lays on lestat. "pay attention to moi." ( @goldenngore )

𝐀𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 the other, eyes peered up for a moment to find that there was light threatening to peer through the blacked out curtains. ( THOSE were the most safe in their situation at this point, especially during the morning sun. He felt it need necessary to hug him closer, hiding his face in the blankets & the golden waves of his hair. The soft scent of flowers drifted into his nostrils, he breathed out against pale skin. ) ❝ — qu'est-ce que tu as besoin de ? I am awake now. I will give you what you need. Are you alright ? ❞ The alarms in his mind were going off, though he was still in the sleepy aspects of his mind & trying hard to go back to sleep until nightfall. Soft reassuring strokes up the spine, the shift under the pillow made him suddenly uneasy while he waited. There needn't to be anything wrong for his love to want attention, of course — but he asked questions just to be sure. When there was no answer, he sat up quickly to find the knight draped over dainty. ❝ . . . Loras ? ❞

@goldenngore ctd.

WRATH HAD EVADED HIM FOR AS LONG AS HE COULD REMEMBER ; brief flits of anger and discontent may have been as familiar as the sunset upon the waves , but even those faded and went almost as swiftly as they came . for a man who had been wronged and betrayed a hundred times over , Maron Greyjoy indeed had remained remarkably patient . remarkably calm . difficult to rile , slow to resort to physical violence ; smiling in the face of the adversary that long had begun to spit venom with rattling blades in hands . more than once had others wondered whether he was angry . furious , and understandably so , at the world at large - and each time he had shrugged the broad shoulders and asked what for . like swallowing poison and expecting the target of his ire to die from it , he saw no point in it .

wrath - thus - did not impress him either .

another day at sea and they would get to Gulltown ; the last Westerosi harbor he plans to visit , stocking up before crossing over to the east . as skilled and cowardly as the Vale had been in keeping out of the war , rumour had spread that things had become rather disorderly since the death of Lysa Arryn and the disappearance of the Blackfish , and the loyalty to the North had partially made way for better bargains and pockets filled with gold . men flying the banners of Tarth had been spotted , along with other supporters of Stannis Baratheon . the order given thus had come naturally to him and without much hesitation . and before he could have noticed the loaded canon that was Loras Tyrell , nor address it in any way , he had turned his back and marched himself across the deck , down towards his chambers .

none of his crew would question him . none would dare to protest - and the Iron Captain expected no less .

picture the open surprise thus hitting his face when , no minute later , Loras wedged himself between the door and Maron , barring the way , and though the demand ( bold in and on itself ) came calmly , there was something stirring in those golden eyes of his . so perfectly crafted sits the beautiful mask upon your face , and yet it is the eyes , always the eyes , that are true and they will always betray you .

brows arched did he merely look at Loras for a moment ; perhaps waiting for him to step back and declare it a joke - before remembering that the Knight of Flowers thoroughly lacked humour . . . and he quietly cussed Loras Tyrell then . the brazenness . the fearlessness . the audacity . everything that so undeniably pulled him towards the knight , he had become quite willing to bend his own rules plenty already only to entertain Loras - but even that willingness had its boundaries .

" huh " , a first response , accompanied by one corner of his lips ticking upwards , and Maron briefly averted his gaze to the floor to rid himself of the amused grin threatening to form , before looking at Loras again . " first of all , I don't need to explain anything to you . this is my ship , my word is the law , and you agreed to oblige , Ser , when you first set foot on deck . " amusement never quite left his gaze , but this time something else almost overshadowed it . something dark . unwavering and strong , promising to drown whomever dared question him . for Loras however , he harboured feelings he wouldn't deny , nor forbid himself . plenty of leeway was granted to the knight already . but even that , it appeared , had its limits .

