Comment fic meme #2

[gotexchange_mod]

After the first round of got_exchange we had a surprisingly successful comment fic meme going for a while (here's a list of all the fics that were written last time), so I thought it might be fun to do this again. (Like last time, it's posted on the mod account journal because I don't want to enable anonymous comments on the exchange community.)

I changed the layout to one that still supports comment titles. I hope it works for everyone. If there are any problems, please let me know.

A couple of rules, or rather guidelines:

- please include the pairing/character (and maybe a short prompt/kink) in the comment title - both for prompts and for fills.
- there are both show and book fans on this comm, so please warn for book spoilers beyond AGOT in the comment title.
- anonymous comments are enabled, but I'd appreciate if we kept them to a minimum. If you absolutely want to go anon, okay, but I'd rather we kept this as non-anonymous as possible.
- all prompts are welcome: smut, gen, romance, fluff, angst, het, slash ... anything goes.
- and the usual: be civil, no character/pairing bashing, no kink shaming etc.

It's perfectly fine to repost prompts from the last comment fic meme or from the exchange.

As with any kink meme, this is only fun if people also fill prompts, not if there are only requests.

Filled prompts:
Jaime/Cersei: first time
Stannis/Davos: "like sailors, swimming in the sound of it (dashed to pieces)"
Queen Shireen: Shireen comes out on top of the Game of Thrones. Three heads has the dragon, and she is part-Targaryen, after all.
Jaime/Brienne: Modern AU as cops
Jon/Sansa: kissed by fire
Viserys, Elia, Rhaenys: leave me your wake to remember you by
Stannis/Jon: things he shouldn't think - or say
Robb/Theon: we had the greatest expectations (ADWD spoilers)
Roose/Robb, crack: The Young Wolf and the Leech Lord (ASOS spoilers)
Balon/Victarion: Faithfulness
Future!Rickon/Shireen: the last night of the world
Jaime/Catelyn and Jaime/Sansa: Jaime has a secret thing for reheads
Ned/Catelyn: when it became a love match
Petyr/Lysa: Her eyes closed
Jon/Val: In which Jon does end up with Val and Winterfell (ADWD spoilers)
Gendry/Arya: role reversal
Tywin/Joanna: dominance
Stannis/Davos, comfort: small undertakings
Stannis/Jon: things he shouldn't think - or say (second fill)
Roose/Walda/Stannis, crackfic: Pink Attack (ADWD spoilers?)
Petyr/Barbrey, bitterness: Ash (ADWD spoilers)
Brandon/Lyanna: belonging to Winterfell
Daenerys/Viserys: Just a Taste
Roose/Theon, Ramsay/Theon: Bad Blood (ADWD spoilers)
Stannis/Sansa: "I am a Stark, I can be brave."
Cersei/Ned: AU in which Ned did take the Iron Throne and Cersei ended up marrying him instead of Robert
Jon/Satin, crackfic: how Jon Snow learned to stop worrying and laugh at the insinuations
Elia/Oberyn: heart's desire
Euron/Victarion: pre-series hatesex
Lysa and Catelyn after the birth of Robb: lie by the river
Roose/Theon (hints of Robb/Theon): Another man's amusement (vague ADWD spoilers?)
Jaime/Brienne, dirty talk and consensual power play: with a wonder and a wild desire
Stannis/Sansa: wedding (sequel)
Stannis/Sansa and Stannis/Davos, dancing: Wishing to be in Two Places at Once
Brandon/Barbrey, Bethany: No True Knight (ADWD spoilers)
Ned, Sansa: "Sansa was a lady at three."
Daenerys/Robb, AU: Fire, Blood, and Honour
Roose/Victarion, crackfic: When all else fails
Robb/Theon, slight Robb/Jon: War is Not a Game
Stannis/Davos from Ned's POV (hints of Robert/Ned): Making You Smile
Catelyn/Petyr: Confrontation
Stannis/Jon, fantasies: and waked half dead with nothing (ASOS spoilers)
Jaime, Arya: The Shadow
Victarion/Asha: We do not sow
Ned/Catelyn, goodbyes: Songs written with swords
Ned/Ashara: winter song
Sansa - Stoneheart: confrontation
Jon/Sansa (AFFC spoilers, prompt is spoilery in itself)
Jon/Val: with you upon the wind (ADWD spoilers)
Daenerys/VIserys, AU: When the Blood began to Show
Stannis/Davos: six perspectives, six realities
Roose/Walda, crackfic: Leeches for Wolves
Jaime/Sansa, talking about Joffrey: Ignorance and Bliss
Sansa, Rickon: The last two Starks (ADWD spoilers)
Theon/Robb: Regrets (ADWD spoilers)
Cersei/Stannis, seduction fail: Persuasion
Jon, Stannis, Devan, mentions of Davos: Through the Eyes of a Child
Sansa, Brienne: True Knights (AFFC spoilers, prompt is spoilery in itself)
Stannis/Sansa: bedding & wedding night (sequel to this)
Catelyn, Jon (slight Jon/Robb), reunion AU: Lady of Ashes (ASOS spoilers)
Sansa/Robb, AU in which they do exchange her for Jaime: The Mercy of the Frozen Ground
Tywin/Joanna: dominance (second fill)
Jon Snow/Jeyne Westerling(/Robb Stark): post-series - tell me we both matter, don't we?
Robb/Jeyne: what was it like being the queen to a Northern king? (ASOS spoilers)
Robb/Roslin Frey: Robb upholds his vow and ends up with Roslin


