#jaime lannister is an idiot

[zetaaa]

Silly me, today I'm mad at one Jaime Lannister for leaving the sweetest girl behind. Ok, he did come back and rescue her in the end, but that was AFTER.

Idiot of a Lannister.

(posting Magali Villeneuve's "In the Bear Pit" with the hope the bear will trash him this time)

[sierrabravoecho]

A Storm of Swords Jaime II / A Feast for Crows Brienne VI

This scene always breaks my heart because you just know that Brienne was going to say that she was her father’s only surviving child

[writergirl2011]

Public Service Announcement

To all of the following:

1) Reddit Dudebros

2) Idiots who think that Jaime and Brienne should stay “just friends, because a romance would ruin the refreshing story of a man and a woman who don’t have those kind of feelings for each other"

3) Idiots who think that Jaime and Brienne “will share a Arthurian, courtly love but won’t even think of consummating their relationship”

4) Idiots who think that Brienne deserves better than Jaime, but somehow think that “better” is being a glorified bodyguard for one of the Stark siblings and forget that she's the only heir to an entire island and title

5) Idiots who think that Jaime will always be obsessed by Cersei and couldn’t possibly love another woman

6) BNFs who think They Know Better Than You because they spend waaaaay too much time analyzing the books, picking them apart for every tiny detail, yet still somehow miss the obvious--then spend hours on end telling us silly shippers on their podcasts why they're right and we're wrong

7) g: all of the above--

George R.R. Martin has based Jaime and Brienne on “Beauty and the Beast.”    Please pay attention to this next part:

Beauty and the Beast is not a tale of courtly, platonic love between two “bros” who respect each other.  It is a story of two people who start out as enemies, grow to like and respect each other, and then fall in love.  There has never been a published or filmed version of the story that has had an ending where they don’t fall in love, even if the story doesn’t end happily.  It doesn’t end with Beauty returning to his former girlfriend saying, “thanks, Beast, it was fun and all, but better luck next time.”  Nor does it end with Beast saying, “Beauty is dead and gone, so I think I’ll spend the rest of my life in the celibate organization that he derided for the joke it was even though I’m my father’s sole remaining heir.”

Reading comprehension is a thing, people.  Look into it.

Thank you for reading this public service announcement.

[uluthrek]

reblog if you agree that the war of the five kings wouldn’t have happened if jaime hadn’t gotten his ass handed to him at the tourney for joffrey’s name day.

[snowprincesa1]

Brienne best girl 💋💋💋💋

JAIME LANNISTER           ↳Refusing to admit his Brienne of Tarth situation to himself

[zetaaa]

Still mad about it.

No, my dear Jaime, you don't leave a girl wench behind after Roose "Skinner" Bolton tells her she has to worry about herself, and a lot. You don't do that. What the hell were you thinking?!??

(⬆ definitely not me dealing with the disappointment by making a bear pit GIF without Jaime)

(If there is any good in this GIF, it is thanks to Magali Villeneuve's amazing artwork, which inspired me. You can find it also here ⬇)

[lookatthethrones]

Fact: Brienne has literally never done anything wrong in her entire life and is in fact incapable of doing anything wrong.

Thus: being cringe is not a crime. (One could even say it is a virtue and rename it something like 'unhindered authenticity')

In conclusion: having a crush on Jaime Lannister is a virtue and therefore poorly reanimated corpses should definitely refrain from even considering executing you over it.

the way lady stoneheart was really gonna execute brienne for crimes of being cringe (having a crush on jaime lannister)

[maysileeewrites]

INVISIBLE STRING

Robb Stark x fem!reader || 17+ 

Summary: But somehow, you’d always felt yourself drawn to Robb the most. Almost as if there was an invisible string tying the two of you together. || Or: You, Robb and some unexpected nighttime confessions … 

masterlist || w.c.: 4.2.k (oops?!)

tropes/content: friends to lovers, angst!! & fluff, Robb being a bit of a daft idiot (it’s a canon event in this fic), bantering & teasing; Robb and reader both having a little bit of a flair for the dramatic; some spice at the end (nothing too graphic though, just a good-ol’ make-out session)

AN: When I started writing this, I was expecting it to go completely different. Initially, I’d planned this to be quite smutty, with just a sweet little love confession beforehand. But whilst writing, I realized that there were so many different emotions that were preoccupying both Robb and Reader that going the full-on smut route didn’t feel entirely fitting for this fic. But don’t worry, I’ve got quite a lot of other fic ideas for Robb Stark! Hopefully you’ll enjoy reading this one just as much as I did writing it :) 

When you wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. 

Empty. 

The bedsheets are still neatly arranged - unused. 

Immediately, you’re wide awake, shaking off that dizzy, disoriented state your mind always is in the first few seconds upon waking. There’s nothing hazy or disoriented about your thoughts now though, instead there’s only this cold, bitter fear clawing at you as you hastily sit up, quickly adjusting your nightgown before getting out of bed. 

Goosebumps immediately break out on your skin, because even though your nightgown has wide, long sleeves, the fabric is quite thin, due to the thick, incredibly warm furs you - and your best friend - always sleep under. Stepping into your slippers, you shiver, drawing the thin fabric of your nightgown tighter around yourself, but you don’t stop to pick up the shift you usually wear over your nightgown. 

Instead, you step around the curtains separating your bed from the rest of the tent. Your heart grows heavier when you take in the rest of the tent - cold and untouched. 

Robb isn’t here. 

Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of dread in your stomach - this isn’t the first time this has happened, in fact, it’s already happened twice this week -, you walk towards the entrance of your tent, picking up one of the lanterns illuminating the tent and trying to think of where Robb could possibly be this time. 

Hopefully he isn’t talking to the Kingslayer again, you think. But no, this already happened two days ago. Surely the Kingslayer can’t have wormed his way that much into Robb’s mind already, can he? But then again, this is the Kingslayer. 

You shudder, not just from the bitter, cold night air hitting your skin as you step out of your tent, but also recalling that moment two nights ago, when you found Robb talking to the Kingslayer. 

While your best friend had seemed less than happy at your arrival, a smirk had spread across Jaime Lannister’s face. 

„Finally“, he’d said, totally unbothered by the glare on Robb’s face. „A pretty face I can put to the girl that’s clouding the young Starkling’s thoughts.“ 

„Don’t talk to her!“, Robb had growled, and you’re just as startled by recalling the anger and intensity in his voice as you’d been in the moment. 

Later, when you’d made it back into your tent - back under the thick fur covers and back into Robb’s uncertain, tentative embrace - you’d asked him what the Kingslayer had meant by his words.

Though you couldn’t see it, as your back was pressed to Robb’s chest - one of his large hands splayed rather possessively across your stomach, the grip of his other hand on your waist tightening upon your words - you could practically feel him scowling. 

„Nothing - he’s just trying to get into your head as well.“ 

And that had been that - at least for Robb. 

You, on the other hand, hadn’t been able to go back to sleep that night.

Suddenly, sleep had seemed impossible, with your best friend - though was that even the right term to adequately describe the relationship between you and Robb? - right behind you, his hands on your hip and stomach, his warm, even breaths tickling your skin. 

So close. 

Robb was so close to you - he has been, for some time now. 

Even closer than what you’re used to with him.  

Growing up at Winterfell together, you’ve always been close to each other. Thick as thieves, as your mother, Lady Catelyn’s maid, always says fondly. With Robb being just a few months older than you, it had seemed only natural to spend as much of your time as possible with the oldest of the Stark children. 

Growing up, you’d done almost everything together. You, Robb and his half brother Jon. As little children, you’d played in the woods surrounding Winterfell, using little wooden swords to learn how to fight with a sword. You’d ignored your mother’s words that it wasn’t becoming of a young girl to spend all her time running around with boys, like a little wildling - just like Robb ignored his brother’s and Theon’s teasing remark when you tried showing him how to knit. 

With Robb, it had always been easy to just completely forget the rest of the world and get absorbed in this little universe you two had carved out for yourself. One where it didn’t matter that his brothers and Theon were teasing him relentlessly that he was spending so much time with you, a girl. One that was neither his sister nor taken in by the Stark family, so really, there was no reason - at least in Jon’s and Theon’s minds - for Robb to spend so much time with someone that wasn’t family. 

