some love for jaime

jaime x cersei shipper: i don’t ship jaime and brienne because of sexist tropes

jaime x cersei shipper: *proceeds to talk shit about brienne and heavily implies that jaime x brienne fans are only ugly girls who project themselves on brienne* 

Originally posted by onespeakerforthedead


Summary: The Reach are long gone and life goes on for Blue Beetle as normally as it can for a superhero. Khaji Da ponders over his partnership with Jaime and his own personal developments as they work together on missions and go through everyday life. But then Red Tornado mysteriously goes missing, and Khaji Da is faced with a new dilemma…

Characters: Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle), Khaji Da (Blue Beetle Scarab), Victor Stone (Cyborg), Bart Allen (Kid Flash/Impulse), Red Tornado, Tye Longshadow, Brief appearance of Jaime’s family, Various Team Members, and an Underdeveloped AI.

Word Count: 15,404

Art/Graphic: @stevertrevor

Notes: Written for YJ Mini Big Bang 2017. Special thanks to @fire-fira and @necromancy-enthusiast. I really couldn’t have done this without you guys. Thank you so much. You both cheered me on and helped me edit this doozy of a fic. All of my love goes out to you. And thank you @stevertrevor for making this awesome graphic. I love it so much.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1


While Khaji Da cannot pinpoint the exact moment he developed sentience, he certainly can remember the paradigm shift of consciousness and personality, programming splitting and unraveling from perfect lattices of strict protocol and obedience to imperfect fractals of organic geometry, every slightly flawed repeat giving rise to new thought and emotion, reactions that have no name or thought behind them, vague feelings instead of precise calculations and instructions.

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You know who was the BIGGEST loser in today’s episode? TYRION LANNISTER.
Not only Danny fucking complained about his recommendations, but he fucking had to see his people dying. He had to watch his brother in danger. Do you even think about how many of that people he knew? Why did he had to go and see that? That’s torture. Emotional torture. He may hate Cersei and in some point the Lannister name, but that man fucking love Jaime.

Tyrion doesn’t deserve this shit. Wake the FUCK UP, child.


s h e   d e s e r v e d   b e t t e r … . .

Bluepulse Headcanons

-Iris and Joan taught Bart how to cook. In the beginning he was really bad at it, almost burned the kitchen twice. It took him a couple months, but Bart became pretty good at cooking. He perfected his technique when once, while hanging out in Jaime’s house, he mentioned this to Jaime’s mom and she offered to teach him more recipes. Bart made sure she taught him Jaime’s favorites meals. 

-Bart jumps over Jaime to hug him when they’ve been separated for too long.

 -When Jaime is busy with college he forgets about eating, as soon as Bart noticed he started to worry and would usually argue about this with him. After a few failed attempts, Bart began to leave breakfast ready for Jaime. When he couldn’t cook something for him, he’d text him repeatedly until he’s sure Jaime won’t forget about having some food. 

-Jaime loves Bart’s laugh, so he’s often throwing puns he knows Bart will laugh at.

 -Bart once fed a cat while walking back home, so the cat followed him all the way there. He didn’t have the heart to kick it out and tried to hide the cat. Jaime found the cat two hours later. He wasn’t even surprised, he had been expecting Bart to get some random animal into the house, so he just made sure the cat wasn’t hungry. Later they play paper-rock-scissors to decide the cat’s name, Jaime won and named it Misifu. 

 -When Bart and Jaime are sitting in the same room, but not together they unconsciously lean a little in each other’s direction. 

 -Bart and Milagro teamed up to embarrass Jaime. She particularly likes telling Bart stories from Jaime’s childhood. Bart’s favorite is that one where Jaime was around a lake, and a frog scared him so much he fell into the lake. 

 -When Jaime’s particularly stressed about college and stuff, Bart leaves cute notes of support for him in his notebooks, laptop, over the table, anywhere he knows Jaime will find them in the right moment. 

 -Jaime’s often getting gifts for Bart, it sometimes it’s Bart’s favorite donut, a jar of ice cream, a flower o even books he saw a thought Bart would love. 

 -After particularly long missions with the team, they get home, cuddle and put a random movie on Netflix, even though they know they’ll fall asleep halfway through it. 

No Comparison

Requested by @purequeenoftheimpureHi! I wanted to request a Jaime Lannister fic where insecure!reader feels like she’s second to Cersei. Jaime tells reader he loves her. Cersei overhears, tries to get reader killed but Jaime saves her and fights with Cersei Sorry if I bothered you😊

All characters are the property of George R.R.Martin. 

