#Tyrion Lannister one shot

[fandom-puff]

It's absolutely fine if you are not comfortable with it, but could I please request happy, tipsy sex with Tyrion Lannister? Preferably with an established relationship? Again no pressure if that doesn't work, thank you! xx

Thank you for your request- hope you enjoy!!

Tipsy

Pairing: Tyrion Lannister x reader

Warning: drunk sex (both Tyrion and reader are at the same level of tipsiness; neither is blackout drunk), alcohol consumption

Gif creds to owner

“More wine, my lady?”

You nodded and with a grin held out your goblet for Tyrion to fill, not moving until he had filled it to the brim, making Bronn laugh.

It had been a pleasant evening; a new shipment from Dorne had come into King’s Landing, and Tyrion had a few bottles of the finest Dornish red brought up to his chamber. Between you, him, Bronn and Podrick, you had cleared off nearly all of the bottles and the effects were beginning to show. Podrick was slumped in his chair, dozing with a small smile on his face, the occasional snore sounding from him. Bronn had started to slur and put a ‘fuck’ or a ‘cunt’ in every other sentence.

And you and Tyrion had been eye-fucking each other for the best part of an hour.

Tyrion drained his cup before setting it down. “Bronn, Podrick, leave us,” he said suddenly, his eyes never leaving yours.

Bronn kicked Pod’s leg. “Come on, lad. Else you’ll end up watching your Lord fuck his lady,”

Any other time you would’ve shot the sellsword an indignant look… but right now you had eyes only for your Lion of Lannister, but when the door slammed shut, it was you who pounced, your lips pressing to his in a feverish kiss.

“My, my, sweet YN,” Tyrion groaned between kisses. “It seems the Dornish gets you hot,”

You tugged on his lower lip, your fingers knotting in his hair, one hand trailing down to the straining bulge at the front of his breeches. “Should say the same for you, Husband,” you murmured, voice low and sultry, your hand closing around his cock. Tyrion watched with amusement and longing as you fumbled with the strings of his breeches, releasing his pulsing cock and taking it (albeit clumsily) into your mouth.

“YN,” he rasped, tugging at your hair until you released him with a lewd, wet noise. “I won’t last long in your pretty mouth,” you pouted up at him, your lips slightly swollen. “I’d much rather spill my seed in your tight little cunt,”

He laughed at how quickly your face brightened, and he pulled you up from the floor. You grinned, pushing him back on the plush couch, squealing as he reached up and tore the bodice of your dress, admiring the swell of your breasts as he tugged at the strings of your corset. Soon you were stripped bare, straddling him on the couch. He grasped at your thighs as you lowered yourself to his cock, his fingers fluttering through your wetness briefly. He grunted as his tip slid between your folds, before your plunged him deep inside you with a throaty moan.

“Gods,” he groaned as you rode his cock. “Oh, Gods,”

“Now’s not the time for prayer, my Lord,” you reminded him. “Unless, of course, you want to fuck me in the Great Sept of Baelor,”

Your words spurred Tyrion on, and he met your movements with thrusts of his own, and he relished in the way your eyelids fluttered. “Such-ah- blasphemy, my sweet wife,” Tyrion groaned, “wine turns you into quite the little harlot it seems,”

“Tyrion,” you moaned out, gripping onto his shoulders for leverage, and he smiled as he felt your movements stutter. “Tyrion, please,”

“Too focused on my cock to listen to me, Hmm?” Tyrion teased, pinching your nipple. “Come for me then, YN, let me feel you,”

You would’ve came with or without his bidding, your cunt fluttering around his thick cock as you cried his name, your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his orgasm quickly following yours as he filled your clenching pussy with his seed. “Fuck, YN, good girl,” he praised, and as you fell forward onto his chest, he smiled, kissing the top of your head.

Clumsily, you managed to make it to bed (tripping over an empty bottle along the way) and into your Lion’s arms. Your head would ache on the morrow, but the ache in your thighs would be worth it.

[bellarkeselection]

Can you do a tyrion short where y/n and meet in winterfell after he found out he was to marry her and he talks to her about how he will be a good husband. And he finds out that she was the one that requested she marry him ?

You Were My Choice

Tyrion was stunned when he got the news from Lord Stark that he was to be wed off to one of his daughters. The eldest behind Robb and was more like her brothers and Arya then her middle sister Sansa. He eventually found her room after getting lost in some of the halls of the Northern castle where he softly knocked three times before someone opened the door making him at a loss for words for a few seconds. I paused in the doorway staring at the tiny dwarf standing before me. “Lord Tyrion, I didn’t expect you to come find me so quickly. I was just going to come down to the feast for the king.” He nodded gesturing his hand in between us clearly struggling to say what words next. Across the kingdom he was known for always knowing what to say. “My lady I - uh thought it would be better if we met first. Since we are to be wed and most don’t meet until that night. I didn’t want that…”

“I didn’t want that either Tyrion. But there’s something I want to tell you too.” I smiled taking his hand in mine leading him onto my bed pulling him to sit down beside me. The ends of my dress lifted up revealing the horse riding boots that I always wore rather than any tight dress shoes like my sister. Putting my hands together in my lap my eyes staring into his green ones. His curly blonde hair a mess on his head. “Well I have something to tell you first lady Y/n. I know that I couldn’t have been your first choice for a husband. But we will be married regardless. I want you to know as your husband I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to, I will be an equal to you and not overstep my bonds. Even I am not the husband of your choice I’ll treat you with respect.” I giggled seeing him raise his brows not expecting to see me smiling at him this way.

The rumors that I heard were that he loved wine and girls. He was viewed as a little beast by most people because of his size except to me. I wasn’t into men that focused on their looks. A person’s mind can do much more damage and mean so much more. “Forgive me lady Y/n. But I don’t understand what is amusing about what I am saying.” Grabbing his hands in mine I tilted my head with a bright grin. “You said that you wouldn’t be someone’s first choice. You are wrong Tyrion. I asked my father if I could marry you. Because I don’t believe all the bad tales about you. I choose to lisen to the good ones.” Tyrion smiled squeezing my hands intertwined with his. “I’d choose you any day Y/n.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[cass-foxx]

Why do you love him? // Tywin Lannister & Masc! Reader

Little note : This is platonic as for this one, Tywin is more seen as a father figure :] Also sorry in advance for any mistakes, English isn't my mother tongue haha. Hoping this will do better than on w*ttpad 0-0 I always use they/them pronouns for (Y/N) regardless of their gender.

Also I only read the first book and watched the show some time ago, therefore I apologise for any innacuracies.

~~~

Tyrion was jealous of (Y/N). The young wanderer was sitting next to Tywin Lannister, joyfully talking while eating. The father Lannister was listening to him, amused by the witty remarks of the young boy.

Tyrion refocused his attention on his food. Yes he was jealous. Since his lord father openly showed the world that he considered the young wanderer as his child and took them under his wing, Tyrion couldn't help but feel contempt towards the boy. Contempt he felt ashamed about since (Y/N) has actually been the only one treating him with respect and friendliness.

Tyrion's gaze went towards (Y/N) again. The news of them being taken under Tywin's wing has been so easily accepted. And who could blame them? The 18 years old boy was everything like a Lannister. Often they did relevant remarks that helped Tyrion's lord father during battle strategy, showing great knowledge about the battlefield and politics. The crimson colour of the Lannisters fits them perfectly and even with their small height, they had a certain charisma that made people respect them. Their sword skills were unmatched, truly impressive for their age and they had green eyes where little shades of gold could be seen when the sun shined through.

There was just one thing that screamed that (Y/N) would never be a true Lannister outside of their blood. It was their hair. Dark charming brown hair that looked as an oak's bark.

When Tyrion saw his lord father trying to repress a smile to (Y/N)'s observations, he left the table, not feeling hungry at all.

It was cold outside the tent, wind howling greatly. Tyrion walked, letting his little legs lead him where they wanted, unsure himself where to go.

He found an oak - what a coincidence - and decided to sit nearby. Nobody must have notice that he left except (Y/N) perhaps if they weren't too busy entertaining everyone in the tent with their japes.

As if to answer his question, Tyrion heard light footsteps coming towards him. "I saw you leaving and thought you might want this" said a friendly voice that could only belong to the wanderer. They were holding a loaf of bread, a gentle smile on their face. "No thank you. I am not hungry" replied Tyrion but his stomach growled, betraying him. 

"Reflex". (Y/N) threw the bread and Tyrion barely managed to catch it. No more words were exchanged but after a long eye contact, Tyrion decided to take a bite, reliving the hunger that was starting inside him. There was something behind (Y/N)'s green golden eyes that commanded Tyrion to eat.

After a moment where both men stared at each other, Tyrion decided to break the silence. "So what do you want?"

"Can't I just come because I wanted to provide you something to eat?"

"Yes you could but I can see that you want to ask me something. When it comes to hiding your excitement, you're not very good at it."

Indeed, (Y/N)'s legs were slightly trembling, betraying their intent as Tyrion pointed out.

"I was wondering if you have been able to guess what for." The boy sat down.

"No so please tell so we can be done with it."

"I want you to ask Tywin why he decided to take care of me"

Tyrion swallowed a piece of bread the wrong way and started couching.

"You want to do what? Do you seriously think that he will accept to tell me this?"

"He clearly won't but you're the only one who is intelligent enough to make Tywin admit something."

Tyrion could see a kind of desperation behind the wanderer's eyes. Yet pride was still seen throughout their expression.

"Well what do you want me to make him admit?" asked Tyrion

"I want to know if Tywin is taking care of me because he likes me or because he wants to use me."

This took Tyrion off-guard. He never thought of Tywin using the young boy for his own good yet it made much more sense than his lord father growing a heart. He realised how much his jealousy made him blind and felt even more stupid for it.

"I guess I could try to find out." He said slowly.

"Thank you Tyrion!" (Y/N) said joyfully. "Obviously this must have a price so tell me. What do you want to receive for such awful task?-"

"Actually... nothing."

"Naturally. Naturally... Wait what?" The boy looked at him in disbelief. Tyrion couldn't help but feel amused. It is not everyday that one can see (Y/N) taken off-guard.

"Nothing I said. I am actually curious as well." This was the truth. He wondered what the wanderer had that none of his siblings and him had to make his lord father grow so called affection.

"Should we do it now?" Tyrion asked

"Do it whenever you want. I can wait." They replied. They stood up and slightly bowed their head, a gesture that Tyrion had learned to understand over the months. It was their way to say thank you. The boy left and Tyrion took his time to finish his bread, not that excited to meet his lord father.

Once the bread finished, to what Tyrion made sure to eat slowly, he decided that what must be done must be done. He stood up and went towards Tywin's tent.

Inside, he realised how cold it has become outside. His father was standing there, watching a map set on the table. From the corner of his eye, he saw his son but acted as if no one came in. "Good evening father."

Tywin just nodded his head as a response.

"Everyone seem to keep talking about this wanderer. After all he is charismatic-"

"Witty and interesting." Tywin cut."Skip the compliments and go directly to your point."

"Aren't you worried that people may starts to ask questions?"

"Why would I? It's not like their opinions matter at all."

"One may wonder if you have soften over the years."

Tywin finally stopped looking at his map to directly stare at his son.

"One may wonder if Tywin Lannister softened so much to the extent that he should no longer be consider a danger to the others... Since, after all, he decided to show affection to a nobody."

His lord father straightened up, irritated. "Don't you dare-"

"Have you soften?"

"Shut up-"

"Have you gotten so soft that you started getting weak?!"

"Tyrion I told you to!-"

"Did the great Tywin Lannister had gotten so weak that he decided to take care of a random sheep-"

"It's because they remind me of your mother!"

Tyrion stopped, taken aback. He did expect many answers but that was not one of them. Tywin sat down, tired. Even when he looked like a tired old man, he still had this terrifying aura that commanded respect.

"They what?" Tyrion only managed to say.

"They remind me of your mother." Tywin repeated softer, done, as if admitting it have taken all his energy away. Tyrion sat down on a chair nearby, still not fully recovered from the shock. He still managed to crack a "That is disgusting".

"You know this is not what I meant" replied his lord father, irritated. He sighed before continuing "They have these little sparkles in their eyes that reminds me so much of her."

Tyrion listen attentively. He didn't know much about his mother and it wasn't every day that his lord father decided to talk about her.

He dared to ask "What do you mean by little sparkles?"

"They have this innocence and joyfulness. Exactly like her. They have this power to bring warmth to one just by speaking to them. Don't you dare say that this wrong because you know it damn well."

And indeed, Tyrion knew to what his father was referring to. (Y/N) was always able to make one feel loved. And this is why his lord father meant by the little sparkles. Because (Y/N) loves unconditionally. Unless you hurt them or the ones they care about, they will always treat you with respect and friendliness. A quality that usually means death but for some reasons, the boy has survived that long. This innocence to always see the best in others, even after seeing the worst of this world.

"I know it yes. Truly something rare."

Tywin didn't answer but his silence showed that he agreed.

"I like to believe that if she had been alive to be with you all...You would perhaps have the same view on this world than she did."

This was the second time that his father surprised him. This was a rare if not unique instance where his lord father seemed to have open his so called heart. It felt strange.

Tyrion decided that it was time to leave. He stood up and went towards the exit before stopping just in front of it. He then turned to face his father once again and said "I never, not even for one second, connected loving someone with being weak" before leaving the tent.

