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jayseadugard · 1 year

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YOU! How come you can see Jamie Lannister as a complex character, but you can’t see the same for Sansa? Jamie literally tried to murder a child and was almost successful. Sansa did act like a “brat” for the first book but she grew up. Not only has she grown up she hasn’t try to murder innocent children. I would say that’s Jamie is also one of my favorite characters but you need to give Sansa a chance. I understand not liking her in show, as they ruined her character in the later four seasons. It’s only fair Sansa be seen as complex character, not just one way or the other.

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shrewdgoldfish · 1 year

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Well, I've officially got five non-bot followers on this blog, which is a miracle in and of itself these days on Tumblr. As promised, here's a sneak peek at Chapter 6! It's currently sitting at around 5,000 words and counting. I'm super excited to get it up on ao3-- it should be out sometime this week!

I also have a spin-off in the works, but it's ahead of What's Left Over and would spoil quite a few major plot details. I'm steaming through it, though, and I can't wait until I can finally share it. I'll give you a hint: there's going to be lots and lots of flowery dialogue.

CWs, both for what's under the cut and the fic as a whole:

BDSM, abusive relationships, emotional manipulation, abuse of power

Generally, it's a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat situation.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Read the chapters that have come out so far over on my ao3!

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dragynkeep · 11 months

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/2278257 Gotcha fam

god this was so delicious. like the dynamic between sansa & cersei is so fucked up & the way it ends has me foaming at the mouth!!

#asoiaf #sansa stark #cersei lannister #sansei #sansa x cersei #cersei x sansa #ais.txt #answered #q

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ziskandra · 2 years

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Fic: two in the bush

Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire

Relationship: Cersei Lannister/Sansa Stark

Summary: They can’t have Sansa, at least not until Cersei’s done with her. Not until she’s imparted everything she knows.

Rating: E

Words: 1490

Excerpt:

Cersei scoffs, but it wasn’t like she expected the girl to have a better excuse prepared. “You know that’s not the reason I’ve kept you here.” She pauses for a moment, eyes flickering towards the hallway behind where Sansa stands. “Close the door, and come here.”

Wordlessly, Sansa complies, shutting them off from the outside world and making her way towards Cersei. Once there, she hovers awkwardly, as though awaiting further instruction.

“Sit,” instructs Cersei, indicating the space beside her.

There’s a moment of hesitation where Cersei suspects Sansa might finally show some backbone, but then she perches delicately on the edge of the chaise, every bit the perfect innocent dove she pretends to be. She licks her parched lips as though she’s debating against speaking, but eventually yields. “The War of the Five Kings rages on, Your Grace.”

Despite herself, Cersei gives the girl an approving smile. Perhaps she’s not entirely stupid as she looks. “Indeed,” she says, placing a hand on Sansa’s knee, “so why not remain here where it is safe? Where I have given you everything you could possibly want?”

Sansa stares at Cersei’s hand as though it is the final piece of a puzzle that doesn’t quite fit. There’s another contemplative pause, the air so thick between them Cersei can almost taste it. For the first time, Sansa meets Cersei’s gaze when she answers. “Everything except my father.”

The sound of skin on skin echoes in the room before Cersei had even thought to move. Sansa clutches at her cheek as she sinks into the chaise, stunned.

Read the rest on AO3!

#a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #cersei x sansa #sansa x cersei #cersei lannister #sansa stark #mind the tags!!#asha fic

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annaofaza · 1 year

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anyone have this fic?

Looking for a Sansa/Cersei fic--it seems to have been deleted, but maybe someone's downloaded it/knows where else it is? It was "Lion of Lannister" by outlier on a03.

#game of thrones #cersei x sansa #sansa x cersei #fic request #i've found it on wayback machine but i can't get past the 'click to see adult content' window

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shutupcrime · 10 months

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Show Jaime:

“I know I just slept with Brienne who I have a deep attachment to, and I’m about six seasons deep into a redemption arch but Ima peace out and get crushed by rocks with my sister wife”

Book Jaime literally in the middle of reading a letter from Cersei begging him to come and save her:

“I wonder what brienne is doing right now”

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bibiundtinaundzombies · 2 months

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au in which robert, the starks and the lannisters play monopoly instead of going hunting and pushing each other‘s kids from towers.

tyrion implements a tax system to make things more interesting and fights cersei over the cat for a solid ten minutes.

around thirty minutes into the game, catelyn realizes that she has free will and stops paying taxes.

arya and sansa haggle over new york avenue, which ends up being bought by theon. this causes the two to completely cast aside their differences, ally and subsequently start doing everything in their power to make theon‘s life hell.

theon himself is quite severely stoned the entire time throughout.

ned enters horrendous debt pretty much immediately and, after two hours of being financially sucked dry by both cersei and his tax evader of a wife, decides to just place his figurine in jail and never leave.

jon, playing the dog, controls the railroads and makes jaime, playing the ship, go completely broke within minutes. being beaten by a bastard and officially the first to lose the game makes jaime so mad he spends the rest of the evening perched on the family‘s ancestral armchair eating flaming hot cheetos and stifling sobs.

cersei is holding onto her last two dollars and her one house in atlantic avenue like a maniac and evades taxes like it‘s an olympic sport. she claims ownership of kentucky avenue on the grounds that red is her house‘s color at least twice. after three hours, she‘s consumed enough vintage red to kill a large mammal and keeps quoting the art of war. fascinatingly enough, she never goes completely broke.

robert, just as broke and drunk as his wife but not nearly as ferocious, proposes marriage for tax advantages to bran, who is in possession of the boardwalk and lets him dangle on his proposition for two rounds before accepting and feeling like a benevolent god.

sansa sees this and immediately proposes to arya, who accepts, only for them to be sued by their mother for public indecency („you‘re siblings, jesus christ!“). arya argues that this is just a game and that one could argue that robert‘s and bran‘s marital alliance is just as if not even more inappropriate, considering that bran is seven and robert thirtyseven. sansa countersues her mother for tax evasion, who promises she‘ll drop her lawsuit if her daughters let her keep hoarding perverse amounts of wealth. „love wins!“ arya says, which causes jaime, still perched on the armchair but now eating old nan‘s home made whiskey truffles, to hysterically sob. cersei stares him down.

robb, in a rare moment of almost prophetic foresight, excuses himself one hour in and goes on a very, VERY long walk with grey wind.

tyrion, whose tax system has spectacularly backfired in his face, proposes marriage to catelyn, jon and cersei in rapid succession, who all turn him down. „i wish i was the monster you think i am. i wish i had enough poison for the whole pack of you. i would gladly give my life to watch you all swallow it.“ he screams before he leaves the table.

at that, joffrey, who has refused to participate and instead sits on the couch playing doom on his nintendo ds, starts hysterically laughing. tyrion turns on his heel and awards his nephew with the bitchslap of the century. this causes cersei to completely abandon the game and chase after him with a broom. catelyn makes sure that everyone is distracted by the lannister antics and then reaches across the table and bags cersei‘s money and properties.

with a heavy heart, myrcella trades arya and sansa one of her limited edition bayala schleich unicorns for park place.

at this point, the game is between the tycoons that are catelyn and jon, the bran-robert alliance, the arya-sansa-alliance, and ned, who is still in jail and watching ice hockey on his phone under the table. that is when catelyn hears rickon gagging and discovers that he, in the absence of tyrion, the self declared bank manager, has managed to eat all bank notes from the box.

rickon gets his stomach pumped, cersei and tyrion have both been arrested, theon is still stoned, arya, sansa and myrcella have wandered off to go play schleich horses, and jon remains at the table, alone, content, and quietly considering himself the winner.

#asoiaf #asoiaf au #asoiaf modern au #eddard stark #catelyn stark #ned x catelyn #cersei lannister #jaime lannister #tyrion lannister #robert baratheon #robb stark #jon snow #bran stark #arya stark #sansa stark #rickon stark #joffrey baratheon #myrcella baratheon #sorry for the tommen erasure :(

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claymoresword · 9 months

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Wild Nights

Margaery Tyrell x Baratheon Fem!Reader

Summary: Margaery Tyrell has a long term secret affair with the King's oldest sister.

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, transmasc coded reader, alpha/beta/omega dynamics if you squint, breeding kink, cheating, penetrative sex, blow job, porn absolutely no plot

Note: ok this is totally self indulgent and literally no one asked for it but i've had the idea floating around in my mind since i finished GOT literally 9 months ago but i finally found the motivation to sit down and write so here it is...

not sure if anyone is gonna even click on this tbh but if you're here hi! enjoy!

Just as you are about to drift off into a slumber, you're jolted awake at the sound of knocking on your door.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you glanced at the window, it was still pitch black out, as you were well into the hour of the owl.

For a moment you wonder if you had imagined the noise, but when you hear the same knocking again, you climb out of bed.

"Who goes there?" You asked as you approached the door but you received no response.

Curiosity gets the better of you, with a firm hand on the knob you pull the door open slightly, your expression immediately relaxes once you realize who it was standing on the other side.

"Hello, y/n" Your sister in law greets you.

The Queen stood with her arms wrapped around herself, her robe clearly not providing her adequate warmth as she shudders.

The fireplace alight in your chambers being the only reason you aren't affected by the piercing chill of the night.

You find yourself taking in Margaery's appearance; only in her nightgown and robe, her hair loose and unkept. You study the charming curve of her lips as she gazes at you. Even in the dead of the night, she remains breathtaking.

