#game of thrones jamie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

k4marina · 1 month ago

Text

— ix. The Dragon and the Wolf || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: finally, the day of the long awaited meeting is here. while everyone prepares for the face off, you're left the wonder if things will play out like they have before or not.

warning: cersei lannister, explicit language, mentions of gore and rape (nothing too graphic), game of thrones cannon themes and violence

all dialogue in italics is Valyrian

series masterlist || next part

word count 9.8k

game of thrones x fem!modern!reader

[gif found on Pinterest]

The sun had barely broken the horizon when I was woken up. Today was the day we were meeting Cersei and presenting her with the dead. For the last few days there’d been a heavy weight on the castle as everyone got ready, deep in their own thoughts about what would happen, the good, the bad, and the worst.

It was an almost unspoken rule to even talk about what Cersei’s reaction would be. Would she agree or was this a trap and she’d been planning to kill us all right there? The tension was almost palpable.

Surprisingly, my bath was lavishly prepared by the maids. I almost told them to go empty the bathwater out and fill it with regular water, but instead I was chastised and ushered into the hot water with essential oils and rose petals mixed in.

When the fuck did we have lavender oil and rose petals?

“You’re going to go meet the would-be queen, you have to put her in her place so you must look your best,” one of the maids spoke as she dunked the water over my head. The other two maids eagerly nodded, the both of them adding in their own remarks.

“Everything must be perfect. You cannot appear to be losing sleep over her and her plotting.”

“But I’m not?” I gave a perplexed look at them.

“Exactly!”

After the bath they skillfully braided my hair, brading the top and letting the rest flow down my back in loose curls with two pieces of hair framing my face. Instead of my typical dark clothes I wore a long burgundy coat with a fitted bodice and leather detailing with a flared out waistline. My shoulders were covered in textured leather pauldrons and my forearms were covered in matching leather braces. The coat was secured at the waist with a belt and my hands were covered in leather gloves with the fingertips cut off. My dark wool pants were stuffed into knee high brown leather boots and a chain that slightly resembled Daenerys’ was pinned from one of my shoulders and across my chest with a small dragon pin sat high on my other shoulder.

I glanced at myself in the mirror, nodding in approval when there was a knock. The doors opened to Daenerys walking in and holding something long wrapped in a black cloth. The servants quietly left the two of us, closing the door shut behind them.

“How did you sleep?” She asks.

“Alright.” I replied. “Had some tea the night before. You?”

“I slept a few hours, but it appears that I should have done as you did.”

I walked over to the armor stand. “Are you ready to finally meet Cersei?” I grabbed the belt and my weapons and then turned back to her. “It’s been a long time coming after all.”

“I’m nervous.” She watches as I place my dagger in its holster by my thigh. “I can’t believe the fate of the world relies on Cersei Lannister.”

I nodded, reaching for my belt. “Crazy times we’re’a livin’ in.”

She doesn’t reply, placing her hand atop of mine when I go to hook my sword.

“Ever since you brought it back I’ve been thinking about what I should do with it.” Carefully, she unwraps the thing in her hands. “And I realize, after everything, I want you to have it.”

She pulls out Dark Sister and moves my hand away from my sword and to the Valyrian blade, securing my fingers around it.

“Daenerys.” My eyes flicked between her and the sword. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” She squeezed hand. “And I’m certain that the only person in this world that deserves to wield it is you.”

I took in a breath, shakily exhaling. I already took a gamble going to that cave in the first place, but this was something I’d never imagined. Slowly, I pulled the blade out of its scabbard, seeing my reflection in the Valyrian steel blade. She’s had the sword polished and the handle cleaned of any rust restoring it to its true glory.

This wasn’t Daenerys just giving me a sword, she was giving me a piece of her family's history, a relic that’s passed down from generation to generation. The amount of trust she had for me almost made me cry. I could feel the sword double in weight in my hands, a new wave of responsibility falling over me.

I let out a breath and tightened my grip. “I swear to you, that I will serve you until my dying breath.” I took a moment before continuing. “I swear to be your shield and keep your counsel, by the Old Gods and the New.”

Daenerys’ eyes shimmered as she said the next part, nearly choking over the words. “And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New.”

We both smiled, the both of us on the verge of crying. With a laugh we leaned in and embraced each other.

I pulled back, sheathing Dark Sister and attaching it to my belt. “Alright,” I said, clearing my throat. “Let’s go meet Cersei Lannister.”

––

The ship was ready to leave by the time I’d arrived at the island docks. The sails were set, the three headed red dragon standing out against the black background. Someone shouts aloud, a final call for everyone to board before they’d set sail.

I stepped onto the ship, wearing the same black cloak I’d taken to Eastwatch flowing behind me. The crew worked efficiently to set sail, raising the anchor and leaving the port swiftly. I stood at the front of the ship, looking out into the sea.

“You seem the most calm.” Jon says, coming to stand by me.

“Would it help if I was hysterical?”

He looks forward. “No. It’s good that you’re composed. Someone has to be.”

I slowly nodded. “How did your men take you pledging your allegiance to Daenerys?”

He looks down. “They were confused to say the least, but there’s not much they could do about it now.”

“I take it Ser Davos already told you how he saw it coming?”

He nods, smirking. “You could say.”

I turned around, spotting Tyrion and Missandei walking down to the lower deck towards us.

“Okay,” I grabbed everyone’s attention. “Let’s go over everything one last time.”

“Grey Worm and the Unsullied are already at King’s Landing and the Dothraki should be arriving shortly.” Missandei says.

“When we arrive we’ll be escorted by the City’s Watch to the Dragonpit. We will all arrive first then Daenerys with her dragons.” Tyrion adds. “I’ll get up and we’ll continue with our demonstration and hopefully, Cersei agrees to help us.”

“Right well, that sounds promising.” Ser Davos muttered.

“It’s better than nothing.” I said, leaning back on the railing of the ship's bow. “We may have agreed to a mutual armistice for now, but that doesn’t mean that Cersei won’t blow us up with Wildfire, like she did to the Great Sept of Baelor.”

Missandei glanced down at my waist and frowned. “Is that a new sword?”

“New? Not technically.” I brought my sword forwards. Tyrion's eyes raked over the sword before staring wide eyed at me.

Jon, also quickly realized what I had in my hand.

“Is that?” Jon askes.

“Dark Sister.” I finished. I nodded, holding it closer to him. “Her Grace gave it to me.”

Tyrion looked like his jaw was stuck open. “How? It was lost North of the Wall.”

“And now I’ve found it.”

Jon carefully eyes the sword, finally understanding. “This is what you were looking for beyond the wall?”

I nodded, “it was. Truth be told I wasn’t expecting it to be there, so imagine my surprise when I did find it.”

“Forgive me, what is Dark Sister?” Missandei asked.

Tyrion’s quick to reply. “It’s one of the two ancestral swords of House Targaryen.”

“It was first wielded by Queen Visenya Targaryen and then hundred of years later, Brynden Rivers, the last one to wield it, took it with him beyond the Wall and since then it’d been lost.” I said. “When Jon and his men were going to Eastwatch I took it as an opportunity to go look for this, as well.”

I sheathed the sword, my left hand coming to rest on it naturally. “We’ve got one of the two in our possession now.”

“You think you can get the other one?” Ser Davos asks.

“Where is it?” Jon asks aloud.

“If I recall correctly, Aegor RIvers took the sword with him when he went to live in exile in Essos; however, nothing is known about it after that.” Varys replied.

“Forget about it.” I waved my hand, dismissively. “We have other things to worry about, like a certain Lannister queen.”

––

The long hours had dragged on but we were finally there. In the distance, we could see Aegon’s hill and the Red Keep. Next to the castle’s harbor were all the remaining ships of Euron Greyjoy, who was still rotting away in Dragonstone’s cells. Tyrion, Theon, and Varys stood on deck, looking off into the distance at the castle. Jon, Jorah, Missandei, and I stood on the foredeck, also taking in the sight in front of us.

“How many people live here?” Jon asks Tyrion.

“A million, give or take.” He replied.

“That’s more people than the entire North crammed into that. Why would anyone want to live that way.”

“There’s more work in the city,” Tyrion says. He turned to Jon. “And their brothels are far superior.”

I shook my head. “I forget you used to be a connoisseur of brothels.”

Once we were docked and unloaded we were led through King’s Landing by carriage. I pulled my hood over my head, concealing myself. The less attention I attracted, the better our plan would go.

The carriage halted and one of the City’s Watch’s men opened the door. Everyone stepped out, glancing up at the remains of the Dragonpit.

“Follow this path,” a Gold Cloak ordered.

We walked ahead of the Dothraki guards we’d brought along. Jon, Tyrion, Jorah, Missandei, and Davos walked ahead while Varys, Theon, and Sandor and I walked further back. Sandor was in charge of making sure the crate was not touched by anyone other than him.

“Why did they build it?” Missandei asked aloud.

“Dragons don’t understand the difference between what is theirs and what isn’t.” Jorah explained, a slight sadness in his tone. “Land, livestock, children… Letting them roam free around a city was a problem.”

“I imagine it was a sad joke at the end.” Tyrion siad. “An entire area for a few sickly creatures smaller than dogs. But in the beginning when it was home to Balerion the Dread, it must have been the most dangerous place in the world.”

We approached a crossroad, spotting Lannister guards marching from the road that led to the Red Keep. They were led by Ser Bronn of the Blackwater and accompanied by Brienna of Tarth and Pocrick Payne.

“Welcome, my lords.” Bronn said. “Your friends arrived before you did.”

The Dothraki and their leader, Qhono, looked at them with suspicion while Brienne and Sandor exchanged looks, the former surprised that the latter wasn’t dead.

“I’ve been sent to escort you all to the meeting.” Bronn waves his hand and the Lannister guards part, clearing the path for us. Tyrion motions to Qhono to take the lead, the rest of the Dothraki moving forwards with the rest of us behind.

“A pleasant surprise in an unpleasant situation.” Tyrion says to Podrick.

“I never thought I’d see you again, My Lord.” Pordrick gives him a small smile.

“Supporting the enemy, no less.” Tyrion jests.

“Hard to blame you.”

“Cersei will anyway.”

They share a glance before Podrick sets his eyes forwards. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

“Come on!” Bronn looks back at the two. “You can suck his magic cock later.”

The Lannister guards behind us eyed the crate with curiosity, muttering amongst themselves before one of them had the courage to ask.

“What’s in there?”

Sandro glared back at him and let out a gruff, “fuck off.”

Ahead, Brienne slowed her pace to match Sandor’s, “I thought you were dead.”

“Not yet.” He said. “You came pretty close.”

“I was only trying to protect her.” She reasoned.

“You and me both.”

“She’s alive.” She turned to him. “Arya.”

Surprised, Sandro asks, “where?”

“Winterfell.”

“Who’s protecting her if you’re here?”

Brienne shook her head. “The only one that needs protecting is the one who gets in her way.”

“It won’t be me.” They both smiled like proud parents, falling into a comfortable silence between the two.

Tyrion and Bronn shared quips at one another for the rest of the walk uphill. The remains of the once beautiful arena came into sight. Lannister banners were hung up high, as a show of power. Sandor attends to the cart that was transporting the wight, bringing it down to the lower level of the pit.

“Anyone touches it, I’ll kill you first.”

The rest of the party entered the ruined pits taking their seats while they waited for Cersei to arrive. Like clockwork, she, the Mountain, Qyburn, and Jaime arrived. Cersei and Tyrion exchanged glances, Cersei glaring daggers directly at him. The “royal” party seats themselves on their respective sides, stoic. The Hound and the Mountain glare at each other from across the pit ready for a throwdown.

The Cleganes size each other up before the dais.

“Remember me?” Sandor glared at his brother's bloodshot and glazed eyes. “Yeah you do. You’re even fucking uglier than I am now. What did they do to you? Doesn’t matter. That’s not how it ends for you, brother. You know who’s coming for you. You’ve always known.”

With a final glare, Sandor walks away, the Mountain watches him go before taking his place behind Cersei.

“Where is she?” Cersei asks Tyrion, who’s eyes had been on his fiddling hands.

“She’ll be here soon.”

“She didn’t travel with you?” She nearly scoffs.

“No.” Tyrion replied.

In the distance footsteps could be heard, Cersei raising her head to see who it was. I walked up the stairs to the Dragonpit, my clock long left behind. I held her hostile gaze as I spoke.

“Her Grace will be here shortly.”

She masks her confusion well as I take a seat next to Daenerys’ empty seat. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs, my eyes staring running across the Lannister banners hung up on the ruined walls that were hung up just for the summit.

I had to give it to Cersei, she was good at emotional warfare. Holding the summit at the ruined Dragonpit was a way for her to remind Daenerys of her family and their dragon’s fate in a subtle way. This is what happened to your family, and I’ll make sure that the same happens to you, is what Cersei was trying to say.

Everyone waits, Cersei growing more agitated by the minute. She folded her hands on her lap, gripping them tightly. Then, just as she was about to speak, dragons screech. Cersei finches while Jaime and Bronn rush to stand up and crane their necks to watch the dragons flying overhead. Viserion and Rhaegal circled around the Dragonpit. Drogon lets out a deep roar as he flys down, powerfully landing on the collapsed walls of the pit and shaking the ground. Jon and Davos look on as Drogon takes in a deep breath and roars loudly, nearly shaking the ground. He roars again, directly at Cersei, lowering his head to reveal Daenerys on his back.

“Beautiful aren’t they?” I said to Cersei, keeping my eyes on the dragons. Drogon climbs down and Daenerys begins to dismount. I turned to meet Cersei’s eyes. “They’re so big that it’s hard to forget that they’re only six years old.”

All of us, except for Cersei and her party, raise as Daenerys walks up the dais as Drogon flies away. I cleared my throat, preparing to take another jab at Cersei.

“We are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains.”

The two queens eye one another as Danerys takes a seat between Tyrion and I. The rest of us sit down after her, the meeting finally beginning. Missandei gives me an amused look, happy that I’d added more salt to Cersei’s wound.

“We’ve been here for some time.” Cersei says, angry.

“My apologies,” Daenerys replied, lacking any sympathy and refusing to elaborate. Daenerys looks to Tyrion who stands up in response.

“We are all facing unique circumstances.” He steps to the middle of the dais. “We are a group of people who do not like one another. We have suffered at each other’s hands.” He holds Cersei’s gaze. “We have lost people who we love at each other’s hands. If all we wanted was more of the same, there would be no need for this gathering. We are entirely capable of waging war against each other without meeting face-to-face.”

“So instead, we should settle our differences and live together in harmony for the rest of our days?” Sarcasm and venom drips off of Cersei’s words.

“We all know that will never happen.” Tyrion folds his hands in front of him.

“Then why are we here?”

Jon stands and walks forwards to make his case, Tyrion standing off to the side. “This isn’t about living in harmony. It’s just about living. The same thing is coming for all of us. A general you can’t negotiate with an army that doesn’t leave corpses behind on the battlefield. Lord Tyrion tells me a million people live in this city. They’re about to become a million more soldiers in the Army of the Dead.”

“I imagine for more of them it would be an improvement.” Cersei says, poking fun at the poverty in King’s Landing.

