#Gregor looks so baby

[simgerale]

EXPECTATIONS

"Really, what is it about spring?"

beginning | recent

[inkivaarinensart]

Some clone sketches! 

Tag yourself, I’m feeling a lot like Wolffe right now.

[askatriangleandastar]

What're your thoughts on the new Spooky Month episode?

(Doodle to match your icon, also because this one has me by the NECK) Thoughts in particular for as much as I can below

OOOOOOOOUGGHH DETER AND HIS MOM. FUCK, THE H U G S BIT HURTS MY HEART EVERY TIME IT IS VISCERALLY EFFECTIVE PELO YOU MONSTER ❤️

Moloch is so threatening I GASPED as we finally got to see him achieve Leg Rights and dud he ever put them to WORK running like that all over town!!

Gregor was incredible and competent and despite being opposing to the norm of how the kids go about things, a net positive for the town. His entrapment/death/conversion to what the cult put him through in the ending is an endangerment to the safety of everyone. That he really did care and want to protect the kids was sweet, and while harsh his reality check to Lila was something she's had coming.

I WAS RIGHT ABOUT SO MANY THINGS GOING INTO THIS I WAS SO EXCITED!!!!! Not beating the witch allegations in the slightest and still with so many questions and wonder.

I love how much we learn and yet how much there is to learn. Connections that are only half-given and have to be speculated and discovered with the ARG and background inferences. I still need to go over the frames and take in all the background characters. I don't know how far into November this is set but it's not long enough for Lila.

Getting the feeling that the Theives Duo were hired to go through the house yet settle on the attic, to nab THE DAD'S STUFF given its all strewn about the house after they get whooped, and then the New Grounds Ending confirms it had me shaking. Had me wondering if that's what BOB was sent to do initially in the very first epsiode, but when Lila ran into him he was gonna get a snack. That the cult members backed off at mentioning the spider and the Candy Dealer notes them as having been lucky + the picture revealled of it having been the Dad's (plus Pelo mentioning it has eaten people before) is making thoughts mimic a windows 98 trying to run the Sims.

The Gregor and Moloch ship those working on the show go for and snuck reference to in the show. The "and they've never been married but they are SO divorced" vibes of their interaction here, how Moloch called him by name and would have only ever lied in the past due to Gregor not having Moloch's in kind [the devil a deciever to any word said] hooooo I don't go there but it's next door and it looks fun!

The foreshadowing with the drawings done with Dexter and it's accuracy + Pelo drawing Moloch possessing a lot of characters + also doing so with Eyes + the Other Drawing = F E A R AND EXCITEMENT!!!!!!!

THE EYES IN THE BUCKET STILL LOOK LIKE DEXTER'S AND ARE ACTIVELY MOVING (especially in the Ending Spider Scene) HE IS STILL THERE AND TRAPPED AND AAAAAAAAAA!AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

The Ooga Booga Jumpscare was fascinating and done super duper well!!!! Wanna make a whole breakdown about why and how it worked better than any other so far. There are some layers and misdirection and it's built up really well! Plus what looks like a version of her on Jaune's TV foreshadowing what's gonna happen like it did before with Bob.

It makes me wonder if there's more parallels to Moloch based in the line "I can be ANYWHERE now!" After scaring the Audience. I have a theory that a part of his possession tactic is Fear. To enter someone's body who isn't willing they need to fear him and he can only get one such victim at a time (hence why only Roy and not the whole Hatzgang at once vs Skid and Pump at the same time with no difficulty as they let him in). It's why he Stalks and Stares (Patty, Ignacio) and consistently when we get to be around for when he goes for it, he *roars*. Not bite and claw but roars. He's put off and doesn't enter those that have no fear of him (Gregor, Rick, Ignacio) and I think it's because he CAN'T. It's why even when at his weakest he roared at Gregor. To break the chant, the concentration, to make the wounded and bleeding enemy falter and fear and let him in with that response of weakness. It fails, of course, but hoooo with anyone less devoted I don't think it would have.

BRICK TO THE HEAD. THE COWARDS. THEY GOTTA AMBUSH THIS OLD GUY EVEN WHEN HE'S ALREADY LIMPING TO STAND A CHANCE THATS HILARIOUS.

The way Pump was distracted from opening up and being vulnerable with his sister and kept happy by the toy and the lie, while Skid has no such escape as his own heart to heart is burdened further by the sobs of his mom in a home that is no longer in any illusion safe with a shattered door and evidence of earlier break-in everywhere. These 2 have been diverging in small ways in their outlook on things for awhile now, but this episode's ending and scenes about parents, about knowing more and less than each other (The way Skid didn't know about Moloch not running but Pump did and how Skid started to ask what he meant, how Skid still associates all Happy Fellas as Stabby while Pump could see it was Dexter-specific because he could **see** through to what Dexter WAS according to the notes... if Gregor hadn't interrupted there may have been Words. Going forward, it feels like they're going to again.)

IGNACIO AND THE ILLEGAL GUN OF COMEDIC CONTRAST

I cannot stress enough how much Kevin feels like he's being pushed further and further towards a total breakdown and that he NEEDS a coworker to help like Radford [AAAAAAAAAAA THEATRE MAN RETURNS I WAS SO EXCITED TO SEE HIM HE PLAYS OFF KEVIN SO SO WELL AAAAA] It's not an if so much as a When with the way his vision is Scribblifying so much (a treat for the eyes tho) and while he CAN cool off if nothing goes immediately wrong its just gonna keep going wrong.

Roy is having problems and given his parents and vibe of his family plus his contact to Skid and Pump, guessing it's likely tied to how it's status quo isn't sitting well and the need for escape with friends. Parents who are present yet Not in how it matters and how they're needed by the child. So glad he's willing to open up at all (the contrast from the second episode is staggering) but like Kevin it feels like he's building up to a bigger breakdown.

It is for Susie's safety and well being that she never met Moloch and yet she might well have been a huge fan given her enjoyment of demons! Have to wonder how she'd react to seeing the ashen form of Moloch in the attic if she ever went digging for what's been going on herself.

Ignacio may be any number of things and the picture with the dad is making me run in circles around the room I am seething with th3 need to shake him even though he'd shoot me point blank. Speaking of, the fact that he was carrying it on his person with taking out the trash and how he used it genuinely made me think that if Skid and Pump bothered him one more time he was going to pop 'em where they stood the same way he was so unbothered and at the ready I was wheezing XD

Why does the portrait have a diamond why does it have only ONE diamond why is it like that despite looking like it's the one for the old mansion we glimpsed in the second epsiode what the hell is with the mannequin and SHY DOES IT HAVE A FACE IN THE HELL CREDITS CARD

The oath Gregor uses portraying a Lord yet not a Father yet maintaining The Son, as well as a Sacred Sky, has me going no-clip on my chair. I am Not Normal about this and I cannot pretend to be I need the implications of this world's religions being impacted with Eyes having been ever-present STAT and the horror of the cult not being to a different God but the same as Gregor's, simply met by a bridge of heresy to meet mortals with the divine while still of flesh and bone and claim of Death....

I thought Evermore was bribing the hobos to blow up the church but now... now it feels more likely to be either Bob's place (seeing his corpse wheeled in the soundtrack video + that Patty was about to cut into him again when the kids interrupted+ Evermore asking for a specific body to be moved) OR the Mansion (not being invited into any cult and wanting John to shut up about it so he gets an unofficial, literal backalley deal going for some nobodies with no credibility to do the work for him). Evermore is the kind of vain who'd spill that he was in an exclusive group to brag and is also wonderfully insufferable with his blatant ego; the idea that he ISN'T part of the cult and his not knowing and terrible mayor strats only benifit the cult so they don't bother with the risk of somone in power knowing about them and his denial that somone as important as him would EVER be excluded if there WAS one which must mean there ISN'T just has such a good punchline and I hope it's true I really do.

THEY SHARE A VA, IS THE MASCOT GUY THE SAME CHARACTER AS THE BOB COSPLAYER CAUSE HIS BAD LUCK AND MISFORTUNE FEEL SIMILAR! Also the happy fella furthest left moves its eyes after the kids so uh. So uh they might've been on the money to destroy them cause looks like one is already possessed by Something and it also gives greater legitimacy to the internment of the one in The Candy Tube of Shame at Kevin's workplace gosh they're STILL BEING SOLD if they become A Problem beyond Dexter and that's when we get to meet Robert's little sister who has one....

The way Pelo has explained how Moloch got stuck and how the possession works means we KNOW Patty was tethered to her body and unable to do anything except watch as Moloch used her to kill (any by the mess and lack of remains) eat Michelle (mom's name in description cast list) to regain some power and begin to sate the prolonged hunger Moloch has been trapped in. It's how he was able to perfectly mimic her and Dexter. It's why her lower half is coated with so much blood it may as well be dyed the color. It's no wonder she's adamant to have a gun! Glad to see evidence of her still actively working with John and Jack on the mystery in the ARG images too.

That doctor, Mort, I don't know who he was talking with but while he's sus as hell I'm not so sure he was taking the call we see Ignacio make. There isn't a reason to be informing him about the priest, even if bother WERE in the cult- going straight to the mourge and opening with asking if the body had been moved feels like it was a micromanage from Evermore to be sure that what he asked for is happening in a timely way. Have to wonder if he's going to take Patty's place now with having a distinct full name and reoccurance in the episode as he does for 3 scenes.

Gosh I love the soundtrack I've been looping the playlist for it while writing all this, again, not well, so so many thoughts. This isn't even all of them but it's past 1 am I have been typing for over an hour gonna pause it at the realization that something DID curse the Candy Corner for the holy water to have worked as well as the fact that the red head kid, Lucky was super cursed for what we now know as LEGIT HOLY WATER to have had such an effect on him. It wasn't boiled it was in that pot to get as many of the kids crowding as possible, as we see the bottles only effectively splash a single person. A friend mentioned Gregor may not even directly see Lucky given the behavior towards the child is abnormal and as we see here he IS normal towards children, even with costumes he sees as mockery of the lord, so ignoring him crumpled on the ground and the siezing on the doorstep are strange outliers. ALSO LEARING ABoUT GREGOR'S FULL NAME AND THE MEANING AND THE RELEVANCE OF THE ANGEL WINGS IN THE CREDITS AAAAAAAAAAAA!! So much thought and care went into this, I love this series so much, thank you for asking my thoughts on it! ^^))

[trennoandgreggo]

I just started crying

[ell-does-stuff]

MAKING A BIG OL POST OF EVERYTHING I GOTTA SAY ABOUT THE NEW SPOOKY MONTH BECAUSE HOLY SHITTTT THERES A LOT

‼️‼️SPOILERS OBVIOUSLY‼️‼️

THE THIEVES ARE BACK WOOOOOOOO!! IVE MISSED THEM SM

also eepy lila

while gathering images for this ive noticed that the "pile of dexter" as im calling it is staring at the thieves the whole time they're in the attic (specifically fat thief)

is he somehow still alive???? just possessing a pile of dead doll????????

so cool to see the big ass spider get some actual relevance!! def gonna be important next episode for sure

ROSS'S DAD!!!!!!!!

also jaune is so pretty with her hair down like omggg... love to see her being such a supportive friend to lila as well

"are you throwing away dad's stuff mom?" WAAAAAA MY POOR BABYYY IM GONNA CRYYY

HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN HI KEVIN

theyre so me

DEXTERRRRJRJRJRHSHSHDBBDBSB!!+!!!!!(!!

"this cat looks sick im taking it to the vet" BULLSHIT i know what you are. 👁️👁️

DEXTER'S MOM!?!?????!?!?!?!?!!!??? i had no idea she would ever show up like wow i did not expect to see her at all

poor little babies and their lack of parents

ok sorry ik im joking here but MAN this scene made me feel bad 😭😭😭

THE FUCK.

pretty sure this dude is the same guy as the "costume bob" in the last episode??? i felt bad for him last time but here he seems like kind of a pathetic and weird ass man ngl lol

RADFORRRRRRDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!(!!(;+;!;(;;(;??;(;;!!(+!!++!(++!