"Your Grace, is everything alright?" You ask with real concern, the expression the other woman gives you in return is sheepish.

"I could not find sleep." Margaery admits and your stare turns incredulous, but you remain unmoving.

"May I come in?" She asks after a beat and you remain silent but you finally pull your door open wider, allowing her to enter.

As soon as you shut the door, Margaery is on you.

She kisses you, heavy and desperate, her body flush against yours. It shocks your entire system, however, the feeling quickly morphs into a wave of arousal as her tongue enters your mouth.

You feel your cock beginning to harden in your breeches as you rest your hand on the small of her back before moving it to grip her waist.

"Wait–" You say breaking the kiss, Margaery makes no attempt to hide her fervor; she chases your lips, before halting to meet your gaze.

"Shouldn't you be in bed with your husband?" You taunt, although already knowing the response.

Since they've gotten married Margaery has shown no true interest in Tommen. It was you she wanted from the start, you she would have chosen to wed if the matter of union was up to her.

The glint in Margaery's eye as she prepares to answer only works to excite you further.

"I don't want my husband." She responds, capturing your lips for another searing kiss, this time you chase her lips as she pulls away.

"He is clumsy and inadequate." Margaery quips, kissing you again. She leans back slightly to playfully tug on your bottom lip with her teeth.

Once again you feel blood rushing directly to your groin, your cock now throbbing as your breath shallows.

Margaery notices immediately as the hardened bulge remains pressed up against her thigh. A shiver runs through you as you watch her smirk grow.

"Whereas, you always know where to put your hands.." She explains, tilting her head to plant a lingering kiss on your jaw before moving to your neck.

You feel her hot breath against your skin as she reaches down to boldly palm you over your breeches.

"You know exactly where to kiss me." Margaery whispers before placing an open mouthed kiss on your neck, you have to fight the urge to grind your member into her hand.

"You know how to make me feel good." The Queen adds, her mouth now lingering over your ear, she plants a wet kiss against it and she moves her hand so she may begin unlacing your breeches.

"Fuck–" You say, already so unbelievably aroused, your cock straining almost painfully.

You reach down to assist her, hastily undoing the laces before pulling down your breeches.

Margaery merely chuckles darkly at your impatience.

You pull down your pants, finally revealing your cock, hard to the touch and already dripping with your seed.

Margaery's eyes remain on the length in between your legs, her expression betrays a raw and primal hunger.

You grab a handful of her hair, pulling her close for a sloppy kiss, one she reciprocates eagerly, you don't pull away until you are both panting.

"Get on your knees, sweet girl. I want to feel your pretty mouth around my cock." You order with a firm hand still gripping a handful of Margaery's hair.

The Queen obeys with no protest, you watched as she kneeled before you.

Margaery swipes her thumb across the head, lubricating it with your own release. She then wraps her fingers around your girth, stroking it with purpose and dexterity.

Her hand felt good, but it was not enough.

With your hand still firmly on the back of her head, you guide her face closer, desperate to feel her mouth.

Margaery decides to give you what you need, she runs her tongue down your length before finally wrapping her mouth around the tip. She takes in a deep breath, lowering herself, soon she has all of you in her mouth, her tongue flat against your cock as she sucks.

"Fuck– You mouth feels amazing." You praise through pants, and Margaery lets out a moan in response.

Her mouth continues to work towards your pleasure, she lowers her head further, you let out a groan as the tip of your cock comes into contact with the back of her throat.

"I'm close–" You say, and Margaery continues her steady pace, sucking your cock like her life depended on it.

You shut your eyes as you rest your head against the door. Soon you are unable to focus on anything beyond the feeling of Margaery's talented mouth as she brings you to your release.

You empty yourself in her mouth, the Queen makes no effort to pull away, placing a firm hand on your rear to hold you close as she swallows every drop.

You release your grip on her hair and the other woman finally pulls away, your member falls out of her mouth as she does.

You swiftly bend down, crashing your lips against Margaery's as she rises, your tongue enters her mouth shamelessly and without reserve, tasting your own release.

In just a few moments you feel your cock return to its hardened state once again.

You pull Margaery closer, until her body is flush against your own, you wish to ravage her, worship her, wreck her, just to put her back together again.

"My turn." You breathe out against her lips, swiftly pulling her robe off her body.

You kick away your own breeches that were pooled by your feet before lifting your nightshirt over your head.

You attempt to do the same with Margaery's nightgown but she stops you with a hand on your wrist.

"Is something the matter?" You ask, even though Margaery's face indicates nothing of the sort.

"No, nothing is wrong. I just wish to go slowly, if you don't mind." The other woman says, biting her lip.

"Ofcourse, anything you want." You reassure, and Margaery grins.

"Good." She says, getting on her tiptoes to kiss you again, she begins leading you to the bed.

The back of your knees hit the bedframe and Margaery nudges you by the chest slightly, gesturing for you to take a seat.

You watched intently as she kicked off her footwear before moving her hands to the laces of her nightgown.

However, her movements are tantalizingly slow, and you are only growing increasingly mad with need.

Your mouth remains agape as you observe her and Margaery has to purse her lips, stifling her amusement.

Then it finally occurs to you; Margaery doesn't want to go slowly for her own benefit, she only aims to torture you.

"My love.." You plead.

The other woman merely smiles, feigned innocence.

"Hm?" Margaery says as she finally grabs the hem of her nightgown, but she's still not moving fast enough.

Your cock remained unbearably hard, standing at attention.

You take it upon yourself to start stroking your length, in an attempt to take advantage of the sight before you and douse the burning heat at the pit of your stomach.

Margaery is finally naked, she soon steps closer, lifting your chin before capturing your lips with hers. She then reaches down to grab your hand, pulling it away so you would stop pleasuring yourself.

Before you get a chance to protest, the other woman finally climbs onto the bed, situating her legs on either side of your lap, languidly straddling you. Your mouth continues moving against hers with intensity and desperation.

Margaery's hands remain on your shoulders as she steadies herself, and you prepare yourself, but much to your dismay, the Queen makes no effort to make you enter her.

As her lips leave yours, your expression is almost pained but Margaery only seems to thrive off it.

"Do you want me?" She asks, grinding her heat against the length of your cock, coating it with her arousal.

"I do– please." Your voice trembles with need, as you grip her waist firmly attempting to guide her, but the other woman does not budge.

The tip of your cock is now prodding her entrance, you can feel just how wet she is, but Margaery's composure doesn't falter.

You decide to take a different approach.

"I want to feel your tight cunt wrapped around me. I want to stretch you out until you're all sore, until you have trouble walking and sitting down on the morrow." You say, and it works to break her resolve.

Margaery's gaze visibly darkens as she grips the base of your length, holding it place as she lowers herself onto you.

You both throw your head back at the initial sensation, Margaery lets out an unrestrained moan and you respond with a groan.

Her cunt felt so warm and wet, it made you see stars. As she begins to move her hips, the Queen moans again, loud and unapologetic.

You were certain in the quiet of the night, the entire Red Keep would be privy to her blatant calls of pleasure, but neither of you cared.

Margaery's fingers threaded through your hair before she roughly grabbed a handful of it. You wince at the sensation, but the pain quickly dissappears within the immense pleasure you feel as Margaery picks up the pace.

The Queen's gasps are broken and incoherent, the feeling of your cock repeatedly hitting the right spots within her, stretching her out in the best way, makes it impossible for her to catch her breath.

You lean forward to swipe your tongue across one of her nipples before wrapping your lips around it as you begin sucking.

Margaery lets out a wretched whine at the feeling, she moves her hips harder as you turn your attention to her other breast.

"Does my cock feel good, my love?" You ask, a firm hand against her jaw so she's forced to look at you.

"Yes– so good– You always make me feel so good." Margaery admits in between pants before throwing her head back once again.

You can tell her release is approaching as her movements grow inconsistent, her walls clenched tightly around your girth.

Soon Margaery comes undone on your cock, her moans reverberating through your chambers as the orgasm rips through her.

She goes slack on top of you from the sheer force of it, resting her head on your shoulder as she attempts to catch her breath.

"Seven Hells." Margaery says, you feel her breath against your neck as she does.

The Queen is still trembling when you decide to flip your positions, the other woman lets out a gasp as you expertly lift her up before carefully laying her down onto the mattress.

You don't allow Margaery time to question it before you begin your thrusts, your cock still hard, hitting a spot deep within her.

"Oh, Gods– y/n" She moans, her hands find your back, her nails continue digging into your skin as you moved your hips, hard and fast.

With every gasp and moan from Margaery, you retaliate with grunts and groans. Her cunt feels so tight and wet around you, every thrust pushes you closer to your release.

You lean down to kiss the other woman and she kisses you back, open mouthed and messy.

You then tilt your head to do the same to her neck. You sink your teeth into her skin, leaving an ugly bruise just above her pulse point.

Margaery lets out a low groan at the sensation, pulling you closer by the back of your neck.

As the coil in your stomach tightens, you forcibly hold yourself up by your forearms, slowing down your thrusts in the process but keeping them just as deep.

"Shall I release my seed inside of you, sweet girl?" You ask, planting a chaste kiss against Margaery's cheek.

"Make you fat with my child again, would you like that?" You add, your fingers sinking into the flesh of her hip as she keeps her legs firmly wrapped around your waist.