~~~

Hope you guys liked it and that Tywin and Tyrion weren't too ooc

[fromtheseventhhell]

It’s almost 2024 and Lannister posts are still like:

Cersei is a drunk, stupid, lazy, crazy, fat, ugly bitch who is exactly like her rapist and abuser 😡 (but did Bobby B really raped and abused that whore ??)

Poor Jaime everyone is so mean to him cause he killed Aerys and saved everyone and his bitch sister won’t break her back to accommodate his every whim 😥 But I know brienne will 😁

There are no Lannister stans, only male centered Jaime stans.

Misogyny is so crazy cause Cersei is one of the best-written characters in the books and genuinely has the complexity + nuance that Jaime stans (*cough*dick-riders*cough*) swear he has but since she's a female character, she gets reduced to a prop in his story. Minimally satisfying is the fact that even when they demonize her to hell and back, they can't find any way to make him seem interesting without bringing her up. His "redemption arc" is just his stans going "Doesn't he look so much better in comparison to Cersei?" and pretending that being in Brienne's proximity will magically purify him. The irony of people (i.e. his misogynistic stans) largely reducing him to his relationships with two female characters isn't lost on me. If they didn't hate women so much they could just enjoy Cersei's character, but I guess they like settling for crumbs of character development.

[loggiepj]

To Love A Lannister

chapter 12 | chapter 13

Long golden blonde hair. Captivating green eyes as green as the grass in the meadows back in Dorne or from the Reach. Her laugh. Her voice.

Her voice. Agitated. Hurt. Lonely.

I love you.

The first time you stirred awake, it was some time in the evening. You could tell from the darkness in the room, with only the light from the candles lit on your table helping your vision. And as if triggered on, the pain all around your body made itself known.

You let out a small groan, stopped short when you could feel movement on your left. Craning your head to look, you could see someone with golden hair sleeping with her head on her arms.

Cersei. No, it couldn't be her. Because the woman beside you was holding your left hand tight in hers as she slept. And Cersei was not known to be that affectionate. Surely, you were not that worthy to be cared for by the Queen Mother.

Another pain shot up in your head, making you grunt and shut your eyes.

"Y/n?" Cersei's sleepy voice made through your ears before darkness has taken you once again.

~~~

It was day time the next time you were awake. Cersei wasn't there with you, making you think if you had only been dreaming about her.

Instead, there were Oberyn and Ellaria, welcoming you with full smiles on their faces. You could no longer feel any pain in your body. In fact, you were feeling elated, as if you were floating.

"Wa. . . Water," you managed to croak out. Ellaria hurriedly helped you up to give you a tiny sip of water. You had never felt your mouth so dry since the last time you made that silly expedition to Braavos as an act of rebellion against your father.

You looked around the room, looking for a certain woman that had been haunting your dreams. "Cersei?"

Ellaria chuckled. "She left for the Maester."

Oberyn snorted another laugh. "You just woke up from defeating the Mountain and the first two things you look for are water and Cersei."

You smiled from ear to ear, as you raised your arm before you, forefinger tracing the ceiling. "I feel like I'm . . . I'm flying."

"Qyburn has given you milk of the poppy for the pain," Oberyn said. "Probably a lot, I guess."

Eventually, your eyelids droop to a close as you went back into deep sleep, still smiling.

~~~

It was Tyrion who visited the chambers next when you woke up the third time. He was reading from a scroll when he noticed you stir awake.

"Lady Y/n," Tyrion said, climbing over a small ladder to see you. "The one who finally beat the Mountain."

You softly chuckled, a dull pain in your head.

"I'm forever in your debt, Lady Y/n," he went on. "Whatever you need, I'll do everything I can to give you."

"Water?" you suggested.

Tyrion only laughed as he helped you drink from a water goblet.

"You know . . . I was wrong."

You glanced at him, your mouth too weak to utter, as you lay back on the bed.

"I thought my sister will never be able to care for someone other than her children. I swore there was one time she almost beheaded one of the handmaidens who took care of you," he chuckled before he went silent, his eyes on the golden necklace with a lion pendant laid on the bedside table. Cersei's necklace. "But I believe you're no longer obliged to marry her, given the news about you offering Yronwood to set you both free from the marriage. Gone are the days of torment."

It made you feel sadness. You had no idea why. It was you who had fully decided to offer it to Tywin the first place. "H-How did she react?"

He only shrugged his shoulders. "I can tell she was a bit taken aback. But I haven't always been able to read Cersei growing up. She doesn't let her emotions show. You don't have to worry though, the future is not yet written. Just take a rest now."

~~~

Oberyn was there to visit you some time later, after Qyburn had changed the dressings of your wound. Apparently, you had broken some of your ribs and there were some bones disalignment, but none the Maester couldn't handle.

Taking advantage of the privacy, Oberyn began discussing to you in whispers that you'd be heading to Dorne soon and that he had something to show you about your birthright.

A lot had happened the time you were asleep. Stannis was executed by the Boltons, led by Lord Ramsay of House Bolton, who was said to be married to Sansa Stark. You could tell luck hadn't been good to Sansa, as you heard tales about Ramsay being a much worse monster than Joffrey.

"Winter is coming," Oberyn said out of nowhere. Your eyes only widened. You knew what he was talking about. You had read about the White Walkers and heard myths about them, but you always thought it was only a drunkard's gossip.

"The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jon Snow, sent a raven to every Lords in Westeros," he continued, pulling a scroll from his pocket, the same one you saw Tyrion was reading. "He witnessed it firsthand. And I think it's urgent that we moved south as quick as possible, knowing north would be attacked first."

"But . . . We couldn't just leave—"

"She's not your obligation anymore, Y/n," he said, knowing you were referring to Cersei. "But the sooner you get home, the sooner we'll figure out what to do about your succession."

"What do you mean? Daenerys is the Queen."

"You're four years older than her. Your sister Daenerys was born in Dragonstone where your mother Rhaella was last seen, before Stannis . . . before Stannis executed them all."

You could only grit your teeth. "But I'm a bastard. I'm not the rightful heir."

Oberyn looked around the room to ensure it was empty before he went on, "Daenerys is the Queen, Y/n. We're not contesting to that. Do you know why the Martells was the last house to swear fealty to King Robert? It was because we always believe Targaryens are the rightful heirs to the Iron Throne. But whenever someone wants to get that throne, what awaits them?"

There was a small pause. "Death," Oberyn said, "It's going to be difficult for Daenerys to get back the Iron Throne, it might even kill her. That's why she would need you by her side. You're the last two living Targaryens."

~~~

You awoke alone some time that night. Hearing the door creak open, you turned to look at the intruder.

It was Cersei. When she noticed you awake, she hesitated to enter until she stepped forward then closed the door behind her.

And gods, she looked so beautiful, you thought you were already dead upon witnessing such beauty.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she approached the bed slowly.

"Like I just got beaten by the Mountain," you responded, giving her a weak smile.

She chuckled softly, reaching the side of your bed. Her laughter rarely contained genuine amusement, but not when around you.

"You have the most beautiful laugh I've ever heard," you said, making the Lannister woman meet your gaze. "I've been dreaming about it. Your face. Your eyes. . . Sorry, Maester Qyburn said there might still be after effects from the milk of the poppy."

Cersei laughed as her hand went to hold yours, before letting go, turning her head to avoid your eyes.

"Oberyn said you're leaving the day after tomorrow," she said.

"So I've been told," you confirmed. "Oberyn might be too proud to admit it, but I think he misses their children."

Cersei smiled back before her lips turned into a frown, her eyes meeting yours.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you offer Yronwood?"

You threaded your fingers with hers and she took them. "I . . . I just thought you've been tortured enough that you don't deserve this. You should be allowed to marry someone you love at least. Or not to marry anyone at all if you don't feel like it."

There was silence. Cersei then went to sit on the side of the bed, eyes glistening with tears. "Are you sure it's not just me you're avoiding?"

You lifted your other hand forward and cupped her face, thumb tracing the tear off her cheek. She leaned unto your touch, closing her eyes.

"I will always love you, Cersei," you declared. "But you don't have to love me back."