HES SUCH A GOD DAMN SILLY NERD MAN LIKEEEEE "he even sounds like he does in the movies!!!!!!" BROOOO I LOVE HIMMMMMMMMMM DJJDGWHDHSHFH

he is EXACTLY how i pictured he would be!! my brain is not gonna shut up about him for the next few days i just know it HAHAHAH

also my caramelpopcorn (thats their ship name right?? or was it candycorn??? i forgor lol) heart is completely full, i loved actually seeing him and kevin canonically interact, they are perfect <3

HES IN THE CANDY CLUB OUTFIRTBD RJSHNF EBDJFBSBDJC EJDUFBEBW DKXN SCUEBFNFBRJSJCJCHDB!!!!(!!!!!;+;(;!!(+!!

"im... uh... like an uncle!!" "i just wanna help the children..." BROO??? feeling kinda bad for frank rn, these are like the only kids he genuinely cares about and hes being turned away from em

ik hes a shady guy but STILL

GREGOR LOOKS SO GOOFY DOING THE DANCE JDBDHSHFHD LIKE WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE THATTTTT

also i made this gif myself yall better like it

aaaaaaaaaand dexter's mom is dead.

like son like mother i guess 💀

love how ignacio's door has small little boards on it from when they bashed it with a hammer HAHAHHA

also, looking at the inside of ignacio's house, is that john's family on the little table there???

one of the images in the arg gives a better look at this, but i had no idea it was in IGNACIO'S HOUSE of all places. why does he have that??? and right by the gun too.... what is this silly cult man planning......

(the arg image in question if yall were wondering)

"we understand you" "we're here for you dude" "thank you guys, i just wish things weren't so..." HATZGANG FRIENDSHIP WAAAAA!!!!!

also ROY HAS BEEN THROUGH SHIT MY POOR GUYYYY i wanna hug him mannnn 🥺

IMAGE LIMIT IS KILLING ME SO IM GONNA REBLOG THIS WITH MORE SHIT TO SAY BECAUSE I AM NOT DONE MANNN‼️‼️‼️‼️

[ottosuricatoblog]

"Nightmare."

Author: hola! I'm starting a new chapter of my life and it's going to keep me a bit busier, but I'll try to keep posting as much as I can. I decided to mix up this 2 requests since I thought they went well together. I really like how this turned out, and I hope you like it too!

Request: Hi! I loved your fics! I looked at the prompt list and honestly so many of them would go perfectly with Sandor. How about 7? The reader soothing Sandor after a nightmare and then continuing with smutt.. That would be quite hot.

Request: Hi! Could I request something with 14 and 19? With Sandor and y/n already married if possible, something fluffy and sweet🥰 There was also one prompt about hand kisses but I forgot which number, so if you could add something about that too that would be lovely!!

Prompts:

7. [character] wakes up breathing heavily from a nightmare, and you soothe them by bringing them to your chest, and whispering sweet things to their ear while your hand caresses their hair.

14. tracing [character]'s features while they sleep, and vice versa.

19. “gods, your lips are so sweet. Please kiss me again?”

80. [character] giving you knuckle, hand, and palm kissing.

WARNINGS: language, night terrors, smut, oral sex (him receiving)

Sandor has always had trouble sleeping, especially since the fire incident. He never slept for longer than 3 or 4 hours. He was more than used to it by now, and now you were too. You are what is called a sleepy head. You used to have trouble sleeping as well, but sleeping next to Sandor changed everything. Now, you could sleep for hours and hours as long as he's with you, holding you somehow. It's one of the many perks of having him as a husband.

Tonight, after a passionate session, you were lying on him, both of you naked. You always drifted off right after sex, and tonight was no different. He loved those moments, just holding you while you were in your most vulnerable.

You turn in your sleep, laying your head on the pillow instead. He then turns into his side, holding his head up with his left arm. He stares at your profile, wondering how he got so lucky. He raises his arm, using his index finger to trace your features. He starts at your forehead, continuing along your nose and down to your lips. Gods, those lips.

He repeats his actions a few times until you shift, turning again to bury your head in his chest. He hugs you into him, kissing your head.

"Goodnight, Y/N." He mumbles into your hair, nodding off soon after that.

You wake up to Sandor shaking and whining beside you. You turn to look at him. He's extremely sweaty, and his face cringes in pain.

"Gregor! No!" He whimpers.

You sit next to him, taking his head between your hands.

"Sandor!" You say, holding his head. "Baby, it's just a dream."

He whimpers again. Noticing what you're doing isn't enough, you move your hands to his shoulders, shaking quickly.

Sandor wakes up abruptly, his defensive instincts on. You take your hands off his shoulders, raising them before you in a redemptive way.

"It's me." You say softly. "You're okay. It was just a nightmare."

His gaze softens when he meets your eyes, his breathing getting back to normal.

"It's okay." You say, bringing his head to your chest and stroking his hair. "You're okay. I'm here."

"I'm sorry." He mumbles.

"Don't be." You whisper. "We don't need to talk about it."

He nods, silently thanking you. He moves a bit, so his head is resting on your lap while you continue stroking his hair.

He takes your hand in his and brings it to his face, giving you knuckle, hand, and palm kisses.

After a few minutes, his breathing is completely back to normal.

"Better?" You ask in a soothing voice.

"Yes." He mumbles, kissing your hand on more time before sitting up.

He moves to sit next to you, and you caress his face, turning to kiss him softly. He hums, kissing you back.

When the kiss breaks, you hear him mumble against your lips. "Gods, your lips are so sweet." He moves his hands to your waist and shifts you so you're straddling his lap. "Please kiss me again?"

You smile, understanding what he wants. Your husband is a dominant man. It's pretty obvious to everyone. Normally, Sandor is also dominant when you two are intimate, and you do love it when he is. Some nights, though, he just needs to feel loved, for which he likes to give up control. Tonight is one of those nights.

Leaning in to kiss him passionately, you move your hands to the nape of his neck. You slightly scrape the skin there as you know he loves, and you feel his groan inside of your mouth.

You kiss all over his face, especially over his burnt-out side. When you reach his earlobe, you gently bite it, whispering. "I'm going to take care of you."

He hums, moving his hands from your hips to your backside.

"Hands off." You say, running your tongue over his bottom lip. "I'm doing all the touching tonight."

The smirk on his face tells you he's enjoying this as much as you are, and he takes his hands off your butt to position them on the bed.

You kiss him again, harder than before. You feel his half hard cock twitch between your bodies. After years together, you know exactly what gets him going.

You kiss his lips one last time before moving to his neck. You know he likes it a bit rough, so you bite all over his skin, sucking afterward.

You hear him groan. He loves to mark you, and he secretly loves to be marked as well. It tells the world he's yours.

"You're so hot." You say, kissing your way down to his groin. You hear him moan.

You avoid touching his now aching hard cock, kissing his belly instead. Your hands move his thighs, softly scratching the hair there.

"Fucking Gods Y/N." He whines. "Do something."

This is teasing you as much as him, and you know this is going to come back to you as payback sooner than later, but you enjoy the sounds he makes when you tease him too much.

"I'm doing something..." You say against his skin, smirking. "What do you want?"

He groans desperately, realizing he's going to have to say it. "Please, dear wife." He says, and you look up with a smug smile. "Take me into that pretty mouth."

Your smile grows wider victoriously. You sit comfortably between his legs, and you grab his cock and suck his head slowly. He lets out a moan he reserves for these nights, when your teasing frustrates him.

"See." You say, stroking his cock slowly. "You just had to ask."

You don't give him time to answer as you take him into your mouth again, sucking with gusto. His groans are music to your ears.

"Oh fuck, love." He moans. "Suck that cock."

You bob your head repeatedly, taking as much as you can of his cock. You see his hand moving to your head, but he remembers your command and places it in back on the bed, clenching his fist around the bed sheets. You reward him by moving your hand to stroke the part you're not sucking.

You keep sucking vigorously, enjoying his pleasure as if it was your own.

"You're so fucking good at this." He groans. "So fucking good."

His praising makes you smile, and you take a second to take a breath and look up at him. His lustful eyes meet yours.

"Do you want me to stay here?" You say, pecking his head, to which he trembles slightly. "Or do you want me to ride you?"

If you were wet from the teasing, sucking his cock has made you literally dripping.

He licks his lips, exhaling heavily. "Ride me." His voice is darker than usual. "But first I need a kiss."

You smile but move up, straddling his waist again and leaning in to meet his lips. You hum against his mouth as he deliciously sucks your tongue.

"You ready?" He asks, and it almost offends you that he doesn't know how wet sucking him off makes you.

You take his hand, leading it to your pussy.

He moans at the touch. "Fuck, baby. You're soaking."

You kiss him again. "You can touch me now." You say, biting his bottom lip.

He hums, moving his hands to their spot on your hips as you move up, taking his cock in your hand and positioning it at your entrance.

You both let out a moan as you sink into him.

"You feel so good." You moan.

"Ride that cock, darling." He grunts.

You start to move, your hips doing circular motions as they move up and down, which you know he loves. His moans are guttural, needy. Yours are starting to turn into whimpers.

He sits up, kissing you desperately. The new position changes the angle slightly, hitting all the right spots inside you. He moves his thumb to stroke your clit.

"Sandor." You moan against his mouth. "Just like that."

"Gods." He groans. "I'm..."

You already know he's close by the way he's clenching his jaw, so you speed up, humping him.

"Come for me." You moan. "Come in me."

He lets out a loud groan as he starts to come, which triggers your own orgasm. You keep moving to prolong your pleasure. Once you're done, you lay on his chest, exhausted.

His breathing is still getting back to normal when you feel him caressing your back.

"I love you." He says, kissing your hair.

You're almost asleep when he hears you mumble an "I love you too."

Taglist: @broadsdrinkwhisky @malkaviangirl if you want to be in, let me know🩷

[melrosing]

JAIME IN THE RIVERLANDS II: Bluffs, Bargaining and Baby Trebuchets - Why Jaime Can’t Win at Riverrun

[lol sorry i've not updated this since Dec 2022 but i feel kind of compelled to finish it and this part was actually mostly done in back in Jan last year. I just got distracted. anyway part one here]

Following ASOS where Jaime’s character development came thick and fast, Jaime of AFFC is stalling by comparison, looking for an outlet and lacking one. He hopes to improve the Kingsguard as its new Commander but it’s in a poor state, saddled with men like Boros Blount and Osmund Kettleblack who are sworn to serve it for life. Meanwhile, his every move is undermined by Cersei’s erratic rule as regent, or the strange counsel she has built around her. He is beside his son, but Tommen can’t know it, and his daily duties involve tedium more often than not. Jaime’s scope has been drastically reduced: there are no bears, there is only Pycelle, and meanwhile his relationship with Cersei is undergoing seismic change that leaves him emotionally adrift. 

Jaime is also growing increasingly conscious of the risk that Tywin’s death poses to his family: joining the funeral procession for his father’s return to the Rock, ‘dead’ rings in his ears as he attempts reconciliation between Kevan and Cersei (JAIME II, AFFC) - Tywin is truly gone, and nothing stands in his place. Indeed, whilst we see throughout ASOS and AFFC that Tywin had the respect of his siblings, Jaime and Cersei are viewed by Genna and Kevan as little more than squabbling children far out of their depth. Kevan even regards the twins as a direct threat to he and his family’s security and goes so far to say as much, rending the family deeper. Worse still, Jaime is unsure whether or not Cersei does represent a true threat to their uncle, leaving him to play the game half blind:

Ser Kevan was a Lannister of Casterly Rock. He could not believe that she would ever do him harm, but… I was wrong about Tyrion, why not about Cersei? When sons were killing fathers, what was there to stop a niece from ordering an uncle slain? [JAIME II, AFFC]

It’s clear at this point to both Jaime and the reader that House Lannister is beginning to cannibalise itself, with each link representing a threat to the other: even Genna and Kevan compete for safer seats for their families, with Kevan leaving the poisoned chalice of Riverrun for his sister and her children. Meanwhile, Cersei’s growing paranoia and ineptitude as queen is setting off alarm bells: “The crows will feast upon us all if you go on this way, sweet sister” (JAIME II, AFFC). House Lannister’s vulnerability is hugely apparent, and now, far from Tywin’s vision of a single unanimous collective, each branch of the family pulls in its own direction. So we see that part of Jaime’s role at this point in the story is to somehow reunite his family with the singular object of their security: the trouble is that the security of House Lannister runs directly counter to the security of all others.