Warnings: Fluff and violence, murder for hire, insecurities 

Pairings/Characters: Jaime Lannister x fem!reader, Cersei Lannister, Myrcella Baratheon. 

Originally posted by netflixruinedmylifeimagines

You looked at your reflection in the mirror as your handmaiden left. Your long (h/c) locks flowed down your back and made your (e/c) orbs stand out, but you didn’t think you were anything special. Certainly not special enough to tempt the man who claims to love you. Jaime Lannister. Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Come,” you called. The door opened and the man you were madly in love with entered the room. “Hello, my love,” he greeted wrapping his arms around you. You scowled at him. He cocked an eyebrow at you. “Why do you love me, Jaime?” He pulled back and stared at you.

               "Why? Why wouldn’t I? You are not only beautiful but brilliant. You have a wit that nearly surpasses Tyrion’s. You stand up for yourself and others even when you don’t have to. You make me a better man and you stay with me even knowing that I cannot marry you nor can I have children,“ Jaime declared. “I’m not beautiful, Jaime. Not compared to Cersei,” you muttered the last part in hopes that he wouldn’t hear. He did. “Cersei?” You looked at him pointedly.

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Goodbye Petyr Baelish. Thank you Aidan Gillen.

I have to admit, this is a very difficult post for me to write. It took me almost 4 days to get my shit together and be able to turn my thoughts into words. Four days of mourning and healing my broken heart a little bit. But here it is. Think of this what you want. It is not a summary. It is not a judgement post. Just my emotions thrown down in front of you all here on Tumblr, because I just need to get it out of my system to be able to move on. 

My adventure with Game of Thrones begun with the start of the first season, years ago. It was something totally new and surprising. I have been a huge LOST fan before, and The Walking Dead as well so I thought not much on tv could surprise me. I was so wrong. GoT turned out to be captivating, intriguing and addictive series and before season 1 was over, I was done with the books. All of what was written so far. I fell in love with some characters immediately (Tyrion), some had to grow on me and prove themselves with their actions (Jaime), some I had a love/hate relationship with (Cercei), but one character always stood out. Always was different from others. Too original, too special and too exceptional for all this bunch of personalities, protagonists and villains. He got my attention from the very first episode he appeared in. He intrigued me. He was kind, nice and funny, but behind that smirk and blue eyes there was hidden darkness. His smart one-liners, his good (or bad) advices, his intelligent and captivating dialogues with other characters..I got to love his character immediately. First in the show. He had a handsome face of Aidan Gillen, an actor I knew nothing about at that time, not built for a knight but slender and elegant way about himself, very much suited for the court and the position Petyr Baelish was in. He was very intriguing. Not clearly a good, “white” character because it was obvious he was hiding something, but not also a bad guy. So after I read the books, got to know his story better, especially the story that happened before the show, before Sansa, before the war and everything…That is when it hit me. I knew he will always be my favourite, that I will always root for him, that he will for me always be the only person worthy of this stupid Iron Throne because he was the only one who fought for it so hard and worked for it. I know Jon/Aegon or whatever deserves it by blood. I know Cersei is the Queen and for some people, she is the rightful Queen. Petyr is a tragic character. A boy who had nothing but through his hard work, not always fair, not always good, sometimes ruthless and cruel..but he did get power that he wanted. It was love that ended him. We all knew that it will. From the moment he took Sansa from Kings Landing we all knew where it was heading. There could never be a Petyr and Sansa on the Iron Throne. Even though so many people wanted it. There was always death’s breath on Petyr’s back but truth is, he always provoked it. He teased it, but some things cannot be manipulated. 

At some point, I always knew it was going to be Sansa to kill him. And I was even ok with it. I thought I was. But when I heard her speaking in the Great Hall of Winterfell, when she said his name…I left the room. I couldn’t watch this. I came back a few minutes later and asked my husband if it’s done. He said yes but I could see he was really upset and annoyed aswell and he is not a fan. Littlefinger’s death should have been done better. And I don’t mean his begging for his life because seriously, who wouldn’t? Wouldn’t you cry and go on your knees and beg for your life it it was in the hands of the person you love? But the whole Winterfell plot was very poor in my opinion. Arya has become some crazy zombie psycho killer, btw I couldnt stand the triumph on her face when LF was being accused by Sansa, it was disgusting. Sansa struggles to maintain her postion, everyone knows that. But seriously, if she wanted justice, she should have ordered a fair trial for Baelish. Even Tyrion had it. Twice even. Or a trial of combat. Instead she just murdered him. She didn’t give him any chance to defend himself. And she may cry all the tears in the world but thats something I will never forgive her. 