" but since I like you , I'll do you the kindness . " head cocked to the side did he curiously study Loras' face for another second , before nonchalantly stepping forward , almost walking into the knight and thus , without much pressure or haste , forcing him a step back . and another . " Gulltown is said to currently host supporters of Stannis Baratheon as guests . quite a lot of them , too . " another step forward . " now I wish to anchor , fill up our supplies , and leave again as soon and quietly as possible , preferably without drawing any attention . you , however , " and he nods towards Loras , still nothing but a few inches separating them . " I have learned by now , fly off the handle very easily , especially when Stannis is involved . you are brash and reckless , and as entertaining as that may be , it isn't something I am willing to risk this time . " he nonchalantly kicked the door to his chambers shut with the heel of his boot , briefly wondering whether Loras had even noticed he was being bullied , gently , into the room . " which is why you are staying on board . there , your explanation . you're welcome . " a mere few inches between them indeed . and how easy it would be now , to simply lean in and steal a kiss from those full lips . . .

"my   house   once   put   trust   in   your   king's   house."   close   as   brothers,   that's   what   his   father   used   to   tell   him.   robert   baratheon   had   been   a   myth   of   a   man,   far   from   the   image   of   the   drunken   king   that   had   rode   into   winterfell   what   seemed   only   a   summer   ago.   the   tales   his   father   had   spoken,   had   made   robb   prideful   of   having   been   named   after   the   man.   robb   stark   had   been   named   after   a   king   and   now   he   wears   a   crown   of   his   own,   and   it   weights   down   on   him.   he   wins   every   battle   but   the   war   is   not   yet   his   for   the   taking   and   the   more   time   it   passes,   the   more   he   grows   impatient.

  his   mother   had   been   send   to   speak   with   renly   baratheon,   but   perhaps   more   incentivisation   had   to   be   made.   a   more   direct   approach.   he   would   rather   deal   with   renly   than   stannis'   stern   looks   and   the   tales   of   his   red   woman.   "I   see   no   reasons   for   us   to   be   on   opposing   ends.   the   end   goal   of   this   is   the   same   for   all   of   us."   and   as   long   as   house   lannister   pays   for   the   crimes   done   against   his   family,   then   robb   does   not   care   who   sits   on   that   throne.   he   has   the   north   for   himself   and   justice   to   serve. @goldenngore

@goldenngore: The biting cold from outside was the worst he'd ever felt. Francia was cold during winter, but not like this. Norway's chills were nothing to take lightly. Loras flat out refused to leave his bed one snow Laden morning, seeking additional warmth beneath the many furs. The hearth fire was simply not enough to bring back the heat he usually radiated; it felt as if the sun itself had abandoned the earth.

the cold bite of the earth was a welcome reminder of home, a comfort that was hard to put into words. it reminded him of his parents, toiling away on the farm to look after the animals and spin the wool to make new clothes. he had always been a man of winter, enjoying the ability to wrap up warm over having to find some respite from the heat. in the last few years in francia and england, it was this biting cold he had missed the most.

he was enjoying it now, wrapped up in his furs and turning his face up towards the winter sun. it held little warmth, but the light shone upon the snow-covered land to make it sparkle like diamonds. he turned back towards the door to say make a comment about it to his lover, but was distracted by the rather adorable way he curled up in the blankets, clearly hating the chill as much as stígandr loved it. pushing himself from his perch, he smiles as he makes his way back into the hut, grabbing a log to throw into the hearth as he makes his way over to the francian.

"good morning." he calls out in a sing-song voice, laying down beside loras and wrapping a strong arm around him, taking blankets and all into his embrace and pressing a lazy kiss against the top of his head. "you're laying here as if we're in the midst of fimbulwinter at the end of times. you cannot be that cold."

@goldenngore said: don't play innocent with me. { x }

He let out a huff as he fixed the other with an unimpressed look. Philippe had been coy up til this, and tried to beat around the bush because he knew the reality of the situation was not going to be pleasant. "Would you rather the brutal truth? Something tells me you wont be able to handle it. And that will fall on me."