Multiple fills are of course welcome.

Comments

Jaime/Cersei - First time.

[mandatorily.livejournal.com]

Jaime/Cersei - First time they make love. Bonus points if one of them (doesn't matter which) is reluctant at first, but warms up to the idea after some heavy seducing from the other.

FILL: Jaime/Cersei; "The Precipice"; R

[lainemontgomery.livejournal.com]

He’s different now.

When her brother left for Crakehall, when she pulled him into the stables to bid him a proper farewell before their father came down to see him off, they’d been of a height, both with long curls and soft cheeks and bodies made up of straight lines and flat planes.

But now he stands a hand-span taller than she, all long legs and broadening shoulders and wiry muscles. After they steal away into the quiet room in the rear tower and bolt the door, he grips her tight- his hands are big, big and rough- and all but pushes her onto the bed.

And then it’s a mad scramble, just like always- buttons and laces and hooks, fabric flying and falling, and then skin on skin, her sweet Jaime, his hands and mouth everywhere.

He seems such a man that she worries that she’ll find hair on his chest, but she is relieved to discover it as smooth as ever. There is a very slight prickling on his cheeks, but she doesn’t let it trouble her- their lips fit together, perfect, perfect always, and when he urges her mouth open with his tongue, she breathes his name.

She finds that she can’t stop saying it- he kisses his way up and down her body, over her little buds of breasts, down her stomach, between her legs- she squeals then; “Oh Gods, Jaime”- and then back up to her lips- he laughs at her insistent echoes: “Jaime, Jaime, Jaime...”

He’s strong enough to cage her in completely, and it thrills rather than alarms her. She reaches down to stroke him- he’s grown larger there, too. He bucks into her hand as he sucks on the white skin of her neck, then pushes forward, enough that the head of him teases against her most sensitive spot.

She sighs and squirms, delighting in the soft pressure- and then he shifts lower, until he’s positioned just above her opening.

Cersei clenches her hands on her brother’s shoulders and lifts him up enough to look him in the eye. Jaime just smiles, that crooked, wicked smile that makes her heart pound, and he lifts one hand to stroke her hair while using the other to stroke somewhere else.

“There’s nothing to fear,” he whispers. “You’ve no maidenhead to speak of anyway- I was there, don’t you remember? When you broke it riding Uncle Gerion’s stallion?”

She nods, but she bites her lip all the same. For she realizes what this will mean, even if her brother can’t see it. If Jaime enters her, truly claims her, they will never be able to make themselves forget. Before this, there was always the possibility, the idea in the crevices of Cersei’s mind that she might move on from this, that she might marry a man she loves and give herself to him willingly, that she might remember these secret trysts with her twin as nothing but childish games, something to recall with a wistful fondness and a hint of embarrassment.

But as she looks into those mirrors of her own eyes, as she feels the warmth of his body against her and tastes the sweat of his skin- her silver prince is gone, wedded to another, and how could some vague, phantom idea of “husband” compare to the reality of her beautiful golden brother here between her legs?

Her mind wanders absurdly to an afternoon years past, when she watched in horror as Jaime leaped from the cliffs of Casterly Rock into the brackish water below. After he re-emerged, wet and glistening and glorious, he shouted at her to join- Cersei stood at the edge, her heel firmly planted while her toes hovered- “Don’t think, just jump!” She’d closed her eyes tight, bent her knees, knowing that a split second was all that stood between her and the downward fall- “Don’t think, just jump!”