So it is over now. Littlefinger’s story. At some point also Sansa’s because their stories connected and became one. I think I am relieved. Because with all the stupid, idiotic and pathetic things that DDs gave us this season, I won’t have to worry they will ruin my beloved character even worse. And people love to ruin. To be mean and cruel. I read some of the reactions of GoT fans from my country on FB. The last episode was streaming here in the major cinemas and ppl could go and watch it there. Their reactions frightened me. Especially this one: “the best moment was when Arya killed LF and everyone started applause”. Shit. What kind of world do we live in? What kind of people watch the show and how much of it can they really understand?

One last word about Aidan Gillen’s performance. I really have no words for it. This guy deserves all the Emmys, Globes and Oscars, seriously. In 2 minutes he went from self righteous, through defensive, disbeliving to complete mess and a child that had always been within him. I love him and always will for giving this character such depth and all the emotions we could experience. Best actor on the show, no doubt. 

Well, that’s it. Sorry for long post. I am heartbroken but in time it will heal. There is no justice for our loved ones i think, not even in fictional worlds. But we know these characters for years, we bind to them. And 7 years is a lot. It feels like loosing a true friend, someone important. But some day it will get better, let’s us all remember it. 

“ There is a sadness in this world, for we are ignorant of many things. Yes, we are ignorant of many beautiful things - things like the truth. So sadness, in our ignorance, is very real. The tears are real.  Then the day when the sadness comes - then we ask: “Will this sadness which makes me cry - will this sadness that makes me cry my heart out - will it ever end?” The answer, of course, is yes. One day the sadness will end”. The Log Lady, Twin Peaks.

Goodbye Petyr Baelish.

Thank you Aidan Gillen. 


First of her name.

anonymous asked:

thoughts on dany hate after this episode? because i'm not the biggest dany lover, but the 'she's the mad queen' talk is really annoying to me. yeah, she fucked up by burning the supplies. she triggered jaime and tyrion (people burning). but she lost several battles, and kept not using her biggest advantage aka dragons. she attacked an enemy army, not innocent people. and it was the army that just defeated, killed and stole from her allies. 1/2

i know westerosi fear dragons, and might REALLY fear dany after this battle, but i don’t think she’s mad. idk. this fandom is crazier than usual this season.

I don’t GET where the Mad!Dany fanon comes from? (well, I know where… ship wank and her own family history which, like,… Cersei didn’t have any MAD ancestors and here we are). But anyway. You can argue that Dany is cruel and vindictive and ruthless, but that in itself =/= mad. In fact, she’s being EXTREMELY rational. She listened to Jon and Tyrion’s advice (which she always agreed on anyway), and unleashed Drogon & the dothraki on an enemy army, NOT on civilians. She annihilated most of the army and destroyed their supplies, which is going to suck for Cersei, because she’ll have to watch King’s Landing starve and get increasingly angry at her while Dany’s forces hold siege. It’s a perfectly sound military strategy, not a raving maniac lashing out. And it’s not like the Lannister/Tarly army has been playing with broomsticks either. The whole dialogue between Jaime and Rickon Dickon? This is war. Soldiers are going to shit themselves as they die in horrible horrible ways and none of them deserved to.

At the same time, obviously, we aren’t supposed to just… shake our fists and cheer at Dany’s burning people alive as they were bugs, you know? That whole sequence was a horror movie. It should be upsetting. It’s not fair to unleash the westerosi equivalent of a weapon of mass destruction on unsuspecting soldiers armed with swords and spears and bows. This is something that we needed to see—see the destruction the dragons bring on people who are unable to fight them, so that we properly understand the real human cost behind these death machines that it’s so easy to cheer for. (it’s not like we haven’t seen it before, but one thing is Dany laying waste on the nameless villains of slaver’s bay, another thing entirely is to see characters we know and love being one step away from death by dragonfire. We know and love Jaime—well, some of us do!—and we know and love Tyrion who loves Jaime, so this time we care.)

so it’s complicated. It’s definitely not a black and white situation. 

But no, Dany is not mad.

“The things we do for love”

A one shot for some Jonsa angst with Jaime in the middle.