He   was   not   what   he   used   to   be.   Loosing   a   limb   is   harder   than   people   would   recognize   but   Jaime   kept   a   brave   face   and   focused   on   training   his   other   side.   A   long   time   ago,   he   used   to   train   both   sides,   trying   to   be   like   the   likes   of   Arthur   Dayne   and   become   a   better   swordsman   than   the   other   Kingsguard.   Now,   it   was   a   neccesity   if   he   wanted   to   remain   and   to   his   benefit,   he   was   learning   to   use   both   sides,   but   the   weight   of   the   hand   is   still   strange.

  Gold   weights   on   his   arm   and   pull   him   down   and   his   stance   has   to   be   reajusted   and   sometimes,   the   often   graceful   man   looses   his   footing.   He   doesn't   expect   (or   let)   anyone   help   him   regardless,   which   is   why   he   is   surprised   the   other   is   there.   Loras   Tyrell   is   beside   him,   helping   him   stand   properly.   Emerald   eyes   search   for   some   ill   meaning   or   perhaps,   mockery   in   the   other's   eyes   but   Jaime   sees   none,   at   least   for   now.  

"Thank   you.   I   never   truly   appreciated   gold   until   it   weight   on   my   hand   constantly.   Makes   you   wonder   if   wood   would   be   better."   The   glistening   sun   reflects   on   the   hand   itself   and   Jaime   finds   himself   staring   at   it   again.   He   wonders   if   the   other   sees   what   he   sees,   if   he   closes   his   eyes,   he   could   see   his   fingers   moving   again.   But   instead   he   looks   at   Loras   and   sees   the   guard   he   once   was.

@goldenngore asked: [ stumble ]  –  for the sender’s muse to catch and help the receiver’s muse keep balance. the intimacy of hands .

sb: so are you the big spoon or the little spoon?

Loras: I’m a knife !! 😠😠

Maron, off camera: he’s the little spoon . . .

send a 📔 for an entry from my muse’s diary about your muse

goldenngore asked: 📔

As you know, I don't like being at the mercy of god and the mercy of others. Why I happened to fall in love again I can not say, it's atrocious. I didn't want that, I had no desire to even face someone again fully with my walls knocked down. I continue to refrain myself from jumping into the desire to be with him again. As I know that I will do nothing but reopen old wounds. I will watch as he bleeds and become very aware that it's my fault. I don't want to be reminded that some things could be, in fact, my fault. How hilarious to think that I'm so determined to be proven wrong, even by myself.

How much a manipulation of the truth do I have to bend in order for the to be an out right lie? I had to stop myself from saying anything unkind even now, I do not wish to commit it on paper. Some things are much better to keep in my mind, not even said through my mouth, as dry as it is. I would like to think I can continue on with the manipulated truth on how I am feeling, talk myself out of it. That foes for anything in my life, as long as it continues the more I will never rely on myself as a last resort.

One night we were laying side by side, I opened my eyes due to not being able to sleep and as a human, he had to. During the night and when humans are sleeping, I am awake. I am always going to be awake when the night falls. I know nothing but darkness. I recall sitting there during the storm, listening to the patter of the rain against the roof. It was calming, that specific night. I couldn't pretend to sleep but I watched him as he slept. I watched how he had to breathe, how he had to dream. I grew envious, I wandered what it was that I could do to dream again and not be so threatened with nightmares. Before I even meant to do it, I crawled into bed with him and began to talk to him as if he were awake. I remember speaking about how much I missed my home town and I called him my old love. I renamed him as if he were someone else.

I do not know why I did that . . . . but even years later I regret it.

I do not usually make the mistake of calling another lover someone else. But I did so purposely then; "Louis, mon cher. " I said in the darkness, touching the man's face. It was not Louis, but someone else. "I will make a better home for us in Louisiana. One day we will have it all again, you will see." and for a moment, I believed it was him. Then I blinked, Loras' sighed and I realized that I had not been in the other's presence for such a long time. For a moment I hadn't a clue where I was or who this was until he leaned into me. I felt the guilt wash over me, I wish I would have just faked slept as I usually do. I casually apologize out of blue toward him now. He stares at me in such confusion but how can I explain to him I wish he were someone else.

