Sibyl_Moon



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    From a prompt on the kink-meme: "Thorin's company escapes the goblin tunnels, they are chased by the wargs and they take refuge in the trees. But when Azog shows up it turns out he has no intention of killing them. He has been fantasizing about Thorin ever since the dwarf cut off his arm, and now he has every intention of proposing to the love-of-his-life in a proper orc-fashion...

    So, instead of attacking Azog starts courting Thorin (much to everyone's horror), reciting orc poetry, singing morbid love songs accompanied by the howling wargs and professing his undying love for his beloved foe, combining threats and promises. Thorin is thoroughly disgusted, the older dwarves are outraged and the young ones are barely suppressing laughter, while Gandalf is disturbingly pragmatic about the whole situation. Bilbo is just scared."

     

    The fill went slightly sideways from the prompt. Enjoy.

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    28 Jul 2020

    Bookmarker's Notes

    SO much crack, to be read when I need a laugh

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    30 Jun 2020

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    “You’re late,” Derek informed him coldly, jaw clenched. He barely even moved his mouth to speak. This guy was seriously scary.

    And because Stiles was suicidal, he said, “No, I’m Stiles.”

    The look he got could’ve curdled milk. Stiles even noticed that Derek’s muscles were tensing, arms bulging even more and wow this guy was scary and hot but mostly scary holy shit.

    “You’re not funny,” Derek informed him coldly.

    Stiles shrugged. “I think that’s a matter of opinion.”

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    19 Jun 2020

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    “I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

    Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

    “What?! What was that sound?!”

    “You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

    “Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”

    “Mike,” she argued.

    “Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.

    “Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

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    18 Jun 2020

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    Hotch holds the sprig of mistletoe by the stem, cocks an eyebrow, and waits for an explanation. Because, in the four months Spencer Reid has been on his team, Hotch knows that there’s going to be one. What he doesn't know is that it will become a tradition.

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    12 Jun 2020

    Bookmarker's Notes

    The mistletoe fic