Margaery nods, eager and ready, her own orgasm slowly creeping up on her.

"Yes– please– y/n, fill me with your seed. I wish to bear a dozen of your children, only yours." The Queen says, and it pushes you over the edge.

The coil finally snaps, and you release your seed deep inside Margaery's wanting cunt. At the same time, you feel her walls tighten around you as she lets out a loud moan, the Queen climaxed for the second time that night.

You collapse on top of her, unable to support your own weight any longer. Your bodies now slick with sweat, both of your chests heaving as you ride out your peak.

Margaery gently threads her fingers through your hair as you attempt to regain your strength.

"I love you." The Queen admits earnestly, just above a whisper, and your heart pounds and constricts with adoration for the other woman.

"I love you more." You respond, lifting your head to look at her.

#margaery tyrell #margaery tyrell x reader #g!p #g!p reader #baratheon reader #tommen baratheon #cersei lannister #sansaery #sansa stark

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floatyflowers · 1 year

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Dark Platonic Mothers! HOTD/GOT (Cersei, Alicent, Sansa, and Rhaenyra) x Reader

Cersei Lannister

"You never love anything in the world the way you love your first child"

You are Cersei's first and only trueborn child with Robert.

Even though, your mother hates your father, doesn't mean you are hated, it is quiet the opposite.

Cersei would sacrifice everything to ensure that you stay by her side.

She would fight off any possible arranged marriages that Robert might have in mind for you.

Marrying you to Robb Stark? Cersei will make sure that Robert has horrible nights, until he removes this idea from his mind.

Joffrey doesn't dare to harm you in any way, because he knows what his mother would do to him if he touches a hair on your head.

After your younger siblings' deaths, Cersei becomes filled with paranoia that she might outlive you too.

She will make sure that you are kept safe even if it means stripping you away from your freedom.

Alicent Hightower

You are her favorite child without a doubt.

Maybe it is because you are not as drunk and perverted as Aegon or as vengeful and dangerous as Aemond or as dreamy and strange as Helaena.

Of course, there is also Daeron but he is in Oldtown, so he is not around as much for Alicent to favor him.

As a baby, you never caused tantrums when she came to spend time with you.

You consider her your friend, and tell her all your secrets.

Even that secret where you had a crush on a stable boy.

Strange how the boy disappeared the next day with a trance.

When Otto suggested the idea of marrying you off to Tyland Lannister, Alicent turned the idea down.

She would never give up your happiness, she would kill for your sake.

Sansa Stark

You are hers and Ramsay's daughter.

But you were given her last name, as Sansa didn't want you to be connected to the Boltons.

She thought she would hate you, but when she held you in her arms for the first time, she couldn't help but love you.

Like a little pup, you started following your mother around ever since you learned how to walk.

Sansa prefers it that way, you and her spending time together.

You filled the hole in her heart after her mother's death, she wants to have the same mother-daughter relationship with you as she had with her mother.

Everything was going on well, until Arya decided to visit Winterfall.

The moment your Aunt started speaking about her travels is the moment you realize you want to explore the outside world.

Sansa made sure that her younger sister is not welcome to speak to you again, especially after she accused her of locking you away like some bird.

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Your mother turned into a completely different person after the death of your younger brother, Luke.

She announced the annulment of your marriage to Aemond, even though it was already consummated.

She has forbidden you from returning to King's Landing to get your daughter, claiming it was too dangerous for you, and that your daughter is better off with her father.

Rhaenyra can't bear to lose you just like how she lost Luke or Visenya.

When you try to escape, you are caught and your dragon is taken away from you, given sleeping herbs to put the beast to sleep.

When you called her a hypocrite for wanting to protect you as a mother, but at the same time, forbidding you from seeing your own daughter.

Rhaenyra would only hug you tightly and forcibly by grabbing into your head.

"You have to sacrifice for me, just like I sacrificed for you and your siblings"

This is when you realize that your mother truly deserves to be compared to Maegor the Cruel.

#tw: toxic relationships #yandere house of the dragon #platonic yandere #daughter reader #alicent x reader #rhaenyra x reader #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #sansa stark #cersei lannister

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witchthewriter · 1 year

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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐚'𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫, 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: mentions of PTSD, triggers, violence, blood, death and swearing

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

🌿ISTP 🍁Slytherin or Hufflepuff - can be debated. 📜Chaotic Neutral 🔮Aries Sun, Taurus Moon, Scorpio Rising

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

Nad Dunaem by DakhaBrakha

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

One Showing Kindness (You) x The Other Choosing To Become Kinder, As Redemption (Sandor)

Snarky Power Couple That Can, And Probably Will, Destroy You

“Shut Up” x “Make Me”

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔

Acts of Service. Likes to do things for you - making sure you’re fed and hydrated. Cuts up logs for the fire, and makes sure it’s always burning.

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・Sansa specifically asked for the both of you to join her council right after her coronation

・Technically lowborn, your family had been loyal to House Stark for generations

・And when ... well when it all went to shit, you were forced to flee.

・For years you didn’t know what became of your family. But you did hold onto the knowledge that was passed down from generation to generation

・Not just about the physical world, but the spiritual, and the natural.

・Your family was initially so close to the Starks’ because of your usefulness, but over hundreds of years, your family proved their allegiance

・You grew up with the Stark children as your mother was a close companion of Cateyln’s (when she first came to Winterfell as a newlywed, she felt very lost. Your mother was the same age and showed her the ways of the North)

・Arya and Sansa were like sisters to you. But you were always caught in the middle of their bickering. You were the eldest of four siblings, having two other brothers and a younger sister. She was only a baby when Nedd Stark went to King’s Landing.

・It wasn’t easy, surviving all those years on your own. But you did it. You endured.

・After acquiring a job as a barmaid, you heard all the gossip and news the war

・You protected yourself with a hidden dagger underneath your skirts, and always wore a ring which held poison. Like a locket ring.

・In all honesty, no one fucked with you because of it. And your reputation grew.

・Women would come to you in the early hours of the morning, wanting an array of things. Herbs for birth control, poison for violent husbands, drafts to aid in sleep, ingredients to churn someone’s guts.

・Your boss didn’t mind at first, but he thought you were creating too much attention.

・But your boss’s wife liked you, and she helped you until one day a young Arya Stark trudged into the tavern with a tall scarred man.

・It didn’t take her long to recognise you, and within minutes she had knocked over a pitcher of ale and threw herself into your arms

・She demanded that you came with them, and the rest is history...

・The relationship between you and Sandor was rocky in the beginning. You thought he was too abrasive and harsh. Arya, already used to it, just shrugged her shoulders when you called him out on it

・Even though you knew his reputation, you didn’t care. You had packed your belongings and had your own set of weapons that could kill him.

・He knew that.

・And he was ... honestly impressed

・Arya loved the dynamic between you two. And although she would never admit it, she loved when you fussed over her - your big sister instincts kicking in.

・It took you a while to realise Sandor’s love languages. Arya had to point out when he was ‘being nice’.

・But you saw something in him that he didn’t see in himself. And you fell in love

・When Sansa asked you to be on her council, Sandor was really proud of you, but it took him a long time to accept his position. He didn’t think he was worthy of it.

・”We’ve all made mistakes,” Sansa told him one evening when the three of you were dining together. “You can atone by accepting my offer.”

・You don’t have an official title, as you dabble in many areas of Winterfell. But you’re the connection to the people, and also the natural world. An advisor, and Maester in training.

・Sandor’s official title is, ‘Master-at-Arms’ / ‘Commander’. He’s responsible for training soldiers, giving military advice and choosing the guards of Winterfell.

・Sansa also has a council of Bannermen, who are present when very important decisions are made. (Sandor hates nearly every single one of them.)

・You were going to have a little cottage somewhere warmer (because Sandor doesn’t like the cold), but the position was ... too perfect. Being with Sansa, living in Winterfell, it was home.

・If Sansa travels to King’s Landing, she wants you and Sandor to come with her. She feels safe when the pair of you are around her. Sansa has PTSD (although not known as that), and can get triggered when men get too physically close.

・You’ve taught Sansa about herbs, plants, poisions and cures. The old Sansa never listened, thought it was too boring. But now, she listens intently, and has endless questions.

・Sansa offered to rebuild your family home, but it hurt too much. Until ... two years later, when your youngest brother and sister found their way back home.

・Sandor was unsure of this reunion. He wanted to make sure they were who they said they were.

・But you knew.

・Yes, in your gut you knew. But your brother and sister had specific birth marks and physical oddities which set them aside since birth.

・Arya travelled back to Winterfell when she found out, as did Jon Snow. Even though he was labelled a bastard during your childhoods, your family was still lowborn as well.

・So on numerous occassions, your family had invited Jon Snow to sup with them.

・Sandor didn’t think his life would be like this. He didn’t think he would make it this far or that he deserved the love you gave him.

・And when your siblings came along, they too grew love for Sandor. He offered to train both your siblings (because he thought both men and women should know how to defend themsleves).

・You slowly found out the horrors that your siblings endured, and at nights you cried to Sandor.

・You became a family again.

・And like the generations before you, your family was once again faithful to the ruler in the North.