“This is serious. I won’t be here if it weren’t” Jon pressed.

“I don’t think it’s serious at all. I think it’s another bad joke.” She turns to Daenerys. “If my brother Jaime has informed me correctly, you’re asking me for a truce.”

“Yes. That’s all.” Daenerys replies.

“That’s all?” She almost laughs. “Pull back my armies and stand down while you go on your monster hunt. Or while you solidify and expand your position. Hard for me to know which it is with my armies pulled back until you return and march on my capital with four times the men.”

“Your capital will be safe until the Northern threat is dealt with. You have my word.”

“The word of a would-be usurper.” Cerseir grits her teeth,

“Like your husband?” I jabbed. “Or do you mean yourself?”

Quickly, Tyrion continued to negotiate. “There is no conversation that will erase the past fifty years.” He looks directly at Cersei and Jaime. “We have something to show you.”

The Hound walks up the steps from the lower lever of the pit, carrying the crate on his back, secured by ropes. He brings it to the middle of the summit, both Jon and Tyrion standing far off to the side. Sandor staggers to his knees, dropping the crate down. He removed the chains and pins that secured the crate one by one, throwing them haphazardly to the side. He pries off the lid, fumbling as he gets nervous of what was in it, before fully removing it and throwing it to the side. He takes several steps back, eyes not once wavering away and his hand grips the hilt of his sword.

Everyone watches the crate, but when nothing happens he kicks the crate forwards to reveal the wight, who immediately charges forwards to Cersei, screeching loudly. Cersei recoils, leaning back in her chair and frozen in fear as it got only an arm's length away from her. It goes to reach out for her but it’s roughly jerked back and thrown onto the floor. The Hound holds the chain attached to the wight's collar while the other end is attached to the bottom of the crate.

The wight then sets his eyes on the Hound, now charging at him. Sandor draws his sword and cuts the wight in half right through the waist, but it does nothing as its legs keep kicking. I glance at Cersei who’s had a mix of confusion, disgust, and fear written on her face. She was seeing something that everyone thought was impossible. The wight’s toros crawls towards the Hound, still screeching terribly. The Hound brings his sword up and slices through the wight’s rotted hand as it reaches for him.

Everyone watches in horror except for Qyburn who wordlessly steps forwards to pick up the still moving hand and forearm, examining it with pure fascination.

Jon, grabs an until torch and Ser Davos lights with a flint. Jon takes the hand from Qyburn. “We can destroy them by burning them.” He moves the torch to the hand, igniting it. The other halves of the wight squirm and let out a high pitch scream. Jon drops the hand as it burns and hands the torch back to Ser Davos.

He draws a dragonglass dagger from his side and grabs the wight's other hand holding up its torso. “And we can destroy them with dragonglass.” He drives the dagger into the wight's heart. It lets out a screech, scrambling to get away before falling still, lifeless.

“If we don’t win this fight, then that,” he points at the dead wight, “is the fate of every person in the world.”

He steps closer to Cersei. “There is only one war that matters: the Great War. And it is here.”

Cersei, for once, finds herself at a loss for words.

“We were ambushed by them,” I said to her. “When we traveled North of Eastwatch. They were everywhere, some of us thought that we were about to join the Night King’s army.”

“How many?” Jaime asks.

“Nearly two hundred-thousand, and growing by the minute.”

His face falls, the reality of the situation now dawning on them. Everyone watched on bated breath for Cersei to finally speak.

She keeps her hands folded, eyes on her lap. “If those things come for us, there will be no kingdoms to rule. Everything we’ve suffered will have been for nothing. Everything we’ve lost would be for nothing.” She raises her head to Daenerys. “The Crown accepts your truce. Until the dead are defeated, they are the true enemy.”

Relief floods everyone, grateful that she’d seen the truth. I eyed her suspiciously, careful to not get too optimistic.

She turned to Jon. “In return, the King in the North will extend this truce. He will remain in the North where he belongs, he will not take up arms against the Lannisters. He will not choose a side.”

“Just the King in the North? Not me?” Daenerys says.

Cersei gives her a bitter smile. “I would never ask it of you. You would never agree to it, and if you did I would trust you even less than I do now.” She turns back to Jon. “I only ask it of Ned Stark's son. I know Ned Stark's son will be true to his word.”

Cersei watched him, expecting him to agree while the rest of us prayed he would lie and not say a word about his allegiance to Daenerys.

“I am true to my word, or I try to be.” He takes a moment to find his words. “That is what I cannot give you what you ask. I cannot serve two queens. And I have already pledged myself to Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen.”

Daenerys sucks in a breath, clenching her jaw and Cersei abruptly stands.

“Then there is nothing left to discuss. The dead will come for the North fist. Enjoy dealing with them. We will deal with whatever is left of you.” She walks away from the gathering, her Queensgaurd swifty following her. Bewildered, Jaime scrambles after her but is stopped by Brienne.

“Ser Jaime,” she calls.

“It’s been good to see you. I imagine the next time will be across a battlefield.” Jaime quickly moves, but Brienne goes to stand in his way.

“We both saw what just happened. We both saw… that thing.”

“Yes, I’m not looking forward to seeing more of them. But I’m loyal to the Queen, and you’re loyal to Sansa and her dolt brother so-”

“Fuck loyalty,” she hits his shoulder. Jaime stops in his tracks at her words.

“Fuck loyalty?” He echos.

“This is beyond houses and honor and oaths.” She pressed him further. “Talk to the Queen.”

Jaime looks over Briennes' shoulder to see Cersei watching him stand there with Breinne, a twinge of jealousy in her eyes.

“And tell her what?” He doesn’t give her time to reply, rushing back to Cersei’s side, leaving the Dragonpit.

Ser Davos, staring at Jon, shakes his head. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”

“I’m grateful for your loyalty,” Daenerys stands in front of Jon. “But we’ve risked far too much for all of this to mean nothing.”

“I’m pleased you bend the knee, but have you ever considered learning how to lie? Every now and then, just a little?” Tyrion sighed.

“I’m not going to swear an oath I can’t uphold. Talk about my father if you want, tell me that’s the attitude that got him killed. But when enough people make false promises, words stop meaning anything. Then there are no more answers, only better and better lies. And lies won’t help us in this fight.”

“That is indeed a problem. The more immediate problem is that we’re fucked.” Tyrion runs a hand down his beard.

“Any idea as to how we might change that state of affairs?” Davos asks.

“Only one,” Tyrion says. “Everyone stays here and I go talk to my sister.”

Daenerys shakes her head, hating the idea. “I didn’t come all this way to have my Hand murdered.”

“I don’t want Cersei to murder me either. I could have just stayed in my cell and saved a great deal of trouble.” Tyrion replied.

“I did this, I should go.” Jon suggests.

“She’ll definitely murder you.” Tyrion deadpanned.

“I’ll go with him,” I stood from my chair, stretching out my back. Daenerys shoots me a glare, but I stop her from saything anything. “I’ll be there if she gets a little too trigger happy and stop it.”

“You can’t. Neither of you can.” She argued. I grabbed her hand, leaning in so that only she could hear me. “Remember when I said that Jaime would be an asset?” She nods. “I think now might be the time.”

“Besides,” I pulled away, going to stand my Tyrion. “If she even touches a hair on either of us you can burn down the Red Keep with her in it.”

“Shall we?” I look towards Tyrion. He nods, bowing to Daenerys and then the two of us were on our way.

––

A group of Lannister guards stood outside the Dragonpit. Two Unsullied guards, who were sent by Dany, stood behind us. They glanced over to us as we stepped closer to them.

Tyrion cleared his throat. “I need to speak with my sister.”

The guards shared a few glances, but ultimately allowed it. They lead us down the hill silently, only sparingly glancing back to us. We walked along the Street of Flower to the Red Keep, the bustling city street rushing past us. Street vendors called out to potential customers, the merchant vendors flaunted their goods, and children ran up and down the street, playing with one another.

“Not that I mind, My Lady, but you’ve come along to do more than make sure Cersie doesn’t put my head on a spike.” Tyrion glances towards me.

“You are correct, My Lord.”

“Can I ask what your purpose is?”

“To talk to your brother and knock some sense into his big head.”

“Ah, well, do have fun with that. It’s not as if I haven’t tried to do the same for my entire life.” He jests. He thinks back to the many times he’s had to sit down with his dear brother and talk him out of Cersei’s grasp, only for him to talk in circles and hit a brick wall, but something deep down told him that perhaps I might be the one to finally get him to listen.

The city streets of the Capital were far different than what I could have imagined. It was off putting, truth be told. I’d spent a good chunk of my life living in King’s Landing in the modern world, surrounded by cars, buses, skyscrapers, and highrises. Seeing how the city used to be hundreds of years ago was slightly dystopian. Everything seemed so familiar, yet so different, it was both off putting and comforting.

We were led up into the castle through a side entrance, the Kingsgaurd not warning to grab any attention from the public anymore than they already had. We were led into an underground portion of the castle and down various different tunnels that Maegor the Cruel had built during his reign. It looked like over the many years as the tunnels were being rediscovered the guards had started to use them as a way of quickly moving around the castle.

Out in the distance I could hear something shift around, as if it were trying to stay hidden from us. I paused, and looked around, catching everyone’s attention. I waited for the sound again, glancing around the tunnel.

One of the Queensgaurd, annoyed, spoke up. “Keep walking, woman.”

The Unsullied stepped closer to me, but I motioned for them to stand down, not wanting a blood bath. Just as I was about to give up, the sound arose again this time louder. I walked over to the darkness, where the torch's light couldn’t reach and peered into the darkness.

Two feline eyes peeked out of the darkness, a low hissing sound coming from it. I crouched down, and held my hands open for the cat, having a sneaking suspicion I knew who it could be.

“It’s okay,” I said as softly as I could. “No one’s going to hurt you. Come out, please.”

The cat hissing grew louder and louder, but the cat still cautiously stepped out of the shadows. It was a black tomcat with one ear. If you looked carefully, one ear was chewed and the other torn off.

“It’s okay, honey, I’ll keep you safe. It’s okay to come out, Balerion.”

The cat's hissing stopped, as if it had been pulled out of a trance. A look of familiarity glossed over the feline's eyes and its hostility dampened. After all these years he was addressed as “you” or “it” or “bastard” or anything else, he was finally addressed by his actual name.

Balerion.

I reached out slowly and scooped the cat up in my hands, cradling it near my chest. Apprehensively, he turned itself closer to me, still worried that I might be a threat. I stood up and turned back to the men. One of the Queensgaurd shook his head and spat out a misogynistic comment and then started walking again.

“I never took you as a cat person.” Tyrion said.

“I like all kinds of animals, but this one,” I glanced down at the black cat, “this one's special.”

We finally emerged onto the Middle Bailey out by the armory and were led up the winding Serpentine Steps and into Maegor's Holdfast where the two Unsullied were told to stand outside. I handed off the cat to one of the men, ordering him to protect the cat with his life. The Mountain waited for us by the steps and wordlessly led us up the staircase to wherever Cersei was or possibly our death.

He led the two of us down a corridor of the Keep towards Cersei’s chamber. Oddly enough, the place hadn’t changed that much in my time. A portion of the Keep had been turned into a part of the University of King’s Landing, which I attended, and the rest was a museum.

Tyrion looked up at the Mountain who towered over the two of us, and no doubt could kill either one of us. We turned to a corridor and at the end of it was Jaime, waiting for us, and the doors to Cersei’s chambers closed.

“You brought her,” Jaime's points out, eyeing me.

I raised my hands up, showing I meant no harm to him. “Don’t worry, nothing up my sleeve. Just here as a delegate.”

“You spoke with her.” Tyrion states.

“At her.” He corrected. “Until she kicked me out. She thinks I was an idiot to trust you. A lot of people seem to think that, actually.”

“I’m about to step into a room with the most murderous woman in the world, who’s already tried to kill me. Twice. That I know of. Who’s an idiot?”

Jaime almost smiles, “I suppose we should say goodbye, one idiot to another.”

Tyrion nods and the Mountain opens the door. With a deep breath, Tyrion steps into the room to go speak with his sister with the Mountain following closely behind, closing the door behind him leaving Jaime and I alone.

We stood in silence, the two of us glancing at each other when the other wasn’t looking.

“I was there,” I began, leaning against the wall.

Jaime frowns not knowing what I meant.

“At Highgarden.”

“On the other dragon?” He recounts.

I nodded. “Yes and when you left Olenna’s room.” I said, catching him off guard. “I entered right after you’d left.”

He suspiciously narrows his eyes towards me. “What are you trying to get at?”

“Nothing, just wanted to give me condolences for the death of your child, well, all of them, really. Sweet Myrcella and Tommen, and I guess Joffrey too. No parent should ever have to outlive their children.”

Jaime hardens his jaw, his throat’s apple bobs up as he swallows down.

“But, I can’t help but wonder why you’re still with her. I mean, in some way she’s at fault for your kids' deaths, and you're still with her.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m afraid I do. Joffrey, he was a spoiled cunt, knew how to dress, but Gods still a cunt. He even tortured and murdered those prostitutes in his chambers just for sport. If she’d raised him right maybe he would have turned out better. And then Myrcella, Gods, poor her. Living her best life in Dorne only for her to be killed just so it would hurt Cersei. She died in your arms, right? You’d finally had that one father-daughter moment you’d been deprived of just for her to die in your arms. And Tommen, I mean what kind of mother is she? Rather than mourning the loss of her baby boy, like you were, she says that he betrayed her?” I shake my head. “I don’t get how you don’t blame her for their deaths, I know I would.”

“How do you know all this?” He rasps out.

Ignoring him, I continued. “I mean, I understand you fell in love with her when you were young. But when are you going to wake up and realize that she’s not the same Cersei anymore?”

“You’re wrong,” He shook his head.

“No I’m not. Deep down, you know I’m right. What kind of “Queen” blows up the Great Sept of Baelor with hundreds of people in it? What kind of Queen allows her people to starve while she eats and drinks all day long? What kind of Queen puts her own ego above the good of mankind when faced with the Army of the Dead? A woman that doesn’t deserve to be a Queen.”

“And you think Daenerys is better?” He tried to defend Cersei. “She’s a foreigner-”

“She was born on Dragonstone and forced to live in exile or die. Her family has ruled Westeros for nearly three hundred years, and before that they lived on a little island in Blackwater Bay.” I said, exasperated. “I understand the Mad King has left some scars, and I don’t blame you for doing what you did, but you need to stop thinking with your cock and with your brain instead. They wouldn’t have let her live if she was on Dragonstone. That thing in there, the Mountain? He stabbed a little girl, her niece, over fifty times, bashed her little brothers head in and then raped their mother with their blood on them before killing her as well, and your sister parades him around as her Queensgaurd.”

I took in a deep breath, composing myself. “Everything is laid out. You know which queen stands for what values and now it’s your turn to decide who you want to stand by.”

The doors quickly open, revealing Cersei and Tyrion behind her. She looks between Jaime and I, but says nothing. Wordlessly, she walks, prompting the rest of us to follow her. The Mountain followed close by as we followed her out of the Red Keep and back to the Dragonpit.

Jon and Daenerys were stood talking to each other when we arrived, shocked to see Cersei and her people back.