Jaime leans in to kiss her again, his forehead against hers, his eyelashes swiping against her own with every blink. “Please, Cersei,” he breathes.

Cersei wraps her legs around him, and she jumps.

Stannis/Jon: the son he never had

[linndechir.livejournal.com]

When Stannis looks at Jon, he sees the son he never had.

Can be gen or slash, I'd just really like something about Stannis seeing some of himself in Jon.

Stannis with Davos and/or Jon: Saying Your Names

[linndechir.livejournal.com]

People so rarely call Stannis by his name, it's always "my lord" or "Your Grace".

Just give me any situation (sexual or not) in which Stannis asks either Davos or Jon to call him by his name.

FILL: Stannis/Davos | like sailors, swimming in the sound of it (dashed to pieces) | R-ish

[outboxed.livejournal.com]

____

The first time Davos had said it, it had been a word breathed against Stannis' neck which he hoped would go unheard. He whispered it, like a secret he'd sworn never to repeat; there's guilt in it and desperation and need. He'd been younger then, more arrogant, caught up in his own victory, and when the Lord of Storm's End had asked him what he'd wanted he'd told him, bolder than anything, (insolent, he thinks now) "you, my lord".

Even then, he hadn't know what had provoked him to be so foolish. Maybe it was the looks Stannis Baratheon had been giving him, appraising and not well hidden, blue eyes fixed on him with something like intent. He would never say it now, given a second chance, not "you, my lord", but he'd been buoyed up by his own victory and thought he could do anything so why not that, why not ask Stannis Baratheon for a thing he seemed himself only too willing to give?

He'd been granted his request; and, with it, the closest thing to a smile he'd yet seen on Stannis Baratheon, a slight upward curve of the lip which he might not have noticed in another man.

It had been that night that he'd said it, for the first time, Stannis' name; breathed it against his skin whilst Stannis' hands bruised his hips. He wasn't sure then, and isn't now, if Stannis had heard it but he supposes that it doesn't matter.

Stannis had said, the following day, that what had passed could not be his prize, that he would give him a knighthood and a name, as his good services demanded. Davos had not argued. He had not asked again though, not for Stannis, even in spite of the looks that passed between them sometimes, catching them both unawares. And he had not addressed Stannis by name again, as if afraid that Stannis might remember that first time, as he so often did himself, speaking it as a whisper in the dark.

Ned/Catelyn - when it became a love match

[juno-chan.livejournal.com]

Ned/Catelyn - The moment(s) where one realized they were in love with the other. Bonus points if it's Ned, because I love when Ned has feelings.

Re: Ned/Catelyn - when it became a love match

[lit-chick08.livejournal.com]

He still thinks of her as Brandon's.

Ned knows how silly it is, especially when she is cradling their son against her chest, smiling and singing to Robb with a lightness which Winterfell has not known in so long. But every time he sees Catelyn, every time she turns her face up for a kiss or he reaches for her, Ned cannot help but think of his big brother, of the man whose place he was forced to take in every measure. Sometimes he even imagines he is going to wake up and find it has all been a dream, that Brandon has wed Catelyn, that Lyanna wed Robert, that Benjen is still racing through the wolfswood instead of serving on the Wall.

Ned likes Catelyn Tully - my wife, he reminds himself - but she still doesn't feel like his.

* * *

Her stomach is so big, she cannot see her feet, and Ned finds himself watching her now more than ever.

He was fighting a war when she carried Robb, and it feels like another lifetime when he remembers his own mother carrying Lyanna and Benjen. Ned waits to see her become clumsy or complain about the added weight of the child, but Catelyn seems to bloom with this pregnancy, with this spring child growing inside of her. If anything, she becomes more pleasant with pregnancy, and it makes Ned feel ashamed he is not more gregarious, more like his siblings who were always so talkative, who always knew what to say and how to say it.

Ned has always been a man of few words, but he wishes he had the right ones to give Catelyn. She deserves kind words, this woman who accepted the hand the gods dealt her without ever complaining about the unfairness of it all.

There's more North in her than she thinks, Ned decides as she lets Robb place his little hands upon her stretched stomach.

* * *

She is clearly exhausted after the birth, but Ned does not think she has ever looked more beautiful. Her red hair (he so loves her hair) hangs loose over her shoulders, her cheeks are still flushed, and, when she grins widely and proclaims they have a daughter, Ned knows in that moment he truly loves Catelyn Tully.

