashy if you squint.
The righteous man who will end it is still in Hell. Castiel takes him, and remakes him.

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