“My armies will not stand down.” She begins. “I will not pull them back to the capital.” She paused for a moment. “I will march them north, to fight alongside you in the Great War. The darkness is coming for us all. We will face it together.”

Shocked, everyone looks at Cersei and then Tyrion. “And when the Great War is over, perhaps you will remember I chose to help with no promises or assurances from any of you. I expect not.” She turns to Qyburn and gives the order, “call our banners. All of them.”

With that, she turns to leave. Before Jaime can leave, I grab his arm, leaning in. “When she goes against her word, send a raven to me.” I let go of his arm and step up the dais to stand next to Daenerys, watching the rest of them leave.

––

Daenerys and I sat around the table watching Balerion walking along the Painted Table, knocking over the figurines we’d placed on it. It entertained himself well, pouncing on the Lion on King’s Landing and leaving an array of scratches on it, while it playfully toyed with the Dragon on Dragonstone.

“I can’t believe it.” Dany said. Her eyes never left the cat’s taking in it’s every move.

I shake my head. “To think that that cat was the last living thing that saw your niece and nephew before their murder. I can’t imagine the horrors he’s had to see.”

Balerion walked over to us and leaned in. Dany smiled and reached out to pet him only for him to recoil and hiss. Dany frowned, and moved her hand back, surprised.

I laughed, reaching into my pocket. “I think he’s hungry.” I pulled a piece of dried fish out of a small bag and held it up to him. He sniffed the treat and immediately pounced on it. I handed another piece to Dany and encouraged her to feed him. Like before, Balerion sniffed the fish and then ate it happily.

The door’s opened and Jon and the rest of them entered, ready for the meeting. Startled, Balerion jumped down into my lap and hissed at the people who entered. I held him close, softly housing him as the others took their seat. I gave him another piece of dried fish as Daenerys started the meeting.

“We’ve got our armies,” she spoke. “But how do we get to Winterfell?”

“If we have the Dothraki ride hard on the Kingsroad, they’ll arrive at Winterfell within a fortnight.” Jon suggested.

Daenerys nods, “and the Unsullied?”

“We can sail with them to White Harbor and meet the Dothraki here on the Kings Road, then ride together to Winterfell.” Jon pointed to the long stretch of road that reached from the capital to Winterfell.

“Perhaps you should fly to Winterfell, Your Grace,” Jorah stepped forwards. “You have many enemies in the North. Thousands fell fighting your father. All it takes is one angry man with a crossbow– he’ll see your silver hair on the Kingsroad and know that one well placed bolt will make him a hero: The Man Who Killed the Conqueror.”

Danerys nods, agreeing with Jorah's sentiments, and goes to speak, but is stopped by Jon.

“It’s your decision, Your Grace. But if we’re going to be allies in this war, it’s important for the Northerners to see us as allies. If we sail to White Harbor together, I think it sends a better message.”

She weighed her options, seeing the logic and faults in both arguments. She turned to Jorah. “I’ve not come to conquer the North. I’m coming to save the North.” She turned to Jon, nodding, “we sail together.”

Jon bows his head, a slight smile on his lips and Jorah back’s down.

“When we arrive at White Harbor, I’ll have to make a detour.” I said.

“For what?” Daenerys asks.

“A young wolf’s crown,” I said cryptically. “I need to go to the Twins, but I will rejoin you all before we’ve stepped foot in Winterfell.”

Understanding, Daenerys nods. It’s not the first time I’d gone off alone, and every time I’ve come back I’ve brought back something that has benefited her.

“How is the dragon's food?” She asks Varys.

“We’ve got plenty of food, Your Grace. Lady Vellarys’ suggestion to appeal to the island villagers worked. Almost all of them have offered to give two or three of their livestocks.” He reported.

“Have a few sail boats with food ready for King’s Landing, we’ll be needing them soon.” I ordered.

“For the city?” Tyrion asks.

“Yes, they’re starving and we’re going to be their saving grace, well, Daenerys is.” I turned back to Varys. “And keep your eyes open for any ravens coming from the Red Keep.”

Jon narrowed his eyes. “You don’t think she’ll send her army north.”

I nodded, “I’m hoping she proves me wrong, given her current circumstance, but this is Cersei Lannister. She thinks she’s the smartest woman alive when in fact it’s the opposite.”

The meeting ended smoothly, everyone knowing what they had to do now. I was the last to leave, spotting Jon and Theon having their long awaited talk. I decided to walk around the castle, needing to clear my head and plan what to do next. When I walked towards the docks I saw Theon giving orders to his men and Ironborn ships in the docks.

“You’re leaving, I assume?” I asked.

“Yes, My Lady. My sister has taken the Iron Islands and I must return to her.” He replied.

“And your beloved uncle is going as well?”

He nodded. “Euron will be punished for his crimes however Yara sees fit.”

“And your conversation with Jon?”

“Good,” he nods, fiddling with his hands. “We’ve..” He tried to find the right words.

“Reconciled?”

“Yes. Reconciled.” He looks down and then back up to me. “I want to thank you for.. that night. I almost.. lost my sister, and if it weren’t for your words I wouldn’t have found it in myself to speak to Jon again.”

“There’s no need to thank me. I only said a few words, you were the one who found it in yourself to do those things.”

An Ironborn, already aboard the ship, makes the final call for the crew, raising the sails. I stuck my hand out to Theon. “Stay safe, Lord Greyjoy.”

Our fingers wrap around each other's forearms, giving a squeeze and light shake.

“You as well, Lady Vellarys.”

He walks up to the ramp of the ship, boarding and orders the vessel to start moving. I watched on as the Ironborn ships left the ports and further and further away.

––––

It was late in the evening, Daenerys and I were sat together in her room, having our supper. The food was spread all over the table, meat, fruit, stew, bread, and deserts. A pitcher of wine sat in between us. I poured myself a glass, swirling the white almost golden wine and took a swig.

“Arbor Gold,” I placed my glass down. “Do you know how much this would cost someone like me during my time? Thousands, hundreds maybe, millions. And here I am, sitting next to you, having dinner, and sipping on one of the finest wines in all of Westeros.”

“Now that we have control of Highgarden, you can drink all the Arbor Gold you what,” she smiled.

“Oh, believe me, I will.”

Daenerys sets her fork and knife down, folding her hands in front of her. “We’re going to be leaving for Winterfell soon.”

“We will,” I mirrored her stance.

“I want to know what I’ll be facing.”

I raised my brows and thought back, “well. They don’t like you. Partly because of your father, but also because you’re an outsider, as in not being from the North. The main person you should be wary of is Sansa Stark, Ned’s eldest daughter. She, her father and her younger sister, Arya, traveled to King’s Landing almost seven years ago. Ned was to be Robert’s hand after Jon Arryn was killed and Sansa was Joffery Lannister’s betrothed, but we both know how that went. Her sister and her were separated the day of Ned’s execution and while Arya bounced around Westeros and Essos, Sansa was imprisoned in the Red Keep at Cersei and Joffrey’s mercy. She was humiliated and belittled by both and then forced to marry Tyrion-”

“Tyrion?!” She almost shouts, surprised.

I nodded. “Both of them didn’t want it, but he was a good husband, never made her do anything and defended her even at his own expense. After Joffrey was poisoned she escaped by the help of Littleginger, Pyter Baelish who’s a mess and a half himself, and the two escape to the Vale where Sansa’s aunt, Lysa, former widow of Jon Arryn, was waiting for them. Baelish and Lysa married, which made him Lord of the Vale, which was his main goal, and then he later killed Lysa, who killed her husband under Littlefinger's orders.”

“What a charmer.”

“Tell me about it. But don’t worry about him, he’s dead or should be by now.”

“That’s comforting.”

“Anyways,” I waved my hand. “After securing the Vale, he sells Sansa off to Ramsey Bolton, who’s one of the families that betrayed the Starks at the Red Wedding. Ramsey was a sadistic fuck, born a bastard and couldn’t seem to move past it and made it his entire personality. She was once again a prisoner, except in her own home. It wasn’t until Theon, who was also imprisoned and tortured by Ramsey, helped her escape as well as Brienne of Tarth, then she was reunited with Jon at Castle Black. Jon, enraged, pleaded to almost every house in the North for support, and got almost none, waged a war on Ramsey – we called it the Battle of the Bastards. Jon nearly died, but the Knights of the Vale came just in time to help, and Jon was able to take back Winterfell.”

“I can’t imagine what horrors she’s seen.” Dany shook her head, her heart breaking for the poor girl.

“We need to empathize with her, Dany. Share your experiences, show her that you’re not so different after all. Two girls, no family, alone in an unknown place trying to find themselves back home. It’s going to be difficult, she’s a Stark and Starks are hard headed, you’ve seen how Jon is.”

She shakes her head, understanding my words and the importance of them. “You said her younger sister was in Essos?”

“Arya. She’s more like her aunt, Lyanna. Less “ladylike” and more “I want to be a knight and go on adventures,” her and Jon have a really close relationship. She went to Braavos to learn the way of the Faceless Men, once she did she came back to Westeros, laid waste to House Frey and then traveled to Winterfell.”

“And what is her attitude towards us?”

“Positive, from what I recall. She still has her Northern mentality, but she looks up to strong female figures; Nymeria of Ny Sar and Visenya Targaryen to name a few.”

“And the Crown you referred to, of the wolf? Was it Robb Starks?”

“It’s still in the Twins, hidden in some treasure chest. I think if we give it to them, especially Sansa, as a sign of good faith to the Starks and the North they won’t be so hostile.”

“And you think you can find it?”

“I have to try.” I shrugged. “If I find it then we start off on the right foot with the Starks, if we don’t then we’re going to have to work harder.”

Daenerys’ eye trails off to the right, a servant just entering with a worried expression.

“I apologize for the intruding, Your Grace, but a raven from King’s Landing has arrived for Lady Vellarys.”

–––

The tension in the room was palpable, everyone staring off, almost defeated. The message that we’d just received sat at the table in front of us.

You were right. She’s refused to send the army North. Cersei has betrayed us. – J.L

Jon stood at the end of the table, seething with anger, feeling foolish that he believed Cersei at all. Daenerys sat at the head of the table, hands folded in front of her. Tyrion looked defeated, a goblet of wine in one hand and the other ready to reach for the pitcher to pour more. Varys had an unreadable expression, standing there with his arms crossed and eyes on the floor.

“Cersei said she’d send her armies North,” Tyrion muttered under his breath.

Angrily, Daenerys turned to him. “You trusted her, Tyrion. You said that she would never betray family.”

“I believed her. I made a mistake– we all make mistakes.” His voice came out angry and defeated.

Daenerys angrily stood up from her chair, the wooden feet scraping against the stone floor. Fire burned in her violet eyes. “She fooled you. You knew she was dangerous, but you still listened to her, trusted her.”

Tyrion shook his head, not at her words, but at his own foolishness, blinded by family. “I didn’t want to believe that she was capable of this. That she’d risk the fate of the world for the throne.”

Before Daenerys could lay into him even more I placed my hand on her shoulder, reeling her back. She turned to me and the look on my face was all she needed to know.

“You knew.” She sneered. “You knew, and you still let us meet. How could you? You were supposed to help me–”

“Daenerys.”

“No! Tell me, did you–”

“Of course I fucking knew!” I scoffed. “Did I have some hope that she’s turn a new leaf and be a good fucking human being? Yes. But deep down, just like all of you, I knew that that bitch would only think about herself.”

“What else do you think I’ve been preparing for?” I took in a deep breath, feeling a migraine approaching. Calmly, I turned to Daenerys. “We still have enough men, we still have the Dornish army, the Reach, three fucking dragons – Daenerys we have enough. We are going to win, and when we do we’re going to take the throne and put that whore’s neck on a chopping block.”

I turned to Vayrs. “Put you little birds to work. Tell them what we know; The Army of the Dead march towards us and that Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow pleaded to Cersei Lannister to help defend the Realm, but she refused. Tell them that Daenerys is marching North to fight the dead with her army and dragons. Tell them to sing her praises. Tell them if anyone else wants to fight for all of humanity alongside the rightful Queen then to march North now. Send the ships filled with aid to King’s Landing, tell them it’s from their true Queen, that she can’t stand to see her people starving in the streets, that she thinks of them in her prayers while she’s off to fight against the Night King.”

Surprised at my outwards aggression, Varys stands there, shocked only snapping back to reality when Daenerys’ sharp eyes are on him He quickly bows his head, muttering a “as you wish, My Lady,” and scurried out of the room to do as he was commanded. I walked over to Daeneys, who was a bit more calm now than before, taking her hands in mine, reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, we will prevail. Don’t let this get to you. You have to think forwards and to the battles ahead. I swear to you, we will win.” She closed her eyes as we brought our foreheads together. “Rest for now, I’ll handle everything.”

Daenerys nodded. “Be sure to sleep, we have a long journey ahead of us.” She turns to leave, not sparing anyone a glance. Jon and Tyrion watch her go, wanting to say something but staying quiet at the end.

I walked to Jon, “go, comfort her. She needs you.” Without a word he dashes out the room and towards Daenerys’ chamber.

Exhausted, I take a seat at the table, closing my eyes. There's some shifting and metal clinking before Tyrion speaks.

“You’re a lot better at being the Hand than I am.” I open my eyes and catch him placing a fresh cup of win in front of me. I reached over, taking it.

“Trust me, I’m not.” I take a great swig, letting the Dornish Red run down my throat. “I wasn’t lying,” I played with the cup in my hand. “When I said that I believed her a little bit. I thought that after losing all of her children in horrific ways that she would join us to protect the one she’s pregnant with. But I guess not.”

“To be deceived by my sister,” Tyrion raises his glass as a toast.

I grimace, raising mine in agreement. “Let's never toast to this ever again.”

–––

Our day started off even before the sun had crossed the horizon. Begrudgingly, I got prepared for our long travel with the help of the servants. As the days went by, the weather got colder, and now with the Night King at our doorsteps, the days were going to get even worse.

Some servants hulled the last of my belongings down to the ships. I stood by the railing, looking down at the people working hard for our departure when Daenerys came to stand by my side.

“You were right,” She says. “Deep down I knew that she was lying, but like everyone else, I believed her. I was deceived.”

I turned to her, but spotted someone behind her. “Lord Varys.”

He bowed, addressing us both. “You were right to prepare, My Lady. My little birds tell me that the people are growing more hostile to Cersei and favoring Daenerys. It won’t be long until riots start to break out and they storm the Red Keep.”

“Do you think she will send her armies North now that the people have turned?” Daenerys asks me.

“No. That woman fears no one, not even the Gods. If she sends her armies North now it would mean swallowing her ego and giving up the throne, which is inevitable at this point.”

I glanced towards the oncoming sunrise. “By the time we’re finished with the Night King, the people of King’s Landing will open the city doors for us with welcoming arms.”

––––

Snow falls from the sky, but that doesn’t deter the Army of the Dead from marching forwards. Nothing does. The wights come out of the treeline by the dozens, all itching to feed off of a living creature. They all stand there, mindlessly looking up at the seven hundred foot tall wall made of ice and magic, the only thing standing in between them and the Seven Kingdoms.

