Myrcella knows what is said of her rule behind her back, that she presides over a court of bastards and women. Who better to rule a realm of bastards and women?

Somewhere far away, far from the home she once knew – the home she can no longer remember, or she can but she does not wish too – there is a girl who does not remember her name, nor anything of the life she came from. Until the night she dreams of wolves.

In her dreams Sansa Stark wanders the ruins of Winterfell, wearing a crown and paced by a pack of wolves.

Val didn't save Jon Snow - that was his direwolf and the red woman - but she did steal him.

Lyanna Stark departed this life leaving her brother with only secrets, regrets, and her newly born daughter.

When Dorne became one of the Seven Kingdoms, they agreed to replace the Westeros Law of Inheritance with the Dornish Law, so that the same laws would be followed throughout the realm. Or, Five times there was no male primogeniture in Westeros, and this wasn't as helpful as you might expect.

Brienne nearly starts a brawl at Sansa Stark's wedding when she elbows Littlefinger in the face and bloodies his nose.

The king is dead, but a cousin cannot inherit before a brother, or before a sister.

Oberyn Martell, father of daughters.

Cat told herself that it wasn't improper. They would be family when she wed Brandon, and kissing games between ladies were not unheard of. As though anything involving Lyanna Stark could be proper. The wolf girl rode like a man and carried a dagger on her hip that would have been a sword had her father allowed it; she cloaked herself in impropriety.

"You could always stay." "And what should I do at the Wall, Sam, style myself as the Night's Queen? Or Lady Commander of the Night's Watch?" "Well, we do let girls in nowadays."

I didn't realise that it was the Silver Queen's heart you were trying to get inside.

Myrcella Hill is her mother's daughter, more or less.

Sometimes Bitty sleeps in Jack's bed. It's not a thing, until it is.

Tony Stark is a Seer, someone vulnerable to phantasms, malevolent spirits of the dead. He's meant to have a bonded Fighter, someone who can defend him -- or attack on his command. So far he's had no luck finding a bond, but that's about to change...

Dorian is quite magnanimous in victory, and perfectly willing to reward Bull for being so gracious in defeat.

Clint's a little older than he looks, and his DNA has a few surprises in store, too.

Explosions, broken toes, and blood transfusions, or, the long and mostly-incompetent courtship of Cougar by Jensen.

A one-shot collection for my aged-up Killugon fics from now on!

Catboy Killua is a pain in his own ass.

A run-in with one of the most ridiculous nen powers ever leaves Gon a little more canine than usual.

Gon's unnatural concentration rears its head in unexpected places.

Killua's overconfidence plus anonymous liquid substances ends in poor decisions and absurd circumstances.

In the aftermath of the assault on Starkiller base, Finn struggles with his recovery, and Poe struggles with his feelings.

“I need you to show me how to put on make-up,” he goes, all at once, and she blinks at the seahorse patterned shower curtain. There’s no way she heard that right. She finishes buttoning up her shirt and steps out of the shower carefully, wet feet sliding a little on the tile. “Make-up,” she repeats, looking at him as she winds an elastic band around her hair. “Yeah,” he murmurs, embarrassment burning in his eyes. “She uh, wants me to go as Belle.”

"Are you sure this is okay with you," she whispers quietly, peering down at Jason.

A SHIELD agent named Roger Stevens told Tony that his nickname was "Cap". Tony didn't connect the dots until it was much, much too late.

A group of qunari seek refuge at Skyhold, and Dorian's life gets wildly out of hand.

And Dorian – who hasn’t maliciously thought of Bull as a beast in years, who hasn’t said the words even jokingly in months – still finds himself struck with what he was taught about the Qunari, what he still thinks when a new Vashoth joins the Inquisition. And now, every time the child opens his wide dark eyes and blinks lazily up at Dorian, every time he seems surprised by his own hands waving in front of his face, every time he laughs and squawks and hiccups after he’s done crying… Dorian thinks he can do better, for this child. He will. He rocks the child in his arms late at night and whispers against the tight curls springing out of the sweet crown of his head, coaxes him to sleep for papa, darling, that’s a good boy.

A letter from Dorian's father sends him into a rage that only the Iron Bull can calm.

All of Vyrantium's noble elite were invited to Magister Maecenas' dinner party to view her prize collection of Qunari antiquities and make polite conversation. Dorian Pavus had resigned himself to a long and boring evening, but a few wrong turns was all it took to change that.

You really can buy anything on the internet.

An alternate take on leupagus's Space Princess Poe.

"I get it, you want to—" "Ride the Bull, yes." She's a whisper of ruffles and fine silk passing him before he even knows it, leaving him leaning stupidly in her doorway. "Or rather, no. I am occupied for the remainder of the day with treatise work, Iron Bull. You will have to try again some other time. Please locate your pants and leave before the marquis arrives, which will be shortly." Bull isn't exactly courting material, but Josephine isn't always particularly courtly. Work Text:

The Antivan language and sex on the war table: just two of Bull's varied interests.

Bull read the letter, his face growing more grave by the line. "Cooper is coming," he said finally. "They've probably sent him to finish me off."

Josephine is not a flirt, really.

Jensen's got love letters to Cougar in his bag but knows he'll never let anyone else see them. It's not that he wants to keep it a secret, he just knows that it might be best that way what with DADT, Cougar's Catholic values and the risk of getting a bullet between his eyes. Writing letters in secret is one of the few outlets Jensen has. But it's really just a matter of time before the truth comes out...

Loki falls from the Bifrost, and lands in Lilo's garden. Chaos ensues.

He hears: “turn here” and “listen carefully” and Poe nearly trips as a Stormtrooper says the words that wrap around Poe’s right thigh.

“There just - there weren’t a lot of prospects in the desert!” Rey folds her arms, furious.

someone said "touch-starved Finn" and the next thing I know I'm writing a tragic backstory and sickeningly cute OT3 cuddles - “Pick yourself up, FN-2187,” they’d tell him. And then they’d hit him again.

There are times when, for the greater good, one might choose to lose a bet. This is one of those times.

Rey is different from Finn; all sharp angles with kinetic energy beneath pale skin, eyes wide enough to take in the sky. A completely different kind of beauty from Finn, but beautiful all the same. Oh no, thinks Poe Dameron, with a sinking realisation.

“An exciting change for the greatest pilot in the Resistance,” the General tells him, “I would hope that we have a more successful trip than last time.” “I would argue that my last mission was very successful, ma’am.” In more ways than she knows. It’s early enough that Finn is still pretending to be asleep, and Rey is curled next to him, a tiny lump in the pile of blankets. (a sequel to room of heartbeats)

The idea brings its own problems, of course. Rey was a one for so long that it’s been hard to get used to being a two with Finn, but at least for that she has seen models that she could learn from, even living and scavenging in the wastes of Jakku. There were some raggedy families headed up by parents; one or two young couples who shared their food and took turns sheltering each other from the sun. She has no frame of reference for this, for threeness, but she knows she wants it. Never mind that she’s never seen it done before. She’ll have to make it up as she goes; at least she’s good at that. There’s the family you’re born into, and then there’s the one you make for yourself.

“Shut up and hand me that tiara,” she snarls at him, flapping her hand at the dresser where it's perched jauntily on top of his blast helmet.

Rey steals Finn’s clothes. So in some way she’s stealing his clothes.

Dorian is feeling frisky in the crowded Herald's Rest.

Finn is somewhat underprepared. Poe is only trying to help.