She opened her eyes slowly, meeting yours. And you could tell hers spoke of uncertainty and adoration.

~~~

"I just can't believe it." Oberyn had been staring at you for a while as you helped the crew of the Martell ship.

When you didn't bother answering, your uncle only laughed. You sighed and placed the crate you were carrying on the floor. "What?"

"Y/n Martell," he announced proudly. "The one who finally killed the Mountain. The one who obtained justice for her aunt and cousins' death. I'm sure your father would be proud."

You forced a smile his way as you went back to what you were doing. You were sailing back home that day. Tywin had agreed to trust the Martells after the trial that almost got yourself killed.

Yet, you weren't sure what to expect back home. Oberyn told you there was something he'd show about your birthright. And with the fact you now knew Prince Doran was your real father, it didn't sit well on you how he'd react if he knew the truth.

With Trystane being your half brother, who you only heard from Ellaria that morning was engaged to Cersei's daughter, Princess Myrcella, things only got more complicated.

But that wasn't what you were sad about. It was because Cersei didn't show up and said her goodbyes to you when you left the palace. She wasn't even in the dining hall when you were all breaking the fast with the Lannisters, sending you blessings for your trip.

You didn't even get the chance to say goodbye. Not that she hadn't visited you since that night she cried on your bed with her hand in yours. The only souvenir you got was her necklace, hidden underneath your tunic. Cersei gave it to you that night, saying it was a gift from her mother, that it was special to her. And that was all you needed to know that you were special to her too.

You missed her terribly and you hadn't even left the Capital yet.

"Someone's going to get a farewell's kiss." Oberyn's voice brought you back to the present, making you straighten your posture and glare back at the Dornishman.

Oberyn then motioned his head behind you. And when you turned to glance, there she was, in her red flowing dress and golden hair elegantly braided. Cersei was heading your way, with what appeared were knights, handmaidens and servants trotting along behind her.

You bowed and greeted her when she reached the deck. "Your Grace."

"Lady Y/n," she said with a smile. "Prince Oberyn. I apologize for such a short notice but Tommen has advised me to visit Myrcella following the news of her engagement with Prince Trystane. A daughter will always need her mother's counsel, whether her suitor is good enough for her or not." Cersei's eyes were on your neck, the golden chain of her necklace visible. "Besides, it'll be nice to see Myrcella. I haven't seen her for a long time now."

Your eyes never left Cersei, stunned about what she said. Is she telling you she's going with you to Dorne?

When Oberyn nudged your arm, you finally snapped out of trance. "Yes, yes, we will set you a cabin, Your Grace."

Cersei thanked you before walking past you both, her perfume lingering around. Her servants, handmaidens and queensguard followed her through the ship, your eyes expecting a certain tall golden haired man with a fake gold hand.

"Where's Ser Jaime?" you couldn't help but ask.

"He couldn't come," Cersei replied as she turned back to you, giving you a somewhat mischievous smile before she let herself be led by one of the Dornish crew to her cabin.

[catsteeth]

Hii, I love your writings❤️ Can you write Podrick Payne and the fem reader? The reader is a Jon's twin sister, the Queen in the North. And Podrick has been in love with her for years, from the moment he first saw her. The reader is aware of the situation from the beginning, and when they meet again in the North at the end of the road, she notices once again how Podrick looks at her, but the only difference is that he is not a child anymore.☆

Growing Pains🍎

A/N: Thank you sm angel baby! Now this is what I AM TALKING ABOUT!!! Girl hell yes I can… I love this concept but I am going to take some liberties with the timelines and when Podrick is introduced in the story but let's all just sit back and have fun. You didn’t specify if you wanted smut but girls just wanna have fun so I did it anyway (there will be a cut off so you know when it's coming if you wanna stop reading beforehand) Hope you enjoy it and thank you for the request!! CW: SMUT MDNI, fuff, pining, mention of prostitution, mention of alcohol, fingering, grinding,

You had a hard go of it in life. 

Being the bastard of Ned Stark and the twin of Jon Snow. Having the last name of Snow swayed every person's opinion of you. Except for one, Podrick. A squire of little influence. When he and his Lord Tyrion visited the North with the rest of the Lannister and Baratheon family, he found himself enamored with you.

At first he thought it was because of your fair beauty. Your skin had a glow to it, your eyes as well. 

As the Stark family lined up to greet the royal family you and Jon were standing behind them. An embarrassment to the family but an open embarrassment nonetheless.

As you stood there, you studied all the knights and kings guard that stood before you and your family. You thought some of them were handsome but none captured your interest really. 

That was until your brother Jon nudged you. 

“It would seem you’ve an admirer, dear sister.” He teased as you looked and saw a shorter boy with short brown hair. He was certainly a squire. As your eyes met his he looked away 

nervously. 

You looked back to Jon, “Merely a boy, Jon.” 

“Aye, as you are merely a girl.” He said with a smirk. You nudged him harder and gave him a cold and hard scowl, making him struggle to hold in laughter.

As Lord Tyrion descended from his carriage he stood beside Podrick while he waited for Robert and Nedd to be done with their reunion. However when he looked behind Nedd he noticed Nedd’s bastards giggling like children until Lady Catelyn shot them a glare that shut them up quickly.

However he also noticed how Podricks gaze was fixated on you. His face reveals how pathetically enamored he was with you. Tyrion chuckled to himself and then tugged on Podrick’s sleeve a few times until his attention returned to his Lord. 

“Yes, my Lord?” Podrick asked, 

“You are appointed to serve me, not Ned Stark's bastard daughter.” Tyrion said to Podrick in a teasingly scornful tone. “Is that who that is?” He asked his eyes to stay put on you.

Tyrion nodded, “(Y/N) Snow…” Tyrion spoke your name and to Podrick it sounded like poetry. He looked back over to you as Podrick mouthed your name back to himself. “A beautiful girl,” Tyrion said matter of factly. 

“Yes, yes she is.” Podrick nodded, still unable to tear his gaze away from you. 

“You know what they say about Northern girls?” Tyrion smirked as he looked up at Podrick, 

Podricks gaze finally looked back to Tyrion with a confused look, “No?” 

“Perhaps you’ll find out.” He said with a raised brow, making Podrick swallow hard.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Later that night during the feast you and Jon were turned away from the dining hall. It would be an insult to the royal family if you two were sitting in their field of vision. Gods forbid they were to see a bastard while they ate a meal that your family prepared for them. 

You were content to go to your chambers and wait out the feast before you’d sneak into the kitchen and eat whatever was left. But the plum tree had recently bloomed and it was too tempting for you to wait until the feast was over. 

Normally you’d convince Bran to climb the tree to pick you some but you were alone. So you did the next best thing, convince the next man you saw.

“Hello, kind ser. Could I trouble you for just a moment.” You said to a shadowed form nearby that was approaching. As it got closer you noticed it was the boy that was staring at you from the courtyard beside Lord Tyrion. 

“Yes, yes, my Lady, no trouble at all.” He said, stammering nervously as he walked closer toward you.

“I recognize you… I saw you today. You’re not a Northerner.” You said with narrow eyes.

“N-no, my Lady I am a squire to Lord Tyrion Lannister.”  He spoke softly and sweetly, but again, nervously.

“Huh, not a Ser then.” You furrowed your brows, examining the boy in front of you. Unsure if you could trust him or not. 

He shook his head, “And you’re (Y/N)... Daughter of Nedd Stark.” He was careful not to use the last name of Snow.

“I am.” You said strongly. 

“W-why are you not at the feast my lady?” 

“Lady Catelyn thought it might insult the royal family for me and my brother to be seated in their midst.” You explained 

“Why would she think that?” He asked genuinely, couldn’t understand you being hidden from anyone. 

“I am.. unsightly.” You tried to find the right word,

“I don’t think that is the word to describe you-” 

“A bastard… to put it simply.” You turned your mind back to the task at hand, unwilling to discuss the matter further. You looked up at the plums ripe on the tree behind you. “But nonetheless a bastard gets hungry just the same as anyone else.” You looked back at Podrick hoping he would get the hint. “Can't reach it though.” 

“Yes of course,” He said quickly as soon as he understood what it was you needed from him. 

You giggled to yourself as you watched him struggle to climb the tree. Just as he was about to pick the best one, his foot slipped and he fell out of the tree, with tons of plums following him. “Oof!” He grunted as he hit the ground and was covered in plums.

“Oh!” You shouted as you ran up to him. You couldn’t help but laugh as you kneeled beside him, “I am sorry, I do not mean to laugh!” You covered your mouth trying to conceal your amusement, 

He looked up at you with stars in his eyes, that could have been the fall but he was sure that you looked like you were made by the Gods themselves. “That’s alright,” He said softly with a dimwitted smile on his face. 

You kissed his cheek as a token of your appreciation, when you did he thought he might die. “I thank you.” You said as you grabbed a plum from his lap, making him blush, 

“Of-Of course my Lady,” He stammered,

You bit into the juicy plum, “I’m no Lady.” You stood and walked away. 

However, that wouldn’t be the last time the two of you crossed paths. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

When Jon left for the nights watch and was to leave for Kings Landing with your sisters, Lady Catelyn made it clear she wanted you gone. So you went with your sisters, however in KingsLanding you worked as a handmaiden. 

But this did just give Podrick more of an opportunity to fawn over you. 

When given the chance, the two of you enjoyed each other's company. 

On one occasion you and Podrick got drunk off of his Lord Tyrion’s wine when you were alone. You threw cherries across a room while Podrick attempted to catch them in his mouth. 

Tyrion walked in when he heard the commotion and drunk laughter from the hallway. He could see the love in the drunk Podricks eyes clear as day. 

He felt slightly responsible for Podrick and offered him a gift of experience. He took Podrick to a pleasure house where he said  “If you’re going to take that bastard girl's maidenhead, you might as well know how to do it well.” 

“We are only friends, my Lord.” He stammered nervously,

“Unlikely it will stay that way.” He said as he left him alone with the three women.

That wouldn’t happen in Kings Landing however. After the execution of your father you traveled North to your Brother Jon.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Years later however, after a long and hard battle, figuratively and literally, you were an adored and respected figure in the North. So much so that you were named Queen. 

When you caught word that Podrick was on the grounds of Winterfell you felt an unexplainable urge to meet with him again. 

You saw him sparring with a man on the training grounds. You watched as this once frail and inexperienced boy fought with honor and precision. It made you feel a tightening in your stomach. You felt yourself losing your trail of thought as you watched him, until he noticed you.

“(Y/N)” He said with wide eyes, and then bam! His sparring opponent knocked him down while he was off guard, “Oof!” He tapped out, “Enough for today.” He hopped off the ground and ran over towards you, smiling, 

You smiled back, “You look different. Well, but different.” 

“You look the same.” He said catching his breath

You narrowed your eyes slightly as you smirked, “I’ll take that as a compliment,” He nodded, “It is.” His smile was almost contagious. 

“Who taught you?” You asked, trying to distract from the compliment. “Brienne of Tarth, I’ve come into her service after Lord Tyrion.”

“An improvement.” You nodded, “You fight well.” 

He bowed his head slightly “Thank you, your Grace.” 

“No need for such formality.” You waved your hand in dismissal, 

“Your Grace-” Someone of little interest to you at that moment spoke. Rushing you off to your regal duties. 

You couldn’t say your goodbyes before being rushed off. Just like last time. 

The rest of the day you spent thinking of him. Of how different things were now, how different you and he were, how much a man he’d grown into. 

It was only until that night when you had the opportunity to speak to him once more.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ 

As Tyrion, Jaime, and Brienne finished a drinking game, Tormund came in an attempt to court Brienne but of course was unsuccessful. As he faced the rest of the table in a defeated sorrowful look, Podrick smiled at him. 

As the Giant man left the table, Podrick looked back and noticed you. Once he saw you, his smile grew into a bigger and genuine one. 

“Walk with me?” You asked and he of course nodded. Leaving the table in haste, making Tyrion smirk.

The two of you walked around the grounds, that now with everyone in the tavern was empty.

As you walked around, he noticed the very same plum tree that he fell from all those years ago. The tree hadn’t bloomed yet but, he thought back on that memory so often he couldn’t have been mistaken. 

“Last time we were here you were here because you weren’t allowed in the dining hall. Now you own it.” He smiled at you, proud of your accomplishments. 