Waves can be heard hitting the cliffside. The cold ocean wind carries all across Eastwatch. But that doesn’t do anything to them. The Army of the Dead relish in the bitter cold, they are the cold. They are the everlasting winter.

They part like the sea, letting the Night King and his entourage through. The snow crunched under the hooves of their undead horses. The Night King’s ice cold, glowing blue eyes took in the sight before him. Finally, after hundreds of years, after growing his army and his powers he was here ready to accomplish his task; utter annihilation of all mankind.

And the only thing standing in his way was a wall made of ice, holding the same magic that ran through his frozen vines made by the same beings that birthed him into this world.

He gets off his horse, leisurely walking to the ice wall. The White Walkers watch him bring his hand to the wall. He caresses it, taking in every second of this moment. Closing his eyes, he focuses his powers to a point under his hand, willing himself to break the wall.

The ground violently shakes, trees rattling and swaying side to side, and a faint crackling sound grows by the minute. The wind blows around them, threatening to rip out the trees from the earth, it howls and lets out the deafening whistle as the Night King uses more of his power. He digs his nails into the ice and the chucks of the wall start to fall from the sky. Bit by bit, the wall crumbled, hitting the ground with loud thuds and shattering on impact to more ice shards. The Night King uses more of his power and the protective magic in the ice finally breaks causing the walls foundation to crumble and give away, finally collapsing..

The wights let out a shriveling screech and charge through the fallen wall, eager to feast and lay waste to everything in sight. The Night King walks back to his horse, mounting him and making his way over the remains of Branden the Builder's greatest creation. There’s almost an excited expression on his ice cold face. He grips onto the horse's leash and he can still feel the remnants of his power at the tips of his icy fingers. So close. He’s so close to finally achieving his goal. If he could, he'd smile triumphantly.

Winter was coming.

@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @daenerys713 @ministark @laanswife @idohknow @jromanoff @bdudette @bitchyfestivalbouquet @glitteryobjecttaco @cantbecreative @lovelyteenagebeard @the0twst0shrimp0mc @sucker4seresin @marytargaryen @naneko31 @9tailedfoxfire @iilsenewman @ivyrose9194 @coffee-is-my-oxygen @mysterypotatoink @bitchycolletorvoid @nattysplatty @wifiatthetrainstation @nymeriiiia @llynx7 @pookynknowntranger @riley-625-bell @myathegoat @evilunicorns4minions @honeycola-umbra @nen-nyy

a/n: i'm back from my little vacation which means more chapters :))

149 notes · View notes

mydearviserra · 3 months ago

Note

could you do Tywin Lannister x reader headcannons about your first time with him? 💕💕

Tywin Lannister headcanon

First time (˶°ㅁ°) !!

First headcanon!! Yay

Tywin definitely put to much energy into wanting to actually do it, once Tywin and reader entered their now chambers he sees it as a chore

Joanna still hold a place in his heart so he feels guilty having to do this duty let along get married again

At first sees you as a vessel for more heirs, so he puts “effort” into letting you take off his clothes and him doing the same

He says nothing, only looking at you with a blank almost bored expression. Like you could even keep eye contact

He secretly loved the way you shuttered at his intimidating gaze, he starts to feel a bit of excitement for this

Tywin left a bit of a adrenaline rush seeing your bare body, leading you to the bed he starts to nibble at your skin.

He whispered degrading words as he nibbled at your skin, he wanted to bring you down that you won’t be the top of his list, being his wife doesn’t mean much to him etc

You left your stomach turn a mixture of feeling you Should yell and scream at him but as he touches your skin, leaving bite marks you could help but feel the burning for this touch

Tywin for sure thrust with a weakly just to annoy you, he wanted to see you beg for him he gets off by wanting to see you being desperate for him anything to boost his ego

After a while he sees the affect he has on you, your moans getting louder, your hands touching his chest etc he picks up his speed

Tywin will talk you through it since he knows this is your first time and how much he’s making you a mess he’ll tell you how good your doing, and a mixture of taunting you when he edges you

Tywin will overstimulate you, even after four orgasm the dilf STILL has stamina

Tywin will make you lick off his fingers/clean off the mess from scooping up his own cum or after you came in his fingers he’ll make you lick his fingers clean

Or when you give him a blowjob he’ll make you clean off the mess that dropped on the floor, on him or yourself

He’ll be gentle at first when you first give him a blowjob, he wanted to teach you to do it properly how he likes it once you get the hang of it you’ll literally GAG ON IT

After a while he’ll start introducing his own kinks a bit, he the first round of sex it’s just a intro especially to help you get use to his size then later In the round he’ll start adding his own on kinks but not enough to overwhelm you he didn’t want you to stop midway but he’ll start helping you find your own kinks/let you get comfortable enough to tell him

after HOURS, he’ll help clean you off and change the bed sheets. Seeing how exhausted you were he’ll let you lay on him though tbh I feel like he isn’t that MUCH of a cuddle person maybe being big spoon for a while but he so use to being on his own side of the bed it’s like he’s rusty to cuddling

Tywin will stay up longer after you fell asleep, I think he’ll just stare at you. To fully take in that YOU are his wife, you’ll be his lady and now the a mother to his kids. He will definitely give himself a headache just hearing Cersei voice being upset he took another wife and now “replacing” his first kids. Nonetheless he’ll be gentle touching your skin, like on your arm, back, cheek. Just fully taking in the unfamiliar features.

In the back of Tywin mind he for sure change a bit of his feelings about you, but he still has his guard up. It’ll take him a long time to fully trust or even care for you. He’ll keep tabs on you, watching from afar but never fully being the one to ask if your okay with this new life.

For now Tywin will let his guard slip a just a bit to hold you back after he pulled the covers over the both of you. Letting you melt against him

#headcanon #asoiaf #game of thrones #x reader #tywin lannister x reader #tywin x reader #tywin lannister smut #tywin lannister #cersei lannister #jamie lannister #tyrion lannister #fanfic

172 notes · View notes

ransprang · 1 year ago

Text

Jaime Lannister x Fem!Reader Hcs

Fueling my Nikolaj and GOT brainrot~ enjoy

NSFW and SFW -

1. Man protects you like a dawg. He will not have anyone touch you or get too close without drawing his sword the second they take a step closer (Not even your parents).

2. Jaime loves having sex the second you both are alone, he just can’t help it. A quickie in the meeting room, in his chamber, after shower. He loves it when he stands tall and you’re on your knees sucking him off as a to thank him for protecting you.

3. Jaime loves carrying you over his shoulder. He’s strong, and you’re his. In the palace he will subtly tease you by carrying you over his shoulder to your room.

4. Jaime loves restraining you, he will tackle you down, pinning your hands above your head. He likes to be in charge, and fuck you to relieve his stress from the long day of managing Cersei.

5. Jaime would like to have children with you, and possibly favour them over Joffrey. As they are his to claim to the public, and he can love them freely also protect and raise them.

6. Jaime likes being just a boy around you. No pressures to fight or decisions. He likes teasing, making jokes and possibly be obsessed with building blocks which makes you look at him sometimes think, how at the core hes just. a. guy.

7. When you watch him fight or be an exceptional swordsman you want him to fight you similarly but in the bedroom, without his clothes on and definitely with a different sword of his. You could testify Jaime was skilled with his other not so miniature sword as well.

8. Cersei would love bullying you, in order to push you away from her beloved brother. Jaime wouldnt never rage at her, but would protect you from all her evil schemes and will never let anyone or anything harm you. They will have to face him before you.

9. Jaime takes off his metal hand and stares at where his wrist used to be sometimes, but he will only show such level of sadness and vulnerability in front of you.

10. Jaime loves pounding you with your legs over his shoulders, he loves to watch your breasts bounce bringing him closer to the edge faster.

Your twin,

Admin Sav

#jaime lannister x you #jaime lannister x reader #jaime lannister #jaime lannister x y/n #jaime lannister imagine #jaime lannister fanfiction #jamie lannister #jamie lannister x reader #jamie lannister x you #jamie lannister x y/n #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fic #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic #jaime oneshot #a song of ice and fire #george martin #aerys targaryen

1K notes · View notes

scorpiusartistry · 8 months ago

Text

A Lion should never concern himself with the opinion of sheep.

Or should they, because I think the sheep would tell them all to go therapy.

Sketches of Queen Cersei Lannister, Jamie Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Tywin Lannister, Joffrey Baratheon, Myrcella Baratheon and Tommen Baratheon, my favourite dysfunctional family.

396 notes · View notes

dipperscavern · 6 months ago

Text

wait a minute

#LMAO #game of thrones #arcane #arcane season 2 #jamie lannister

152 notes · View notes

j-k-writes · 5 months ago

Note

Soulmates!au with Jaime lannister x stark male (benjen's twin brother) reader pretty please?🥺

With prompts: you're a demanding little thing, aren't you? And i will never be able to carve you from my heart. you are embedded too deep.

Summary - Jamie Lannister does not remember much of the first night he spent with Y/N Stark, but the night still haunts him for years after he stormed out of the younger man's chambers.

Warnings - General GOT warnings, implied sexual content, drinking

Jamie scarcely recognized Winterfell as he rode through the open gates.

The castle he had spent weeks in all those years ago was loud and full of life, but the one he took in now was on its last breaths. The people who bustled around the keep had no life in their eyes, their posture and eyes giving away the impending doom that was coming their way.

Jamie made himself scarce amongst the Northerners, sticking mostly to his brother’s side as war plans were made and the castle was fortified. It was during one of the war councils, that Tyrion was welcome at but Jamie was not, that he saw him.

If someone asked, Jamie forgot about Y/N Stark the moment the door slammed behind his back in a fit of rage all those years ago. But the truth of the matter was that Y/N Stark had plagued Jamie’s every waking thought and dream for the last three and half years. Jamie remembered next to nothing about his last night in Winterfell, but the feel of Y/N rough stubble against his skin and teeth against his neck were forever burned into his mind. The Northerner’s chest was impossibly warm pressed against Jamie’s skin, and his lips had tasted like the very same wine that got Jamie into his bed in the first place.

Jamie made eye contact with him across the yard, the gooseflesh that crawled down his arms had nothing to do with the cold when Y/N’s eyes lit up in recognition. From the look of him it was clear to the ex-kingsguard that he was not the only one of them to have a rough few years. His face which had been rough from labor at the wall yet still full of life and humor was scarred and lacking the warmth that Jamie remembered. All of the life that Y/N’s presence had brought to Winterfell's halls all the years ago was dead; it seemed as Jamie watched him from afar for days.

Y/N spent his days moving almost mindlessly, preparing Winterfell for siege and talking in hushed whispers to Jon and the other commanders. He didn’t join the rest of them for meals or training, and the time he did spend out of his chambers he spent with the Wildlings, comfortable enough with them that Jamie could tell there was a story there. It wasn’t until the night before the Long Night, possibly their last night, that Jamie worked up the balls to track him down and talk.

“Jon I alre-” The door the chambers opened with a clang as Y/N threw the door open, he paused at the sight of Jamie standing there, a pitcher of wine in his hand. “Jamie?”

“I brought wine.”

Y/N shook his head, letting out a short laugh, “Come in.”

They ended up splitting four pitchers of wine between them before Y/N cut them both off, “We’re fighting a war tomorrow. We’ll be no use drunk.”

Y/N leaned over to place the empty pitcher back on the table and Jamie could smell the wine on his breath as the man entered his space. The smell of wine and the sudden closeness brought Jamie back to the last time they’d been left alone drunk with each other.

Jamie could never figure out just exactly how Y/N had convinced him into his bed, but he remembers the moment where Jamie decided that it was what he wanted.

‘You’re a demanding little thing, aren’t you?’ The man had whispered in his ear, pressing up against the door and pushing the breath out of Jamie's lungs. Jamie had been drunk, arrogant, and controlling throughout their journey up to the room, making snide comments about Y/N’s vows that Y/N had returned tenfold with taunts of Jamie and Cersei’s relationship that he had been too drunk to deny. As soon as Y/N’s rough laugh and taunting words had reached Jamie’s ears his resolve had broken and his knees had gone weak.

“Jamie?” Y/N said cautiously, snapping the man out of his memories.

“I still think about that night.” The words tumbled out of Jamie’s mouth before he could stop them and Y/N froze. Before the wine induced bravery could leave him, Jamie continued. “It’s been three years since and you still plague my dreams. I’ve been trying to work up the courage to speak to you since I arrived, can you imagine? The Kingslayer, scared of a conversation.”

Y/N laughed, “You’re drunk.”

“No.” Jamie shook his head. “If being drunk is what makes me think of you this way, I've been drunk every waking moment for the last three years. I know what I said to you all those years ago, but I was wrong. I will never be able to carve you from my heart. you are embedded too deep.”

Y/N’s breath caught, but before Jamie could regret opening his big mouth Y/N surged forward. He grabbed Jamie’s face, bringing their mouths together. Nothing about the way Y/N was claiming his lips was sweet, it was rough bitten kisses and rough hands grabbing his hair and bringing him closer to him. It was so familiar to the way that Y/N had claimed him all those years ago that Jamie couldn’t do anything but smile and melt into the man as he dragged him toward the bed.

Jamie was hyper-aware of the war looming over them as Y/N undressed him, lips trailing down his body with each new piece of skin that was revealed. But he couldn’t find it in himself to be too upset by the deadline, content to finally take something for himself even if it was just going to be one last time.

#x male reader #x reader #x y/n #game of thrones x male reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #jamie lannister #jamie lannister x male reader #jamie lannister x reader #jamie lannister x you #jamie lannister x y/n

121 notes · View notes

novaursa · 7 months ago

Text

Fire and Gold (the consequences)

- Summary: Rhaegar chooses you over her. And Ceresi never forgives you for it.

- Pairing: sister!reader/Rhaegar Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: 1

- Next part: 3

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @lightdragonrayne

- A/N: This is the last story for today.

The Great Hall of the Red Keep is silent, an oppressive stillness weighing on the air. Dread crackles like a storm about to break as King Aerys II Targaryen, known to many now as the Mad King, sits upon the Iron Throne. His fingers, thin and white as bone, drum restlessly on the armrests, the sound echoing through the chamber like the ticking of a clock counting down to catastrophe.

The hall is empty save for a few trusted guards and the towering presence of Tywin Lannister, who stands at the foot of the throne with his head held high, his face an inscrutable mask. It is a rare sight to see him without his customary calm, but even he knows the volatility of the man before him.

“You dared to think your lioness could strike my blood, my daughter, and there would be no retribution?” Aerys’ voice is soft, almost gentle, but it carries a terrible menace. The flames of the torches lining the walls flicker, casting shadows that seem to dance with the madness in his eyes. “Your precious daughter dared to lay hands upon my Y/N. My most beloved child.”

Tywin’s face remains impassive, though you can see the faintest tension in his jaw. “Your Grace, there must be some misunderstanding. Cersei—”

“Misunderstanding?” Aerys’ voice rises sharply, and he stands, the movement sudden and jerky. His robes billow around him like the wings of a dragon. “Do you take me for a fool, Tywin? My daughter returns from your encampment cut, shaken. My Y/N, who has never known such disgrace, such insult!”

