#lora’s fics! ೄ���࿐

[backwzzds]

men who spread you open to tongue fuck the shit out of you. they’ll make sure to grab your pretty lips by the fold and spread them so wide open, the cool air in your room does wonders when it passes over your sensitive clit. you’ll moan at the response of the goosebumps forming over your skin, but they’ll just continue shoving their tongue in your pretty hole. it’d be an over exaggeration to say your hole was tiny. it was, but it always opened up so well for him. his tongue, his throbbing dick—your cunt always molded itself to fit around whatever piece of him belonged.

the way that you gaped in and out the more times he shoved his tongue inside you caught him in amazement. he’d hum in delight as he’d tongue fucked you, annoying giving his tongue the same treatment his delicious cock got any time it slithered between your plush thighs. you could feel every inch of his muscle prodding inside your own. he was so in love with you, there was no definition or privacy or boundaries when it came to you two. what was yours was his and what was his was yours.

he ate your pussy like it was a medal and he was the champion. after he was done with you, tongue and jaw locked from immensely fucking you in such dire conditions, he looked up at you with the entire bottom half of his chin completely soaked in the evidence of your arousal.

“mhm, you got some good pussy there, mama.”

REINER, TOJI, eren, JEAN, connie, RENJI, benimaru, SANJI, ACE, zoro, LUFFY, GOJO + any of ur faves

[kingslayerstew]

havent been able to draw much since the death of my laptop have some jaime doodles

[trulycertain]

I couldn't help wanting to write something ridiculous with spawn!Astarion learning to turn into a bat. And then I got thinking about how the tadpole nerfs spawn powers. AU, post-canon, Tav/Astarion. About 1.3k?

Lora's feeling out a new riff, trying to work out if there's enough of a solid foundation for it to become a song, when there's a thunk and tinkle from the kitchen.

Shit. 

She sneaks through, knowing that Astarion's probably doing the same, if he's all right. If he's not… best to take in the situation. 

A vase rolls past her through the doorway. There's a small flappy sound, like someone's just pulled a sheet of leather taut. What -? An undead, perhaps? She pokes her head round the corner. 

There, sprawled on the kitchen countertop where she normally chops vegetables she'll be the only one eating, next to a fallen jar of herbs, is a bat. Big, albeit not as gigantic as some she's fought who turned out to be vampires in disguise; still, it's got an impressive wingspan, one of them hanging off the counter like a curtain. Or, she thinks, absurdly, the way Astarion likes to dramatically hang an arm off a fainting couch, while he's reading a book. He'll not be impressed by that comparison.

Her unexpected visitor is albino, and… fluffy. Really fluffy, chest like the world's smallest thick fur rug, or like it's got a little proud collar. Small, clawed feet are sticking inelegantly in the air, not quite spread-eagled (spread-batted?), as if it's going to try and jump back onto them. But who's heard of bats standing?

…Unless it's a vampire lord. But there aren't any of those after them - well, not anymore. And they're usually better at the whole bat thing. Less of crashing into Astarion's favourite vase. 

How in the hells did it get in? It's not like she left a window open; both she and Astarion are a tad too paranoid for that. 

It's not dead, at least: its chest is moving furiously. Makes sense. Bats are smaller, probably with a faster heartbeat. If it's in pain - well, she hopes it's not in pain. 

She's got no idea how to escort it off the premises. It's not that she's got a problem with bats - more that she's certain neither she, nor the bat, signed up for this. An angry wild animal? She has visions of it hanging from her finger by its teeth. Though honestly, she had a similar vision with Astarion, and things turned out pretty well there. But they're only borrowing this place for a while - she called in a favour. That favour probably didn't include bat tenants. 

Edging closer, she notes that it doesn't seem to be moving. Knocked itself out? Oh, that's not ideal. Though maybe she can sneak it out before it wakes up… No, from what she can see - one red eye - it's just staring at the ceiling. Almost glumly, if a bat can be glum. 

And then it spots her, and… lifts its wings to hide its face. In embarrassment. 

White fur. Red eyes. The way he looks when he's caught between trying to brazen it out or stalking off to hide his cringing. 

“...Astarion?”

Its - his ears twitch, and he raises a wing, holds it there. The way he'll raise a hand in acknowledgement and Don't even say it. 

She blinks, and whistles a few notes, hits a high C - there. Speak with animals. That should do it. “Are you hurt?” she tries; it’s been a while since she’s done this spell without a lute.

“Only my pride,” he mutters, mulish and with the slightest nasality - makes sense, between a flat snout and fangs. “I think your basil came off worse than I did.”

She stares. Definitely strange, hearing that familiar wry voice come out of a bat.  “What happened?” He’s normally so pretty - the kind of pretty he endlessly preens about. The pinkness of his nose is oddly adorable against white fur, but she suspects he’s ended up as a vampire bat. Apparently, vampire bats look like they’ve crashed face-first into a wall. Which he most likely has, but she suspects that’s no explanation for the horseshoe-shaped nose and his little squinting eyes.  It's sort of cute. If you're very, very drunk. Or if you're overly fond of a grumpy vampire.

“Nothing we need talk about,” he says hastily. He rubs a thumb over his face. “I’m sure I’ll work out how to change back in a moment.”

“You’re not stuck like this, are you?”

He casts a narrow look at her with those blood-red eyes - different, and yet so very familiar. “Darling, are you saying you wouldn’t love me if I were a rodent?”

“Astarion.”

He stretches a wing experimentally: pale, thin skin and white fingers. “I don’t… think so. There’s already a sort of - itch under my skin, like I just have to yawn hard enough and, pop. But first, I need to brood.”

“I thought only Cazador could turn into a bat.”

“Into a cloud of bats, my dear.” He gestures at himself with a folded wing, more stiffly than his usual - difficult, when your arm doesn’t bend the same way. “Do I look like a cloud?”

She can’t help her grin at that. “I don’t know. You are all white and fluffy.”

He sighs, loudly. When she reaches out a slow, careful hand, however, he doesn’t move - even in this form, he’d dodge. Or she’d get an annoyed warning nip for her trouble, she’s sure of it. Fangs are second nature to him. As is how to be gentle with them, by now.

She says, “I love your ears.” She strokes a fingertip carefully over them; they twitch underneath it. “Look at the size of them!”

“Ugh. If you’re about to make an elf joke, I have one word of advice for you: don’t.”  It’s deeply surreal watching a bat roll its eyes.

“I wasn’t! Is your hearing better like this?”

“Much.” He makes an expression that’s probably meant to be a grimace, but on a slightly squashed bat-face, it’s not so different. “I can hear the tavern three doors away. Their bard isn’t nearly so good as you.”

She strokes between his ridiculous rabbity ears, just with a finger, lightly; big as he is for a bat, he’s so tiny. Even tinier than usual. She'd hate to hurt him. “Have I mentioned I love you?”

“Yes, yes, I know you’re weak to flattery.” But there’s warmth in his voice.

“Do you want to hop up? I feel like you won’t want to turn back into yourself on the counter.”

“Please. That test flight - flights, really - was exhausting. No-one warned me there would be so much flapping. I thought creatures of the night would be fonder of a smooth glide, but no.”

She holds out an arm - and then there’s a bat clinging to her woollen shirt with thumbs and little claws. Clinging being the operative word. He climbs up her a little uncertainly, holding tight while she stays as still as she can, until he arrives on her shoulder, flopping there with a dramatic sigh.

She heads through to the lounge, and beside her ear, a small voice says, “I’ve been able to do… more, since our wriggling little unwelcome passengers were removed. I don’t know if it’s that or simply not starving. Honestly, I thought the bat thing was a myth. For spawn, anyway - we get the rather inferior part of the ‘vampire powers’ arrangement. But the claws have come back, and the agility. I’ve never felt so strong. It’s… strange. And a little intoxicating.” She can’t quite raise a brow at him when he’s so close to her, but he clearly gets the idea, because he adds hastily, “As in, I’m rather happy. Not as in ‘I’m about to become a cackling vampire lord.’ We’ve... covered that one already. It’s more - is this what it’s meant to be like? Being a spawn? Not a starved slave?” His voice is soft, with a genuine, non-snarling curiosity to it. A little amazement. She feels him shuffle just a bit closer to her, wing curling a little around her back.

