ivara



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  1. Rec *

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    Summary

    Most dragons sleep on their hoards.

    Bruce's hoard sleeps on him.

    Or: Bruce is a dragon. Predictably, he hoards orphans.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    12,949
    Chapters:
    2/2
    Comments:
    115
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    717
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    19 Feb 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    “You’re going into town today, aren’t you?”

    Alfred looked up from the breakfast he was preparing. “I had intended to,” he agreed. He nodded to their still sleeping guest. “Do you need me to change my plans?” He wasn’t entirely sure just how long Dick would be with them, or what the young master’s plans were. Presumably, he would take him to one of the city-states so he could be cared for - Sir Gordon’s perhaps, the man could be trusted to handle the situation, and he was the closest - but the young master might think the boy could use a few days in relative solitude first.

    The young master shook his head. “I just thought I’d fetch the gold for you.”

    “That would be very kind, thank you.” Dare he hope that the young master was starting to take a more possessive view of the gold?

    But when the young master returned, it was with more than Alfred would need.

    “I won’t need quite that much, I don’t believe.”

    The young master looked at him with those wide blue eyes. “But you’ll need more than usual to get things for Dick.”

    Alfred was starting to feel a bit of concern. “Food for the next few days, you mean?” he asked cautiously.

    The young master nodded and then continued on. “And some more clothes and bedding, of course, and anything else he needs. Some toys, maybe? He’s still small enough for those, isn’t he?”

    The feeling of dread was growing. “Just how long do you intend for him to stay?”

    The young master appeared confused by the question. “He’s staying.”

    “Yes,” Alfred agreed. “But for how long?”

    His tail lashed in agitation. “He’s staying,” he repeated. “His parents are gone. He’s going to stay."

    “ . . . Permanently?” Alfred asked, dread heavy in his stomach now.

    The word seemed to settle the young master somewhat. “Yes,” he said, relieved that Alfred understood.

    Alfred prayed this wasn’t what he thought it was. “Children need to be around others of their kind,” he said carefully.

    The young master appeared confused by this. “I wasn’t,” he pointed out.

    And look how that’s turned out, Alfred thought despairingly.

    “Besides, you’re here.”

    Alfred was hardly a substitute for the entirety of human society, particularly considering his own history. “He cannot stay,” Alfred said firmly.

    The young master’s wings rose in a subconscious effort to make himself look bigger. His tail was lashing in earnest now. “He will.”

    “I’m staying?” a small voice asked. Dick had woken up at some point in their conversation and had wandered over. “Really?”

    “Only if you want to,” Alfred said in one last attempt to salvage the situation.

    But the boy had thrown his arms around the young master’s leg and was clinging to it. “Thank you, Bruce.”

    The young master - Master Bruce, Alfred supposed with a sigh - wrapped his wings around his protectively.

    On the bright side, Alfred supposed, at least Master Bruce had found something to hoard.

    On the downside, this was not what he’d had in mind.

    ...

    Alfred smiled wryly. “Dragon breath cures many things, Master Duke. Not quite including mortality, but it does slow it down quite a bit.”

    “How much are we talking here?” he asked cautiously.

    “How old would you guess that I am?”

    “Well, before I would have guessed sixty or seventy-something. Now . . . over a hundred?”

    Alfred laughed. “My boy,” he said with amusement, “I barely remember being a hundred.”

  2. Rec *

    Tags
    Summary

    The rescue mission fails, and the 1-A students are found and cornered. All for One decides to make an example out of Izuku, and uses an unknown Quirk on him as the world watches on.
    Izuku wakes up to a painfully lonely, cheerful blond boy offering to help.

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    55,155
    Chapters:
    10/10
    Comments:
    510
    Kudos:
    1100
    Bookmarks:
    294
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    19 Feb 2018

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Summary

    They don’t talk about what Percy did during the war.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    2,489
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    41
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    430
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    19 Feb 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Percy falls asleep at his desk, and wakes with a kink in his neck and a sore back. He grabs a change of clothes and a shower and heads back to work.