Tywin’s green eyes meet the king’s blazing violet ones. “Your Grace, if there has been an offense, I assure you it was unintended. Cersei—”

Aerys’ laughter rings through the hall, a high, grating sound that sends a shiver down the spine of every man present. “Unintended, he says! The Hand of the King claims his daughter’s treachery was unintended. She openly shamed my daughter before the eyes of our people. Your daughter, who has been nothing but a viper in this court, tried to poison the hearts of our subjects against their rightful queen!”

The Mad King steps down from the throne, his gaze never leaving Tywin. The guards stiffen but do not move, knowing better than to interfere. “You think your children are safe because you are my Hand? Because you have served me well in the past?” He leans forward, eyes glittering with a wild light. “I am the King of the Seven Kingdoms, Tywin. I could order Cersei to be burned alive and no one would dare stop me. I could burn your golden boy Jaime as well, see how well your lions roar then.”

Tywin’s composure does not falter, but a muscle twitches in his cheek. “Your Grace, I beg you to consider—”

“Consider?” Aerys hisses, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “I have considered. You think yourself so high, Tywin. So far above us all, above your king. But you are nothing without me. Nothing! You swore to protect my family, to serve the realm. And now, your blood turns against mine.”

He straightens, drawing himself up to his full, regal height, his presence a blazing fury. “I strip you of your title as Hand of the King. You will leave this court immediately and take your poisonous brood with you.”

Tywin’s eyes narrow, the only sign of his anger. “Your Grace, I have served the realm faithfully for—”

Aerys cuts him off with a savage gesture. “For too long! Too long have you schemed and plotted under my nose. Did you think I would not notice, Tywin? That I would not see your ambition, your pride?” He leans forward, his face a mask of twisted rage. “I see everything. I know everything. And I will not have it.”

The King’s voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “If your daughter so much as breathes near my Y/N again, if she dares to touch a hair on her head, I will burn her alive. I will burn you all. The lions of Casterly Rock will be nothing but ash.”

The silence that follows is suffocating. Tywin stands there, a statue of marble and iron, the weight of the King’s words settling on his shoulders. But he does not bow, does not flinch.

“As you command, Your Grace,” Tywin finally says, his voice steady. “We will leave the capital at once.”

Aerys’ eyes gleam with triumph. “Good. Go back to your Rock, Tywin. And remember this day. Remember what happens when you think to cross a dragon.”

With that, he turns away, dismissing Tywin as if he were nothing more than a bothersome fly. The former Hand of the King bows, a shallow, mocking dip of his head, before turning on his heel and striding from the hall. His back is rigid, unyielding, but you can sense the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.

As the heavy doors close behind Tywin, Aerys slumps back onto the Iron Throne, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The madness in his eyes dims, replaced by a strange, almost childlike weariness. He leans his head back, staring up at the vaulted ceiling, a smile curling his lips.

“My daughter,” he murmurs to the empty hall. “No one will ever harm you. Not while I am king.”

But even as he speaks, you know that this is only the beginning. The wolves are circling, the lions crouched in the shadows, and the dragons? The dragons are restless, their flames licking at the bonds of peace that have held the realm together for so long.

And now, with Tywin Lannister cast down, those bonds threaten to shatter.

Storm’s End looms ahead, its ancient walls stark against the darkening sky. Tywin Lannister rides through the gates, his face as hard and unforgiving as the stone fortress that now houses his daughter. His entourage is small—just a handful of guards and his most trusted men. He has no intention of lingering here longer than necessary. He has come for one reason, and one reason alone.

As Tywin dismounts, his cold green eyes scan the courtyard. Servants scatter like frightened mice, aware of the tempest in his gaze. He strides purposefully toward the main hall, his boots striking the ground with a grim, unyielding rhythm. He does not slow his pace as the great doors swing open, revealing the grand chamber within.

Cersei stands at the center of the hall, her posture rigid, her face a mask of defiance and fear. She is dressed in her finest gown, a deep crimson that mirrors the color of Lannister pride, but the color does little to hide the trepidation in her eyes. She knows her father’s wrath is like a storm—merciless, relentless. And today, she is caught in its path.

“Father,” she greets him, her voice steady, though there is a tremor beneath it.

Tywin does not acknowledge her words. He looks past her, dismissing her greeting as if she were nothing more than a child who had disappointed him. His gaze sweeps the room and lands on Robert Baratheon, who lounges on his lord’s chair, a goblet of wine in hand. Robert’s eyes narrow as Tywin approaches, but there is no welcome in his expression.

“Lord Tywin,” Robert says, his voice slurring slightly. He shifts in his seat, a smirk playing at his lips. “Come to collect your troublesome daughter, have you?”

Tywin’s eyes, icy and penetrating, fix on Robert. “This matter does not concern you, Baratheon.” His voice is cold, precise, each word sharp as a dagger. “Leave us.”

Robert’s smirk falters. He glances at Cersei, who stands silent and still, and then back at Tywin. For a moment, he looks as if he might argue, but something in Tywin’s gaze—something deadly—makes him think better of it. He pushes himself up from his chair with a grunt and stumbles toward the door.

“Whatever,” he mutters, waving a hand dismissively. “Handle your family, Lannister. I’ve had enough of this.”

The doors close behind him with a heavy thud, and the hall falls into a silence so deep it seems to swallow every breath, every heartbeat.

Tywin turns his full attention to Cersei. The fury in his eyes is a burning, unyielding force, and she feels the weight of it like a physical blow. She straightens, lifting her chin, trying to summon her usual haughty confidence, but it feels brittle, fragile, in the face of his wrath.

“You dare,” Tywin begins, his voice a deadly whisper, “to jeopardize everything I have built, everything I have planned, for your petty pride? Do you have any idea what you have done?”

Cersei’s mouth opens, a protest ready on her lips, but Tywin’s hand lashes out, striking the table beside her with such force that she flinches. The sound echoes through the hall, a harsh, jarring noise that sets her nerves on edge.

“You drew dragon blood,” Tywin continues, his voice rising, each word a thunderclap. “Do you think that means nothing? Do you think you can strike at the heart of House Targaryen and there will be no consequences?”

“Father, I—”

“Silence!” His roar shakes the very walls, and she falls silent, her heart pounding in her chest. Never, not even in her childhood, has she seen him like this. The cold, controlled fury she is used to, but this—this is something else. This is rage stripped of all restraint, all reason.

“You have put our house in peril,” Tywin hisses, his eyes burning with a cold fire. “The Mad King threatened to burn you, Cersei. To burn Jaime. Do you think I will allow you to destroy everything I have worked for?”

Her defiance crumbles, the words she wants to say dying in her throat. “I—”

“You,” he spits, cutting her off, “are a foolish, reckless girl. You think yourself a queen, a lioness. But all you’ve done is make us vulnerable.” His voice drops to a dangerous whisper, every word enunciated with chilling clarity. “You forget yourself, Cersei. You forget your place. You forget that your actions reflect not only on you but on all of us.”

Her pride, her vanity, have always been her armor. But now, under the force of her father’s anger, it shatters. Tears sting her eyes, and she blinks them back, refusing to show that weakness. But he sees, of course. Tywin sees everything.

“You will not defy me again,” he says, his voice softer now, but no less dangerous. “You will remember who you are and what you owe this family. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father,” she whispers, hating the quiver in her voice, hating the way he makes her feel—small, insignificant.

Tywin’s gaze holds hers, his eyes as cold and unfeeling as the stone walls around them. “You will return to Casterly Rock. You will stay there until I say otherwise. You will not breathe a word of this to anyone. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father,” she repeats, her voice barely audible.

“Good.” He steps back, the distance between them a chasm she cannot cross. “Remember, Cersei. The only reason you are still alive is because I will not allow House Lannister to be destroyed by your stupidity.”

She flinches at the harshness of his words, but she nods, holding her head high despite the tears that threaten to spill over. He looks at her one last time, his gaze filled with cold contempt, before turning and walking out of the hall, leaving her standing there, alone and broken.

The doors close behind him, and she sags against the table, her hands gripping the edge as if it is the only thing keeping her upright. She feels the rage burning inside her, mingling with the pain and humiliation. How dare he speak to her like that, treat her like a child?

But she knows, deep down, that her father is right. She has overstepped, has endangered everything. And now she will have to live with the consequences of her actions. She will have to endure the punishment he has decreed.

But as she stands there, trembling with the effort of holding herself together, she vows that one day, she will make them all pay. Tywin, Rhaegar, the Targaryen whore who has taken everything she wanted—one day, they will all suffer as she has suffered.

One day, the lioness will roar again.

The chamber is filled with the sweet scent of lavender and the faint, sterile tang of healing herbs. Soft light filters through the high windows, casting gentle shadows on the stone walls. You sit on the edge of the bed, the cold air brushing against your bare skin as Grand Maester Pycelle carefully unwinds the bandage from your side.

“Almost done, Your Grace,” Pycelle murmurs, his voice trembling slightly with age. He peers at the now-healed cut, his expression one of clinical detachment. “The wound has healed well, though the scar will remain.”

You nod, your eyes not on the maester but on Rhaegar. He stands nearby, his gaze locked on you with a mix of concern and anger that he has not yet managed to let go. His silver hair, caught in the afternoon light, seems almost ethereal, and his violet eyes soften as they meet yours.

“I should have been there,” he says, his voice low, filled with regret. He steps closer, his presence a comforting warmth against the chill in the room. “I should have protected you.”

You reach out, your fingers brushing his hand in a reassuring gesture. “You couldn’t have known, Rhaegar. Cersei’s malice was not your fault.”

Pycelle finishes his work, dabbing a final bit of ointment over the scarred flesh. “You must continue to rest, Princess,” he advises, though his eyes flick nervously between you and Rhaegar. “And avoid any strenuous activity.”

You nod absentmindedly, your attention still on Rhaegar. “Thank you, Grand Maester.”

Pycelle bows deeply and shuffles out of the room, leaving you alone with Rhaegar. He moves closer, his fingers gently tracing the scar that mars your skin, the touch as light as a feather. You can feel the anger simmering beneath his gentle exterior, the barely contained fury at what has been done to you.

“I hate that this happened to you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “You should never have had to suffer such a thing.”

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes. “I’m still here, Rhaegar. A scar is just a mark. It doesn’t change who I am.”

“But it shouldn’t have happened at all.” His tone is fierce, and you open your eyes to see the torment etched in his features. “I failed you, Y/N. I let that woman hurt you.”

You shake your head, taking his hand in yours and pressing it to your lips. “You didn’t fail me. You saved me by standing with me, by being here now. You are my strength, Rhaegar.”

He exhales shakily, his forehead resting against yours. “I love you,” he breathes, the words a soft vow. “More than anything. More than life itself.”

You smile, your heart swelling with warmth despite the pain and the memories that linger. “And I love you. We’ve faced worse than this, haven’t we?”

His lips curve into a small, rueful smile. “We have.” He lifts your hand, his lips brushing across your knuckles. “But I swear, no one will ever hurt you again. Not while I still draw breath.”

There’s a fierceness in his voice that sends a shiver down your spine, and you know he means every word. You pull him closer, your arms wrapping around his neck as you bury your face against his shoulder. His embrace is strong, protective, and you feel the tension in his body, the barely suppressed urge to take revenge for what has been done to you.

“I don’t care about the scar,” you murmur against his neck. “I’m just glad to be here with you.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his gaze searching your face. “You are the strongest person I know,” he says softly, his thumb brushing away a stray lock of hair from your forehead. “Stronger than I could ever be.”

You smile, a quiet, private smile meant only for him. “I’m strong because I have you.”

His expression softens, the anger fading as he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a gentle, tender kiss. It’s not the fierce passion that sometimes flares between you, but something deeper, a promise of love and devotion that will withstand any storm.

When he pulls away, his hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “Rest now,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

You nod, feeling the exhaustion finally catching up with you. He helps you lie back, his hands gentle as he adjusts the blankets around you. His presence is a calming, steady anchor, and as your eyes drift shut, you know that whatever comes, whatever challenges you still have to face, you will not face them alone.

Rhaegar presses one last kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there, as if to imprint his love and protection onto your very skin. “Sleep, my love,” he whispers, his voice a soft caress. “I’ll guard your dreams.”

#a song of ice and fire #asoif/got #asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #house of the dragon #game of thrones #got x y/n #got x you #got x reader #rhaegar x y/n #rhaegar x you #rhaegar x reader #rhaegar targaryen #ceresi lannister #tywin lannister #jamie lannister #aerys ii targaryen #house targaryen #house lannister

355 notes · View notes

lislemons · 9 months ago

Text

asoiaf charaters as posts that remind me of them part 18

294 notes · View notes

starryfox0 · 1 year ago

Text

my roman empire are jamie lannister and brienne of tarth. these two istg i loved them so much, so so much, why did they take them from me

#game of thrones #jamie x brienne #jamie lannister #brienne of tarth #braime #they make me sick to my stomach

492 notes · View notes

0bsessiv3s0ul · 10 months ago

Text

Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen

240 notes · View notes

k4marina · 1 year ago

Text

— Prologue: Dragonstone|| Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: a trip to Dragonstone goes a little wrong, or does it?

game of thrones x modern!reader

4.5k+ word count

sereis masterlist || next part

"Why are we doing this during the hottest day of the year, again?" Daeron mutters, using the brochure that was given to us at the beginning of the tour as a fan.

If I could, I would've replied, but the heat was also getting to me, draining away my energy. And, on top of the scorching heat, I'd just finished the last of my water. I pursed my lips together, the line wasn’t that long and I’m sure I can buy another overpriced water bottle after we visited the caves.

The group tour guide turned back to us, just as exhausted, and somewhat bashful. He said something, but I couldn't be bothered with it as I was too focused to not tip over from the heat. It was probably something like “only a few more minutes and we’ll be outta the heat, folks,” with an awkward smile or something.

The line to the caves under the castles was stupidly long, but it's no surprise. So much history was in those caves and so many mysteries had come full circle there. And, the deeper they dug, the more they uncovered the history of the Targaryens that lived there from when Aenar Targaryen moved his entire family to Dragonstone after his daughter, Daenys “the Dreamer” dreamed of the Doom of Valyria.

"Who's idea was it to come here for our research trip?" I didn't bother looking over at him, knowing that I'd be blinded by the sun that shone directly behind his big head.

“Shut up. Your voice is giving me a headache.” I quipped. “Besides, almost everything on this island is connected to the Targaryens. It might come useful when we have to write our research paper.”

The line moved up until our group was at the front of the line. A small group of students, along with Daeron and I, were on Dragonstone for our research projects. Some of the other students had decided to stay in Kings Landing or go to other parts of Westeros for their research.

Everyone was to spend a week in their respective areas and gather all the information they needed before heading back to Kings Landing to write and then later present their topics. Some chose to do it themselves whilst others, like us, decided to go with someone else.

Today was the first day of our stay on Dragonstone. Daeron and I had decided to check out the caves and the island's beaches before we would explore the labyrinth-like castle.

I rubbed the side of my head, feeling a headache approaching. My hand reached up to my necklace that rested on my chest. The chain was long enough for it to hang in the dip of my breast.

Not only did I come here for my project, but also for me. The necklace around my neck has been in my family for generations, but no one knows from where. It’s made entirely of Valyrian Steel, which was rare back in the day, and even rarer now.