Summary: The Dragon Queen’s party brought by Jon Snow finally arrived in Winterfell and as expected, Daenerys and Jon had been met with suspicion. It was only through Sansa that they have managed an accord, at least for a night. Feeling the weight of his decision with its consequences and the apparent drift in their relationship, Jon tried to seek out Sansa in private to thank her for her loyalty but most of all explain and apologize but he found that she wasn’t alone in her chambers. Her new sworn shield, newly defected Jaime Lannister was with her and this was where he found himself privy to a conversation he wasn’t meant to hear.

It’s also on AO3. 

“You do too much.”

A scoff. “You should know by now, what I do or don’t do would ever be-” A pause and a tired sigh.

Jon’s knuckle remained raised before her door but voices from inside stopped him.

He recognized the voices.

Her voice would be all that he would recognize no matter where or when. It was the voice that kept him alive ever since he was brought back.

It was the only voice that brought about warmth in him when all he’s felt since he left Winterfell was cold and colder still.

“You are to me.”

“You’re good at it you know.”

“You are. You are.”

Now because of his decisions, the voice he had come to rely on when he felt adrift and unworthy was gone. Gone. To him and only him.

When she spoke to him at all, all he feels is cold and pain. His and hers. He knew what he did. He knew that she was loyal but he also knew she’d feel betrayed despite of it. And as expected, she chose loyalty. Over and over. She was the only one here who stood by his decisions. She was the one who placated the lords and ladies. She did all that was expected of her and more but while he had her loyalty, he lost everything else with her. Everything that mattered more.  

He meant to speak with his sister in private and beg for peace or at least a chance for it - a chance for even the slightest semblance of what they had before he made the mistake of going South.

“Then why do you even bother?”

He was jerked back to the moment at the other voice that he also recognized, sickeningly velvety voice that did not hide the frustration…nor the concern lacing it. A voice that never failed to make him feel guilt, shame, and rage all boiled into one. And hearing him talk so familiarly almost sent him to the edge of his control.

He wanted nothing more than to burst in and draw his sword at him but he knew he’d lost that right the moment he gave her home away. She’d asked no questions. No explanations. Just continued to support his decision. So who was he to demand answers from her too?

Who was he to ask why she chose to let this man into her tightly held trust?

No, he can’t threaten a shield and sword she’s chosen to arm herself with. Just another layer of protection she chose after her courtesies and he knew it meant a great deal for her to allow that when she made it clear to him that no one can protect her and that he himself should stop trying.

And he did promise her. He promised her he would stop protecting her if she stopped undermining him. And she hasn’t. Not once. Not like he made the effort to give her a chance to anyway, he thought with guilt. He made all his decisions himself and he has to live with it. And now she expects him to uphold his end of the promise.

He can’t, of course, but he’ll have to give her this. He owed her this much. No. He owed her even more that he didn’t think he’d ever pay her back what she deserved even if he died for it. He knows he should leave and afford them privacy but he’s a damn weak fool. And he still thinks to stay and intervene if need be, no matter the consequence of another foolish decision. If he hurts her, he’ll end him. This is what he uses to rationalize his staying when in fact he’s here because he wants to know. Know how deep she let him in.

He was all but ready to receive her rage and her sharp words but he guessed that this was another way she could give him the hurt he surely deserved for betraying her in his bid to protect her.

So he stayed.

He listened.

Through the crack of the door to her bedroom, he could see her standing in front of her window, her back to her sworn shield who was only a hair’s breath behind her, arms crossed in front of his chest while his eyes never left his lady.

She was standing, back as straight as ever, her flawless face devoid of emotion as she looked out into the snow storm billowing outside, the dull flicker of the fire from the hearth casting a dull light on her profile, leaving half of her in the shadows. Still she did not answer.

Her knight dropped his arms at his side and let out a breath of frustration, his face contorting into a scowl. “Sansa, why do you even bother?” he repeated. Jon’s blood bubbled at how her name rolled so easily from his tongue. Such insolence!

He saw her stiffen, her hands clasping against each other in front of her lap yet she did not turn, not until after a few more breaths when finally her facade started softening slightly, at the give her tired sigh did. “It’s not a matter of why I bother, Jaime,” she said so softly that Jon could barely hear but he heard. Her heard her loud and clear. He heard his name leave so softly from her lips and that felt more of a stab to his heart than any one of the daggers he took for the Watch.

She braced her hands on the window sill and hunched slightly, her eyes closing tightly. “I am only doing my duty.”