It is here that Cersei sends Jaime into the Riverlands against his will, to finish their father’s work in quashing House Stark and House Tully. Jaime goes reluctantly, knowing the Riverlands have already been ravaged by his father’s men: “scarce a field remained unburnt, a town unsacked, a maiden undespoiled.” Cersei’s request that he finish the work of men like Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch “[leaves] a bitter taste in his mouth” (JAIME III, AFFC). Jaime is also mindful of his oaths to Catelyn Stark, i.e. that he will not take arms against Stark or Tully, and his own personal ambitions for betterment. But the dregs of the war aren’t going anywhere, and so begins Jaime’s attempt to balance his own personal ambitions with what his family needs to solidify their rule.

RETURNING TO THE RIVERLANDS

Jaime initially travels with little sense of direction. He hovers at Darry to see Lancel and settle the matter of Cersei’s infidelity. He returns to Harrenhal to restore order, and makes some attempts at a transformation into ‘Goldenhand the Just’: rescuing Pia, executing her rapist, punishing outlaws (be they of opposing camps or otherwise) and rehabilitating Ser Ilyn Payne. But as many have observed, these are small gestures - perhaps even misguided, in the case of the outlaws: Brienne’s chapters feature a sorrowful monologue on the plight of ‘broken men’, who have long suffered at the mercy of their high lords. This is Jaime attempting to do good within the scope he’s been afforded, but he is under no illusions that it is enough to transform his reputation, and it is certainly not enough to atone for his sins: 

"Wear [the golden hand], Jaime," urged Ser Kennos of Kayce. "Wave at the smallfolk and give them a tale to tell their children." "I think not." Jaime would not show the crowds a golden lie. Let them see the stump. Let them see the cripple. [JAIME III, AFFC]

“Men will name you Goldenhand from his day forth,” the armorer had assured him the first time he fitted it onto Jaime’s wrist. He was wrong. I shall be the Kingslayer till I die. [JAIME III, AFFC]

“He was not wrong," Ser Bonifer allowed, "but some sins are blacker than others, and fouler in the nostrils of the Seven." And you have no more nose than my little brother, or my own sins would have you choking on that pear. [JAIME III, AFFC]

After loitering long enough, Jaime finally continues his journey to Riverrun, where he finds the entire place at a standstill. The Freys have ruined negotiations by belying the bluff behind their threats, and now Riverrun will not fall without armed conflict. Jaime does not want armed conflict owing to the oath he swore to Catelyn that he would not take up arms against House Tully, but the danger to his house grows more pronounced: Lannisters and Freys can be found hanging in the woods, and Brynden Tully obstinately wants no peace with them. The contrast between the honourable Tullys and the impotent Freys is immediately made starkly apparent, and any reader would feel that Jaime is on the wrong side of this conflict. Yet even despite Jaime’s own obvious disregard for the Freys, we get to see the House Lannister he’s grown up with, and hopes to protect: the jovial Daven, the fond Genna, even the tragic Lancel. There is genuine affection amongst the extended tree of Lannisters, not easily dismissed for the sake of oaths.

Yet even so, Genna quickly notes Jaime is not the man to protect them: “Who will protect us now? [...] Tyrion is Tywin’s son, not you.” I’d argue that it is at this juncture, more than any other, that Jaime resolves to begin his performance as Tywin’s ‘true’ heir: he has entered this conflict lacking direction, and Genna has now provided him one that he has willfully ignored till now: House Lannister needs someone to protect them, and if not him, then who?

So begins the delicate balancing act between Jaime’s own ideals and oaths to Catelyn, alongside the dwindling security of House Lannister. 

ALLIES & ENEMIES

We frequently see Jaime struggle with the fact that he vastly prefers his enemies to his allies, even as the reader is encouraged to do the same. Jaime likes Jeyne Westerling, with her earnest devotion to Robb. He has admired Brynden Tully since he was a boy, and desperately hopes to win the man over himself (to no avail). He clearly prefers Tytos Blackwood to Jonos Bracken, despite (if not because of) Blackwood’s staunch support for House Tully, versus Bracken’s more malleable loyalties. Yet Jaime himself is encumbered by Freys of dubious loyalty and still more dubious character (if they are not altogether ineffectual), as well as lickspittles and violent rogues, such as the remainder of Gregor’s party he finds at Harrenhal. We see Jaime attempting to work with what he’s been given, but the disdain he feels towards his allies is always palpable - whilst his preference for his more honourable enemies is a recurring weakness.

Jaime’s ADWD chapter is an interesting exploration of both the strengths of Jaime’s character, and the ways in which he is ill-suited to his role in this conflict. He is instantly able to build some rapport with Tytos Blackwood, agreeing to privately manage humiliating dealings, and making allowances for the man where he can. He even goes so far as to allow Blackwood to choose his own hostage - Jonos Bracken advises Jaime that taking Tytos’ treasured daughter would give House Lannister the strongest hold over the family, but when Tytos emotionally protests, he allows the man to instead suggest a son he’s less fond of, and who would even enjoy the trip to the capital. The threat inherent in this exchange is so forgotten that when Hoster Blackwood emerges as though ready for summer camp, Jaime realises he has to remind the Blackwoods of who exactly they’re dealing with, else appear weak to a supporter who might easily turn: 

"I am not your friend and I am not your brother." That cleaned the grin off the boy's face. Jaime turned to Lord Tytos. "My lord, let there be no misunderstanding here. Lord Beric Dondarrion, Thoros of Myr, Sandor Clegane, Brynden Tully, this woman Stoneheart … all these are outlaws and rebels, enemies to the king and all his leal subjects. If I should learn that you or yours are hiding them, protecting them, or assisting them in any way, I will not hesitate to send you your son's head. I hope you understand that. Understand this as well: I am not Ryman Frey." [JAIME I, ADWD]

Here, Jaime directly counterposes himself with Ryman Frey: the man who almost lost Riverrun owing to his ineffectual bluffing. The reason being that Jaime and Ryman are dealing in the same currency: so far, Jaime has offered only threats that remain untested by his enemies, and Hos the hostage is only another of them. His role as Tywin’s heir is an elaborate performance, but Tywin’s reputation was earned through deed - Jaime so far relies only the memory of that. The second any one enemy does dare to test his resolve, the whole business could come crashing down - because this is a character who has yet to prove his resolve in the matter to either his enemies or himself, and is desperately avoiding doing so.

We see his lack of conviction again in subsequent conversations with his new hostage. Hoster reminds Jaime of his younger brother Tyrion, building his warmth towards the boy, and soon enough Jaime is asking him questions about the surrounding landscape and its history. At the end of the chapter, Jaime even shares a skin of wine with Hoster and his young squires (mostly hostages themselves) about a campfire, failing to enforce an emotional distance. The only instance where Jaime resumes his performance before Hoster is one where the pretence is palpable:

"My father had a saying too. Never wound a foe when you can kill him. Dead men don't claim vengeance." "Their sons do," said Hoster, apologetically. "Not if you kill the sons as well. Ask the Casterlys about that if you doubt me. Ask Lord and Lady Tarbeck, or the Reynes of Castamere. Ask the Prince of Dragonstone." For an instant, the deep red clouds that crowned the western hills reminded him of Rhaegar's children, all wrapped up in crimson cloaks. "Is that why you killed all the Starks?" "Not all," said Jaime. "Lord Eddard's daughters live. One has just been wed. The other …" Brienne, where are you? Have you found her? "… if the gods are good, she'll forget she was a Stark. She'll wed some burly blacksmith or fat-faced innkeep, fill his house with children, and never need to fear that some knight might come along to smash their heads against a wall." [JAIME I, ADWD]

Here, Hoster inadvertently tests Jaime’s resolve in the Lannister cause, and Jaime parrots obligingly, invoking his father’s darkest deeds as a reminder of what House Lannister is capable of. As Tywin’s heir, Jaime, is aware that he owes his audience a performance.

Yet what is coming out of Jaime’s mouth runs laughably counter to his own feelings and actions. He does not agree with his father’s methodry: the memory of Rhaenys’ and Aegon’s bloody bodies is clearly traumatic, and something Jaime has repeatedly wished he had prevented. And he has of course sent Brienne to rescue Sansa; in doing so, he may well have sown the seeds of the next Stark uprising himself, a consequence that could directly threaten his own family. This goes to prove how complex and contradictory Jaime’s objectives have become. He is attempting to preserve the security of both the Starks and the Lannisters, whilst struggling to avoid handing either side victory over the other. 

Jaime cannot make that struggle apparent to his audience, however, and so he says the words for Hoster: it is important Hoster believes them - that everyone does - yet once again, words are all Jaime has offered.

HALF MEASURES

Jaime’s sole ADWD chapter offers the best framework to unpack one of the most discussed episodes of Jaime’s Riverlands arc, and that is: Jaime’s threat to fling a baby over a castle wall.

"You've seen our numbers, Edmure. You've seen the ladders, the towers, the trebuchets, the rams. If I speak the command, my coz will bridge your moat and break your gate. Hundreds will die, most of them your own. Your former bannermen will make up the first wave of attackers, so you'll start your day by killing the fathers and brothers of men who died for you at the Twins. The second wave will be Freys, I have no lack of those. My westermen will follow when your archers are short of arrows and your knights so weary they can hardly lift their blades. When the castle falls, all those inside will be put to the sword. Your herds will be butchered, your godswood will be felled, your keeps and towers will burn. I'll pull your walls down, and divert the Tumblestone over the ruins. By the time I'm done no man will ever know that a castle once stood here." Jaime got to his feet. "Your wife may whelp before that. You'll want your child, I expect. I'll send him to you when he's born. With a trebuchet." [JAIME VI, AFFC]

As already mentioned, bluffs have been Jaime’s sole currency against the Tullys so far. The trouble is that he has entered an arena where bluffs have already been used to ill effect: the Freys have practically numbed Brynden Tully and his garrison to Edmure’s death, by threatening to do kill the man daily and failing follow through: this has led Brynden to frame his retaliation under the supposition that his nephew is as good as dead already. The best thing Jaime could do to assert his status over the Freys and dominance over the Tullys is demonstrate that he is a man of action, and will kill Edmure - but the action required is precisely that which he is not willing to take.

So Jaime enters this conflict with a bluff of his own, this time pointed at both the Freys and Edmure, as it’s necessary for both parties to believe he means what he says. Having covertly directed Ser Ilyn Payne to bluff, Jaime fools even the reader for a moment into believing that he meant to have Edmure’s head off:

The ferry had just started across with Walder Rivers and Edwyn Frey when Jaime and his men arrived at the river. As they awaited its return, Jaime told them what he wanted. Ser Ilyn spat into the river. [...] The sight of Ser Ilyn widened [Edmure’s] eyes. "Better a sword than a rope. Do it, Payne." "Ser Ilyn," said Jaime. "You heard Lord Tully. Do it." [...] "No! Stop. NO!" Edwyn Frey came panting into view. [JAIME VI, AFFC]

It’s here apparent that Ilyn Payne has been instructed to sever the rope suspending Edmure, making it seem to Edmure and onlookers that he means for Ilyn to behead the man. Jaime knows that Edwyn Frey will intervene before this can take place, but Edmure, who already bought into Jaime’s Kingslayer persona, has now had it reified by Jaime’s apparent resolve to behead him there and then. This lays the foundations for Jaime’s subsequent negotiations with Edmure: whilst treating with Brynden Tully, a man with nothing to lose, was a worthless pursuit… convincing Edmure, with everything to lose, holds more promise, and Jaime has now primed him to accept the carrot and fear the invisible stick.

Many readers do not regard Jaime’s villainous monologue to Edmure as any kind of bluff, but rather a promise that demonstrates that even if he isn’t Tywin’s ‘true’ heir, he’s capable of the same cruelties. However, we’ve now established that bluffs have become the currency at Riverrun, and are an especially vital currency to Jaime, a man who is determined to take no decisive action for the sake of his oath. His sole objective is to get Edmure to surrender peacefully, and violent words are his oddly pacifist method. 