As a child, I didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t until I grew older and more curious that I started asking questions. First to my family, but all I got was even more confusing answers that led me nowhere. Then I turned towards the internet, scouring for hours until I had found it.

On the official Dragonstone website, I found pictures of the caves under the castle and possibly under the entire island. On one of the walls was a crude hand drawing of my necklace. Two dragons around a sword with a ruby in the middle –though, the ruby was replaced with a red dot. Regardless, the cave painting matched.

The line moved up and Daeron gently pushed me up while I was lost in my thoughts. “You good?” He asks. I nod, “Yeah. The heat’s just a lot.” He gives an understanding look. Once the tour guide is given the green light, he begins to lead up to the entrance of the cave.

"Ready?" Daeron asks. I nodded and we begin walking. Once we entered the cave, my jaw was on the floor. I had seen pictures of the caves, but seeing it in real life was far more beautiful.

The deeper we got we could see the cave paintings done by the Children of the Forest which Daenerys and Jon had found. As the guide droned on about the cave paintings, I could feel my headache intensify. Why was it so hot in here?

The deeper and deeper we went into the caves, the worse it got. My chest started to feel heavy. I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. The back of my throat burned and I felt like throwing up, but I pushed forward.

My eyes raked the the cave walls, Where was it? Finally, I was able to see it. The markings were next to a few unknown ones. A sign with some information was hung up next to it. Despite my head pounding I was still able to read the bold words.

Unknown markings made by who researchers believe are the Targaryens. The paint used seemed to be as old as when Aenar Targaryen moved his family to Dragonstone.

By the time I finished reading, I could feel my head pounding so loudly in my ear. It felt like an ice pick was being hammered into the side of my head. I could hear muffled voices call out, but to who I didn’t know. The room started to spin and a ringing sound filled my ears.

A hand, most likely Derons, reached out and turned me around. I could see his mouth moving, but no words coming out. My chest felt like it was overheating while my head continued to throb. Everything turned blurry and then it went black.

When I woke up, I was still in the cave. The cold stone floor had helped with bringing my body temperature down. And, my head didn't hurt anymore. After getting up, I looked around the cave. It was darker, and quiet.

Where was everyone?

Carefully, I made my way out of the cave. It was harder to walk out of the cave and the spotlights that were on the walls weren’t on. Once I was outside I was met with the night sky.

All the tents and other buildings around the beach were gone, as if they'd never been there.

Okay, this is weird.

"Hello?" My voice came out horse like I hadn’t spoken in a long time. "Hello? Is anyone there? Daeron?"

My feet moved on their own and I tried to find someone, anyone. But there was no one. How could a populated area with tents and buildings disappear within hours?

Retracing my steps, I found the stairs that would lead me back to the Help Center that were posted around for lost tourists, but like the beach, there was nothing. Matter a fact, even the lamppost that were posted into the ground, the banners, the signs –everything was gone.

"What the actual fuck?" Panic creeped up and I could feel my heart thumping in my ears. "Gods, If this is some kinda sick fucking joke..."

At this point, I was running towards the castle. For what? I didn't know, but surely there had to be something there. The grand doors seemed to be closed so I tried to find another way in. I guess you could say I found something like a side door that took a little force to open.

The inside of the castle was grand. High walls, banners held high, candles and lamps lit all around. Truly, it was amazing. As I was gawking at the architecture I failed to notice unknown voices walking towards me.

“Halt!” Two unknown men dressed in what looked like armor cornered me, pointing their spears at me. “State your name! Who are you?”

I stuttered out my name, raising my hands up so they could see I wasn’t a threat. “I’m not going to do anything, I swear.”

The two men shared a look and a few hushed words before one of them walked over to me, grabbing my arm roughly and pulling me along.

“Ow!” I tried to pull back, but his grip was too strong. “What the fuck dude. I said I wasn’t a threat.”

“Khaleesi will decide if you are or are not a threat.” The man who wasn’t holding onto me said.

Khaleesi? What Khaleesi?

“Oh please don’t tell me I just walked into those real-life roleplaying things.” I groaned, earning side eyes from both of the men.

They led me down a series of hall ways, each one intricate as the other until we stood outside of a set of polished stone double doors. Another pair of men dressed just like the cosplayers that brought me here stood in front of the doors. Without having to say any words they opened the grand doors.

Slowly, I could see the inside being revealed.

There, on the elevated platform stood the Throne of Dragonstone, where all the Targaryen heirs of the Iron Throne sat as they took the title “Prince of Dragonstone.” A light push brought me back as I was dragged closer to the throne.

“Khaleesi,” the guard called out. Before I could ask who they were speaking to, an unknown voice answered.

“What is it?”

Light footsteps were heard from behind a wall and a woman emerged from behind it. Except it wasn’t just any woman. Even a child would know who she was. Everyone around the world knows her.

She was Daenerys Targaryen.

Mother of Dragons.

The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea.

The Unburnt.

The Breaker of Chains.

I could feel time slow down as I watched her walk over to the throne and sit down. My blood turned cold as she sat in front of me.

No.

She’s dead.

This can’t be happening.

It’s not possible.

It’s not. I have better chances of reviving dragons than traveling back in time-

“What is this?” Daenerys eyed me, confused at my appearance and why I was even here before looking at the two men.

“We found this unknown woman wandering around the castle, Your Grace.”

She eyed me, as if wanting me to plead my case, but the words died in my throat. Why wouldn’t they when Daenerys fucking Targaryen was right in front of me. A million thoughts ran through my head, but I couldn’t rack my brain to find one answer.

Daenerys squinted before speaking again, this time directly towards me. “Who are you?” The High Valyrian rolled easily off of her tongue like a true Targaryen. Those three words held so much power and conviction, like a true Queen.

“Y/n Vellarys!…” I rushed to reply in Valyrian.

“You speak good Valyrian.” She praises, but it's quickly pushed away. “But that doesn’t explain what you are doing here.”

What should I do? I bit my bottom lip as nervousness filled my body.

Knowing that if I lie, I’ll be fileted, I took a deep breath before responding. “I don't know. I.. I,” I paused, not knowing if I should continue. If this was real then I only wanted her to know, “Can we be alone.. please?”

The two men besides me visibly tense up, but don’t speak up. Daenerys looks down at us, seemingly in thought before she nodded. The two men bow before turning around to leave. The double doors closed with a loud thud.

“We’re alone now, you may continue.”

I nervously swallowed. Here we go. “This might sound weird, but.. I don’t know how I got here. I.. I woke up in the caves under the castle… alone.”

Daenerys’ face stayed neutral as I relayed the information. She seemed to take some time to process what I had just said. “Do you think I’m a fool?”

I could feel my heart fall all the way down. Fuck.

“You woke up in the caves alone?” She repeats. “Not even a child would come up with such a stupid story like this.”

“N-n-no, Daener- I mean, Your Grace. I swear to the Gods that I’m telling the truth. I have no reason to lie to you. Especially when you could get rid of me with your dragons in a second.”

She seemed to mull over my words, as if weighing her options. “Alright, let's say you’re telling the truth. Your story still doesn’t make sense. How do you just “wake up” in a cave?”

Now or never, I guess.

“Actually,” I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m not from here. I come from-” The future. Fucking hell, how cliché. “-I come from a different… time.”

Daenerys squinted and I could see the clogs in her brain moving. “You mean you’re from the future?”

Jeez. Ripped the bandage right off.

“Well –uh, yes,” I say. “I was touring the caves and then I –I fell unconscious or something, I still don’t know, I just know that when I woke up I ended up here.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. What if this was just a dream and that all of this is just my imagination running wild.

“That necklace.”

Huh? What is she talking about?

I looked up, confused. “What?”

She pointed towards my chest. I looked down and I could see my necklace was out. “What about it?” I asked.

“Where did you get it?”

“It’s mine.” I replied. “It’s been in my family for generations. Why?”

Now it was Daenerys’ turn to look a little nervous.

“I’ve seen it in my dream.”

“Your dream? Like, one of those Dragon Dreams?” I ask. She gives a nod, “While we were sailing to Dragonstone I had a dream of a woman with silver hair and that necklace. Because I couldn’t see her face, I thought it was me. I’ve turned the treasury over looking for them; however, it seems that I dreamt of you.”

Ho-ly Fuck. Daenerys’ dreamt about me. What the hell. I’m about to throw up.

“What?” Now it was my time to be skeptical of what was being said. “You dreamt about me and my necklace?”

She nodded. “It seems odd, but a Dragon Dream has never been wrong.”

“Ture, but that still leaves a lot of blanks.” My hand subconsciously went up to hold my necklace while I tried to think back.

The deeper I walked into the cave the more my head started to hurt, but that was most likely because of dehydration… probably. But then there was a burning feeling on my chest when I looked at the symbol on the wall that matched my necklace and the burning feeling got even more intense and it felt like it was about to burn my skin-

“Fuck.” I groaned, letting go of the necklace. The outburst made Daenerys frown, “Are you alright?”

I looked down at my hands and at my necklace before looking into her eyes. “I think my necklace tried to burn me, like last time.”

“Last time?” She frowned. “How can a necklace burn someone?”

“I don’t know. It happened before I passed out in the cave.” I let out a sigh. “Gods, what is going on.”

“It seems that this was the God's doing,” Daenerys says, as if it was a fact. “They’ve brought you here.”

“The Gods?” I repeat. Sure, in some sense they did bring me here. “But why?”

“That may be something for you to find out.” Daenerys stood from the throne, walking down the steps until she was right in front of me. “I was lost once, but then the Gods gifted me my children to show me my true purpose.”

“The Iron Throne.” I thought back to my history classes where I learned that for the fight for the Iron Throne, Daenerys lost her life as she fell into what historians said was “Targaryen Madness,” but I’ve always felt that there’s more to it.

“It’s late, I’ll have the servants bring you to a spare room for you to rest in for the night.” As if on cue, the guards from before stepped up to us. “We can talk further tomorrow morning.”

Daenerys turned to leave from where she came from. The guards bowed as she left. Once she was gone they brought me to a spare room somewhere in the castle, this time without having to pull me around.

The hallways were nearly empty, meaning there weren’t a lot of people living here or servants working in the castle. The most I’d seen was guards posted around. Once we were in front of two thick double doors the guards stepped back waiting for me to open them.

It took a little force to open the door, but once I was inside, my jaw was on the floor. Despite everything being made of stone, the walls were covered in rich tapestry. There was a giant bed with lavish looking furs laid atop the bed and maroon bed sheets.

Behind me, a servant walked in with a few sets of clothes and laid them on the bed. “We’ve prepared you some clothes,” she said. “Would you like to change now or take a bath?”

As if on cue, I could feel how dirty I was since I was practically on the cave floors for Gods knows how long.

“A bath would be fine, thank you,” I replied. It honestly felt weird watching servants work. Not that it was bad, just the fact that in the modern day you don’t have them. Sure maybe someone who cleans your home or makes you food, but servants?

Once they had pulled out the massive tub and manually poured in the hot water they led me to the tub. One of their hands went up to my shirt's edge and the other to my pants.

“W-wait!” They all looked at me confused.

“Is everything alright, My Lady?” One of the servants asked.

No it’s not. You’re taking my clothes off. And sure, it’s your job to do practically everything for a highborn, but that ain’t me.

“Uh, there’s no need for… all of this. I can do it myself.”

“Are you sure?” Another girl asked. “It’s our duty to serve you.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” I replied awkwardly. “Just not really used to all of… this. Um, anyways I can take it from here. You guys can go…”

I internally cringed at my words. Gods, I sounded like an idiot, but could you blame me?

The girls reluctantly agreed, leaving me alone in the room. Once they were gone I let out a sigh and began to undress myself. The water was hot, but it was fine since I practically liked showering in lava every morning.

Settling into the tub I finally relaxed. This entire thing was just so… bizarre. At first, I thought it was some sort of dream, but that searing pain I felt wasn’t something I could just imagine.

My necklace burned me.

And it burned me when I first saw the markings on the cave walls. I looked down at my chest and hand, but saw nothing.

Okay, weird.

That aside, why was I even brought here? Why me? What do I have that made me so special that I had to be flung into this era of time?

“Think, y/n, think,” I muttered to myself. The dream. Daenerys’ dream about the necklace. But wait, no history books said anything about her having a dragon dream. Could this maybe be connected?

For the next hour, I mulled over my options while I soaked in the tub that had turned lukewarm. Having enough, I got up and grabbed the towels that the servants had thankfully set close for me.

The clothes that they had laid out for me were a bunch of nightgowns. Thankfully, they were my size. I decided to wear a simple white nightgown.

Laying under the mountain of covers and blankets, I finally let myself completely relax, falling asleep. Hopefully tomorrow’s discussions can help this situation get better or at least easier.

I woke up to the sun glaring down into my face. Groaning, I turned to my side, hoping to get some more sleep. But the damage was done.

I could hear light shuffling in the room and things being moved around. When I opened my eyes, I was nearly flash-banged. All the windows (that are floor to ceiling length) were opened and the curtains were drawn back.

A few servants from last night and a few new faces worked around the room. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes, catching the attention of one of the girls.

“Good morning, My Lady. Did you sleep well?”

“Morning,” my voice came out a little low and rough. “What’s going on?”

“We’re getting you ready for the day,” the girl replies, matter of factly. “You will be having your morning meal with the Queen. We’ve already drawn you a fresh new bath and arranged a new set of clothes.”

I looked at where the tub was last night, nothing that was gone, along with my clothes.

“Where are my clothes?” I asked.

“We’ve sent them to get washed,” the servant replied. “My Lady, if i may…”

I nodded for her to go on. “We’ve never seen such clothes like yours before. They remind us of what the men wear however, yours are a bit more.. different.”

“Oh, that. They’re just something that I made.” I lied. Thinking back to last night, I’m confused I didn’t get as many weird looks as I should have wearing my jeans and shirt. It's not really the typical Westerosi fashion for this time.

“The bath is ready.” Another girl says.

Reluctantly, I got out of bed, following them to another room adjacent to this one. The room was a massive bathroom that could function as a bathhouse.

There was a massive tub nestled into the floor. The windows were also huge but a little higher up, letting in some natural light. I could tell the water was hot just by how much it was steaming.

Carefully, the servants began to undress me. They led me into the water and began adding what I can only assume are oils and salts. Truthfully, it felt like I was at some fancy spa with how they washed my body and hair.

Once that was done, they helped me into a beautiful white dress with a dark teal and gold design. I felt like a model wearing such a beautiful dress. I let my hair down, not wanting it in any style (or knowing any styles of this period).

A servant walked me to the dining room where Daenerys was waiting for me. She wore a light blue dress with her hair braided and her three headed dragon pin.

“Good Morning,” she greeted.

“Morning uh, Your grace.” I replied. “Sorry, I’ve never called anyone “your grace” before.”

She brushed it off, motioning for me to take a seat next to her at the table where the food was already prepared.

“How did you sleep?” She asks, beginning to eat.

“Fine, surprisingly.” I reached down to grab a fork for my food. “How about you?”

Was I really making small talk with Daenerys Targaryen?