Sometimes he doesn’t like to be touched when he’s thinking about the bad old days, but this clearly isn’t one of those times. At that, she has to sit in an armchair, and reach up, offering a hand to her shoulder. He clambers onto it, with the kind of instant trust that makes her chest ache - though he does give her a puzzled look while he shuffles about to get comfortable and sits on her knuckles. He folds his wings neatly, primly, in a way that’s so him she’d laugh in any other circumstance. She sneaks over her other hand and strokes his pointy pale head, runs a soothing couple of fingers over his back. She feels sad for him, but also, Lathander, he’s so fluffy. She could happily do this for a while.

The flap of wings startles her. What - ?

Being hugged by a bat is more like having a very strange necklace. One that hooks its thumbs into the back of her shirt collar, accidentally tugging it wider, ears twitching against her neck in a way that’s almost ticklish, tiny heart fluttering against her collarbone. She holds him there with a hand, thumb stroking through his fur. He murmurs, “I just wished, and this time…”

The smallest cloud of mist blooms. She blinks, and the world is suddenly rather heavier. It could be the rogue sitting side-saddle in her lap, his arms around her neck, grinning at her. He blinks in a little surprise.

“...there I was. Hello, darling.” Leaning in, he brushes a swift, smiling kiss to her cheek.

She reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, the way she knows he likes even if it ruins his pomade. “You were very cute.”

“Of course I was. I was adorable.” He winces. “Aside from looking like I’d run face-first into a carriage.”

“You were cute!”

“Hm. Good for scouting tucked-away places that the owners don’t want us to be, however.” His happiness takes on a fiendish edge.

“You’re going to pick locks with your little thumbs?” 

The idea seems to delight him rather than offend. “Once I learn how? Absolutely.” He swoons dramatically, leaning back over the chair arm. “Now, darling, I find I’ve utterly run out of energy.” He darts her a look from under his hand. “It must have been the transformation. I don’t know if I can even find it in me to stagger to bed.”

She raises a brow. “Really?”

“Really. I’m just… utterly drained. It’s a mystery.” He holds his arms out. “Would you mind?”

While she’s carrying him through to her room, she says, “I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh?” he asks smugly, arms still wound around her neck. “And what’s that?”

“You’re going to pull me in with you.”

Pouting, he says, “How dare you. I’ll have you know I’m an honourable man. Well. I'm a man.”

“You’re going to pull me in with you and make me cuddle you to sleep.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds disgustingly juvenile. True, but juvenile.”

“This was easier when you were less than a kilogram of fur.” Not that she minds him being a bit heavier. It’s a relief, compared to how bird-boned he sometimes felt under all the muscle in the early, hungry days.

“I can fix that.” There’s a tiny poof! and then… a self-satisfied bat fluttering awkwardly to sit on top of her head.

She reminds him, “Watch the hair while you’re surveying your kingdom.”

“I could get used to this.”

“I’m never getting used to this.”

[myrxellabaratheon]

I’m definitely not Stannis n. 1 fan for a moltitudine of reasons, but what I resent him the most is killing Renly (and using Edric’s blood to do it) when he was THIS close to allying himself with Robb.

Not only because I really think Renly was of all the Baratheons the one who’d made the best king but because he and Robb had a great chance of winning the War of the Five Kings with minimal loss in terms of both men and alliances.

And also because think about Renly on the Iron Throne with Loras as his Hand and Robb as King in the North with Theon as either his Hand or as Prince of the Iron Islands BUT Renly legalize gay weddings!

[craigpetersennz]

Always zine is available now!

I just want to say a massive thank you to @portalpanda, Sam and everyone behind-the-scenes who helped put together the Always zine in memory of Cindy Morgan! It must have been a colossal task and Panda managed it all with grace and patience. The zine looks amazing! I'm looking forward to spending some time going through all the art and stories of the creators involved. Well done, everyone! Remember, donations to the zine will go towards Girls Who Code, which is a very worthwhile cause, Programs! cindymorganzine.itch.io/always

[bittercoldbrew]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alan Bradley/Original Female Character, eventual Alan Bradley/Lora Baines-Bradley/OFC Characters: Alan Bradley, Original Female Character(s) of Color, Lora Baines-Bradley, Other Character Tags to Be Added Additional Tags: listen. somebody had to sexualize that old man., Falling In Love, Slice of Life, if any kind of plot comes of this it's entirely by accident i'm literally just here to have fun, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Age Difference, Rating May Change, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, kinda sorta an AU to my other fic Veridis Quo. please just roll with it., playing a little fast and loose with timelines here, but this starts about 5 years before the events of Legacy Series: Part 2 of Something About Us Summary:

Dira's managed to build a decent life for herself. Sure, it's nothing glamorous or impressive. Sure, she's just an entry-level data pusher entry assistant, toiling away in the bowels of the Encom Tower. But it pays the bills, and it lets her focus on more creative endeavors when she's off the clock, and it's...enough. For her, anyway.

At least, it was. Until a chance meeting with the recently-demoted former chairman of the board turns both their lives on their heads. They both get the chance to discover that more is possible if you want it badly enough, if you can be brave enough to reach for it.

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, I lack all self control so I wrote a little Alan Bradley/OC fic ☺️ I just think he’s neat ☺️

Probably gonna be updating this one kinda sporadically, but I’ve really fallen in love with these characters and I know they have a lot more in store, so please keep an eye out, and I hope you enjoy! 💖

[countrymusiclover]

31 - The Stag King

Part 32

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @1not-today-satan1

Chezney’s pov

The road in front of me seemed to be mirring together and I couldn’t count how many moons it had been since we had left the camp heading onward to meet the youngest Baratheon brother Renly. Swinging my legs that hung on either side of the horse saddle I was seated on I eyed Lady Stark who was riding beside me. “You’ve been rather quiet, Lady Stark.”

“I haven’t had anything important to speak about, Lady Ally.” She responded with a stern voice.

I turned my head slightly to meet her gaze. “I’m not a lady. My mother was a handmaiden to my best friend's mother until she died in her birthing bed. After that my mother took it upon herself to raise me and my best friend regardless of our different stature.”

“You’re mother sounds like a much better woman than I myself was.” Lady Stark mumbled under her breath, still staring at the road ahead of us.

Biting my lip I could feel there was something she wasn’t telling me and so I reluctantly pressed on to know more. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, my lady.”

“Years ago one of the boys came down with the Pocks. Maester Lewin said if he made it through the night he’d live. But it would be a very long night. So I sat with him all through the darkness, listening to his ragged little breaths, his coughing, his whimpering.” Lady Stark began speaking tugging the reins of her horse so he’d walk slowly allowing us to have a better conversation with one another.

I assumed she was thinking about her eldest Robb yet nonetheless the question came from my lips. “Which boy was this?”

“Jon Snow.” She simply replied.

Thinking for a moment I didn’t recall much of the man she had named. I didn’t remember seeing him at the kings feast so long ago. I only can recall his features from when Haelesa was telling me about him the morning we were leaving on the Kingsroad. “He’s the one who was going to serve in the Night's Watch right. The one with black curly hair.”

She softly nodded her head yes finally sparing me a glance before continuing her story. “When my husband brought that baby home from the war I couldn’t bare to look at him. I didn’t want to see those brown strangers eyes staring off at me. So I prayed to the Gods to take him away, make him die. He got the Pocks. And I knew I was the worst woman who ever lived. A murder. I’d condemned this poor innocent child to a horrible death all because I was jealous of his mother - a woman he didn’t even know.”

“So what happened after that?” I asked her, feeling my eyes tearing up at the thought.

Lady Stark whipped away some fallen tears. “I prayed to all Seven Gods. Let the boy live, let him live and I’ll love him. I’ll be a mother to him. I’ll beg my husband to give him a true name, to call him Stark and be done with it. To make him one of us.”

“Then it must have worked since Haelesa told me that she had talked with Robb about him before we headed to Kings Landing.”

“He did live but…” She trailed off looking at her hands for a brief moment of time. “I couldn’t keep my promise. And everything that’s happened since then, all this horror that has come to my family. It’s all because I couldn’t love a motherless child.”

Biting my lip I ran my fingers through my hair just letting the sounds of nature surround us for a few long minutes. I always assumed that my mother was just like all mothers who would take in other children that weren't their own. Except I was wrong, not every mother was like her. “If that’s how you feel about Jon, how exactly do you feel about my best friend being married to your son if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I must admit, Lady Ally-“

Putting a hand over my heart I cut her off shortly. “Please just call me Chezney, Lady Stark.”

“I’ll do my best to remember your request.” She clicked her tongue meeting my soft gaze with her grey eyes. “I didn’t care much for her because of who she was betrothed to, the Kingslayer.”