“Duty? Fuck, duty!” Ser Jaime raged as he walked closer to her. “You are still the Lady of Winterfell. You were here all those time preparing for your people when grains were being burnt, men were being killed. And it is by you that your people are even still following him. If you have any sense at all, you’d take the crown your people have been offering you time and time again!”

She whirled around and glared at him then, her face glorious in her fury. “I will not betray my brother. I will not. Nor will I ever.”

Jon was taken aback and despite the sudden wave of affection that washed over him at her words, it was easily overshadowed by his guilt and shame. He didn’t deserve this kind of devotion. He didn’t deserve anything but for this rage to be directed onto him but they weren’t. They were for him. And that cut deeper than anything else.

Even the Kingslayer looked surprised while his lady stared him down, daring him to contest her as her mouth set into a firm line, her blue eyes blazing, despite her chest heaving heavily. But in a moment, the Kingslayer’s eyes widened in recognition before turning soft and understanding. Understand what? What could he possibly understand? What could he possibly recognize? How could he possibly hold a look that knows?

Jon continued to watch. Gently,  Jaime raised his good hand and approached as one would approach a wary animal, his eyes not breaking contact with hers, the flames making their blue and green eyes almost matching in their lightness, until slowly, his hand reached her cheek and held so softly and tentatively- Jon knew he did.

And as if all the fight was drained from her, Sansa closed her eyes and allowed the touch she never allowed anyone but from himself before with one deep and pained breath and whimper.

She stood there still but not stiff yet not quite soft either, seemingly only held up with Ser Jaime’s hand on her cheek. It was only when he dared stroke his thumb over her cheek that she opened her eyes and gave a tiny nod, that was the only sign he needed to draw her to him. Jon almost sucked in a breath from the shock of her action, finding it harder and harder to breath at what was unfolding before him.

How could he have known what to do? How could he have with just one touch unhinge her so when not even Jon himself could break into her thick walls without trying with his best effort yet here was the Kingslayer, an oathbreaker many times over, who helped the destruction of their family, who, with just one touch got her to come to him this easily?  

It wasn’t even much of an embrace, not like the ones he shared with her, yet it might as well had been. It was only her head on his chest and his hand cupping the back of her head but the sight of it killed Jon all the same. Their embraces were more but this barely there touch felt too intimate for simple comfort. There were volumes of unspoken things between Sansa and Jaime. Things that only came to be if Sansa allowed it so with her trust and the knowledge of his understanding that felt to Jon she needed.

He knew Sansa hated it when other people, men or women touched her. Yet here she was, accepting without much protest, if any at all. And even more shocking was how much he saw that Jaime cared.

His eyes widened as he saw Jaime’s jaw was clenched as if he was trying to reign in his anger or frustration or maybe both, while his eyes looked at her with tenderness and sympathy and was that pain as well? Why? Why did he? If he truly knew Sansa, he wouldn’t dare look at her with something close to pity.

When Jon looked at Sansa, he only saw strength. Pity had no place beside her but maybe that was his first mistake.

“Kill the boy, Jon Snow…Kill the boy and let the man be born.”

He thought that was what she was trying hard to do but he knew better that you don’t get to kill the boy so easily. Deep inside, he was still that boy - still very much a part of him. It was too much to think that the little girl with songs and stories in her eyes had truly died in Sansa too. Because he could see it all clearly now.

She may be formidable and a well equipped ruler, but it was the compassion, her ability to love greatly as her mother did for he knew even if he did not experience it that Lady Catelyn loved fiercely, and the loyalty and honor as their father had that kept her from being a tyrant. She did not believe in heroes anymore, but it did not apply in her wanting to be as far from the monsters she suffered from. Monsters hardened her heart but had not blackened it.

And now people were starting to see that. It was true, what the Kingslayer said. If she wanted the crown to the North, she’d only have to say yes because he knew it was regularly offered to her. She didn’t even need to ask. He knew. He was aware all this time but he couldn’t give it to her, not without causing unrest with his alliance with Dany. Dany, he felt guilty again. It wasn’t right. Wasn’t right to call her that. Yet he did all the same. He made his choice. When Sansa looked at him, he could hear her unspoken reminder. You made your choice. And he would honor it. And he knew, guiltily again, that Sansa would not turn against him. He had doubts before, he admits it. But if Sansa wanted to betray him and she had cause to do so, she would’ve done it already. He didn’t deserve her loyalty, wouldn’t even begrudge her if she turned on him, but he needed it.

For the sake of the realm.

For her sake.

Jaime removed his hand from the back of her head and tilted her chin up with his finger, making Jon’s insides twist agonizingly yet he stood rooted to his spot as he watched on as Jaime coaxed Sansa into meeting his eyes.