It is also worth observing the improvised nature of the threat. Jaime mentions trebuchets specifically because they are trademark of Tywin’s from his feuds with the Reynes and the Tarbecks - as is drowning castles so that no-one would know they ever stood. The whole threat is heavy on Tywinian rhetoric, promising violent extremes that are atypical of Jaime’s own approach in war - but of course, they go the extra mile in pushing Edmure over the edge. Edmure knows what the Lannisters are capable of, and that is enough to frighten him into acquiescence before he begins to wonder what Jaime himself is capable of. 

Following Edmure’s surrender, Jaime self-consciously notes to himself his cynical invocation of Tywin’s trademarks, humorlessly marvelling at what came out of his mouth:

‘With a trebuchet,’ Jaime thought. If his aunt had been there, would she still say Tyrion was Tywin’s son? [JAIME VI, AFFC]

And of course, we see again here what has been on Jaime’s mind the whole time. Genna has told him she doesn’t believe he can protect their family, because he is no second coming of Tywin Lannister. Jaime is desperate to prove otherwise, whilst simultaneously desperate not to - and so, in thinking to himself that he has proved Genna wrong, Jaime has ironically proved her right: he is not willing to take decisive action, offering only words to suggest he could. 

Finally, there is a telling passage that precedes Jaime’s threat, suggesting the extent to which just saying the words pains Jaime:

Must you make me say the words? Pia was standing by the flap of the tent with her arms full of clothes. His squires were listening as well, and the singer. Let them hear, Jaime thought. Let the world hear. It makes no matter. He forced himself to smile. [JAIME VI, AFFC]

Jaime has built rapport with Pia and his squires over the course of AFFC - he gets to know them as people, they get to know him, and Jaime is a different person for them than he has been in the minds of those back at King’s Landing - he is a saviour to Pia, and a mentor for his squires. They are at the inception of the man Jaime wants to become for the rest of Westeros - someone honourable, and worthy of their respect. 

However, Tywin Lannister was not such a man - he was a man to be feared, and to sustain the Lannister regime, his heir must be feared as well. Jaime asks himself, ‘Must [Edmure] make me say the words?’, belying the fact that he had hoped to leave the threat implicit, offering Edmure a hand to his feet without having to show him the back of it. He is conscious of Pia and his squires listening, and how these words will impact their opinion of him; how the words will get out of the tent, and impact everyone’s opinion of him. 

But Jaime resolves: “Let them hear. Let the world hear. It makes no matter.” It’s apparent that it does matter to Jaime; he does not want to be a man feared and despised. Nonetheless, there is a futility in these lines. He lost the respect of Westeros long ago, and will not regain it in acting as Tywin’s heir. ‘Goldenhand the Just’ is a fantasy, and revealing his true motives to the world would be dangerous. He has to maintain his performance as Tywin’s heir for the sake of his family, and if that’s all the world will ever know of him… here, Jaime is telling himself to suck it up. “He forced himself to smile.”

The threat serves its purpose in the short-term, however. As much as Edmure hates Jaime for the words, it’s likely he requires them before he can sign Riverrun away to the Lannisters. Edmure needs to know the price of the carrot, cannot take it without asking. The price tells Edmure he’s making the right decision for everyone, albeit a bitter, humiliating one that reeks of injustice. Yet to refuse the carrot would be to surrender his family and people to something worse than injustice: in short Edmure needs to believe he’s saving his family from something. Jaime gives him that. 

THE PEACE

Of course, the greatest trouble for the Lannisters is that Jaime’s measures will not maintain the peace in his absence. Jaime did not take up arms against the Tullys, and so Brynden has escaped. In all likelihood, Edmure and his pregnant wife will shortly do the same - they travel with Jeyne Westerling to Casterly Rock, a character GRRM has told us will feature in TWOW’s prologue. It seems a foregone conclusion that that prologue will see an interruption to the hostages’ journey to the Rock, perhaps one orchestrated by Brynden Tully. 

It hardly helps that Jaime has even released a number of Tully men after having them swear an oath after the fashion of his own to Cat: 

Lady Genna suggested that a few of the men might be put to the question. He refused. "I gave Edmure my word that if he yielded, the garrison could leave unharmed." "That was chivalrous of you," his aunt said, "but it's strength that's needed here, not chivalry." [...] The Tully garrison departed the next morning, stripped of all their arms and armour. Each man was allowed three days' food and the clothing on his back, after he swore a solemn oath never to take up arms against Lord Emmon or House Lannister. "If you're fortunate, one man in ten may keep that vow," Lady Genna said. [JAIME VII, AFFC]

As we see, Genna does not regard Jaime’s measures as stringent enough for their ends, and she may well be right - the Lannisters’ pit of violence has grown too deep for the family to sustain themselves through pacifism now. But ultimately, these chapters serve to show that Jaime is not willing to consider the alternative: whatever method his family requires to survive, he is demonstrably not the character to implement it.

Needless to say, it seems pointless to argue that there aren’t clear ‘good guys’ and ‘bad guys’ in the Riverlands conflict - because even if there were, Jaime’s desire to protect his family is a sympathetic one. His attempts to do this solely through rhetoric are understandable, even laudable. And the fact that he has ultimately failed has a level of tragedy to it: we root for the Tullys and their return to Riverrun, and the downfall of the Lannister regime, but there is still a human cost associated. 

The coming of Red Wedding 2.0 is another foregone conclusion, but from the groundwork laid in AFFC and ADWD, it seems clear that GRRM will not intend it as a triumphant event: it was gruesome and cruel the first time, with many innocent lives lost in the crossfire - it can only be so different the second. 

As readers, we want Jaime to move beyond the Lannister cause to higher ideals, and in ADWD he has. But GRRM does not intend that this should be an easy path to take. Jaime’s loved ones remain embroiled in this conflict, and fighting for or favouring the other side has implications for all of them. Abandoning the Lannister cause is necessarily difficult, and there will be consequences for doing so.

NEXT PART: A Reckoning in the Riverlands!!! this won't be quick but i hope it won't be a fucking year

[starsofjewels]

The Yellow Wedding

(Gregor Clegane x Bride! Reader)

Yes, I know, and I pinky promise I'm ashamed that I'm a Greggie C simp. Yes, I know, he's like the only GOT character who is completely morally unforgiveable. Yes, I know, I have a problem, blame it on the lack of stability idfk.

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A/N: This pookie has been in my drafts since before I made this account, so it's kind of my baby. If you think Gregor Clegane is bad, just wait and see what else I have in store for y'all. Gods bless.

This is the beginning of a series I like to call- Who the f*ck is writing for that character? I did promise questionable- You get questionable.

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CONTENT: Canon compliant! Arranged/ forced marriage, language, non descriptive! Sex/ nudity, alcohol use/ drunkenness

(Is Greggie C his own content warning? Probably.)

Word count: 3.3k

It is not a match you would ever make for yourself. You would spend no time begging your father for such a marriage or pleading with your mother to make your father consent. No, this was your father’s decision alone. You do not know what Tywin Lannister has promised your father, but you assume something great; more men to fish the rivers or more materials to make the small Riverlands village your father controls less sparse. No matter what it is, he is convinced it is worth the price, and so you will marry Gregor Clegane, the Mountain.

Although you have spent your childhood in the Riverlands, you have heard of the monstrous man. Beastly tall, and stronger than any man alive. Even you, with your quiet, humble education are well-versed in his ferocity, of the sheer terror he inflicts upon even the strongest of men. Although you were no older than three or four at the time of Robert Baratheon’s rebellion, you know full well what the Mountain did to Rhaegar’s bride and their children; and the horses he can behead with a single swing of his great sword. And it makes you sick to believe that you will wed such a monster. 

Crying to your father does nothing, nor does wailing endlessly to your mother, or the septa whose focus is now on your sisters. You are a low noble, your father tells you, it is better than you deserve and more than you will ever get again. Your mother cannot speak to you, she sobs when she tries, and you know there are things not even your mother can tell you.

Your sisters squeal with excitement at the idea of travelling from the Riverlands, and you realise that although you have gone as far as Highgarden, your sisters have barely seen Acorn Hall. You do not ride with them, no, Lord Tywin provides you and your father with a separate carriage, decorated beautifully and accompanied by grey horses. Your father promises he will let you keep one after you are married, and even as a grown maiden, the thought of another horse excites you.

You realise unreasonably quickly that this wedding is a Lannister wedding. Although you are not marrying into the house of lions, the entire event is tainted with their presence. You will be married in Lannisport, in a dress paid for by Tywin Lannister and designed by his tailors. The food and the wine from his contacts, and the guests Lannister supporters. Your father is impressed, he tells you what is gold, and what is silver, and how lucky you are to be such a finely kept bride.

“Lannisport is beautiful this time of year,” Your father takes your hand in his as you begin to ride, as though that helps you, “You will enjoy it, I think- The sea air may calm you…”

You nod, uninterested, as you begin to move further away from your home. He sighs,

“You may not be pleased with this arrangement, Daughter, but Lord Tywin has given you a better wedding than any girl could wish for. The Mountain may not be a kind husband or a good husband, but you will be safe.”

“If he doesn’t eat me first…”

Your father hears you, despite how lowly you mumble. He looks at you, displeased, and says nothing.

The ride to Lannisport takes several days. Each time you stop your sisters marvel over something new, so easily impressed that a fallen tree sparks hours of conversation. They spend all of their time “helping” the stableboys with the horses and chasing after innkeepers’ cats. Part of you wishes you were young enough to join them, to run along with them and hide from the cooks, sneaking sweets from the kitchen.

Instead, you are sat down with your mother and your septa. The latter very gently explains what will happen to you when you are joined with Clegane in the eyes of the Gods when you become man and wife and things are suddenly expected of you; and you realise it is nothing you didn’t already know from listening to your father’s guards, or from far too much time with only yourself for company. It will hurt, she tells you, it always hurts; he will not be gentle, he will not care for you afterwards, and you wonder how a celibate sister would know such things.

The rush of Lannisport is not like anywhere else you have been on your travels; it is busier, much busier. You know from your studies there are hundreds of thousands of inhabitants in this city, and you wonder if all of them have come out to meet with you. They haven’t, of course, aside from a few young children who stare at the gold and silver carriages, and the servants employed to assist your family. Anyone around you is far too busy with their own life to care at all about what you do. 

Your sisters are taken off to see the sights the city beholds, the high walls, the ports, and the beaches, utterly distracted by lights and sand. You, as always, are not as lucky. The septa dresses you in a fine yellow dress, in such a shade you immediately recognise it as Clegane colours. She fixes your hair with thin, silver ribbons which suit your hair nearly perfectly, and leads you along the bright halls of your apartments.

You have no time to awe at the Lannisters’ exuberant wealth - You see the gold-lined portraits your father could never afford, the jewels left in glass bowls with no fear anyone may steal them. No, you are brought swiftly, and with no fuss, across the halls, until you reach what you assume to be a sitting room. She leaves you at the door, slamming it shut before you can register you have been thrown in.

The room is darker, the curtains are pulled, creating a dusky light which draws only unease from you. Wine is laid out for you, and a selection of fruit, and other trinkets you cannot make out in the dim light.

The creature at the other end of the room stirs, and you yelp. You expect it to be Gregor Clegane, and your hands reach for the doorknob, only to find it locked. The man stands, and he is far taller than you could imagine. Taller than any man in the Seven Kingdoms, or anywhere else, you think. He grumbles and moves closer to you with slow, deliberate movements, taunting you.

Once you see the scars poorly hidden by his thick, long hair, however, you realise it is, in fact, not your prospective husband. But his brother; the Hound, Sandor. 

You have heard every rumour about the Hound. Savagery matched only by his brother, a rage fuelled by a young Gregor plunging his brother’s face into a fire, over nothing more than a wooden knight, no matter what their father told those around them. He fears nothing: not Gods, not kings or the lions they surround themselves with. And soon, he will be your brother-by-law

He laughs. Deep, and rumbling, and you know he is laughing at you. The Hound takes a cup of wine for himself, drinking it entirely with one sip. He eyes you up, and down.

“You are… my betrothed’s brother?” 

You try to sound like a proper lady. The Hound laughs in your face.

“Your betrothed?” He mocks, setting the empty cup down and marching towards you. You see the burns on his face - Ugly, pink things, still not healed after endless years and more ointments than you could imagine. “This isn’t a fairytale, little lady. I’d be surprised if you survived the wedding night.”