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear I muttered back. “She didn't wish to marry Jaime Lannister either. I'm just sorry we've made this war an added stress by her falling for your son.”

“It's not that I don't want him to be happy. It's just - I found a way to love the man I was wed off to when I was your age. But I suppose I must remember not everyone was raised to be like Ned was.”

My horse paused to a stop allowing me to touch her hand closest to mine. “You raised your son well from what I've seen. He truly cares for my best friend.”

“That warms my heart as a mother. Would you take some advice from a widowed noble woman, Chezney?”

I simply responded. “Of course, my lady.”

“Renly Baratheon is very much like his elder Robert was. From what I’ve heard throughout the years he is very arrogant and cares about his outward appearance. Given the fact that we are here to represent my son and your friend I’d be mindful of your words. Keep our strategies to yourself but come off as very welcoming too.”

“Thank you, Lady Stark. I appreciate the advice.” I sent her a soft smile.

Lady Stark reached for my hand intertwining my fingers with hers, sending me a weak smile that crossed her lips when she spoke back. “Call me Catelyn. We are family after all since you and your friend are more like sisters than anything else.”

“We’re nearing the Baratheon camp, my ladies. Follow my lead. I’ll escort you inside the camp.” Brienne suddenly rode up beside me grabbing our attention before riding forward on her horse. Kicking my horse in the stomach I followed her tail with Catelyn following after me.

Entering the camp walls the three of us dismounted our horses being greeted by a knight with a Baratheon sigil on his chest plate. “My ladies, I am here to escort you to his grace.”

“Lead the way then, Ser Knight.” I nodded my head towards the knight when he turned on his heels and walked for a good time till we stopped at a crowd gathered around two people sitting on separate wooden throne chairs. The knight stepped into the middle of the circle once the crowd had separated and allowed us to walk forward. “Your grace, I have the honor to bring you Lady Catelyn Stark and Chezney Ally, sent an envoy by her son Robb, Lord of Winterfell.”

“Lord of Winterfell and King in the North.” Catelyn corrected the man’s introduction of us.

The man I knew had to be Renly Baratheon spoke first. “Lady Catelyn, I’m pleased to see you. May I present my wife Lady Margaery of House Tyrell.” He sat in his chair wearing golden armor and a golden crown sat upon his head which was in contrast to his Raven black hair.

“You are very welcome here, Lady Stark. I'm so sorry for your loss.” Margarey responded with a weak expression. The woman had light brown hair and was wearing a light blue gown.

Catelyn nodded in thanks. “You are most kind.”

“My Lady, I swear to you I will see the Lannisters answer for your husband's murder. When I take King's Landing, I'll bring you Joffrey's head.” Renly’s words of clear arrogance made all the men in his army to cheer loudly.

Catelyn clasped her hands together in front of the two nobles. “It will be enough to know that justice was done, My Lord.”

“Forgive me for asking but what noble house do you belong to Lady Chezney. I must admit I am not familiar with House Ally.” Renly’s wife shifted her gaze over to me seeing I was silently almost standing behind the Northern woman.

I bowed my head addressing the two before me with the best quick curtsy I could but I nearly stumbled over my own two feet. I blushed hearing some laughs behind me when I had regained my balance. “My lord, my lady. I must confess I am born of noble blood. My mother was a lady- in- waiting for my best friend and Robb Stark’s wife Haelesa Velaryon. Uh - oh I’m sorry - forgive me I’m not used to the noble addressing of lords and ladies.”

“There's no need for that. You and Lady Stark are honored guests.” Renly sent the two of us a genuine grin not bothered by the fact that I couldn’t do a proper curtsy.

Margaery’s brother suddenly questioned the former Lady of Winterfell. “Has your son marched against Tywin Lannister yet?”

“I do not sit on my son's war councils. And if I did, I would not share his strategies with you.” Catelyn snapped back slightly, not turning around to address the young lord's question.

Loras Tyrell growled back, finding her response insulting. “If Robb Stark wants a pact with us, he should come himself, not hide behind his mother's skirts.”

“My son is fighting a war, not playing at one.” I lightly smirked at her sharp response.

Renly rose from his chair coming down the steps to loop his arm with hers. He glanced over his shoulder calling to his wife and I. “Don't worry, My Lady. Our war is just beginning. Dear wife, show Lady Chezney around the camp would you.”

“Of course, my King.” The girl picked up her skirts coming down to meet me. She dropped the fabric of her dress offering me her hand with a kind grin. “Shall we walk to my tent, Chezney.”

Placing my hand in hers I prayed that we could make a good arrangement with these people to win the war. “I shall follow you, Lady Margaery.”

[radiantlyrey]

Thinking TRON thoughts (when am I not these days, lbr) and thinking about what if Flynn had told Alan and Lora about the Grid, but ESPECIALLY thinking about Lora’s reaction.

The digitizing laser was “her life’s work” according to what she says in TRON. So what would be her reaction to finding out that 1. Flynn has a mini(ish) version of her laser in the basement of his arcade and 2. he has been using it to digitize HIMSELF?!?

I think her first reaction would be something akin to “you’re doing What.” followed by “wait that can’t be possible” followed by “wait. what are you experiencing when you digitize yourself” and then pure scientific interest takes over and she starts taking notes as Flynn explains. And then asks to be digitized herself for the sake of getting a larger sample size.

[jaimeshonorhardon]

Not enough gay Jaime Lannister ships....that man is bisexual please start writing them or tell me your fav ones I need I require gay Jaime Lannister fics

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Ideas #30: A Maiden Dark and Fair, but make it f!Jon/Renly

As some of you may be aware, I have a slight obsession with female Jon Snow fics, in large part because of the pairings it makes possible to secure the Iron Throne. So many interesting houses, so many potential grooms...

To which, I've spent the last several weeks trying to figure out how to make an arranged marriage between a female!Jon Snow and Renly Baratheon work.

Just imagine it:

Robert Baratheon is not a particularly liberally-minded man. He sees his youngest brother prefers men to women and, rather than make other arrangements for the succession of Storm's End, concludes that Renly just hasn't been offered a woman pretty enough.

Bobby B has also always wanted to join his bloodline to House Stark. His son deserves a woman like his own beloved Lyanna to be his queen. Joffrey and Sansa are of age - only Sansa takes after her mother, so that would be like giving his son a Tully bride, no matter how beautiful. Maybe they can betroth Tommen and Arya?

But wait! Ned has a bastard daughter - a beautiful, of-age bastard daughter who is said to be Lyanna come again, Alys. A bastard, yes, but Robert can do a favor for Ned and legitimize the girl and do a favor for Renly by marrying him to the most beautiful woman in Westeros.

Naturally, the only one pleased by this is Robert.

However much all other parties do not want this marriage to happen (Renly has no desire to marry a woman; Alys was intending to become the next Old Nan; Ned is worried someone in the south will see Rhaegar in Alys' features; the other great houses are offended the king's brother is marrying a bastard, &c), Robert does, and it's his opinion that matters.

And so Alys Snow becomes Lady Baratheon of Storm's End.

Much to everyone's surprise, Alys and Renly become friendly on the journey back south. It makes the marriage rather more bearable, but doesn't change the fact that everyone in Westeros expects heirs from them before too long.

There are two ways I can see this going: 1) Alys, being a Northern bastard without recourse to the Wall or the Faith, has spent most of her youth training as a midwife. Before Bobby B got involved, it was her intention never to marry - in part to avoid complicating the succession, in part because she's asexual despite Westeros not having a word for it - and help care for her siblings' children. She takes a very practical view of things, and after some trial and error with a medieval funnel, their problems are solved.

Or: 2) After spending some time together, Alys and Loras get along well enough that the three of them settle into something of a polyamorous relationship. Bi!Loras facilitates sex between his lover and his wife - dealers choice on the details - and while it's nothing any of them would have sought out, it works well enough for them. And if one or two of the kids look more Tyrell than Baratheon? Well, who knows who Alys' mother was anyway?

Fast forward two or three years to the events of canon, with Robert dying (either killed by his wife or his own bad habits) and the War of Five Kings breaking out.

Perhaps Ned still loses his head, but I like the idea he managed to avoid becoming hand of the king and thus was safely in Winterfell at the time.

Perhaps Stannis declares himself as king, but perhaps Alys helps to mend fences between the younger Baratheon brothers. This involves visits to Dragonstone - and the discovery (via dragon egg, a very similar looking portrait, a purple-eyed child, &c) that Alys might have a claim to the Iron Throne.