385 notes · View notes

crownedtargaryen · 1 year

Note

ahhh yay!!

i would like to request something for modern!bran if that’s okay🙏🏻

i was thinking maybe modern!bran with goth reader?

like just headcanons or an imagine, whatever you’d like

you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to :)

lipstick. modern!bran headcanons

MASTERLIST pairing: modern!bran x goth!reader (a/n): I'm so sorry this is so short! Being goth has a lot of different types in that aesthetic, so I tried to generalize and keep it as unspecific as I could! (this Bran goes with this headcanon post I did of him) all notes are appreciated. tag list: @thethreeeyed-raven @howyouloveyourdragon @hopelesswritergall @fairysluna @clairacassidy @ad-astra-again @its-actually-minicika

SFW

• Bran loves you so much

• he ADORES when you sit on his lap and you do his makeup

• though, he's SUUUCH a pain to put makeup on

• he's always laughing and moving, trying to lean in and kiss you

• you have to yell at him, giving him a small smack as he cackles

• "what? can I not have a kiss?" he'll feign innocence that'll make you roll your eyes

• black cat and golden retriever

• he loves letting you dress him up in gothic themed clothing, so proud of any and all outfits you give him

• posts pics of you. over dressed gothic partner with the underdressed basic gamer

• he loves to bring you on his streams, the chat LOVVVES you

• he'll do "partner picks my aesthetic" streams with you, just adoring how excited you get in contrast to your darker more standoffish look

• def looks a bit strange seeing you side by side, but he doesn't care. ur his pfp on EVERYTHING and loves the way you present yourself

• def been called a discord mod with his kitten which has plagued your day to day life where he will jokingly call you kitten

• "that's a lot of talk for my discord kitten," he'll tease, knowing how frustrated it makes you.

does NOT shut up about how he wants to do beastboy x raven

ORR BATMAN X CAT WOMAN he’s OBSESSEDDD

def will call you emo for your aesthetic, laughs so hard when you’re get a bit angry with him

“hey! don’t be mad, maybe i like emos.” he’ll coo, just making you huff then kiss him to shut him up

def will let your paint his nails shades of black and grey, wears that shit with pride

LOVES it when you put on dark lipstick and kiss all over his face. he’s done that smudged lipstick tiktok so many times 👀

even though you’re the more intimidating outer shell of the relationship, bro will fight god for you

someone says shit about your aesthetic, calls you emo or says something harsh, he’s ON IT.

only he’s allowed to poke fun at his partner. someone says shit?

lets just say he’s almost killed a few people

forces you to teach him how to use a wax seal

he’ll nag you for hours, and you finally teach him and he’s over the moon

then one day, he’ll show up with a parchment letter that he’s tea stained for you. you honestly don’t believe it at first

bran didn’t SEEM like the type to do this, but gods he DID IT HE WROTE YOU A GOTHIC PARCHMENT LETTER QUILL AND INK AND EVERYTHING??!!

He LIVES to make you smile with gifts like that

constantly bugging you about what new clothes or shoes you want, what jewelry you may like, what antique gothic trinkets you think are beautiful

then within days they’re in ur hands and you just are like “oh.”

HE LOOOVES taking you to museums of antique medieval gothic resorts

he loves to hear you talk about them, grinning at your excitement and passions and how beautiful you look when you talk so much you run out of breath and have to sharply inhale before continuing

after taking you to the museum he’ll take you on a romantic moonlit picnic with only candles he brought and distant street lights illuminating you both

and he’ll softly go

“i love you…” pause. “even though you’re kind of emo.” then break into a cackle and beg you not to get up and leave

NSFW

• absolutely loves how your black makeup runs down your face when he tails the fuck out of you

• he loves the sight of your hair scattered across the bed as he pins you down, mascara running down your cheeks as you cry in pleasure

• he loves when you have dark lipstick on and kiss all over his body. gladly takes pictures of it and posts it on his private twitter

• usually after sex his face is covered in dark lipstick smudged over his swollen lips and flushed cheeks

• he loves ripping your dark thigh highs apart, immediately delving in your goods with the thin cloth RIPPED APART so easily.

• sometimes gets frustrated because of the layers to your outfits

• he's a switch, loves when you dom him and leave him a begging crying mess with lipstick marks on his thighs and hardened buds on his chest

will never ever stop joking about “you love dark things? let me make some dark ass marks on that pretty little neck.” while he growls and pulls you onto his lap with a cheeky grin

183 notes · View notes

raspberryfingers · 1 year

Text

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 11)

WARNINGS: Mentions of sex

Word Count: 9.3k

—————

Cersei was rather conflicted when it came to the news she’d received. On one hand, she was glad to not be marrying Loras Tyrell anymore, but on the other, she was absolutely furious about the fact that her father had given Sansa Stark up. Tyrion was supposed to marry her, not the heir to Highgarden.

And when she considered why this was happening, her anger only grew. You. You were the reason this change had taken place. You were the reason that her brother had gotten off the hook. Well, he would remain unmarried. For now, at least.

Still, she could not comprehend why in the seven hells her father had entirely changed his mind after a single conversation with you, and for that reason she was currently clutching her skirts as she went up the stairs in the Tower of the Hand.

Cersei had considered that perhaps her father was fucking you, but she did not want to accept that as the truth. Tywin Lannister—in her mind, at least—did not fuck whores, so why would he bother with you? As far as she was concerned, he found you tolerable at best. That was what made this whole change in plans so much more confusing.

It was also how she had come back to one conclusion: the Tyrells were manipulating her family. You, in specific, were manipulating her father. And that was something she would not stand for. She simply had to make the Hand of the King understand it as she did.

Cersei approached the double doors to her father’s office, barely glancing at the guards stationed there. Normally she would’ve waited for them to knock and announce her, but not today. She reached for the handles herself, pushing open the doors despite the guards futile attempts to stop her.

When she entered her father’s office, she did not find him at his desk as she had expected. Instead, he was sitting at the long table eating lunch, and you were standing behind him, kneading his shoulders. Cersei felt disgusted by it, for she could see the way her father was enjoying your touch. She’d seen plenty of men make the exact same face, but never her father. It was entirely disturbing.

When you noticed her standing there, you did not panic, you simply smiled at her and naturally removed your hands from Tywin. His closed eyes opened, and he raised an eyebrow at his daughter.

“Good afternoon, Lady (Y/N). I hope you will forgive me, there’s something I wish to discuss with my father,” Cersei said with a false grin, feeling the anger rising inside her as she noticed that there was a second plate on the table. Her father had invited you for lunch with him. Since when did Tywin Lannister dine with another?

“Of course, Lady Cersei. There is nothing to forgive,” you replied formally, looking down at Tywin and giving him a soft look before folding your hands together and walking toward the double doors. Cersei held her false smile until you left and she heard the wooden slamming behind her.

She turned to her father, who currently looked unbelievably annoyed.

“Having lunch with Lady (Y/N), Father?” Cersei asked, watching him rise from the table and clean up the two plates. He’d have a servant come and fetch them later.

“Clearly. At least I was until you interrupted,” he replied pointedly, gazing over at his daughter with a slight anger. He had been rather enjoying the lunch until now.

“Forgive me for taking away your precious time with the sweet, beautiful, and intelligent Lady (Y/N). I’ve come to discuss something serious with you,” she said, receiving satisfaction from the upset look on her fathers face as she mocked you. Perhaps she’d found a weak spot, and it had only taken 40 years.

“Which is what?”

Tywin had moved to his desk now, decidedly ready to continue writing letters now that one of the only people who could truly hold his focus was gone.

“Oh please, don’t play dumb. I want to discuss the Tyrells and you know that,” Cersei answered sharply, pulling out her chair and sitting down before her father. Tywin only sighed.

“And what is it about them that you’ve come to discuss?”

There was silence for a moment, causing Tywin to merely lift his eyes from the parchment he’d begun to write on. His daughter was only smiling.

“The arrangement. I want to speak about why Loras Tyrell is marrying Sansa Stark again. She was to wed Tyrion—now she’s not.”

“Rather observant of you.”

The Lord Hand went on writing, and the Queen found herself wondering how she’d never had an advantage in a conversation with her father, not even a single time. She sat taller, though deep down she knew it did not make a difference.

“I’m simply curious as to how that change came to be.”

“As I noted to both you and Tyrion, Lady Tyrell and I had quite the discussion upon the subject; I compromised,” Tywin explained, finally raising his eyes from the parchment before him on the desk. Cersei found herself laughing.

“Since when does Tywin Lannister compromise?”

“When it makes sense to do so. I would also like to remind you that you’re getting out of a wedding because of her. You know I certainly had no qualms about it.”

“Ah, of course, I’m certain it was me she had in mind when asking you to call off the wedding.”

“Either way, you are no longer marrying Loras Tyrell. I fail to understand what you’re so upset about.”

Cersei grinded her teeth together, gripping the arms of her chair and leaning forward. “I am upset about the fact that you are willingly giving House Tyrell power. You said it yourself, they’re attempting to steal the key to the north. Suddenly that’s perfectly alright with you?”

“Yes, it is. Their betrothal will sustain an important alliance for another generation through Tyrion’s children and will simultaneously give us access to the north. Not to mention, the match may become increasingly useful,” Tywin replied, much to his daughter’s confusion.

“Useful?”

“To the war effort. It is not a concern of yours.”

Cersei felt anger bubbling inside of her. Her father always did this—he always spoke down to her. She was the King’s mother, did she not have a right to know what was going on?

“I don’t trust Lady Tyrell. Nor should you.”