“I-”

He does not let you speak,

“If his hands don’t kill you, girl, his cock will.”

Your eyes go wide as he utters the word - Something you’ve only heard out of drunken peasants, and not knights. He notices immediately.

“He’ll say far worse than cock, petal. I don’t know why Tywin Lannister is making you marry my brother, but it won’t be pleasant.”

He sighs, sitting himself back down,

“The only reason I’m here is to make sure you make it to the bed- It’d look bad on the family if he killed you before then - As if we could be worse.”

There is nothing you can say to make the situation better or, for that matter, any worse. Sandor looks at you properly, and he realises how young you are.

“How old are you, girl?”

“I’m… nine and ten, Ser.”

He softens, somewhat. His scars seem less frightening when his face is not a scowl.

“Young-” He says, quietly, “young, little thing. By the Gods, his last ones have all been older.” His voice drops, but you hear him. “He might spare you…”

He fills the brief silence that follows.

“You’ve never had a man, have you?”

“No, Ser.”

“Ser. I am no Ser, lamb.”

You stare up at him, almost confused. You were certain he was a knight- Any king would jump at their chance to knight a man like Sandor.

“I refused. Ever since Rhaegar Targaryen knighted your betrothed. If a brute like the Mountain can be made a knight, I refuse.”

“That… I suppose that… makes sense.”

He sighs, reaching out to you and taking your hand, gently.

“If you do what he says, you might be fine. Don’t anger him, petal. Don’t ever anger him. Not even the Gods will save you.”

With that, he leaves you alone in the dim sitting room, until the septa returns and helps you back to your chambers. She asks basic questions, which sound as though she’s written them in advance.

For the next three days, you are primped and prepared like a fine ham, rather than a beautiful bride. Women engulf you nearly every moment of the day, bathing you in hot water filled with roses, scrubbing you raw.

You are taught the wedding procession, how the septon will join you together under the Seven, and what will be expected of you in the early stages of your marriage.

Upon the morning of your wedding, you are awoken to find your wedding dress already waiting for you; white and delicate, an apparent symbolism of your purity. Despite never having bedded a man, you wonder how pure you truly are. Of course, you look like the freshest, whitest snow in comparison to Gregor. 

Once you are dressed, and the ladies have swooned over how beautiful you look, you sit with the septa, awaiting the Mountain’s guests to complete their prayers, so you may be brought in.

There are private prayers for you, the septa blesses you and prays for a hopeful marriage. She sits with you and offers you wine. 

“Do you truly think this marriage is a good match?”

She sighs, taking a place beside you.

“Gregor Clegane is indeed a dangerous man, but all men can be tempted by the kisses of their lover, and enough delicate touches.”

Your eyes widen and you look at her, shocked. She smiles at you.

“Do you really think I wouldn't know of the ways of men, sweet girl? They are all the same, these brutish, knight types.”

For a moment, the septa becomes almost like a best friend, she laughs with you in a way you have never seen before.

“If I am still alive when you have daughters,” she says, “I shall serve them. And I shall pray every night they are as wonderful as you, sweet one.” She looks at you, “write me. Tell me you are safe, yes?”

“Yes. I promise you.”

Your father calls for you shortly after, you see his eyes widen as you emerge from your bedroom in that fine, white dress. You are walked rather unceremoniously to the castle’s great hall. There are decorations everywhere, flowers of white and yellow, blue and red. A true, rather fantastical, combination of your house being joined with the Cleganes and the Lannisters overseeing your union. 

Your septa waits for you by the doors and sets a crown of flowers upon your head; a bronze headdress, with flowers twisted into the metal. A small, inconsequential tradition of your house. An attempt to make you feel as though you haven't been entirely abandoned by them.

As you walk to the aisle, you recognise almost none of the guests. You see Sandor first, sitting right at the back of the hall. You can tell he is already drunk, and he refuses to look at you.   

Although you are not married in a sept, you are still joined by a holy man- You assume the septon is someone of reasonable importance within Lannisport, whose loyalty to the house of lions overpowers his devotion to the faith. Or, perhaps more likely, this septon has refused to marry a monster such as your groom in a place of worship.

You see the Mountain from a distance and, somehow, this man is far, far taller than his brother. You would expect such a man to be wed in his chain mail, or the heavy black armour you have heard so much about. Instead, he wears a tunic in such a yellow you immediately recognise it as Clegane colours, even from a distance. Although this is your first meeting, you notice how out of place he looks without his armour. 

The wedding procession is long and quite boring, and you understand why your sisters have each been given a new doll to entertain themselves with. They smile and wave and giggle as you eventually pass them, delighted to see you dress so wonderfully. Your mother shushes them, her eyes so red you can tell she has spent hours sobbing over this marriage.

The Mountain reaches out for you, and your hands grasp his own large paws, enclosed in black leather gloves. He makes no effort to speak to you, or smile at you, or do anything to comfort your terrified self, but you see him look you up and down and smile with desire. At least he is pleased with you.

His cloak is far heavier than you would expect it to be. Thick, black fur, which weighs you down to the point you are unsure how you can stand properly. It must be bear, you think, or something equally ferocious. He lets you take his arm to support yourself, as he pledges to protect you; and you wonder how long said protection will last.

One of those large, gloved hands takes your chin, lifting your face up to look at him. His hand is the size of your head, perhaps bigger. The Mountain is so large, he grasps you by the waist and pulls you up to reach his head. He carries you like you are nothing, cradling you with the same ease one would a cushion. 

You are announced as man, and as wife, and he kisses you with the ferocity expected of such a man. It is not loving nor fond, but it is certainly passionate. He refuses to let you go, holding you tightly and walking with you, like a child.

The celebration is far greater than anything you could imagine. The Lannister dignity and refinement thrown violently aside for drink and dance. You are placed at the head of the feast table, beside your monstrous husband. You watch him eat, and drink enough to kill any lesser man. You cannot eat, despite the cakes and pastries, and all of the things you would gladly finish off on any other occasion. 

You look at Gregor, and you sip your wine graciously, fearful of spilling something down yourself.

He catches your glance, and looks down at your barely touched plate. You anticipate anything but your husband lifting your spoon, and putting it to your mouth like a baby. Half out of fear, and half out of curiosity, you accept the spoonful of broth. It is too hot and not particularly flavoursome, not that you complain. Gregor smiles, looking you up and down once again, and he speaks. For the first time.

“You’re pretty.”

“Is that… good?”

He thinks for a moment,

“Aye, it’s good. You’ll make me good sons with those hips.”

You grow hot with embarrassment, unable to do anything but giggle slightly. He leans into you, out of your father’s earshot.

“Are you as delicious as you look, little thing?”

“I- Don’t know, my lord.”

He moves your hair to kiss the side of your neck. You can see this action garnering the attention of those around you,

“Mh, well- Just you wait, then, and we shall see.”

The rest of the evening is almost a blur, as you take more and more wine and honey mead. By nightfall you are flush with borderline drunkenness, and your equally-drunk husband could be a prince charming, for all you care.

He lifts you up to dance with you, too large for any form of regular dance. Your first dance as a couple is a spectacle to behold; and you cannot stop laughing the entire time. You cup his face in your hands, and you kiss him as though you do, truly love him, but you assume it is merely the alcohol in your system.

You mean to thank Lord Tywin, or whomever he has sent to oversee the wedding, or to visit your young sisters, brought out of the way of the wedding feast. There is not enough time, or sobriety, for you to do either. You are instead lifted from your chair and hauled off to Gregor’s chambers, for your new duties as his wife.

By the time he is finished with you, you can barely remember your own name. You do recall your septa’s warning of a man’s cruelty once his desires are fulfilled, and expect the worst.

Your husband rises from you, almost completely naked, and for a moment you think he will return to the festivities without his tunic. Gregor, however, returns to you with a cup of wine. You can barely drink it, giggling drunkenly as near half the wine dribbles down your bare chest.

Although you clean yourself, he holds you steady.

You spend the rest of the night in his bed, listening to the celebrations below eventually die down, as more guests retire. You sit up in thought, and he looks at you.

“No bedding ceremony?”

He snorts, pulling you closer.

“No. No other man gets to see-” His hands travel down your body, resting on your hips, “this.”

You groan, shivering despite the fire.

“Are you pleased, then?”

“Aye, aye. Pleased. I’ll be more pleased once you give me my sons.”

You whack his shoulder lightly. He does not even feel it, of course.

“Can we not enjoy our wedding night first?”

“Gods, you talk like a rich little cunt, woman.”

You splutter with laughter and he kisses your neck again, biting down on your shoulder just gently enough that it does not hurt.

“We can enjoy ourselves whilst you give me a son, love. That’s the fun of it.”

You sigh, resting a head on his bare shoulder.

“That was… quite fun…”

“Aye, it was.”

Eventually you shuffle down the bed, realising just how large it really was, to facilitate your husband’s massive form. It is warm, even if the sheets stick to your skin.

His arms wrap around you, and before you know it he is asleep, tucked into your shoulder. Gregor’s peacefulness seems odd, compared to the beastly Mountain you have heard stories of, and you wonder if he will, truly, treat you well.

You watch the fire for some time, until you too fall asleep. 

The festivities continue for a day and one more night, until the feast is truly over and you set off for your husband’s keep. 

You give the older of your sisters your crown of flowers and wave with the same enthusiasm they did on your wedding day as Gregor hands you his stallion’s bridle and wraps his arms around your hips. You leave Lannisport as the lady of the Mountain, and you wonder how he can be so pleasant to you, but so fearful on the battlefield. 

Not that you particularly care, not when you seem to have tamed the Mountain who Rides.

[mandos-mind-trick]

Kinktober Day 2: Titfucking

Summary: Gregor really loves your tits.

Pairing: Gregor x reader

Warnings: Reader is implied to have larger breasts, desperate Gregor, Gregor’s love of breasts, grinding, titfucking, facial, cum eating, slight handjob

A/N: And here we have day two. Again, rather short since it's just kinky smut. Enjoy your juice, Gregor girlies.

MASTERLIST

He’s on you as soon as he walks through the door. His lips are on yours, almost as if he’s trying to devour you. His hands tug at your shirt as he backs you through your small apartment towards your bedroom. You stumble back through the door, Gregor’s hands keeping you steady and locked against him. 

“Gregor,” You gasp as he pulls away long enough to tug your shirt over your head. “Missed you too.” 

“Kriff, baby.” He groans against your lips, calloused hands dragging down your sides. “Missed you so much. Got hard in the taxi on the trip over.” 

You giggle against his lips as he tugs your pants down, hands squeezing your bare ass. He groans against your lips, pulling your body tight against his. You can feel the hard bulge trapped in his pants pressing against your stomach. His hips begin to grind against you, desperately seeking any sort of friction. He keeps his hands on your ass, using your body for leverage as he grinds against your stomach. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, gasping as your nipples drag against the rough fabric of his shirt. “Kriff, Gregor!”

He whines against your lips, pausing his movements before he can cum. His hands slide lower, grabbing your thighs before he tosses you onto the bed. His eyes lock onto the way your bare breasts bounce as you land on the mattress, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. He quickly tugs his shirt over his head, revealing his broad chest. He tugs his pants off, revealing his hard, leaking cock. 

He crawls onto the bed, situating himself over you. He stares down at you for a moment before pressing his lips to yours. You hum against his lips, dragging your hands up his back. Your fingers find rough spots, scars that weren’t there the last time you were together. His lips drag down your jaw to your neck, tongue and teeth making work of the sensitive skin. 

His lips trail further downward, skirting over your sternum before he reaches your breasts. He pushes himself up, straddling your stomach. His hands cup your breasts, gently squeezing them. 

“Kriff, I love these tits.” He says, biting his lip as he squishes them together. 

“I know, babe.” You say, gasping quietly as his thumbs brush your nipples. 

“One of my favorite parts of you.” He says, eyes focused on your breasts. 

Your lips part in a quiet gasp as he continues to squeeze and massage them, his eyes wide and lust blown. Your chest rises and falls with your heavy breaths, his thumbs flicking over your nipples again. 

“Can I fuck them?” He asks, finally looking up at your face. 

You bite your lip, staring up into his eager eyes. “Sure, baby. Go for it.” 

