westerosoliviapope
Scandal Westeros
Modern ASOIAF AU in a "Scandal" setting with Sarella Sand as Olivia Pope. An aggressively detailed worldbuilder who occasionally writes stories. Anti no one. Too old for this shit & doing it anyway.
https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623448
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Welcome to the Jungle (Westeros with a The Gentlemen twist)
Captain Jaime Lannister returns to Casterly Rock to bury his father. Instead, he ends up tangled in the Westerosi underworld when he (instead of his twin sister and her oaf husband) inherits the family estate—and the marijuana farm underneath, operated by the cool and cunning Arianne Martell.
(A non-Scandal Westeros idea that has been stalking me since I watched The Gentlemen on Netflix.)
#asoiaf modern au#the gentlemen netflix#jaime lannister#cersei lannister#robert baratheon#arianne martell
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From the Scandal Westeros Drafts Folder...
She gazes straight through the mirror, imagining exactly where Stannis sits. "My husband was an energetic, virile man. I enjoyed our intimacy very much."
Davos sighs, running an anxious finger over his missing joints. "Mrs. Baratheon, can you understand why someone familiar with your husband's…proclivities would find this hard to believe?"
"Don't say another bloody word, Margaery."
"If my dear good brother wants to have a contest to decide who's better acquainted with Renly's cock, let's do it face to face instead of hiding behind a lackey like a craven."
(Uh oh. Somebody is not having any of Stannis' shit in the next update. LOL)
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The Baratheon Brood?
Thinking of featuring the Baratheon bastards in my next story. So far, we've met Edric (an investment banker who miiiiight cause some problems for Renly and Margaery - Gala At the God's Eye). And I referenced Gendry in passing (as the Brotherhood Without Banners advocate that Arya's in an on-and-off relationship with - The Snake & The Wolf).
Maybe it's time to meet Gendry on the page and flesh him out a little (get ready for some #Gendrya) and get some tidbits about Mya (who does competitive rock climbing and owns a couple of climbing gyms in the Vale).
And Bella is the most well-known exotic dancer in Maidenpool (think J. Lo in Hustlers) known for top-tier pole work. And Barra... Idk. If I use her, it might be in some extreme opposite of sex work. Like maybe growing up in a brothel would make her go in a completely different direction?
We'll see.
#scandal westeros characters#scandal westeros#modern asoiaf au#modern westeros#modern westeros au#house baratheon#baratheon bastards
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Sarella Sand Olivia Pope | Scandal Westeros
Westeros' Resident Fixer. Citadel Alumni. Daughter of Summer Isles High Court Justice Jolona Qo and Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne.
Warrior in a Suit.
#sarella sand#sarella sand fanfic#sand snakes#sand snake fanfic#dorneuniverse#modern westeros#modern dorne#scandal westeros
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RIP Scandal!Renly.
Scandal!Soundtracks - Renly x Margaery
"It's like you're my mirror
My mirror staring back at me
I couldn't get any bigger
With anyone else beside of me..."
The band sang "Mirrors" when Margaery and Renly shared their first dance as husband and wife in front of 2,000 guests at the Highgarden Historical Society (formerly Highgarden Castle).
"How appropriate," former PM Olenna Tyrell mumbled into her glass of brandy. She often said the Baratheon boy loved nothing more than his own reflection.
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May or may not be toying with an Edric/Margaery short. May or may not need to warm up my sm*t writing for...
"What the bloody hell is this?"
She was in her dressing room at Storm's End, fresh after a bout vomiting when Renly stormed in that morning, shirtless with pajama pants slung low on his sculpted torso, holding the ultrasound photo as if it burned his fingers.
She pulled her Ralph Lauren sheath off the hanger. It would do quite nicely. Especially with her gold stag brooch. "A boy," she sang. "Doesn't that speck on the bottom look like a penis? How do you feel about Orys Gwayne?"
"Stop fucking around, Margaery. What have you done?"
"What I always do. Make you look good."
"I told you no procedures. It can't get out that I can't—"
"I didn't have a procedure."
For all the whispers of her husband being an empty-headed action figure, he was a stellar mathematician. His eyes squinted in recognition, even as he growled his denial. "You didn't."
"What?" Margaery blinks innocently. "Get a proper fuck for the first time in gods know when with the bonus of a little blue-eyed, black-haired Baratheon in my belly? I most certainly did."
And gods, was it transcendent. His size. His stamina. Edric Storm was Stag, through and through.