“And why is that?” Tywin questioned rather drolly, looking back down at his paper. He was in no mood for his daughter’s hysterics.

“She’s manipulating you, just as her sister is manipulating Joffrey,” Cersei said, trying to hide how anxious she was. Her father’s judgment was harsh, and she could not let her argument crumble under his scrutiny.

“Is that so? And tell me, how is Lady Tyrell manipulating me?” Tywin asked, cocking an eyebrow at his daughter to suggest that what she had just said was utterly stupid. Cersei took a deep breath, attempting to control her frustration.

“That ring. She gave it to you, didn’t she? Had it made off of her sword,” she said, nodding toward his left hand. Tywin glanced down at the jewelry and hummed an affirmation.

“Yes, she did. I fail to see how that suggests she is manipulating me.”

“She’s giving you gifts to win you over, Father. She plants seeds in your head, watering them with pleasantries. You’re too distracted to watch them grow.”

“I have given her gifts as well. Not only that, but you’re acting as if I find material objects to be some precious thing. It is not as if I couldn’t buy myself whatever I wanted.”

That was a lie, for Tywin could not buy the love he had felt when you’d given him that ring. He could not buy the swell in his chest whenever he looked at it. He could not buy the friendship that had been suggested with the object.

Cersei only stared at her father, and suddenly the thought from earlier came back to her. She could not hold back the urge to mention it, because doing so might be all telling.

“You’re fucking her, aren’t you?”

Suddenly, and somewhat—very—frighteningly, Tywin’s posture straightened and fire filled his eyes. As he set his quill down, Cersei could see the clench in her father’s jaw.

“You said there was something serious to discuss, but if you’ve come here to make ridiculous and false accusations, then leave.”

“I didn’t come here to insinuate that, but I walked in and she had her pretty little hands all over you. I saw your face, Father, you were leaning into her touch, eyes closed in pure bliss. All the while, you don’t realize she’s digging her claws into you, manipulating you. Tyrion was supposed to marry Sansa Stark, and now he’s not, simply because that Highgarden bitch told you not to marry them and you listened,” Cersei hissed, watching her father rise from his chair with a distinct fire in his eyes. Her nails were digging into the wood of her seat.

“Be careful, Cersei,” he warned, only intending to do so once. He did not intend to tolerate this disrespect toward both him and you.

“Please tell me you’re only sleeping with her and that you don’t actually… no. That’s not possible…” she trailed off, looking up at Tywin with something close to bewilderment. It was not possible that he felt any real affection for you, was it? Surely Tywin Lannister would only ever have one love, and it was Cersei’s mother.

“I am not sleeping with her, nor do I feel any attraction toward her. I trust and respect Lady (Y/N), that is all. I won’t have you questioning me upon this absurd subject.”

“Oh yes, that’s it. You respect her. If anyone is being absurd, it is certainly not me. You respect Lady Olenna quite a lot, Father, and the way you look at her is nowhere near the same,” Cersei huffed out with disbelief, suddenly infuriated that her father could not provide any real excuse. She didn’t want to believe that he had feelings for you, and yet this conversation was making it abundantly obvious that he did.

“Lady Olenna is an alliance, her granddaughter is a friend. There’s a very large difference,” Tywin said sharply, wishing for the conversation to end more than anything else. This was not a subject he wished to discuss with anyone, and doing so with Cersei made it ten times worse.

“Since when does Tywin Lannister have friends? The last friend you had betrayed you in every way imaginable, I have a hard time believing you were so willing to accept Lady (Y/N). Either she’s an ally, or you’re fucking her, and clearly she’s more to you than just an alliance,” Cersei laughed to herself, feeling angry for various reasons that she couldn’t place. Your sister had power over her son and you had power over her father. How was that even possible?

“I am not bedding Lady (Y/N), and that’s the last time I’m going to say it, Cersei. This discussion is over.”

“Then why does she have so much power over you? She’s plotting against us and you’re too preoccupied to notice.” Cersei rose now too, planting her knuckles into the table and leaning toward her father as she continued to make her point. “You’re sacrificing the Lannister legacy and for what? For a nice pair of tits and ass that you could find on any common whore?”

Cersei felt her stomach drop when she saw her fathers eyes widen. She could not recall the last time she’d seen such an intense anger in his eyes, and before she could move back, a loud ‘thwack’ filled the room.

Tywin smacked her across the face, using the back of his hand no less. Cersei stepped back in shock and raised a hand to her face, she could not even recall the last time her father had hit her. Even then, it most assuredly had not been so violent. His valyrian steel ring had cut her face, and she could feel the distinct burning there.

As Tywin looked at his daughter, he saw her for what she was : a hurt little girl. For a moment, guilt filled him. He shouldn’t have hit Cersei, he knew that. How could he hit a face that looked so much like Joanna’s?

“I apologize… I should not have hurt you, Cersei. But I did warn you. I will take your insults toward me with anger, but you will watch your tongue when you talk about Lady (Y/N). I’m tired of your foolishness and insecurity. She’s not plotting anything against us, in fact, she is plotting for us,” Tywin said with a low tone, and somewhat too calmly. There was something deadly about the way he was speaking, almost as though he was fighting back an explosive rage.

Cersei fell back into her chair and gazed up at her father with tears beginning to pool in her eyes. She recalled her mother smacking her for being particularly rude, and she simultaneously recalled how upset it had made her. She now regretted being so angry toward her mother.

“You may not want to believe me, Father, but Lady (Y/N) is plotting against us. Her, Margaery, and Olenna. They’re all plotting, and I know it,” Cersei said softly, looking up for just a few seconds before looking back down.

“Perhaps once you tell me what exactly it is that they’re plotting, I’ll believe you. Until then, I don’t want to hear anymore about the Tyrells from you,” Tywin responded, subtle fury dripping off of every word. His guilt had faded, for she had only brought this upon herself. In fact, when he looked at Cersei he couldn’t help but sneer.

“You disgrace me. You disgrace House Lannister with all of your insecurities, not to mention your lack of willingness to be civil with the people around you. You’re not ruling all seven kingdoms, Cersei, I am. The only reason Westeros isn’t in complete ruin is because I know what needs to be done to keep it intact, which includes having allies, something you don’t seem to think you need. I’ve told you before, the reason I distrust you is not because you’re a woman, let Lady Tyrell be proof. You’re seeking to tear down a strong alliance because you’re afraid that your son will find comfort in another woman. Between your paranoid fantasies and the food, wealth, and men that the Tyrells are providing us with, I am going to pick the latter option every single time.”

The only sound in the room then was quiet breathing, and though Tywin was staring into Cersei’s skull, she did not have it in her to look up at her father. She only attempted to open her mouth after a minute or so, but was quickly stopped.

“No. I don’t want to hear your voice, or your opinions, right now. Get out and thank the gods you’re my daughter.”

“Father-“

“Out!”

The room seemed to shake with the intensity of Tywin’s voice, and Cersei cowardly stood before her father. He watched a single tear steam down her face with an annoyed silence. He wished her to leave, and that was all.

And leave she did, keeping her head low as she approached the door. Cersei did not want anyone to see the scar or—even worse—the tears on her face; it would’ve been too embarrassing.

As the door shut behind his daughter, Tywin took several deep breaths. Falling back into his chair, he sighed and leaned his head back. Cersei, in his mind, was clearly delusional, because how could you be plotting against him? All you had ever done was provide solid advice, and all that your family wanted was to make Margaery queen and give Loras a suitable bride.

But, besides that, he had this overwhelming guilt in knowing that Cersei was right about one thing: he was undeniably attracted to you. Even then, that was an understatement. Tywin waved away the thought frequently, but he knew deep down that he was in love with you. Your smile was his favorite sight, just as your voice was his favorite sound. He could not stand the thought of being away from you for any extended amount of time, and often while talking to you, he wanted to do nothing more than pull you close and press his lips to yours.

And much to his embarrassment, that was not all he felt for you. When he allowed himself to think about it, he knew he wanted to kiss you, and then suck at your neck. Tywin wished to disrobe you and lay you across his bed, or even just push you down on his desk. Perhaps then he would bury his face between your thighs, gripping the flesh there as you arched into his mouth. And once he was finished with that, he would enjoy your warmth around him and listen to the sweet hum of his name falling from your lips.

Those thoughts were the dangerous ones, and the ones that ate away at him frequently. How could he see you that way when surely the most you saw him as was a friend? How could he betray your trust that way?

If you had any inkling of the way he thought about you, he was certain that you would be disgusted, and he hated himself for it. Something that had happened to you years ago was still eating away at you, he could see it in your eyes, and surely his feelings for you were precisely what you feared because of that.

Of course, Tywin would never act on such emotions, he was better than that. They had kept him awake in bed more than once, but that was all. He would never hurt you that way, for it was utterly unimaginable to do so. All he cared for was your safety and your happiness, and for that reason, he was perfectly content to remain your friend alone. To talk to you, to see you laugh. That was more than enough for the Great Lion of the Rock.

—————

“Loras?”

When I entered my brother's room, I found him sitting on the edge of his bed, staring out the window. He looked back at me when he heard his name.

“(Y/N),” he greeted softly, patting the space next to him for me to come sit down. I did so with nerves in my stomach, for I had not a single clue how to start this conversation.

“Loras, I thought I should talk to you about the bedding ceremony. I know you said you were fine with it, but are you feeling alright now?” I asked slowly. It was my brother’s wedding day, which even I was having a hard time processing.