He reaches over, grabbing the bottle of lube from your nightstand before squeezing some on his hands. He rubs the lube over your breasts, doing the same to his cock before he shifts himself higher on your stomach, his hard cock coming to rest in the space between your breasts. You move your hands, pushing your breasts together around his cock. He groans, his hands holding onto your headboard as he begins to move his hips, thrusting his cock between your breasts. 

You stare up at him as he fucks your breasts, his eyes lowered, watching the way his cock slides back and forth against your skin. Quiet moans leave his lips as he rolls his hips, rocking the bed a bit. 

“Kriff,” He hisses, hips jerking a bit. He’s close, already so worked up. 

You push your breasts closer around his cock, squeezing it as he moans your name. You close your eyes as hot spurts of cum paint your face and neck, his cock twitching between your breasts. You hold him there as he cums, licking the salty seed that lands on your lips. 

He's panting, holding himself up over your head. You hold his gaze, gathering the cum on your neck before licking it off your fingers. He lets out a pathetic groan, eyes blowing wide as he watches you clean yourself of his cum. 

He's already growing hard again where he's resting on your chest. You wrap your hand around his cock, squeezing the base lightly. 

"So needy." You smirk. "Missed me that much, huh?"

His lips part as he nods, another groan leaving him as you squeeze him once more. 

"Let me take care of you, baby." You say, slowly pumping his cock. 

Ragu list:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @sinfulsalutations @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @dangraccoon

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

I'm obsessed with whatever they put in the water that is making everyone share their comic Nimona fankids, but let's fucking go I have more Gregor doodles (and headcanons) to share

-Nimona is The Most Protective auntie and she will rip anyone to shreds who would bully her little buddy

-Gregor's favorite color is light orange. He favors light colors like Ambro, but warm colors like Ballister so he loves light pinks, oranges, and yellows, but he still looks good in and regularly wears other colors

-It cannot be understated how terrified Ambrosius was when he was born. He did not feel deserving of something as wonderful as he considered his baby to be, and in light of his track record of hurting people he loves, he was petrified and didn't trust himself to be a dad (while also being hormonally protective and not trusting anyone else). I imagine he'd struggle a lot at first and would experience PPD or even episodes of Postpartum Psychosis for a couple months before settling in and feeling more confident

-Ballister started reading to him every night basically from when he was a newborn infant. Ambrosius would walk in to see Ballister, cradling a scrunched-up, tiny, squinting baby Gregor who can hardly see, and reading to him pointing to the words as if he could follow along

- Anyway as a kid Gregor would insist that BOTH his parents do bedtime EVERY night because he wouldn't sleep unless Ballister read to him and Ambrosius sang to him and all three of them cuddled the whole time (he is a snugglebug like his parents)

- He learned about the joust, and about Nimona's split when he was fifteen. In an attempt to not make himself out to be perfect or better than the others, Ballister also told him about how he'd poisoned the townspeople. This did not help. He suddenly felt like his loving family were all horrible people and was openly hostile to all of them for weeks. They got him individual and family therapy and he was able to come to terms with it but the news really hurt him and his ability to trust others

- He likes to study biology and history the most, but since he can't do math he leans towards history, I think he'd be a history professor as an adult :3

- He is bi and demisexual, he is relatively charismatic and does not come across as shy, but he's secretly very closed off and afraid of connection. It's easy for him to be friendly with people but hard to make deeper friendships or relationships

- He also has ADHD and General Anxiety Disorder. Ambrosius blames himself for the latter because he was so anxious/depressed when Gregor was a baby. Literally nobody agrees with this assessment

[necronatural]

Limbus Company theory

Okay, I have absolutely no idea if anyone's noted this yet. Did anyone pick up that the Sinners are held down by a Sin, represented in their EGO, and their Canto are about their struggles against another sin entirely. The branch creates a space for 'penance'. When Rodya entered the field of effect of the branch, Baba Yaga went crazy, freezing the entire mine. There's clearly some paralleling at work here.

So let's go through.

Gregor, Canto 1: Sloth V Gluttony (survival); note that this expedition failed, and we later explore Sloth with Yi Sang

Rodion, Canto 2: Pride V Gloom; note that Rodya refused to actualize

Sinclair, Canto 3: Gluttony (Greed) V Lust

Yi Sang, Canto 4: Sloth V Gluttony (greed); Dante's resonance begins

Ishmael, Canto 5: Gloom V Envy; Dante's resonance progresses

When we look at the dominant sins of the remainder...

Heathcliff, Canto 6: Envy...

Don Quixote, Canto 7: Lust…

Hong Lu, Canto 8: Gloom…

Ryoshu, Canto 9: Wrath…

Meursault, Canto 10: Pride…

Outis, Canto 11: Pride…

Faust, Canto 12: Pride…

Dante, Canto ?: ????

Sins not confronted yet: Sloth, Pride, Wrath

Sinner sins left to explore: Envy, Wrath, Lust (If we're talking strictly what progressed Dante's clock, Gluttony & Pride)

Assuming Dante's doomsday clock setting is moving in 5 minute intervals, Dante currently has 2 positions left on their clock; 5 minutes to midnight and midnight itself. It's made almost explicit that their resonance with sinners is the tool with which they resonate with the branches. By obtaining each sin, they're building to some sort of complete whole.

Predictions based on this theory; Pride being so back-heavy probably means we're going to scramble for branches with Hermann. It gives the impression that for whatever reason Pride is necessary, which is interesting.

My own theory: Rodya says she'll settle in the cold [Gloom] for a little longer, and Sonya says she doesn't have the mark. I'd say this might mean Rodya hasn't sufficiently resonated. Sonya may have tried to bait her in hopes of getting better results in this regard.

This may mean ...

The last few Cantos will be a losing streak (LOL)

Someone who hasn't cleansed themselves of their opposing sin/formed the mark of cain will get the branch; I'd imagine this person shares sins with Dante, Vergilius, or Charon, who I believe are probably Envy, Wrath, and Lust respectively (OOP @ WHO WE'RE MISSING ⬆️)

In that respect Vergilius V Sloth, Charon V Pride, Dante V Wrath. I even think the wrath Dante is opposed to could be Vergilius

Very notable there's only 3 sins missing; it could be possible we already have Dante's branch; they were very obviously part of the group of Cain Marked, and again, their clock started at 25-to-midnight and just kind of sat there for a little while. It's also possible it didn't move until Yi Sang because their sin was Gluttony (ambiguous manifestation)? If Hermann also represents Lust ..... Think about it

Rodya's refusal of the call of Cain might become plot-relevant, just as our failure to observe what happened to Gregor on the myth arc timeline of 3 years ago and relationship with the Big Bad makes it obvious he's going to be a core character in the future. We can tell based on those who have the mark of Cain that he just doesn't have the chops, so mayhaps their mutual exclusion will be a surprise tool that will help us later.

And of course, my theories for the sins that weigh down our remaining Sinners: Heathcliff V Sloth, Don Quixote V Wrath, and Ryoshu V Pride. I predict all the Prides share Rodya's opposing force, which is Gloom; we see this in the books these characters are based on, with Meursault's despair of being sentenced to death being overcome by his Pride, Outis putting herself through grueling trials for the sake of returning to her family, and Faust beginning with suicidal depression leading to her pride creating(summoning) Mephistopheles.

I think it would be pretty funny if Dante was Gretchen's evil baby. Or that Gretchen might have been their previous self, manipulated into giving birth to Dante (extremely vulnerable and exploitable state), which they will be disgusted by and put to death. How many representations of the Divine Feminine in classic literature can Dante represent any% speedrun

[prof-ramses]

Hollow Sorrows Trailer Breakdown LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO

Obviously, if you don't want spoilers, scroll away. If you've already seen the trailer, LET'S GO!!!

So when we first see possessed Patty, she looks mostly normal, you can't even see her demon teeth through the mask yet. John and Jack probably only came in since they heard a scream and/or struggle coming from the morgue.

So we get a shot of the boys being too chaotic, something Gregor points out and what will likely cause the "bad character development" Pelo ahs mentioned.

Also, since it's 100% what Pelo would do, Costume Bob is the guy in the HF suit. Mark my words.

The scene with the hatz is really interesting to me, since Skid and Pump just annoys Roy for a moment and leave. I think this might be all we get of the hatzgang this time, similar to how Frank only had a brief Appearance in Tender Treats. If my theory that episode 7 will focus on Roy is true, this little scene will be very interesting to dissect when the full episode drops.

We actually get out first proper glimpse at a new character and I think this old man is the very last character in the line up teaser

And there's also a pretty good chance he Roy's grandfather and given the way he reacts to the boys antics here, I can definitely see him being a another reasons Roy's the way he is.

If he actually is Roy's grandpa, then @crossover-enthusiast and I's Roy discussions are going to get really fun pretty soon.

Here, Skid is clearly holding a framed photo, meaning this will almost certainly be the first time his father is brought up directly.

Also, yeah, with Pump's line about "hangover spooky month", it seems my theory about Lila in this episode was at least half right.

Yet more proof that the boys' absent parents will be more of a focus. The trailer as a whole gives me some ideas regarding the Wonder parents, but I feel they're best saved for another time.

The boys get into trouble with the cops and I have 2 theories regarding when, either Gregor tries to get them sent home before going to the hospital, but they talk their way out of it, or they actually do get sent home at the end of the episode.

John's expression here immediately makes we think that something Skid or Pump said reminded him of his daughter. Another plot thread that has yet to be directly acknowledged.

Ignacio watches Gregor lead the boys away, maybe he lives down the street from Skid and Lila to keep an eye on them for the cult?

Either way, I'm surprised his appearance won't take place in the hospital as I previously predicted.

"I will be your guide. And I know your parents would be proud of you."

There's something undeniably sinister about this line, but how sinister hinges on whether Gregor is a cultist or ex-cultist. Whatever the case may be, he definitely knows more about or sees more in the boys than he lets on.

A great title card, and thought the blood everywhere is definitely concerning, I don't think there's anything to really say here, just wanted to get a screenshot of it.

And it would appear the character I've referred to as the cat lady will have the unenviable role of a hapless victim to the episode's villain. But honestly, I'm more surprised by her being at the hospital in the first place and why that never occurred to me before.

The actual progression of Patty's possession confirms to she's possessed by something other than Moloch. And what seals it for me is, fittingly, the eyes. The white of her eyes becomes a more vivid yellow, yet her pupil snot only don't form Moloch's typical spirals, but they're a more vivid shade of baby blue, a color that has never had any significance in the series before. Moloch will mostly be trapped in Dexter before eventually possessing Gregor, I will die on this hill.

AND THE FUGGIN' RELEASE DATE!!!

Alright, that's all, only a month now. We're so back!

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaiden Pt 10.

(Sandor Clegane x Fem Reader x Cersei Lannister. SMUT: Domme Cersei, light knife play, fingering, bondage, light degradation, overstimulation, oral <male receiving>)

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

The day had finally come for you to return South and you were glad of it.

There was nothing worse, in your opinion, than being trapped in a clearly troubled place where there is nothing you can do to help.

Before you left, Theon Greyjoy stopped you. "Apologies, my lady. But, Lady Stark would like to have a word before you leave."

Catelyn Stark had holed herself up in main tower at her child's sick bed, never leaving as far as you knew.

You agreed, following the young man up the stairs and finding Lady Stark sitting in a worn wooden chair, hands clasped at her knees. She looked more ghost than woman.

"My Lady?" You breathed carefully, as if approaching a baby deer. "You sent for me?"

"Lady Clegane" Catelyn almost jumped when she saw you, as if she had forgotten summoning you at all, "Thank you Theon, you may go."

Left alone with Catelyn, you let your eyes wander the the little bundle in the middle of the bed. "How is he?"

"No change." Catelyn sighed, "but the Maesters say he is out of danger now"

She turned to you with sunken, sullen eyes. "I've asked you here to ask a favor."

"Anything, my lady" you nodded, feeling great pity for the woman before you.

"This will be my daughters' first trip south, away from home." Catelyn breathed, "Their father will be with them, and he is a good man, he is but...."

Fresh tears began to well up in her eyes and she wiped them away firmly.

"They've never been away from their mother before and I need...I am asking you to watch out for them, as if they were your daughters. Please, do this for me?"

"Oh of course, Lady Stark." You were relieved the assignment was so straight forward, "I will do everything I can."