When you got older, a new undertone found its way into their comments, like when you’d danced with Robb during the festivities for his fourteenth name day or when he’d turned red like a ripe tomato upon seeing you in your newest dress that you’d gotten as a gift from your mother for your fifteenth name day.

But these comments had never really bothered either of you too much and they certainly didn’t stop you from spending as much as possible of your time with Robb.

Of course, you’d also spent time with Sansa, Jon, Theon and then eventually Arya, Bran and Rickon, yet somehow, you’d always felt yourself drawn to Robb the most. Almost as if there was an invisible string tying the two of you together.

Precisely the words your mother used a few months ago, when you’d told her that you’d be accompanying Robb on his campaign to King’s Landing. 

„I know that there’s no point in arguing with you on this, not when dear Robb is involved“, she’d said, sighing, drawing you into an embrace. „But just know my dear child, that I will kill the young lord myself if he doesn’t bring you back home to me safely.“ 

And despite of the draining last few months behind you, the memory warms your heart and brings a smile to your lips. 

However, the warmth doesn’t last long. It’s gone, snuffed out like the flame of a candle, when you see how dark - and empty - Robb’s tent is. 

Fortunately for you, one of the guards stationed outside the tent - it had been you, alongside with Robb’s mother, Lady Catelyn, that had finally convinced him that as Lord of Winterfell and King in the North, he does need protection around himself at all times, and not just when he feels fitting - notices you. 

You know the guard quite well - in fact, he’s the one who’d pointed you to the Kingslayer’s cage two nights ago and accompanied you there. He’s young, only a few years older than you and Robb, friendly and quite overeager to prove himself. If you recall correctly, his name is Gerad. 

„He went into the nearby woods, my Lady“, Gerad now informs you, worry and regret coloring his words. „Snuck out of his tent some time ago, and when me and Ben over there noticed him, insisted that we do not follow him. He took his direwolf with him, though.“ 

You frown, sighing. This sounds just like Robb. At least Grey Wind is with him, though the thought isn’t as reassuring as you’d like it to be.

„He especially insisted that we were not to inform you of his whereabouts my Lady, he didn’t want you to worry or go after him.“ 

You just shake your head. Now, this sounds even more like Robb.

„Of course he did“, you mutter, inwardly cursing your best friend and his stupid reckless tendencies. 

Not giving Gerad the chance to say anything else, you turn around, already walking away, ignoring the words he calls after you. 

„But - my Lady, it’s dark and - and I don’t think you should go alone into the woods at night…“ 

Crossing your arms in front of your chest, trying to fight off the chill of the cool night air, you quicken your pace. Gerad is right - it’s dark and seven hells knows what’s lurking inside of the woods, especially at night. 

But Robb needs you right now, and so, you swallow down your fear and tighten your grip on the lantern, as you walk into the woods. At least you had the foresight to grab the lantern, you think, as you stumble over a branch, cursing quietly when your nightgown gets caught in a root. 

You curse yourself for not throwing over your linen shift over your nightgown, because even though knowing your luck the shift would have probably got caught in a root as well, it at least would have offered you some protection against the bitterly cold night air. 

You’re freezing and your teeth have already started chattering, but just turning around and walking back to your warm tent and the thick, warm furs isn’t an option. Not when you still haven’t found Robb. 

Just then, the light of your lantern falls onto a familiar silhouette and in your hasty excitement to get to Robb, you stumble, almost tripping over a branch on the ground. The loud sound of the branch snapping echoes off into the night air, causing Robb - it really is him, thank the seven! - to turn around. Grey Wind is by his side in an instant and though you hear the threatening growl of the dire wolf, he immediately relaxes once he recognizes you.

When Robb sees you, his eyes widen in shock, and instantly, he’s at your side.

Worried, he calls out your name. „What - what are you doing here? Are you mad? You could’ve frozen to death! Here, take this!“ 

Ignoring your protest - secretly you’ve always thought that Robb had a bit of a flair for the dramatic, because, really while it might indeed be freezing, saying that you could’ve frozen to death is a bit of a stretch- he immediately takes off his thick fur coat and wraps it around you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and drawing you into his chest in the process. 

„I - I’m not - Robb, please, I’m fine!“ 

„Fine?“, Robb asks, raising his eyebrows, but he can’t entirely mask his evident concern for you, „you’re shivering, Princess.“ 

You’re so distracted by his sudden proximity that you don’t even protest the term of endearment that Robb often uses to tease you. 

Using your momentary distraction to his advantage, Robb continues to admonish you. „What are you even doing out here, all alone at night? Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be walking through the woods, all by yourself-“

„I was worried about you, you idiot!“, you interrupt him, softly hitting his chest, finally overcoming your confusion, even though his hands on your waist and shoulders and the intensity in his bright, blue eyes still very much distract you. 

„I - what?“ 

Robb sounds genuinely baffled at your words and you can’t help but roll your eyes at him. You love him, you really do, but sometimes he can be a bit - well, daft. 

Then, you freeze, going over your thoughts again. 

The realization hits you like an icy wind on a stormy winter night in Winterfell: you love him. 

At first, the thought doesn’t feel entirely new. You’ve always loved Robb, in some capacity.

But this - this is different. 

This isn’t the gentle, steady kinship you’ve felt for him all these years, this almost familial kind of love. 

This is much more akin to the way your heart was beating wildly in your chest that night a few years ago, when Robb asked you to dance with him on the festivities for his fourteenth name day. 

Or the way you felt your palms grow sweaty when Robb first saw you in your new dress for your fifteenth name day. 

Or the dizzy, breathless way you felt that one night last spring when Robb had gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, before leaning down towards you, his eyes unable to hold your gaze, instead flickering towards your lips - only for him to almost jump away from you when Jon had entered his chamber unannounced. 

And the look in Robb’s eyes right now is not unlike the one back then. So full of emotion and intense-

Just then, Robb softly mutters your name. „Hey, you still with me?“, he asks, his tone light and teasing, but you can see the concern for you in his eyes. 

You don’t answer his question. 

Instead, almost as if your mind and heart had just been waiting for you to finally realize your true feelings for Robb, it’s as if a heavy, constant weight on your chest has lifted from you and all the words you’ve held back these last few weeks - all this fear and worry that have been gnawing at you - finally fall from your lips. 

„What were you thinking, Robb?“, you say, voice colored with worry and frustration. 

Robb’s blue eyes widen in confusion at your sudden shift in mood, but you don’t give him any chance to interrupt you, ploughing on instead. 

„Probably nothing, right? You’re so … by the seven, you can be so - stupid sometimes, Robb!“ 

Robb frowns and he says your name in irritation, but you quickly interrupt him. 

„Do you know how dangerous it is for you to just go off, sneaking into the woods, alone, at night? You’re the King, Robb! Just think about what would’ve happened if it wasn’t me that had found you, but someone else instead, maybe even an assassin-“

Saying your name again, Robb interrupts you. „I have Grey Wind with me. And we have guards stationed all around the Camp-“

„Oh yes, those same guards that didn’t even notice the first few times you snuck away at night?“, you reply frostily, raising your eyebrows at him. 

„What - why are you making such a big deal out of this?“ Now Robb’s voice is colored in anger and frustration, but you don’t back down. 

„Because you’re my best friend and I-“

And I love you. 

The words are right there, right on the tip of your tongue, but maybe right now isn’t exactly the best moment to say them out loud for the first time. No, first you need to get it through Robb’s incredibly thick and stubborn skull that this isn’t Winterfell - this is war, and even though Robb’s first instinct will always be to protect everyone else first, he needs to take care of himself as well. 

And you want him to know that he can always rely on you, can always talk to you. 

Because even though Robb hasn’t really talked about it to you yet, you think that you have a good grasp on just what exactly it is that’s been bothering him so much lately. 

„ - and I worry about you! Do you think I haven’t noticed how distracted you’ve been lately, Robb?“ 

„I don’t - you don’t need to worry about-“, Robb starts to say, but you quickly interrupt him. 

„Yes. Yes, I do. And I think that by now you know me well enough to know that I will always worry about you, Robb.“ 

At this, Robb’s resolve finally breaks and he laughs sadly. 

„I’m always here for you, Robb“, you say, tone much more gentler than just a few seconds before. 