Loras stiffened beside me, and I felt horrible. A bedding was tradition, and yet I knew my brother was absolutely dreading it. I couldn’t say I blamed him, for I expected that my wedding would bring the same emotional turmoil.

“I know what’s expected of me, that’s all there is to it,” Loras whispered in reply. When I turned to look at him, there was a deep sadness in his eyes. I pulled him into my arms, and he buried his face into my neck.

“It’s going to be hard, I’m not going to lie to you. And I know it doesn’t- doesn’t work that way, but if you find yourself overwhelmed, perhaps try closing your eyes,” I suggested, not sure what else would be helpful. He only nodded, and I sighed.

“I love you so much, Loras. I know you’ve felt pressure as the heir to Highgarden, but I just want you to be safe and secure. I’m sorry that it means you need to be uncomfortable and unhappy,” I whispered, letting my hand come to his hair. I petted it gently, just as I had done when he was a child.

“It’s not- it’s not even that. I’ve always known I’d need to marry and have children, I just- it would be so much easier if not for Renly,” he said softly, pulling away to face me. There were tears in his eyes, and I felt my heart breaking.

“I know, Loras, I know. I’m so sorry, my dear boy.”

He began to cry, and I pulled him back into my shoulder.

“I knew he’d have to have kids too, I just thought- I just thought perhaps we’d both be able to stay together through it all. I loved him, (Y/N)… I loved him so much,” he sobbed, pulling away again and shaking his head.

“I know you loved him, Loras, and I’m so sorry.” I cupped his face and wiped his tears with my thumbs. He only looked down, not able to meet my eyes.

“At least my wedding will be grand, I’ve always looked forward to having a beautiful wedding,” he muttered with a gentle smile, finding a small joy to focus on. I kissed his forehead, holding his face as I did.

“Not to mention, you look extremely handsome,” I added, admiring his coat. It was a light green with golden roses sewed into the fabric, and I found that he looked every bit the Lord of Highgarden. It was a strange thought to consider.

“Thank you. You’re certainly going to catch Lord Tywin’s attention with that,” Loras grinned widely now, motioning to my dress. It was pastel pink and dipped down just below my breasts, pushing them together slightly. Of course, there were also the signature gold accents that no Tyrell was free of.

“Oh please, enough of that. Have grandmother and Margaery also forced you into it?” I asked, scoffing and shaking my head with disapproval. It was utterly ridiculous that the entire family wished to embarrass me this way.

“Grandmother and Margaery have noticed it too? Who am I kidding, of course they have,” Loras thought out loud, beginning to laugh. I gaped at him, shocked that he’d come to this conclusion all on his own. Had they all gone utterly mad?

“Oh stop it! It is seriously not possible that you are also so delusional,” I sputtered, still bewildered at the fact even Loras seemed to believe I was in love with Tywin.

“Oh please, sister, you mustn't lie. You can tell me, I promise not to tease you or tell Margaery,” he said, eyebrows lifting with a sweet excitement. I waved my hand with refusal as I stood up.

“There is nothing to discuss. Come, Loras, we ought to leave for the sept.”

My brother nodded, and he anxiously kneaded the inside of his palm as he took a deep breath. Today was entirely overwhelming for him, I had no doubt of that.

I reached for my brother’s hand, taking it in mine and giving it a squeeze. He looked up at me and mustered the best smile that he could before rising from his seat. I took his arm and pressed my other hand to his cheek.

“I love you, Loras.”

“I love you more, sister.”

“Impossible.”

“Yes, just as you having feelings for Lord Tywin is.”

I smacked his arm, and we both laughed a bit as we left the room. We spent the rest of our journey to the sept chatting, and I was grateful for the fact that I’d been given a brother like Loras. He was occasionally somewhat hot tempered and stubborn, but then again, so was I.

When we arrived at the sept, Loras was immediately speechless. My grandmother had spared no expense with the decorations, and he seemed overjoyed. The rest of our family was already present, and so were a great deal of other nobles, including Tywin.

When I’d set my eyes upon him, I had suddenly become just as speechless as Loras had been. Tywin was wearing a coat I’d never seen him in before. It was black leather, just as most of his were, but his shoulders had ornate, golden lions on them, surrounded by fine designs. Not to mention the gold clips down the front of his coat. He looked every bit ‘The Great Lion of the Rock.’

“Seems you’re both trying to impress each other,” Loras whispered suddenly, forcing me to pull my eyes away from the Lord Hand. I simply scoffed and hit my brother’s shoulder. He laughed and put his hands up defensively, clearly enjoying my annoyance.

Though, as I looked back over at Tywin, I couldn’t help biting my lip. He was magnificent, and delightfully distracted in a conversation with Lord Varys, which allowed me to admire him shamelessly. He looked so tall, so strong in that coat. Surely noticing that wasn’t anything odd, it was merely an observation that any sane person would make.

After a few minutes, Tywin seemingly bid Lord Varys goodbye and turned around. My eyes were somehow the first that he caught, and his face softened when he saw me. He came straight towards my brother and I, and as I took him in completely I was speechless. Not to mention, whatever scent he was wearing was especially nice.

“Ser Loras, Lady (Y/N),” Tywin greeted with a nod, striding up to us and stopping. Loras smiled and returned the gesture with a brief ‘Lord Tywin’.

“How are you feeling?” He clasped his hands together behind his back, standing even straighter than before. Gods, he was tall.

“Quite ecstatic, Lord Tywin. My grandmother spared no expense for the ceremony and I’m sure the same will be said of the feast. Not to mention, I’m certain Lady Sansa will look lovely,” he said, giving Tywin a somewhat cunning look. He knew exactly what to say, and it gave me a strange sense of pride.

“Of course. You must be excited to marry such a beautiful woman,” Tywin noted, making me slightly irritated. His questioning was childish, and I had no doubt he wanted to watch Loras crack, simply to prove that he was right in not wanting my brother to marry Sansa Stark.

“I most definitely am. And, speaking of beautiful women, does not my sister look positively stunning today?” Loras said with a rather suggestive tone, simply grinning at Tywin as he gestured to me. The Great Lion looked me up and down and held my eyes for a few seconds, a curious look on his face as he did.

“Yes… she does. You look breathtaking, Lady (Y/N),” Tywin said softly, reaching out and taking my hand. He raised it to his lips, and my breath caught in my throat for some reason. My brother watching us with his accusing gaze didn’t make it any less awkward, I reasoned.

“Thank you, Lord Tywin. You look quite handsome in that coat. I’ve never seen you wear it before,” I replied genuinely, admiring the details more closely now that he was standing before me.

“No, you certainly wouldn’t have. It’s new,” he explained, to which I nodded. He’d let go of my hand, and the air around it felt cold now.

“It suits you well,” I complimented, though somewhat anxiously. Tywin muttered a soft ‘thank you’ and then swallowed. There was silence for a moment, only interrupted by Loras coughing.

“I’m going to go socialize, sister, I will see you after the ceremony,” he said, placing his hand on my arm before grinning and leaving me with Tywin. When my brother was gone, I gave the Lord Hand a sharp look.

“You shouldn’t have prodded him like that.”

“I needed to make sure nothing had changed now that he is actually getting married,” he replied, to which I sighed and crossed my arms.

“I discussed the bedding ceremony with him beforehand, he’s nervous and uncomfortable but will be fine. Plus, even if he and Sansa struggle tonight, he is aware of his duties.”

“I meant it, you do look beautiful in that dress,” Tywin said, suddenly switching the topic as though it didn’t even matter to him to begin with. I instantly looked up at him, somewhat surprised. Where had that come from? There was heat rising in my face now.

“I meant what I said too. You look… tall… in this coat,” I replied quietly, looking him up and down rather bashfully. I noticed his cheeks turn a sweet shade of pink, and with the sun shining in from the sept windows, his eyes were the most gorgeous shade of turquoise and blue I’d ever seen.

Tywin cleared his throat, glancing down at the ground before speaking. “It must be shocking to watch your younger siblings get married now.”

“It is. I’ve been many things, but being their older sister has always been the most important to me and in that role it is astonishing to think they’re going to have wives and husbands, not to mention children,” I reflected sentimentally, thinking about the fact that in my mind, Loras and Margaery were still children themselves. I could swear that just yesterday, Loras and I had been playing in the river near Highgarden, swimming and skipping stones. What had happened to that?

“I was the eldest among my siblings as well. I remember all their weddings, some more fondly than others. My sister, Genna, wed one of Walder Frey’s sons. I was furious with my father for allowing the match. Emmon Frey wasn’t even the heir, he was the second son. My sister deserved much more than that,” he grumbled bitterly, shaking his head as he contemplated it.

“And yet you’re going to marry one of his daughters to Tyrion,” I pointed out, raising an eyebrow at the irony of it all.

“It matters much less who a man marries than who a woman does. It’s about time Tyrion married, anyway.” Tywin looked over his shoulder to find his son speaking with my grandmother. I smiled and made a small note to ask what they had discussed later on.

“Well, I suppose that’s true. It’s been pointed out to me many times. My father has been gracious in not forcing me to marry just yet, but I fear now that my younger siblings are doing so, it won’t be long until I meet the same fate,” I said with a sigh, wishing I could ignore the fact that my father only grew more frustrated with me each passing moment. My days as a free woman were numbered.