And so the War of Five Kings becomes a war of two kings (Joffrey and Balon) and a queen.

Bonuses include: 1) Ned not revealing Alys' birthparents until long after she guessed it by other means. This should be an awkward, uncomfortable conversation that Alys by no means makes easy on her uncle followed by some screaming (Alys has a lot of built up anger and resentment about her treatment at Winterfell, however good she might have had it compared to other bastards) and lots of tears; 2) a cache of dragon eggs at Dragonstone, including one that hatches into a dragon that looks completely black except under certain lights, where her scales shine deep purple; and 3) Loras, quite unexpectedly, finding a BFF in his lover's Northern wife. Their relationship should be reminiscent of Kirk and Spock, and at least twice a week Renly should have cause to bemoan the fact his wife and boyfriend get along better than he does with either of them.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back if you do anything with it.

Other Jon Snow Headcanons: Aegon the Unyielding | Aemon the Adventurous | Baelor the Brave | Lady Arryn | Lady Baratheon | Lady Lannister | Lady Stark | Prince Consort | Prince of Summerhall | Queen Mother

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[siren-darkocean]

Flufftober 2024

Prompt 11 of 31

Prompt - Ingredients & Spells

Fandom - Randy Cunningham 9th Grade Ninja (Samurai Series AU Past Events)

Ship - First Ninja/OC

Rating - Teen & Up

Warnings - Descriptions of Injury

Extra - 13th Century Events of First Ninja and First Samurai, Fairies (aka I used Ancient Magus' Bride fae for reference), Hardcore Crushing, She Fell First He Fell Harder, Wisteria, BG Demon Problems, Spike Pit (aka Barbie as Rapunzel when Rapunzel and Prince Stephan met scene referenced), First Ninja having a name besides First Ninja, Ninja Art of Healing Used

The fact we’re stuck doing this because of a demon.” Grey eyes rolled at that as their owner sighed and carefully plucked a sage. “Takeshi, this isn’t the worst we’ve delt with and you know it.” She told her partner as she carefully placed the sage in the woven basket in her elbow. Takeshi huffed a bit at that, “Ah yes but it doesn’t make it any different Asami.” He told the ebony haired woman who sighed and held a hand out to a blue reptilian like fae who leaned to her touch.

That was a major line difference between the two; while Takeshi as the Ninja was more of the dark arts with the Tengu demon feathers woven into the suit giving its abilities, Asami as the Samurai was more of the light arts and the fae due to her connection with them as the fairy queen created and gave her the Samurai Crystal.

As if their personalities weren’t a big deal of it as well.

Slowly but surely I'm getting caught up on @flufftober prompts (ignoring I posted this a day after the last one shush)

But here have some Past AU events of Samurai Series lore featuring First Ninja and First Samurai

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ love me, connie springer (nsfw)

thinking about babydaddy!connie fucking you nice and slow after finding out you got stood up by your date. having little constentina (his idea, but tina for short) for the weekend, your precious angel just couldn’t keep her mouth shut to her daddy when you’d told her you were going on a small ‘dinner’

“she said dinner but that really means date, daddy.”

connie isn’t surprised. no one knew how to handle you beside him. i mean, he’s had your ass in place successfully for nearly ten years; only he was man enough to handle you, your mind, and most of all your body.

you loved connie like no other, you wanted no one else to be the father of your children. but you knew the streets would eventually take him away from you, and you just didn’t wanna stick around for that. not when you had a five year old girl depending on the both of you. connie looked for other ways to make bread without selling or doing anything…illegal but it was hard to match the stacks he was bringing home every weekend.

your separation was a one sided agreement anyways it seems. to you? you two were broken up. to connie delulu ass? you were his wife and you’re ‘smoking dick if you think ion belong to you and you’on belong to me.’

you didn’t even have any words for the absence of your so called ‘date.’. after an hour of waiting, you figured you’d call in to check on tina. ringing connie, your babyfather answered on the first ring, of course with a wood in his mouth and multiple lights on his face, signaling he was watching tv.

“hey,” your voice is solemn and low. you really were tired and ashamed to say anything more.

“hey mama, you okay?” connie’s hazel brown eyes quickly flick over to yours through the screen.

you shrug though he can’t see it. “i’m okay.” you admit. “just callin’ to check on my baby.” the frame was only on your face, but from the small shake of your hand, connie had managed to get a glimpse of a pretty black dress you’d sported, breasts looking three times as big as it usually did because of your sitting position. he could tell you dressed up for the night.

“yeah? she good, just upstairs sleepin’ right now. how was your date, pretty?” you hear connie turn down the tv in the background and give you his full intention.

you furrow your brows. “what? boy, how’d you know about it?”

your baby father blows out a huff of smoke and chuckles, flashing his gold canines. he wasn’t gon snitch on his lil informant princess. “i got my ways. tell me bout it baby.”

with a roll of your eyes, you let out a tired sigh and felt your shoulders sag. “wouldn’t know. the nigga never showed.”

connie furrows his own thick eyebrows. “what you mean? he told you he couldn’t come?” he asked. from the shake of your head, you see his face soften on the screen. “come over n’ smoke with me. lemme make you feel better.”

you kiss your teeth and throw your head back, already knowing where the conversation was headed. embarrassment flooded your expression. “you eating my pussy is not gonna make me feel better, constance.”

connie kissed his teeth and waved you off dismissively. “you’on know that.”

a blush can’t help but creep its way onto your brown cheeks. “i’m supposed to be staying away from you, ya know.”

connie gives you a knowing grin, shamelessly flexing the two deep dimples in his cheeks that constentina inherrited from him. “yeah? how’s that going for you, mama?”

“obviously not good because i’m actually considering your offer of being a booty call tonight?” you laugh.

“come onnn mama, tina’s sleep, i got a wood rolled for you and i want you here.” your ex compromised with a kiss of his teeth. “lemme rub ya feet and all on ya butt i promise you’ll feel better.

“i’m tired and don’t feel like driving, con,” you whine in the same tone. you knew if he didn’t have your daughter he’d already be at your door, but you refused to risk waking her up in a car ride over here.

connie rolls his eyes and puts you on pause for the moment. a minute later he comes back on screen and takes a pull of his backwood. “your uber on the way baby.”

“ooh daddy,” you cried, trying your hardest to breathe straight. “you know i cum fast like this, oh shit,” connie had your legs spread wide open, forcing your huge tits up against the bottom of your face as he pumped in and out of you.

“you like that mama, like when i fuck you nice and slow? all romantic n’ shit?” connie teased. tears streamed down your face and he wasted no time in kissing them from your pretty face.

you’re too far in euphoria to even fully comprehend exactly what he’s saying. “yes, i love when you stroke this pussy so deep daddy.”

connie holds your breasts up damn near to your face and takes his time sucking on each of your nipples, making sure to stretch and pull it all the way back as far as it could go, grinning at the sound of it snapping back toward you. “you’on need no one else to love you like this but me, you heard?”

you can’t help but shake your head, the small responsible part of you left that hadn’t been fucked out by connie yet (though he was close) was slowly bringing you to reality. “no,” you respond.

“nah, nah, dead that shit or imma stop,” your ex threatened, straightening his back out so he stood tall, yet still very deep inside your gummy walls. you can’t help but stare down the tattoos that littered his body; many dedicated to you and your shared daughter. “you grippin’ me so tight baby, boutta make me cum, fuck,” connie throws his head back and whines. “tell me you’re mine n’ we gonna get back together.”

“no, con,” your words were saying one thing, but the cream ring of your arousal forming around connie’s tanned dick was betraying everything leaving your mouth. “w-we’re we’re toxic—oooh, yes, right there right there!”

suddenly, a large pair of hands come to wrap around your neck, gripping lightly. “tell me you’re mine or im not fuckin’ this pussy,” he orders. “you know i don’t be bluffing, mama. ‘specially when it come to your spoiled ass déjame oírte decirlo.”

more tears fall from your eyes as you feel your lower region bubble in evstasy. “con—“

“say it if you wanna cum.” connie’s grip around your neck tightens as he inevitably starts to babble. he was not gonna let up off you no matter what. “come on mama, say it n lemme give you another baby. gonna make you a mama all over again, want you so full of my babies, pretty—fuck,” he breathed out. “you know daddy sorry, you gonna forgive him?”

it wasn’t until connie started to add his thumb rubbing circles around your clit did you finally fold and give in. “oh fuck, yes! yes yes i forgive you con—please—“

“go head and cum mami, te quiero.” connie breathed out, feeling his own orgasm approach. “te amo joder joder por favor dame más hijos mami te estoy rogando déjame correrte dentro de ti,” the man curses into the atmosphere as he strokes himself in you a few more times.