Robb sighs heavily. „I know, Princess, I know. I didn’t want to - this must be hard enough for you as it is and I don’t want you to carry this burden as well, I don’t want you to worry so much about me-“ 

„And so you thought it better to just sneak off alone at night?“, you reply, irritated. „You thought that wouldn’t worry me?“ 

At this, Robb looks at you rather sheepishly. „I hoped that you wouldn’t notice.“ 

When you inhale sharply, he immediately rushes on. „It’s just - it’s all so - it’s so much, all the time … and I just - I need - I need some time to think, to be alone, to just breathe and- I don’t know, everyone always expects so much of me and I know that I must sound like an ungrateful, whiny coward right now, but I don’t - I never asked for this - this responsibility. Not under these circumstances, I - I just want to avenge my father and to save my sisters and most of the time I feel like I don’t even know what I’m doing … I don’t - these people, they all call me their king, but I just - I-“

He breaks off, biting his lips in frustration and angrily shaking his head. „It’s stupid, I know. Which is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you any of this.“ 

„No, it’s not stupid“, you say softly, gently brushing one of his auburn curls out of his face. „None of it is.“ 

„But-“, Robb starts to protest, but you shake your head at him. 

„It’s not, Robb. These times are hard for all of us, but especially for you. You’ve been thrust into this role without warning, under horrible circumstances. And for that I’d say that you’re handling things extremely well - the only thing I think you should change is talking to your best friend more often.“ 

Robb grins. „Oh, really?“ 

„Really.“ 

„Oh, and why is that?“ 

Robb’s blue eyes are alight with amusement and you can’t help but grin back at him. 

Later, you’ll talk to him again, about all of this. It’s too much, too important to just leave it at that, but right now, both of you need a warmer, brighter moment. 

„Because you need to talk to someone. And because it’s incredibly stupid of you to just sneak off like that, alone at night.“ 

Robb’s grin widens. „Well, if you promise to stop calling me stupid so frequently, then maybe I’ll think about it.“ 

You laugh. „I’m sorry, but it’s true! I love you, Robb, but sometimes you can really be a bit of an idiot-“

Your eyes widen in shock. 

Already, you can feel your cheeks burning up. 

You said it. 

You actually said it, out loud. Just like that, without even thinking about it. Oh, by the seven, how could you be so incredibly - well, stupid? 

Robb’s silence and the stunned look on his face isn’t helping, either. 

„I didn’t - I didn’t mean it like - I just - I“, you stammer awkwardly, trying to hide your face behind your hands. 

But then Robb’s hands are there, gently cupping your cheeks, and before you can fully comprehend what’s happening, he leans down towards you and softly presses his lips against yours. 

For a moment, you’re too stunned, too shocked to react. 

Then, you register what’s happening: Robb is kissing you. He heard your confession and didn’t turn away from you. 

A soft, surprised noise escapes you, and just when you feel Robb starting to pull away from you, you throw your hands around his neck, reciprocating the kiss with so much force that Robb stumbles, caught off guard. 

Chuckling, he breaks the kiss. „Someone’s eager“, he says, grinning down at you. 

Your cheeks start to burn even more, and you roll your eyes at Robb. „You’re so stupid.“ 

„Didn’t you promise to stop calling me that?“, Robb asks, while gently brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. 

„Promise?“, you ask, raising your eyebrows at him. „I don’t recall promising you anything-“ 

„Well, maybe you just need a reminder“, Robb murmurs, before his lips claim yours in a hungry kiss. 

And if Robb’s idea of a reminder to stop calling him stupid consists of him kissing you senseless, so that every coherent thought in your head is washed away, then he very much succeeds with it. His lips move against yours and just when you can feel his tongue prodding at your lower lip, one of his hands trails down from your cheek, moving over your collarbone, your chest - here, your breath actually hitches and you swear that you can feel Robb grinning into the kiss -, your sides, until it settles on your waist. 

Overwhelmed, you move your hands up from his neck, tangling them in his auburn curls, trying to ground yourself against the onslaught of different sensations. 

Robb’s tongue hungrily exploring your mouth. 

His hand on your waist, his grip on you so certain and dominant that you don’t even care that he’s most likely going to leave bruises on your skin. 

His other hand still assuredly cupping your face, his calloused fingertips softly moving over your skin. 

Your heart, beating frantically in your chest. 

There’s still a certain sense of wonderment within you, a small part of yourself that keeps asking whether this is actually happening. Because Robb kissing you senseless is all of your wildest dreams come true, and then some. 

But almost as if in reply to your thoughts, Robb uses the hand that’s settled on your waist to draw you in even closer, until you’re pushed right against his chest and now, there’s really no space left between you two. 

Even through the thick fur coat you’re still wearing you can feel the hardened planes of Robb’s chest, and something else, something harder straining against his breeches. 

A soft, surprised noise escapes you. 

Just then, you shift, trying to move one of your hands up higher, but then you accidentally grind yourself against Robb in the process. The chocked off moan that leaves Robb as a reaction leaves you feeling dizzy and breathless - and wanting to repeat that exact same movement in order to elicit that delicious noise from Robb again. 

Feeling bold and brazen, you press yourself even closer against Robb, but just then, Robb’s grip on your waist tightens, keeping you in place. 

Breathlessly, Robb breaks the kiss, looking at you with such an intense fire in his eyes that is in stark contrast to his next words. „Not - not here. I mean - I - maybe we should - go back … back to camp, back to our-your tent, I mean, I … “

You smile. 

His curls are a mess, his lips are red and swollen from kissing you and his cheeks are looking rather flushed and pink, but to you, he’s never looked more beautiful than in this moment. 

„You’re right“, you say, sounding just as breathless as Robb. Still smiling, you reach up to brush a few curls out of his face. 

For a moment, Robb closes his eyes, leaning into your soft, comforting touch. 

If it’s even possible, you feel your smile widening even more. 

Robb looks so beautiful. So peaceful and serene-

Then, suddenly, his hands on your waist are scooping you up into his arms, and carrying you in bridal style, he starts walking through the forest, Grey Wind following at his side, ignoring your protests. 

Hastily, you throw your arms around his neck for support. 

„Robb, just let me down, I can walk just fine!“, you huff, but once again, he ignores your protest. 

This continues all the while through the forest, and even once you’ve reached camp, he just smirks at your continued protest. Frustrated, you roll your eyes at him, even though you feel like you might die from embarrassment due to the curious looks the guards stationed around camp throw you two. 

„Finally!“, you say, sighing frustratedly and crossing your arms in front of your chest, after Robb entered your tent and finally let you go. 

Though your irritation doesn’t seem to phase Robb in the slightest - instead, he just grins. 

„Really“, you continue, shaking your head at him, „I could’ve managed fine on my own. No need for all that fuss.“ 

Sighing, Robb steps closer towards you, gently tugging a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

„Look, I’m sorry, it’s just - this night … it’s all so - gods, I’ve loved you for so long and to finally realize that you feel the same way - can you imagine what an incredible feeling that is?“ 

For a moment, you’re too stunned to say anything. 

Your eyes find Robb’s and when you see all his love and yearning for you reflected in them, your throat suddenly feels dry. 

Biting down hard on your lip, you uncross your arms from in front of your chest and reach for Robb’s free hand - the other is still tenderly cupping your face -, intertwining your fingers together.

You know exactly how Robb feels. After all, it seems that you two have been going through the exact same thoughts and emotions these last few weeks. 

„Robb“, you whisper, looking up at him. 

You both lean towards each other at the same time and your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, so full of emotion that it’s threatening to overwhelm you even more. 

When he breaks the kiss, Robb leans his forehead against yours, smiling softly. 

„By the seven, you’re incredible. I love you - I love you so much, Princess.“ 

You press another chaste, soft kiss to his lips, still smiling so stupidly widely that normally, Robb would’ve already made a teasing remark. „And I love you, Robb.“ 

Robb laughs, the sound a bit shaky and uncertain, but still it warms your heart. „I fear that I’ll never get tired of hearing these words.“ 

You laugh. And then, because you can’t not say it: „Stupid“, you murmur lovingly under your breath. 