His hands shake a bit as he accepts the baby, staring down into a face which is a replica of Catelyn's, and, when Ned looks to Catelyn, she is still smiling.

"I love you," he blurts out, the first impulsive words of their marriage, and Ned wonders if he should have waited, if there is a proper way of telling a woman that you love her. He idly thinks Brandon would have known but pushes the thought away as quickly as it comes.

Her smiles becomes softer, almost secretive, as she replies, "I love you." Patting the bed bedside her, Catelyn waits until he has sat beside her before pressing a kiss to his whiskered cheek.

"I think we should call her Sansa," Catelyn says, stroking the baby's cheek, and, for the first time since saying his vows, Ned knows with certainty this is the life he is meant to have.

Myrcella, Tyrion- The Last of Our Kind (Post-ADwD)

[lainemontgomery.livejournal.com]

After the Dragon Queen conquers King's Landing and destroys the remaining vestiges of House Lannister, Tyrion brings his niece back to court. Hurt/comfort, helping each other heal...all that good stuff.

Re: Myrcella, Tyrion- The Last of Our Kind (Post-ADwD)

[vaznetti]

I am giving this one a try.

Ramsay/Theon, humiliation- spoilers past AGOT

[sternflammenden.livejournal.com]

Pre-Reek Theon, humiliation, creepiness, go nuts.
Bonus points if you work in Roose, especially if he's criticizing Ramsay.

Tywin/Joanna, dominance - spoilers past AGOT

[sternflammenden.livejournal.com]

In one of the books, it's said that Joanna ruled Tywin at home. This can be anything from gen to full out porn. I'd just like to see an example of their interaction.

FILL: Tywin/Joanna, dominance - "The Flint and the Flame"; NC-17 (Part One)

[lainemontgomery.livejournal.com]

The Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock take their places at the giant table in the Hall, and it is a study in sharp and soft, cool and warm, the gold of metal and the gold of sunlight.

Joanna looks down at the polished wood of the tabletop and watches her husband’s reflection as he handles the petitioners. Gilded, she thinks, never able to shake her admiration for his stoic, statuesque carriage.

When she announced her intention to wed their cousin, her brother had laughed, insisting that Tywin was no true Lannister, he lacked the passion and vigor and fire for which the family was known- “Cold-blooded, a serpent through and through,” Stafford had insisted. But that was wrong, so very wrong; Tywin’s was a cool fire, a simmering heat beneath the surface, and his ability control the burn was what drew her attention, what first led her to believe that she could love him.

For bombast and showy displays suit her not at all; Joanna’s nature calls for something more subtle, quieter but no less powerful. She observes her own reflection beside her husband’s, and her heart flutters with pleasure at the marriage of similarity and contrast; both are golden, both are beautiful, but Tywin’s face is angular where hers is round, Tywin is tall and lean where she is small and curved, his lips sit in a determined line while hers never seem to stop smiling.

She notices the flare right away; Tywin straightens his posture even further, his shoulders go tense, his voice grows quieter and more dangerous. And this is why she knows herself to be necessary. Just a light brush of her hand on his thigh, a gentle pressure of her fingertips, and he pauses, collects himself, lets the temper subside and sees again through the lens of reason.

This is their way, this wordless, seamless exchange. Everything precise and minute and intuitive- we burn the same, and we both know that even a cool burn needs a palliative.

Joanna generally keeps quiet during these sessions; it’s all different when Tywin is at court, of course, and the petitioning smallfolk know it well. But what her husband needs now is a calm and silent presence, the gentle to his harsh, the lady to his lord.

What he needs behind the closed doors of their bedchamber is something else entirely.

Balon/Victarion

[linndechir.livejournal.com]

I'm not even picky, I just want some Greyjoycest porn. Shallow, I know, I know. Any fill of this would make me happy, though I'd prefer it was consensual (or dub-con, maybe). Victarion and Balon seem to be the only Greyjoy brothers who did not have a completely fucked up relationship, so I don't really see one of them raping the other.

Re: Balon/Victarion

[sternflammenden.livejournal.com]

I want to write this but I'm at work. So I'll fill this tonight.

Joanna, Jaime/Cersei- caught in the act

[lainemontgomery.livejournal.com]

After she walks in on Jaime and Cersei in a compromising position, Joanna tries to explain to her twins why they must never do THAT again.

Petyr/Lysa, King's Landing (ASoS spoilers)

[juno-chan.livejournal.com]

Something about their relationship in King's Landing, how Petyr manipulates her.