“And you were in the dirt covered in-” You said teasingly with a mischievous smile.

“Plums.” He said matter of factly

“You remember?” You asked genuinely surprised.

“Of course I do, I remember how you laughed at me.” He said teasingly as he chuckled.

“I apologized!” You giggled, 

“It’s alright, I liked hearing you laugh. And seeing you smile.” He smiled at you in a way that caused a heat to spread throughout your whole body.

“You’ve grown.” You couldn’t believe how much more bold and confident he had become.

“You’ve grown as well.” 

“People tend to do that.” You teased, 

“That’s true, and yet after all that time I couldn’t ever get you out of my head.” He thought about his journey and how often he missed you, “On our journey we always heard murmuring about you. The things you were doing. The wars you and your brother won. The triumphs and lows of it all.” He looked down trying to contain himself, “I thought of you often.”  

You felt a heat rush over your cheeks, “You were always a considerate friend.” You rationalized,  and paused for a moment before you looked over at him, “I thought of you often…” you smiled “As well.” 

“May I ask you something, and truly I don’t mean to offend-”

You raised an eyebrow. “Well this sounds interesting, go on.” You said smiling, 

“What of any… suitors?” He asked awkwardly,

You huffed a laugh and then shook your head, “No.” You looked over at Podrick who was already looking at you with a dumbfounded look, “What?” You giggled. “I apologize, I just find it hard to believe that.” 

“Well I’d not lie.” You smirked, 

“No, of course not. It’s just that you are…” He looked at you, “Mesmerizing.” He studied you for a moment, and then felt content to do what he had been meaning to do for so long, “You’ve always been mesmerizing.” He took your hand,

“What?” Your eyes narrowed as he kneeled in front of you.

“Ever since I saw you, I’ve never been able to release myself from this feeling. The way your hair shines, the way your eyes glow.” He looked up at you, at how beautiful you looked under that plum tree, in the moonlight. “Ever since you kissed me, even though it was just-” He reminisced on the memory for a moment, “A peck on the cheek,” He shook his head, “I couldn’t feel satisfaction from anything else. And what's worse is that- I don’t want to, I don’t want to feel satisfaction from anything but the satisfaction you bring to me. And ever since I have been back here the feeling is so much worse.” His grip on your hand tightened as he searched your eyes for a hint of your own emotions.

You shook your head, “I’m sorry.” You said, not sorry for not feeling the same but for not understanding your own emotions.

“I-” He looked down, confident he was defeated, “Forgive me.” 

“No,” You shook your head again, “Forgive me.” You held his face in your hands,

“For what?” He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion, and concern that he’d just ruined whatever relationship you two had had for good. 

“For ignoring my own feelings for you.” You held his face closer to your own, “I’ve been doing it for so long…” Your eyes were filled with a pining that you didn’t know you had, “Far too long” He leaned in even further, your eyes drooping slowly but not losing contact with him. Your noses brushing against one another. Your lips finally meet softly, hardly even touching. his hand came to cup your jaw as yours carcassed the back of his head. As you closed your eyes your lips parted slightly allowing him to kiss you deeper. 

nothing had ever felt so right. You knew then that you were born for him and he was born for you. 

♥️

he gripped your waist, pressing you closer to his own body. He walked you back into the tree so he could lean into you even more. 

“Gods” You whimpered into his lips, “You’ve gotten strong-“ your hands gripped at the muscles of his arms over his chainmail. 

“Is this alright,” He asked to which you nodded and continued to kiss his lips. 

The kiss somewhat restrained at first was now unhinged and desperate. His tongue met yours and you did not fight it, no you welcomed it. 

His hand traveled down your jaw to your breast, gripping at it through your bodice with hunger. He groaned into your mouth but soon enough he couldn’t restrain himself and his mouth traveled from your lips to your neck, to your breasts. They’d been a weakness of his for too long. “Gods” He groaned

“Tell me to stop and I will,“ His hand traveled up your inner thigh. His fingers, now rougher than they were before, stopped just before they reached your silk small clothes. His eyes looked into yours waiting for your que.

You looked at him, you ran your hand through his hair once more. His eyes met yours, desperate and hungry, no starving. You nodded at him, which made him smile and breathe a sigh of relief as his face returned to your breasts and his fingers began to run up and down the sensitive slit of your clothed cunt.

“Mmphm,” You moaned into his ear as his lips traveled over your cleavage.

His middle finger pressed against your hot damp entrance while his thumb moved in circles around your sensitive clit. 

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you whimpered from the pleasure. A pleasure so new. You’d used your own fingers or relieved yourself on a pillow before but this was different, a different game entirely.  

You felt him grinding his arousal on your thigh as he moved your small clothes away, pushing one finger inside of you, slowly. “Ah!” You jolted towards him, grabbing ahold of his back pressing him closer to you. 

He inserted another finger, pressing them deeper and deeper until they met your maiden head. His eyes found yours, and once again you nodded. 

He kissed you deeply as he sunk his fingers into you. You gripped onto his hair and moaned out. As you moaned he bit your bottom lip. You held onto him tighter as the pain flashed across your body but was replaced by pleasure. “Are you alright?” you nodded, unable to find the words when he was pumping him fingers in and out you, “You did so well,” His eyes filled with love and adornment for you. But soon his lips returned to your neck and your breasts.

“Podrick,” You said breathlessly, “Pod?” You had to pull his face away from your breasts, though his lips wants to immediately latch onto yours, “I can’t,” You whined, 

He pulled his fingers out of you and your hand away immediately, 

“Not here,” You shook your head still trying to catch your breath, 

“You’re the Queen, you can do what you please.” He said, half serious, wanting to rid you of your skirts and prove his love and himself there and now. 

You giggled holding his face as he restrained himself for kissing you, “I want you to bed me in my chambers. Not here.” 

“As you wish it, my Queen.” He smiled at you, and kissed you once more before rushing you off to your chambers.

[floatyflowers]

Hi could you do a one shot story about a male dark daenerys targaryen and his future wife reader?

Male! Daenerys Targaryen x Baratheon Reader

Daeron Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the father of Dragons, the Khal of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.

Hearing those titles was enough for you to predicate what will happen to King's Landing if your mother, Cersei Lannister, didn't bend the knee.

And your prediction turned out to be a reality when the Targaryen burned down King's Landing.

You weren't with your mother and uncle Jaime in the Red Keep when that happened, no, you were with your uncle Tyrion.

Little do you know, that Daeron has done it all for you, for you to be his and only his.

He saw you one time at the meeting that was held to plan the end of the night King, that's where he decided you would become his woman.

Right now, you can't help but weep in distress, as you are forced on your knees in front of the iron throne, as its new king sits on it.

"None of that would have happened if your father hadn't started a rebellion against my brother, Rhaeger"

Daeron states as if that is solely Robert's fault.

"None of that would have happened if Rhaeger didn't kidnap my father's betrothed"

Instead of telling you the truth about Lyanna's and Rhaeger's love story, he only smirks, before uttering the next words.

"I have got a solution to fix all the past mistakes"

Daeron doesn't move from his place as he stares at you with his violet eyes.

"We marry, and reunite the realms together"

You shook your head in fear and disgust at the thought of marrying a madman like Daeron Targeryen.

"Oh, did I forget that you have no choice? " his eyes narrow as he continues

"That's an order and you shall obey it"

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

Is there a comprehensive list of actors GRRM cites as faceclaims or is it all in disparate blog posts?

Most of it isn't in blog posts at all, it's things GRRM's said at conventions or interviews. (Note for anyone going "Them, really?", check the dates and what the actor looked like at the time.)

So, a quick list:

Sandor Clegane: Ron Perlman

Cersei Lannister: Nicole Kidman

Jaime Lannister: Cary Elwes

Tyrion Lannister: Peter Dinklage

Tywin Lannister: Kurtwood Smith or Robert Duvall

Renly Baratheon: Adrian Paul (also for young Robert)

Arianne Martell: Apollonia Kotero

Nymeria Sand: Janina Gavankar

Daenerys Targaryen: Tamzin Merchant

And sources:

November 2000, fan con report: "Pearlman, from BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, would be great for Sandor. Best guy for Tywin: the father on THAT 70s SHOW and who was the father of the kid, who shot himself, in THE DEAD POETS SOCIETY (I think I spelled it all right)."

December 2003: "...I have a few people in mind. I think Nicole Kidman would be good as Cersei. I always liked Ron Perlman, the actor I worked with on 'The Beauty and the Beast’. He would be great as Sandor Clegane. Ron is very good in heavy make-up and he’s also a big, strong kind of guy. He has a great voice that he can do all sorts of wonderful things with. I think he would be terrific as the Hound. For Jamie Lannister, a couple of years ago I would have said Cary Elwes but he might be too old now. I don’t know…"

c. 2006: "Myself, I'd love to see Tywin played by Kurtwood Smith (as in DEAD POET'S SOCIETY) or Robert Duvall (THE GREAT SANTINI)."

July 2006, fan con report: "On being asked about "the casting game" (picking actors to play the characters), he said the only one who he would definitely choose was Ron Perlman to play Sandor "The Hound" Clegane because of Perlman's aptitude for acting through prosthetics."

February 2007, fan con report: "When asked about ideal casting choices, he formally endorsed the idea of Nicole Kidman playing Cersei. He says she has the perfect look for her. But it would never work, because where are you going to find a guy that looks like her to play Jaime? I really got a kick out of that. He also said Ron Perelman would be perfect as the Hound -- but I am pretty sure I had hears or read that somewhere before."

date/source uncertain, but c. 2007: "Adrian Paul and I actually worked together once, long before the Dreamsongs audiobook. Wonder if he remembers. Back then he had a great look for Renly…but of course, that was twenty years ago."

February 2008: "Much as I *cough* admire Salma Hayek, I picture Arianne as looking more like Appollonia Kotero, as she was around the time of PURPLE RAIN."

November 2008, Elio Garcia: "George has said in the past that Adrian Paul is Baratheonish in looks (years ago he said he could see him for a young Robert or Renly)"

May 2009: "Playing Tyrion Lannister will be Peter Dinklage, who was almost everyone's "dream casting" for the role (he certainly was mine)."

August 2009: "I know my readers play the casting game. Well, confession time, so do I. Ever since I began A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE (way back in 1991, thought it wasn't until 1994 that I got writing in earnest), there was always a little part of me that would watch every television show and movie with one eye looking for actors and actresses who might work as my characters.

And so there I was, watching THE TUDORS (which I have VERY mixed feelings about, I confess), when Tamzin Merchant came on screen as the fifteen year old Katherine Howard, Henry VIII's fifth wife. I sat up at once, thinking, "Hmmm, she could be a good candidate for Dany.""

July 2011, Janina Gavankar: "George just told me I look like Lady Nymeria." (additional link 1) (link 2)

[claymoresword]

Playing With Fire

Cersei Lannister x Baratheon Knight Fem!Reader

Summary: Cersei Lannister is married off to Robert Baratheon but her sworn protector/the King's younger sister, happens to be the person that truly holds her heart.

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: g!p reader, breeding kink (?), cersei and y/n are so morally bankrupt, cheating, size kink, unprotected sex, power play

Note: i have been in a real writing slump lately but for some reason i have no problems writing smutty one shots lol i wonder why that is...

anyway enjoy!

"You sent for me, Your Grace?" You step inside Cersei's chambers to see her seated by her settee, a goblet of wine in hand.

"Yes, y/n I wish to speak with you. Close the door." The Queen says without looking at you and quickly do as you're told.

You folded your arms over your chest, patiently waiting for the Queen to speak.

"Was she worth it?" Cersei finally blurts out, reaching for the flagon on the small table.

Your brows furrow in genuine confusion, unable to meet her halfway.

"Begging your pardon, Your Grace?" You pause for her to elaborate, stepping closer.

"The whore you bedded." The woman hisses, and you are left even more perplexed.

Your expression betrays how you are feeling but the Queen remains silent, providing you with no further explanation to her apparent outrage.

"Cersei I have no idea what you are insinuating, but I can assure you, I have not laid with anyone." You state, slightly agitated.

"Do not lie to me. Tyrion told me everything." Cersei retaliates as she slams the goblet onto the table before rising from her seat.

You scowl instinctively before the realization hits you. Your expression merely contorts into an amused one.

You try but fail to suppress the laugh that falls out of your lips, Cersei's admittance only sounding funnier to you the longer you pondered upon it.