Robb laughs. „Yes - but you love me.“ 

And not giving you the chance to come up with a reply, he leans down to kiss you again. 

i really hope you liked reading this <3

tagging: (if you want your tag to be removed, just lmk, but I thought I'd tag you just in case!) @wrensical003 @2049garden @rheanyraaaa @amethystinie @vyctorya @dragontearsandunicornfears @heartofmortis @2049web

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Jaime Lannister Headcanons:

❝ He kept saying… burn them all. ❝

[SFW + No Gendered Terms]

General Warnings: Angst with comfort, Trauma, Mentions of Incest, Mentions of torture, Mentions of sex

A/N: Sadly this got taken down before so this is a redone version :( This isn’t an identical list to the previous one but hopefully more detailed!!

Redemption Era:

> Jaime has been through hell and back. The disillusionment of everything he ever pushed away setting in and he doesn’t feel worthy anymore.

> He could masquerade his regrets with his ego for so long. Failing innocent after innocent, he could hold himself in high regard for the one thing people shames him for most: Being a Kingslayer, as he knew it was for a good reason.

> But being so long away from his family for months on end, being a captive prisoner who was constantly berated and abused, and being mutilated, he’s become a shell of himself.

> Being with him in these moments is an uphill battle because he simultaneously craves being loved but pushes you away constantly.

> He doesn’t know how to be loved outside of how Cersei treated him. After all, he was infatuated with his sister but it was a constant toxic push-and-pull relationship.

> Jaime is more closed-off, more stoic and perhaps a more temperamental even. He would hesitate to even entertain the idea of intimacy with anyone.

> Then those feelings start to build and he’s confused. He’s not an idiot nor blind—he knows when someone is objectively attractive but he’s never acted on intimate feelings because he was loyal to Cersei. But now he’s treated with disgust for his lacking hand and you’re still there.

> Jaime would simply stare for a while at you. Trying to figure out why you. Why couldn’t his eyes keep away from you?

> He would imagine what it would feel like to be with you behind closed doors. To hold you and touch you when everything and everyone was shut out besides you two. But who wants a one-handed man?

> You would have to be the one to initiate. He’d hesitate and flinch away at the close contact at first before giving in and softly meeting your lips.

> He's incredibly gentle with you. It's as though he worries he could break you with the slightest touch.

> "It is not that I wish to be away from you. But I feel as though... I do not understand how to love the right way anymore."

> Jaime is slow to open up, if ever within the first few months and it's understandable as to why. Even in this state, he has more faith in you than anyone else.

> Jaime's main Love Languages are: Acts of Service and Quality Time.

> Jaime wants to feel useful even with his missing arm. If he can do something for you even without it, he considers it “proving his worth”. :(

> This can be any sort of thing that he can be of assistance in so long as it helps you out in some way.

> Jaime would be more than happy if you asked him for help in something. He's dropping everything he's doing for you immediately.

> This would also include in the bedroom. Highly doubt Cersei wouldn’t have taught Jaime what felt good for women or not so he’s quite proficient in pleasing you. It’s one of those moments where he can brag.

> “Still good with this hand, love, don’t you worry.”

> While he can be busy or taken up by his duties, that is why quality time is so important to him. He wants specific, well-thought out, dedicated time just for the two of you.

> Often times, it may be a lunch or dinner of sorts. It's time just for the two of you to talk with no interruptions.

> He's also a fan of the lingering moments after bedding, wrapped in each other's arms. There's something about the warmth of each other's bodies in the after-bliss that just melts him.

> Jaime’s favorite Love Languages to receive are: Physical Touch and Words of Affirmation.

> Unfortunately, due to Cersei’s treatment of Jaime through their own relationship, Jaime values himself through sexuality.

> He feels something is wrong if sex is not on the table at each interaction you two have. It takes a while for this to be unraveled.

> Touching him in an intimate and romantic manner: holding his cheek, brushing through his hair with your fingers, kissing his scars, etc. has him confused.

> He stares for a while blankly and can feel himself for once feel something he hasn’t in a long while: fear. Such affections were unknown to him in the way you did them. They weren’t for favors, manipulations, or to be used for selfish gratifications. They were for him to know he’s loved.

> Jaime can honestly cry at this. Just going limp in his posing rather than having his shoulders back and head high and planting his head into your chest or on your shoulder and silently crying.

> Another thing is reminders on how loved he is. He’s more uncertain of himself. He is still a Lannister, don’t get me wrong. He keeps an ego and level of confidence to him. But he’s not sure as to if he’s doing well by you.

> A compliment on his sword skills while he’s sparring has him returning to that cocky grin he always used to have while brushing it off as nothing. Inside, he feels warmth in his chest that he’s still good at that with his left hand.

> Admiring his body even with his missing hand is initially met with disbelief and disregard. No one looks at a one-handed man and says anything good. Slowly over time with you though, and it puts a warm smile on his face.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[visenyaism]

in the jaime lannister riverlands disco elysium game drama is obviously just lannisterisms. shivers works 50% of the time for weirwood premonitions but the other half it’s just shivers: HEY YOU PUSHED ME OUT OF A WINDOW. KYS IDIOT. jaime cant figure out what that’s about. his conceptualization isnt high enough

[writergirl2011]

These are probably the same people who say that JB can’t possibly be a romance because it undermines the idea that men and women can’t be friends, or that he just respects her, or any number of reasons to talk around the fact that what they’re really saying is, “Brienne’s not hot enough to interest Jaime.”

feel like there’s a certain type of user who will tell you if you buy into JB and/or the redemption narrative you’re undermining Jaime’s complex grey character and then you look to see what they think of Jaime and it’s just ‘stupid irredeemable little demon man with no arc terminally obsessed with Cersei’ and it’s like oh right wow. can’t believe I was missing out on all this fine character work I’ll delete my blog

[villaingaze]

PART 2 — WAR HAS CHANGED.

jaime lannister x fem!reader

word count. 2.5k

synopsis. in the aftermath of a war between the houses ambrose and lannister, you and jaime have much to reconcile your unresolved feelings.

tags. canon divergence, mutual pining/yearning, jealousy, idiots in love, drunkenness, suggestive themes!

gif by blackthornluce

An hour had settled into the evening. The halls had never accommodated a livelier audience; the hearty conversations and raucous laughter from drunken lords and ladies filled the air, and a merry dance took place in the middle of the room.

But you didn’t seem to rejoice with the others. You lost your appetite long ago. Your stew had grown cold, and your wheat bread was stale on the plate. You observed him seated with Cersei and two other lords and ladies across a few tables, all engaged in a discussion. Then, his eyes met yours — and you instantly fixed your gaze back on the table, your heart rate picking up at the thought of him catching you staring.

Jaime hasn’t spoken to you since. Not even when he had first arrived. Perhaps it was Cersei, always keeping him by her side. Or maybe things had taken a step too far and he didn’t wish to talk to you again. There was an awkwardness and you just couldn’t bring yourself to confront him about that day. It was tormenting you more than you liked.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

You heard a familiar, distinct Dornish accent behind you. A man with short dark curls adorned in his signature mustard robe now approached your table. A jug in one hand and two chalices in the other, he gently set both cups down, before filling them with mead from the jug. He took his place beside you.

Oberyn had grown to become a true friend in recent years. He was regulating the duties of his older brother and paid regular visits to your House as part of your established alliance. You valued his intelligence and strong-mindedness, although his sharp tongue and oversharing of hushed activities became an enjoyable nuisance too.

He sensed your lack of enthusiasm and odd behavior tonight. Mainly because you were now absent-mindedly stirring your stew with a fork, staring into the scars of the wooden table. He tried again, “Your father, I hear, he is not well?”

“No. He excused himself for the entire evening.”

That was all you said. Oberyn furrowed his eyebrows, and gently took the fork from your hand to set it aside. He reached for the far side of your cheek into his palm, forcing you to look at him properly.

“Tell me, why are you not rejoicing tonight?”

You refused to respond. Resigned, Oberyn took a glance around the room, until he noticed a particular stare sent his way that he could not ignore if he tried to. Then it all suddenly connected. A small smirk played at the corners of his lips.

“He is looking at us, you know.”

Your head turned before you could stop yourself, and you caught Jaime’s sharp glare. His posture appeared to have stiffened, and the way he gripped his cup was almost unusual. You immediately redirected yourself back to Oberyn and quickly brought his palm down from your cheek.