“One of his daughters is marrying the king, and his son is marrying Sansa Stark. He ought to be content for now,” Tywin said, eyes falling upon my father. The Lord Hand almost looked upset, though I paid it little mind.

“He will never be satisfied until I am married. He fears people will worry that somehow I’m ruined, though the truth of it is I don’t think any men are brave enough to subject themselves to me,” I said, to which Tywin gave a gentle chuckle. He dared not to give his usual laugh, others would hear.

“Am I the only one brave enough thus far?” He asked with a teasing grin.

“The Great Lion ought to be. But no, I mean romantically, of course. Plenty of men have called themselves my friend, especially because I am the head of my army, but I don’t suppose any of them see me romantically. Even if they did, my father would never allow it for obvious reasons. Not only that but… well…” I trailed off, sighing and grabbing my arms for comfort. I found myself staring at the stone floor, only looking up when Tywin’s finger came to my chin and lifted it.

“But what?” he asked softly, a look of genuine concern on his face. I licked my lips anxiously, swallowing before taking a deep breath.

“But my last… involvement with a soldier did not- did not end very well for me,” I muttered, only able to hold his eye contact for a second or two a time. Tywin softened, suddenly realizing what I was insinuating. Slowly but surely, he was piecing together what had happened to me.

“Someday, (Y/N), I pray you find a husband that protects and cares for you. Someone who will make you forget that man’s existence altogether.”

“As hard as I try, Tywin, I will never forget his existence. Such is the burden of being a woman. That is why I’ve learned to protect myself—to the best of my abilities, anyway,” I said firmly, looking deep into his eyes to let him know I was serious. For even Tywin Lannister, with all his gold and all his men, could not prevent the harm men seemed to love inflicting upon women.

And in all honesty, he had been no better for most of his life. Though his protection of me was appreciated, it would never change the atrocities of his past. I could never forgive those, nor would I forget. It did hurt, I reflected, to know that a man who I cared for so deeply had been the cause of such pain. My affection for Tywin Lannister was as much a curse as it was a blessing.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

I stared at him for a moment before nodding and reaching for his hand. I gave it a gentle squeeze, for I did not know how to reply to him. This gesture was enough.

Just then, the High Septon walked in, signaling that we should all begin to take our places in the crowd. Tywin briefly raised my hand to his lips and then left, going to stand at the front with the rest of the Lannisters. I pitied him, having to stand next to Joffrey for the entire ceremony.

And of course, it was a long, quite boring ceremony. But Loras looked so handsome, not to mention grown up. And naturally, Sansa looked beautiful as well, practically smiling the whole time. It seemed Loras couldn’t help but return it, and I got the general sense that even if he would not love her the way he’d loved Renly, they would be a relatively happy couple compared to most.

As I thought about that, however, I couldn’t help but glance over at Tywin. He was watching the ceremony quite candidly, and certainly not with the malicious enthusiasm of his grandson. There was something quite nice about looking at him when he was unaware of my gaze.

Though, I didn’t stare for long, as I focused on the ceremony once again. The entire room applauded as Loras and Sansa kissed for the first time as husband and wife, and I was glad to see them smile afterwards.

Unlike me, however, Tywin had not even seen them kiss. Not because he was disinterested or bored, but because his attention was somewhere else entirely. In fact, had I looked over at that moment, I would’ve become aware that he’d missed their kiss because he was staring at me.

—————

Tywin found himself quite miserable at the wedding feast, even despite how grand it was. It was not anything unusual for him, as he’d never been fond of large parties or tourneys. In all honesty, he considered them to be far too lavish and a waste of money. But this was different.

The Hand of the King had not spent a single coin on this wedding, and even still he was unusually upset. After all, how could he enjoy himself when the entire night you hadn’t even looked his way, let alone talked to him?

It was a childish complaint, he knew that, but he still couldn’t help it. Sitting at the table next to his daughter and grandson was no joyous task, and his only consolation was the good quality of the food being served.

Still, Tywin had been subtly watching you the entire evening. You’d made your rounds, greeted plenty of nobles, and seemingly discussed your brother at great length various times. You were extremely busy, and he noted that you seemed relieved upon sitting down at the table beside your sister, grandmother, and father.

He watched you reach for your cup, taking a sip of wine as you conversed with Margaery. Reluctantly, Tywin looked down at his plate and pushed his fork into a piece of meat, hoping that perhaps food and drink would help soothe the headache that had suddenly developed. He just wished for the whole night to be done with already.

“Not hungry, Father?” Tyrion questioned, suddenly noticing just how much food was left on Tywin’s plate. His father gave him an annoyed look.

“No, not particularly.”

“Preoccupied with something?”

Father and son stared at each other for a few seconds, and Tyrion raised a brow. He had not missed the obnoxious amount of time his father had spent looking at you this evening, and he’d found it rather curious. He certainly couldn’t recall ever having a friend that he had stared at that much.

“I’m tired. I woke early this morning,” Tywin lied, not caring whatsoever about the fact that it was a horrible excuse. Tyrion would not prod about it, lest he make his father mad. He was in a bad enough mood already, it seemed.

“Well, I apologize then. I know how much you adore weddings,” Tyrion jested, though there was no amusement from the Lord Hand. That was alright, usually his father did not laugh at his jokes.

Though, Tyrion had to admit, the air was rather tense beside Tywin, and when he caught sight of Bronn across the room it seemed the perfect opportunity to get up and leave. Tywin was similarly glad to be left in peace.

His eyes were on you again, and he was glad to be seated at the table directly across from you. You looked even more beautiful than normal when you were happy, and you were ecstatic right now. Gods, if you would just look his way.

Tywin grabbed his cup, drinking a bit too much wine all at once. He was needy, he could admit that; he wasn’t embarrassed to do so when he thought about how much he wanted you all to himself.

The sudden strumming of the band caught both his and your attention, along with practically everyone else’s in the courtyard. They’d begun to play the perfect music for dancing, and people began to cheer as Loras escorted Sansa into the middle of the space. Tywin truthfully had no desire to watch them dance, but it at least gave him an excuse to look at you a little bit less shamefully, for they were positioned right between the two of you.

You, of course, had fond eyes as you watched your brother, but Tywin could not care less. He found that his attraction to you had only been growing stronger as of late, and it was somewhat concerning. He supposed Cersei attempting to call him out for it had only made him ponder the subject even more.

For a moment or two, Tywin focused on the dancing couple. But even then, his mind only drifted to what it might be like to dance with you. He wondered if you were any good, and also if he still was. It had been years since he’d danced with anyone, admittedly.

Cersei suddenly sighed beside him, and when he looked over she appeared to be drinking her annoyance away just as he had been a few minutes ago. He hadn’t a clue why she was upset, but then again she always was. Tywin noted that the scar on her cheek was almost entirely gone now, and he was glad. It had been a little more than a week since that conversation, and he’d felt horrible for hitting her after his anger had dissipated.

His thoughts were interrupted by clapping, and he realized that the newlyweds had finished their dance. He joined in, though rather unenthusiastically. More people took to the floor now, and as Tywin glanced at his daughter again, a sudden urge gripped him.

“Cersei.”

She turned to look at her father, and found his hand extended out toward her. She suddenly realized that he was asking to dance with her, and she anxiously accepted. It had been quite some time since her father had asked her to dance.

Slowly, she took his hand, standing from her seat at the same time as him. Tywin escorted Cersei to the floor, and many were surprised to see them. You had not failed to notice either, and it made you smile. The Great Lion was never unsurprising.

“I want you to know that I am sorry about last week. I was being unnecessarily harsh,” Tywin whispered to his daughter, forcing himself to be uncomfortable as he made eye contact with her. Cersei’s face softened, and she nodded.

“Well, I was being foolish, and I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have prodded or insulted you the way that I did. You were right to be angry,” she replied softly, looking down as she did.

“Angry, perhaps, but not violent. You are my daughter, Cersei. You are Joanna’s daughter. I shouldn’t have laid a hand on you.”

Cersei finally met her father’s eyes, staring at him in silence for a moment until they circled around each other while dancing. When they came back to their previous position, she let herself speak.

“I may not trust the Tyrells, but I do trust you, Father. If you- if you feel that they are genuine allies, then I will not impose my own opinions. I simply wish for you to be cautious, is all. Lady (Y/N) may be more genuine than her sister, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t dangerous. Please remember that,” Cersei implored, noticing you over her father’s shoulder as you danced with Loras. She could not explain why she distrusted you so, but there was a feeling deep inside of her that nagged and would not go away.

Tywin blinked a few times, processing his daughter’s sentiment and then nodding. “I will. And if you ever have genuine reasons to distrust them, know that I’ll listen.”

The Lord Hand twirled his daughter, and found himself at least consoled by this dance. Not only that, but you had come into view now. You could not stop laughing as you danced with your brother, and the sound made Tywin soften. Gods, you looked utterly irresistible tonight.

The song came to a finish, and Tywin gave his daughter a gentle smile as they went back to their table. She could not help returning it, and she realized it had been some time since she genuinely smiled about something.

Suddenly, this wedding did not feel quite so solemn to Tywin. At least, it didn’t until he found you in conversation with Ser Elias and another man he recognized as his son’s sellsword.

You were incredibly animated as you spoke to them, and simply unable to stop smiling. He watched you raise an eyebrow at the sellsword—Bronn, he believed it was—with an unparalleled jealousy. He hadn’t a clue what the two of you were discussing, and yet it looked entirely flirtatious.