FILL: Her eyes closed, Part I

[sternflammenden.livejournal.com]

It isn’t difficult to find moments in which he can come to her. Although Lysa knows that she should refuse his offers and advances (after all, she should think of their son at least, hard-won to say the least), it’s Petyr. Her Petyr, but not quite. After all, she’s married, Lady Arryn now, and although she isn’t so much a part of court life as her Lord is, tongues are hungry for gossip, minds starved for scandal.

It’s not what it looks like, she tells herself. Just an old friend, risen high. We only speak of the past, and not the present, or what could be.

That is a lie, of course.

It’s Lysa’s hand that has forced Petyr’s rise, her quiet whispers in Jon’s ear, and he, eager to see his pale, careworn wife smile again, agrees, ensures a place in Council for his wife’s childhood companion. His honor blinds him to her true motives, and while practice and custom have decreed that her championing of this upstart remain honorable, she cannot help but feel a twinge of shame when all of her machinations, however transparent they are, come to fruition.

*

“You see, I remembered,” Petyr says, brandishing a chain of wildflowers, which Lysa will later press in her book of hours, preserving it, locking it away lest it should be seen. She doesn’t answer at first, because her mind is, as it is now too often, in the Riverlands, running along the banks with Cat and Petyr, always struggling to keep up, always trailing behind. But she remembers now one day when they’d woven crowns, bedecked each other with fly-blown daisies, Petyr teasingly pulling Cat’s from her fiery locks and placing it crookedly on Lysa’s head. They’d all laughed, but later, when she was alone, she’d pressed it to her like a lover, savoring the memory, however slight, of his nimble fingers on her brow, Cat’s giggles, the blush that had risen to her cheeks when he’d bowed mockingly, calling her his lady.

“I’ve never forgotten,” Lysa says softly, and hates herself.

*

It is hard for her to believe that he is a man, and not the boy who she’d held in her heart. He’s still small and slender, yet elegant, without the graceless charm of his boyhood. And stylish, always clad in such finely-wrought garments, his neat moustache and beard adding the illusion of age and experience to his still-youthful features. When he brushes lips to her cheek to greet her, it scratches and she finds that she does not care for it, but holds her tongue.

Why spoil everything, after all?

Petyr is careful to always appear solicitous, a cosmopolitan acquaintance, a chivalrous gentleman paying court to an old friend whose life would be lonely indeed without such attention, her husband bound up daily in affairs of state. Next to his graceful figure and sparkling conversation, Lysa feels plain and dull. She has not taken to the capital as he has, and her body has thickened from childbirth, although she takes care to cloak it in the finest gowns. But he never lets on that she is any different from the slender creature who ran laughing through the reeds, or the girl who’d taken him to her bed, once, with open arms and a foolishly transparent heart.

He makes her feel young again. That is something.

*

One evening, when she has retired early from an interminable feast, Petyr meets her in her rooms. He says nothing, but takes her hand and presses it to her lips. Lysa allows it, thinking that it can do no harm. When he spans her waist she permits that as well. And when his lips meet hers, she responds, thinking that she will put a stop to things before they go too far, but when they fall to the bed, her resolve falls away as easily as her dress.

Stannis/Davos - Morning after (lol recycled prompt)

[roflskate.livejournal.com]

...I don't care how the sex happened, I just want to know their reactions to it. :|

Jaime/Sansa and/or Jaime/Catelyn- red hair

[lainemontgomery.livejournal.com]

Jaime has a secret thing for redheads.

FILL: Jaime/Sansa and Jaime/Catelyn- red hair - red, i feel my soul on fire (pt 1/2)

[juno-chan.livejournal.com]

He keeps it locked deep, a secret he barely whispers to himself, but Jaime likes his sister best when the setting sun kisses all the colors of dusk across her in his bed, when she is bathed in purple and orange and red. Red, most of all.

He’s always had a thing, truly, for red hair.

(He can never, ever, ever tell Cersei.)

It’s less common than the other colors, after all, and if he’s learned anything from his father (a Lannister always pays his debts our name lives on hear me roar) it’s that rare things are valuable and worth owning, and worth owning more than anyone else, because it always comes in handy, in the end, to have more – just more, of everything, all the time.

He could have had one, a redheaded Tully bride, sweet and unassuming and pliable as she’d been. But glory and honors had been the rarity he’d sought, then, and he’d longed for the red of blood and battle instead of something softer between his fingers (and of course, there had been Cersei, there had always been Cersei).