Oberyn chuckled, “Say, he has an odd manner of conveying expressions of love. And if it could not be any more obvious, so do you.”

“Or maybe he’s upset with you. What have you done?”

“Me? What have I done?” He placed his hand over his chest, feigning his hurt. “You are not being forward and honest with him. It has brought both of you distraught, and it’s not doing you any good if you aim to please him tonight.”

“Oberyn!” You exclaimed, scowling at his shit-eating grin. You hit his chest a little more forcefully than intended. His innuendo almost warmed your face to the touch.

You both toned down after a moment. You started to speak again, resting your face in your hands. “It’s no use, Oberyn. The duties of knighthood, the scorn of my father, and the wrath of his sister. We could not if we tried. And yet in spite of all that, I— I…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it out loud.

Not knowing how else to respond, he hummed in return. “We are all fools in love.”

A beat.

Suddenly, there’s a mischievous glint in his eye. He pried your hands away, making you turn towards him again. “I could employ my services tonight,” he closed the distance between the two of you, leveling himself right next to your ear until you could almost hear his breathing. From an outside view, it looked like he was whispering sweet nothings to you. “To help you relax.”

Oberyn always had a seductive nature, but you knew his advances were meant to be unserious and the teasing was non-committal when it came to you.

“Enough, Oberyn.” You both chuckled, pushing away from him.

You involuntarily turned back to the tables across yours, only to realize Jaime’s seat was empty. And suddenly, you realized that he was headed in your direction.

The merry dancing had now stopped. The tempo of the music in the background started to slow, instead inviting a more intimate and gentle form of dance to take place. And that gave Oberyn a particular invitation to spice up the night.

“I have an idea.”

You gave Oberyn a puzzled look. Without word nor warning, he took your hand and got up, pulling you in the direction where all the other partners were gathered. You whizzed past Jaime, but not before he stopped the both of you in your tracks.

He called your name. There was a softness in his tone, but it noticeably turned strained when he spoke again, “Prince Oberyn.”

It was the first time you saw him clad in a full suit of gold armor up close since you were so used to seeing him wear a plain tunic ever since you were young. If anything, it only polished the image of him in your head of how good he looked.

You looked him in the eyes, but he wasn’t looking back at you. His gaze had traveled to where your hand was tucked in Oberyn’s, and his jaw muscles visibly tensed. There was a glimpse of anguish in his eyes, but he eventually mustered the courage to look back at you.

“You must excuse us,” Oberyn interjected unconcernedly. “The music’s started.”

Jaime could do nothing but watch as the Dornishman tugged you away. You were now beyond confused at Oberyn, who gave you no response in return and only dragged you further. You turned your head to look back at Jaime and noticed his sullen expression, but soon he was out of your sight as people swarmed around you.

It was a blur of heads of numerous dance partners, but Jaime caught clear glimpses of you as he watched the scene unfold. Oberyn was standing close to you. Too close to you. He saw the way Oberyn embraced you longer than he should. The way he continued whispering things in your ear. The way he—

“You should tell her.”

Jaime looked away for a split second to find Tyrion beside him.

When he didn’t respond, Tyrion added, “If it comforts you, she likes you t—”

“Not tonight,” Jaime immediately replied. He could not be affirmed of this while the image of you and Oberyn lingered in his head and the possibility that you were with him instead. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Tyrion had never seen his brother this exasperated. He knew nothing of what would be of practical help, except one thing. “I suppose now is the time I prove to you that liquor can be quite a powerful remedy.”

Jaime looked at him questioningly, but agreed in silence.

Your hushed conversation quickly turned into an argument as you continually questioned the motives of your dance partner. You spun and he caught you in his arms.

“Why would you do that?” You hissed.

Oberyn only offered a smirk. “He needs a little motivation. Trust me. He will—”

“Oberyn, you’re only going to upset him.” You turned back to where Jaime once stood, but he was nowhere to be found. Your heart sank. “Look. He’s gone.”

Your irritation and displeasure towards Oberyn was now cemented, and you hastily parted from the dance. He followed after you, returning to your table where your spirits only dampened further as the night went on.

He wasn’t one to normally drown his sorrows, a habit he used to warn Tyrion for, but now he realized just how effective it was. He didn’t know how many bottles of wine he ended up downing. It doesn’t matter. Each time it replenished itself, the more his mind started to numb.

Although, he now seemed to have lost his sense of direction. Where was he again? There was a window where the moonlight shone through, but his vision was already blurred and he could barely make out anything. Had he been yelling? Did somebody call his name? He couldn’t be bothered to find out.

Suddenly, he tripped over his own footsteps and fell.

“Jaime!”

You rushed to reach where he was. It had been an hour since you last saw him. Your frustration had grown at his absence. You decided to retreat to your bedchambers for temporary relief, but stayed longer than you should have. It was not customary, but you were in desperate need of an escape. That was until you were disrupted by unpleasant shouts in the hallways, only to realize it was none other than Jaime.

“Come on,” You heaved his arm across your shoulder. He was half-conscious, and his heavy armor had you pulling at all the strength you could afford to lift him up.

Jaime had some idea of what was happening, and made his own, clumsy effort to help you carry him toward your bedchamber. You eventually shut the doors before turning to him, and caught his arms as he started to lose his balance again.

“Are you alright?” You asked, cupping his cheeks, gently turning his head on both sides to check for minor injuries and to examine the state of his drunkenness. “Stay here, I’ll—”

“Please,” he pleaded, pulling you into an embrace. He was practically pressing himself against you, struggling to hold himself up. The suddenness of contact sent electric shivers down your spine. His hands came to lazily hold onto your waist. He dropped his head into the nape of your neck, nuzzling his face into your soft skin. “Don’t go.”

You weakened at the hint of his desperation. Suddenly, he began to pepper feather-light kisses across your skin. It sent your whole body ablaze. Your knees threatened to buckle. His kisses grew firmer and worked their way upwards, traveling towards your jaw. Your free hands involuntarily tousled his hair as you began to feel light-headed.

But the moment he sought after your lips you instantly remembered yourself and where you were. You couldn’t. You gently placed a hand on his chest before the distance closed between the two of you.

“Jaime, you can’t,” you softly spoke, smiling weakly. “You’re drunk.”

You could see the way his lust-blown eyes turned into ones of despair. He said nothing. You struggled to regain the self-control to pull away from his embrace, but eventually looped his arm across your shoulder again to help him walk over to your bed. Finally, you set Jaime down to rest, unfastening his boots. He laid down completely, and after a brief moment, drifted off to sleep.

You left the room quietly. Your heart was still pounding furiously, and you leaned back against the doors, needing a moment to recollect your proper thoughts.

What had just happened?

The morning after eventually came. Jaime’s eyes fluttered open, immediately scorched by the burning of bright sun rays seeping into the open balcony. Until he suddenly realized that his armor was not intact. These weren’t his clothes. These weren’t his bedsheets. This was your room. He was lying in your bed. He tried to sit upright, but was greeted with a pounding headache.

“Don’t.”

He heard your voice just across the room. Your sweet voice.

“Just take it slow.”

His eyes were now opened fully, and he saw you approaching him, a cup delicately held in your hand.

You sat on the side of the bed. “I had the Maester brew this for you. It should help clear your mind.”

“Thank you,” he said softly. Jaime took the cup, brushing against your hand, and you felt it again. Heat surging through your veins. Even the smallest of contact had that same effect.

You watched as he drank its contents. He placed the empty cup on the nightstand, and a moment passed as you both took in each other’s appearance. The silence quickly grew awkward. You decided to speak.

“I spoke to Tyrion, shortly after you passed out last night. He told me he’d handle your absence of return — said you got wasted and walked into a brothel.”

“A brothel, really?” Jaime asked incredulously.

You only chuckled in response. Then suddenly, another thought came to him.

“Did we—?”

“No,” you replied, maybe a little too quickly. “Gods, no.”

You didn’t want to bring up that moment, if it counted as one. You still remembered the tantalizing kisses he had lain on you; the way it ignited sparks in your abdomen. You shuddered at the thought. Perhaps he’d just forget. This was all new to you after all — the subject was too uncomfortable for you to articulate. Fortunately for you, everything still seemed to be a blur for Jaime.

“Listen, about last night—”

Or not.