The Queen grimaces at your reaction. She extends her arm to strike you, but you stop her with a firm hand on her wrist.

A flicker of regret flashes across her face as she feels your harsh grip on her arm; although she restores her composure as you release it.

"This is amusing to you?" She taunts.

Not in the slightest.

"Yes, Tyrion and I went to a tavern together. Yes, I may have drunk more than I could stomach. But, I did not touch anyone." You explain and your conviction seems to translate as Cersei's heavy stare visibly softens.

"Really?" The Queen's voice shakes.

There she is, the woman you fell in love with.

"You know that I would never." You say, reaching up to place both hands on either side of the Queen's face. 

You let out the breath you were holding as you felt her relax underneath your touch.

"Cersei– it's me and you. Until the end of my days." You whisper, resting your forehead against hers.

"Prove it." The Queen orders, her eyes flitting down to your mouth.

You finally lean in, capturing her lips with your own. Cersei kisses you back fervently, hungrily, almost like she aims to devour you whole.

You are both forced to pull away as you run out of air, you feel Cersei's breath against your skin as she continues to hold you close.

"Is that proof enough for you?" You ask, a smirk playing on your lips, one Cersei reciprocates.

"Not quite." The Queen responds, surprising you by shoving you backwards with some force. You land on her bed as a result.

Cersei lifts her skirts slightly so she may climb onto the bed, she places a hand on your shoulder to support herself as she straddles you.

She kisses you again, this time it is all aggression, teeth and tongue. It snatches the air right out your lungs.

The Queen begins grinding her hips mid kiss and you feel your member stirring at the sensation. Your cock continues to harden everytime Cersei's clothed center rubbed up against it, making it difficult for you to think clearly.

The Queen pulls away and you find yourself chasing her lips before she tugs on your hair, forcing your head back so you may look at her.

"How can I express my apology?" Cersei says and you are too far in a daze to properly comprehend her words.

"What?" You ask, incredulous.

"I acted rashly, I almost condemned you for something you didn't do." Cersei explains and for the second time that evening, you are amused.

"and what– you feel guilty?" Your tone, almost mocking and the Queen rolls her eyes.

She sighs.

"Forget I said anything." Cersei attempts to climb off you but you keep your hands firmly on her hips. 

"I have a few ideas.." You finally respond, pulling her back onto your lap.

When she rests her weight on you again your cock is fully erect, and it doesn't go unnoticed.

You soon feel her hands reaching down to undo the laces of your breeches.

"Do you want my mouth?" The Queen asks with a darkened gaze.

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch her languidly gather her saliva in her palm before slipping her hand into your slacks. The Queen wraps her fingers around your girth, steadily pumping your length.

"Hm?" Cersei waits for a response but you don't give her anything beyond a groan in pleasure.

"Or is it my cunt that you want? It's warm and wet, all ready for you." She whispers, her lips brushing against your ear as she speaks.

Again you don't respond, merely focusing your energy on not releasing your load into Cersei's hand just yet. 

You reach around, fumbling with the laces of the Queen's dress and Cersei quickly takes the hint. She removes her hand before climbing off you to remove her own dress and you decide to do the same with your breeches along with your doublet, tossing them on the ground somewhere.

Cersei swiftly re joins you in bed and you immediately flip your positions, guiding her head to the pillow so you may situate yourself on top of her.

The Queen merely spreads her legs wider as you neared, your face now hovering over hers.

She leans up to capture her lips with your own, Cersei's moans into the kiss and another rush of arousal settles in your groin.

Your cock was now rock hard, nearly painful. You decide to move quickly.

You disconnect your lips before tilting your head, trailing wet kisses from the Queen's jaw down her neck. You begin sucking on the exposed skin but Cersei tugs at your hair warningly.

"Don't leave a mark." She warns, understanding your intentions.

So instead you move further down, her collarbones, her chest; you begin kneading one of her breasts with one hand while your mouth did all the work on the other.

An unrestrained moan leaves Cersei as you shamelessly took her nipple into your mouth, biting and sucking like your life depended on it. 

The Queen arches her back and you harshly pin her down with your other hand, earning a dissatisfied groan from your lover that makes you grin.

Cersei runs her fingers through your hair again just to grab a fistful of it, forcefully guiding your head back up. You wince at the pain but the Queen connects your lips eagerly, her tongue enters your mouth and soon you don't feel anything else.

Her hand slides down your stomach, when she gets to your shaft, she grips it at the base and you choke out a moan, shocked at just how sensitive you were, making you end the kiss prematurely.

Cersei pulls you closer by the neck forcing you to kiss her again, and you comply, although her hand stroking your cock made it near impossible for you to focus.

The Queen wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you even closer and you understood what she was asking of you, but the next words that fall from her lips nearly makes you lose all composure.

"I need you to fuck me." Cersei breathes out against your lips, her tone dripping with need.

You decide to not deny her any longer; lining up the tip of your cock to the Queen's entrance. With one large thrust your length is fully sheathed inside of her, Cersei's arousal allowing you to do so with little resistance.

The noise she lets out is one of pain but mostly overwhelming pleasure; she will never get used to how big you feel inside of her.

You move your hips again, skillful and deliberate, your aim was to make her feel good; based on the nearly deafening sounds of pleasure emitting from the Queen, it would suggest that you are succeeding.

Cersei's nails are clawing at your back as you plunge your cock deep inside, hitting all the right spots within her. The sounds of her broken gasps and moans every time you move only heightens your own pleasure. 

You feel her hands against your chest mid thrust pushing you back, you nearly mistake it as an ask to climb off her but she pulls you in for a deep kiss as she lifts herself up with her forearm and you quickly understand what she wanted.

You soon sit up without pulling out, guiding Cersei with a hand on the small of her back. Soon she is on your lap again, the new angle makes her gasp, your cock hitting her even deeper this way.

She begins to move her hips with abandon, and you can only watch in awe as you allow her to ride your cock, taking her pleasure for herself.

The Queen throws her head back as her fingers threaded through your hair once again. A way to tether herself as she explores the depths of pleasure your cock is currently allowing her.

"Do you love me?" You ask in the midst of it, biting back a grunt and Cersei finally looks at you.

Open-mouthed, face contorted as she chases her release, she has never looked so beautiful.

"I do." Your lover responds, she doesn't halt her movements only moving quicker, Cersei mantains her eye contact with you as she deliberately clenches around your length, watching your reaction.

"Do you love me?" Cersei retaliates, she is barely able to get the words out, her peak closely approaching.

"My love for you is the only true thing I feel." You reply earnestly, reaching up to wrap your fingers around her throat, and this works to tip her over the edge.

The Queen comes undone around your girth, she screams out as the orgasm rips through her, clawing at your neck and shoulder. The feeling of her walls squeezing your cock painfully makes you reach your own peak immediately after, releasing your load deep inside of her.

Cersei is still trembling as she rests her head against your shoulder, trying to regain her strength.

You trail gentle kisses on her shoulder, now slick with sweat, allowing her the time to come down from her high as you recover from your own.

–

Cersei laid with her back towards you, your arm wrapped around her torso. You were content as she ran her hand up and down your forearm absentmindedly, both of you merely basking in the afterglow.

It was several minutes until the Queen decides to break the silence.

"You can't blame me for worrying about all the women who fawn over you.. you are too good with your cock." Cersei states and you can't help but let out a huff in amusement.

"You could have any woman you desire." The Queen adds, and you recognised the tone, although uncharacteristic. 

It was forlorn and defeated.

"That may be but I desire you." You counter, moving Cersei's hair away from her neck, you plant a kiss against it before moving your arm further up, cupping one of her breasts.

You feel the sensitive bud harden underneath your touch as the Queen lets out a sigh of approval.

"Besides I took an oath of chastity, as far as anyone else is concerned, I must remain abstinent until the day I die." You admit, your breath against her neck.

Cersei hums in response, pushing her rear closer to your front, soon your erection is poking at the flesh of her ass.

"How lucky am I that you are a woman without honour." The Queen quips, extending her arm backwards to place a hand on the back of your neck.

Your teeth grazes her neck before biting down, earning a mewl from the other woman.

"Stop talking." You warn, tightening your grip on her waist before harshly pulling her even closer.

Your shaft, now rubbing against her already weeping cunt.

"Do you surrender yourself to me, completely?" You growl but Cersei doesn't respond, you watch her bite her lip as she lifts her leg slightly, an invitation for you to enter her.

But you were not satisfied.

"Answer me." You order through gritted teeth, the tip of your cock pokes at her entrance and she gasps.

Her grip on the back of your neck now firm.

"Yes.." Cersei finally gives you a response, breathy and submissive.

A triumphant smirk tugs on your lips before you move your hips forward, plunging yourself deep inside the Queen's wanting cunt.

The loud moan of evident pleasure from Cersei urges you on.

You begin thrusting at a relentless pace, your mouth finds her neck once again and you feel the other woman clench desperately around your length as your teeth made contact with her skin.

There is nothing tender about the way you are handling her, and you were both drunk on it.

"My brother was allowed to marry the most beautiful woman in all of the seven kingdoms and I am dealt scraps–" You punctuate your words with each thrust.

Cersei can only afford to gasp and moan in response, the occasional whine from the Queen makes you move even harder, your balls slapping against her ass with every thrust.

"Anything he doesn't want gets passed down to me. Where is his honour?" You groan, your grip on Cersei's hip sure to leave bruises come the morrow.

"You are mine." Your mouth directly above the Queen's ear as you shifted the angle of your cock, hitting a different part of her, the pleasure Cersei feels is almost too much, her eyes roll to the back of her head.

"I am yours." She manages to choke out.

"Please– I am so close–" The Queen adds immediately after, not a beat passes until you feel her cunt convulsing against your cock.

She reaches her peak, intense and forceful and yours washes over you the same. Your vision blurs for a moment as you empty yourself inside of her, Cersei's walls remain clenched around your length as she milks you of every last drop.

Both of your chests are heaving as you carefully pull out of her. 

Cersei turns around, guiding your face down to kiss her, and you do, it is adoring and light, a stark contrast to how you were with her just moments ago.

"I am with child." The Queen mutters as your lips part and you are taken aback.

"I don't think it happens that quickly, my love." You jest and Cersei leans back to stare at you, deadpan.

She quickly guides your hand, placing it atop her belly.

"The Maester confirmed it yesterday– we are having another child." The Queen reiterates and you can help the real smile that tugs on your lips, your chest brimming with pride and love for the other woman.

You lean down to plant several kisses all over her belly, Cersei smiles down at you fondly as her fingers got lost in your hair.

You finally lift your head to look at her, your face hovering over hers once again.

"I love you so much." You admit, and Cersei's smile grows as she moves a strand of hair out of your face.

"I know." 

[bloodstained-porcelain-doll]

Heel to her Master, ch 3 - Sandor Clegane x reader

Read on AO3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Summary: The handmaiden finds him terrifying yet intriguing. The Hound finds her wildly attractive. He stakes his claim. Warnings: Eventual smut, dub con, public humiliation, bdsm, Master/pet dynamic

The handmaid was listening to something she shouldn’t be hearing. Sometimes she would hide in a secret passage she once discovered by stumbling into a bookshelf. That incident had led to her going off to search for more hidden rooms and passages throughout the keep. She had found three, but this one was the only one where she could hear into a council room. On this day she heard the Lannisters discussing battle plans. She knew Stannis was waging war, there was much talk in King’s Landing. But now she listened in as the Lannisters discussed ships, weapons and soldiers.

   “...Ill trained, poorly disciplined gold cloaks…” she heard the voice of Lord Tyrion. She smiled. Lord Tyrion was kind, she liked him well enough. He was the only high born man she knew who bothered learning the names of servants and handmaids.

   “...Thousands will die…”

   The Handmaid was afraid, she feared what would happened when the war approached. She felt no loyalty toward the Lannisters, but she had made a life for herself within their rule. Stannis was a stranger, she couldn’t know what changes he would inflict.