“Mine as well,” she smiled. “I was hoping we could talk a little before I had to go meet my small council.”

“Okay, what did you want to talk about?” I wanted to smack myself. Every time I spoke it was full of nerves and anxiety.

“Let’s start with you. Your name and where you’re from.” Daenerys says confidently. “Judging by your looks, you’re of Valyrian descent.” She says, eyeing my silver hair.

“Yes,” I nodded. “My family moved from Volantis to the Eyrie. My family is known to be of the Old Blood in Volantis.”

“The Old Blood?” Daenerys says, surprised.

The Old Blood are a group of people in Volantis that have proven to be the last remaining families of Valyria. They live in a perched area of the city that only they can walk. All the families in that area still continue their Valyrian traditions and practices, just minus the dragons.

I nodded, “My father is the youngest of four sons, so he thought ‘why not move to westeros and start something there?’ knowing that he wouldn’t have to really carry on the family name.”

“And your family name is Vellarys?” She recalled from last night.

“Yes. We’re known for our jewelry making in Volantis. That’s why my father moved to Westeros, to open a shop there without having to take over the business and stress like his older brother.

“As for myself, I have two older brothers. One is working to be a doctor,” Daenerys frowned at that, confused, “uh, it’s like a Maester. The other is helping my father run the shop.”

“And what about yourself?”

“I’m in school. I go to the University of Kings Landing.”

“The.. University of… Kings Landing?”

“Well, after the monarchy was sorta let go, they turned certain parts of the Red Keep and other castles into Universites -places to go for higher studies, like the.. Citadel for example.”

Daenerys nods, understanding some of it.

“I study the era of The Game of Thrones as well as Targaryen History.”

“The Game of Thrones?” She repeats. “What is that?”

“It’s, uh, what we call this time period. It ranged from the death of King Robert to,” the death of Daenerys Targaryen, “to now, and a little later. We look into how the events after Robert’s death played out and how people fought for the Iron Throne.”

“Like a game.” She says.

I nodded. “Yes, like a game. There’s this quote that Cersie Lannister said to Ned Stark that summed it up, “When you play the game of thrones, You win or you die,”.”

“I see,” Daenerys looks down at her plate in thought. “And what about me?”

Oh fuck.

“What about you?” I say, acting innocent.

“What happened to me?”

I purse my lips together. Should I say it? I mean, it’s a good segway to what I want to really say… if this part goes well.

“You…” I nervously swallowed. “You die… before you could even claim the throne.”

The fork in her hand hits the ceramic plate with a loud clunk.

“What?”

Nervously, I looked into her. “You were killed… after you burned Kings Landing to ashes.”

She frowned. “You're lying. I would never do such a thing. Me? Burning down Kings Landing?

And the Red Keep, but I’ll keep that to myself.

“I’m not lying, Daenerys. After you died, Drogon picked you up and flew you away. We still haven’t found your or his body.”

Daenerys' hands started to shake at the information I had just thrown at her. Carefully, I placed mine over hers.

“Daenerys,” I said softly. “Breath. You’re fine, nothing has happened so far.”

Slowly, I could feel her hands stop shaking and her breathing seemed to steady.

“What do you mean so far?”

I gave her hand an encouraging squeeze although, I can’t tell if it was for me or her.

“Meaning, I can help you.”

She looks at me, puzzled.

“Daenerys, I can help you take the Iron Throne.”

okayyyy so it's finally here after many rewrites. let me know if you guys liked the first person POV. its my first time writing it like this, typically i do second POV. more to come in later chapters. also, i will be changing a few things, nothing major. one personal head cannon that i have is that jon isn't really named aegon, but jaehaerys. makes a lil more sense in my brain. also, i'll maybe be using some info from the books. and if you guys have any suggestions with y/n's character and other stuff please feel free to let me know. don't worry there will be more story and character development in the coming chapters.

815 notes · View notes

axelsagewrites · 1 year ago

Text

Jamie Lannister*Extra Credit

Pairing: proffesor!Jamie x f!student!reader

Kinktober Day thirty: teacher student au with Jamie Lannister – he knew it was wrong to ask you to stay after class but after one too many short, short skirts he could no longer keep his thoughts at bay

Word count: 3014

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

There was not a student who didn’t groan when they realised, they were stuck with Professor Lannister. The only saving grace was hot fit he was, well that’s what he heard the students whisper about him while they waited for him to begin the lecture. He was strict, he knew that, but he thought fair. After all, if you just did the work what is the issue? Even if he pilled the work sky high.

He’d been teaching here for five years now with no issues. Not a single problem. That was till your flashy legs waltzed into his class with a short, pleated skirt and iced coffee in hand three minutes late. “Sorry professor,” you said, squeezing past him as he went to lock the door like he did at four minutes past every lesson. He had no time for late commers.

The students who saw his eyes follow you assumed it was a glare of contempt and feared for your next mark, but Jamie was trying desperately not to let his eyes wander down before turning his attention back to the door.

“Welcome to Military History 101 I am Jamie Lannister, your professor, and I accept nothing but greatness so if you came here for an easy pass,” he said, letting his eyes wander around the room, basking in the scent of nervous freshman sweat, “you are in for an uphill battle,” he said, his eyes landing on you. “And don’t even think of trying to make up for mediocrity with extra credit since I don’t do it,” he added making half the freshman groan.

You however seemed unfazed. You were scrawling in a notebook, pink pen with fluffy top in perfectly manicured hand, and a smirk tugging on your lip at the last line. Jamie felt himself swallow hard as he realised it was not just his students who’d be fighting uphill this year.

Every lesson you did not fail to disappoint. You came in exactly 3 minutes past with a coffee cup in hand just before he would lock the door. he wondered if it was deliberately spiteful or if you just enjoyed squeezing past him. Only once did you ever show up in sweats and the way the juicy letters hung over your ass had just as much of an affect on him as your favourite short skirts.

Usually, you left as the bell rang however as all the tired zombie freshman shuffled out, he noticed you lingering back with a friend before waving them off and walking up to him. “Sir?” you asked, not noticing the shockwave the word sent through your professor. “I was needing some help on something,”

Jamie however was thinking of the ways you could help his growing trouser problem he discussed by pulling his chair closer to his desk, “What seems to be the matter?”

“It’s the assignment due Monday. I was wondering if I could submit it Friday instead?” you asked, no reasoning, no added context. Just asking with a pretty smile.

Usually, Jamie would scoff or roll his eyes but for a moment, perhaps just to be able to see your face up close a few moments longer, he entertained it, “May I ask why? Do you plan on nursing a hangover this weekend?” he asked, raising an eyebrow but you only chuckled at his words.

“No professor. It’s basically done I just know I can make it perfect with an extra couple days. After all you said you expected nothing but greatness,” the smirk on your lips should’ve been your cocky nail in the coffin but Jamie couldn’t tell if he respected your thought process or just wanted to feel what those lips could do.

He chuckled lightly, leaning back in his chair, “Do you think the Targaryen’s got an extension when they decided to conquer Dorne?”

“No,” you said, tilting your head to the side, “but I thought setting the classroom alight would send the wrong message,”

Another chuckle left him. Gods he was mentally hitting himself for that. At least no one else was here to watch him grow soft because of a random college girl. He paused, allowing his eyes to scan your face before snapping himself from his daze, “Fine. But you better deliver on your word,”

“I always do,” you grinned, “Thank you sir, I’ll see you later,” you said before turning to leave. Jamie allowed himself to watch how your hips swayed out the door however as soon as it closed his head fell back and he groaned loudly as he contemplated whether the things, he imagined doing to you were morally wrong. After all you were his student.

Sure, as fate he got your essay in on Friday and decided to mark it as soon as the class had ended. He sat back in his chair shocked at the 99% he wrote in red ink on top of the paper. When Monday came the freshman nerves raced through the room as the waited for their papers to be handed out. Jamie usually delighted in telling them he’d hand them out as they were leaving but today, he was bored and hungover from a long weekend with his brother who had tried to find him girls to get his mind off of you.

However, as he was calling out names and handing them their papers as they scurried out the door Jamie found himself moving your paper to the side. “Robb Stark,” Jamie called the second last name and the Stark boy all but flung himself out his chair to grab his paper, sighing of relief when he saw the 89% on the corner.

“Its okay if you didn’t get round to mine,” You said, standing from your chair as Robb left the room.

Today it was a short red, black plaid skirt that clung to your hips that swayed as you walked down the stairs of the lecture hall to his desk. The black high neck top should have in theory been modest, but it made your chest pop in a way he wondered if was intentional. “I did,” he said, letting his eyes scan your body for a moment, as discreetly as a desperate man could. “I must say you live up to your word,” he said as he held out the paper.

He saw a real smile, though small, cross your lips at the red pen. “Thank you, sir,”

“Don’t thank me, you did the work,” he said, moving to sit on the corner of his desk, “Though next time I expect it to be in on time,”

“Of course, sir,” you said, moving to tuck the paper into your backpack which gave him another chance to look at the curves of your hips. however, your light laugh snapped him out of his dirty thoughts as he realised, he had been caught. Before he could stutter anything out you spoke again, “Do you have a girlfriend sir?” you asked, eyelashes batting.

Jamie stammered for a moment before laughing, trying to cover himself but failing miserably, “No I don’t um why do you ask?” he eventually managed out.

You shrugged, shoving your backpack over your shoulder, “Just wondering is all,” you smiled before turning to leave. Like second nature his eyes moved to your ass however just as you turned back to say, “Bye sir,” with a smirk before shutting the door behind yourself. He was officially fucked.

A few weeks had past, and Jamie wondered if everyone in the room could feel the tension or if it was just him. He was sat in his office grading papers for his post grad class when a knock came from the door. “Come in,” he called, not looking up from his papers.

“Sir?” his head snapped up at the sound of your voice, “I was wondering if you could help me with something,” you said, holding an open notebook in your hand. Jamie nodded but you had already came in, moving to stand beside him behind his desk. Even when not in class you were still in one of those schoolgirl skirts and Jamie wondered how many you could possibly own.

“I was wondering if this argument seems right,” you said, placing the notebook on his desk. Jamie leaned forward, his eyes attempting to scan the page, but he could feel the way you leaned in, watching his movements. However, he didn’t see the way your eyes scanned his body and the way his perfectly tailored trousers showed his bulge or how sexy his arms looked with the sleeves messily pushed up.

Jamie did his best to talk his way through the argument, explaining in monotonous details where you had gone right and wrong all while feeling your hot breath tickle his skin. “Does that help?” he asked, looking up at you before realising how close your lips were.

They curved into a smile as you leaned in only to grab your notebook and stand up. He knew you were teasing him, he just knew, but how was a man supposed to cope with this? “Yeah, it does. Thank you, sir,”

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asked, leaning back in his chair as he looked up at you.

Your eyes fell from a moment, your tongue briefly wetting your lips, “I don’t know sir. Is there?” you asked, looking up again through heavy lashes.

Jamie felt something snap in himself. he moved before he thought and soon his hand was on the back of your neck and his lips were slammed against yours. the kiss had caught you off guard, but it didn’t take long for you to catch up, your hands moving to pull at his hair making Jamie groan into the kiss.

He moved the chair back, not breaking the kiss, as you moved to climb into his lap. His hands moved to squeeze your ass, moaning against your lips as his tongue slipped in not that you would have stopped him. Your hips moved, grinding yourself down onto his hard bulge making his fingers dig in deeper.

Jamie broke the kiss. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked, his voice ragged as his hot breath fanned across your face making your skin tingle.

“Do you not want to?” you asked, your lips moving to kiss along his sharp jaw.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands slipping up to the small of your back, pressing your body against his, “You know you won’t get extra credit for this?” he asked.

You giggled against his skin, lifting your head to face him as your hands slid to his shoulders, “I don’t need the extra credit. Just you,” you added, your eyes flickering down to his shirt, your hands slowly moving the unbutton the top button.

Jamie watched you silently as you undid 3 of his buttons before suddenly standing, his arms hooked around your thighs. You gasped as you felt your butt hit the desk and Jamies bulge press against your clothed core. His lips crashed down onto yours, his hands sliding beneath your skirt to finally feel your hips properly.

Your legs wrapped around him, pulling him in closer making him grind against you, his bulge rubbing against your clit. Your fingers scrambled to undo his buttons, quickly making there way down till they were all undone and you were able to run your hands along his toned abs.

His hand squeezed your thigh before slipping between your legs, rubbing your clit over your panties making you moan lightly into the kiss. This only made him want this more as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric, running a digit up your slit, “So wet for me,” he mumbled against your lips, “Such a good girl,” he praised sending a spark through your core.

Before you could try come up with a sassy comment or teasing remark you gasped as he pushed two fingers in slowly, stretching you out perfectly. His lips moved to your neck, kissing down all the exposed skin he could as his fingers began to curl perfectly as his thumb moved to rub slow circles onto your clit.

You felt your hips begin to buck, his free hand moving to hold them down against the desk as you felt a growing knot in your stomach. You could feel your orgasm quickly approaching but you didn’t wait so long for a bit of fingering. Your hand moved to grab his wrist, feeling just how strong he was as you did. He lifted his head, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, “I need you. please sir,” you whined, your voice strained as you felt yourself clench around his fingers.

Jamie muttered curses under his breath and if you didn’t see him unbuckling his belt you’d wonder if you had taken it too far. Suddenly a look of defeat dawned on his face, “Fuck I don’t have a- “

“I’m on the pill just please,” you practically begged, grabbing his bicep and squeezing it lightly, “please just fuck me already,” you’d barely got the words out before he had his cock in his hand.

It looked painfully hard, but you didn’t look long as you felt his lips against yours again and felt him line himself up, rubbing his tip over your clit making you whimper against his lips. He knew what he was doing, you realised, but so did you. perhaps the way he slowly pushed his tip in then out again was pay back for all the short skirts you’d deliberately worn just for him.

“Please,” you whined against his lips.

You felt them curl into a smirk, “I like when you beg,” he mumbled, pressing his tip in again. “Been imagining this all semester. Bending you over a table right in the middle of class,” he said, finally pushing in deeper making you whimper, “Bet you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Yes sir,” you moaned as you tighten your legs around his waist, trying to pull him in deeper.

“Fucking love when you call me that,” he said, his eyes closing tight as your cunt squeezed around him, still not fully in, “and these skirts of yours. tiny fucking skirts. For a good girl you really are such a tease, aren’t you?” he said, finally pushing all the way in before giving you a second to adjust. He waited a moment before adding, “I asked you a question,”

“Yes sir,” you said, your voice shaky as he got his revenge on all your teasing.

Jamie smirked again, that annoying cocky smirk you loved so much, “Good girl,” he said before suddenly beginning his thrusts. His hips snapped at a perfect pace, deliberately hard so he could watch your tits bounce under your shirt.

Deciding he’d looked at them over the fabric too long he reached out, pulling the t-shirt up above your tits to reveal a pretty red bra you’d chosen for the occasion. It only made his pace grow harder.

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, trying to keep your moans down but it became hard as you felt his hand move so he could rub quick circles into your already sensitive bundle of nerves. You could feel orgasm rapidly approaching as your legs wrapped tight around his waist, making his thrusts even deeper.

