An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
**update :)
Chapters: 9/?
Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Characters: Jaime Lannister, Brienne of Tarth, Tyrion Lannister, Sansa Stark, Tormund Giantsbane, Podrick Payne, Davos Seaworth, Samwell Tarly
Additional Tags: Romance, Mutual Pining, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Canon? Don't Know Her, Loyalty, Idiots in Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Deviates From Canon, Sensuality, sexual innuendo, Domestic Fluff, Pillow Talk, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, Touch-Starved, tending injuries, Masturbation, Banter, Jaime Lannister Lives, Romantic Introspection
Summary:
He he kisses her with oaths of love. Filled with thoughts he cannot give to words, he lets his actions speak. He gives. He fell long ago, but at last able to embrace and revel, he sings love songs composed only for her. Her, with love songs preciously taken, a part of her previously hidden from the world unlocks. As he gives and dances with her, they fall deeper. He stays by her side.
***
An exploration and introspective look at Ser Jaime Lannister's love story with the Lady Brienne of Tarth after his arrival at Winterfell. How they learn to act as gleeful lovers do, how Jaime learns to stay and Brienne to give, and how they learn together what it means to build something to last.
a Doctor Strange x Reader fic by sobeautifullyobsessed based on this imagine
Frustration. Uselessness. Shame. Each feeling overwhelmed you in turn, as you tried to put the day behind you, while seeking the solace that only sleep might offer--if you got lucky enough not to dream your spectacular failure again and again through the night. Such nightmares would leave you nowhere to hide, as deep as you might burrow your head into your pillow. Perhaps it would be best to depart Bleecker Street and return to Kamar-Taj right now, despite the instructions your Sanctum Master had issued.
The inescapable memories were fresh enough to make you relive the last few minutes of the ferocious melee: the sounds of battle raging all around you, the air thick with acrid smoke, and the sulphurous stench--which had already overwhelmed several of your fellow Adepts—burning your eyes, as you strained to keep the reptilian marauders at bay long enough to allow the Masters to destroy the wormhole connected to Earth’s core.
Determined, but—frankly—very frightened in the face of this ultimate test of your skills, you had spread your Shield of Seraphim wider than ever before, holding the line while seeking to bridge the gaps left by the fallen. You bore the growing strain with every ounce of strength in your body, willing yourself to stand firm—until an unpleasant, chittering sound invaded your mind, disrupting your concentration, making you momentarily falter from your defensive stance. A scabrous arm snaked around you, and the creature’s hot breath on your neck was the only warning of its intent; to save yourself from its deadly bite, you were forced to drop your shield, freeing your hands to pry loose the enemy’s grip.
Several of the same hellish monstrosities swarmed through the opening you left in the battle line, as you struggled against the creature attacking you. At such close quarters, it was impossible for you to employ your mystical defenses, leaving you to fall back on the martial arts training that had been drilled into you in your early days at Kamar-Taj. You finally managed to cast off the wily beast, sending it plummeting over the side of the precipice, but not before its wicked claws left both of your shoulders lacerated--soaking your tunic in blood. You felt no pain—probably due to the adrenaline flooding your veins--but the sight of your own blood saturating your clothing, surprised and shocked you enough to make the reality around you darken, reducing your sight to a pinhole, before you fainted dead away.
The battle had peaked, and then turned in favor of Earth’s forces--despite your categorical failure—while you had lain unknowing, upon the ground. You awoke gradually, feeling like someone had lodged a spike in your brain, the throbbing of your lacerations now more insistent than your own heartbeat. You had never known such cruel thirst, and you whimpered hopelessly, too weak to even call for help. At some point, you relapsed into semi-consciousness.
You would never be able to say for sure how much time passed as you lay there unmarked, unattended. Eventually you saw a figure approach, as you watched dispassionately, not daring to hope you’d finally been found. His striking face was lit with the firelight that flared in dozens of places amid the dying battle’s heat, and you recognized him with a sort of dread—thinking he would know of how you had let him and your fellow sorcerers down as soon as he looked upon you, as your failure had to be written indelibly upon your face. There was little breeze, but his trademark Cloak billowed behind him anyway, adding to his mystique, making him appear even more dashing and heroic. You briefly considered rolling your body over the cliff edge, desperate to hide your shame. Instead, you closed your eyes and turned your head to the side.
You felt him looming over you, speaking you name with urgent concern; the velvet of his smooth baritone speaking your name, almost like a dream come true. He crouched beside you, shaking you gently to rouse you from your seeming stupor. “Adept Y/N, are you awake?” His skilled fingers sought the pulse in your neck, and your heart raced with the thrill of the contact of his skin with yours—so that you gave yourself away with a little moan at the guilty pleasure of it, even in the midst of such disastrous conditions.
Compelled as much by his very presence, as by his expert, doctor’s touch, you rolled your head and opened your eyes, unable to speak in the face of his genuine alarm on your behalf, accented with his battle-tried beauty. You sobbed with remorse, seeing the bloody gash on his cheek and his split lips, a bruise already darkening the shelf of his jaw; you took in the multiple rents in his tunic, running across his shoulders and the length of his torso, and tears welled from your eyes. His injuries were surely your fault, having failed at so a crucial moment, unable to hold the line beside your fellow Adepts, the force of the onslaught of such dark minions proving too much for your meager magic to handle.