   “What’s this, a welp out of her cage?” The handmaid shot into the air and spun around, gasping as she was faced the the towering frame of the Hound.

   “Ser, I-” she began, but the Hound grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and yanked her out of the secret chamber, slamming it shut behind them.

   “Spare me your Sers, girl. What do you think you’re doing?” he questioned, shoving her up against the wall, causing her to whimper in pain.

   “I’m sorry, please don’t turn me in,” she pleaded, looking around anxiously. They were all alone again.

   “They’re just on the other side of that wall. Why shouldn’t I drag you in front of the king to answer for your crimes? Who are you spying for?” he asked, digging his nails into her arm. He would leave bruises, she was sure.

   “Please, they’ll have me killed. I wasn’t spying, I swear it, I was just curious!”

“Mmm… I like it when you beg. Might enjoy hearing you beg the king for mercy. Not that I think he’d give it to you.” His nails dug in harder and her back scraped against the wall.

   “Please, you’re hurting me… I wasn’t spying, I’m sorry… please don’t tell them, I’ll do anything you want!” she blurted out, squirming in his grip. Instead of releasing her, he twisted her arm painfully, making her hunch forward, having to look up at him as he towered over her. It was embarrassing how she ached between her legs. The Hound held all the power between the two of them, and they both knew it. He chewed his lip and eyed her carefully.

   “Anything, you say?”

   “Yes,” she whimpered. With a rough tug on her hair she found herself inches from the Hound’s face, with no choice but to hold his gaze while her eyes stung with tears.

   “That’s ‘yes, Master’ to you from now on,” he rasped.

   “Yes, Master,” she corrected herself quickly, swallowing down a lump in her throat as another ache made itself known between her legs.

   “Make sure I never catch you spying again. You answer to me now, I own you. And next time I won’t be so forgiving. Understand?”

   “Yes, Master,” she whispered, nodding hastily. Her heart raced while she awaited his next action. He released her hair and she found her balance on her feet again.

   “Good. On your knees.” Her eyes widened at the order. “You’re not going to start questioning me already, are you, girl? And make me remind you what Lannisters do to traitors?” She shook her head and dropped to her knees, sure she knew what was to follow. But instead of unlacing his breeches and shoving his cock in her mouth like she expected, he stripped off his glove and brought his hand to her hair. She looked down at the floor, her heart throbbing in her chest.

   The Hound looked around himself once more before he began to pet her. Gently, fondly, as if she - as if she were a pet, she realised. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes closed, taking in the sensation. Heat rushed through her body at the realisation that she was kneeling on the floor for the Sandor “the Hound” Clegane, and he was petting her like she was his dog.

   “Good pup,” he praised, lightly slapping her cheek before taking a step back. She stared up at him with big glossy eyes, breathing heavily. “Don’t forget your place now.” And just like that he turned on his heel and left the handmaid there in shock.

[what-do-1000-swords-look-like]

Rewatching 8x05 for writing reasons, which is just a brilliant episode, despite any reasons some might have to hate it, valid or invalid. Miguel Sapochnik is directing and you see his talent and epicness in every shot (that man deserves a freaking Emmy already, I said what I said) but also there are so many things being shown here that if you muted the episode after Daenerys makes her decision, during the battle scene, you would be able to tell exactly what each character is thinking and what's really going on in the story besides the surface action.

Which brings me to that one scene that a lot of people said the woman being attacked as a stand-in for Sansa in the episode for Jon. They are correct and here's how.

Jon is walking through the melee, only coming to life to defend himself when Lannister soldiers are trying to attack him. The Northerners aren't listening to him, they're attacking innocent civilians, Grey Worm is on a killing spree, Davos is trying to help people get away from the bloodshed, Dany is burning the city, Tyrion is off somewhere horrified, Cersei is watching in terror from the Red Keep... But during this scene, the sound is muted to a point where the sounds of battle happening all around Jon sound very far away. We're now seeing what Jon sees, we're in his shock fugue with him. We see on his left civilians, namely women, being brutalized by soldiers -> he keeps walking. We on his right a woman being knocked down to the ground while a child is watching in horror, blood spatter and bodies all around her (and obviously traumatized & also in danger herself since no one is left to protect her) -> he keeps walking. He then sees a Lanniser soldier telling people to run, something his soldiers should be doing (and something he himself should be doing like Davos) but he's not. While the sounds are still muted, Jon notices another Lannister soldier about to rush him and he goes into autopilot & fights the soldier off. He then looks around in horror.

This is not what he signed up for and he almost looks lost, like he doesn't know what to do. Then the sound comes back fully and he hears a scream. In all of the melee, chaos, and death around him, he hears this one woman above the rest and turns to see her being dragged into an alley to presumably be assaulted by one of his own men.

Sure enough, she's about to be and she is trying to crawl away when the man catches her again. Jon ends up saving her, threatening to run his sword through the man. When the latter tries to fight him off to go back to assault this woman, Jon kills him and tells the woman to hide.

So how is this woman standing in for Sansa besides the obvious?

Two ways.

1) Ramsay was the former Warden of the North, the former bastard of Roose Bolton who was a Northerner who "served" Robb Stark, the first King in the North, before betraying him to the Lannisters. The soldier Jon faces off with is a Northerner and is supposed to be under Jon's command as Warden of the North and the former second King in the North.

2) Sansa is who stirs Jon into action when he feels lost.

Every.

Time.

And the parallels between the gif above with Dany and the dagger to the Northern soldier that had Jon's sword run through him, and Jon's staring almost sadly at the man, realizing he had to kill one of his own are far from being coincidental.

Not only was this a precursor to what would occur in 8x06 (and why Jon would make the decision he did) but it also is symbolic of the dynamic between Jon and Sansa as a whole. She's the one who stirs him into action, no matter how terrified or traumatized or angry he might be in that moment (like the shock fugue). No matter how lost he might feel. She gives him direction and dare I say a purpose when he has none (after his death; after the WW are defeated & Dany has gone into tyrant mode).

No wonder we weren't allowed to see Sansa's (or Arya's) reaction to the news of his being a Targaryen.

No wonder Jon told Melisandre not to bring him back if he lost the Battle of the Bastards (after Sansa told him if he lost, she wouldn't be going back to Ramsay alive).

No wonder Jon was not happy with Sansa on the dock in 8x06.

She's always stirred him into action when he doesn't want to be or know how to do it himself (after his death).

He passed a woman he could have saved.

He passed a child he could have helped.

He saw someone on the other side helping and doing the right thing.

The only time he steps in to help someone else is the woman about to be assaulted.

(x) "You are the shield that guards the realms of men. You've always tried to do the right thing. No matter the cost. You've tried to protect people. Who's the greatest threat to the people now?" (no reaction)

"Do you think I'm the last man she'll execute? Who is more dangerous than the rightful heir to the Iron Throne?" (no reaction)

"And your sisters? Do you see them bending the knee?" (a little bit of a reaction)

"Why do you think Sansa told me the truth about you? Because she doesn't want Dany to be queen." (more of a reaction)

"No, but you do. And you have to choose now." (he hesitatingly goes to confront Dany and then 🗡️)

It's not just about her being his "sister" or because she's Lady Stark or family or because they were the last two Starks once upon a time. She literally stirs him into action and gives him purpose. Her pushing to go back to Winterfell led to him caring about the WW invasion again. Her being the one he chooses to protect ended a tyrant and changed history, leading for her to become the first Queen in the North and regain Northern Independence, where she can be forever safe.

It was always Sansa for him, starting in 6x04.

[greenerteacups]

oooh please someday tell us what you think of GOT

oh, no, it's my fatal weakness! it's [checks notes] literally just the bare modicum of temptation! okay you got me.

SO. in order to tell what's wrong with game of thrones you kind of have to have read the books, because the books are the reason the show goes off the rails. i actually blame the showrunners relatively little in proportion to GRRM for how bad the show was (which I'm not gonna rehash here because if you're interested in GOT in any capacity you've already seen that horse flogged to death). people debate when GOT "got bad" in terms of writing, but regardless of when you think it dropped off, everyone agrees the quality declined sharply in season 8, and to a certain extent, season 7. these are the seasons that are more or less entirely spun from whole cloth, because season 7 marks the beginning of what will, if we ever see it, be the Winds of Winter storyline. it's the first part that isn't based on a book by George R.R. Martin. it's said that he gave the showrunners plot outlines, but we don't know how detailed they were, or how much the writers diverged from the blueprint — and honestly, considering the cumulative changes made to the story by that point, some stark divergence would have been required. (there's a reason for this. i'll get there in a sec.)

so far, i'm not saying anything all that original. a lot of people recognized how bad the show got as soon as they ran out of Book to adapt. (I think it's kind of weird that they agreed to make a show about an unfinished series in the first place — did GRRM figure that this was his one shot at a really good HBO adaptation, and forego misgivings about his ability to write two full books in however many years it took to adapt? did he think they would wait for him? did he not care that the series would eventually spoil his magnum opus, which he's spent the last three decades of his life writing? perplexing.) but the more interesting question is why the show got bad once it ran out of Book, because in my mind, that's not a given. a lot of great shows depart from the books they were based on. fanfiction does exactly that, all the time! if you have good writers who understand the characters they're working with, departure means a different story, not a worse one. now, the natural reply would be to say that the writers of GOT just aren't good, or at least aren't good at the things that make for great television, and that's why they needed the books as a structure, but I don't think that's true or fair, either. books and television are very different things. the pacing of a book is totally different from the pacing of a television show, and even an episodic book like ASOIAF is going to need a lot of work before it's remotely watchable as a series. bad writers cannot make great series of television, regardless of how good their source material is. sure, they didn't invent the characters of tyrion lannister and daenerys targaryen, but they sure as hell understood story structure well enough to write a damn compelling season of TV about them!

so but then: what gives? i actually do think it's a problem with the books! the show starts out as very faithful to the early books (namely, A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings) to the point that most plotlines are copied beat-for-beat. the story is constructed a little differently, and it's definitely condensed, but the meat is still there. and not surprisingly, the early books in ASOIAF are very tightly written. for how long they are, you wouldn't expect it, but on every page of those books, the plot is racing. you can practically watch george trying to beat the fucking clock. and he does! useful context here is that he originally thought GOT was going to be a trilogy, and so the scope of most threads in the first book or two would have been much smaller. it also helps that the first three books are in some respects self-contained stories. the first book is a mystery, the second and third are espionage and war dramas — and they're kept tight in order to serve those respective plots.

the trouble begins with A Feast for Crows, and arguably A Storm of Swords, because GRRM starts multiplying plotlines and treating the series as a story, rather than each individual book. he also massively underestimated the number of pages it would take him to get through certain plot beats — an assumption whose foundation is unclear, because from a reader's standpoint, there is a fucke tonne of shit in Feast and Dance that's spurious. I'm not talking about Brienne's Riverlands storyline (which I adore thematically but speaking honestly should have been its own novella, not a part of Feast proper). I'm talking about whole chapters where Tyrion is sitting on his ass in the river, just talking to people. (will I eat crow about this if these pay off in hugely satisfying ways in Winds or Dream? oh, totally. my brothers, i will gorge myself on sweet sweet corvid. i will wear a dunce cap in the square, and gleefully, if these turn out to not have been wastes of time. the fact that i am writing this means i am willing to stake a non-negligible amount of pride on the prediction that that will not happen). I'm talking about scenes where the characters stare at each other and talk idly about things that have already happened while the author describes things we already have seen in excruciating detail. i'm talking about threads that, while forgivable in a different novel, are unforgivable in this one, because you are neglecting your main characters and their story. and don't tell me you think that a day-by-day account tyrion's river cruise is necessary to telling his story, because in the count of monte cristo, the main guy disappears for nine years and comes hurtling back into the story as a vengeful aristocrat! and while time jumps like that don't work for everything, they certainly do work if what you're talking about isn't a major story thread!