And besides, it is her sister Catelyn’s hair that he catches between his fingers, looping it around his glove and she raises an eyebrow.

“Pretty,” he says, and she laughs, she’s laughing at him and he likes that, she’s far more spirited than her sister and he likes that too, it suits her to have a fiery personality to go with that fiery hair.

Maybe he would have married that redheaded Tully girl, if it had ever been an option, if she had not been promised to a man in the North (but probably not, if he is being honest with himself, still that call of blood and battle).

Years pass and the seasons change and he’s going North with his sister the queen, and it is exactly as desolate and barren as he had imagined (everything is muted in grey and blue and Jaime holds with brighter colors).

Catelyn Stark is a beautiful woman – nowhere near as beautiful as Cersei, but being as beautiful as Cersei is a feat that no woman Jaime has ever met has managed, but she’s still lovely and she still has all that red hair. It’s bled into the Starks now, he sees, the children have the Tully look, and the luckier they are for it, in Jaime’s opinion there is no need for ladies and lads who look like Eddard Stark, always so solemn and long-faced.

Her girl (his girl, Ned Stark’s girl, is all that matters in Robert’s mind) is to be Joffrey’s bride and she is flawless, if her mother is copper than she is porcelain, all the small imperfections carefully smoothed away. Her hair is red, too, brighter, burnished, blinding.

How beautiful, he thinks, and how quickly she shall break.

(He is right, but she will mend and meld into something stronger.)

Shireen-- Queen

[aella_irene]

Shireen comes out on top of the Game of Thrones. Three heads has the dragon, and she is part-Targaryen, after all.

Re: Shireen-- Queen

[lydzi.livejournal.com]

Hope it will be ok :). Shireen is Love <3

Queen

When she first sees the two other heads of the dragons, Shireen resents it. She doesn't know why exactly but she does and now that she's seated on the iron throne she can fully think about it though the two other heads both are not at court. Tyrion Lannister is in the west, in some peaceful house with books and wine probably. He would have been a better choice for the throne some say, but the people of what was former called Westeros never warmed to him.
Rickon Stark... well no one really knew where he was. The younger Stark was namely King in the North and in the North he sure was but that was about it. His sister was the true ruler there. Rickon never cared for power, and on the other hand he was starting to become a legend: the king with red hair and a mighty black direwolf wandering in the roads. People adored him for that.

Shireen would have liked that too, she thought. He actually told her to come with him after what is called now Dragons Day, and she knew it was something unique of him to tell her that. Precious even.

But, like her father told her a long time ago, the iron throne was her's by right. She had a duty in the South. It was home somehow. The North was always too cold for her even during the battles and snow reminded her of her missing father. Later, when she's finally crowned,once peace is secure in the North and the South and Edric is long gone from her chambers (though his sweet smell somehow still lingers in the air after him), Shireen sits at her desk and looks down at her hard won decrees and book of new laws. As she does, she thinks to herself that being a good person doesn’t necessarily mean always doing good things. In those moments, she values even more her father's behaviour. She wonders if he felt that way too. Part of her knows that the answer is probably yes.

It is, after all, the price of their work.

Jaime/Brienne - gender role reversal

[janie-tangerine.livejournal.com]

Any typical courtly love trope that you can think of with the typical roles switched. IE she saves his life and he kisses her in thanks or she's the one making the first move or heck, if we want to go the porny way she's the one usually topping him (in case, please have it consensual and with the both of them getting off on it). Bonus points if Jaime snarks his way through whatever happens.

Robb/Theon - Post ADWD Spoilers AU

[iamacoyfish.livejournal.com]

SPOILERS UP TO ADWD.





Maybe Robb doesn't die during the Red Wedding, and during his northern campaign, he finds Theon Greyjoy again. c:

Re: Robb/Theon - Post ADWD Spoilers AU

[janie-tangerine.livejournal.com]

... okay I think I need to give this one a go. Is there anything specific you'd want/not want to happen or do I just go with it? :)

Jaime/Brienne Modern AU As Cops

[iorwen107.livejournal.com]

Jaime and Brienne are reluctant police partners on the case of missing Sansa. Love/Hate tension. Porny if you want.

Re: Jaime/Brienne Modern AU As Cops

[outboxed.livejournal.com]

This is an AMAZING prompt. I'm not sure I trust myself to write Jaime/Brienne but I love this concept.