Yet there was only concern in Strange’s remarkable eyes, not the scorn or recrimination you so richly deserved. Ordinarily, having his handsome face this close to yours was only something from your most secret fantasies--but no fantasy had you envisioning it amidst a mystical battle. Despite everything around you, your heart still fluttered like a schoolgirl’s in the presence of her first crush, testament to your ridiculousness. You wished you could melt into the quaking ground beneath you, rather than bear his rightful admonishment for your failure. “Doctor Strange,” you had blubbered, “I’m so sorry, Sir…I…I…” There existed no words to convey the depth of your ignominy and regret, yet you heard yourself beg him, “Forgive me, please…I swear I tried my best…I’m just…oh god, I’ve never been good enough…” You squeezed your eyes shut and turned your face away, thinking to hide your tears of shame.
Strange grunted softly, and you nearly melted for real when he turned your face back to him, his long, elegant fingers warming your skin, reminding you of his vitality and all the quiet longings you harbored in your soul. “Nonsense, Y/N. You did well, very well.” You blinked your eyes open, and your tears ran freely--despite your will to hide them--tracing tracks upon your ash darkened cheeks. He cocked a brow, studying the pain in your eyes, and offered reassurance—and an absolution you could not truly deserve, “There’s nothing to apologize for, honey. You were more than enough. We’ve beaten them back, the wormhole is destroyed, and Earth is safe.” Sensing your doubt in yourself, Strange offered further comfort, “We succeeded as a team—and your part in our victory was a vital one.”
You laid one arms across your eyes, feeling undeserving of his kindness, wishing you could turn back time and do far better for his sake alone. Strange paused several breaths, then asked if you could sit up. When you tried, a harsh wave of dizziness caught you unprepared, and you fell back onto the ground. “Alright then,” he averred calmly, “There’s still some skirmishing around us, so we need to get you someplace safe. You’ve stopped bleeding, honey—but I’ll take a closer look at your wounds later.” He slid an arm beneath you, helping you to sit up, and you heard and felt a whoosh of warm air swirl beside you—and Cloak settled around your shoulders, even as Strange withdrew the support of his arm. “Cloak’s going to fly you far enough from her to be safe,” he advised you, “Just relax and enjoy the ride, okay?”
You nodded obediently, sinking into the warm embrace of the Cloak of Levitation, wondering how you’d gotten lucky enough for such an honor, whispering your thanks too softly for Strange to hear, as he turned his attention back to more important matters. Cloak zipped you along, and your concerns and fear dissolved for a time, as you felt the life force animating the garment, and you recognized it bore Strange’s scent—a manly combination of his body wash and aftershave, of the coffee laced with chicory you’d seen him drink a dozen times, with hints of spearmint from the chewing gum he often favored, and the most delicious, subtle residue of his unique and brilliant magics that had somehow woven itself deep into Cloak’s fibers. You sighed as Cloak deposited you carefully on a bed of something similar to grass, knowing it would return to the Master it had chosen to serve, leaving you with the fleeting feeling of Cloak’s affection for the same man that had claimed your own heart, without even trying.
The events of the past several hours overwhelmed you at last, stealing your consciousness once again—but as you went, you numbered Doctor Strange’s words to you, committing them to memory eternal…realizing with astonishment that he had actually called you honey. Not once, but twice—like an odd, unlikely dream, and surely springing from a place of pity and kindness, but like a very sweet and satisfying dream, nonetheless...
@verumace: ( i logged on just to throw this meme at you :3c ) ‘ date ? ’
Send me “Date?” and i’ll answer…
Who asks for it:
[x] Your muse asks mine
[x] My muse asks yours
- BOTH! At once! Or rather it’s been in each of their minds to sort of have an official outing of a sort. Maybe Rapunzel makes a joke about how all they’ve done is kiss and she still doesn’t know much about him and he rubs his stupid goatee and she’s just *BLINKS* soooo... do .... youuu.... want toooo??? hang??? out???? (bitch)
Type of date:
[x] Platonic Date
[x] Romantic Date
[x] First Date
[ ] Double date with: ____ & ____
- Rapunzel puts a lot of effort on their first date but she reeeeaaallly tries not to make a big deal out of it but she does. Oh god does she dooo. New dress. BATHING??? CLEAN FINGERNAILS?? no paint. Doesn’t smell like she’s rolled around in a jar of the stuff? WEARS SHOES? She tries to look the nicest for him.
Location for the date:
[ ] Movies
• [ ] Movies
• [ ] Romantic Comedy
• [ ] Adventure Movie
• [ ] Animation (Pixar/Disney)
• [ ] Horror
• [ ] Drama
• [ ] Buddy Movie
• [ ] ___ (other options)
[x] Restaurant
• [x] Expensive/High Class
• [x] Small and familiar
• [ ] Fast Food
[x] Nature
• [x] Beach
• [x] Park
• [x] Forest
[x] Visiting a Museum
[ ] Visiting an amusement park
[ ] Visiting a haunted location
[x] Staying at home
• [ ] Watching movies
• [ ] Playing Video Games
• [x] Reading
[x] HE IS A MAN OF CLASS and would probably enjoy a nice restaurant setting. Candles. Wine. All that. but also she’s sooo much more in her element when she IS running around throwing caution to the wind and he enjoys that MORE I BET.
The date might hopefully end with…
[x] …holding hands
[x] …a kiss
[x] …in bed
[x] …knowing each other better
[x] …sleepover between friends
[ ] …a marriage proposal (LISTEN)
[ ] ___