“yes yes,” you nod in response to his pleads of cumming in you. a nanosecond later, connie’s cumming deep into you until he ends up shooting nothing but blanks. you’re full to the brim to the point where drops of his cum couldn’t help but ooze out between your puffy cunt.

“dio mio.”

[onthesandsofdreams]

Ours Is The Fury [4/?]

Fandom: ASoIaF Characters: Jon Arryn, Ned Stark, Loras Tyrell, Doran Martell, Tywin Lannister Warnings: None

On AO3

Jon passes a tired hand over his face.

Ever since the finding of Renly's battered body everything had been thrown into chaos. He had immediately written to the Vale, to Lord Royce and asked him to prepare a small force, a thousand men and to march them as quickly as possible to King's Landing. He knew that Robert would do something very stupid if they found whomever was responsible for Renly's murder attempt. So, his best chance is to have men he himself trusted to smooth things over.

And he could not help but worry, what if Renly's attack was only the beginning? What if this all came down to that thing he feared to be true?

He shivered.

Gods above, this was a mess. They should also add guards over not only Robert but Stannis too. Thankfully, Stannis had sent his wife and child away to Dragonstone and sent for men and a new maester. Which was a good thing, for he did not trusted Pycelle, the man was a Lannister lackey without question and had not survived Aerys by being a fool; no, they would do better by having a maester who answered to Stannis and Robert alone.

"My lord, grave news!"

The guard's voice broke his thought, "What is it now?" He felt dread on the pit of his stomach, had Renly passed?

The guard bowed, "A murder attempt was made against Lord Renly. Lord Stannis foiled the attack, but the assassin came really close according to Lord Stannis."

Ice ran down his spine. Yes, this was probably about what he feared. Otherwise, why try to finish a sleeping man?

"Thank you, dismissed." He said and watched as the guard once again bowed and left. He walked towards his desk, and began another letter to Lord Royce and another to the Blackfish, he would have to send Lysa and Robert away, as soon as possible before someone turned their eyes to him and his heir.

He could only hope that Ned would come too. They would need him.

~

Ned Stark was not a man who rattled easy.

And yet, the urgent scroll that had come from King's Landing had rattled the peace he had carved for himself and his family. Someone had attempted to kill Renly Baratheon and Robert was asking for his presence.

A presence that required men.

He could only hope this would not come to war. Twice over was enough, but this? Who would dare attack Renly and leave him to die?

He was so lost in thoughts, he did not hear Luwin enter his solar. His eyes snapped up when he saw the man's form approach, "Your pardon my Lord, but you did not hear my knock."

He relaxed his shoulders, "'Tis fine, Luwin, my fault entirely."

"Another urgent message from his Grace, the King."

Dread pooled in his stomach as he took the offered scroll. He read the words three times just to be sure, somene had tried to 'finish off' Renly and Robert was urging his friend to hurry. "An assassination attemp was made on Renly, foiled by Stannis."

Luwin's eyes grew big. "You will depart then, my Lord?"

"Aye, I must. I wish could stay a while longer, but it seems that we cannot do that. Me and my men shall depart on the morrow, send a raven to Lord Manderly to make sure the boats are ready."

"Aye, my Lord."

Once he was alone again in his solar, he closed his eyes for a moment. What in the Gods name was happening in King's Landing?

~

Renly could not die.

Loras snarled as he hit yet another training dummy. Renly could not die and leave him, he was not allowed. He had already written to his father about Renly's assassination attempt, urging him to send even a token force, if only to prove his loyalty to the King.

Oh, but when he found the bastard who had tried to end Renly's life, they would pay. He would make certain that they suffered.

Renly could not die.

Renly could not leave him.

~

Doran Martell stared at the scroll.

He did not feel an ounce of pity for Renly Baratheon. Nor for Robert or Stannis. Perhaps now they would understand the grief that still layed over Dorne and the Martell family like a fog.

Elia and her children's lives were more important to him.

Vengeance was.

But… what if this threw things into disarray? What then? He frowned and rubbed his chin, perhaps he could send Oberyn to keep an eye on things with the excuse that he was 'just traveling'.

He would not send men. No.

His brother was capable enough, perhaps just a few trusted men of his to make sure Oberyn was safe, nothing more, nothing less.

He had more pressing concerns.

~

Ours is the Fury was the Baratheon words, and they had never held truer than in this very moment in Storm's End.

There was a flurry of activity, men were being readied, a small force had already departed for King's Landing, it would not do to have their Lord lay abed hurt and wounded without proper Baratheon guards. It would not do.

Many remembered Stannis and Renly well, and Robert was the very embodiment of House Baratheon, it would not stand that their house be disrespected in such a way. It was worse when the second raven arrived.

Many had sworn vengence.

Ours is the Fury, House Baratheon of Storm's End would endure.

~

Hoster Tully wondered what the world was coming to.

He had already assembled some men and sent them to King's Landing, it would not do that House Tully stand idle, because he knew that something was going on. You do not leave a man to die in a dark spot without reason, only a fool would believe otherwise.

Gods be good, he could only hope this didn't devastate the Riverlands.

~

Tywin Lannister had no reaction upon seeing the news.

What kind of fool tries to kill the King's brother in the very place where both the King and Stannis Baratheon were? Madness and idiocy.

It was the second raven that brought a reaction, so much so that Kevan flinched. "We need to find who ordered the assassination with our house banner," he snarled at his brother. "And when we do, they will regret ever thinking of such madness."

Kevan nodded.

[trulycertain]

Blech

Karlach guesses she shouldn't be surprised when she's popping off to the river for a quick dip, and halfway into the woods, finds Fangs and their mighty leader snogging furiously.

In which Astarion gets his groove back... and is deeply obnoxious in the process. Based on the arse-grab in the Patch 5 kiss, that banter with Lae'zel about he and Tav barely being able to keep their hands off each other, and the fact that even if Halsin's not involved with them, he's noticed Astarion and Tav having sex again. Because they're clearly That Damn Couple.

Tav/Astarion, background Karlach/Wyll. 2.6k. SFW - some mild accidental voyeurism and mentions of Astarion's canon sexual trauma, but all the bedroom business is implied.

Ao3 link

Something's different, after Lora and Astarion sneak out of camp to do... whatever they did. Karlach probably doesn't want to know. Honestly, she thinks it's got more to do with the fact that his old bastard of a master is dead. Finally being able to take a proper breath for the first time in two hundred years... or the dead-guy equivalent, anyway. Must be a hell of a feeling. Invigorating.

Sure, Astarion still has times when you reach out to touch him and he gets that face, the one that says he'd flinch but he's too well-trained. And sometimes he gets that haunted look in his eyes, the one that makes Karlach think of blood and fire and something getting shoved into her chest; she's only been able to see the edges of his nightmares, but she guesses for him they're probably torture and sex he doesn't want to have and being so. damn. hungry all the time. (Like being lonely, like wanting to be touched so much it aches, and suddenly being awash in a wealth of it. Wyll must've spent most of the journey since her engine got fixed up hugging her - and that's after they spent what felt like three days in her tent. For Astarion, she guesses that it's blood and not getting staked. Sudden scary kindness, all the same.)

But he doesn't snap anymore - not unless he thinks you're doing something really stupid. She offered him a fist and he actually bumped it the other day, while Wyll cackled in surprise (and then coughed when he realised he was doing it). Miracles never cease.

Astarion and Lora have always been, well, weirdly soppy, once you got past the sniping. They'll tell jokes about blowing up hags, disagree on everything, call each other idiots with fancy words while laughing at each other's annoyed faces... and then you'll find them by the campfire, Astarion sewing some frilly thing with his ankle absentmindedly wrapped round Lora's. They hold hands, when they're at the back of the group and think they're being sneaky about it and can pretend it’s just their shoulders bumping; Wyll gave her the eyebrow-nudge the first time he noticed it, and it's been hard not to see ever since. And if you're looking for one of them, it's usually best to knock on Lora's tent so they've at least got time to spring apart and pretend they weren't cuddling.

But something's new. Something obnoxious and... kind of hilarious, if Karlach's being honest.

Lora eats stew in the Elfsong while trying to keep a straight face, but Karlach spots Astarion smirking into his wine glass in that way he gets when he's being a little shit. On impulse, she checks under the table and... she recognises that fancy gold-embellished shoe. And the fact it's sneaking up Lora's shin. Sure enough, there's a far less fancy boot hooked round Astarion's knee.