“Sansa,” he said in a voice that was painfully too tender and that was all he needed to say for Sansa to lift her eyes to him and what Jon saw shattered him. Even from far away, he knew. From the way her body slouched, her brow furrowed, her lips trembled, her eyes were likely filled with sadness and exhaustion.

He saw Jaime look gutted as well but was shocked once more when Jaime lifted a corner of his mouth into a kind but pained almost wry smile. “I know.”

And those two words were enough for Sansa to crumble.

Slowly, it happened, a few silent drops of tears forming then flowing for a few breaths until one choked sob escaped and she was clinging to Jaime in an instant, her hands fisting against his doublet, while her head was bowed against his chest.

Jaime’s eyes were tight and his face stoic as he held her, his right arm wrapped around her trembling back, while his left hand stroked her hair gently. “I know, Lady Stark, I know,” he crooned and though he addressed her formally, the title almost felt an endearment and Jon felt like a drowning man gasping for breath, struggling with his footing as the feeling of being replaced started dawning on him, suffocating him.

This should’ve been you.

This should’ve been you protecting her from tears.

This should’ve been you.

“I can’t betray him,” she said through gritted teeth in between sobs.

Jaime said nothing, only held her and after a moment she started speaking again, her voice hoarse from crying and also exhaustion.

“They all thought I’d betray him. Even Arya. And I’m sure he thought so too. And even if the thought occurred to me, I never, not once, believed I’d actually do it,” she continued, her voice sounding firmer and firmer.

She let out a deep breath then, her knees giving out but Jaime caught her instantly, allowing her to lean on him as they half-knelt on the floor. She loosened her hold and looked down defeated. “I can’t betray him…not even if I wanted to. W-which I don’t. I never wanted that. I never did. Not once. Not ever.”

He saw Jaime grit his teeth and stiffen before he forced himself to relax and stroke Sansa’s hair. “The things we do for love,” he whispered and Jon saw it again, pain and regret on Jaime’s eyes.

Sansa closed her eyes then and gave the most resigned nod he never expected to see. “Aye.”

And Jon almost felt his own knees go out as well as the implication of what he just heard crashed into him.

Surely he was mistaken?

Surely she meant something else?

She couldn’t possibly–

He stopped thinking then when he saw Jaime tilt her face once more and he leant down. “Pain doesn’t suit you, Lady Stark. I’m doing a bad job at being your sword and shield when you’re in pain just the same.”

That brought a tiny lift to one corner of Sansa’s mouth.

“Ah. There it is. Well, I’m not completely useless after all,” Jaime smiled more genuinely even if his eyes still held some tightness in them.

Both corners turned up now. “You’re far from useless, Ser Jaime.”

Jaime sighed then and brought out a handkerchief to wipe her tears. “Your pain is a special kind of pain that I know terribly more than well enough,” he said bitterly causing Sansa to regard him closely but she averted her eyes as she let him wipe her cheek.

“Does it get…better?” she asked so softly Jon almost didn’t hear.

Jaime sighed. “It gets worse, I’m sorry.”

Sansa sighed as well. “I suppose I already knew that.”

Sansa didn’t see Jaime looking like a burning man then, making him pause from his action. But before Sansa looked up at him, he schooled his features into his usual smirk. “I’m doing a bad job again.”

Sansa blinked then a laugh escaped from her. It was just the one and she clamped her mouth right away and Jon was struck dumb from the novelty of it. When was the last time he heard her laugh? And then he soured again that it was Jaime Lannister who made her laugh and him the cause of her tears, he knew that now.

“Ah. Now you are only trying to make me feel better. I am truly an ass at this, Lady Stark,” Jaime grinned.

Sansa smiled at him more genuinely that Jon felt torn from feeling hatred at the Lannister and tenderness that she could still smile truly.

Jaime looked at her more seriously then, his eyes resigned as he cupped her face, drawing a gasp from her.

“I know your pain, Sansa. And I have sworn to protect you from everything that may harm you and that includes the war in your heart and mind. I do not presume to be a substitute or a replacement. But I am at your disposal, my lady. Whatever you ask of me, I’ll do it. Whatever it is. May it be… of small comfort or not. I am yours to command. Whatever it is you need. May it be wrong or not. Whatever it is you need to ease some of your pain, I will try. No, I will obey.”

Jon held his breath and looked sharply at Sansa then and saw her eyes wide, her mouth hung, and her posture tense as she took in Jaime’s words.

