#The North Star Collective
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A thing about our system functions
For us, we can have multiple Headmates front at the same time, but not blend or blur. Like right now.
But we can also blend and blur, and it's not like co-fronting.
But when we have multiple Headmates fronting at the same time, we can barely keep it balanced and there's always one fronting the most. And if we do have it balanced, not for long bitch lmao
- Ev & Michael
#The North Star Journal#The North Star Collective#The Stud System#Pro endo#endo safe#DID#dissociative identity disorder#Headmates#slenderverse fictive#slenderverse introject#Alter#plural#plurality#fucking hell michael#stop adding so many tags my guy
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OHHHHHhhh this looks like a really good Q&A for systems!! I dont usually do these, but this is cool!
[ I will not be naming any of the headmates for their privacy ]
- Do you have a large headcount?
Ehh, kinda, but we lost count long ago. We think its up to 130+, and we don’t split oftenly anymore
- Do any headmates in your system have typing quirks?
I don’t think we would like to call them “typing quirks”, it’s just a style of typing in our eyes, but yeah! I know about 3 who front sometimes who have typing quirks.
- Does your system have any Non-human headmates?
Absolutely!! Some are animals, and others are entities and stuff like that. Definitely isn’t uncommon for us!
- Is your system neurodivergent?
Yep, We’re all collectively neurodivergent.
- Does your system use neopronouns or xenogenders?
Yeah! I personally don’t, but I know a lot of us who do use neopronouns and xenogenders! More rarely xenogenders though.
- Do any of the headmates in your system have dyed hair and/or is your hair dyed bodily?
I can’t think of any with dyed hair in the headspace, but I have dyed my hair blue twice bodily !
- Are there any non speaking/nontyping headmates in your system?
Yep! I can only name one, It doesn’t talk while fronting exclusively though. It does talk in the headspace to us though !
- Does your system have angry/or “dangerous” persecutors?
Yep. Aside from ex-persecutors, there is a very sadistic one that we are really trying to help.
- Do your little use baby talk?
Kinda in between, they talk normally and not like babies, but they also do have a childish tone in some way ! But only some of them
- Do you have a large or complex headspace?
Yep. We have 4 different houses, the back rooms, the upside down, a dangerous forest, a lake that we suddenly spawn in at random, a whole headspace for The Mandela County that Non-TMC introjects cannot access, a year old headspace in a forest that only few live in, and the whole ENA crew have made their own complex headspace.
So hurray ! What a strange headspace, but it’s our home. And we’re all comfortable in it.
- Do any headmates in your system have exo-memories?
Yeah!! And not just the introjects, but brain-mades too! It’s very rare we come across someone who doesn’t have backstory and their own life memories.
- Does your system have any tics?
We don’t have any tic disorders as such, but this is an interesting DID question, because we do sometimes have tics. Not much though
- Is your system bad at masking?
Actually no, I think of us all really good at it, as we don’t feel comfortable and safe to not unmask. But some of us are incredibly better at it than others!
- Do any headmates in your system have an accent that the body does not?
Absolutely! I don’t find much around, but I know around 2 British ones.
- Do any headmates in your system speak in a different language?
I think only one, but she doesn’t front anymore and she doesn’t like speaking in English, idk where she’s been but she was very nice!!
- Does your system use things like PluralKit and SimplyPlural?
We don’t have Discord, but we plan on getting it back some day and we’ll use PluralKit! We do have SimplyPlural and use it frequently!
- Are out about being a system? IRL or online or not at all?
Only my parents, siblings and older cousin know about me being a system IRL. I wish to one day feel more comfortable to come out as a system IRL, but I feel completely safe and open about it online !
- Do you post headmates intros as their own posts on social media?
We really don’t have many other social medias that we come out on other than here. But some of them have their own blogs on here!
- Do you make those “headmates that would get us fakeclaimed” posts?
Nope, I don’t feel like making those posts and kinda assuming stuff about other headmates.
- Is your system bodily a minor?
Yep. And it’s kinda weird, because we’re mostly made up of adults and older headmates.
- Do your headmates date in system?
Yeah some of them do !! (They are so cute together look at them go)
But not usually/not a lot
- Do headmates have different art styles?
Absolutely! Some of us love drawing, some of us take my old art styles as inspiration, and some of us are getting into drawing :D
Honestly, I don't see why systems get fakeclaimed for this shit.
This Q&A was very fun to do!! I’ve been tying this out for 20 minutes now, /srs
And it was totally worth it and fun!
- Splash/Taylor [Host]
The Cooler System Ask Game Based On Things People Fake Claim Systems On
- Do you have a large headcount?
-Do any headmates in your system have typing quirks?
-Does your system have any Non-human headmates?
-Is your system neurodivergent?
-Does your system use neopronouns or xenogenders?
-Do any of the headmates in your system have dyed hair and/or is your hair dyed bodily?
-Are there any nonspeaking/nontyping heasmates in your system?
-Does your system have angry and/or "dangerous" persecutors?
-Do your littles use baby talk?
-Do you have a large or complex headspace?
-Do any headmates in your system have exo-memories?
-Does your system have any tics?
-is your system bad at masking?
-Do any headmates in your system have an accent that the body does not?
-Do any headmates in your system speak in a different language?
-Does your system use things like pluralkit and simply plural?
-are you out about being a system? IRL or online or not at all?
- Do you post headmate intros as their own posts on social media?
- Do you make those "headmates that would get us fakeclaimed" posts?
- Is your system bodily a minor?
- Do your headmates date in system?
- Do headmates have different art styles?
No emojis/numbers just send the full question!
this post is based on this https://www.tumblr.com/million-with-a-b/734832850476695552/space-themed-system-ask-game-based-on-common?source=share ask game but with changed wording and some added questions + no dni on it for those uncomfortable with syscourse.
#did#dissociative identity disorder#plural#did system#did q&a#The stud System#The North Star collective#Ende safe space#pro endorse
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Written in the Stars
Star Tales: North American Indian Stories is retold and illustrated by Gretchen Will Mayo (b. 1936) and published in 1987 by Walker & Co. in New York. After getting a journalism degree and a teaching certificate, Mayo attended the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design from 1982 to 1984 and earned her MFA from Vermont College. She is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, and in 1987, she received several awards and honors, including the Original Children’s Book Art Award and Cooperative Children’s Book Center (CCBC) Choice for Star Tales. Mayo has lived and worked in the Milwaukee area for many years.
For this book, Mayo, known for her children’s books, retells Native American stories related to the stars. Her work beautifully bridges cultural heritage and imagination, making her a cherished voice in children’s literature. Her illustrations enhance the enchantment of these celestial narratives, allowing one to imagine constellations coming alive with myth and magic.
-View other posts from our Native American Literature Collection
-Melissa (Stockbridge-Munsee), Special Collections Graduate Intern
#star tales#North American Indian stories#Gretchen Will Mayo#Gretchen Mayo#walker & co.#childrens books#folklore#stars#oral traditions#storytelling#culturalheritage#Native American#constellations#Native American stories#Indigenous American stories#Native American Literature Collection#Indigenous American Literature Collection
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My Yakuza/Like a Dragon series collection part 1. Fucking love this series! Let's just pretend I own a physical copy of Like a Dragon Gaiden. I have the two PS2 games, too. I just don't want to dig them out... The only English Yakuza I don't have is Dead Souls.
#collection#yakuza#like a dragon#sega#video games#gaming#physical media#fist of the north star#hokuto no ken#lost judgment#judge eyes#kiryu kazuma#majima goro#ichiban kasuga#takayuki yagami#kenshiro#ryu ga gotoku#rgg studio#rgg#anime and manga#ryoma sakamoto
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^^"
Thanks !!
Here's to those who do a lot of work in the system, but don't ask for a lot in return!
There's a lot of moving parts involved with being plural, so it makes sense that sometimes certain headmates may end up putting in lots of time and effort, and not getting much out of it back. But that doesn't mean they aren't appreciated! This post is for them.
Shoutout to:
Caretakers and comforters who take care of or calm down their sysmates often
Hosts who take care of important daily life tasks
Protectors of all kinds for being on the "front lines" of things
Persecutors and similar roles who are trying their best to improve somehow (putting effort into being good is work that deserves to be recognized, too!)
Gatekeepers who work tirelessly to keep their system organized
And anyone else who just needs some appreciation today!
Thank you so much for all the things you do!
Take care of yourself!
🖤💜💙💚💛
#/pos reblog#!!!#The North Star Collective#The Stud System#The North Star Reblogs#The Stud System / The North Star Collective
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daily reminder that sharks are apparently older than fuckin polaris
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Movie Collection Releases for June 25, 2024
#home video#physical media#beast fighter#china obrien#common law wife#jennie: wife/child#the game of clones#monsterverse#ghostbusters: afterlife#ghostbusters: frozen empire#good burger#hallmark#hallmark movies#the hunger games#the north star#armored attack#teaserama#bettie page#dvd#bluray#4k#cover art#movie collection#june 25
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flibbity jibbity jibber jabber
#the stud system / north star collective#the north star asks#the stud system#the north star collective#osdd#plurality#plural#pro endo#did
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LMFAOOOO THIS IS SO ACCURATE WHY
(While updating SimplyPlural)
"OK, is (headmate A) still here?"
"Hm? Yes, I'm here."
"OK, what about (headmate B)?"
"What? Oh, sorry, no, I'm not here."
"Oh, OK.......Hey, wait a second!!!"
.
#The Stud System#The North Star Collective#The Stud System / The North Star Collective#The North Star Reblogs
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Almost deflocked ponies. I'll be finishing them soon! | Pony Insta
#g1 my little pony#mlp#vintage#toys#80s#1980s#g1 mlp#my little pony#my collection#deflocked#so soft ponies#deflocked ribbons#ribbons#bangles#deflocked bangles#north star#deflocked north star
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Giant Emerald Pill-Millipede: when these enormous millipedes are all rolled up, their bodies can be as big as a baseball, a tennis ball, or a small orange
This species (Zoosphaerium neptunus) is commonly known as a giant emerald pill-millipede. The females can measure up to 90mm long (roughly 3.5 inches), making this the largest species of pill-millipede in the world.
There is a significant degree of sexual dimorphism in this species, with the males measuring only about 45mm (1.8 inches) long -- roughly half the size of the females.
Giant emerald pill-millipedes are found only in Madagascar, which is home to several endemic species of giant pill-millipedes (order Sphaerotheriida). The Malagasy name for giant pill-millipedes is "Tainkintana," which means "shooting-star."
Pill-millipedes use conglobation as a defense mechanism, which means that they can curl their bodies up into a spherical shape so that their dorsal plates form a protective shield around the softer, more vulnerable parts of their bodies, just like an actual pill-bug or a "roly-poly."
When they roll themselves up completely, they look almost like gently polished chunks of malachite, emerald, or jade.
Giant emerald pill-millipedes will sometimes form large swarms that travel together as a group. This is the only species of giant pill-millipede that engages in any sort of swarming behavior, and the purpose of that behavior is still unclear. The swarms often contain thousands of individuals, with almost all of them moving in the same direction, even when there is no physical contact that might allow the millipedes to "herd" one another along.
Their swarming behavior also has some very peculiar features, as this article explains:
During swarming, Zoosphaerium neptunus individuals pay little attention to their surroundings; many specimens were observed walking straight into and drowning in small puddles. Some swarms even display ‘cliché lemming behaviour:' in Marojejy, a large part of a swarm walked into and drowned in a small river.
No single specimen was observed walking ‘against the current,' all specimens were moving in the same direction (southeast), even when not in contact with one another.
Of 273 randomly collected individuals, 105 were males, while 168 were females. The males were 8.3 - 14.1 mm wide (average width 10.4 mm). According to the inner horns of the posterior telopods, all males were sexually mature. The females were 9.95 - 15.4 mm wide (average width 11.4 mm). All females displayed non sclerotized vulvae and were sexually immature.
Some researchers argue that the swarming serves as a defense mechanism, providing a layer of protection (or at least some cryptic cover) against local predators, but the swarming behavior is still poorly understood.
Important Note: I just want to remind everyone that these animals belong in their own natural habitat -- they should not be trapped, bought/sold, traded, shipped, collected, or kept as pets. This particular species does not survive well in captivity, either, and the demand for these "exotic" invertebrates is putting the wild populations in jeopardy. The previous article discusses those issues, too:
Another possible threat for Z. neptunus swarms are collections for the pet trade. There exists a large demand in Japan, Europe and North America for 'green -eyed monsters’ as pets. Giant pill -millipedes from Madagascar unfortunately have a very short survival time in terraria. The species is specialized on low-energy food (dead leaves), and adapted to the cool climates (<20°C) of the highlands. Specimens in terraria often starve to death quickly.
So I know that they're adorable and really, really fascinating...but let's just let them be their chunky, adorable little selves out in the wild where they belong.
Sources & More Info:
European Journal of Taxonomy: Seven New Giant Pill-Millipede Species and New Records of the Genus Zoosphaerium from Madagascar
Madagascar Conservation & Development: Swarming Behavior in the World's Largest Giant Pill-Millipede, Z. neptunus, and its Implication for Conservation Efforts
Bonn Zoological Bulletin Supplementum: The Giant Millipedes, Order Sphaerotheriida (an Annotated Species Catalogue) (PDF)
African Invertebrates: Madagascar's Living Giants: Discovery of Five New Species of Endemic Giant Pill-Millipedes from Madagascar (PDF)
#arthropods#giant green pill-millipede#zoosphaerium neptunus#myriapods#diplopoda#millipedes#island gigantism#entomology#evolution#malagasy#cool animals#bugs#insects#animal facts#madagascar#pill-millipede#pill bugs#but not really#Tainkintana#conglobation#swarming#conservation#giant emerald pill-millipede
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I love the part in slenderverse where the depressed early 20's protagonist went "it's forest time!" And started slendering everywhere
- Jesse Wells
#you guys know who im talking about.#slenderverse#slenderman#*ahem*#marble hornets#everymanhybrid#tribetwelve#darkharvest00#hollowhemlocks#The North Star Shitposting#The Stud System / The North Star Collective
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The author, Angela Hovak Johnston.
Johnston and Marjorie Tungwenuk Tahbone, traditional tattoo artist.
Catherine Niptanatiak: "I designed my own, something that represents me and who I am, something that I would be proud to wear and show off, and something that would make me feel confident and beautiful. . . . I have daughters and I would like to teach them what I know. I would like for them to want to practice our traditions and keep our culture alive."
Cecile Nelvana Lyall: "On my hand tattoos, from the top down, the triangles represent the mountains. . . . The Ys are the tools used in seal hunting. . . . The dots are my ancestors. . . . I am so excited to be able to truly call myself and Inuk woman."
Colleen Nivingalok: "The tattoos on my face represent my family and me. The lines on my chin are my four children -- my two older boys on the outside protecting my daughters. The lines on my cheeks represent the two boys and the two girls on either side. The one on my forehead represents their father and me. Together, we live for our children."
Doreen Ayalikyoak Evyagotailak: "I have thought about getting traditional tattoos since I was a teenager. . . . When I asked the elders if I could have my own meaning for my tattoos, they said it wouldn't matter. My tattoos symbolize my kids."
Mary Angele Takletok: "I always wanted traditional tattoos like the women in the old days. I wanted them on my wrists and my fingers so I could show I'm Inuk."
Melissa MacDonald Hinanik: "As a part of celebrating my heritage and revitalizing important traditional customs that form my identity, I believe I have earned my tattoos. I am a beautiful, strong young woman. I am a mother, a wife, a daughter, a friend, and an active community member. I reclaim the traditional customs as mine, I re-own them as a part of who I am."
Star Westwood: "We still have some of our culture, but some things are slowly dying. Having tattoos helps us keep our culture alive. . . . . My tattoos represent my dad and my dad's dad. The ones closest to my wrists represent my sisters."
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National Tattoo Day
July 17 is National Tattoo Day. To celebrate, we present some images from Reawakening Our Ancestors' Lines: Revitalizing Inuit Traditional Tattooing, compiled by Angela Hovak Johnston, co-founder with Marjorie Tahbone of the Inuit Tattoo Revitalization Project, with photographs by Inuit photographer Cora DeVos, and published in Iqaluit, Nunavut by Inhabit Media Inc. in 2017.
For thousands of years, Inuit have practiced the traditional art of tattooing. Created the ancient way, with bone needles and caribou sinew soaked in seal oil, sod, or soot, these tattoos were an important tradition for many Inuit women, symbols etched on their skin that connected them to their families and communities. But with the rise of missionaries and residential schools in the North, the tradition of tattooing was almost lost. In 2005, when Angela Hovak Johnston heard that the last Inuk woman tattooed in the old way had died, she set out to tattoo herself in tribute to this ancient custom and learn how to tattoo others. What was at first a personal quest became a project to bring the art of traditional tattooing back to Inuit women across Nunavut.
Collected in this book are photos and stories from more than two dozen women who participated in Johnston's project. Together, these women have united to bring to life an ancient tradition, reawakening their ancestors' lines and sharing this knowledge with future generations. Hovak Johnston writes: "Never again will these Inuit traditions be close to extinction, or only a part of history you read about in books. This is my mission."
Reawakening Our Ancestors' Lines forms part of our Indigenous America Literature Collection.
Angela Hovak Johnston (right) with her cousin Janelle Angulalik and her aunt Millie Navalik Angulalik.
View other posts from our Indigenous America Literature Collection.
#National Tattoo Day#tattoos#holidays#Inuit traditional tattoos#Inuit tattoos#Inuit#Inuk#Reawakening Our Ancestors' Lines#Angela Hovak Johnston#Cora DeVos#Cora Kavyaktok#Marjorie Tahbone#Inuit Tattoo Revitalization Project#Inhabit Media Inc.#photographs#Inuit women#Indigenous America Literature Collection#Native American Literature Collection
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running with the wolves
Beta read by my wife @moonstruksandco ( ˘ ³˘)˘ᵋ ˘ )♥
Synopsis: Cregan Stark, the formidable Lord of Winterfell, eagerly awaits the arrival of his new betrothed, y/n, who has bewitched him since childhood. As winter sets in, he hopes to transform their arranged marriage into a union of love. However, y/n arrives with her own doubts, unsure if she can return his deep affection. Will their marriage blossom into love, or remain a cold duty? Cregan is determined to show her that their bond can be more than just an obligation on their wedding night.
Warnings: 18+ slow burn, smut, arranged marriage, loss of virginity, p in v sex (unprotected), breeding kink, rough sex, oral sex(both f/m receiving) missionary, mating press, doggy style lots of cum (I think all stark men cum bucket loads)
8k+ words likes and reblogs are highly appreciated ෆ/⟳ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
(Authors note: omg hayy I don’t know that much about Yorkshire accents aside from ackley bridge so I’m sorry in advanced if it’s not right :>)
⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:・*❆ ₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:・*❆ ₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔
The wind howled through the ancient halls of Winterfell, carrying with it the biting chill of the northern winter. Cregan Stark, the Warden of the North, stood by the great hearth in the main hall, his keen grey eyes fixed on the entrance. The time had come for the arrival of his new betrothed, y/n, the most beautiful amongst house Tyrell.
From the moment he first saw her, Cregan had been captivated. Even as a young lad, her grace and elegance had set her apart. Now, as a grown woman, she was even more bewitching, and Cregan's heart swelled with a mix of anticipation and determination. He was resolved to turn their arranged marriage into a union of love.
As Cregan stood by the hearth, he watched the window, the snowflakes drifting lazily to the ground, a distant memory surfaced, warm and vivid against the icy present. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be transported back to a time when he was just a young lad of twelve, visiting Highgarden with his family.
He remembered the journey vividly, how different the South had seemed compared to the North. The air was warmer, the colors more vibrant. He had wandered through the lush gardens, marveling at the flowers and plants that couldn’t survive the harsh winters of Winterfell. It was in those gardens that he first saw her.
Y/n had been around his age, a vision of beauty even then. She sat on a stone bench, engrossed in a book, her expression serene and detached. Her hair, shining in the sunlight, cascaded down her shoulders, and her delicate features were framed by the backdrop of blooming flowers. She seemed almost like a fairytale princess, so enchanting that he could scarcely believe she was real.
Without even realizing it his feet began to move on their own, he was like a moth being drawn to the flame that was her. As he approached her, His heart pounded in his chest, an unfamiliar but exhilarating feeling. She glanced up briefly from her book as he neared, her eyes meeting his for just a moment before returning to her reading.
“H-Hello” he said, trying to muster as much confidence as he could. “What are yeh reading?”
She responded without looking up this time, her voice calm and distant. “Hmm a collection of poems” she replied. “Do you like poetry?”
Cregan, caught off guard, nodded. “Aye. Though I don’t read much of it.”
She patted the space beside her, still not lifting her gaze from the pages. “You can sit if you want.”
He sat down slowly, feeling a strange sense of destiny in that moment. She continued to read aloud, her voice weaving the words into a tapestry of emotion and beauty. He listened, captivated not by the poetry but by her otherworldliness her grace, and the way she brought the words to life. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, completely in star struck, while she remained indifferent, too engrossed in her book to notice his adoration.
That was the last time they spoke just a few exchange of words. The rest of his visit to Highgarden was spent with his father and training with Y/N’s brothers and learning the ways of a lord, much to his chagrin. But whenever he could, he would steal glances at her from a window while she read in the garden, and across from her at dinner, for which his mother often scolded him.
"Cregan, it's impolite to stare" his mother whispered sharply during dinner one evening, nudging his foot under the table.
He tore his eyes away from y/n, his cheeks burning and crimson red. "I weren’t starin’, Mother.”
“Yeh most certainly were” she replied, her tone firm. “It’s not appropriate. Focus on yer meal.”
“But she’s… she’s so…”
“Enchantin’?” his mother finished for him, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Aye, she is. But yeh must remember yer manners, lad. Staring is unbecoming of a young lord.”
Cregan sighed, casting one last, fleeting glance at y/n, who was still in her own little world not casting a single glance his way. “Aye, mother….”
Despite his mother’s admonitions, his fascination with Y/N only grew, even as she remained blissfully unaware of his admiration.
Cregan opened his eyes, the memory fading as the cold reality of Winterfell settled back in. He sighed, turning away from the window. Some things, he mused, never truly changed.
⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:・*❆ ₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:・*❆ ₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔
In the dimly lit carriage, y/n huddled under the blankets, trying to stave off the biting cold that seemed to seep through the very fabric of her clothes. Her mother sat beside her, wrapped in her own covers and trying to offer some semblance of warmth and comfort. The carriage jolted over the rough, snow covered road, and every bump made her shiver more.
Her brothers, true to their duty, were outside braving the harsh northern winter with their horses, though y/n could scarcely imagine how they managed. She, however, had the luxury of being confined to the carriage, a prisoner of her own anxieties and fears.
The stories she’d heard about Cregan Stark haunted her thoughts. The gruff warden of the north with a claymore sword so heavy it was said to be the size of a small man. To her, the very idea of marrying such a man was nightmarish. She couldn't remember much about him from his family’s previous visit to Highgarden all those years ago, but the tales of his fierceness and the imposing aura of the North made her dread the moment she would finally meet him.
The carriage seemed to creak with the weight of her mother's discontent. Her mother’s complaints, murmured under her breath but audible enough for y/n to hear, were laced with disdain. “I cannot believe we’ve had to send our only daughter off to marry a Stark”
“Their way of life, covered in stinking animal pelts, living amongst brutes who value strength over grace. It’s hardly the life for a Tyrell.” She said with disgust.
Her father’s stern gaze flicked towards her mother, his patience evidently wearing thin. "We’ve discussed this, Eliza. The match is made, and it’s for the good of House Tyrell. Stop lamenting what cannot be undone."
To him, this marriage was merely a strategic move, a means to secure more power for Highgarden. His daughter's feelings were of no consequence, his focus was solely on the political gain.
“Do you have to be so callous?” her mother’s voice broke through the gloom. “She is our daughter.”
Her father’s gaze remained unyielding. “The alliance with the Starks is necessary for the gain of our house. Y/n is to be a dutiful wife to a powerful lord it’s what she was raised for, if she does her duty right she’ll bear him many children further securing our power”
As her father’s harsh words continued to echo in her ears, y/n’s anger flared. She straightened up, glaring at him . “If you wanted to gift Cregan a broodmare, you should’ve gotten him one of the whores you visit in the brothels” she spat out, her voice trembling with defiance.
mother’s gasp of shock was barely audible over the creaking of the carriage. Her father’s eyes were wild, a hot fury flashing in them. Before y/n could react, his hand shot out, delivering a hard, stinging slap across her face. The sharp force of it made her head snap to the side, and she recoiled, stunned by the sudden violence.
“How dare you!” her father’s voice roared with anger.
y/n’s mother was frozen, her hand going to her mouth in shock. She looked at her husband with a mixture of horror and helplessness. “Henry, please—”
“Be silent!” he snapped, cutting her off. “I will not tolerate such insolence!“
He turned his icy gaze back to y/n, his face a mask of unrelenting severity. “You are about to become the wife of a powerful man. you are fortunate that I secured this arrangement, otherwise you would just end up being Cregans whore in some brothel anyway.”
Y/n’s heart sank as she heard the finality in his cruel words. She knew better than to argue with him—his decisions were made with an iron will that left no room for dissent.
as the carriage continued its slow journey through the snow, y/n's thoughts were plagued with anxiety and uncertainty. The grandeur of Winterfell loomed ahead, and with it, the reality of her new life as Cregan Stark’s bride. She could only hope that, amidst the cold and the gruffness of her new home, she might find a way to endure this new chapter of her life.
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As Cregan stood by the hearth, still lost in his own thoughts, the door swung open with a crash and his friends burst in, laughter and shouts echoing through the great hall.
“Cregan, ye dog! Heard the news, did we!” Jorah boomed, striding up to him and clapping him on the back with such force it nearly sent him stumbling forward.
“Aye, lad, congratulations!” Gendry called out, raising his tankard high. “A Tyrell, no less! Must’ve done somethin’ right to be landin’ a lass like that.”
Cregan, smiling, shook his head as he tried to make sense of the sudden uproar. “Cheers, lads. Bit early for a celebratory drink, ain’t it?”
Bram, always one for a jest, stepped forward with a grin. “Well, Cregan, we heard she’s real beauty, fairest in all the Seven Kingdoms. Quite the catch for a dog like you. Ain’t right, really, a face like hers and a face like yours.”
Cregan raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips. “Oh, is that so? And what about ye lot, then? All of ye been lookin’ in the mirror lately?”
The room erupted in laughter, and Bram waved a dismissive hand. “Aye, we might be a rough lot, but at least we ain’t got to worry ‘bout our faces bein’ compared to a rose.”
Robb, always quick with a quip, leaned in with a wink. “Might be true she’ll forget all ‘bout yer ugly mug once she gets a look at what’s really under yer tunic. you’ve got more to offer than just yer sorry looks.”
Cregan’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he laughed along, trying to maintain his composure. “Ah, so ye’re sayin’ it’s all in the size of me… character, is it?”
“Aye, that’s right!” Robb said with a grin. “Best thing about ye, Cregan, is that even if your face don’t make the cut, yer other qualities surely will.”
Cregan shook his head, laughing despite himself. “Well, if it’s me ‘other qualities’ that’ll win her over, then I reckon I’d best be makin’ sure she gets a good look at all of ‘em.”
Jorah slapped him on the back again, nearly sending him reeling. “Look at ye, all flustered! Never thought I’d see the day. Don’t worry, lad. What lass wouldn’t want a strong Northman?”
“Aye, just keep it down a bit, or you’ll have me blushing so hard I’ll be usin’ me face as a lantern” Cregan said, his grin widening.
The friends continued their banter, the atmosphere warm with camaraderie and laughter. As they raised their mugs in a final toast, Cregan felt a renewed sense of anticipation and affection for the future, no matter the teasing jabs from his mates.
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The room was alive with laughter and chatter as Cregan and his friends carried on with their banter. Jorah was in the middle of a lively tale from a recent hunt, while Robb and Gendry argued over the best way to handle a particularly stubborn horse.
The door creaked open, and in walked Lady Gilliane Glover and Lord Rickon Stark, their presence immediately silencing the room. Lady Gilliane, a woman of dignified grace, and Lord Rickon, tall and commanding, made their way over to their son.
“Cregan, me lad!” Lady Gilliane called out, her voice warm but authoritative. “Got a bit o’ news for ye.”
Cregan turned, a smile fading as he saw his parents. He stood, brushing his hands on his tunic. “Mother, Father, what brings ye here?”
Lord Rickon gave a nod, his face a mix of seriousness and pride. “Your brother spotted Y/N’s carriage on the road. They’ll be arrivin’ soon.”
The room quieted, the friends sensing the shift in the mood. Jorah nudged Cregan with a grin. “Looks like the real fun’s about to start, eh?”
Lady Gilliane gave a small, amused smile. “Aye, that’s right. Thought ye’d want to know. They’ll be here within the hour, so best be ready.”
Cregan’s heart raced, and he glanced at his friends, trying to mask his nerves. “Well, no time like the present, I suppose. Best get meself sorted.”
Lord Rickon placed a reassuring hand on Cregan’s shoulder. “Remember, lad, first impressions count. Show her what a proper Stark man ye are.”
“Aye, Father,” Cregan said, nodding. He turned to his friends with a determined look. “Ye lot best behave yerselves when she arrives. Don’t be givin’ her any more trouble than need be.”
The friends raised their mugs, grinning. “Aye, aye, Cregan! We’ll be on our best behavior,” Robb said, winking.
Lady Gilliane’s gaze softened as she looked at her son. “We’ll leave ye to it, then. Just remember, Cregan, she’ll be as nervous as ye, if not more. Show her the warmth of the North.”
As Lady Gilliane and Lord Rickon exited the hall, Cregan took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The anticipation of meeting Y/N was building with every tick of the clock, and he knew the coming hours would be crucial.
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Y/n sat in the carriage, the stark contrast between the verdant landscapes of Highgarden and the harsh, icy expanse of Winterfell weighing heavily on her. The snow-clad scenery outside felt alien and unwelcoming compared to the lush greenery she had left behind. Each jolt of the carriage seemed to deepen her sense of displacement.
Her mother’s hand, warm and steady, was a source of comfort amid her growing anxiety. Y/N clung to it, drawing solace from its presence as she tried to quell her rising fears.
“We’re almost there, dear” her mother said softly, her voice a gentle balm against the cold atmosphere of the carriage. “Remember, we’re in this together.”
Y/n managed a small, appreciative smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you, Mother. It’s just… it’s so different from home.”
Her father, ever the pillar of stoicism, was peering out the window, his gaze fixed on the approaching Winterfell.
The carriage began to slow, the crunch of snow under the wheels signaling their arrival. As they came to a stop, y/n could see her father alighting first, his figure steady and authoritative as he approached Lord Rickon Stark.
“Lord Rickon” her father said, stepping forward with a formal nod. “It is a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for your gracious hospitality.”
Y/n and her mother remained in the carriage, the cold air seeping through the cracks in the doors. Her mother's hand squeezed hers gently, offering a fleeting moment of comfort in the face of her overwhelming anxiety.
"Mother" y/n whispered, her voice trembling. "What if I can't do this? I-I’m scared"
Her mother turned to her, eyes filled with sympathy and understanding. "Oh, my dear, I know it seems daunting. But you have a strength within you that you may not yet realize. You have always been resilient."
Tears welled up in y/n's eyes. "I feel so far from home. Everything here is so cold, so harsh."
Her mother reached up, brushing a tear from
y/n's cheek. "I know, darling. Highgarden's warmth and beauty are hard to leave behind. But you must remember, you have the ability to adapt and thrive. This place will feel like home in time."
Y/n nodded, trying to take comfort in her mother's words, but the knot in her stomach remained tight. "And what of Father? He seems so determined, but... he never cares for how I feel."
Her mother's expression darkened momentarily before she masked it with a gentle smile. "don't let him weigh you down. Focus on yourself and your own strength. You are here to build a new life, and I believe in you."
The carriage door opened, and the cold air rushed in, a stark reminder of the world awaiting her. Her father was already engaged in conversation with Lord Rickon Stark, their voices carrying a tone of formality and mutual respect.
"It's time" her mother said softly, giving y/n's hand one last reassuring squeeze. "Show them the grace and strength you possess. You are more than capable y/n."
With a deep breath, y/n steeled herself and stepped out of the carriage. The cold air bit at her skin, but she walked forward, her mother following closely behind.
Y/n's mother nudged her gently, drawing her attention away from the imposing figure of Lord Rickon. "Y/n, dear" she whispered, "Lord Cregan is approaching you."
Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she turned to see Cregan making his way towards her. He was even taller and more formidable than she remembered, his broad shoulders and strong build making him appear larger than life. She stiffened, her body tensing with apprehension.
Cregan's eyes, a deep and thoughtful blue, met hers as he stopped before her. He could see the trepidation in her gaze, the way her hands clutched the folds of her cloak. Despite the fear evident in her demeanor, she managed to muster a polite greeting.
"Lord Cregan" she said, her voice steady but tinged with a slight tremor. "It is an honor to be here."
Cregan offered a warm smile, though he felt a pang of hurt and self-consciousness at the sight of her fear. He noticed the redness around her eyes, the telltale signs that she had been crying. The realization made his heart ache—she was far from home, surrounded by strangers, and faced with the daunting prospect of marrying him, a man she barely remembered.
"Lady y/n" he responded, his voice gentle. "The honor is mine. Welcome to Winterfell."
Y/n nodded, her posture rigid. "Thank you, my lord."
He could see her struggling to maintain her composure, her attempts to be polite masking the underlying fear and uncertainty. He wanted to reassure her, to tell her that she was safe here with him, but he knew his words might not carry much weight given the circumstances.
"Ye must be tired from yer journey" Cregan said, trying to ease the tension. "I hope the accommodations we’ve prepared for ye are to yer liking."
She glanced around, her eyes briefly meeting his before darting away. "I'm sure they will be, my lord. Thank you."
Cregan's heart softened at her evident discomfort. He could only imagine how overwhelming this experience must be for her—leaving the warmth and familiarity of Highgarden for the cold and formidable North, betrothed to an intimidating stranger.
"Please, if there is anything ye need, do not hesitate to ask," he added, his tone earnest. "I want ye to feel at home here."
Y/N nodded again, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Lord Cregan."
As the formalities continued, Cregan remained by her side, acutely aware of her apprehension. He could see the way she shivered slightly in the cold, her delicate frame dwarfed by the heavy cloak she wore. The vulnerability in her eyes struck a chord within him, igniting a protective instinct he hadn’t anticipated.
He knew it would take time for her to adjust, to feel comfortable in this new and unfamiliar place. And while her fear and anxiety might hurt him, he understood the reasons behind them. She was far from home, thrust into a situation beyond her control, and he was determined to show her that she had nothing to fear.
As the crowd began to disperse, Cregan leaned in slightly, his voice low and sincere. "I hope ye will come to find Winterfell as welcoming as Highgarden, Lady y/n. We Northerners may seem cold, but we are loyal and true. Ye have my word on that."
Y/n looked up at him, her eyes searching his for a moment before she nodded, a hint of hope mingling with her fear. "…I will do my best."
He smiled softly, hoping to convey his sincerity. "And I will do my best to make this place a home for ye."
With that, they parted, y/n retreating to her quarters with her mother while Cregan watched her go, a mix of emotions churning within him. He was determined to prove himself to her, to show her that beneath his intimidating exterior lay a heart of gold capable of warmth and compassion.
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The day of the wedding arrived, casting a serene hush over Winterfell. The godswood was adorned for the occasion, the ancient weirwood standing sentinel over the ceremony, its pale bark and blood-red leaves seeming to echo the gravity of the moment.
In her chambers, y/n adjusted her maiden’s cloak for the final time. The rich green of House Tyrell’s sigil contrasted sharply with the snowy landscape visible through the window. Her father, though distant and stern, was prepared to escort her. As they approached the godswood, y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on her.
Her father’s expression was somber, but he offered her a curt nod, signaling it was time. Together, they walked through the snow, the crunching of their footsteps the only sound breaking the silence. The guests had gathered, their breaths visible in the chill air, and they fell into a hushed reverence as y/n and her father approached the heart tree.
Cregan waited beneath the weirwood, his eyes fixed on the approaching bride. As she neared, his breath caught slightly, a mixture of awe and anticipation in his gaze. The grandeur of y/n’s beauty was amplified by the solemnity of the godswood, her presence seeming almost ethereal in the fading light.
When they reached the base of the tree, Cregan’s voice rang out clearly, cutting through the stillness. “Who comes? Who comes before the gods?”
Y/n’s father’s voice was steady as he replied,
“Y/n of House Tyrell comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?”
Cregan’s response was filled with a fervent resolve. “Me, Cregan of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell. I claim her. Who gives her?”
Y/n’s father turned to her, his voice formal but lacking warmth. “I, Henry of House Tyrell, her father, gives her.”
He then addressed y/n, his tone clipped. “Lady y/n, will you take this man?”
Y/n’s voice trembled slightly but was resolute. “I take this man.”
With the formalities completed, Cregan and y/n joined hands and knelt before the weirwood. They bowed their heads, submitting to the gods in silent prayer. The moment was charged with a profound intimacy, the ancient tree bearing witness to their vows.
After a few moments, Cregan gently removed
y/n’s maiden’s cloak, revealing the intricate embroidery of House Tyrell on her dress. With great care, he draped over her shoulders a new cloak—the sigil of House Stark now displayed proudly.
The crowd erupted into applause, their cheers ringing out as Cregan and y/n stood together. The ceremony was complete, the ancient bond of the godswood now symbolizing the beginning of their shared life.
As they walked back towards the castle, Cregan stole glances at y/n, his admiration and anticipation palpable. Despite the harshness of Winterfell’s climate and the gravity of their new life, the day had marked a hopeful new chapter for both of them.
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Y/n's heart pounded as Cregan guided her through the cold, imposing corridors of Winterfell. The castle's heavy stone walls seemed to close in on her, amplifying her sense of isolation. Cregan's presence beside her was both comforting and intimidating, she couldn’t shake the fear that gripped her heart.
They arrived at Cregan's chambers, where a warm fire crackled in the hearth, casting a soft, inviting glow. He gestured for her to enter first, and after a brief hesitation, she stepped inside.
"Please, make yerself comfortable," Cregan said, closing the door behind them. His northern accent was thick, adding a rugged charm to his words. "Would ye like somethin' to drink? A bit o' wine, mayhaps, to help ye warm up?"
Y/n nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, thank you."
Cregan poured a glass of wine and handed it to her, his gaze lingering on her as she took a small sip. He could see the tension in her posture and wanted to ease her fears, to show her that he was not the monster she imagined.
"Y/n," he began, his voice low and earnest, the thick accent wrapping each word in a soft embrace, "I know this must be overwhelmin'. I want ye to know that I understand yer fears, and I swear I’ll do everythin' in me power to make ye feel safe and cherished here."
She looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "Thank you, my lord," she said, her voice quivering. "I… I don't know what to expect."
Cregan took a step closer, his gaze filled with a yearning that spoke of deep emotion. "Ye can call me Cregan" he said, the warmth in his northern accent making his words even more poignant. "And I need ye to hear me now, for it’s somethin’ I’ve carried with me for years. From the moment I first beheld ye, me heart was forever altered."
Y/n's breath hitched, her eyes searching his face for the truth behind his words. Cregan's expression was tender, his gaze reflecting a vulnerability she hadn’t expected. He took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to bare his soul.
"I remember the first time I saw ye in the gardens of Highgarden," he said softly, his voice weaving a tapestry of emotion. "I was just a lad, new to the beauty of the south. Everythin’ around me was lush and vibrant, but when I saw ye, it was as if my world fell apart. Ye were like a vision of ethereal grace amidst the greenery. The flowers and the trees—they seemed mere shadows compared to ye. In that moment, it was clear that ye were the true beauty of the garden."
Y/n's eyes widened, and a flush of color spread across her cheeks. She could hardly breathe as she processed his confession. "Since then?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Cregan nodded, his gaze steady and full of longing. "Aye, since then. Ye were a beacon of light in me life, and that memory has lingered, burnin’ bright in me heart. I’ve longed to be near ye, not merely for the sake of duty, but because ye’ve ensnared my heart in a way no one else ever could."
Her heart fluttered wildly at his words, the warmth of the fire mingling with the warmth of his confession. She had always felt like a pawn in her father’s game, never imagining that someone like Cregan could see her so profoundly.
"I didn’t know" she said softly, her voice catching in her throat. "I thought... I thought you would be distant and cold."
Cregan's smile widened, his eyes soft with pure affection. "Aye the North may be cold, but my heart is only filled with warmth for ye. I want ye to see the real me, to know that I am here for ye with all that I am."
She looked into his eyes, seeing a depth of sincerity and yearning that shifted her perception. Perhaps this marriage could be more than a mere alliance. Maybe it could be the beginning of something profoundly beautiful.
"Thank you, Cregan…." she whispered, feeling a newfound sense of calm and hope. "I... I want to try."
Cregan’s smile was full of warmth and relief. "Tha’s all I ask, Y/n. We’ll take this one step at a time, together."
As they stood there, hand in hand, the fire crackling softly in the hearth, Y/n felt a spark of hope ignite in her heart, seeing Cregan in a new light.
Cregan's eyes never left Y/n's as he took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted this moment to be perfect, to reassure her of his intentions.
"Y/n" he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "may I kiss ye?"
Y/n's breath hitched, her cheeks flushing scarlet. She hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod, her eyes never leaving his. "Yes, Cregan. You may."
Cregan moved closer, his hand gently cupping her cheeks as he leaned in. He pressed his lips to hers in a soft tender, almost hesitant kiss, his touch gentle and reassuring. Y/n responded, her initial nervousness melting away as she felt the warmth and sincerity in his kiss.
When he pulled back, he looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort. Seeing none, he smiled softly. "Ye're so beautiful, Y/n."
She blushed again, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you, Cregan."
He took her hand, leading her to the bed. As they stood beside it, he gently picked her up, cradling her in his arms. Y/n gasped softly, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carried her. He laid her down on the bed with the utmost care, as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
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Cregan's gaze remained locked on Y/n’s face, his eyes filled with a deep, reverent admiration. He lowered himself beside her on the bed, his hand still cupping her cheek. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “I can’t believe yer finally mine. My wife.”
Y/n’s heart fluttered at the sincerity in his voice. The way he looked at her made her feel cherished, his admiration lighting a fire within her. Her apprehension melted away as she reached up, cupping his face in return. “And I’m grateful to be yours, Cregan.”
Their lips met again, this time with more fervor. The kiss deepened as Cregan’s hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Y/n’s hands roamed over his shoulders, pulling him into the kiss with equal intensity. The warmth of his touch, combined with the gentle urgency of their embrace, made her feel as if she was floating.
Cregan’s breath mingled with hers as he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. “I’ve wanted this so much” he whispered. “I’ve wanted ye.”
Y/n’s eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze and the sincerity of his words. She felt a new, desperate longing surge within her, her body responding to his touch with an eagerness she hadn’t expected. “Please, Cregan” she breathed out, her voice trembling with emotion.
Their lips met again, each kiss more passionate than the last. The world outside seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in the moment, their breaths coming in sync as their yearning for each other deepened with every touch.
Cregan's kisses grew more intense, his touch transforming from gentle caresses to an urgent, burning desire. He pulled back just enough to look into Y/n's eyes, his own dark with passion. "I want to see all of ye, to feel ye" he said softly, his voice rough with need.
With deliberate care, he started to undress, his movements slow and deliberate. He tossed his cloak aside, revealing his strong muscular frame. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched him, his hardened form visible through his small clothes, making her heart race with a mix of anticipation and nervous excitement.
Cregan's hands moved to his shirt, sliding it off with a practiced ease. His gaze remained locked on Y/n as he undressed, his eyes filled with a burning intensity. His hands lingered on the waistband of his smallclothes, his hardness evident and stirring a deep, aching longing within Y/n.
When he was finally freed his cock, Cregan approached Y/n with a tender but determined expression. He reached for her cloak, slipping it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. His fingers moved deftly to her dress, his touch gentle but purposeful as he began to unlace it.
The fabric fell away, revealing her bare chest to his gaze. Cregan's breath caught at the sight, his eyes roaming over her exposed skin with a mixture of reverence and desire.
"Ye're stunning," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "I want to cherish every part of ye."
Yn's skin tingled under his gaze, her heart pounding as she felt both exposed and cherished.
Cregan's hands continued their exploration, his touch both reverent and possessive. He leaned in to kiss her again, his lips trailing hot, desperate kisses across her neck and shoulders.
His hands roamed over her bare skin, his touch igniting a fierce desire within her. She gasped, her body arching into his touch, as he pressed her into the bed with a controlled but eager force. His kisses became more fervent, his hands gripping her waist as he explored her body with a possessive urgency.
"I've longed for this moment" Cregan said between kisses, his voice rough with need.
Yn responded with equal fervor, her hands gripping his shoulders as she kissed him back with a desperate passion. "Show me, Cregan" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.
"Show me how much you want me."
The room was filled with the sounds of their mingled breaths and wet sloppy kisses as they lost themselves in the moment. Cregan's touch was a blend of tenderness and raw desire, each movement and kiss building a profound connection that left them both breathless and yearning for more.
As the kiss deepened, Cregan's touch grew more urgent, his hands roaming over Y/n's body with increasing desperation. His kisses, once tender and exploratory, became more demanding, his breaths ragged as he tried to control his growing desire. Yet, despite the intensity of their embrace, Cregan seemed to hold back, his movements tinged with an inner struggle to remain gentle.
Y/n could sense his restraint and the tension in his body. She was overwhelmed by the fire burning within her, her own desire driving her to push past his tentative touches.
"Cregan" she gasped between kisses, her voice trembling with need. "I want you. I want you to claim me fully."
Cregan's breath hitched, his eyes dark with a mix of surprise and longing. "Y/n... I-I don't want to hurt ye" he murmured, his voice strained as he tried to keep his composure, he promised himself that he would be gentle, only touching her as if she were made of the most delicate glass and now he’d already been more rough than he intended.
But Y/n's voice was resolute, her gaze fixed on him with a desperate intensity. "No, Cregan. I want you to make me yours completely.” She whined, but she saw the look on his eyes he wouldn’t relent unless she pushed him towards his breaking point. “I want you to fuck a baby into me. I need you ple—“
Cregan didn't let you finish. His lips crashed against yours in a kiss that ignited a wildfire within. He held your face tenderly yet firmly, his touch a lifeline as you clung to him, desperate for more. His tongue explored the depths of your mouth, tasting every inch with a hunger that bordered on feral.
The clash of your teeth, the fervor of your kiss, it was a battle, a dance of dominance that you were willing to lose.
Cregan's tongue delved deeper, drawing a breathless moan from you. His scent enveloped you, intoxicating and heady, making your knees buckle with longing. It was as if the tether to your senses was fraying, leaving you to melt into a molten pool beneath his commanding presence.
The heat coursing through your body was a familiar sensation, yet it had never burned this intensely. It surged through you, tightening your nipples and pooling between your thighs, setting every nerve aflame.
Lost in the haze of his searing kisses, you scarcely noticed when he eased your back farther onto the bed, his body a solid, protective weight above you. Your eyes met, a silent conflagration passing between you, before he claimed your lips again with a gentler fervor, the same intensity simmering beneath the surface.
"Do you truly want this? With me?" Cregan's voice was a hushed murmur against your lips, a plea and a promise intertwined.
"Yes, husband" you breathed, the words a vow of your own.
His lips brushed your ear, his breath a tantalizing whisper that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "I am going to make love to ye now."
Your nipples hardened at his words, a raw moan of anticipation escaping your lips as he took in your form, the vulnerable softness of your skin a feast for his hungry gaze.
Cregan lowered his head, his lips tracing a path of fire down your neck, over your collarbone, each kiss a desperate silent vow. His hands followed, exploring, caressing, leaving no inch of you untouched.
"Yer exquisite" he murmured, his voice a reverent whisper against your skin. His touch was a balance of possession and adoration, a worship that left you breathless.
The cool air kissed your overheated skin as he continued to explore you, Every touch, every kiss, was a symphony of sensations, a crescendo of passion that left you aching for more.
his eyes drinking in the sight of you, slowly consumed with lust for him, with a reverence that made your heart stutter. "My wife" he whispered, the words a sacred incantation.
Cregan leaned in, capturing your lips once more in a kiss that was both fierce and possessive. His hands roamed your body with a fervent curiosity, memorizing every curve, every dip, leaving a trail of molten fire in their wake.
Your body responded to him, arching into his touch, a silent plea for more.
His kisses grew more insistent, his touch more demanding, as he made his way down your body. He worshipped you with every kiss, every caress, until you were trembling with need beneath him.
"Cregan," you breathed, your voice a soft plea.
His eyes met yours, dark and intense. "I'm here, Y/n" he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. "I'm here."
Cregan's gaze was fixed on your taut, aching nipples. He wasted no time, his heated mouth enveloping one of your tight, sensitive peaks. You gasped as your back arched in response, the initial shock of his touch quickly melting into a rhythm of pleasure.
Each time his cheeks hollowed as he suckled, your gasps turned to desperate pants, while his fingers teased the other abandoned nipple, pulling and twisting it gently.
Cregan's mouth pulling harder on your nipple, his tongue lavishing attention on the delicate bud. Every flick of his tongue sent waves of sensation through you, stirring a throbbing need between your legs.
The pulsing ache demanded more, and your hand, almost involuntarily, slipped between your thighs. The damp evidence of your desire left you breathless and mortified.
"Show me yer hand" Cregan's voice rumbled, his tone firm.
"It's... it's embarrassing-"
Without hesitation, Cregan parted your thighs and deftly removed your small clothes, leaving you exposed before him. His gaze settled on your glistening core, and a satisfied smile tugged at his lips.
"C-cregan!"
"Y/n" he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of adoration and hunger.
"Ye've got the prettiest little cunt."
his words made your entire face burn and turn a dark crimson. The raw honesty in his voice left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.
“D-don’t look so closely!”
Without wasting another moment, he lowered his head between your thighs, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh.
your body trembling with need. When his tongue finally made contact, a moan escaped your lips, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you.
Cregan's tongue moved with practiced skill, each stroke and flick sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His lips latched onto your clit, sucking gently before releasing it with a soft pop, only to dive back in with renewed fervor.
The lewd slurping sounds filled the room, mixing with your breathless moans and the crackling of the fire.
Your thighs quivered, the sensation of his mouth on you pushing you closer to the edge. "Cregan" you gasped loudly, your voice shaking. "Please, don't stop."
He didn't need to be told twice. His tongue delved deeper, exploring every inch of your soaking wet cunt, his fingers joining in to tease and caress. The combined sensations were overwhelming, your body arching off the bed as you rode the waves of pleasure.
When you finally came, it was with a cry of his name, your body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through you. Cregan didn't relent though, his tongue continuing its relentless assault, lapping up your juices with a moan, prolonging your climax until you were a trembling, breathless mess.
Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening with your arousal, his eyes dark with desire.
He moved up your body, his hands bracing on either side of your head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
You could taste yourself on his lips, the intimate act deepening the connection between you.
But it still wasn’t enough for you, gathering your courage, you whispered, "Cregan?"
His eyes opened, soft and warm as they met yours. "Aye, love?"
You bit your lip, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks. "Can I... can I touch you?"
A spark of interest flared in his eyes, and he propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at you. "Touch me? Where?" He said teasingly.
You swallowed hard, your gaze dropping to where his cock lay, painfully hard and twitching. "There" you whined softly, reaching out tentatively.
Cregan's lips curved upwards. "Aye, love. Ye can touch me."
Your hand wrapped around his shaft, the heat of him searing your palm. You marveled at the feel of his skin, so smooth and yet so firm beneath your touch. Cregan's breath hitched, his muscles tensing as you explored him.
"Like this?" you asked, looking up at him for guidance.
He nodded, his voice rough with restraint.
"Aye, just like that. A bit firmer, love."
You tightened your grip slightly, your hand moving up and down his length in slow, deliberate strokes. The sight of him, so vulnerable and exposed, filled you with a heady sense of power and intimacy.
Cregan's hand covered yours, guiding your movements. "Tha's it, love. Yer doin' so well" he moaned, his voice laced with praise and pleasure.
As you continued to stroke him, you noticed a bead of precum forming at the tip. The sight of it, glistening and inviting, sparked a boldness within you. You couldn’t help yourself, you leaned forward, your tongue darting out to lick it away. Cregan groaned loudly, his hips bucking
involuntarily at the sensation.
"Fuck! Y/n" he gasped, his hand tightening around yours.
"Do that again."
You obliged, your tongue swirling around the thick head of his cock, tasting the salty essence of him. The act felt both daring and incredibly arousing, each lick eliciting a new sound of pleasure from Cregan.
Encouraged by his response, you took him deeper into your mouth, your lips closing around his shaft as you began to bob your head.
You were still unaccustomed to his size though, what you couldn’t fit in your mouth you stroked with your hand.
Cregan's hand tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you pleasured him.
"Ye're so fuckin’ good to me, love" he groaned, his voice thick with need. "So perfect."
The praise spurred you on, your pace quickening as you took him deeper, your hand stroking the base of his cock in time with your movements. Cregan's breaths grew ragged, his body tense with the effort to hold back.
When he finally came, it was with a guttural moan, his release bursting in your mouth.
You swallowed eagerly, wanting to take all of him, to show him the same pleasure he had given you.
As you pulled back, you looked up at him, your eyes wide and full of adoration.
Cregan's chest heaved, his eyes glazed with satisfaction as he pulled you into his arms, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.
But the night was far from over and the hunger in his eyes told you he was far from satisfied. You felt a renewed wave of desire wash over you, your body eager for more of him.
"Are ye ready for more, love?" he asked, his voice husky with desire. His hand trailed down your body, caressing your breasts and waist, finally coming to rest between your legs.
His fingers teased your wetness, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. "Yer so wet for me."
You nodded, your breath hitching as he continued to stroke you. "Yes, Cregan. I want you. I want you to take me."
His eyes darkened with a primal need, and he positioned himself between your legs, spreading them wide. "I'll be gentle at first, love," he promised, guiding his cock to your entrance.
"But I won't be able to hold back for long."
You felt the tip of his cock pressing against you, and your heart raced with anticipation.
He pushed forward slowly, entering you with a smooth, deliberate motion. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and painful sting as he stretched you to accommodate his large size.
Cregan's eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with love and desire. "Yer so tight, love. So perfect" he groaned, pushing deeper until he was fully seated inside you.
The feeling of being completely filled by him was indescribable, a blend of fullness and heat that made you gasp. "Cregan," you moaned, your hands clutching at his shoulders.
He began to move, his thrusts slow and gentle at first, allowing you to adjust to the sensation. But as your moans grew louder and your hips began to move in time with his, his restraint faltered. His pace quickened, each thrust deeper and harder than the last.
"You feel so good, Y/n," he growled, his voice rough with need. "I can't hold back any longer."
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he pounded into you.
The force of his thrusts drove you higher, making the bed hit the walls roughly, a testament to how greedily he was fucking into you.
Cregan shifted his position, lifting your legs higher and pressing them against your chest. The new angle allowed him to penetrate you even deeper, and you screamed his name as he took you harder.
"That's it, love. Take all of my cock," he urged, his eyes locked on your face, watching your every reaction.
The pressure built within you, the pleasure mounting to an unbearable peak. With a final, powerful thrust, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. Your body convulsed around him, gripping his cock as he continued to drive into you.
Cregan was relentless, his own release building. He flipped you onto your stomach, pulling you onto your hands and knees. He entered you from behind, his hands gripping your hips as he pounded into you with abandon.
"Fuck, Y/n" he groaned, his voice a rough whisper. "I'm gonna fill ye up. Every last drop."
Cregan's movements became more erratic as he neared his release, his breathing heavy and labored. You could feel the tension building within him, every muscle in his body coiling tighter and tighter. His thrusts grew deeper, more powerful, and you knew he was close.
With a final, powerful thrust, Cregan's hips stilled, pressing deep inside you. His entire body tensed, and he let out a loud, guttural groan, his face contorted in pleasure. You could feel the hot rush of his cum filling you, pulse after pulse, more than you had ever imagined. The sheer volume of it overwhelmed you, a torrent of heat flooding your insides.
"Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his voice rough with satisfaction. "Take all of it. Every last drop."
He held himself inside you for a moment longer, his cock throbbing with each spurt of cum. Then, slowly, he began to pull out, the sensation almost too much to bear. As he withdrew, you felt a gush of his cum ooze out of you, warm and thick.
Cregan watched, mesmerized, as his release leaked from your entrance. The sight seemed to ignite something primal in him, and he quickly brought his fingers to your dripping core. He gently pushed two fingers inside you, making sure to plug the flow.
"Can't let it go to waste" he murmured, his voice a mix of possessiveness and tenderness. "Want every drop to stay inside ye."
His fingers moved within you, ensuring his cum was thoroughly spread.
You felt another wave of pleasure as he gently massaged your sensitive walls, the sensation of being so full and claimed by him overwhelming you. Cregan leaned down, kissing the small of your back, his breath warm against your skin. "Yer mine, Y/n. All mine," he whispered, his fingers still inside you, holding his seed in place.
You lay there, breathless and trembling, feeling utterly claimed and cherished by him.
Cregan slowly withdrew his fingers, ensuring that every drop of his cum remained inside you. He gently flipped you onto your back, his eyes filled with an intensity that made your heart race.
As he settled beside you, his strong arms wrapped around your body, pulling you close. His warmth enveloped you, a comforting contrast to the cool air of the room.
He pressed his lips to your forehead, a tender kiss that lingered. Then, he moved to your cheeks, planting soft, loving kisses on each one. His lips brushed your nose, and then he found your lips, kissing you with a gentleness that was almost reverent.
"Y/n" he murmured between kisses, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm so glad ye're mine."
You felt a swell of affection in your chest, the sweetness of his words and the tenderness of his touch filling you with a profound sense of belonging. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he continued to kiss you.
Cregan's kisses were endless, each one a declaration of his love and devotion. He kissed your eyelids, your temples, your jawline, and your chin, his lips exploring every inch of your face with a loving intensity that made you feel cherished beyond measure.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "So perfect. I want to spend every moment of our lives together, showing ye how much I adore ye."
He held you tighter, his hands stroking your hair, your back, your sides. His touch was soothing, a balm to your still-racing heart.
The rough, demanding lover from moments ago was now a gentle giant, cradling you in his arms with infinite care.
Cregan pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Are ye alright, love?" he asked, his voice soft with concern. "Did I hurt ye?"
You shook your head, smiling up at him. "No, Cregan. You were perfect. I'm more than alright."
His expression softened even further, a look of relief washing over his face. "Good," he whispered, pressing another kiss to your lips. "I'll always take care of ye, Y/n. Always."
You nestled closer to him, resting your head on his broad chest. The rhythmic beat of his heart was a comforting lullaby, and you felt a deep sense of contentment wash over you.
A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground with no one around to see it. The thought lingered in your mind, a symbol of the unexpected beauty and love that had blossomed between you.
Cregan continued to kiss you, his lips never straying far from your skin, as he held you in a protective, loving embrace.
In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. Cregan's sweet, endless kisses and his tender words were a promise of a future filled with love, passion, and unwavering devotion.
⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:・*❆ ₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:・*❆ ₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔
#house of the dragon#hotd season 2#hotd spoilers#hotd#cregan stark#house stark#house tyrell#cregan x reader#cregan stark x y/n#cregan fanfiction#cregan x you#hotd cregan#cregan x y/n#cregan smut#tom taylor#hotd fic#hotd2#hotd x reader#hotd smut#house of the dragon season 2#hotd s2#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon smut
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You said you love a good fashion doc- do you have any more to recommend?
Designers and tastemakers
Very Ralph (2019). The preeminent American designer of our time, one of the very few who can stand toe to toe with the titans of Paris and Milan. To call Ralph Lauren's work "sportswear" is to call the Sistine Chapel "kind of a big painting".
Halston (2019). Speaking of going head to head with Paris, Halston did it first. Skip Ultrasuede-- this is a much better doc about the king of American 70s disco glam.
McQueen (2018). When people talk about fashion as an art form, chances are they're thinking of Alexander McQueen. Worth watching for the pulse-pounding runway shows alone.
Westwood: Punk, Icon, Activist (2018). Obviously you already know about this one, but it's gotta go on any comprehensive list. Without Vivienne Westwood, punk would have been nothing but a handful of noisy assholes.
Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel (2011). My icon, my north star, my personal hero. The empress of taste and high priestess of personal style. Watch this doc whenever you need encouragement to do and wear whatever the hell you want.
The Gospel According to André (2017). Diana Vreeland's protegé and a godfather of style in his own right. If it happened in fashion in the last fifty years, André Leon Talley was there for it.
Lagerfeld Confidential (2007). I have a high tolerance for difficult and unpleasant people as long as I like their work. Your mileage may vary, but Karl Lagerfeld's immaculate, relentless taste cannot be denied.
Institutions and events
The First Monday in May (2016). Witness all the hustle, bustle, savvy, and stress that goes into planning the Met gala!
The September Issue (2009). Same as the above, but for the famous September issue of Vogue. Watch this to learn who Grace Coddington is.
Dior and I (2014). How do haute couture collections get made? In 8 weeks from start to finish, I guess, if you're Raf Simons during his first season at the House of Dior. A documentary and a thriller.
Scatter My Ashes at Bergdorf's (2013). No matter what other retailers might want you to think, Bergdorf Goodman is the last great department store. A portrait, already halfway to a time capsule, of what luxury shopping used to be.
Peripheral, but may be of interest
Nose (2021). The passionate, delicate art of perfume creation for the House of Dior. The French landscapes where they source their materials will make you swoon.
Larger Than Life: The Kevyn Aucoin Story (2017). As the makeup artist to pretty much every single icon of the 80s and 90s, Kevyn Aucoin invented the image of that era as much as any designer.
Fabergé: A Life of Its Own (2014). Come for the dazzling jewels and sumptuous objets d'art; stay to find out how this illustrious name ended up on hair care products in the 70s.
Crazy About Tiffany's (2016). Another luxury jeweler whose name alone is the stuff dreams are made on.
Bill Cunningham New York (2010). The original street style photographer, since before "street style" was even a thing. A love letter to curiosity, and a testament to the power of taking an interest in the world around us.
Still on my watchlist
Salvatore: Shoemaker of Dreams (2020). Directed by Luca Guadagnino, which is enough to put this Ferragamo doc at the top of my list.
Advanced Style (2014). Portraits of seven women aged 62-95 with truly fab personal style. Top Letterboxd review is seething about how out of touch they are with the real world, which means I am probably gonna love it.
Suited (2016). A study of gender through clothing in modern culture.
Dries (2017). A year-- and four collections-- in the life of Dries Van Noten, who, interestingly, doesn't see the point of clothes that people can't buy to wear, and so does not do couture.
Yellow is Forbidden (2018). This doc about Guo Pei appears to use her career as a framework to understand the gatekeeping of global culture by the West. Dope as hell, if it can pull it off.
American Style (2019). The political, social, and economic history of America through its fashion. Another one that could be really awesome if done with insight and panache.
Quant (2021). She may share the credit for inventing the miniskirt with two other people, but it cannot be argued that Mary Quant invented 1960s Swinging London. And for that we say thank you Dame Mary.
#fashion#documentaries#film#this made me realize how broad of a category i consider fashion to be#joan didion? art forgery? the history of scotch? this too is style#nearly tossed a studio 54 doc on this list before remembering that it wasn't all that good#forthegothicheroine#questions queries quandaries
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As a system whos front is very influenced by our hyperfixation, we have like 5 frequent fronters and all of them are from the hyperfixation and I did not know that was not uncommon for neurodivergent systems?!
We're also fictive-heavy because of being neurodivergent..........
Here's to systems who change a lot!
In neurodivergent or larger systems, it can be quite common for there to be drastic changes pretty often; whether it might be because their interests shift, or because they're so large that any one group might not stay static, here's to those who experience these changes!
Shoutout to:
Systems who don't have a host, or have multiple hosts
Plurals who's hyperfixations and special interests influence their splits/main fronters
Polyfragmented individuals who split off groups of fragments at a time
Large collectives that end up shifting over time in general
Systems who regularly experience system collapses, resets, shuffles, dormancy, hibernation, and similar events
Those who end up splitting large amounts of introjects
Anyone else I missed!
It's hard to go with the flow sometimes, but change is part of nature! I know it can be difficult to handle some days, but you're doing so amazing right now! Please never forget that!
🖤💜💙💚💛
#The North Star Reblogs#The North Star Collective#The Stud System#multiplicity#plural#did#The Stud System / The North Star Collective
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