Karlach snorts when she comes back up. "Footsie? Really?"

Lora seems like she might be blushing, if it was dark enough to show up; Astarion just looks innocent, but his eyes are gleeful, crinkling at the corners.

Gale sighs, "Do you mind?"

He just gets an even louder, more dramatic sigh in response from Astarion, who says, "All perfectly innocent, I assure you. I hadn't even managed to get above the knee." He mutters into his wine, "Spoilsport." Swallowing, he adds, "And no-one's saying anything to Karlach, considering she's had her tail on Wyll's arse for the past half-hour."

Wyll jumps.

Karlach says, "Snitch."

"Coming from you, darling? Really?" But he's smiling into his cup.

Karlach guesses she shouldn't be surprised when she's popping off to the river for a quick dip, and halfway into the woods, finds Fangs and their mighty leader snogging furiously. Except Lora's paused to laugh and go, "Really? Really?" Probably referring to his hands on Lora's arse, unabashedly getting a good grip. (Karlach can't especially blame him. That's a whole lot of woman.)

Astarion's voice is cheerfully haughty. "What, I can't appreciate art?"

"You're ridiculous."

He rubs his nose against hers. "And you're beautiful." Karlach waits for the punchline or the sting in the tail, but it doesn’t come. His voice is soft and silly, like he’s just been hit round the head with something heavy. Fuck. Is that what Fangs in love sounds like? Sure seems like it. At least he’s put his hands somewhere less enthusiastic.

"Sweet-talker." Lora's voice is low, that soppy teasing way that lovers get with each other.

"...Yes, so I've been told. Except this time I get to mean it.”

Yeah, much as a formerly-pent-up part of her would really like to see this, Karlach also isn't paid enough for this shit. Even if she's not a merc anymore. She stares up at the trees and whistles a tune, pointedly. 

Lora actually jumps.

Astarion turns his head and says, “Karlach? I thought that might be you.”

Karlach rolls her eyes. “Just looking for a bath. Not… this. Cute, though.”

Astarion gives a tiny half-grimace, and Karlach realises it’s the closest he gets to embarrassment. “Yes, well. I’d thought I was decent at finding a secluded spot.” He raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, I bet you are. But there’s a whole camp trying to do the same.”

Lora tugs at his hand. “Come on. Let Karlach spend some quality time with the river.”

Astarion throws a jaunty wave Karlach's way as he saunters off. “Later, darling."

So yeah. That's... either not been a thing before, or they're being way more obvious about it.  Which gives everyone full licence to tease, in Karlach's opinion. Especially later, when Astarion won't lace up his stupid frilly shirt, and he has like... wow, are those three lovebites on his neck? Pretty impressive ones. Even Wyll and Gale are staring.

Shadowheart says, "I thought you were meant to be the vampire here."

Lora suddenly pokes the rabbit on the fire with a lot more force; Astarion takes his nose out of his book to give Shadowheart a sharp look, but his mouth's twitching when he gets back to it.

Karlach's even less surprised, somehow, when she goes to answer a call of nature and finds him pinned against a tree with his legs around Lora's waist, mouthing at her neck like he's about to try for another snack.

Karlach says, "Nice," cause it is, and cause it'll annoy them enough to let them know she's there.

Lora freezes; Astarion seems totally unsurprised. And makes no move to get himself on the ground, just opens an eye and says cheerfully over Lora's shoulder, "Why hello, Karlach. I always had you down more as the 'getting stuck in' type than liking to watch." And then the bastard winks. Astarion's always acted like a massive perv. A massive perv and happy? He might be even more of a pain.

Karlach says, "I wasn't watching. Some of us poor fuckers are trying to find a place to piss. You don't own the woods, you know."

Lora puts her face in Astarion's neck like she wants to die a little, but somehow still doesn't drop him. It's kind of impressive.

"I'm gonna find a good hedge. And take a different path back." Karlach gives them a nod. "Soldier. Fangs."

Lora mumbles, still muffled by smug vampire neck, "Thanks, Karlach."

Astarion, being Astarion and tactful as a very pointy brick, cackles so hard it follows Karlach out into the woods.

Not that whatever they have going on isn't hot; neither of them's exactly ugly. But she's not actually trying to know about that much of it. Especially not the big stuff, the real stuff.

Sometimes you don’t manage to dodge the real stuff fast enough.

She hears one night, as she's heading back to camp, "You've gone somewhere else." Lora. Sounding worried.

"Don't be ridiculous, darling. There's nowhere I'd rather be than - all right. No, I can't do it. Don't - We don't have to stop."

"Sure we do. My thigh's killing me, anyway. Oof. Move over." That fidgety sound you get when someone’s shifting bedrolls and a vampire’s stupid-huge pile of cushions around, now Lora’s finally got him to sleep on more than a damn board. (Karlach doesn’t care if he says it helps his back. She’s got enough problems of her own to know that’s a load of shit.)

His voice is fainter. "My sweet, I..."

"Astarion, what's my name?"

Karlach’s trying to head fast to her own tent. Really, she is. But hers is next to his and it’s… hard, when you’re worried for a friend.

"I…" A pause, and he swallows through such a dry throat you can hear it click. "Lora? What - For a moment I thought you were someone else."

"There you are."

"I'm so sorry, I..."

“Why?” Lora asks – gently, but she’s never good at being bullshitted.

“Because it shouldn’t be like this.”

Karlach heads over to her own tent, sits and tries not to listen; strokes a hand over Clive’s fuzzy head. Wyll’s still sleeping in there, bedroll carefully a ways from hers but close enough to hold her hand – she can hear him. She’ll head in given a sec, as subtly as a seven-foot flaming tiefling can.

Astarion says, unsteadily, “He’s dead. They’re all… they’re all dead, or down there in the dark. I’m free. I’m with you. I want to be with you, not… every ghost I’ve ever lain down for. You deserve better.”

Teddy bear fuzz. She can touch fuzz now, and Wyll, without the singeing. She’s here. She’s here, and there are owls and trees and Wyll making those little snoozy breaths behind her and no flames other than a damn campfire. Fuck. She knows Astarion would bite her if she even suggested it, but sometimes she really wishes he had a Clive. Something. She’s seen that ratty old blanket he insists on carrying round and tucking ashamedly into his tent; maybe that’s something similar for him.

Lora says easily, “You’ve got that one wrong.”

Astarion mumbles, fancy cut-glass syllables muffled by a bedroll, “Why didn’t you pick someone easy?” He laughs bitterly. “Well, I’ve always been extremely easy. Isn’t that just the problem. Why didn’t you pick someone normal? Someone boring, with a cottage and a dog and – someone who could fuck you without losing himself.”

Lora says, “Because that’s not my type. I want you. The fucking is secondary.”

He snaps, “It’s never secondary. It’s all there is. It’s all people want me for.”

“Hm. I want you for your sewing, and the way you grin with all your fangs, and your shit taste in books.”

 “It’s better than yours.” Astarion sniffs – the haughty kind. Better than the kind he was verging on before.

“I want you for the way you hold me when I’m afraid, and you get so damn angry when someone hurts me.”

“That’s just common sense. You’re our leader.”

“Hmm. Tactical cuddling’s a new one. …I want you for your gold thread and your sunrises and your little presents you sneak me when you think I’m not looking, and the way you pretend to hate puns but you laugh at them. All the tiny things in life you hoard like treasure. I’ve been free all my life, but I’ve never enjoyed it as hard as you.” There’s a pause, and a shuffle of fabric and bodies. “…I like the way you hold my hand, too.”

“Thank you,” Astarion says, very quietly.

Karlach manages to sneak into her tent without setting Wyll on fire. And she gives him, and Clive, a quick squeeze.

Karlach manages three days before she gets done by a bunch of sneaky-bastard nettles in the woods, and hobbles back to camp. She keeps setting the fucking dock leaves on fire.

“Lora!” she whines, because Shadowheart’s deep in scary intense prayer – she’s switched it to a moon goddess now, sure, but she still looks like she’d stab you in the kneecaps if you interrupted.

“Karlach!” Lora says brightly, even if it’s all muffled, from her tent.

There’s a very posh sigh from the same tent.

Oh. Well. Right. Karlach tries, “You decent in there?”

Astarion drawls, “I was trying very hard to get her indecent, actually.”

Lora groans, “Ignore him.”

“Oh yes, please do. As usual. It’s not as if a man can find any privacy in his lover’s tent.”