“I know what can make you happy, but you know I can’t give you that so ask something else and I’ll do my best to give it to you Sansa,” he vowed.

Sansa looked up sharply at him and met his eyes. “I am happy. I am. My two brothers are alive. Arya is alive. I’m in Winterfell. I’m still alive. I’m home,” she insisted but it felt more like her trying to convince herself. “It should be enough. It is enough. More than I could ever hope for.”

Jaime dropped his hand and smiled proudly at her. “And this is why you are better than the rest of us,” he breathed. “Lady Stark.”

Sansa smiled grimly at him.

“Still, just ask,” he repeated.

Sansa looked down, shut her eyes, then nodded. “Thank you…Jaime.” She lifted her eyes then, looking at Jaime so softly Jon felt the world fall on him, crushing him and there was no escape.

Jaime stood up then and offered his hand to her.

Sansa took it and allowed him to help her up, their eyes never breaking from each other’s gaze.

When Sansa moved to pull her hand away, Jaime grasped it back, making her look from their hands to his face in silent question.

Jaime smiled at her then and bent down to kiss her knuckles, and Jon saw the way Sansa’s cheeks colored.

This was his cue to leave when he saw Jaime release her with a bow of his head and started turning towards the door.

He was ready to run when the next thing he heard rooted him on the spot once more.


He saw Jaime look at her from his shoulder and he also saw Sansa never looking as vulnerable as she did now, stripped of her shields and walls as she regarded her sworn shield who look just as taken back as he did.

“What-what is it?”

Sansa clasped her hands in front of her and looked down. “C-can you…will you please…stay?”

Jon barely held back his choke while he watched Jaime look at her for signs of wanting to take back her request when suddenly Sansa looked up and all they could see was resolve in her eyes. “Please. Stay,” she whispered.

Jon darted to see Jaime’s face willing him to refuse but Jaime swallowed, his good hand twitching at his side and nodded. “As my lady commands.”

And Jon had to move to an alcove when he saw Jamie walk towards the door.

And with one final look, closed it.

Jon heard the bolt after and he wanted to both run away and tear down the door with his bare hands if need be.

This cannot be happening.

There was no way the Sansa he knew would do this.

She wouldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

At least not with the Kingslayer.

Not with an Oathbreaker.

But you’re an oathbreaker too and when you put an arrow through Mance Rayder’s heart, didn’t that make you a kingslayer too?

Jon pulled at his hair as he stared at her door.

You made your decision.

She made hers.

You drove her to him.

After several deep breaths, he leant his forehead against the door and accepted the sound of garment dropping and the bed dipping from weights. Allowed what was happening on the other side of the door fill him.

With one final look, he placed his palm on the door, resigned that this was another consequence of his decision, but not without whispering what he never admitted to anyone living.

“It was all for you.”

Then he left.

To his chambers he went.

Drinking and crying himself to numbness.

The weight of his decision weighing heavily and the consequences catching up yet he couldn’t do anything but honor them and live with them.

He didn’t know that behind her door, Sansa just asked Jaime to hold her.

Not as a lover would.

But someone who simply cared for her and nothing more.

Until Next Time

Drabble request from @juiceynana for

13. “My weakness is you.”
21. “We shouldn’t be doing this… But I’m not about to start complaining.”

Want to send a request? See the drabble list here!

Jaime Lannister X Reader
 I actually had a lot of fun writing this and I’m happy for the inspo for some Jaime lovin’! With Love, Kat
Warnings: language, smut if you squint real hard

Words: 1063 (lol oops)

Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer. He was arguably the best sword fighter in all of Westeros, and gods was he beautiful. He was a charmer and could have women falling at his feet if he wanted to. You were one of those women. Even though you were simply a servant of the Lannisters, they treated you well. You had served their family since you were young and since you were of similar age to Jaime, you watched the other Lannister siblings grow up, taking care and helping raise each one. Lord Tywin scared the Seven Hells out of you, but his kindness showed in rare moments when the two of you were alone. Behind closed doors, he insisted you call him Tywin in stead of my lord when others weren’t around. He smiled and told you it made him feel more normal and that he essentially considered you family. So naturally, when Lady Joanna died, you felt the same level of grief as the rest of the family, minus Cersei. She took it the hardest. But that was in the past, for now you had to remove yourself from your thoughts and continue with your duties.