The groans and grunts coming from his lips only worked to spear you on as Jamie felt his eyes tighten as he desperately tried not to cum in two seconds. His hands moved from your hips to your tits, groping them over your bra and seriously wishing he had done this sooner. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold off for as he felt your walls tighten around him.

“Fuck I can’t I’m gonna,” you panted, your moans hard to contain. His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you forward so your head landed in the crook of his shoulder. The new position allowing him to hit a new spot that had you muffling moans into his skin. You felt the knot in your stomach explode as your teeth sunk into his skin as your orgasm crashed down around you.

Jamie however was not far behind, and his thrusts became more sporadic as he chased his high. As you came down from your own you could feel his muscles tighten. You placed a kiss to the skin you had bitten just as you heard Jamie gasp out curse words before feeling him finish.

His head crashed into the crook of your shoulder as he caught his breath. “That was- just fuck, wow,” he panted, his voice hoarse as he lifted his head to look at you.

“Yeah,” you smiled, a dopey fucked out your mind smile that just made Jamie wish he could do this over and over again.

Suddenly Jamie remembered where he was though with a panicked, “Fuck,” as he quickly opened his desk drawer and grabbed some tissues to help clean you up.

As you jumped off his desk, readjusting your skirt and pulling your top back down, he quickly worked on the buttons of his shirts. You glanced at his desk, noticing the crumbled paper you had accidentally ended up on, “Sorry about that,” you grimaced but Jamie just laughed.

“Don’t worry about it. that kids a cunt anyway,” he said making you laugh as well.

You picked up the notebook you had used as an excuse to enter his office in the first place and headed for the door, “Thanks for the help, sir,”

“Anytime love,” Jamie said, settling back into his chair like nothing had happened. Part of you wondered later on that night if it had really happened or if it had just been one amazing sexed out fever dream. That was until you got the email saying extra credit had been applied to your course. you couldn’t help but laugh as you settled in for the night, wondering what else you’d pretend to struggle with to end up in that office.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy @valeskafics @asgards-princess-of-mischief

#jamie lannister imagine #jamie lannister smut #jamie lannister x reader #jamie Lannister #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones smut #game of thrones kinktober #kinktober

531 notes · View notes

mydearviserra · 2 months ago

Text

Stones

Warning: Death, grief, affair

A whole year it took to finish his outfit

It was his favorite of all his clothing, he loved how much details and effort you took. One whole year of trying to finish this damn thing, he would often distract me from the beading pulling you away to crush his lips against yours then ultimately bed ending up on the bed. One found moment was when you were just almost done, he pulled you away again just for you to reluctantly pull away begging him your almost finished yet that night we broke the bed. Days we laughed at that day how embarrassing it was to call for a bed replacement.

You stood rigidly beside Tywin's bier, your face a mask of grief-stricken composure even as tears carved silent paths through the fine lines around your eyes and down your cheeks. The red gown you wore seemed to shimmer with each suppressed shudder, the Lannister lion crest emblazoned upon your bodice appearing almost mocking in its joviality. Your hands, clad in delicate silk gloves, gripped the side of the dress tightly as you gazed down at her deceased husband's still form, his eyes closed eternally beneath the stone likeness of his own stern visage.

Though the septa chanted solemn hymns and the nobles murmured their condolences, you barely heard them. Your mind was a tempest of anguish and rage, the betrayal you had discovered mere days ago still raw and festering. After fourteen years of marriage, three sons born from your womb, and Tywin had been rutting with some common whore? The shame of it burned hotter than your sorrow

there was a fragility to your poise, a barely restrained vulnerability that belied the strength and resilience she had long since cultivated. As your gaze flicked to Cersei, standing haughtily across the aisle, you felt a surge of loathing so intense it nearly choked you.

Turning back to Tywin, you whispered a final, fervent prayer, your voice trembling almost imperceptibly. "I loved you," you said softly, the words a benediction and an accusation all at once. "I loved you," you repeated, as if trying to convince yourself he’ll hear you

leaning closer, your gloved hand trembling as you reached out to caress Tywin's cold, lifeless cheek. Your eyes shimmering with unshed tears and barely contained rage, bored into his shuttered ones as if trying to wake him, to force him to account for his heinous betrayal.

"How could you do this to me, Tywin?" You whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. "After all these years, after the children we made together, how could you sully our marriage with some- some harlot?" Your breathing hitched on a sob, your fingers curling into a fist against his cheek.

"I wanted to hate you," you hissed, tears spilling down your face to splatter onto the stone covering Tywin's chest. “I tried to hate you, but I cannot. I cannot, because despite everything, I still... I still loved you, you wretched man." You choked on another sob, your body shaking with the force of your anguish and fury.

"I loved you," you repeated, your voice rising in pitch and volume, echoing through the cavernous sept. "And this is how you repaid my love? By taking some common whore to your bed? By defiling our marriage vows, our family name?" You shook your head "I wanted to scream at you, to rage against your betrayal until my throat was raw. I wanted to shake you, to make you see the pain you've caused me, caused our boys..."

Your voice dissolved into incoherent whispers and anguished cries, your body wracked with silent sobs as you leaned over Tywin's bier. The few mourners present cast furtive glances your way, murmuring their sympathy and unease. Yet you were lost in your own world of grief and fury, trapped in the prison of your own shattered heart.

“How could you forget, Tywin? How could you forget all the joyous moments we shared, all the laughter and love that filled our chambers? Do you remember the nights you worshipped my body, your calloused hands exploring every curve and contour as if mapping out the very essence of my being? I remember the way you would kiss me until I was breathless, until the world fell away and there was nothing but your touch, your passion, your love..."

You trailed off, a choked sob escaping your lips as you recalled happier times. "And the hours I spent, stitching and sewing, my fingers aching from the labor of love I poured into every stitch, every embroidered lion and golden rose. The outfit I made for you, the one you wear now in this final repose - it took me a year, Tywin. A year of my life, of my love, poured into a garment I hoped you would cherish, would honor, as much as I cherished and honored you."

You let out a bitter, mirthless laugh, shaking your head. "But you were too busy defiling our marriage, too busy rutting with some harlot to appreciate the time and love I put into your clothes, your life. You distracted me from my sewing with your kisses, your caresses, your lovemaking. And now, now you lie here in the fine garments I made for you, wearing them only to be buried in. It's a mockery, Tywin. A cruel, twisting mockery of all the love and happiness we once shared."

You leaned closer, your gloved hand fisting in the fine silk of Tywin's funeral shroud. "I wanted to give you everything, Tywin. I wanted to make you happy, to stand by your side as your wife and partner in all things. But now... now I don't know if I can even look at you, let alone mourn you as I once would have. You've taken a piece of my heart and shattered it, and I fear it will never be whole again."

Your voice hardened with bitter accusation as you confronted Tywin's corpse, your eyes flashing with jealous rage. "I want to know about her, Tywin. That harlot, that... that whore. What made her so different, so irresistible that you would betray our marriage vows, our family, for her?" You spat the words

"Was she more beautiful than I? More skilled in the art of lovemaking? Did she whisper sweet lies and empty flatteries in your ear, stroking your ego and your pride until you forgot the woman who had stood faithfully by your side for over a decade?" Your voice rose, echoing through the vaulted chamber as you gave vent to her pain and anger.

"She could not have loved you, Tywin. She could not have appreciated the man you were, the power and influence you wielded. She was a opportunist, a harlot who saw in you a means to elevate her station, to line her pockets and fill her belly." Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the silk of your gloves creaking under the force of your grip.

"And yet, you looked her way. You touched her flesh, joined your body with hers, when you had a wife who loved you, who cherished you, who gave you sons and built a life with you." You shook your head. "I will never understand it, Tywin. I will never comprehend how you could cast aside the love and loyalty of your wife for a moment's fleeting pleasure with a woman who cared for nothing but herself."

Fresh tears spilled down your face as you loomed over Tywin's bier, her voice breaking on an anguished sob as she lifted her hands again caressing his cheeks "You broke my heart, Tywin. You broke our marriage, our family, with your betrayal. And now, now you lie here, beyond reach of my anger, my sorrow, my desperate need to understand why. Why, Tywin? Why her? Why not me, your wife, your y/n ?

"If only you had loved Tyrion, truly loved him as a father should love his son, none of this would have come to pass. He was your son, your own blood, and yet you cast him aside, treated him with contempt and scorn." Your hands cupped his cheeks, your warm skin mixing with his cold flesh sent a shiver of resentment

"If you had given Tyrion the love, the approval, the support he so desperately craved from you, he would have never felt the need to seek revenge. He would have been content, proud to be your son, your heir. But you denied him that, and in doing so, you sowed the seeds of your own destruction." Your eyes blazed with a mixture of sorrow and accusation as you gazed down at your husband's dead face.

"Tyrion loved you, Tywin, as only a son can love his father. And you repaid that love with cruelty and neglect. You rode him, mocked him, belittled his every achievement. You even went so far as to have him imprisoned, to threaten his life, all for the sake of your precious honor." The tears of bitter disappointment dripping down to his face

"If you had simply shown Tyrion the love and acceptance he needed, he would have never resorted to such desperate measures. He would have been grateful, loyal, true to you and our family. But instead, your intransigence, your stubborn refusal to see the good in him, to love him as he deserved to be loved, drove him to the brink of madness."

Your rose to a anguished scream as you confronted Tywin's lifeless form. "This is your doing, Tywin! Your cruelty, your blindness, your utter failure as a father and a husband. If you had only loved Tyrion, truly loved him, then he would not have had to kill you for you to finally acknowledge him, to finally see him as your son. And now, now you lie here, beyond redemption, beyond forgiveness, and all because you could not, would not love your own son!”

You slumped against the edge of Tywin's bier, your body shaking with the force of your sobs as the weight of your anguish and fury crashed down upon her. You gripped the cold stone with white-knuckled fingers, your head bowed as tears fell onto Tywin's shrouded chest. Your voice was a broken whisper, raw with emotion.

"How could I not have seen it before, Tywin? The seeds of your downfall, the rot that festered in your heart and mind, driving you to cast aside all that you held dear? I thought our love was stronger, our family unbreakable, but I was a fool." You laughed bitterly, the sound muffled against his chest . "I was a fool to believe that a man who could not love his own son, his own flesh and blood, could ever truly love me."

. "I will have to be strong now, Tywin. I will have to be strong for our sons, for they have lost their father and must now navigate a world that will seek to take from them what they have inherited. And I will have to find a way to forgive you, to lay this bitterness and anger down, so that I may be the mother they need." The further you buried your face against his chest it made your stomach turn, the stiffness, the way his clothes didn’t even get to smell like him yet. For a moment, a split moment I was waiting for him to caress my head and call me his sweet dove.

. "I loved you, Tywin. I loved you so deeply, so profoundly, that I gave you everything I had to offer. My youth, my beauty, my fertility, my loyalty, my devotion... I surrendered it all to you, to us, to the future we were meant to build together." You rose him his chest, your hand cupping onto his. His cold empty hands once held a ring he cherished. His wedding ring now sat on my middle finger

You leaned in closer, her forehead nearly touching his. "But you, you threw it all away. You cast aside the love and devotion of your wife, your partner, your soulmate, for the fleeting pleasures of a harlot's flesh. And in doing so, you destroyed everything we had, everything we were."

"I wanted to grow old with you, Tywin. I wanted to sit by the hearth of our castle, our hands entwined, reminiscing about the life we had built together, the love we had shared. I wanted to watch our grandchildren play at our feet, to know that all we had sacrificed, all we had endured, had been for a purpose. But now, now there will be no golden years, no twilight days filled with the warmth of our love."

You pulled back slightly, your eyes searching Tywin's shuttered ones as if trying to find some semblance of the man you had once loved. "I will never forgive you for this, Tywin. I will never forgive you for taking everything I had to give and leaving me with nothing but the hollow shell of a life, a family, a love that once meant everything to me. And now, now I must find a way to fill the void you've left behind, to rebuild the wreckage of a life shattered by your betrayal."

You took a final, shuddering breath, your voice a broken whisper as you leaned in to press a kiss upon Tywin's cold, still lips. "Goodbye, my love. Goodbye, my heart. I will always love you, even as I learn to hate you for the cruelty and pain you've inflicted upon me, upon our sons, upon all those who dared to love you. Farewell, Tywin. May the gods grant you the peace and redemption you denied yourself in life."

Cersei approached the bier where Tywin lay, her emerald gown sweeping behind her as she walked. Her face was a mask of cold, aloof beauty, but her eyes glittered with a cruelty She paused beside you, looking down at Tywin's corpse with a thinly veiled smirk playing at the corners of your ruby lips

Jamie followed close behind, his hand resting gently on the small of Cersei's back. He cut a striking figure in his black armor, the golden lion of Lannister etched into the breastplate. His face was etched with sorrow and grief, but there was a hardness to his eyes, a steely determination that suggested he would not let Tywin's death go unavenged.

As they approached, you looked up, your tear-stained face a picture of anguish and despair. You knew the animosity between you and Cersei, the jealousy and hatred that had festered in the woman's heart for years. She braced herself for the cutting remarks, the barbed words of condolence that you knew Cersei would not be able to resist voicing.

Cersei leaned in close to you , her voice a low, venomous hiss. "My dear y/n," she purred, her tone dripping with false sympathy. "Please accept my deepest condolences on the loss of your beloved husband. I know how much you cherished him, how devoted you were to his every whim and desire." She paused, letting the implication of her words sink in, the unspoken accusation that you had failed to keep Tywin's affections and loyalties.

Jamie stepped forward, his hand tightening on Cersei's arm. "Cersei,” he warned, his voice low and filled with a quiet menace. "This is not the time or the place for your cruelty and spite. y/n has lost her husband, the father of her children. Have some pity, some compassion."

Cersei merely smirked, pulling away from Jamie's grasp. "Oh, but I do have pity, dear brother. I pity Y/n , for she has lost so much more than a husband. She has lost the love and respect of her family, of her people. And all for the sin of not being able to keep her man happy”

"You think you have the right to judge me, Cersei? To cast aspersions on my love, my devotion, my loyalty to Tywin?" Your voice rose, echoing through the vaulted chamber. "You, who have never known the depth of love and commitment that I shared with your father?"

You took a step towards Cersei, your head held high, your chin jutting out in a gesture of defiance. "I gave Tywin everything I had to give, Cersei. Every ounce of my love, my passion, my very soul. I stood by his side through every trial, every tribulation, every triumph. I bore his children, I built his legacy, I loved him with a fierce and unyielding devotion that you could never begin to comprehend."

Your voice cracked with emotion, but you pressed on, undeterred. "And you dare to stand there, to look down at me. Your jealousy- of me isn’t anything compared to the hatred I have for you how you made me miserable yet you know Tywin love me more then he ever did Joanna. Don’t start reflecting your miserable life to make yourself feel better. Seven hells you couldn’t keep Robert happy! You walk around with bastards of your own brother don’t you dare start with me!”

#x reader #x female reader #asoif/got #game of thrones #tywin x reader #tywin lannister x reader #tywin lannister #got tywin #tywin lannister smut #house lannister #cersei lannister #jamie lannister #got fanfiction #got x reader #oneshot #got x y/n #charles dance

61 notes · View notes