Karlach says, “It’s a tent, mate. Privacy and tents aren’t a thing in the same sentence. You can keep it in your trousers ‘til we hit an inn tomorrow, right?”

Astarion mumbles something that sounds like it’s into a pillow. Karlach makes out something about “two hundred years” and “freedom.”

She says, “Yeah, yeah, I get that, but my arse is stinging something fierce.”

Astarion sits bolt upright so obviously the tent moves. “Wait, wait, I’ve changed my mind! Now this I have to see.” The tent flaps swiftly get undone by hands that are obviously way too good with knots, and then he crawls out into the camp, still shirtless and wild-haired, shit-eating cat’s grin all over his face. “What happened, darling?”

A dark brown foot follows him out, and gently prods at the side of his thigh ‘til he moves over.

“Nettles happened,” Karlach says, miserably.

Lora says, “Ouch. Let me see what I can do.” She stands and heads over to Karlach.

Astarion, still outside the tent but now sitting cross-legged, squints at Karlach’s leathers; he’s about knee-height, after all. Not that he ever gets much taller, when he's standing next to Karlach. “Are those brambles? Here I thought they’d all just burn away.” He looks up at her, and the smile in his eyes is less sharp-edged, now; he's trying for comfort. “Do you want to keep them? They really do add something. Like the studding.”

Yeah, the brambles were what she was trying to avoid when she landed in the nettles. “I want to forget all this ever happened,” Karlach moans.

Which is how she ends up sitting on a few borrowed foofy plum cushions outside Lora’s tent in her pants – look, it’s a camp and modesty is a distant memory – while Lora heals her thighs and the side of her glutes (and her shoulders, and that bit under her chin from when she tripped), and Astarion sits with her trous in his lap, picking out bramble after bramble with some fancy little tweezers he’d got stashed away. “Is that better?” Lora says, checking her over.

“It really, really is. Thank fuck. Thank you, soldier.”

Lora beams at her, all sweet and pretty, the way that makes you get how Astarion fell for her – he does have a weakness for sunshine.

Astarion neatly folds Karlach’s battered leather trousers and hands them back to her without a word, even a snide one.  

“Thanks, Fangs.”

All right, so they make her a little sick. But they seem like they’re getting better at subtlety, lately. And times like this, she’s glad that her friends are a weird little couple. Seems like they're good for each other.

Astarion claps her on the shoulder – a rare thing, for him – and gives her a broad grin full of fang. “Marvellous. Always glad to help a friend in need. Now, would you mind being elsewhere, so we can ravage each other?”

No, Karlach takes it all back. She’s gonna feed them both to a beholder.

[the-fiction-witch]

Angel

Media - Game Of Thrones Character - Ser Loras Tyrell Couple - Loras X Reader Reader - Anastasia Rating - 18 + torture / hard ons/ Stockholm syndrome a lil bit/ bjs Word Count - 3214

Writers notes - Loras (in the cannon of the show at least the book is a little more ehh on the topic) is gay, he does still walk with ladies, court, gives out flowers and smiles and even accepts betrothals 'unhappily' but you know he doesn't like kick up too much about it other than the obvious reasons. So for plot's sake here we're gonna make him Biseuxal or at very least just kinda Stockholmed a little due to the plot and situation. Hope that helps! 

Loras had been locked in the cells below the sept of Baelor for months now. Members of the faith militant would come down daily to attempt to make him confess and when he didn't he'd be beaten. Every three days he'd be given a single cup of water and once a week he was given cold watery leak soup the bare minimum to keep him breathing, even if he was deathly pale and skinny, his bruises from weeks ago had yet to heal. Loras was almost convinced he would die in this cell without every seeing his family or the outside world again.

He heard footsteps down the stone halls and he shivered with fear backing himself into a corner terrified of who could be down here to torment him once more. But as usual the cell door opened but he didn't see one of the faith millitant, he saw a septa girl. In the usual heavy bulky robes that covered all but her hands and face, she walked in and shut the door behind her,

"Ser Loras?" She whispered,

Loras looked up in surprise. "Y-yes" he whispered

The septa knelt down next to him and he found himself staring at her likely because she was the first girl he’d seen since his arrest. She slowly pulled back her thick dress slightly revealing she has snuck in food. Warm tea, a flask of honey mead, a slab of bacon, a loaf of bread and some apples.

Loras’ eyes lit up, he could smell the heavenly aroma as she placed the feast before him. The food nearly brought tears to his eyes, he was hesitant fearing some sort of trick that if he took it that meant he was greedy and sinful and thus he’d be beaten even worse but he was so hungry he couldn’t help himself, "How...how did you get this?" He whispered, gently reaching for one of the apples,

"The town market. Eat." She whispered,

Loras picked up the apple and nearly wept at its softness. His stomach had been so vacant for so long but he took a small bite, almost as if scared that he was dreaming and these beautiful septa were merely a cruel illusion to torture him but here he thought she was some angel sent to save him. The apple was sweet and he wolfed the first down greedily. He then picked up the slice of bacon taking a large bite of the sweetness of the cured meat making a tear roll down his cheek,

"Make sure to hide it. I don't know what they will do to you if they find it." She whispered,

after several moments of gorging himself and nearly finishing the flask of mead, Loras nodded and hid the rest of the feast behind a loose rock on the wall.

"I will bring more tomorrow. In the mean time try and rest. I promise I'll be back for you," she cooed softly kissing his temple before she fixed her clothes, left his cell and disappeared into the darkness.

Loras sat there, staring at the spot where she'd disappeared for a long while, as if waiting to make sure she was gone. He then reached his hand up and touched the spot where she had kissed him. A lump formed in his throat, overwhelmed by her kindness and the promise of her returning soon.

Days passed, and Loras would find his mind wandering back to that beautiful Septa who had snuck him food, and comforted him. He would spend hours imagining what she might bring him hidden below her robes, his mind then began to wonder what she looked like beneath the heavy robe she wore, and then chastised himself for thinking such lustful thoughts when he was wasting away in a cell but he knew it was only his vacant mind trying to fill itself with anything he could think of.

In the dark of night, he found his cell open once more and she returned to him, Loras almost fell to his knees when she appeared in the doorway. He was beginning to worry if she'd actually return, and now here she was again. He got to his feet and stood before her.

She rushed inside shutting the door and smiling, "Are you alright?" She cooed worrying over a new cut he had been given in the time between her visits,

"I'm fine" he reassured her. He wanted to reach out and touch her. He had to force himself not to and instead sat back down on the cold ground

"you poor thing" she cooed, she ripped some fabric from her dress and cleaned his cut once it was clean and softly kissed just below it,

Loras tried not to shiver as she tended to his cut. Her hands were so soft and delicate. When she kissed him gently below the cut he exhaled sharply. He ached to pull her into him. To feel her soft body against his. He looked up at her with a burning in his eyes, "Please…What is your name?" He asked quietly

"Anastasia." She smiled, "here I brought as much as I could" she explained unpacking all the food she snuck in, this time she'd managed bacon, apples, bread, smoked fish, oranges, cheese and a large bottle of mead,

Loras had never wanted to kiss someone so badly. Her name alone, which was beautiful, only made her more alluring to him. He watched as she unpacked the feast she'd brought him and his mouth watered as she kept pulling out more food, "What are you risking by helping me like this?" he asked quietly

"do not worry over me." she smiled.

Loras felt his eyes drawn to her beautiful smile. She was like an angel sent to deliver him in his darkest hour. How had a lowly septa, who he had never even seen before, somehow become his salvation? "You're not just a septa. Are you?" he asked, gently. His sharp eyes studying her face in the soft candlelight

"I am not." She admitted, "but that's our little secret," she whispered,

Loras chuckled softly. She was a mystery and he liked it even more. He shifted on the floor and reached out to her, gently grabbing her hand. He looked up into her beautiful eyes "And what happens," he asked, his voice lowering "if someone finds out our little secret?"

"They'll execute me. Likely trial you and either execute you or force you though a walk of shame and send you to the wall."