    Two days later Shacklebolt finds him there, in his office, hunched over death reports he’s trying to reconcile with Ministry employee records. If there was ever a time he wished for Muggle comptuker systems, as ungainly as they seem, it would be this.

    “Go home, Weasley. Take a break.”

    Percy looks up at him, and if it feels like his eyes are twitching and quivering in their sockets but at least he hasn’t dreamed of Fred since that first night. “I have gone home, sir. And there’s work to finish.”

    “Go see your parents, your family. I appreciate your help—Merlin knows you’re one of the only bureaucrats who’s come back—but you are allowed to mourn.” Shacklebolt steps in front of his office. “Home, Weasley, and don’t let me see you here until tomorrow. You’re no good to anyone if you collapse.”

    The last thing Percy wants is a reminder of just how much of an outsider he is in his own family, the one who stayed and did his job despite the eyes always watching, always waiting for him to show himself as a blood traitor. Dementors had followed him for a week after Ron’s actions became known.

    But Shacklebolt is the Minister, at least for the moment, so Percy stands, brushing off his robes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Minister.”

    He Apparates just outside the Burrow, the wards protesting him a bit, and the sky opens up on him. Because that’s just what he needs at the moment.

    Ron is the first one to see him when he walks in, and he marches up to him and demands, “Where the hell have you been?”

    Percy takes out his wand and casts a quick drying spell so he doesn’t drip all over the floor. “The Ministry. There’s work to do.”

  4. Rec 79

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    Summary

    Sam Vimes's hatred of lycanthropy is suddenly much more personal than he ever expected.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    17,360
    Chapters:
    2/2
    Comments:
    12
    Kudos:
    277
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    79
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    2513

    19 Feb 2018

  5. Rec *

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    With the war coming to an end and the new railroads winding their way across the Disc, more than one politically-savvy eye has turned to Borogravia, and to one influential young sergeant in particular. But Borogravia and its "Monstrous Regiments" are having concerns of their own...

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    12,604
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    35
    Kudos:
    428
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    112
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    3390

    18 Feb 2018

    Bookmarker's Notes

    “Mr Snorison," Polly said, once again falling back on her trusty old strict-sergeant-voice. “I do not play games. Tell your Queen that I’m glad to hear she’s standing up for girls who are boys and men who are women and everything in between as well, and that I wish her the best of luck with it. But she’s not going to buy my loyalty.”

    “That was not our intention!” Timkin smiled, shakily. “Please, consider it. And forgive me if the terms I used were offensive. We merely want to sow the seeds of friendship.”

    “If she wants to be friends, she can send me a tin of biscuits. Or some decent uniforms for the lads. Not a diplomatic envoy full of ambiguous messages.”

    Timkin raised his hands, placating. “Sergeant Perks,” he said, “There is nothing ambiguous about this. There… might be in the future, true, but right now, it’s just… Consider it reconnaissance.”

    “Checking out the ground before starting to lay the road, you mean?” Polly got up. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. And Mr Snorison?”

    “Yes?”

    “Why didn’t you go to the High Command? To the people who are actually in charge?”

    Timkin smiled. “Being in charge is a complicated thing. I’m going to see some of the Generals in a few days, since you ask. But it’s important to – to hear the voice of the people as well.”

    ...

    “I don’t know.” Polly leaned back and sighed, closing her eyes. “I honestly don’t know. And it shouldn’t be – I mean, I’m just a sergeant, for fuck’s sake.”

    “Ye-es, but you’re a sergeant who knows people.”

    Polly cracked one eye open and glared at Mal. “I just want… some peace, Mal.”

    Mal’s face softened. “I know. But it’s got to be peace worth keeping, right?”

    “Yes.” Polly swivelled around and laid back down, head in Mal’s lap. “Yes, I know, and if you got a job to do you do it and there’s no sense in whining about it. I just wish I had a better idea how to do it. I don’t know a thing about politics.”

    “You’ll do fine, Polly,” Mal said, stroking her hair.

    Polly looked at Mal’s upside-down face. Mal smiled.

    “You always do.”