“If I had… imposed myself between you and…” He trailed off, restraining a tone of bitterness; entertaining the thought any longer than he could stand would make him regress back to a drunken fool.

You knitted your eyebrows, quickly realizing his misunderstanding. “Jaime, Oberyn is merely a friend. He can be… intense sometimes, but it was never done with the intention of courting.”

Oh.

He swallowed. A sense of relief flooded his heart. “Huh. I thought you rather fancied the men of Dorne,” he responded jokingly.

You chuckled, shaking your head in reply. In the spur of the moment, you reached out to gently comb through a few strands of his tousled hair.

“So I… didn’t overstep our boundaries?” Jaime continued, melting at the sensation of the way your fingers carded through his hair. His mind was going to fog if you kept this up any longer.

“Not at all.”

“So you liked it then,” he teased.

He knew you did. You just refused to admit it. You froze for a moment, having lost that small sense of courage as you retracted your hand. You sensed an overbearing smugness was finding its way back. “It seems like you’re back to being yourself again.” You started to stand. “I’ll have them bring your armor—”

He latched onto your wrist, pulling you back down as he suddenly crashed his lips against yours. A warm rush flooded through you, and your heart burst with adrenaline. It was intoxicating. His lips were warm and soft. Unable to suppress it any longer, you gave in and kissed him back. It instantly grew heated, and you pulled away to catch your breath.

You rested your forehead against his. “Jaime, we can’t. You have duties—”

He knew you were right. He felt your restraint. It was rightfully placed, but at the same time so stupid because it hindered you from what you both desperately wanted.

“I don’t care.”

And like a man starved, he chased after your lips again.

[badley]

jaime lannister was a 32 year old loser idiot when he met someone way too good and insanely wrong for him ❤️ NEVER lose hope

[lemonhemlock]

Rhaenyra v Cersei: Battle of the Bastards

Lo' and behold, looks like I'm not done with bastardposting after all. For this piece, I would like to compare and contrast the two main situations that the general public has been exposed as far as the issue of illegitimate children is concerned within the ASOIAF-verse: Rhaenyra v Cersei.

The parallels are obvious. Rhaenyra has three bastard children, Cersei has three bastard children. Let's see how they handle it.

Rules

According to Westerosi law, bastards can't inherit. It doesn't matter if they're the husband's or the wife's, the King's or the Queen's. Children born out of wedlock to any spouse are explicitly excluded from the line of succession.

Only the King can legitimise bastards via a royal decree. Enough of these "Roose legitimized Ramsay" lies. It's patently untrue. Tommen legitimized Ramsay.

In order to be legitimised, the children in question first have to be declared bastards. You cannot legitimize trueborn children. You cannot secretly legitimise bastards. "Viserys claimed Rhaenyra's children were trueborn, ergo he implicitly legitimised them." No, he didn't. He never admitted they were bastards.

Why does this matter? Because it is unclear where legitimised bastards fall in the line of succession. If they maintain their place by birth order or if they are relegated to the back of the line, behind any and all other trueborn claimants.

There are no genetic tests available in Westeros. People have to prove adultery or rely on common sense.

1. Cersei has a distinct advantage over Rhaenyra, since her children look like her. She can very easily argue that they favour her, as their mother, and this is exactly what everyone believes for years, including Robert. Since Jaime is the male version of Cersei, Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella can look like no else. Catelyn's kids look like Catelyn and no one bats an eye. Only Arya and (to Catelyn's irritation) Jon look like Ned. However, Ned doesn't ever doubt his children are not his.

Rhaenyra's kids look nothing like Rhaenyra and nothing like Laenor. They, instead, share distinct physical traits with her sworn shield, a man seen very often in her presence. People are not idiots. There is no plausible deniability here. You can bet your bottom dollar that if Cersei's kids were, say, Dornish-looking, people would be calling her out for her bullshit.

There is a way you can reasonably get away with passing over your bastards as someone else's, but that is 100% not Rhaenyra's way. This is why Cersei is chilling in the Red Keep, living her best bad bitch life, while Rhaenyra is running away to Dragonstone when the rumours are nipping at her heels. They are not the same. There are no paternity rumours to quell Cersei's girlboss vibes. She is sly enough that even Robert is convinced he inseminated her (gross).

2. I'm not going to get into the intricacies of Ned Stark's Scooby-Doo, Hercule Poirot mystery plot of unraveling Cersei's misdeeds. Ned has his own beef with the Lannisters and is convinced they are up to no good. He investigates them like the meddling kid he is and comes away with a suspicion. He knows nothing (heh) for certain until Cersei verbally confirms it for him. yOuR bRoThEr Or YoUr lOvEr. boo!

Had Ned not been on the Lannister trail from the very beginning, a fair assumption can be made that he never even would have suspected anything untoward. He never questions the children's paternity when they visit in Winterfell.

Again, this is distinctly different from Rhaenyra's situation. No one believes Cersei's children are bastards,* whereas no one believes Rhaenyra's children are trueborn. Pretending otherwise is very, very strange.

*at the beginning of AGOT, at least

3. Robert claimed Joffrey all his life and specifically named him his son and heir in his will, under dictation, to Ned. In turn, Ned deliberately changed Robert's words and wrote them down as "my rightful heir".

This is a parallel to show!Alicent, who misunderstands Viserys' dying words and him naming his son Aegon as heir. If Alicent didn't have the right to muddle the King's meaning, then neither did Ned. However, no one in their right minds is arguing that Ned is a traitor to the Crown. I wonder why is that?

I have already pointed out the circular logic in arguing that Robert only said that because he didn't know the children weren't his.

4. So what does this mean? Can anyone just accuse anyone they don't like of being a bastard and, thus, endanger that person's entire social status?

No, of course not. But, unfortunately for Cersei, Ned and Stannis aren't just some randos in a tavern. Ned is the Hand of the King. Stannis is Lord of Dragonstone and on the Small Council. These two men have a stalwart reputation and are renowned for their obsession with justice, duty and, in Ned's case, honour.

If Ned Stark stands in front of the Iron Throne and proclaims Joffrey a bastard, risks his daughters' lives and literally ends up losing his head as a result of this,

if Stannis Baratheon sends letters throughout the realm claiming Cersei's children are illegitimate,

the people of Westeros are going to pay attention.

These two very important men using their public platform to denounce Joffrey and starting wars over this? Say what you will about them, but they are not oathbreakers and they are not liars. No, they don't come with DNA tests, but for a lot of Westerosi, this is enough. They believe it.

Is this foolproof? No, of course not! But it convinces enough people that they are willing to band together to support rival claimants to the throne, thus igniting the War of the Five Kings. Speaking of political headaches, this is a huge one!

That being said, while Cersei is playing in the Champions League, Rhaenyra is fighting for her life in the relegation zone. She doesn't even need a Ned or a Stannis to cast doubt on her because no one believes her kids are not bastards.

Moreover, Vaemond obviously parallels Ned in this story. He tells the truth in open court and loses his head for it. In the show, Daemon and Viserys play the same role as Joffrey. In the texts, Rhaenyra and Daemon are stand-ins for Joffrey. This is not meant to be a triumphant moment of girlbossery. This is an abuse of power and an act of terror.

All in all, I'm sorry to say, but Cersei wins this hands down. She is savvy enough in her choice of sperm donor and can maintain plausible deniability without looking like a goddamn clown and the entire circus to boot. She holds the capital and has access to all the emblems of state after Robert dies. In contrast, Rhaenyra is floundering across the Blackwater Bay, yelling at the dragon gargoyles that her children are trueborn.

Why is this issue important in the story?

a). No one has a problem with Jace being King.

If people had a problem with Joffrey being King, enough to go to war over it, it would be narratively inconsistent for them to just accept an obvious bastard as King. It would contradict the internal logic of the fictional world we're talking about. That's quite some level of suspension of disbelief just because some fans like Jace. This isn't about him being amiable or a good kid.

b). They're still Rhaenyra's sons / it's a Targaryen internal matter and concerns no one else / the concept of Jace being King doesn't personally affect anyone else, so why does anyone care?

Because it's the freaking law! The name of the crime Rhaenyra commits is high treason! Punishable by exile or death!