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You don't amass a fortune in as little time as Petyr Baelish has without being shrewd. He's doing what anyone in power would do to someone over whom they have an advantage. Exploit it.
He thinks she's the same silly girl who married Joffrey. Who thought having her wedding photos featured in VOGUE meant she'd made it. Who, on her worst days, bore her hidden bruises as the price she paid for a good life.
He thinks, leveled with the threat of her relationship with Sandor—a literal dream compared to what she endured with Joffrey—going public, she'll balk.
He is gravely mistaken.
Brave Bird (A Scandal Westeros Bonus Cut) on AO3.
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Watching Formula 1: Drive to Survive reminded me that racing is Dorne's sport of choice in Scandal Westeros.
A Dorne F1 AU perhaps?
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Scandal Westeros | Justin Massey
"Get this," Jon says. "She wants to say she cheated. They matched her with that tech twat, Justin Massey. Running with the 'she fell for a free spirit after feeling stifled by the demands of politics' story."
From the tidbits about Massey in the media, he's as much of an attention whore as Greyjoy. A tech founder who styles himself like a rock star, waist-length hair and all. He bought Joffrey and Sansa's old penthouse after months of no one wanting to touch it, and made sure the gossip rags knew he overpaid. A man like that would love nothing more than to get into a cock-measuring contest with a sitting councilman.
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He basks in the Crownlands' sunshine and takes a cleansing puff from his cigar while his good-brother takes his turn on the grill. In the distance, Jon and Bran dribble a futbol up and down the shore. Last he saw Rickon, he and Shireen were heading down to the game room to play billiards, a lie revealed by the eager twinkle in his baby brother's eye and the near hour since. Sansa will clobber him if she realizes he's defiled her new billiards table and Robb, for one, would happily watch her hand Rickon his arse.
She put her heart and soul into designing her new home—a seven bedroom on three acres just north of King's Landing—and it showed. In true Sansa fashion, she married the warmth of Winterfell with the modern aesthetic of the glass box she shared with Joffrey to create something that felt like her. Down to the couch cushions and the elegant dog hotel and playground in the backyard where the Stark pups fight and frolic, reunited after well over a year.
Warrior in a Suit (Scandal Westeros Finale) on AO3.
Sansa's new house in Connecticut The Crownlands. A vast improvement over her King's Landing penthouse of horrors.
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Scandal Westeros | Roslin Frey
Roslin Frey, previously known as the morning anchor on WKLN news and fiancee of Northern Councilman Robb Stark, shocked the world this week when she sat down for a live episode of the hit podcast, "TeaTime with Taena."
In what turned into an hour-long tell-all, the anchor confessed that an ongoing affair with bad boy tech mogul Justin Massey effectively ended her engagement to Councilman Stark.
"All my life, I played things safe. I did what my family told me, then what society told me… 'Be a good girl. Go to this school. Date this man. Pick this career. Have it all. Be grateful.' For once, I wanted to be the one to throw caution to the wind and just TAKE something for myself. So… I let things happen. I'm not proud of it but… by the time I left Lys, I didn't want to wake up in a world where Justin wasn't."
Warrior in a Suit (Scandal Westeros Finale) on A03
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IN THE LATEST UPDATE:
Roslin Frey has a new attitude.
Sansa's got a new house.
An old foe is back on Robb's radar as he gets back to focusing on family.
In Dorne, a Sand Snake decides enough is enough of her father.
Margaery Tyrell has a fleeting moment in the sun.
#scandal westeros#modern westeros au#modern westeros#modern asoiaf#modern asoiaf au#modern asoiaf au fanfic
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Guess which power couple is making their on-page debut in the next chapter?
__
Scandal Westeros | Roasts as a love language
Tyene Sand & Dagos Manwoody
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Sansa's new house in Connecticut The Crownlands. A vast improvement over her King's Landing penthouse of horrors.
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The Heir & Her Dragon (Modern Arianne x Viserys)
As much as he loves cunt—and Prince Viserys Targaryen loves a tight, wet cunt more than most—nothing quite compares to having his cock swallowed by a strong jaw.
Gods know there's little to love in this miserable sand dune. You can't step outside for five bloody minutes without getting sunburned. Food that doesn't set your mouth and lower intestines on fire is too much to ask. Don't get him started on the vulgarity; the neon sports cars and the gaudy gold jewelry. The water's too hard, the wine too dry, and the women—not that he has access to women outside the palace, his jailers see to that—but he saw the dignitaries who clomped through the palace in their draped fabrics with their noses in the air as if they're Princess Nymeria reincarnated. If he were honest with himself, which he rarely is, he would admit they all remind him too much of the smirking bitch who has had his brother—king of one of the greatest dynasties the world has ever seen—by the hair of his balls for over 30 years. It's no wonder Dornish men know their way around cocks, they probably take it up the ass from their women.