Loras felt a shudder go down his spine. She was risking her life for his. For a knight she had never met. He swallowed hard, his fingers wrapping gently around her hand that he still held on his own. "Why are you doing this for me?" he asked quietly, gently squeezing her hand

"my reasons are... Complicated. But I promise you they are true. Have faith I will return I promise," she smiled resting her hands on his cheeks. She tried to move away at first but she kissed his lips in a tender and beautiful kiss before she pulled back and once more disappeared into the night,

Loras' body reacted even before she'd moved away from him. He grabbed her wrists to keep her from leaving. Suddenly, he needed to feel her against him. He pulled her roughly to him, into his lap. "I need-" he started to say, before giving in to the lust burning in his mind. He crashed his lips into hers in a kiss, desperate to taste the sweetness of her mouth His arms held her in place as he kissed her deeply. He'd been without human touch for so long he practically devoured her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. Loras was already growing hard beneath his pants merely from the human contact and he had to force himself to pull back from the kiss, "Don't leave." he muttered, resting his forehead against hers

"I do not want to but I must... I promise I'll be back soon"

Loras tightened his arms around her waist, holding her to him. He had never been so drawn to a woman before and he'd be damned if he was going to let her, his salvation, go so soon. Loras buried his face in her neck, leaving a line of kisses down the slope of her throat "You promise you'll return?" he asked, his lips brushing against her skin,

"I promise" she cooed kissing his softly "anything you want me to bring you I'll do my best?"

Lorash thought for a moment. He wanted so much from her. Her touch, her kisses, her body. But the first thing that came to his mind was a luxury he'd had at home and was desperate for now, "A bath" he muttered against her neck, leaving another kiss just below her ear

she giggled "I'm not sure I can smuggle a bath under my dress"

He chuckled softly in response, his lips still nuzzling and kissing the skin of her neck. Loras wrapped his hands around her and moved them behind her back. The feel of her soft body against him was so delicious, he felt like he was about to explode "You could bring me you, instead" he whispered, letting his lips ghost against her ear

"of course I will" she smiled

He held her to him, wanting to just bask in the feel of her body. His mind kept drifting to what she would look like beneath all that fabric and to how her skin would feel. Loras inhaled the scent of her, his nose buried in her clothes, "How I wish I could take you right here in this cell" he whispered, his voice heavy with lust

"soon I promise" she cooed kissing him once more before she had to leave rushing away down the hall

Loras let out a soft whimper of disappointment as she pulled away from him. He hadn't felt this much need for a woman ever in his life, he’d only ever put on a smile of a front for women and found his pleasure in the men of court but this woman, his angel. She'd left him hard and aching for her body to be against his again. Loras exhaled, frustrated, and sat in the quiet of the cell. He began to count the days till she returned.

The days went by slowly, and Loras found his mind wandering back to the Septa all too often. He couldn't shake the memory of her body in his lap, the feeling of her lips against his, the taste of her neck against his lips. With nothing left to do, he would lie on the cold floor and imagine what he would do to her the next time she came to him,

One night the door opened again and Anastasia snuck herself inside,

Loras had been staring at the door, his heart racing. He was growing desperate. The days had felt endless since he'd last had her in his arms. He got to his feet, and in a couple of steps had closed the small distance between them and grabbed her around the waist "By the gods, I've missed you" he whispered, his fingers digging into her hips

"as have I." She smiled, she unpacked some food and drinks for him a small but well balanced feast

He was almost tempted to forget the food and just push her down on the floor, to take her then and there. But he was starving and the feast looked delicious. He grabbed a slice of the hot meat pie and groaned in pleasure. "You have no idea what I would do to you if we weren't stuck in this cell" he muttered as he chewed

"I'm well aware." She nodded "hopefully you shouldn't be for much longer... I'm working on a plan hopefully I should be able to get you out of here."

Loras perked up at her words. He put the meat pie down and stepped in front of her. He reached for her hands, lacing his fingers with hers. With a pleading look in his eyes, he held her hands in his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing her knuckles "You can get me out of here? How?"

"The high sparrow is arranging the queen regents walk of shame. All the faith millitant will be out in the streets and the city will be packed with people. We should be able to sneak out"

Loras was suddenly filled with a mixture of relief and hope. He held her hands tighter, not wanting to let her go, for fear she would disappear "Where will we go?" he asked, his mind already racing with ideas of escape, of finally being able to hold her the way he wanted to

"I plan to hire a cabin on a ship taking passage to pentos. I wish I could take you to highgarden but the faith and high sparrow have their claws all over westeros."

Loras found himself grinning at the idea. Freedom. No more cold cells, no more beatings. He could go wherever he wanted and with a beautiful woman by his side. He pulled her close to him, his arms circling her waist. His hands caressed the curve of her hips before resting on the small of her back "When can we leave?"

"soon I promise" she cooed "I know it's hard but you must be patient"

He knew she was right, and that they would have to be smart about this. Loras swallowed his impatience and focused on her eyes, and on her soft body pressed up against his. He sighed, knowing he needed to wait a while longer "It's going to be hard to wait" he muttered, his hands sliding down to rest on her hips,

she softly Giggled and smiled pulling him into a kiss,

Loras melted at the feeling of her lips on his again. He'd been desperate since the last time they kissed. His fingers gripped at her hips, pulling her harder into him. He nipped at her bottom lip as he deepened the kiss, his tongue pressing into her mouth

His hands moved down to her backside and he gripped at it, wanting to press her closer against him. He'd been aching for her body to be pressed against his own since she'd been gone. Loras pressed his tongue deeper into her mouth, letting out a low growl. He'd been thinking of this every night and now here she was, in his arms again

she gently pulls back and peppered kisses down his neck "I know it must be torture for you to wait... But, I can atleast help to... Tied you over" she whispered before she moved to kneel on the dirty cell floor and pepper kisses on his stomach

His spine tingled as she moved down his neck and the sound of her voice sent a shiver over his body. He tilted his head back, giving her better access to his skin, and inhaled a deep breath when her lips moved to his stomach "Gods, yes. Anything. I need you so badly"

she was gentle and careful knowing he'd be bruised and cut from his beatings but she made sure to be slow and careful as she unlaced his britches

Loras looked down to meet her eyes. She was so careful and attentive to all the small injuries he had on his body. He knew she was being caring and sweet, as she always was, but he couldn't help but ache for her to be rough with him. He held the breath in his chest "I need you, please" he panted breathlessly

she Nodded and moved closer starting her work

Loras had to put his hands on the wall behind him to hold himself up. Every time her lips met his skin, it sent a shiver down his spine. He groaned and gasped and panted. His mind couldn't focus Her hands were so soft and gentle on his body as she worked, and his body and mind almost couldn't take it

She worked gently and sweetly her hands and mouth in an intricate dance to make sure he was happy. She was taking her time, with sweet kisses and gentle moans and caresses that made him want to scream with need. His hands tangled in her hair, his back pressed against the wall, holding him up. His mind was completely overwhelmed with her. Everything she did made his body ache for more

He was struggling to hold in the words that were desperate to escape his lips. He needed her, his body desperately aching for more. Loras managed to speak in a trembling voice "More, please, I need more" he begged, his fingers gripping her hair in his hands

she Nodded and became even more attentive,

The added attention was quickly driving him crazy. Loras bit hard into his bottom lip to try and stop himself from making too much noise. He was panting and gasping, desperate for her to go harder. He dug his fingers into her hair and let out a deep exhale, a sharp shiver running down his spine. Loras threw his head back against the wall. She was making him so close, so fast. Every inch of his body was aching for her. He held onto her hair, and in a gasping whisper, he managed to say her name "Anastasia I'm... I'm" he panted He fought to keep his eyes open, his vision hazy from need. Loras was about to tip over the end, his body desperately seeking release.

she continues without even a moment of hesitation Egar to help him feel satisfied after so long

With a half choking gasp, Loras' release washed over him. He shuddered as the pleasure rushed through him. It was as if a dam had broken, all his tension finally being released over her. Loras slumped down,

she slowed and made sure he was alright cleaning up and helping him to lay on the stone bed "there now you rest I'll be back soon I promise"

Loras was panting and shaking, his body and mind still buzzing with pleasure. He was barely able to look her in the eyes as she helped him settle down on the cold stone. Through the hazy bliss of his release, he was still desperate to have her body against his and he reached for her with shaking hands "Stay. Please"

"I wish I could, but it won't be long I promise"

Loras knew she was right, as much as he didn't like it. He reluctantly let go of her, his hands falling back down to his side. He was completely spent, and he just wanted to hold her in his arms as he fell asleep, but he had to wait a little longer. He exhaled, letting his body relax as much as it could against the hard floor.

She kissed his cheek and then once more disappeared into the night leaving him like a desperate puppy awaiting her return. 

[rainwingmarvel7]

Also the more I plan out As the Raven Flies, the more I realize that Victyr really just third wheels Renly and Loras (and then fourth wheels when Margaery comes in) for the entirety of the Stormlands arc lol