No, the crime is not adultery, it's not having bastard children, it's specifically putting said bastard children in line to the throne. In that, Rhaenyra is as guilty as Cersei is.

It absolutely does affect others, since Rhaenyra actively steals the inheritance of House Velaryon for Luke. How is that not a crime? I would even go so far as to say that Laenor and Corlys are complicit in it and should be punished as well.

Contrary to bafflingly-popular erroneous beliefs, the monarch can't just do whatever they want. Even in absolutist monarchies, the sovereign serves the vital social role of upholding the law and the rights of their subjects. Rhaenyra breaks said law by committing theft, murder, high treason and destabilizing the entire system of inheritance.

c) Rhaenyra breaks the social contract

Jock Locke argues for the "right of revolution" in the Second Treatise of Government. He writes that when the government acts against the interests of its citizens, then said citizens gain the right to overthrow it and replace it with an authority that will protect their interests.

I am not trying to impose 'progressive' understandings of the political process anachronistically, in a medieval fantasy; my thesis-statement is that we have already seen this concept at play within the world of ASOIAF: the Faith Militant uprising against Aenys I and Maegor due to their practices of incest and polygamy and Robert's Rebellion, caused by Rhaegar kidnapping a noble lady and Aerys II carrying out executions without due process. The people of Westeros are not unfamiliar with opposing monarchs who don't abide by the law.

The question of Rhaenyra having bastards is framed in a lot of commentary through the lens of her right as a woman to have extra-marital sex and not be demonised for it and to find fulfilling love within the constraints imposed on her by her station. While debating the personal individual freedom of women in a patriarchal feudal society is not to be side-lined, her fundamental fault is that she is demanding rights and exemptions for herself, while the rest of the country have to abide by an entirely different set of rules.

The laws of inheritance, as unjust as they may appear to our modern eyes, are in place to prevent crises of succession, violent conflicts or even large-scale wars from starting every time someone's estates are passed on. Illegitimate children suddenly gaining access to inheritances threatens the political and economical calculations that predicate many Westerosi marriages.

Imagine paying a handsome dowry for your daughter, just so her husband's bastard birthed by some high-born mistress to make use of his maternal family's resources and cheat your legitimate grandchildren out of theirs.

Imagine being married to some lord and now his random bastards threaten the inheritance of your lawful children. Because, hey, the Queen acts like this is fine! This is Catelyn Stark's worst nightmare.

You think you can just sue your husband? What a silly notion. You think you can sue the bastard claimants after your husband is dead? Tough luck, your liege lord may rule in their favour by taking a leaf out of Queen Rhaenyra's book. You think you can appeal to Queen Rhaenyra? How are you going to travel all the way to King's Landing? Good luck with that, maybe you're built different and don't die during this dangerous and expensive journey.

Is this fair for the illegitimate children? Hell no, but Rhaenyra and Viserys are not planning on reforming family law in any meaningful way, because they know what a hassle it would be and how much opposition it would meet!

It reeks of rights for me, but not for thee and I, for the life of me, don't understand the stronghold she has on the liberated feminist brigade.

and finally

d). The Green Coup is not dependent on the legitimacy of Rhaenyra's children.

No. But her committing high treason earns her an automatic disqualification from her right to rule, rendering her claim null and void.

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

What will Jaime's reaction and development in response to the probable slaughter of Freys and Lannisters ("Red Wedding 2.0") by Lady Stoneheart, and the rebellion of the Riverlands that will likely follow, be? While there are a lot of valonqar theories and theories of how he might survive the encounter with Stoneheart, but for some reason I don't recall any theories on this front. Might there be a realization that his family's, and his, actions in the Riverlands from AGoT forward were wrong?

Generally people who theorize about Red Wedding: Back 2 Tha Hood have this elaborate fantasy about Jaime being tied up and forced to watch. Usually in conjunction with the theory that he's already half mad because he had to kill Brienne, who sacrificed herself for him. I think the latter theory is highly contrary to both plot and character, so I've been rather doubtful of the former theory as well. (As well as it being in Riverrun: no this is not an invite for proponents of that element of the theory to tell me about it, I've seen it all before and nothing but TWOW will move me.) Personally, I think RW2: First Blood could be one of those downbeat refusal-of-catharsis moments GRRM does sometimes, which includes no direct POV, just hearing about the atrocities after the fact. It may be otherwise, but I'm still sure fans will not be remotely as satisfied as they expect to be.

Anyway. Jaime already knows the actions of his family in the Riverlands were wrong. His whole arc from ASOS onwards just rubbed his nose into it over and over and over again. Notably including his encounter with the Bloody Mummers his father brought to Westeros, notably returning to Harrenhal and finding the house of horrors Gregor had turned it into, notably the whole siege of Riverrun where he's hating the Freys, hating every moment he has to reward idiots like his uncle Emmon or a "scheming turncloak bitch" like Sybell Spicer. Just look at his conversation with Hoster Blackwood in ADWD:

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

This is not a man who is happy with his life and his or his family's actions. Especially considering he took the very first opportunity to abandon it all to help Brienne with her quest.

Now, if you mean, will Red Wedding 2: The Revenge cause Jaime to admit out loud that he and his dad done bad? *pfft* Not a clue in the world. Jaime's going to have a lot going on in TWOW, not in the least however he and Brienne escape (my personal theories including divine Bran intervention; there's a reason why the Brotherhood's cave is full of weirwood roots and has a weirwood throne just like Bloodraven's), and not in the least whatever the hell Cersei gets up to in KL and her probable flight to the Rock. I'm afraid that prejudging Jaime's personality changes that may come from all this is beyond my power, sorry.

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@windriverdelta replied to your post “What will Jaime's reaction and development in...”:

Yeah, it was the "Now, if you mean, will Red Wedding 2: The Revenge cause Jaime to admit out loud that he and his dad done bad?" question - because for all what he knows and thinks, he's still doing these bad things.

​aha, so you're asking more like, will he stop. And like I said, Jaime's going to be very busy, I think his Riverlands enforcement tour will be well past done by the time he gets out of it all. Mind you, I don't think he's going to ever give up entirely on the Lannister state of mind (Tywin's ability to give people complexes is very hard to shake). But a lot of the Riverlands tour was guilt over being responsible for his father's death (since Jaime freed Tyrion and gave him a reason to kill Tywin), which undoubtely made him extra-Lannistery for a while. And also Jaime was trying to get away and deal with his Cersei issues (by using Ilyn as a rubber duck therapist who beats you up), so a lot of his um, complex actions greatly depend on what Cersei ends up doing and how that makes him feel. (Even if they've "broken up", they'll always be connected.) And however the valonqar plays out, alas...

[bellarkeselection]

okay jaime request 🫶 so jaime just lost his hand and he worries that the fem!reader (jaime's wife maybe? 👀) will be disgusted by that but she actually showers him in love and affection as she's happy that he came back to her? like a lot of kisses and cuddling and fluff

i'm so in love like look at him?! he's precious <33

Slight mature content in this one 18+ 😏 I honestly really enjoyed writing this one more than I have any other request for Jaime so thank you for sending this in

You're Still a Golden Knight to Me

Staring out the windows of Casterly Rock with my arms wrapped tightly around my waist out of nervousness. I hated the feeling and time of waiting for Jaime to return home from the battle between the Lannister’s and my family the Stark’s. Jaime and I were married a few months ago before the king officially rode North to ask my father to be hand of the king. We were wed in Kings Landing by King Robert himself before he died. And somehow in those short few months we became so close it felt like we had been married for as long as my sister Catelyn and Ned had been. "Oh gods please let him come home already I cannot endure anymore time terrified he might be dead." I mumbled to myself out into the quiet sea fresh air in the room until the chamber door made a noise causing me to jump slightly.

Stumbling around the bed as quiet yet quickly as possible I reached down by as much as my growing belly would allow me to so that I could grab the sword my father gave me out from underneath my bed. Ever since Jaime left I had basically been sleeping with the weapon at my bedside even though I had a whole castle army to defend me in the walls of Casterly Rock. Moving towards the door I raised the sword over my shoulder with both hands clutching the handle of the sword seeing the chamber door creak opened very slowly. "Show yourself you twat. I'm ready and armed!" I raised my voice outward holding back tears knowing it was better to show no fear.