The man between his legs this morning is Bedwyn. Literally, Bedwyn. Twenty-one with a firm ass and a jawline straight off a statue of the Warrior himself. He even knows how to use his teeth, the light scrape along the head before taking the full length back down his throat has release tingling in Viserys' balls. Fuck. He grabs a fistful of coarse black hair and bucks, groaning as Bedwyn gags around his dick. Gods, he's gonna spill down this little slut's throat. Or maybe on his face. He can just see his seed sliding down the young man's chiseled jaw…
Naturally, he doesn't notice Oberyn Martell, dressed in his signature black slacks, jacket, and shirt unbuttoned down to his clavicle, watching the action like it's a futbol game or the formula races the Dornish can't get enough of. That is, until Viserys finds his wet cock standing in the open air as Bedwyn scrambles around the suite for his clothes, stuttering apologies to "His Prince."
Seven fucking hells.
Smoke. That's what he needs. If he has to talk to this man while his balls shrivel like prunes, he refuses to be sober. Not when the memory of waking up tied to a chair in a damp basement with a sack over his head is never too far behind the sound of Oberyn's voice.
"It appears you have been a very bad dragon, Prince Viserys…"
He doesn't bother to cover himself. Fuck that—these are his quarters. Instead, he takes a long drag of sweet lotus leaf, blowing out tangy smoke as he finally speaks. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
For all the nonsense about him being a viper, Oberyn moves more like a jungle cat. Graceful, predatory, as he strolls in the room with a hand in his pocket. "I see you are enjoying Sunspear's charms."
"Few and far between that they are—FUCK!" Viserys snaps. Oberyn's snatched open the drapes, bathing the room in the harsh Dornish sunlight, revealing the empty vodka bottles, half-smoked joints, and haphazardly discarded clothes strewn about. Bedwyn never did get around to cleaning.
"Do you think Sunspear is your whore house, Viserys?"
From the man who littered the place with his byblows? "That's fucking rich," Viserys grumbles. When the room goes eerily silent and he finds Oberyn staring two black, beady viper eyes through his forehead, he realizes his carelessness. But he doesn't back down. Staring down an infamous psychopath or not, he is a prince of House Targaryen. He bows to no one.
A pesky voice in the back of his head reminds him he'll bow to his soon-to-be wife.
Not to-bloody-fucking-day.
Despite the twitch in Oberyn's jaw, he remains still. Too still, if you ask Viserys. He looks ready to strike. "Need I remind you why you're here? Or how quickly your fortunes will change should my family rescind our gracious hospitality?"
Images of Rhaegar's dead-eyed rage demanding his prick placed on a spike outside Dragonstone make Viserys shudder. "No."
Oberyn nods. "Your valet will be up in five to get you dressed. It's Solstice Family Portrait day."
Oh, fuck him. A house full of fucking Martells and Oberyn's brood of upjumped muts is just what he needs.
"Smile, Viserys," Oberyn croons on his way out. "It's the holidays, after all."
************
"You cannot be serious."
Arianne Martell should have known something was amiss when the family photo shoot was rescheduled. She assumed it was yet another thing she loved—Solstice at Sunspear and all the press around it—snatched away in Father's little temper tantrum. Along with Sylva, her wardrobe, and day-to-day management of her own fucking life.
She thought she'd at least take solace in the holidays this year. Garibald may be more watchdog than personal secretary, but he had the Office of the Heir running with military precision. Every detail of the shoot had been perfect, down to the rack of Jeyne Fowler originals in Martell red and gold and the brunch buffet in the Sun Tower while she, her cousins, and latest edition to the family, Myrcella, were in hair and makeup.
It was almost enough to make her forget. Tyene's razor sharp prodding of her sisters, El's boisterous laughter, Sarella's breakdowns of the latest Westeros political dramas, and Obella swooning over tales from Myrcella and Trystane's honeymoon. The mimosas and eggs deviled with spicy dragon peppers and Bellegere Otherys' Solstice album thumping along in the background as they flitted about in their gold satin robes. Even her red gown, albeit demure, was the finest of Myrrish silk, cool and soft to the touch, and draped over her curves like a dream.
It was almost normal. Until he descended the stairs.