You weren't expecting the sudden onslaught of physical contact as Lady Stark wrapped her arms around your neck.

"Oh thank you!" She sobbed, "thank you, thank you."

You nodded and waited for her to let go before clearing your throat. "Forgive me, Lady Stark. But I must go before they leave without me."

"Of course" she pulled away, face once again wet with tears, "go, go. You mustn't keep them waiting"

You gripped her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze, "my prayers will be with you, Lady Stark"

---------

"What did she want?" Sandor grumbled, annoyed you had left him holding your mare's reigns to wait for you.

"She asked me to keep an eye on her girls." You sighed, "that poor woman, she looked closer to the grave than her son."

"It doesn't feel right" Sandor mounted Stranger as you pulled the mare up beside him. "Give me a good, clean death. I wouldn't want to get stuck between."

"Ugh" you pulled a face, "I don't want to think of you dying. There's been enough unpleasantness these last few weeks. I'm just glad to be going home."

Sandor didn't say anything, not wanting to point out that all that likely waited for you in Kings Landing were bitter nobles and nasty rumors about the upstart handmaiden who had slept her way into the Queen's Court.

He knew there was very little he could do to shield you from that. His speciality was in the feild and the fighting pits, with his sword or his fists. The gentry was an entirely different beast.

Part of him wanted to ship you off to the Westerlands to Clegane Keep. It was a generous bit of land gifted to his grandfather by the Lannisters, and had plenty of forest and farms to draw a profit from if you actually bothered to maintain it.

But the queen would never allow it, and a part of himself wouldn't either. Away from him meant closer to something else. Brigands, lustful lords, and worst of all, Gregor.

Sandor knew that at some point, some point uncomfortably soon, you would have to formally meet your new brother by law. Gregor was more beast than man, never sticking around court too long lest he find some stuck up noble to decapitate or unlucky lady to rape.

How would Gregor react to his younger brother marrying before he did? Probably producing a Clegane heir before he did? Would he see it as a challenge to his seat?

Sandor prayed he didn't.

But he didn't bring this up, not to you. Instead he rode in comfortable silence beside you, keeping an eye out for Prince Joffrey, who was probably being held hostage by his lioness mother trying to woo Lady Sansa.

That poor kid, he thought, that family was going to eat her alive.

___________

At dusk, you had come to an inn and thanked the gods for it. Who knew just a few weeks at Winterfell would soften your legs so much.

"Ow," you hissed as the chaffed flesh of your thighs touched. "Dammit"

"Sore?" Sandor smirked, his thighs of iron practically impervious to riding sores. "Perhaps you need something between them to make you feel better"

"You offering?" You challenged him with a teasing smile.

"Run along" the not-knight pulled down your hood and kissed the top of your head, "you queen wants you."

Cersei smiled as you approached the royal carriage. "Lady Clegane, come sit with us" she reached out to you and you took her hand carefully as you climbed into the carriage.

Inside was Lady Sansa and Princess Marcella who had been chatting like eager birds.

"You remember Lady Sansa?"

"Of course" you nodded to the spry 12 year old who nodded back politely. "How is the travel treating you so far?"

"I've never been so far from home before." Sansa confessed, "it's thrilling"

"I hadn't traveled much before this either" you agreed. "But this Northern countryside is just heavenly. So quiet."

"You must be exhausted, my darling" Cersei fussed "all that time on that beast, you must join me in the carriage at least once"

"I will try to tear myself away, your grace" you promised almost teasing, relaxing as the queen linked her arm in yours.

"You, guard." The queen swiftly called to random servant, "find the Hound and tell him Lady Clegane will be spending the evening with the Queen and not to worry." She glanced at you, eyes tracking your form like a wild cat, "She will be very well taken care of"

"At once, your grace" the servant scurried away and you smiled shyly.

"The king will not mind?" You whispered, unsure how much could be said in front of the younger girls.

"His Grace is busy orientating his new Hand" Cersei assured you, "trust me, he won't even notice. Now-" she raised her voice, indicating they no longer needed to talk in circles around Sansa and Marcella.

"I sent a raven to my dressmaker while we were in Winterfell and bless him, he was able to get a response back to me before we left. If we take your measurements and sent them to Kings Landing tonight, he should have some gowns ready for you upon our arrival. Any alterations needed can be done when we get there."

"Wow" you were awestruck at the efficiency. If left to your own devices you wouldn't have known where to begin. "I can not thank you enough, your grace."

"Nonsense" Cersei moved to leave the carriage, trailing you and the girls behind her like ducklings. "I will not have you looking any less than your best when you're received. Marcella, why don't you run along and find your Septa, I'm sure you have some lessons to go over. And Sansa, isn't you sister around here somewhere?"

The girls dutifully fled as Cersei's arm went from your elbow to your waist, "and you, Lady Clegane" she breathed, "will take me up to my room"

The innkeep had set aside the two largest rooms in the inn for the King and Queen. Cersei's room contained a large 4 poster bed, a writing desk, full length mirror edged in carved oak, and a fireplace.

"Have you ever had your measurements taken?"

"No" you swallowed, knowing damn well that wasn't why she'd stolen you away for the evening.

"Stand up straight" Cersei pulled a measuring tape from her bags. "Arms at your sides, there's a lamb"

The Queen's breath warmed the back of your neck as she measured your legs, your waist and bust, and your arms finger tip to finger tip.

For a moment you thought you had fooled yourself. She hadn't called you up here for anything more than measurements, that was all.

Your skin prickled as the leather measuring tape brushed your throat suddenly, unsure when it had even gotten there. The strap pressed against your windpipe lightly, not enough to restrict you but enough to threaten.

"Put your arms behind your back" Cersei purred into your ear, nipping gently at the lobe until you obeyed. You felt the thin leather wrap around your right wrist, then your left before they were pulled together tightly.

"I want to tell you a story" Cersei's hands fell to your hips, guiding you to the full length mirror. Her chin rested on your shoulder thoughtfully, running her hands up and down your body.

"When I was a little girl, I had a doll. Well, actually, I had a great many dolls. But one doll in particular was my favorite. I thought she was the most beautiful doll in the world."

As the story began, you watched in amazement as her elegant hands cupped your breasts and rubbed tender circles on your hips. It was like they moved on their own, Cersei fully engrossed in her own story and letting her hands grope and feel as they pleased.

"I took that doll with me everywhere I went. I brushed her hair, made sure all her dresses were clean and beautiful. When her paint chipped, I made my father's craftsmen repaint her as if nothing had happened"

Her hands found your clothes nipples now, rubbing her thumbs over them until the hardened and ached.

"Then, one day, my father informed me that I had grown to old for dolls. He made me throw her away with all her beautiful dressed, and I cried and protested but in the end the doll was gone." Cersei's hands came back to your shoulders, hugging you to her in a surprisingly tender embrace. She kissed down your next and back up again until she reached the shell of your ear.

"But now, my doll has come back to me, hasn't she?"

"I- yes, my queen" you agreed, not fully understanding but playing along.

"Hmmm" she cooed and looked you up and down in the mirror, pulling at your riding gown critically. "I don't like this dress on my doll."

You gasped as the skirt of your dress was sliced down the back. "Your Grace!"

"Shhh sh sh." Cersei hushed you, fingering the small blade she kept hidden in her sleeves, flashing the blade at you in the light. "Don't flinch now, I don't want to knick you"

You tried to keep as still as can be as the sound of blade cutting through wool filled the room and more and more of your body was exposed to the cool air. You jumped when the knife ripped open your bodice, earning you a sharp slap on the tit that stung wonderfully.

"Now look" Cersei forced you to look back into the mirror, hands once again traveling up and down your now exposed flesh. "Isn't that so much better?"

"Y-Yes, your grace" you closed your eyes to the slight but Cersei bit into your shoulder.

"Keep looking" she hissed, cupping your bare breast in both her hands and making you watch as she pinched and pulled your sensitive nipples.

Once a hot flush had filled your face and chest, Cersei pushed your legs apart with a growl. "Let me see" she taunted, slipping a hand down your back, affectionately toying with your bound wrists before you saw her clever hand appear between your legs in the mirror.

She stroked your folds softly, reveling in how quickly you got wet for her.

"When I do this" she stared into your eyes through the mirror, "I want you watching. I want you to see how beautiful you look getting fucked. If you stop watching, or if you close your eyes, I will punish you. Are we clear?"

"Yes, my queen" you were trembling by now, desperate for her to touch you and oddly intrigued by your own reflection.

The queens graceful fingers wasted no time dipping between your wet folds, gathering your wetness before slipping up to rub your clit. It was an usual experience, being forced to stand, forcing your knees not to buckle as she pinched the nub between two fingers and rubbed in circles.

"Eyes open" Cersei cracked her free hand against your ass and your eyes shot open instantly.

Once your knees were buckling, Cersei slipped three fingers inside of you. The intrusion almost made you double over, if she hadn't caught you by the hair and kept you standing.

"Remember to keep quiet this time sweetling," Cersei chuckled into your ear as you bit your lip to keep the moans from spilling out. "That's right, good girl."

The sting from your scalp meeting the relentless pleasure between your legs had you struggling to keep from falling off the edge, but you didn't. You wanted to keep going for as long as you could.

"My sweet girl, my little doll. I know your close" Cersei pressed, curling her fingers up into your g-spot. "You know, everyone had has the pleasure of watching that sweet little face of yours cum. Me, Jaime, your precious Hound."

She taunted you as you struggled against your bindings, the restraint becoming all too much.

"Everyone but you. Have you any idea how pretty you look, when your eyes roll back, sweating, flushed? It's fucking addictive."

The queen knew you were fighting it off, desperate to keep this going, to be the center of her frantic and cruelly pleasurable attentions.

"Stubborn little slut, aren't you?" she growled. "Fine then, you can't hold out forever"

The withdrawal of her hands felt like punishment and you sealed your mouth to muffle an involuntary sob that turned into a whine.

"Don't worry, doll." The queen dragged the chair from the writing desk to the mirror, pushing you down into it with a menacing grin

"You're not done until I say you're done"

--------------

It was the hour of the Rat when Sandor finally decided to look for you.

Neither you nor the queen had been to dinner, and you hadn't been seen for hours.

"I have an idea" Robert had grumbled, three sheets to the wind.

Approaching the highest floor of the inn, Sandor paused moment. It sounded like something had fallen with a dull thud.

Stripped of plate, he tried to be a quiet as possible as he drew closer. He didn't know why he had come, it's not like he didnt know what was going on behind that door.

Part of it, he presumed, tracked back to that night in camp when your cried of agony and pleasure had been the symphony of the night.

A siren's song.

He could hear that song again, but it was muffled now.

"Have you learned your lesson, sweetling?"

He strained to hear the response and sucked in a breath when the sound of flesh hitting flesh drew forth a drawn out moan.

"Too fucked out to answer? That's fine" The queen purred, "I wonder how your husband would feel seeing you like this? Blissed out, cunt swollen and drenched, ass bruised. Would he be disappointed by his little slut of a wife?"

The description alone has Sandor growing hard as his mind wandered.

"No, don't look so sad. I don't think so" Cersei's voice became something resembling encouraging. "I bet he'd find you just as beautiful as I do. Should we ask him? He's right outside."

Sandor's stomach dropped as the bedroom door squealed open and he stumbled back. Queen Cersei was draped only in a floor length silk robe, and from this angle it covered very little.

"Looking for your wife?"

The Hound's mouth went dry and silent as the queen chuckled at his embarrassment.

"Come along, she's right this way."

The queen had never really spoken to him before, let alone touched him, so it was strange when she grabbed his large hand with her lithe one and pulled him into the bedroom, closing the door firmly.

You were probably more beautiful now than he had ever seen you.

Laid out on the bed like a girl from the gods. Your arms stretched above your head and held in place by a leather strap exposed the whole of your body for his eyes to feast on. Your nipples were puffy and lightly bruised, shining with saliva to match the swollen lips of your cunt. Your eyes were screwed shut as if trying to block out everything in the world, trying to bring yourself back to earth, and your hair was fanned out in the pillows behind you like a halo.

"What do you think Clegane?" The queen prompted you. "Do you think she's had enough?"

He blinked hesitant, entirely unsure how to interact with the royal in this situation.