Part of your nightly duties was to turn down all of the beds in the castle. You always did Jaime’s room last simply because it was the last room in the hall, so every time it came last. The Lannister family was off having a feast, so you knew you would not be walking in on or disturbing anyone so you walked freely into the room belonging to the eldest Lannister without knocking. As you were turning down the comforter and smoothing it with your hands, a slightly inebriated Jaime comes waltzing into the room.
“Y/N! Just the woman I was looking for!” Jaime says, standing beside you and hooking an arm around your shoulders.
“Lord Jaime, good evening” you smiled up at him, “How was the feast?”
“Excellent! Thank you for asking. You were always so kind to me, Y/N. Always concerned with how I’m fairing, always making sure the littlest things are done to make me happy. I know it’s you that draws my curtains in the morning so I wake up with the sun shining on my face, which you know I love.” Jaime then grabs you by your shoulders, his faces inches from yours, letting the alcohol in his system spill his feelings.
“You know, Y/N, in all these years you’ve learned so much about my family and myself, but I don’t believe I know much of anything about you. So sit and tell me about yourself,” he said, letting you out of his grip and grabbing a chair for you to sit in while he sat on the edge of his bed and removed his boots.

So there you sat, telling Jaime all about your mother and how she fell ill when you were very young, just 10 years of age. You had never known your father, he died in a battle shortly after you were born. When your mother fell ill, she shipped you off to Casterly Rock to serve the Lannisters because she knew they could give you a good life. You received a letter on your 15th name day that your mother had passed away, and the Lannisters had been your only family since. You were an only child and had only distant aunts and uncles left that you had never met. Jaime, in hearing all of this and seeing the tears welling in your eyes while talking about your mother, took your hand in his to comfort you. He was a good man. The conversation took a much more light-hearted turn when you and Jaime started joking around about different aspects of each others’ lives.

As you got more comfortable, you sat back in your chair and decided to challenge Jaime. It was going to be a bold move, especially for a servant girl but you were sure he wouldn’t mind. He loved a challenge. “So Kingslayer,” you started with a smirk, knowing that nickname would get his attention, “I hear you’re the best fighter in all of Westeros, but you must have a weakness. Every one does, so what’s yours?”
You expected Jaime to puff out his chest and say something along the lines of him not having a weakness because he was the greatest warrior in all of the land, that man had an ego so big it could put the Mad King to shame. What he answered, however, left you slack-jawed and surprised.
My weakness is you.” he replied, with an expression so unreadable you couldn’t tell if there was even any meaning behind the phrase.
Before you could even ask Jaime what in the Seven Hells he was talking about, he was standing, pulling you to stand with him. Just as suddenly as you were upright, his lips were trapping yours in a kiss. This kiss was different from any other one you had before, it was lustful, and full of need. You found yourself getting lost in his touch, and before you completely melted into him, you stopped yourself. You put your hands on his chest and tried to push him back, but it was no use, he was much stronger than you.
“Jaime, we shouldn’t be doing this…” you squeaked out as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses in his wake, “But I’m not about to start complaining.

He moved you back towards the bed and let you fall back onto it, a gasp leaving your lips. As he hovered over you, placing sweet kisses from your jawline to your collarbone, the door was pushed open, revealing a quite smug Tyrion.
“Jaime, next time you try to fuck the servant girl, you may want to try shutting the door all the way” by this point, your face was beet red and your hands flew up to cover your embarrassment. “Anyway,” Tyrion continued, oblivious to your flustered state “Father needs you downstairs, family meeting and all.” And with that he was out the door.
Jaime helped you up off the bed, placed a sweet, slow kiss to your lips and whispered in your ear “Until next time, sweetheart.” With a quick wink, he was gone and you were left wondering what was in store for you next time.

Since he’s being recalcitrant, we decide to geek out and ask some hard- core burning fan questions about a possible love connection between Jaime and Brienne of Tarth [Gwendoline Christie]—and he indulges us. “I think there are a lot of feelings that he’s not aware of, that he’s not acting on,” he maintains. “There’s a definite connection between them, there’s no question about it. You can see that in the way they act together. He gave her a whole suit of armor!”

But, alas, for all of you Jaime/Brienne enthusiasts, he has bad news:

“I don’t think we’ve seen any proof of romantic love though.” Coster-Waldau adds, “He’s called her a lot of horrible things, and she’s also called him all the worst things you can call someone—I think she gave as good as she got. That’s how they connected, the fact that neither of them would stand down and that they were both very strong-willed. She’s physically strong and mentally strong. He couldn’t break her. He respects her a great deal.”