Loras: I hate guys who think something's gonna happen on the first date. Maron, putting the pineapple juice down: Right? Me too.

help @goldenngore is harassing me with his STUPID PRETTY FACE

put fingers in my muse's mouth | accepting

【@goldenngore sent a raven】: 👅 ( and you can reverse if you want, dealers choice. 😘)

"oh don't give me that look, these letters are not going to answer themselves you know .. no matter how much i wish they could." renly muttered without even taking his eyes off of his task to look up at the boy— how very rude indeed, but he didn't have to. he could quite literally smell loras' irritation, and he knew his boy was staring at him with absolute indignation. a look he often found rather charming && even amusing, much to the other's chagrin.

what he failed to take into account, however, was his charming squire's astounding BOLDNESS ; this time having shown itself in the form of a dainty index slipping past his parted lips right when he was about to scold him some more for being too insistent.

now that seemed to get his attention .. cerulean eyes finally lifted from the pile of papers to stare up at the boy's face, comically wide && glinting bright in the candlelight. loras seemed .. quite pleased with himself, really. classic .. perhaps then the elder could reciprocate by being just as unpredictable. the scandalized look slowly melted into something a lot more .. docile, a look that didn't quite belong to renly's usually self-assured && mischievous features. letting out a very low hum, he suckled on the finger, long and hard ..

and then he bit on it.

“i don’t like that look, what happened?”

More random dialogue prompts / Accepting

If the anger wasn't already obivous to the Tyrell because of his expression perhaps the fact that the letter ( which he had received not long ago ) was being crushed between the fingers of his right hand was a good enough sign of it. His instructions had been very clear: only hold Riverrun. However, now he realized how right people were when they said that if you wanted something done well, you had to do it yourself. How could he do something so stupid? What was the use of fighting that battle?

❝ My uncle Edmure has decided to fight a Lannister host which was attacking a small town of the Riverlands ❞ Robb began to explain ❝ Tywin Lannister was not there. Like neither was the Mountain or any other important figures of their side ❞ making it absolutely unnecesary even if he hand't had the plan to let the Lannisters do as they please so Tywin would chase him into the Westerlands and he could kill defeat him when he got trapped between the army he had under his command and the one he had left with him.

❝ And he still dares to call it a ❛victory to be proud of❜ even when he has lost two hundred and eight men ❞ that was what upset him the most. For every man we lost, our enemies lost...how many? He couldn't remember at the moment. Though the Tully's justification was still something he wouldn't accept. Even if their numbers had increased because of the alliance they had formed, they had to keep a cool head and be smart about how they used them. Every life mattered in a war.

@goldenngore said: think you're pretty funny, don't you? { x }

Philippe looked at him with a bit of a loopy grin, despite actually being completely sober at the moment, even if he was pouring a glass of wine for himself and the other, because he clearly found himself hilarious, "Oh we both know I am the peak of comedy, Loras."

❝ Did you see ? Ser Loras, did you see me ? ❞ The little king has grown, a tad taller and slimmer than he was when they met, but his adoration of the Knight of Flowers has not dimmed --- Of course, the moment he first managed to unhorse a man ( or a boy, really, only his cousin Loreon ), the first thing Tommen would do would be to run to Loras.

♚ ∴ ❝ @goldenngore liked for a starter  !

Olenna: The thought that one day he may see his grandson with his arse on the Iron Throne makes Mace puff up like ... now, what do you call it? Margaery, you're clever, be a dear and tell your poor old half-daft grandmother the name of that queer fish from the Summer Isles that puffs up to ten times its own size when you poke it.

Margaery: They-

Garlan: Loras. It's called Loras.

Maron: I’m 100% straight

@goldenngore *exists*

Maron:

Maron: I’m 99% straight