Twenty minutes late instead of his trademark hour. No love bites this time, or at least with the good sense to have them covered. The very picture of the perfect prince in his red and black baroque silk suit, though he was anything but.
But she managed—as a woman in power does—not to throttle him. She survived standing at his side during the family photos and even the torturous couples' shots, with his scrawny arm around her waist and too-soft-for-a-man-grown lips under her ear as they posed in front of the Solstice tree, without vomiting.
She'd only needed blessed relief when Father summoned her to his study, where she poured four fingers of rum, neat. But not even the sweet burn of Myr's finest cask could dull the shrieking panic triggered by Father's news.
"So not only am I shunned from Solstice in my future seat, but you would have me spend a week alone with Viserys?"
Father sighed wearily, always so weary. The very sound of her voice exhausts him these days. Then proceeded to speak to her as one does a child. Slowly and carefully, annoyance dripping from the edge of his voice.
He reminded her again of how long he'd endured her petulance and flouting of the rules. He'd allowed her to stay unmarried through most of her 30s. Turned a blind eye to her discreet affairs because she was, at the very least, good at her job. She had the public wrapped around her pinky finger through her style, charisma, and touch with the common people. It was she who led their charity initiatives, who wielded the power of the press and social media. She seemed, in every way, capable of leading the Principality of Dorne into the future…
Until Gerold.
One little mistake. That was all it took for Father to lay down the law. He gutted her personal staff, whom he saw as co-conspirators in the affair, and replaced them with lemmings who managed her day to the fucking minute. Starting with that uptight little prick Garibald. He brought in image consultants who purged her closet and draped her in dull, modest frocks.
And betrothed her to the vile waste of a man he now demanded she spend a "romantic holiday" with at the Water Gardens because this joke of an arrangement was turning into a massive press flop.
Prince Doran Martell of the Sovereign Principality of Dorne never raised his voice. Not when his eldest son, next in the line of succession until Arianne birthed an heir, renounced his title to join an extreme sect of Rh'llor worshippers in Meereen after falling for some religious nut on a diplomatic trip. Not even when the shady investors behind Dorne's Formula 1 bad boy, Gerold "Darkstar" Dayne, attempted to blackmail the Crown with compromising photos and videos of his only daughter.
But the eyes tell it. When Father's soft eyes went truly black, dark and hard as obsidian, negotiations were over. She recognizes the look from when he told her of her pending betrothal.
"You will marry the Targaryen boy or I will name Trystane my heir."
"Someday… you will be responsible for the welfare of 45 million people. All of them willful. Some wayward, some even criminal." He folds his hands on the desk and tilts his head. "You mean to tell me you cannot lead a single man?"
Somehow, it was worse than if he'd just said "yes."
#modern westeros#modern dorne#modern dorne au#house martell#arianne martell#modern arianne martell#viserys targareyn#modern viserys targaryen#scandal westeros
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Thanks for the Robb inspo.
RICHARD MADDEN as MASON KANE in
CITADEL (-2023)
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"Imagine my surprise, learning the man I sent to do a job stole encrypted information from my server because my daughter infected him with what must be sexually transmitted idiocy. And then learning said daughter leveraged information that could ruin the lives of her own flesh and blood to save some misguided attempt to put her uncle—THE KING's—mistress in the Prime Minister's seat WHEN THE WOMAN DOESN'T EVEN WANT IT."
*whispers* Oberyn is not wrong here. 😂
I know. We all love Sarella. And Oberyn is toxic. But potentially crossing your aunt (THE QUEEN OF WESTEROS) to put the King's mistress in power when she's said more than once she isn't interested is wild shit. lmao.
When ppl kept commenting Lyanna was being too harsh and hoped she'd come around, they missed the part when Sarella's mother accurately read Daemon:
But Sarella isn't the besotted one here. He is.
Isn't that what every mother wishes for her daughter? Perhaps. More than anything, she wants Sarella to live up to the best of what she's capable of. The company of good lovers adds joy to the journey. But this man? The intense stare behind his dimpled smirk. The way he touches Sarella as if compelled by forces from beyond. He won't just tolerate Sarella's worst impulses. He'll delight in them.
And Robb, while being extremely wrong about everything, finds a sliver of right:
"Found yourself a new toy. Captain Daemon Sand. And I've read the file, Sarella. He's a perfect little lap dog, isn't he?"
So I mean... I've been trying to warn folks that this was headed for an epic blowup. And that our main character was WAY too high on her own supply.
I wonder who she'll be when we visit her in Dorne...
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