Yet my entire conscious state was completely rattled when I heard someone call my name that was impossible for me to not recognize in a heartbeat. "Y/n...Y/n....Jaime...please don't....it's me...it's Jaime."

"J...Jaime. Is it...is it really you?" I croaked through heavy tears struggling to keep my grip on the blade handle on the off chance it wasn't and the gods were just playing tricks on my mind. Yet sure enough the door creaked open all the way revealing a sight that nearly broke me in two and shattered my heart.

My gaze focused on his figure when he slowly stepped out of the darkness of the door and into the light being provided by burning candles. He didn’t meet my gaze while I scanned over my husband’s face. His blonde hair was covered in mud and his clothes were torn and stained too. Yet that wasn’t what nearly broke me it was the fact that his right hand was covered in some bandages but it was really just a stump of where the hand used to be. “Don’t look at me, Y/n. You should go back North.”

“I’m not going back North you idiot. Do you honestly think I would leave you while you look like this. When I have been terrified that you might not come back and now you have…come on let’s get you cleaned and changed.” Moving towards him I sniffed through tears before I turned and rummaged around in one of the crates drawing out one of his tunics and trousers.

Slowly and gently as possible I helped Jaime inside the wash room knowing that none of the servants would be up in the middle of the night so I left it to me alone to take care of my husband. Running my hands down his tunic shirt I tugged on it hearing him wince since some of it was sticking to him. Untying the strings of his trousers they fell to the floor. “You don’t have to help me I….I can’t get this cleaned on my own.” He attempted to remain the confident man I knew but he dropped his right stump hand showing me that he couldn’t.

He managed to get into the water on his own giving me the time to untie the laces on the back of my golden dress letting the fabric pool to the floor without a care. Kicking it away I put Jaime’s new clothes beside mine since I had started to wear his tunics when I went to bed. “I’m your wife, Jaime. I know you don’t want help but please let me help you now.” I mumbled quietly seeing his stump hand was still wrapped up like a rag. He didn't respond so I slowly moved the material from his arm sitting it on the side seeing that it had healed a little bit when I ran my fingers over it.

“I’m not who I used to be without my hand…I was that hand. What am I supposed to do now, Y/n?” He shutters, staring at me as I attempted to retie a cleaner cloth on his stump. “If I pass out pull me out. I don’t want to be the first Lannister to die in a bathtub.”

Lifting my gaze up from me working on his injured hand where I placed my hands on his bare chest he winced when I started running some water over the wounds on his chest. “Jaime, I know you’re avoiding ye conversation but who did this. Did my brother Robb take your hand?”

“He kept me prisoner in his camp but it wasn’t him. It was this man named Locke..who hates high born. He took it to show me I was as safe as I thought I was. And now because of him I’m not the man I was. You’ll probably leave me in the morning because of this disgusting thing.” He glared down at the stump of his right hand while I moved my fingers through his hair getting the dirt out of it where it returns to its almost normal golden lion color.

Resting my hands on his shoulders I pressed my forehead making him finally look me in the eye. His green eyes were filled with tears and I could hear the shakiness in his breath. “Jaime, don’t put those thoughts in your head. I am not going anywhere. I would never leave you ever. Because I love you…and the little one will too.” Placing his left hand on my stomach I sucked in a breath hoping he would pick it up on what I was saying.

“You’re pregnant…when did you know?” He knitted his brows together questioning me and for the first time since we had reunited I saw a tiny genuine smile on his face.

Leaning forward I kissed him on his forehead brushing away some of the fallen strands of wet blonde hair that had fallen in from of his eyes. He closed his eyes briefly when I spoke and moved his head to lay against my bare front running one hand through his hair making it a slight mess. “According to the Maester I should be about three months along. I started having morning sickness the morning after you left to go fight the war with my twin brother.”

“Do you think I’ll be a good father and husband without my sword fighting hand. I want to be the man you deserve..considering we were arranged to and all. At times I didn’t the wound be anything like your mother and father.” Jaime lifted his head up slightly where I held his face in my hands seeing slight fear and concern in his eyes that he wasn’t worthy of me now.

Without saying another word I gently crashed my lips down onto his tilting his head up slightly when I climbed up into his lap. He pressed his bare back against the tub wall wrapping his arms around my waist tugging my flesh against his own. “Jaime Lannister, you are the best husband I could ask for. I didn’t fall for you because of how good you were with a sword or how attractive you are, although you are still as handsome as the night of our wedding. But you are still that golden knight to me. I love you.”

“When I was sitting in that shit cell for months I would drift off to sleep and think of you. Think of us laying in bed together after we made love. Or when you insisted I teach you how to swing a sword. You’re smiling face…your witty remarks…your smell and when you touch me…everything about you.” He buried his face into the crook of my neck placing kisses there until he found a certain spot hearing me moan and throw my head back giving him more access.

Moving my hands to his shoulder blades I gripped them in my finger nails craving for his touch and everything in between. “Jaime I…I need you. I have been miserable for months.” I whined into his ear feeling him shift so he could start to make love to me.

“I won’t deny you, my wolf wife. But not in here. Cause once I get you in our bed we won’t be leaving for awhile.” He responds in a raspy voice shifting his green eyes onto mine intensely where I could feel his desire for me. We quickly stumbled out of the bath and into our chamber forgetting about the fresh clothes we had too focused on our need to be in the others arms.

Climbing onto the bed throwing my hair around I smiled up at him when he crawled over me crashing his lips onto mine hungrily while he put our bodies together. Gripping his golden locks in between my fingers I felt my heart beating against my chest with him moving against me like this again after so long. “Jaime….I love you.” I croaked out when he broke the kiss with his hair falling in front of his eyes and his gaze dropped to the stump once more.

“Hey, eyes on me.” Raising one of my hands I grabbed his chin forcing him to look me in the eye. Leaning upward I pressed soft kisses against his mouth moving my other hand through his hair. “You still mean everything to me. All that I care about is that you are here with me and that you’re safe.”

The eldest Lannister lion pressed his forehead against mine before he began moving our bodies against each other very slowly again as if he was afraid I might disappear from him any moment. “I just don’t want to be less of a man to you. You are my sweet wolf wife…and I’ll do my best to be a good father to our little lion or lioness.”

“I know you will, Jaime. You will always be the same man I fell in love with from this day until the end of our days.” I whispered my next words into his ear since he had his head laying on my chest. My fingers were gripping his back while I struggle to not let the entire castle know what we were doing in the middle of the night. “I am yours and you are mine.”

The bed was moving against our actions where he kept hitting the specific spot that we both moaned afterwards to. He broke the kiss where I held his face in my hands tracing his cheek with him thrusting into me slowly. “Y/n, I love you so much!” He moaned when I pulled his head downward burying my face in his neck nuzzling my nose and kissing into his skin.

Finally we both reach our high and Jaime collapsed onto his back on his side of the bed smiling longingly at me. I was laying on my back still trying to catch my breath while my hair was a tousled mess but I never dropped the huge grin on my face. “You were right about it being so much better after the first time…or it could also be the fact that I missed you like hell. Please don’t ever leave me again Jaime.” Rolling over onto my side I placed one hand on his the stump of his right hand giving him a small tearful smile.

“I don’t intend of going anywhere, little wolf. You and this baby are my home from now on.” Jaime scooted closer to me where I shifted so that his body was laying on top of mine. Running my fingers through his golden hair I planted some kisses onto his head and bare shoulder that I could reach feeling all the nervous weight fade away.

He wrapped his arms around my waist hugging me tightly against his strong form nuzzling his nose against my stomach listening for a heartbeat and he smiled when he felt something kick against his head. “I guess our little lion enjoys their daddy being home too.” I chuckled feeling the vibrating against my belly making me smile.

“If we spend our nights like this again we might end with as many children as you’re family has. If you’re up for it someday Y/n Lannister.” Jaime raises his head slightly with that cheeky smirk on his face showing me he was getting back to being his old self. He kisses my belly then he deeply kisses me on the lips laying his head back down on my stomach trying to get some much needed sleep.

Resting my head back against the pillows I intertwined one of my hands with Jaime’s left closing my eyes after watching him fall peacefully asleep on top of me. “I will never say no to you my golden lion.” I mumbled before I shut my eyes finally getting a restful night of sleep being able to hold him in my arms.

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