"Don't be shy" Cersei moved across the room, pouring herself a cup of wine then offering his some. He accepted.

She sat next to you on the bed, removing the bindings at your wrists and offering you a sip from her wine cup. "Darling? Your knight is here for you. He got worried, isn't that sweet?"

Your eyes settled on him over the rim of the cup and before he could argue you were pulling him by the hands towards the bed.

"Darling" you cooed into his ear. "Sweet husband. My love, please hold me" you begged him in a voice so sweet it would have killed him to deny you.

He swept you up carefully, melting as your curled your face into his chest sighing.

"One moment now" Cersei pulled a loose frock from a chest. "You can't very well walk her through the inn like that."

Carefully she helped you slip into the dress. It was as if you were drunk, only there was no smell of wine or beer on you. You stumbled occasionally, leaning on either your husband or your lover to catch yourself.

"Goodnight sweetling" Cersei killed your mouth firmly, then your forehead. "Go on now"

Clegane moved to pick you up again but as he bent down he froze. Cersei pressed her soft lips against his gently, almost chastely if he hadn't smelt the distinct scent of sex on her.

"Be good to her" she leaned into his ear, hand pressed against his shoulder, "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

By now you were able to walk, and the bliss filled fog that had clouded your mind was clearing.

"We should go" you urged them, pulling your shell shocked husband gently. "Before the king catches us"

"She's right" Cersei agreed, "a woman is one thing, but if Robert thinks I've pulled you into this that's all our heads"

Rushing out into the night, you gasped as Sandor pressed you against a wall when you turned the corner. His kiss was insistent and fierce, hands cupping your jaw firmly.

"Darling." You sighed into his mouth, "did you miss me that much?"

He breathed heavily, trying to figure out what to say. "Is it always like that?"

You laughed and shook your head "I think she was just in a really good mood"

"I may have to learn a thing or two from our queen" Sandor growled, "You looked like an angel laid out like that."

His hips pressed against you hard, grinding slightly and you smiled tiredly. "Darling, I dont think I have it in me to go again"

He grumbled in disappointment but moved to free you until your hands gripped his hips.

"But, my throat feels just fine"

[trennoandgreggo]

I MISSED HIM SOOOOO MUCH 🥰🥰🥰😭😭😭🤧

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Wait hold on- I need to hear more about cersei flipping her lid after finding out about Joanna-Lookalike reader getting married and is pregnant. Like I just imagine Cersei rocking up to winterfell all excited to see her bby after she was ripped away from her and just seeing her daughter heavily pregnant (like days away from giving birth), and just freezing for like a solid minute just trying to comprehend wtf has happened, before snapping out of it and demanding who defiled her sweet daughter and who dared put a bastard in her, and everyone's in winterfell is like 'bish tf what u talking about they got married', because everyone was under the belief that the lannisters knew and just didn't want to go to the wedding.

Tw: Mentions of pregnancy and death during child birth

Oh my gods- Cersei pulling up to Winterfell only to act like a complete fool in front of everyone and Robert’s just busting his ass laughing?? It would no doubt happen like that too.

Not to mention that Robb would be attached to the hip of Joanna!lookalike, especially if she were so far along in her pregnancy. He’s on one side. Greywind’s on the other helping and keeping a watchful eye out for every step the Reader takes. So, when Cersei’s realization hits her she would immediately know that Robb was the one to have ‘defiled’ her bby.

Also, I can’t help but imagine Cersei trying to get a good look at them after having been away for so long only for all the direwolves to protectively get between her and the Reader. Not to mention that Joanna!lookalike has her lion there too. So just imagine six direwolves and one lion staring down Cersei. She would be so infuriated, especially given that she sees Robb as more of the actual threat than she ever could pose to her own child.

I also imagine Tywin being in attendance too since he also wouldn’t have seen his precious grandchild after so long. And he would be just as upset if not more so, the only difference is his reaction comes out a lot more calm and collected than Cersei’s. It’s safe to say though that Robert is getting two fucking earfuls from them.

Myrcella and Tommen would be so incredibly happy not only to see their beloved sibling but also to know that she’s married and with child. They of course would be upset that they couldn’t have been at the wedding and witnessed it themselves but they’re happy nonetheless. Joffrey would be utterly horrified, both seeing his sister so very pregnant and at the fact that they got married without his knowledge. He’d pick a fight with Robb about that too.

It’s not too much to speculate that everyone would have their hands on Joanna!lookalike’s belly. Especially the younger Stark kids and Robb himself but once House Lannister pulls up their hands would be even more glued the Reader’s pregnant belly. Myrcella and Tommen are the first to want to touch it and feel the baby kick. Cersei and Tywin would be the last to do so. Imagine Robb and the Stark’s reactions to the Mountain touching the Reader’s belly with his big ass meat glove of a hand, even if the Reader was the one to insist Gregor do so.

Back to Cersei, she would be hit with an overwhelming amount of anxiety upon seeing her child not only pregnant but how far along she is and that she’s up and about when she should be bedridden. Cersei would immediately want to get her child to a chair or to their room after she’s been able to process everything. Hell, she would command the Mountain to carry the Reader around, particularly have him carry her back to her bedchambers where she should be staying. Cersei would have no plans of leaving Winterfell until her grandchild is born and she will be in the room during the delivery. Poor Joanna!lookalike will have Cersei on one side and a Robb on the other while she’s in the midst of giving birth. And Cersei will be glaring daggers at Robb the entire time, blaming him for doing this to her beloved daughter.

Also, while she’s still in the middle of acting like a fool, Cersei would no doubt demand that Jaime or the Mountain (yeah cause Gregor’s there too) kill Robb for ‘defiling’ the Reader and putting a ‘bastard’ in her. And also for basically giving the Reader a death sentence if she weren’t to make it out of the delivery alive.

[the-oc-lass]

EVERYONE WHO MISSES TECH, PLEASE STAND

Because Dave Filoni really looked at us and said “FUCK YOUR TECH DREAMS!”

Tech did not return and I am screaming.

Anyway, please enjoy Tech and a Baby

Crosshair and a Baby

Wrecker and a Baby

Gregor and a Baby

Echo and a Baby

Full fic below the cut in case you don't want to go to Ao3:

Tech isn’t what you would call a “baby guy.” Babies are illogical and can’t be reasoned with. At least once they reach a certain age, you can start communicating and getting some understanding out of them. Unfortunately for Tech, baby Echo “Ec” Yothia is still just that: a baby. None of this is to say that Tech doesn’t love Ec because, no, no, he does. He just tends to find himself a little…Uncertain when it comes to the child. He prefers to simply observe others interacting with him rather than truly engaging with the child himself. 

So, of course, he would find himself in this situation. Ec’s mother, Rayona, has been working herself incredibly hard for the clone rebellion. As the acting pseudo-General and one of two resident Jedi, she takes what she does very seriously. She’s worked herself so hard, in fact, that Echo, as their resident Rayona-specialist, has taken it upon himself to start enforcing nap times for her. This is fine. Usually, it’s Echo or one of the other Bad Batch squad members that sit or lay with her to make sure she actually rests, some even resorting to lying on top of her. The problem is, Rex has Hunter and Wrecker helping him with a job and Crosshair is preoccupied with Omega. Apparently, Rayona is extra unwilling today, so Echo said it would be best for him to enforce nap time. Which leaves Tech with the baby. 

“Are you absolutely certain that you cannot come and watch over him? I am not equipt for the caretaking of an infant,” he says into his comm. He can hear Crosshair laughing on the other side of the transmission, but it’s Omega who answers. 

“Sorry, Tech. Crosshair and I are busy with Plaa and Ky right now.” Ah, of course. Rayona’s Jedi friend and her padawan/adopted daughter. Crosshair has taken a rather keen interest in them. “Have you asked any of the others?” 

“I have accounted for everyone else in the base. They are all either busy or not currently able to properly watch over Ec. While I am not equipped to care for him, I will not pass Ec off to someone who has more pressing matters to attend to. His safety is prioritized over my own comfort,” Tech says. He adjusts his goggles slightly. “I will attend to him. Thank you for your help, Omega.” 

“Good luck, Tech!” With that cheerful send-off, Omega is gone and Tech is once again alone with his thoughts and the infant. Ec stares up at him with big brown eyes, taking a moment before he smiles and reaches up toward Tech’s face, gurgling. His hand waves toward Tech’s eyes in particular, and Tech quickly deduces that he must be able to see his reflection in Tech’s goggles. He shifts the child away slightly, hoping to avoid getting any small fingerprints on his goggles. After taking a few moments to consider what he could possibly do with the child, he comes up with an idea. 

For the time being, Tech sets up Ec’s feeding chair near his workstation and places Ec in it. This will allow him to monitor the child but will prevent Ec from possibly grabbing something he shouldn’t. With Ec out of his lap for the moment, Tech is able to work on his latest project. It is, however, a project for Ec. A common problem is that Ec constantly needs to be held since there aren’t many good places to put him down. Tech has been working on a solution for that. Simply put, a hovering pram for Ec to rest in. It would make it easier to transport him around while still having one’s arms free. Tech decided to fit it with an energy shield, should the day ever come when they need to move the baby through an active battlefield. He also asked about mounting small automatic turrets to shoot anyone not in a specific scan-related database, but Rayona had very quickly nixed that idea. Despite his well-cited argument about the turrets keeping Ec safe, she’d argued that it was “too dangerous” for the rest of them. A rather preposterous concern, if you ask Tech, but he went along with Rayona’s wishes. She is Ec’s mother and Tech respects her too much to go against her will. It’s easy for him to focus all his attention on the project in front of him…At first. After approximately three minutes and thirty-six seconds, Ec begins to babble. Tech ignores him at first. He can’t expect the infant to be quiet, after all. They’re only quiet when they sleep. However, it quickly becomes clear that Ec is seeking attention and Tech looks over at him. 

“Yes?” he prompts, though he knows Ec won’t respond. Ec giggles and smiles at him, and Tech adjusts his goggles as he considers what to do. Ec seemed pleased that Tech spoke to him, which makes sense considering that infants recognize the sounds of speech. After Rayona had Ec, Tech also read that speaking to infants helps their cognitive development, meaning they’re able to acquire speech and language skills sooner. Perhaps he could help move that process along. Yes, that solution will do nicely. Tech pulls the feeding chair a little closer to his side, turning it slightly so that Ec can watch him work. “Now, Ec, while I understand that you do not currently have the capacity to understand me, I assure you that listening to me will help with your mental development. Now, as you can see, I’m currently wiring together the necessary controls to activate and deactivate the energy shield over the body of the pram. Once that is complete I will finish calibrating the repulsorlift and set it to the inner shell, which will allow your pram to hover, therefore making you easier to transport. I should also incorporate a sensor so that the pram can be summoned from a distance, and the sensor can be synced to your mother and-” 

“Why are you sayin’ all that to him?” Tech lifts his head from his work, turning to look over his shoulder. Ah, it seems that Wrecker and Hunter have returned. Tech adjusts his goggles again. 

“I had read that speaking to an infant helps with their mental development, especially when it pertains to speech skills,” he says. Wrecker blinks, clearly confused, and Tech sighs. “If I continue to talk to Ec, it is likely that he will learn to talk more quickly.” Now Wrecker’s eyes widen with understanding. 

“Oh. I get it. But why all that…Smart stuff? Doesn’t he want to hear about baby stuff?” he asks. Tech glances at Ec, who he finds looking back at him. When Tech’s eyes land on him, Ec smiles and babbles slightly. Tech smiles slightly in satisfaction before looking back at Wrecker.

“I believe my ‘smart stuff’ is plenty entertaining for Ec. Perhaps he will retain some of it and someday have an intellect matching my own,” he says, perhaps just a little proudly. Hunter appears at Wrecker’s side, helmet held against his hip. 

“Does that mean you don’t want us to take him? Omega mentioned that you weren’t sure what to do with him,” he says. Tech once again looks down at Ec, who is still smiling at him. 

“No. He may remain with me,” he says after a moment. Hunter shrugs, then gestures to Wrecker with his head. The two leave and Tech turns back to his project, though not without briefly brushing some of Ec’s hair back. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes. I should consider making some sort of gauntlet or chip to ensure that your pram can be summoned to…”