now put aside whether or not all these meandering, unconcluded threads are enjoyable to read (as, in fairness, they often are!). think about them as if you're a tv showrunner. these bad boys are your worst nightmare. because while you know the author put them in for a reason, you haven't read the conclusion to the arc, so you don't know what that reason is. and even if the author tells you in broad strokes how things are going to end for any particular character (and this is a big "if," because GRRM's whole style is that he lets plots "develop as he goes," so I'm not actually convinced that he does have endings written out for most major characters), that still doesn't help you get them from point A (meandering storyline) to point B (actual conclusion). oh, and by the way, you have under a year to write this full season of television, while GRRM has been thinking about how to end the books for at least 10. all of this means you have to basically call an audible on whether or not certain arcs are going to pay off, and, if they are, whether they make for good television, and hence are worth writing. and you have to do that for every. single. unfinished. story. in the books.

here's an example: in the books, Quentin Martell goes on a quest to marry Daenerys and gain a dragon. many chapters are spent detailing this quest. spoiler alert: he fails, and he gets charbroiled by dragons. GRRM includes this plot to set up the actions of House Martell in Winds, but the problem is that we don't know what House Martell does in Winds, because (see above) the book DNE. So, although we can reliably bet that the showrunners understand (1) Daenerys is coming to Westeros with her 3 fantasy nukes, and (2) at some point they're gonna have to deal with the invasion of frozombies from Canada, that DOESN'T mean they necessarily know exactly what's going to happen to Dorne, or House Martell. i mean, fuck! we don't even know if Martin knows what's going to happen to Dorne or House Martell, because he's said he's the kind of writer who doesn't set shit out beforehand! so for every "Cersei defaults on millions of dragons in loans from the notorious Bank of Nobody Fucks With Us, assumes this will have no repercussions for her reign or Westerosi politics in general" plotline — which might as well have a big glaring THIS WILL BE IMPORTANT stamp on top of the chapter heading — you have Arianne Martell trying to do a coup/parent trap switcheroo with Myrcella, or Euron the Goffick Antichrist, or Faegon Targaryen and JonCon preparing a Blackfyre restoration, or anything else that might pan out — but might not! And while that uncertainty about what's important to the "overall story" might be a realistic way of depicting human beings in a world ruled by chance and not Destiny, it makes for much better reading than viewing, because Game of Thrones as a fantasy television series was based on the first three books, which are much more traditional "there is a plot and main characters and you can generally tell who they are" kind of book. I see Feast and Dance as a kind of soft reboot for the series in this respect, because they recenter the story around a much larger cast and cast a much broader net in terms of which characters "deserve" narrative attention.

but if you're making a season of television, you can't do that, because you've already set up the basic premise and pacing of your story, and you can't suddenly pivot into a long-form tone poem about the horrors of war. so you have to cut something. but what are you gonna cut? bear in mind that you can't just Forget About Dorne, or the Iron Islands, or the Vale, or the North, or pretty much any region of the story, because it's all interconnected, but to fit in everything from the books would require pacing of the sort that no reasonable audience would ever tolerate. and bear in mind that the later books sprout a lot more of these baby-plots that could go somewhere, but also might end up being secondary or tertiary to the "main story," which, at the end of the day, is about dragons and ice zombies and the rot at the heart of the feudal power system glorified in classical fantasy. that's the story that you as the showrunner absolutely must give them an end to, and that's the story that should be your priority 1.

so you do a hack and slash job, and you mortar over whatever you cut out with storylines that you cook up yourself, but you can't go too far afield, because you still need all the characters more or less in place for the final showdown. so you pinch here and push credulity there, and you do your best to put the characters in more or less the same place they would have been if you kept the original, but on a shorter timeframe. and is it as good as the first seasons? of course not! because the material that you have is not suited to TV like the first seasons are. and not only that, but you are now working with source material that is actively fighting your attempt to constrain a linear and well-paced narrative on it. the text that you're working with changed structure when you weren't looking, and now you have to find some way to shanghai this new sprawling behemoth of a Thing into a television show. oh, and by the way, don't think that the (living) author of the source material will be any help with this, because even though he's got years of experience working in television writing, he doesn't actually know how all of these threads will tie together, which is possibly the reason that the next book has taken over 8 years (now 13 and counting) to write. oh and also, your showrunners are sick of this (in fairness, very difficult) job and they want to go write for star wars instead, so they've refused the extra time the studio offered them for pre-production and pushed through a bunch of first-draft scripts, creating a crunch culture of the type that spawns entirely avoidable mistakes, like, say, some poor set designer leaving a starbucks cup in frame.

anyway, that's what I think went wrong with game of thrones.

[bellarkeselection]

I was woundering if could do a tyrion lannister short were there just newly wed and y/n bother is makeing a Speech about how his y/n is a trader to the family for agreeing to marry Tyrion

Could you also use this gif

Traitor to the Stark’s

Staring at myself in the mirror I brushed my hands over my dress I was so nervous. I was even more nervous than I was the day of my arranged marriage a few months ago. The chamber door opened and my husband Tyrion came in seeing that I hadn’t moved when he came to check on me once he was ready. “Y/n, my darling wife is everything okay?”

“I’m more nervous than I ever been in my whole life. Tyrion, I know I shouldn’t be since we are back in my childhood home. But…everything feels different now.” Running my hands through my straight hair I sighed heavily.

Tyrion moved away from the door taking my hands in his meeting my gaze when I was looking down at him. “You have absolutely nothing to fear dear wife. For it is I who should be more worried than you. Since this is the first time I shall be presented as your husband.”

“Tyrion, you have only ever been so kind and gentle to me. If my parents can’t see past the Lannister name then they are fools. I’ll be there for you.” Squeezing his hand in mine he let me lead him through the hallway since I knew the castle better than he did even though I hadn’t been there in a few months. We entered the great hall seeing my mother and father Lord and Lady Stark waiting with my twin brother Robb watching to,learn the duties if a Lord one day.

My father got to his feet bowing to greet us both with a smile on his face seeing me again. “Lord Tyrion, Lady Y/n, it’s so good to have you in our home as honorable guests.”

“As you it is you father - uh I mean Lord Stark.” I corrected myself blushing at the mistake I had made calling him something other than the Lord of Winterfell.

Tyrion nodded towards my mother even though she wasn’t quite as warmed up to him after what happened to Bran. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Stark. I know my darling wife has missed you both dearly.”

“I’m shocked she even remembers who we are. Considering she’s been transformed into a Lannister in the short mouths away from her former family. You can’t even recognize that she used to be a Stark with the way she dresses and she doesn’t even carry her dagger on her hip like she used to. I’d say she’s a traitor to the Stark name!” My twin brother got his feet snapping sharply at me.

Sucking in a breath I felt some tears falling down my face at his words thinking that he might be right. “Robb, I…I’m still your sister.”

“You may share my blood but you’re not even acting like your old self. You weren’t always proper and here you are in a dress rather than trousers and a tunic. I know my sister and you’re not acting like her right now!” He raised his voice stepping in from of me growling through his teeth.

Our mother finally came forward yanking him away for our father to talk alone with him. “Robb that’s quite enough. I’m so sorry Lord Tyrion. We will continue this visit later.” She walked out of the room to find my father and brother leaving us alone where it was just me and Tyrion.

“Y/n, Y/n, look at me. Please look at me.” Tyrion pulled me from my trance of tears and just watching the door that had already shut in my face. Seeing that I was crying through some tears and clutching my hands into fists at my side.

Shaking my head I cleared my throat yanking my head down to stare at him in those soft green eyes. “Yes Tyrion, what were you saying?”

“I said it’s not your fault that you’re brother looks at you differently. You were forced into a marriage with me but I thought I was doing a good job and letting you remain to be the girl I met that day I said our vows to the gods.” He dropped his gaze to the floor with a weak smile feeling like he had failed somehow.

Dropping to my knees so I could be eye level with him I didn’t care what happened to the now stained red Lannister dress. “Tyrion, don’t think for a moment that you have been a bad husband to me. I have heard the horror stories of girls my age marrying brutal men who are rough, who are old men like Walter Frey or who only spend time with their wives to put a heir in their belly. But you are none of these things.” Placing my hands on his shoulders he finally looks me in the eye.

“Thank you, Y/n my dear wolf. Even if your brother won’t see it. You will always be a Stark first and foremost before you were a Lannister.” Tyrion sent me a smile resting his hands on my face leaning down giving me a gentle kiss.

Kissing him back I squeezed his shoulders smiling into our soft kiss. “You will always be the best husband that I could have asked for, Tyrion.” We would be there for each other even if our families weren’t friends.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[b-does-the-write-thing]

general incivility, chapter six

- a brienne x jaime pride & prejudice retelling -

chapter one l chapter two  l chapter three l chapter four l chapter five l chapter six l now on AO3

At the end of their first month in the Stormlands, a letter appeared from King’s Landing. Bronn, no doubt curious, brought it to the breakfast table, where he might be able to linger and ascertain its contents. A savvy move that Tyrion could applaud if it were not for the fact Cersei and Jaime could not help but notice the royal seal.

At its appearance, Cersei fell uncharacteristically silent. Though at the rate she was straining her neck, she’d be out of commission for the upcoming week’s assemblies. His dear brother pretended he had gone blind, deaf, and dumb, but Jaime was not leaving either, showcasing his interest in the missive. Tyrion would have preferred to retire to read it in peace; he already guessed at its contents, but there was nothing to be done other than to face the music. Cracking the seal, Tyrion’s suspicions were confirmed within the first few words, and the following ones compounded his headache.

Outside, the evening clouds had not departed, and the trees were whispering to each other in the breeze. A storm was imminent, not one of the gentle spring rains that had come and gone in their few weeks here, but a proper tempest, the true namesake of the region. Judging the entire thing to be more trouble than it was worth, Tyrion tossed the letter away. It landed on top of the porridge and, under the weight of the royal seal, began to sink. Cersei shot her cousin a filthy look before ordering one of the footmen to fish it out for her. Receiving it with the utmost care, Cersei devoured the soggy paper’s contents. A smile bloomed across her face until her smile was the only bright spot in the breakfast parlor.

When Cersei finally deigned to lower the letter, a footman rushed forward to offer her a serviette. “But this is wonderful,” Cersei said, seemingly unaware she was daintily wiping her hands on the footman’s jacket and not the offered napkin. To think, the king—here of all places!”

Jaime stirred to life. “What fortuitous reason do we have to thank for such an honor?”

Tyrion rubbed his forehead, running his stubby fingers across the odd ridges of his skull, letting the familiar sensation soothe his threatening headache. “He claims to visit Lord Stannis, but no doubt he has heard father’s succeeded in running me off finally.”

Jaime did not argue. Everyone knew there was little love lost between King Robert Baratheon, first of his name, and Tywin Lannister. The vaults of King’s Landing were rumored to have long since run dry, but perhaps with a son of Casterly Rock at his side…