Jon/Sansa - ASOS Spoilers

[midnightblack07.livejournal.com]

Jon/Sansa (Jon/Ygritte) - kissed by fire...

Filled: Jon/Sansa, 1/2

[just-a-dram.livejournal.com]

Lady Sansa feeds Jon’s men in a banquet that almost recalls the bounty of the land prior to the arrival of winter. She sits at his side, and he finds himself not eating the venison before him, as he tries to think of the courtesies she must expect from him, but which escape him in his exhaustion.

“Jon,” she says, and he looks down to see her delicate hand on his arm. “You must be weary.”

His eyes lock on her at his name on her lips. She is distractingly beautiful, and he is embarrassed how often his eyes are drawn to her. To her long red hair, unbound over her shoulders. He remembers a pretty little girl, who liked songs and practiced her embroidery with great care, but he had not imagined this great lady. This red headed beauty reminds him of her mother, which turns something in his gut, but she reminds him of someone else as well.

Kissed by fire.

“The men are tired,” he says, refusing to speak of his own complaints when others have given so much. “It is good to rest tonight.”

“I would have you rest here more than the night. We have plenty of provisions put aside, more than enough.”

“We couldn’t presume,” Jon begins, but she interrupts, withdrawing her hand and smoothing out her skirts with a shake of her head.

“Of course you can. Now, how long will you stay with us?”

The intention is to move on, further south, but it is a tempting offer. He has had nothing but thoughts of feeding his men, fighting alongside them, and surviving another day for so long that he had forgotten such beauty could exist in the world. Or that a woman can be so very distracting. She seems so calmly certain that they must stay that Jon finds himself almost persuaded that war can keep another fortnight. Despite her serene countenance and soft eyes, it might be an offer made only out of the duty she feels towards him as family, and one that might keep her from her own travels.

“I understood that you were planning on leaving the Vale.”

Winterfell, it is whispered. He can only hope that he has been misinformed. Winterfell, the whole of the North, is a nightmare from which he has barely awoken himself, and he would sleep less than he already does, should he think Sansa headed there.

“Yes, but I would delay my leaving to be at my brother’s side.”

He feels his cheeks flush like a youth, and he looks down at the knife in his hand that still has not cut one piece of meat. Her brother, and as such, he feels even more compelled to advise her, as her lord father might have wanted him to do, although she is a woman grown and clearly master of herself.

“But, in time, yes,” she continues, “Ser Jaime means to lead me home.”

The man’s name makes Jon’s skin crawl. He was none too happy to find him amongst Sansa’s men. Of course, she was once a Lannister by marriage, but he did not imagine she wanted any remembrance of that attachment.

“I don’t see how you can trust the Kingslayer,” he says.

His grip on his knife tightens, as he takes note that the Kingslayer seems as distracted from his supper as he is; his green eyes look out through a hank of blond, ever drawn to Sansa.

“Jaime?” she says, sounding almost amused by his concern. “He pledged himself to my lady mother and he has pledged himself to me as well. He has his own kind of honor, and I trust him to keep his word.”

Surely she cannot have forgotten what he and the rest of the Lannisters did to their family, that none of them should be trusted. From what he has seen, however, his sister is not foolish, so there must be something that has tied her to this man.

Only one possibility has occurred to Jon: “He killed Petyr Baelish then?”

He sees the muscles in her jaw tighten, and it is the first time he has sensed something amiss.

“No. Petyr was dead when Jaime found me.” She looks down the length of the table at the golden handed man, who reminds Jon of Robb’s battles as King of the North and how he was not at Robb’s side. “Please don’t fight with him,” she pleads, while still holding the Kingslayer’s gaze.

Jaime - Gen - ASOS Spoiler-ish

[midnightblack07.livejournal.com]

Jaime Lannister - my hands, they're all I know...

Jon/Val - ADWD Spoilers

[midnightblack07.livejournal.com]

Jon/Val - In which Jon does end up with Val and Winterfell (the circumstances surrounding exactly how it happens are up to the author of course).

Filled: Jon/Val - Spoilers

[lit-chick08.livejournal.com]

So, shockingly, this got a little long: Tame the Ghosts in My Head (http://archiveofourown.org/works/357364)

Daenarys/Victarion - Chemical reaction.

[lydzi.livejournal.com]

Daenarys/Victarion - She starts calling him her salt husband. Be free, I just want some steam tbh.

Future!Rickon/Future!Shireen - After all it's the end of the world.

[lydzi.livejournal.com]

Future!Rickon/Future!Shireen: The world is crumbling around them, it's fair to search for a bit of comfort.

FILL: Future!Rickon/Shireen, the last night of the world

[sternflammenden.livejournal.com]

He’s wearing rough-spun, dull greens and browns, the better to blend with the shades of the forest, to remain unseen from the eyes of men and worse. His lady’s clad in a golden gown, diamond patterned with black, the color of her house. Her hair, carefully arrayed, falls over the ruined side of her face. But Rickon does not mind that. His hands and his lips have caressed her there, where the skin grows rough and cracked, and although Shireen has long since cast away shame, there is a part of her, deep down, that fears his repulsion.

But there is no time to dwell on vanities in the world in which they live. Last evening, an entire holdfast gone, the bodies scattered, shattered almost, blood in the snow like a ruby ruin. Blue-eyed demons come in the night, taking what’s left, what’s intact, and adding to their never-ending armies.

Rickon’s hand clasps hers, the other clutching a dragonglass dagger. It is one of the last.

He kisses her, and outside, in the darkness, a wolf howls, but it’s not a melancholy sound. It’s a cry of triumph.

Jon/Ygritte - ASOS Spoilers

[midnightblack07.livejournal.com]

Jon/Ygritte - you must pay no attention to the things I say...

Sansa/Robb

[ishi-chan.livejournal.com]

(or Sansa + Robb)

They do exchange her for Jaime, but the girl Robb gets back is different than the one he bid farewell to in Winterfell.

Re: Sansa/Robb

[river-soul.livejournal.com]

Working on this one but it's turning out darker than I anticipated. That ok?

Jaime/Brienne, beyond vanilla

[fallingtowers.livejournal.com]

I love reading perfectly respectable heterosexual vanilla smut for my favourite pairing as much as the next fangirl, but now I've been wondering what sort of slightly kinkier stuff would work for those two. For example:

Dirty talk? Because Brienne is shy and a bit of a prude and Jaime has a filthy mouth and likes teasing/annoying others...
Orgasm denial/control? Since both can get pretty combative or competitive on occasion...
Creative ways of working around the Kingsguard oath of "fathering no children"? Well, there is moon tea, but there might also be plenty of alternatives to P-I-V sex...
Obedience/taking & giving orders, not necessarily on the battlefield?

Or get more creative, as long as it's consensual. Um, I will just leave that here then. *slinks away*

Re: Jaime/Brienne, beyond vanilla

[janie-tangerine.livejournal.com]

er, so, I miight have filled this but since my doubts about my skills with het porn are second only about my doubts about being able to write not ridiculous dirty talk I'm currently having it betaed. I should hopefully be able to post it tomorrow. :)

Jaime/Sansa

[ishi-chan.livejournal.com]

they talk about Joffrey (and maybe Cersei too)

FILL: Jaime/Sansa; "Ignorance and Bliss"; R (Part One)

[lainemontgomery.livejournal.com]

“I didn’t do it.”

They’ve had this conversation so many times- while riding side by side through the dense woods, while sitting together by the weak campfire, while curled up against each other under tattered furs on a tiny camp bed. She always takes care to look him right in the eye- lack of eye contact is the easiest way to spot a liar, Petyr used to say-

And he always nods, always attempts to mollify her with a non-committal “As you say.” But his eyes seem to look past her, never locking on her own fervent gaze. Then he tries to divert her attention, whether with crude japes to make her gasp and laugh or with the deliberate movement of his hand over her curves, his lips on her collarbone-

But tonight, Sansa clenches her fingers in the short wisps of gold on Jaime’s head and pulls his face up. He knits his brows together with some annoyance, but she proceeds nonetheless-

“You don’t believe me.”

He sighs, a dry, heavy sound. “Why does it matter whether I believe you? I’ve sworn to protect you regardless...”

“It matters to me.”

She feels him shifting away from her, as much as he can in the narrow cot. “I’ve never known you for a liar. If you say that you didn’t, I’ve no reason to believe otherwise.”

That’s not an answer, she wants to scream, but he closes the space between them at once, his arms wrapping around her, his left hand slipping down the back of her shift to trace the thick ridges of scar tissue that cover her shoulder-blades.

Sansa shivers- she hates to be touched there, and he knows it- and Jaime whispers in her ear-

“All I am saying is that if you did do it, you’d have had every reason.”

A part of her wants to drop to her knees and thank the gods for this unlikely friendship, for Jaime’s choice to support her over his own sister, his own family-

And yet. Family.