Tywin’s anger only increased when he saw Bronn motion up and down at you with a grin, to which you gave him a playful shove and then placed a hand on his shoulder. That was unmistakably a sign of flirtation, and it made the Lord Hand’s stomach drop. His heart was physically aching, and he detested it.

To have this affection for you was heaven and hell all at once. You made him unbelievably happy, and yet to know that you would never be his was incredibly frustrating. Tywin was content as your friend, yes, but it became a thousand times harder when he considered you having romantic feelings for another.

He continued to watch you converse with Bronn, though not without downing all the wine in his cup. He held it out for a servant to refill, suddenly grateful that Cersei was preoccupied trying to manage Joffrey, for she would have noticed her father drinking. Tywin only drank for leisure and for taste, never to become intoxicated. Well, given his current intentions, never was incorrect.

Gods, Tywin could not stand seeing the way that man was looking at you, for even if you did not know it, there was undeniably desire in his eyes. He wished that he could rip the eyes of every man in Westeros out, simply so that he might be the only one who could see you. Those men did not deserve to look at you, and deep down, Tywin felt that neither did he. You seemed a creature too perfect for this world.

The wine only seemed to keep coming, and the Lord Hand would not stop drinking. He would do anything to get rid of this intolerable ache that you had caused. He had forgotten what this jealousy felt like, and he had not missed it.

Eventually, the pain did start to fade, and Tywin felt incredibly relaxed and free. He had not been drunk in quite some time, and especially not to this degree. To be this ruined was something he might’ve expected from his son, and that was concerning enough.

Thankfully, nobody had noticed how inebriated the Lord Hand was just yet, especially when Joffrey began calling out for the bedding ceremony. People were moving around him, but Tywin felt far too out of it to really do anything. Though, he did begin to feel like he needed to relieve himself, and so he stood up from his seat at the table.

In his present state, however, he stumbled a bit and bumped directly into someone. Only when they turned around and faced him directly did he realize it was you. You said something, but he did not process it entirely, and so his reply came back as a series of incoherent mumbles. Luckily, you were smart enough to figure out exactly what was going on.

—————

“Tywin, are you drunk?”

I stared at the man before me, noting that he had an almost dizzy look about him. The smell of wine was more prevalent on his breath than usual, and he hadn’t even given me a coherent reply when I’d said his name the first time.

“Drunk? O-Of course not,” he replied, words so slurred that it wouldn’t have convinced the dumbest fool alive. I sighed, looking around at the mass of people following Loras and Sansa.

“Come, sit down for a moment. You need to eat something, or perhaps drink some water,” I suggested, gripping his arm and attempting to help him toward his seat. It was a rather fruitless attempt, however, because Tywin was instantly tripping over his feet. I was shocked to see him like this.

“I need… I need to use the privy,” he mumbled, looking around as if searching for one. I watched a great deal of the nobles dispersing and realized that this was the perfect opportunity to get him out of the feast, for nobody would wonder where he’d gone.

“You need to get to the Tower of the Hand and sleep. I’ll help you, just try your best to walk,” I told him, grabbing his arm a bit more firmly and helping him forward. It was a rather painful process, but people were so preoccupied with the bedding that nobody really noticed us slipping away.

As we went into a more quiet hall, I draped Tywin’s arm over my shoulder to make it easier for us to walk together. Even then, it wasn’t exactly easy.

“Where are we going?” Tywin asked, hiccuping and stumbling forward a bit. I glanced at him with absolute shock.

“Gods, Tywin, how much did you have to drink? Are you alright?”

“I had… quite a bit…”

I only sighed, continuing to help him through the Red Keep. The worst part was once we had reached the Tower of the Hand, because going up that many stairs with a 6’3” drunk man at your side is almost impossible. It took far too much patience, and I was relieved once we reached the top and went into his actual chambers.

“You said you needed to use the privy?” I questioned, recalling that he had mentioned it at the feast. He only nodded, and I sighed before helping him over to it. Thankfully, he was coherent enough to go in on his own and not hurt himself.

Meanwhile, I stood awkwardly outside the door. I found myself wondering why he’d even gotten so drunk to begin with, because it was entirely unlike him. Tywin was no drunk, especially in public. Even if he’d gotten into some sort of argument with his children, I couldn’t imagine anything being so horrible that he would’ve chosen alcohol to soothe himself. Not to mention, it wasn’t just light inebriation either. He would most assuredly be miserable in the morning.

The door suddenly flung open beside me, and I turned my head to watch Tywin shuffle out of the privy. All his clothes were thankfully in place, and once I was sure of that I moved toward him and once again put his arm around me.

“Let’s get you to bed, Tywin,” I whispered, placing my hand on his back to help him forward. He mumbled something, and I gave a soft ‘hm?’ to signify that I hadn’t heard him.

“Will you… will you stay awhile?” he repeated, making his question audible now. I looked up at him and nodded, for I knew it would make him feel better. Plus, I would have to make sure he did not roll onto his back while sleeping.

We got to his bedroom, and I carefully pushed the door open and guided Tywin inside. I closed the door behind us and then led him to his bed, sitting him down there. He took a bit of initiative himself, and I watched as he began to undo his coat. I helped him pull it off once he was done, and then assisted him with his boots.

“May I ask… Tywin, why you drank so much at the feast?” I questioned as I stood up from the floor, tossing his shoes aside. I went over to the table then, pouring water into a cup and bringing it over to him. He drank a small sip before setting it down on his nightstand.

“You did not speak to me the entire feast,” he said slowly, zoning out as he stared at the floor behind me. My eyebrows furrowed at his answer.

“What do you mean?”

“You- You spoke to nearly every noble there… b-but did not look my way a single time.” He was continually interrupted by hiccups. I only sighed, stepping closer to him and taking his hand in mine. Tywin finally looked me in the eyes then.

“Weddings are for catching up with people, and I see you every day. And, I most certainly was looking your way. How could I not? You looked very handsome in that coat,” I explained, giving his palm a reassuring squeeze.

“You talked to Ser Elias… and Tyrion’s man,” he mumbled, blinking somewhat heavily. I realized he was referring to Bronn, and I was even more perplexed.

“Yes, I did. Why?”

There was no reply, and he looked away again. It clicked then that he’d been jealous. Was that why he’d gotten himself drunk? Simply because he was jealous of my other friendships?

“Tywin… listen to me. I may be friends with both Ser Elias and Bronn, but that in no way disregards how much I value you. You are my dearest friend, believe me when I say that. As I said, the only reason I did not converse with you at the feast was because I see you so often. It was not because I didn’t wish to,” I assured him, reaching for his other hand as well and looking straight into his eyes. He looked up from the floor then, scanning and carefully observing my face.

“You are beautiful, (Y/N)… v-very beautiful.”

Even despite his hiccup, the way he had said it took me by surprise. My breath suddenly caught in my throat, for Tywin’s expression was giving me a feeling that I had no explanation for.

“Thank you, Tywin…”

We stared at each other for a moment longer, but I cleared my throat and looked around. I had to get him to sleep.

“You ought to lie down. Sleep on your left side, you’re less likely to vomit that way. I don’t- I don’t know what state your stomach is in right now, but I’ll leave this here just in case you think eating something might help,” I said to him, watching him swing his legs into bed and then lay back. I reached into the pockets of my dress, pulling out the cookie I had wrapped in my handkerchief and setting it on his nightstand. I was rather fond of sneaking sweets out of feasts, for I often woke in the night with a craving for them. Though, in the Lord Hand’s case, a cookie was probably not the best thing for him to eat, but I would let him be the judge of that.

Tywin shifted onto his left side then, just as I had recommended, and I was quick to position pillows around him so that he would not roll onto his stomach or onto his back. If the great Tywin Lannister should die after all these years choking on his own vomit, I feared it might be a rather disappointing conclusion.

When I was done with that, I sat on the edge of his bed, holding one of his hands. He was slowly but surely drifting off to sleep, and eventually I could tell by his breathing that he was entirely out. Biting a lip, I decided to stay a little longer. I just wanted to make sure that he was alright.

Though, I admittedly couldn’t help but admire him. He looked so peaceful like this, and it put an odd feeling into my chest. He and I had come so far since the Battle of Blackwater, and I was glad. It was hard to feel affection for Tywin sometimes, especially when I remembered all the atrocious things he’d done in the past, but he was so sweet with me. Few people had ever cared for me as he had.

I found myself thinking about how he’d called me beautiful, and heat came to my cheeks. Tywin had not said ‘you look beautiful’, he had said ‘you are beautiful’. There was a difference there, and it was making my heart pound. Why was that?

Suddenly my thoughts shifted to what both of my siblings and my grandmother seemed to believe my feelings for Tywin were. Surely they were wrong, for how could I have romantic feelings for this man? This horrible, awful man who’d ordered things done to women that I couldn’t even comprehend in my worst nightmares. This horrible, awful man who was 41 years older than me. This horrible, awful man who had saved my life, who had spent hours upon hours with me, who had come out in the pouring rain just to apologize to me.

Staring at him now, I realized that Tywin had made me happier than any man or god, and that over the last few months I’d come to enjoy 30 minutes with him more than 30 minutes with a sword.

The realization hit me with an insane force, and I found myself trembling as I watched him sleep. My family was right; I was undeniably in love with Tywin Lannister.

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