Cersei stood, pressing her skirt down, her eyes staring past both her cousins, fixated on something far in the distance that only she could see. “I’ll have to send word home at once. I barely brought anything suitable for court-”

“Were you not still planning to depart within the next fortnight?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Cersei snapped, this time directing her glare at Jaime. “The King is coming to Storm’s End, and he will, of course, call here.” Her eyes darted to Tyrion. “You’ll need a lady to lead the house, plan the ball-”

“Ball?”

“Host His Highness, and well he mentions his Kingsguard will be attending. No mention of any courtiers, but of course, the usual toadies will be in attendance- “

“Cersei, if you would like to play lady of the hall, by all means, my home is at your disposal, but do me the very great courtesy of not looking like the cat who caught the canary. It’s very disconcerting.”

“Only you would have the king send him a personal letter and look as if the world was coming to an end.” Tyrion did not think his brother looked any happier about this development, but Cersei seemed determined to ignore Jaime. “If you will excuse me-” and with that, she swanned out of the breakfast parlor, looking all the world as if she already had a crown upon her brow.

“She’ll be insufferable,” Tyrion lamented. “Robert’s no tactician, but he’s not going to ignore a lioness laying down on her back for him-”

“Tyrion,” Jaime hissed. “Have a care for how you talk about our cousin.”

“You should be glad she’s not eyeing your neck for the noose at the moment,” Tyrion continued, tearing into the pastry to find it still warm and steaming. The manor might be considerably smaller than the Rock, but he quite enjoyed the new proximity to his kitchens, even if his belt protested. “Perhaps Robert's visit will allow you more time to pursue your interests without hindrance?”

Jaime’s eyes darkened in displeasure. “There is nothing of interest in this desolate corner of Westeros. I am only here because of you.”

“Interesting,” Tyrion continued, “I, for one, have thought you rather intrigued by our resident beauty.”

Tyrion had not seen it at first. He had been so taken with the odd Miss Tarth, finding her to be one of the truly most unfortunate people he had ever seen besides himself, that he had almost missed the way his brother’s eyes tracked her around the room, how Jaime moved after her when she passed by as if caught in her wake and drawn after her despite himself. He was not sure if his brother was even aware of his interest, if not for the odd way his lips quirked whenever Miss Tarth was mentioned.

“You are referring to which renowned Stormland beauty, Tyrion? Miss Tarth or Miss Baratheon?”

Tyrion chuckled. “Cersei has had your ear again, I fear. Miss Baratheon is not yet eight and ten. Her brush with death has added to her character, but I am not one for unaged wine.”

Jaime considered him across the table. ”And Miss Tarth?”

Tyrion grinned. “You know I am a great lover of beauty.”

His brother’s lips thinned, face darkening into a pensive glower until he looked just like their father. “Surely you of all people would think to look past appearances-”

“Have you?”

Jaime’s eyes shuttered, and he looked pointedly away to the storm gathering outside. “I have barely spoken a word to the party in question.”

“On the contrary, I believe you’ve spoken more to her than anyone else in the Stormlands.”

“If I happen to stand by the only other person who has less desire to speak than myself-”

“Happen? Jaime, you followed her around the length of the ballroom last week.”

Jaime shot up from his seat. “I should make haste if I want to get a ride in before the storm-”

“Jaime-” But his brother was already gone, leaving him alone with the great feast. Tyrion looked over at the footman nearest to the table, his cravat still smeared with oatmeal. “Do we have any blackberry jam?”

[sotwk]

My fave character so far is Tyland (i'm such a miserable creature for anxious man lmao), i wanna read stuff but there's nothing and i don't know the lore to write it myself 😭😭😭

Also, was he that shy and anxious in the first season? i don't really remember him at all in the first season (tho i know he was there) so i can't tell lmao

Omg I LOVE Tyland. He is that strain of Lannister with actual nobility in him, such as is found in Tyrion. He's smart and temperate and actually knows the meaning of service. Who knows what the show has in store for him, but in the books, he can be categorized as one of the "good ones".

I don't think he's necessarily shy, just reserved. Who wouldn't be anxious if they had to sit at the council of a king like Aegon or Aemond? Plus think they really just wanted to show the contrast between him and his cocky twin, Jason.

It's funny you mentioned that about lack of fics! Literally this morning I browsed for some Tyland fics on Ao3 (which I very rarely do), and could barely find anything! Tumblr has even less! Sad. Maybe his fan club just needs a little more time to grow.

I wish I could say I can write some Tyland stuff myself, but I am already in SUCH a hole with requests and WIPs. But hey--you never know! Inspiration is a funny thing. :)

Btw I literally squealed at this finale shot of him standing on the deck in a storm. Like, forget Jason with his giant marching army. TEAM HOT TYLAND all the way. (That armour is gorgeous--leave it to the Lannisters to be super fashionable!)

[lionlena]

Remember me… (Oberyn Martellxreader) ANGST - one shot

Warnings: ANGST, really angst, suffering, canon character death, mourning, suicide...

I don't know why I did this to myself...😭🥺🤧

Remember me

The first thing you remember is screaming. But not yours, although apparently you screamed too. That's what Varys told you. Supposedly it was the mournful, piercing cry of a broken heart, but you can't confirm that. Instead of your own screaming, all you heard was ringing in your ears. But not before Oberyn's scream was drilled into your head. A scream full of unimaginable pain and suffering. A scream that haunts you almost every night.

You don't remember much after that. You fainted and everything else became an incoherent blur.

You remember clinging to Oberyn's cold, stiff chest and sobbing. His face was covered with a red cloth and you were tempted to reveal it, even though you knew it was the worst thing you could do to yourself.

Your hand involuntarily grabbed the edge of the fabric and suddenly someone grabbed your wrist. You looked up to see Varys' sad face as he shook his head.

"No…" he said gently. "You don't want to see this."

He was right, so you moved your hand back and grabbed Oberyn's stiff hand. The hand that held the weapon. The hand that gave you pleasure. The hand that wiped your tears, combed your hair… The hand that firmly held the reins of the restless horse you were riding. The hand that could have killed you, but instead gave you life.

"Can I do something for you?"

You heard Varys' gentle voice again and shook your head. There was nothing in this world he could do for you.

"Can you turn back time? Bring the dead back to life?"

Varys just sighed. There was no need to answer your questions.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke again.

"What about Tyrion?"

Varys tilted his head to the side, surprised by your concern for Lannister. But you couldn't help but like this dwarf.

"He waiting in a cell to die…"

You sighed heavily.

"I hope he escapes."

There was a strange gleam in Varys's eyes as he replied:

"Maybe his fate is not yet decided."

You didn't have the strength to ask for details, but you were counting on it. Not only because you liked Tyrion, but you didn't want that bitch Cersei to win. You had pure hatred for her and believed that she was partly responsible for the death of your loved one. *

The journey back to Dorne seemed like a never-ending torture. You saw the same places where you two stayed.

You remembered how Oberyn cared about your comfort all the time. Those evenings by the fire when you sat between his legs and he pulled you to his chest.

"My queen." He whispered into your hair and kissed your neck. "You should sit on the iron throne. You are more beautiful and intelligent than all the women in King's Landing."

You started giggling and shook your head and he started nibbling your neck.

"Don't laugh. I'm telling the truth." *

You didn't remember much about Oberyn's funeral. You heard the others sobbing, but you weren't crying anymore. You had no more tears.

After the funeral, you heard Oberyn's eldest daughters planning revenge, but you didn't care anymore. You were like Doran in that thing, although you had different reasons. The prince wanted to keep the peace at all costs, and you… You simply lost all will to fight. *

Three months after Oberyn's funeral, you decided to leave Dorne and return to your homeland.

You loved Dorne. You loved the warmth, fountains, palm trees, deserts… You loved the freedom that this land gave women.

You remembered Oberyn bringing you to Dorne and laughing merrily at your enthusiasm.

"My desert flower, you look like a child at a toy stand."

The prince grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him. He kissed you passionately and looked at you with shining eyes.

"Are you really that impressed with my home?"

You nodded eagerly and smiled happily.

"Oh yes… I love Dorne!"

Oberyn smiled and kissed your forehead.

"You haven't even seen the half of it yet. Wait until I take you to the royal gardens and…" He leaned in and whispered in your ear. "I will show you my favorite place, where no one eyes can see what I'm doing to you."

His hand went under your dress and he started stroking your thigh. You moaned softly and nodded.

"I never want to leave Dorne."

Oberyn's hand grabbed your buttock.

"Then you have nothing to worry about because I will never let you leave Dorne. It's your home now." *

"I am leaving Dorne… I am returning to my homeland."

The prince shifted uncomfortably in his wheelchair. He had a fondness for you that was surprising even Oberyn in the past.

"You can stay in Dorne."

"Dorne is not my home."

Doran looked at you surprised, even hurt.

"Is anyone here treating you badly?"

"You don't understand me, prince. Dorne is no longer my home, nor any other place in the world. Oberyn was my home. Without him… I have no home."

Doran sighed heavily and looked at you sadly.

"I'm sorry I can't heal your heart."

You gave him a soft smile.

"It's not your fault, prince. There are just too many memories here."

Doran nodded.

"Remember that despite everything, Dorne will always welcome you with open arms." *

Your homeland was nothing like Dorne. Cold sea, steep cliffs, common trees, barren land, and a constantly cloudy sky.

And that was what gave you the slightest bit of relief. Because that's what your soul looked like, cold and inaccessible.

And in this unpleasant place, you found the perfect place to bury your memories of Oberyn. You created your own grave. You dug a hole and into it, you threw Oberyn's robe, which still smelled of him, the scarf he wrapped around you, his necklace, and the ring he gave you. And you planted forget-me-nots on the grave.

They didn't sprout the first year, and neither did the second year. In the third year, leaves appeared but there were no flowers. And you centered your entire life around them. Every day you looked after them and talked to them, asking them to bloom. You didn't care what was happening in Westeros. War, dragons, Stark's bastard… You accepted this information without blinking an eye. Only the news of Doran's death caused some reaction in you. Besides, nothing could break you out of your melancholy…

And finally! You looked at the small blue flowers with emotion. You stroked the green leaves with motherly tenderness. Your friend was surprised at your obsession.

"What's so special about them?"

"They are for Oberyn so that I will always remember him."

Your friend looked at the small flowers skeptically.

"But why forget-me-nots? Wouldn't sunflowers, tulips, or yellow roses go better with Oberyn?"

You shook your head and sat down on the ground.

"No. I know they are small flowers, but if you look closely at them, you will see that their yellow center resembles the sun and the blue petals are like water." You sighed and touched the flowers with your finger. "Like the sun dying in the sea."

Your friend looked at you with concern.

"I'm worried about you. You seem happier lately… since you saw those flowers, but…"

"Everything will be fine." You interrupted her statement. "Everything will be better now."

You looked fondly at the forget-me-nots, your friend just nodded. *

Like the sun dying in the sea.

With this thought in mind, you went to the cliff, holding a bouquet of forget-me-nots in your hands. You stood on the edge, remembering your last conversation.

"I'm begging you, Oberyn… This is not a human, this is some kind of monster… A giant!"

Oberyn smiled at you and brushed the hair away from your worried face.

"He is a very clumsy and slow giant and I will kill him."

His calmness didn't soothe you at all. You were terrified and placed your hands on his chest.

"If you die, I swear I will end my life by jumping off a cliff!"

Oberyn put down his wine glass and looked at you gently. He cupped your face in his hands.

"If I die, plant forget-me-nots for me in the barren land to remember me. If they bloom, then you can jump off a cliff." He rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs. "But that will never happen, because today is not the day I die." *

"But you died…" you whispered, standing over the edge and clutching the forget-me-nots to your chest.

Tears began to flow down your cheeks and you felt a warmth on your back, as if his spirit was hugging you. The wind from the sea blew warm air over your face, drying your tears and brushing your hair away from your face, and you heard a whisper: "I'm sorry…"

Then you took a step forward into the open and waiting arms of your loved one… *

"I'm with you Whenever you tell, my story For I am all I've done Remember, I will still be here As long as you hold me, in your memory Remember me"

Josh Groban - Remember

Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed