#lord stark drabbles

[aemondwhoresworld]

SOUVENIR

pairing: cregan stark x fem!reader

summary: what will happen when lord stark's wife or maybe his son, reckon found a souvenir from his old lover?

warning: minor angst, jealousy, mention of an ex-lover, use of y/n, cregan is a single dad, y/n’s lord stark second wife

word-count: 1k

mae: english is not my native language, please forgive my lag of grammar. i do use google for a translation, if any reader could help me fix some of the grammar or vocab, that would be great and i’m very appreciate it!! 🤗⭐️ this is my first fic, please forgive me if i made any mistake. i might delete soon (idk if rhis was too flop 🤗)

you and Cregan have been weds for 36 moons. although you are Cregan's second wife, Cregan has always treated you with nothing but respect, love that every lady wife deserve that affection from their lord husband, even when you know that the betroth between you and him are duty, beneficial for both houses but you cannot help but falling for him more and more. the begin of the 5 moons into your marriage life, both admitted you had feelings for the other.

right now, in the middle of winter season in Winterfell, sitting in front of the fireplace inside your and Cregan's chambers, with your favorite book open in your hand along with all the thoughts of those sweet moment that you have had with Cregan and Rickon.

“mommy, mommy look what i found” even you are not his real mom, Rickon still always call you mommy. Rickon's clear voice pulled you out of those thoughts and immediately all your attention is on Rickon holding a handkerchief in his hand, you take it from Rickon's little hands and ask

“oh what did you find Rickon, can you show it to me?” you asked softly, the boy also nodded in agreement, opened the handkerchief and you immediately saw that there were seams and very skillful embroidery inside, and of course this handkerchief did not belong to you because you had no memory of embroidering a handkerchief to give to Cregan as a gift before or not from what you remeber

when you look a bit closer at the embroidered lines, its shape resembles a man and woman, hands in hands. at this moment, you immediately recognize the male figure in the scarf is Cregan because of the Stark family's signature scarf and then when you look at women figure, you wonder who is the girl standing next to your husband?

but then a small knock on your chambers door interupted

“my lady, Lord Cregan Stark wants to meet you in the dining hall,” said the maid, Anza. before the Anza can leave the chambers, you called for her and asked about the handkerchief.

“Anza, do you know who is standing next to my husband in this embroidered scarf?” you gently asked while pointing at the embroidery. when Anza didn't answer your question, you turned to look at her with curious eyes.

"what’s up? is there something i shouldn't know about?”

“no, my lady,” she continued, “if you really want to know, i’ll tell you.”

“then just tell me then” you said

“my lady, it's Lady Celess Ashwood. an interest lover of Lord Stark.”

hearing this, you were a bit disappointed, but you had to regain your composure, stand up and tell Anza to take Rickon back his chambers because it was time for him to rest. you walked out of your shared chamber, went straight to the dining hall where Cregan was already sitting there and waiting for you, all the way from your chamber to the dining hall, holding that handkerchief in your hand with lots and lots of thoughts running through your mind

does he really love you?

or is it because he still misses his past lover?

there are so many thoughts that make you go to the dining hall without even knowing when, with a handkerchief in your hand.

“y/n” Cregan stood up, walked towards you with a gentle smile on his face, Cregan's hands gently hugged your waist, then he bowed down his head and gave a kiss on your forehead, a kiss filled with love.

“Cregan” you said and gently leaned into Cregan's hug. then you asked him

“who is Celess Ashwood?” Cregan was a bit surprised when he heard this name, its been awhile since he last heard this name but he calmly answered

“how do you know this name?” Cregan asked you with a warm voice, his toned arms still not leaving your waist. still holding onto you tightly like he was afraid that if he let go you would be blown away by the cold, strong winds of Winterfell.

“please, cregan answer my question first.”

“Celess is…” he hesitated a bit, as if he didn't want to say it

“Celess is someone i once had feelings for, someone i once loved.”

“so you still miss her? that’s why you didn't want to say it, right, my Lord Stark?" You asked Cregan with a slightly disappointed voice, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes

“please call me Cregan, we are man and wife there are need to call me that” he continue

“and no, i don't want to mention it, not because i don't want you to know, but because i think it's not important anymore. now i have you and Rickon by my side, that is my first priority.”

“then why did you still keep this handkerchief?” you continue to ask him

"i didn't keep it, love. i thought i lost it so i had no intention of finding it again."

after hearing Cregan say that, you can’t say that your moods change completly but atleast you felt relieve when you learned that your suspicions about his loyalty were completely wrong.

“well, i forgave you my husband but unfortunately for you, Rickon is the one who found it and gave it to me.”

“oh my son, Rickon is always on your’s side. i pray to the Seven one day you will gave me a daughter” Cregan joked, then pulled you in a tight embrace. then you ask

“so you have to quickly plant your seed inside me, hopefully the Seven might heard your pray sooner or later, my dear husband.” at this point, you could only laugh, only now did you pay attention to it. the dining table in the dining hall was filled with food and Cregan let you out of that warm hug

“but before we start to try and bring another baby Stark into this Winterfell, we must have to to eat first, my dear y/n.”

[rhaenyra-storms]

STOPP your drabble of cregan was adorable, we need more stories of him!! i would like to request something for cregan, where the reader is his lady wife and is introduced to jacaerys for the first time!! it’s up to you whether they have children of their own or it’s just rickon (cregan’s child from his first marriage), i like to think lady stark!reader would become eager to talk to jacaerys and his dragon!!

thank you so much!! i literally love writing for him omg. and i would definitely freak out too if i was able to see a dragon!! :,)

it got a lot longer than expected, but i hope you enjoy!!

pairing: cregan stark x wife!reader warnings: cregan is a little overprotective, that's it, just fluff words: 1.7k

You didn't want to believe it at first.

Cregan was sitting in the Great Hall of Winterfell when the news arrived. A few scouts had spotted a dragon flying north at a rapid pace and tensions were high in the castle.

Winterfell was far away from King's Landing, as was the coronation of the new King Aegon, but the Starks and the North were still sworn to the Targaryens. You and your husband had already suspected that sooner or later, you would be dragged into their mess as well.

Judging from the little time you had spent at court in the South, you knew the Targaryen family was a horrible mess. When King Viserys made the decision to name Rhaenyra heir to the Iron Throne, you knew it would be catastrophic as soon as the old King would pass.

"Do we know who the dragon belongs to?" Your husband's deep voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Cregan always asked the right questions, to the right people, but this time... everyone seemed a little clueless.

You placed a hand on your husband's arm, giving it a little squeeze. "They will not attack alone and without an army. They don't have reason to," you said in a quiet voice, just for him to hear. Cregan gave you a soft smile as he looked over at you, but his eyes were filled with concern.

While an attack was highly unlikely, he couldn't really exclude it entirely and that was already enough reason for him to worry. He wanted to keep you safe and all the people in Winterfell.

"We should still proceed with caution," your husband answered, his hand finding yours and giving it a small squeeze in return. He then pushed himself out of the chair, towering next to you, before he addressed the rest of the people in the room. "We will welcome the dragon rider into our home. With caution. I do not want to start a war with the crown, not when we have more important things to worry about."

Cregan knew the next winter would not be far and he needed to make sure his people were well-prepared and his men were strong. You had always admired your husband for his composure and his natural talent for ruling.

Two hours later, you welcomed the oldest son of Rhaenyra Targaryen into your home. Your husband had talked to him alone at first, using the Godswood as a sight of common ground and when a servant informed you that he wished for you to join them for dinner, you knew their conversation had probably been a positive one.

"Lady Stark," Jacaerys nodded his head at you as soon as you entered the Great Hall. He was a pretty man, his black curls a mesmerising sight. However, you couldn't deny that all the rumours you had heard about his father might be true then. He didn't have the signature Targaryen white hair and from the few times you had met Lord Harwin Strong, he seemed to resemble him quite clearly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my Prince," you greeted him with a smile. Jace gently placed a kiss upon your knuckles.

"The pleasure is all mine, m'lady."

Cregan watched Jace closely as you two introduced yourselves to each other, but after their short conversation he felt like he could trust Jacaerys. He had been kind enough not to threaten him with his dragon. Said creature was now waiting outside the Winterfell gates and he was sure the people of the castle couldn't take their eyes off it. The Lord of Winterfell himself could only describe the creature as mesmerising and a sight to behold. And he knew that his wife would probably love to meet a dragon.

The dinner went by quite fast and the conversations were lighthearted despite the general situation of the realm. Jacaerys didn't mean to only talk about the conflict between his mother and Aegon, but he knew that he had a chance to win Cregan Stark over for their cause. And winning over his wife as well in a way would be beneficial too.

"Have you ever seen a dragon, my lady?" Jace asked you after he placed his cup of wine back on the table. You could feel your husband smile next to you. He was very aware of the fact that you had always been fascinated by those creatures. Their freedom to fly, their strength and their sheer power. Dragons were pure magic in your eyes.

"Unfortunately not, my Prince," you answered, leaning back in your chair a little. Jace had mentioned "Vermax" throughout the conversation and you knew the dragon was waiting outside the gates. Its roars were hard to miss throughout the day.

"But I would love to. One day."

"Then today might be the day. If you wish to, of course," Jace gave you another polite nod and an inviting smile. The prospect of meeting a dragon had you ecstatic in seconds, but you knew your husband would suspect danger in this situation. He was more than right for that.

"I would love to accompany you two then." Cregan sounded determined, but still polite. A subtle sign for Jace to understand that he was good-willed, but still cautious.

The support of the North was vital to Rhaenyra's cause, so Jacaerys really didn't intend to mess it up.

"Vermax is a kind dragon. As long as you mean no harm." Jace waited for your husband to push his chair back and stand up first. You followed right after, hooking your arm with Cregan's as you made your way outside.

The sight before you was stunning.

It was already dark outside, but the dragon could hardly be missed. His olive green scales appeared almost black in the dark and your husband grabbed a torch from a guard as you approached.

"Relax, Vermax", Jacaerys spoke in Valyrian, making you raise your eyebrows for a moment. You wished you would have paid more when your family's maester had tried to teach you a few simple words in Valyrian.

"They're our friends."

Vermax' eyes turned into slits for a moment, studying both you and Cregan. The dragon was probably evaluating if you were a threat despite his rider's kind words.

"I've seen more outgoing dragons than Vermax, but he's a gentle one at heart," Jace explained.

It was fascinating to hear about dragons having different personalities and being a little more like humans in a way. Some were impulsive, others were shy. As a child, you had always wished for a dragon as a pet.

"It's... He's wonderful," you whispered, feeling your husband's arm wrap protectively around your waist. Cregan would rather throw himself in front of the dragon's teeth than watch anything happen to you.

"I know. Do you want to touch him?" Jace asked, his voice soft and inviting. "Only if you want to, of course. I do not wish to make you uncomfortable in any way."

Excitement bubbled in your stomach. You could feel the heat rush to your face. All your childhood dreams seemed so close now – meeting a dragon, touching a dragon and pretending for just a moment that you could be a dragonrider too.

Cregan's grip around you tightened, a small reminder of how all of this could backfire. A cold wind blew by and you took a deep breath.

"I will be fine," you assured your husband, taking the time to plant a kiss to his cheek. A small attempt to calm him, but you knew that he would always be worried for your safety. The Lord of Winterfell only knew you were safe when you were in his arms, sleeping safe and sound.

Slowly, you made your way over to the dragon. It seemed to smell your anxiety and retreated for a moment. Jace put up his hand, a sign for Vermax to calm down – to relax. There was nothing bad that would happen.

You gave the dragon time, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you couldn't take your eyes off the creature in front of you. It still seemed wary, but after a few short moments, the dragon eventually bowed down a little, lowering itself to the ground. It was a silent invitation for you to come closer.

But you still wanted to get reassurance from Prince Jacaerys who quickly gave you a nod and beckoned you closer.

It felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest when the dragon sniffed your hand.

Your husband was on the edge of his nerves behind you. His hand was already positioned at his sword, as if he would stand a chance against a dragon. "Careful, my love," he mumbled. He was feeling increasingly uneasy as he watched you and he let out a small gasp when you eventually laid your hand on the dragon's head.

Vermax closed his eyes slowly after he had eyed you enough. You weren't a threat. Not to him and not to Jace.

The dragon's skin was warm and hard, rough against the soft palm of your hand. "Seven hells..." you mumbled, watching in fascination as Vermax continued to relax.

Jace placed his hand on the dragon's wing for a moment, stroking it softly. "I told you he is a kind one. I would offer you a ride, but I think your husband might fall over dead if I do." It was a small jest, but it made you laugh softly.

You turned your head a little, spotting the Lord of Winterfell as he was tensing up more and more behind you. He forced a smile to his lips, trying to look more relaxed than he was. Cregan wanted you to fulfil your dreams, but he needed to keep you safe as well.

However, seeing you as happy as this, as your hand laid upon the dragon's nose, he couldn't help himself but smile a little more genuinely. His hand remained at his sword, but his shoulders relaxed nonetheless.

Seeing the joy in your eyes as Jace told you more about Vermax and the dragon seemed to be content with your presence, Cregan couldn't help but think about how many more days he wanted to spend like this. Seeing you happy was the biggest light in his world.

He'd do anything to see that beautiful smile. Over and over.

[vampyrevogue]

Illness

Cregan stark × Fem!reader

Warnings:Fluff, super sweet cregan, Illness.

This fic is definitely not me projecting because of how I'll I am currently. Short little drabble.

It was late in the afternoon when The lord of winterfell heard the news of his dear lady-wife falling Ill. He had woken early as he usually did, though this morning he had decided to leave you sleeping soundly in your shared chambers;he spent his whole day in council meetings and in the training grounds.

When you're dearest handmaiden had burst into winterfell council chambers to inform cregan of your illness he had immediately stood up rushing through the halls of the formidable keep toward your shared chambers.

As he entered the room his eyes immediately found you, laid in bed in a delirious state drenched in sweat and sniffling heavy. Your cheeks were a bright pink and your eyes barely open and you flex your aching knees under the covers, one ofyour hands thrown over your forehead as one of your handmaidens attempted to dab your forehead with a cold damp cloth.

“out all of you” Cregan says gruffly, his gaze shifting to the other maids in the room who were running a bathfor your.

They quickly scurry out, the maid who was by your side originally handing him the damp cloth. Your heavy breathing and sniffling wasthe only noise left in the room as he approached you with a softened look on his face, taking a seat beside you and gently placing the cloth on your forhead. His hand comes up to gently caress your face, sighing softly at the hurt of seeingyou in such a state.

“how do you feel, my girl?”he asks, he tone soft yet it still had its usual northern gruffness. He knew the answerto his question already, he just wanted to know you were not completely lost in fever.

“bad”you murmur quietly, a soft cough following your voice. Your weary eyes open a little more, examining the soft look on his face.

“there is a bath drawn, should you wish to get in it. I'll have some soup brought to you” she says, wipingyour sweat drenched hair from your forehead.

You contemplate for a moment, your head turning to the large copper bathtub in the center of the room. You groan at the though of relaxing your aching limbs in the steamy water. Nodding slightly, you wearily swing your legs over the edge of the bed, taken small and shaky steps toward the tub. Cregan stands behind you his arm barely on your back as he attempts to steady your steps, quick to help you tie your hair back and strip of your nightgown;he holds his hand out assisting you in sinking yourself into the tub before leaning at the side, his hand still intertwined with yours.

You lean your head against the copper tub, sinking fully into the water with a large sigh. Cregan hands you a glass of water,and you sip it quickly as if you had not ever drank water.

“you must rest well, my love”he whispersto you, his hand running throughyour hair gently.

You looked at cregan with a gracious smile, thankful for his presence beside you more than ever. You knew this was going to be a long and aching time of sickness but you were just glad cregan was by your side as he always promised he would be.

Short and sweet as alway, hope yall enjoy it. Yknow the drill please send asks in if you have them❤.

Sincerely, V.carmen.

[entitled-fangirl]

Au where grandpa Rickon gets to meet his baby grandson Rickon 🥹

HAD TO DO A LITTLE DRABBLE

.................................

Rickon Stark sat on the edge of his seat in the hall next to his only son, Cregan.

All that could be heard in Winterfell were the cries of Cregan's wife as she delivered a child.

Cregan was all nerves. Kept from the labor room, he sat in agony next to his father, his head shooting up at any sound or any indication that the labor had progressed.

It had been nearly 7 hours. 

Rickon had been through this before. He knew everything his son was feeling. He remembers being glued to that very same chair the day Cregan was born. 

Stark men are brutes, but their love for their wives erases all of it quickly.

Cregan's hand moved to his hair, pulling at the strands in frustration when another wail was heard from the room. "What is going on in there?" He growled.

Rickon placed a hand on his son's shoulder, "Do stay strong, my boy. Stark blood runs through that babe's veins. I reckon it's giving her a right fight."

"I don't know how you did this," Cregan opened up honestly.

"Your mother was the toughest woman I ever met," Rickon sighed, "I worried more for the babe than her."

That made the tension brake and Cregan chuckled softly. 

…

Painful hours later, the midwife came from the room with a broad smile. 

Cregan bolted up to stand.

"A healthy boy, my lords."

Rickon smiled, giving a firm pat to Cregan's back. "I told you, boy."

"And my wife?" The young man asked, his voice still shaky.

"Weak, but she is fine."

Rickon nodded, "may he see-"

Cregan didn't wait for permission. He ran into the room, going to the woman's bedside like a magnet.

Rickon stayed behind, looking back to the midwife. "And the babe's name?"

The midwife grinned further.

"She's named him Rickon, my lord."

…

Rickon held the babe to his chest as he looked to his son. 

Cregan held his wife in his arms as she slept, the sweat still strung across her forehead.

"You did well, my boy," Rickon smiled.

"Aye," Cregan sighed. "He's a beauty."

"He is, but I was talking about her." He motioned his head towards the slumbering woman. "You did well pickin' her."

"Thank you, Father." He looked down at her. "I did, didn't I?"

..............................................

[andreawritesit]

Hello! I hope I am not bothering you :) I was wondering if I could ask for a Cregan Stark x Reader where they have a busy day and cuddle under the furs for the night, sweet kisses and pillow talks and all this kinda stuff. Just a small drabble would be ok.

i adore fluffy so please make it as sweet as you can, thank you :(

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Reader

Words: 952

The arrival of winter was always a busy time in the North. As the Lord and Lady of Winterfell, Cregan and you had spent the entire day overseeing the preparations for the upcoming winter. The castle buzzed with activity as you both coordinated food storage for the harsh winter to come. It was your duty to make sure that the people of the North would be well-protected against the biting cold. You had assisted Cregan throughout the day, your presence a constant source of support and encouragement. Whether it was reviewing the storeroom inventory or ensuring that the workers were well-fed and rested, you had worked tirelessly alongside him.

As the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the snow-covered landscape, the fatigue of the day began to weigh heavily on you. You glanced at Cregan, who was engaged in a final discussion with his advisors. His strong and commanding presence never ceased to inspire you, but even he looked tired at the moment. Finally, he sent them on their way and walked over to where you were standing, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You must be tired, my love. Come, let's retire for the night." He held your hand and led you out of the hall.

You made your way to your chambers, the warmth of the castle a stark contrast to the icy chill outside. Cregan held your hand the entire way. You felt a sense of relief as you entered the cozy room, the flickering fire casting a comforting glow. Cregan closed the door behind him, and the day's burdens seemed to melt away. You let out a long sigh which elicited a soft laugh from your husband.

"What's so funny, my lord?" you asked him.

He shook his head and hugged you from behind. "Nothing. You truly are very tired. Forgive me, in between all the preparations for the winter, I perhaps didn't pay much attention to you today."

You turned around still in his embrace and wrapped your arms around his torso. He rested his chin atop your head and hugged you closer to himself. "Not at all, dear husband. You were doing your duty and so was I. I'm indeed tired but I'm also quite proud of how much we accomplished in just a day."

He kissed the top of your head and released you from his hold. A chill ran over you in the absence of his warmth. Without another word, Cregan began to shed his heavy cloak and boots. You followed suit. You both moved in a comfortable silence, the kind that comes from deep understanding and mutual affection. Once you were both in your nightclothes, Cregan pulled back the thick furs on the bed, inviting you to join him.

You put your clothes on the chair and walked over to him. He had already climbed under the warm furs. You quickly slipped beneath the furs, the soft, warm fabric enveloping you in a cocoon of comfort. Cregan immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. Snuggling against his chest, you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

"You know what", his deep voice rang, sending shivers down your spine, "today was truly exhausting. It feels like there is a mountain on top of my head."

You tilted your head to look up at him, your eyes filled with care and love. "Does it ache a lot? I can call the maesters. There is no reason for you to suffer, my love."

Cregan shook his head slowly and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "It's nothing I can't handle. Besides, you've tired yourself enough today. Now I want you to stay here and rest."

You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin. Cregan leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble of warmth and love. When you finally pulled away, Cregan rested his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling in the cool air.

You lay there for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a gentle light over the room. Cregan's hand stroked your hair, his touch soothing and tender. You were just starting to fall asleep when Cregan suddenly asked, "Do you remember the first time we met?" a smile playing on his lips.

A sound somewhat between a sigh and a laugh left your lips. "How could I forget? You were so serious and intimidating. I thought I'd never get through to you." Cregan smiled, looking at you with love and admiration in his eyes.  "We've come a long way since then," he said softly. He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips soft and tender against yours.

"I love you, Cregan," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," he replied, kissing you once more. "More than words can say."

As the night wore on, the soft crackling of the fire and Cregan's steady breathing played on like a lullaby, summoning you into the land of dreams. Eventually, your eyes grew heavy, and you nestled closer to Cregan, your head resting on his chest. Cregan held you close, his arms a protective cocoon around you. "Sleep, my love," he murmured, pressing a final kiss to your forehead. "I'll be here when you wake." You sighed contentedly, your eyes fluttering shut. "Goodnight, Cregan", you breathed out before falling asleep.

"Goodnight," Cregan replied softly, his own eyes closing as he held you close.

[misswynters]

The Northern Chronicles

Cregan Stark x Arryn!wife!reader

[SYNOPSIS: This is just the beginning of the beautiful story of the Stark Dozen. The legendary family that ruled over the north and who’s children grew to influence all of Westeros.

[WARNING: none

[NOTE | short drabble of cregan and you with your 10 children at winterfell. (aged up to current time however some chapters will include when the children are younger as well) but will become a series! so if you would like to be tagged let me know in the comments.

NEXT: Northern Chronicles: Lady Arryn & Lord Stark

Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky as you and your husband stood in the courtyard of Winterfell, watching your beautiful ten children play in the crisp winter air. The sight of them, bundled in animal furs and laughing as they tumbled through the snow, filled your heart with warmth despite the cold atmosphere.

Edrick, the eldest twin, a tall and sturdy young man with Cregan’s brooding eyes, was engaged in a snowball fight with his younger siblings. His laughter rang out as he dodged a particularly well-aimed snowball from his twin sister, who had inherited your quick wit and fiery spirit.

Selyse, the younger twin, is your eldest daughter, with her wild curls and spirited energy, led a group of her younger siblings in building an elaborate snow fort. The scene was chaotic but joyful, each child contributing their own unique flair to the project.

Cregan, sitting beside you, wrapped his arm around your waist, his presence a solid and comforting anchor in the midst of the winter wonderland. “Look at them,” he said softly, his voice filled with pride. “They’re growing up so quickly.”

You leaned into him, your gaze fixed on the children. “They are. It feels like just yesterday they were learning to walk, and now they’re running through the snow, making memories of their own.”

The two of you shared a moment of quiet contentment, watching as your youngest, barely old enough to walk, took his first wobbly steps in the snow, his siblings cheering him on with enthusiastic shouts.

Your youngest son, Finnian stood in front of you both holding a dead in his tiny arms. “Papa look at me!” The boy said enthusiastically, waving the dead animal around by the tail. Cregans eyes widened at the scene.

“Boy!, put that animal down. Now!” He said in a commanding voice as he stood up to walk towards his son. As an instinct, finnian began to run away, cutting through his siblings snowball fight. The mischievous little boy had the widest smile in his face. You thought it was adorable seeing your husband chase him.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the landscape, you and Cregan gathered the children for a cozy family dinner inside the great hall. The children’s laughter echoed through the halls as they recounted their adventures in the snow, their faces flushed with happiness.

The long wooden table was adorned with hearty fare—roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and rich, steaming stews. The hall was filled with the comforting aroma of home-cooked food, and the warmth of the hearth crackled cheerfully against the cold outside.

With everyone settled at the table, you took a moment to admire the scene. Cregan’s broad shoulders were relaxed as he shared a joke with the older children, while you served the younger ones with a smile. The joyful chaos of a large family dinner enveloped you, a testament to the love and unity that bound you all together.

Amidst the lively conversation and clinking of mugs, a handmaiden named Kyra, who had been assigned to help with the evening’s preparations, entered the hall carrying a fresh platter of meat. Her expression was sour, and her demeanor dismissive. She set the platter down with a huff, casting an impatient glance at the children.

As she turned to leave, she made an offhand comment loud enough for several to hear. “I suppose the Stark children are too busy playing to remember their manners,” she sneered, her gaze landing on your eldest daughter, Selyse.

Your daughter, already sensitive to such slights, stiffened in her seat, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. The room fell silent for a moment, the insult hanging heavily in the air.

Cregan’s eyes narrowed, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You could see the protective anger in his gaze, but before he could speak, you gently touched his arm, signaling him to let you handle it.

Rising from your seat, you approached Kyra with a calm but firm demeanor. “Kyra, it seems there’s been a misunderstanding,” you began, your voice steady. “Our children are the heart of Winterfell, and they deserve respect, as do all who live and work here.”

Kyra’s face flushed with a mix of shame and surprise. “I didn’t mean to—”

You cut her off gently but firmly. “I understand. But please remember, everyone here is valued, and our children are no exception.”

Turning back to your daughter, you offered her a reassuring smile. “Come, sit with me,” you said softly, guiding her to a seat next to you. The warmth of your presence seemed to ease her tension, and she gave you a grateful, if slightly embarrassed, smile.

The dinner resumed with a renewed sense of camaraderie, the earlier tension slowly dissipating as the children continued to share their stories and laughter. Kyra, now noticeably more subdued, moved quietly through the hall, her previous rudeness replaced by a more respectful demeanor.

As the evening wore on and the stars began to twinkle outside the grand windows, you and Cregan watched as your children interacted with each other and the rest of the household staff. The hall was once again filled with the joyous sounds of family, and despite the brief moment of discord, the evening had restored its warm and loving atmosphere.

Cregan squeezed your hand under the table, his eyes filled with appreciation. “Thank you,” he murmured. “For handling that so gracefully.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “We’re a family, and their respect is very important, especially when it matters most.”

As the night drew to a close and the children’s laughter faded into sleepy murmurs, you and Cregan stood together, the echoes of the day’s joy lingering in the air. The love that filled Winterfell was a testament to the strength and unity of your family—a family that, despite its challenges, would always stand strong and united under the watchful gaze of the stars.

Next | Lady Arryn & Lord Stark

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @travelingmypassion @shoxji @thornsandtulips @spn-obession @giovanna-hyt @r-3dlips

banner: by @cafekitsune

[temporarily-your-saint]

Dull Blades

benjicot blackwood & targaryen oc

UPDATED! First chunk of this just? Disappeared??? So, edited it to include the missing first part!

warnings: angst?? no warnings, really? fluff & drabble for now & soft ben ~

I got this idea for a drabble from S2 of GOT when Catelyn Stark finds her son in disarray after hearing of his father. After watching the last couple episodes of HOTD (and reading Fire and Blood recently), it’s hard not to think about all of the heartbreak between the two sides. This little drabble follows an OC I’m creating, Rhaenala, having a moment to really feel and let out her frustration and sadness. She wanders off to the woods on her own once settling into the Riverlands only to then be discovered by a certain Blackwood. Also, I know, I know, okay! I know our boy didn’t turn out to be our boy, BUT LET ME COPE, OKAY. : ‘ )

Also, part 1??? Thinking about making a second part to this…

—

Swing after swing the blade got duller and even more damaged. The log had had it. She couldn’t help it though. Everything was falling apart as she knew it. Her house, her family, everything. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

Her breath heaved as she swung her sword. In the distance, she could hear footsteps brushing along the grass and leather moving against each other as a voice called out.

She wiped her eyes, removing all evidence of frustrated tears.

“Hey!” She heard the voice as it got closer. It was a husky voice, perhaps a young lad.

“Hey! Princess!” Lilac eyes snapped up to meet the unknown voice. Her chest rose up and down quickly as she leaned over to rest. Who was this? This lanky, dark-haired man? Rhaelana was stunned by his boldness yet captivated.

Piercing familiar eyes met hers. “We need that sword, Princess. We need every sword necessary to end every life that defends the usurper. And…” he trailed off, his eyes scanning the blade in her hands. “You’re letting that one go to waste,” he finished his sentence softly as he slowly approached closer.

Blackwood. Benjicot Blackwood.

She remembered now. Head of House Blackwood. How could she be so dense?

The princess was sent by her mother to aid their allies with the battle against the Lannister army. Benjicot had sent ravens to the queen not long before asking for aid, so Rhaelana was drafted with Valax, her grown dragon with black onyx scales. The two were a formidable pair and more than capable of assisting their Riverland allies.

Her mouth parted with a bewildered cackle, laughing uncontrollably out loud. She couldn’t help it. This truly was a sightly scene for the young lord to find his princess, wasn’t it?

She sheathed the sword as she stood upright. “My apologies, my lord. I shall be more mindful,” her voice quivered on the last word, almost making her lose her composure. He could see that, of course. It wasn’t difficult to see that she was hurting, being torn apart in every direction. Most of all, she was grieving. Grieving for those that were already lost. Grieving for those that would welcome death soon enough. And what better way to let go than by hitting something? Oh, Benjicot knew that feeling all too well.

“Princess?” He continued to walk towards her, stepping slowly only inches apart now as they stood in front of each other.

“I should be going now. There’s people expecting me and—“ But as she began to step past him, an arm reached out, hand wrapping itself around her wrist.

“I wept,” he began to speak, answering the puzzled look on the princess’s face. “The first time I lay eyes on all the bodies. It was my first time on a battlefield and afterward I felt nothing but sorrow.” His words hung heavy in the air. “War is war, princess. And with family? I dare not imagine. But you have us. You have me,” he spoke softly while searching her eyes.

The young lord realized he still held her wrist and released her, snapping the princess harshly back into reality as he let her go.

“Benjicot Blackwood,” she spoke his name sternly. The young man straightened up, gaze never faltering hers.

“Thank you. I hope to see you at the meeting,” a hopeful gleam shined in her eyes as she spoke. Her body then glided past him, her shoulder brushing his arm as she passed.

The current state of her family was doomed. But her mother’s rightful place on the throne didn’t have to be. No, she was going to fight. She was going to fight with any and every weapon possible, dull or not.

A smile danced at the corner of the young lord’s lips as she passed by. His head bowed for a moment as he responded, “Of course, princess.”

Her figure walked away from him, towards the direction of camp. If there was one thing for certain, Ben knew they’d succeed with the princess at their aid. He recognized the look in her eyes all too well. The princess was proving to be all the more captivating than he could have hoped.

[dipperscavern]

STARK SIZE KINK STARK SIZE KINK STARK SIZE KINK!

No one in the world could convince me that the stark bloodline is not half giant or something. Idk how they thought giants didn’t exist for years when the stark men were RIGHT THERE! On how tall cregan is… Do not tell me he isn’t 6’5-6’7 because george r.r. martin whispered it into my ear last night. He loooooooooves how tall he is compared to you, he relishes in just towering over you and watching your eyes get all big as you look up. He doesn’t even mean to be freaky wit it… he just thinks you are the sweetest little thing he has ever seen. Whenever he is with you out in public he likes to keep you nice and flush to his side so that if anything may happen, or if you are to fall victim to the northern cold, he may hold you close to protect you from whatever may befall you. He scares off everyone around you like a big scary bodyguard. He likes being close to you in general, loves the feeling of having your relatively small figure in contrast to his much larger one. When he beds you it is much worse really. Expect that he will crowd your personal space and leave you no air to breathe. Face all up in the crook of your neck, his big arms all-encompassing as he makes you feel aaaallllllllllllllll of him.

There are two walls in the north, The Wall™️ and cregans big backed body okay You Have To Just Think About It… He has been hardened by the trials of war and the duties that come along with being warden of the north. Nothing comes easy to anyone living that far up the hemisphere. That being said, he is muscular. Incredibly ripped and skilled with his sword (🤫). Just a big brute of a man, who is freakishly tall, and is casually dressed in pelts that are inches thick to shield him from the northern wind. If you squint he’s built like a roblox character… And do not think i forgot that time you mentioned how he would assert his dominance by backing you into a wall and just reminding you of who he is by just standing there and letting you soak it all in (🤫). You might think of him of your kind and lovely doting husband, but at the end of the day he is Lord Cregan Stark and you will know it before the end. The end being when he realizes you like the size difference a little too much and has you on your back against your soft blankets in no time with his [REDACTED] at the cusp of pushing into you (he likes to press down on your stomach once its fully inside btw) (how else do you think he got all those fuckass kids).

p.s. his dick is the ‘Ice’ of dicks :///

lots to think about… lots to ponder… (same anon as the possessive starks ask <3)

U CALLING CREGAN BIG BACKED LMFAOO. and him pressing down on your stomach…. oh my god. his dick being the ive of dicks is so… gods. he has to prep you good to be able to take him. i literally… don’t even have anything else to add this is all perfect. i can only push the message further.

[i gesture to this ask] FEAST YOUR EYEs

(cregan size kink drabbles coming to your screen soon)

[cherryheairt]

Cherryheairt's Masterlist

Request Characters and rules

Here

HOTD

Cregan stark-

Series-

Dragon Dreamer-

Summary: Daenys, Rhaenyra's eldest daughter, has been labeled as a mad woman by the realm and Queen Alicent. Upon her mother's crown being stolen by Aegon ii, Daenys finds herself being sent to the North to treat with Lord Stark. She finds a lot more than she bargained for with Cregan Stark.

Side story

Drabble

Chapter one-

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Oneshots-

In His Arms - Comfort/fluff

Pearls - Smut

Not Yet Blossomed pt 1- Angst/hurt comfort

Hidden Truths - Angst

Hidden Truths pt. 2 - Angst/open end

If I must -Angst

Jacaerys Velaryon-

WIP

Benjicot Blackwood-

Oneshots-

Dramatic

Gwayne Hightower

Oneshots-

Dance of Black and Green

Lord of the Rings

Legolas-

WIP

Thranduil

Oneshots-

Love and War

Marvel (MCU)

Bucky Barnes

Oneshots-

TLB

GOT

Ned Stark -

Arcane -

Viktor -

Vi -

Genshin Impact

You get into a barfight

[cdragons]

hiii i see you lurking :3 miss u love u muah muah muah!!!!

I don't know what you're talking about, my love O//W//O, but please enjoy this little drabble dedicated to another one of our brainchild. Happy 1K followers, my love! It's been so wonderful to see how much your blog has grown and it brings me so much joy to know that others see what an incredible writer you are.

"It's not fair!" Sansa insisted to her parents, stomping one foot on the stone floor, emphasizing her anger and ire. "Birdy is MY friend, not Robb's! He can't keep trying to steal her!"

"She's not an actual bird, sister," Robb quipped back, annoyed that his younger sister was making such a pointless fuss. "And I wasn't stealing. We were simply talking."

Lord Eddard Stark was exhausted after a long day of acting as the high lords of his ancestral home. The last thing he had expected was his solar to be barged in by his eldest daughter, demanding that his eldest son and her older trueborn brother be barred from speaking from her favorite handmaiden. However, it seemed that dealing with Robb was going to be as much as a dread, if not more than Sansa, if his tense shoulders and scowl were anything to go by.

It wasn't that Ned Stark wasn't grateful for your presence, however strange the circumstances of your arrival were. It was highly unusual for a bastard of a noble to come to be the handmaid of a highborn lord's daughter such as Sansa, even more so when your sire was none other than Roose Bolton himself. Truly, he was shocked when Sansa begged him and his wife to promote you to such a high rank. But he couldn't deny how happy you've made his daughter.

"Look, Father!" she was beaming the other morning when she came down to the Great Hall to break fast with the family. "Do you notice anything different today?" Now, Ned loved all his children, but he was the first to admit that he was as ill-informed as any other man regarding matters of women and young girls. However, looking up from his plate, he was surprised to indeed have noticed something different about his daughter's appearance today. "You've done something with your hair," he replied, inwardly delighted with himself from how Sansa smiled wider. "It looks lovely, dear." "Isn't it beautiful? Birdy brushed and braided it for me!" Sansa went to her seat. "She found wild blue roses the other day and thought of braiding them into my hair today!" "It looks wonderful, Sansa," Catelyn Stark nodded. Despite her distaste for her husband's decision to take in Roose Bolton's bastard, she couldn't deny that the girl was good at her work. "Birdy said she could go to the market at Winter Town tomorrow. But she said that she'd wait until after my lessons with Septa Mordane if I wanted to come with her," Sansa looked at her parents with pleading eyes. "May I please go?" Catelyn nodded, "Robb, would you mind escorting your sister and Lady Snow to the marketplace later after your lessons with Rodrick?" Sansa spoke for her brother. "There's no need for Robb to join us. Birdy already asked Jon to do it." "I'll go," Robb interjected, ecstatic with glee at the idea of walking around town with you. He looked back to see your reaction. As usual, you weren't paying attention to anyone and lost in your little world. You seemed to be talking to a new bird today, the little creature cheerily twittering into your ear. Robb spent the rest of the meal lost in his daytime dreams of you, utterly oblivious to the growing irritation of his younger sister.

Sansa pouted and crossed her arms, "You already have Jon, and Theon follows you everywhere! Why do you need to talk to Birdy for anything anyway? She doesn't like to talk about swords or hunting..." She turned to their father. "He even went so far as to pull her into a corner after we broke fast!"

"WHA-!" Robb balked, and the tips of his ears went red. "I did NOT--!"

"Robb," their father, Ned Stark, turned to his son with stern eyes. While Ned was confident that Robb knew better than to act so dishonorably, he wasn't blind to how quickly his eldest son and heir had taken to Sansa's new handmaiden. "Is what your sister speaks true?"

Robb rubbed his eyes and loudly sighed out his frustration. He loved his sister as much as anyone else in his family, but gods above, she could be so much. Really, how can you ever manage to keep your patience with such a tiresome girl he'll never understand?

"No," he firmly replied. "I was merely informing her that I would be joining Jon in escorting her and Sansa to the market."

"I already told you that you don't have to come!" Sansa growled. "Every time Birdy and I talk, you have to come in and interrupt!"

"You spend so much time together. Have you ever considered that perhaps I'm rescuing her from you?" Robb muttered, just low enough for his sister to hear but not his father.

"I heard that, Robb," their father grumbled. Ned looked like he had aged ten years since his children came in and interrupted his peace. "Sansa, you know better than to falsely accuse your brother like that. Robb, please refrain from any impulsive actions. As the next Lord of Winterfell, you need to remember your differing stations."

"Yes, Father," the siblings grumbled in unison. But anyone could tell that this issue was far from over.

"Honestly...! Robb can be so annoying!" Sansa and you have just returned from the market stand with your favorite spinner. What should have been a relaxing walk turned out to be a tiresome activity with the addition of not one but both of her older brothers. "He always has to put his nose into everything!" She waited for you to agree, but you were silent. Turning to look at you, her frustration grew when she realized you weren't paying attention. "Are you even listening to me?"

You finally looked up from your knitting and impassively blinked. "Not really...why? Was it important?"

Sansa sighed before sitting beside you. You and her were sitting underneath the Weirwood Tree, your favorite spot in the Godswood. "As your lady, everything I say to you is important. You're my handmaid; you should know this..."

You dispassionately shrugged. "I'm still not very familiar with the ways of highborn nobles."

Sansa indignantly huffed before pouting. You gave a small smile before going back to your knitting.

“Who do you like better, me or Robb?”

You look at her lady in surprise and confusion. “Your brother? Lord Stark’s firstborn?”

Sansa nods. “Yes, now tell me, do you like me or him better?”

You cocks your head to the side. “Why would that matter, my lady?”

“Because it does!” Sansa rolls her eyes. "He's always interrupting us and trying to flirt with you!"

You carefully think about it. You hadn’t really spent much time with Lord Robb. You're more likely to play with the little ones or Jon, which is common ground for both of you being bastards. In the beginning, Robb tended to avoid you whenever he could. But now he tends to single you out whenever he sees you and his sister talking. “Your brother has been very kind to me. He is certainly very nice. But I haven’t spent much time with him to know. When he does try to talk to me, I find it sometimes difficult to talk with him.”

Sansa’s eyes widen. “He hasn’t been rude to you like Theon, has he?” She shook her head.

“No, just…hard to talk. Not much to say from me to him I suppose.”

“Is that how it is with me?”

You turn to Sansa. “No, I find it very easy to talk to you, my lady. You are very different from me, but I like our discussions very much.”

Each word you spoke was true. Many would consider your Lady Sansa, a silly little girl who believed in too many stories about pretty princes and great heroes. But you knew true evil - you were born from it and was raised with it looming over your shoulder for your entire life. Snasa may have been naive, but she was a kind girl who still saw the beauty in her world. A beauty you couldn't see, but could appreciate.

You and her were very different, but you enjoyed spending time with her. It was apparent she was very proud of her noble birth, but you never felt uncomfortable. In fact, you felt as relaxed with her as you do with Maester Luwin, going so far as to speak informally with her without any other company.

Sansa smiles and hugs you. “I think so, too. So you do like me more than Robb.”

You think and nod. “Yes, I am very confident to say that is the case.”

Jon loved Robb - really, he did. But gods above, his brother could be a brat. "Future lords aren't supposed to sulk."

Robb growled, "I am not sulking."

"Pouting, then..." Jon muttered, going back to aim his arrow at the target. But the arrow flew over the wall when a stray snowball hit his head. Jon turned to his brother, annoyed. "If you want to get to know her so bad, why don't you talk to her without Sansa? You might stand a better chance than just pining after her all day."

"I am not - oh, fuck off," Robb went back to hacking the straw dummy before him. He didn't want to admit it, but Jon was right. It didn't take a genius to guess that his terrible mood had little to do with training and more to do with the fact he failed in his chance to get you alone...again. "Why does she have to be around Birdy all the time, anyway?"

"...Because she's her lady...?"

Robb wanted to scream, "Yeah, but - y'know...doesn't ever annoy you?"

Jon shook his head. Truthfully, it wasn't long ago that his relationship with his half-sister was very different. Before you arrived at Winterfell, the way Sansa treated him was barely better than Lady Stark. She neither acknowledged his presence nor ever referred to him as her brother. But ever since your arrival, the icy wall that separated began to slowly thaw. After befriending you, Sansa gained a whole different perspective on bastardy and was more thoughtful and considerate of how she treated Jon. She even gave him a handkerchief with an embroidered direwolf for his name-day gift.

Jon doubted he and Sansa would ever be as close as he and Ayra, but they were making progress.

Robb wiped the sweat pooling on his forehead. "What would I even talk about with her?"

Jon had the nerve to act oblivious. "Why're you asking me?"

Robb's curse nearly spewed out, "You know why. You're the only one she likes talking to... what the hell do the two of you even talk about for so long?"

"I dunno," Jon shrugged. He knew he wasn't being particularly helpful, but he really didn't have an answer. "Look, just talk to her about anything. Better than what you do now..."

"What are you two talking about?"

Robb and Jon turned around in a panic. There you were, standing in the courtyard with your infamous impassive stare. It was painful to see how effortlessly beautiful you were. You stood like a true beacon of Northern beauty, so much so that all the animals inside the keep craved your company. Robb couldn't recall the number of times he found you cheerily conversing with rats from the kitchen or the crows in the rook.

What he would give to have you speak with him with such eagerness...

"Nothing of importance, my lady," he tried to act as normal as possible. "Why? Do you need assistance with anything?"

You shook your head. "I just wanted to drop something off, " you said, digging into your pouch. You pulled out a package wrapped in a burlap sack and twine. "I mended your gloves. They were looking a bit frayed, so I stitched them. They should last a bit longer now."

Robb didn't respond. He just stood and stared like an idiot who had forgotten his own name. It wasn't until Jon jabbed into his side with his elbow that he thanked you for your help.

"Thank you, my lady," He cleared his throat before taking the package from your hands. He opened the package and wasn't surprised in the least at how his old gloves looked better than when he first got them. You always had that magic touch. "They smell different."

You nodded, "Yes, Ayra mentioned that you were upset last week because I didn't give you my favor since I promised to give it to Jon. She also said you stink after training, so I should ensure the gloves mask the odor." When he didn't react, you decided to provide further clarification. "She said it would help you."

"I'm going to kill Arya," Robb thought to himself. He could see Jon's shoulder shake with laughter from the corner of his eye.

You bowed to take your leave. "Now, excuse me, my lords. I must attend to Edwina."

"A fellow maid?"

"No, the duck in the stable. She's pregnant, and I knitted a scarf for her."

Happy 1K, my love!

[aemondwhoresworld]

I NEEDS SOME CREGAN STARK SERIES/FANFICTION!!

this is for all of cregan bitches (like me 😭)

i am currently ✨in love✨ with our lord cregan stark, so i need for y’all reccomendation on any fics that you have read before, any fics that are cregan stark/reader, cregan stark/oc, cregan stark/targ!, arrange marriage trope, rhaenyra daughters, being cregan 2nd wife etc is work for me. i’d prefer ao3 and tumblr but on other platform are totally fine and thank u!!!

my cregan stark reccomendation masterlist

[prythianpages]

Into the Dark | Eris

Eris x Chaos Witch Reader | Summary: You have a vow to uphold but time is clicking. The darkness that lurks within threatens to take over you but Eris uses the magic of your bargain and bond to bring you back to him.

Day 1 of @erisweekofficial for bargains/bonds

warnings: brief mentions of small injuries (cuts) and death

a/n: This was originally supposed to be posted along with my other witch series but 3K words is too long to be considered a drabble so I decided to post it on its own. I had hoped to post an intro/prologue for this series first but I really wanted to post something for Eris week so I hope this makes sense. If not, then I'm so sorry and hope this can be read as a stand alone for now.

Whispers in the wind stir violently among the Autumn trees, sending leaves spiraling to their fated downfall. A shiver runs up your spine as the wind’s cold fingers grip you, goosebumps rising in a wave over your skin, threatening to burrow into your very bones. The whispers are not just furious—they are vengeful.

A storm of voices lashing at you. 

Your heart hammers madly against your chest as your legs move on their own, driven by those whispers. The moon casts its silver light upon you but tonight, it offers no comfort. There’s something dark, something wicked awakening from somewhere deep inside.

Branches claw at your exposed arms and ankles, tearing into your flesh. But your feet keep moving. Relentless, unstoppable. Even as your vision blurs and your mind drowns in the chilling darkness. You don’t need to see where you’re going—you can feel it.

It’s like a pull deep within. You can feel the gloom looming ahead. The despair, the anguish. With each step, that pull grows stronger, the wind grows colder. It brushes against your skin, tangling in your hair. The trouble stirring in your chest harmonizes with the whispers carried in the howling wind, threatening to pull you down with them.

“Please.” You find yourself whispering–begging.

“We need you.” The wind whispers in protest.

Your steps falter, and as you blink to clear your vision, a cold dread settles in your chest. 

The sight before you is almost unrecognizable, a stark contrast to the place that once thrived with life and vibrant energy. Now, it lies shrouded in darkness, a harrowing shadow of its former self. The autumn flowers, once bright and full of life, wither on their stems, their colors drained. The trees nearby are twisted and gnarled, their ashen branches sagging under the weight of despair.

There were no fireflies fluttering about, no chirping of cricket or night birds. No sign of life. Only death.

It’s eerily silent for a moment until the wind picks up again and the mournful wail of the wind reaches your ears. It sings a song of fury, of vengeful mourning. A lament for what has been lost–what has been wrongfully taken.

At the heart of it all, where a great and magnificent tree once stood proudly, there is now only a void. This was no ordinary tree.

It was the tree of wisdom–the Mnemosyne. It bore magical apples that glowed softly, their surfaces a mesmerizing blend of ruby and gold. Your father had told you stories of it growing up and when you began to practice witchcraft, Deirdre showed it to you.

Deirdre had been your mentor. For many centuries, she had guarded the tree. Sworn to protect it with her life and she took that vow gravely, upheld it until her last breath…

And now, by a wicked strum of fate, it was your turn to protect the Mnemosyne.

But you found yourself in a more precarious situation than your predecessors. High Lord Beron, in a ruthless display of his power, had uprooted the tree and taken it from its sacred grove. Its roots, once intertwined with the ancient magics of the forest, had been severed. Where Beron had taken it, and what he planned to do with the Mnemosyne, was still unknown to you, but by the lengths he had gone to take it, you could only assume his intentions were far from pure.

Returning the Mnemosyne to its rightful home was of the utmost importance. The longer it remained away from the forest, the greater the risk that its memories, and the history it held, would wither and fade. Entire centuries of knowledge could be lost—forgotten forever. The thought chilled your blood, filling you with an overwhelming unease. 

You had to bring this tree back and restore peace to this forest. Even if it cost you the same price it cost Deirdre. Death was a stranger but not one you feared. It was oblivion you feared. To lose the very essence of yourself. It’s why you refused to let the wicked darkness that lives in you take over. You feared it’d consume you whole.

So Eris Vanserra it was. 

Desperate times had called for desperate measures. You found yourself striking a bargain with Eris Vanserra, Beron’s eldest son. Eris, with his sharp eyes and sharper tongue, had always been a figure of suspicion and intrigue. His loyalty to Beron was unclear, but his cunning and ambition were undeniable.  

Never had you imagined seeking his help. Caught in a delicate dance of mistrust and shared ambition, the bargain was the only way to ensure your safety. That was, until fate played a merciless hand and those strings of fate tethered your soul to his…

A mating bond.

It snapped into place like a steel trap, the golden threads appearing the moment your life teetered on the edge of danger. There had been no warning. Only a sudden, fierce tug that anchored your soul to his. One heartbeat you were fighting for survival, and in the next, you felt the bond latch onto you. Irrevocable and final.

You should thank The Cauldron—it did save your life, after all—but at what cost?

You’d worry about it later. At the very least, the invisible chain that bound your fates together strengthened the bargain you made. A mutual safety net. If you died, a part of him died too. Any loophole of betrayal the two of you had planned had been immediately forfeited the moment the bond snapped.

Because yes, he had promised to help you with the Mnemosyne tree and you had promised to help rid Autumn of Beron. A win-win situation for you both. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t coax him with one of your potions, poison his mind as you’ve done with his brothers to encourage him to do more of your bidding…

However, now it did. There were some things uncertain to you about mating bonds and you worried about potential consequences if you were to sneak one of your potions into his food.

Tears pricked your eyes as the whispers increased with the howling wind, a distant echo of sorrowful cries and anguished screams. It brought you back to the dire situation at hand. The very reason for your deal with Eris.

The forest wanted you to feel what it did. To feel the overwhelming grief, the melancholic heartache. It stirred the shadows sleeping in the pendant you wore around your neck–the ones that harmonize with the darkness that lives inside you now.

 “It’s a burden you must carry.” 

“No,” you cried, dropping to your knees, fingers clenching around the ruby pendant. It was a futile attempt to soothe the shadows kept inside back to sleep. “I can do it. I just need more time. Please.”

But it’s not the whispers carried by the wind that respond this time.

It’s that wicked darkness that has been lurking within you.

The forest grows angry. If you do not answer its call, we will.

That darkness writhes further into your chest. Your breath hitches as you feel it wrap itself around your heart, your body hunching forward.

You cannot keep us away. You are us now and we are you.

“No.” You repeat again but your voice is losing its resolve.

Let us out!

As if hearing that dark voice within, the wind picks up, whirling around you like the beginning of a storm. The whispers in the wind grow louder and so do the voices in your head until you can no longer discern which is which. With a pained cry, you clutch your pulsing and aching head.

You squeeze your eyes shut, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as you try to push the looming darkness away. It’s another futile attempt. The darkness has a firm grip on you, awakened by the howling wind and strengthened by its screaming pleas…

**

Eris found you in the forest.

One glance at you and he knew what was happening. Your body was hunched over, trembling hands pressed tightly against your ears as the wind whirled around you violently, rustling through your hair. The three hounds he brought with him tensed and let out low growls, their keen eyes on the glowing pendant wrapped around your neck.

The hour was late and he had been about to succumb to the sleep his eyes had begged for when he felt a strange stirring in his chest. Until he recognized that it was coming from the bond–from you. The two of you often shut each other out. He did not want to project his emotions to you and he sensed you felt the same.

So for him to feel a tug against his ribcage from you…he knew something was wrong or about to be.

Eris turns to his hounds, the sharpest of his pack. He now realized why they had been insistent on coming with him. The others had tucked themselves into their beds after a goodnight pat on their heads. “Stay,” he says firmly and though their instincts sense danger, they heed his command. Albeit, reluctantly.

He approaches you with slow and cautious steps, despite the urge to run to you. He tells himself it’s the bond. As he gets closer, he can hear you murmuring something but it doesn’t sound like you. Your voice carries a venomous undertone, dripping with malice and ancient wisdom. 

“You are us now and we are you.” The voice repeats over and over again like a serpent hissing in the dark.

A lump forms in his throat but he wills himself to call out your name, hoping you hear him among the many voices swirling around you.

He watches with bated breath as your hands, still trembling, fall from where they had clutched at your ears. Slowly, your head lifts upwards. Your gaze meets his and he finds himself held captive.

Your eyes are glowing red, the way they always do when you call upon your magic. But it’s not that crimson gaze that had startled him. It’s the veins surrounding your eyes that do–they have darkened, giving you a more sinister appearance.

“Son of Autumn. Have you come to play?”

The hounds, who remained feet away, release another growl.

“Y/n, can you hear me?” Eris asks, his heart racing as his amber eyes search your face for any sign of you.

Something flickers in those crimson eyes of yours, a brief hesitation that makes the darkness falter. Eris noticed it instantly, his heart tightening with a sudden urgency that compels him to step closer. He can feel you now—the sharp chill emanating from your body, a coldness that bites at his cheeks. It sends a shiver down his spine as the breeze rustles through his hair.

His body instinctively warms in response, the fire in his veins flaring brighter as if to combat the icy dread that clings to you. You were trembling, and Eris kneels before you, his eyes never straying from yours. He reaches out tentatively to that bond but is met with a steel wall.

So he reaches out physically. You flinch at the warmth coming from him before he can actually touch you and fall back onto your hands. It seems the darkness within you is desperate to put distance between you both.

“She needs us. She can’t do this alone.”

“But you’re not alone,” Eris says softly, ignoring the darkness and speaking directly to you. He knew better than to acknowledge the voice, fearing it would only give it more power. “You have me.”

“The forest wants its beloved back.” The voice hisses and your head tilts slightly, gaze narrowing at him. “It grows more restless every night. Fear makes you hesitate but not us. We can do what you cannot bring yourself to do.”

“Y/n.” Eris calls your name again. This time, when he reaches for you, his hands find their mark, cupping your face with a tenderness that surprises even him. Your skin is frighteningly cold. It fills him with a deep unease, a desperate need to bring warmth back to you.

Your trembling begins to subside, and the wind that had howled around you starts to calm. Eris remains cautious but feels a glimmer of hope. He could do this. He could bring you back. “We made a bargain, remember?” he continued.

“A bargain…”

That glimmer of hope flares up as you sound like you again. Something he’d never thought he’d feel as he often complained about your voice–how it could grate on his nerves. But now, it was the only sound he longed to hear.

The mark of your bargain appears–a ring of fire around your wrist–at the mention of it. It burns faintly with embers like a delicate bracelet, reminding you of the promise you made. That very same ring of fire appears on his left wrist, reflecting in your eyes. It fades away after a moment but the burn of it lingers.

“Yes.” Eris almost smiles. “Y/n, are you with me?”

Your body gives a shudder, wanting to escape from him. His hold on you tightens. The red glow to your eyes slowly gives out, the veins that had darkened around your eyes disappearing. Color returns to your cheeks, coaxed back by the warmth Eris is pouring into you.

“I’m with you,” you breath, your eyes wide with lingering apprehension. Eris’s hands remain firm on your face, holding you steady as you eyes wander. When you look back at him, your eyes seem distant, unfocused.

His brows draw together in concern, casting shadows over his troubled eyes. But before he can say anything, you do, a trace of your usual scorn creeping into your voice. “Why are you looking at me as if I’ve grown two heads?”

There you are.

Relief washes over him, so warm and overwhelming that it brings back that tightness in his chest, strumming those golden threads. The urge to pull you into his arms, to hold you close and never let go, is almost overpowering. But Eris ignores it, instead leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours.

You were no longer cold. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding—a sound that was half-sigh, half-laugh. A mixture of relief and something else he wasn’t ready to name.

“Have you gone mad?”

“No,” Eris replies, reluctantly releasing his hold on you. The warmth of his touch lingering on your skin as he straightens up. He brushes at the leaves clinging to his pants, an attempt to regain his usual composure. “But you almost did.”

He extends his hand out to you and you stare at it for a moment, your gaze heavy with the weight of what had just transpired. “It happened again…” Your voice was barely a whisper, more to yourself than to him. Realization settled over you and your shoulders slump.

“Come on,” Eris says, motioning for you to take his hand. The sound of familiar whines catch your attention, and you look up to see three hounds, waiting anxiously a few feet away. “The hour is late and I’m already dreading dealing with a sleep-deprived version of you. Your usual self is enough of a bane in my existence.”

You shoot him a glare and he waits, watching you. He wonders if you’ll bite back. With a resigned sigh, you take his hand, allowing him to help you up. His gaze flickers to your arms, noticing the scratches that marred your skin and the bond in his chest rages with protectiveness.

“We can stop by the infirmary first.”

“I’ll be fine,” you huff out but that distant look on your face remains, betraying your words.

The hounds approach you with soft whines. They’re careful not to brush against the cuts on your arms, their noses nudging softly against your legs instead. Your hand remains in Eris’s and he takes a step forward, prompting you to let him guide you out of the forest.

A light breeze brushes against you, carrying with it the lingering chill of the mourning forest. You turn your head, your gaze falling on that vacant spot where the sacred tree once stood. Your features soften, a wave of sympathy washing over you. Your heart aches to fill the void, to restore what had been unjustly taken and bring life back to this part of the forest.

But you were running out of time.

The darkness within you was growing stronger with each passing day. If you didn’t return the sacred tree soon, the darkness would come for you again, more relentless, more determined…

“Eris?"

There’s a slight vulnerability to your voice that unsettles him. It has his body tensing. He can only muster a hum in response.

“What if–” Your throat seizes and you’re  grateful your head is turned away from Eris so he can’t see the fear that flashes in your eyes. “What if one day I don’t come back?”

Eris’s hand tightens around yours and a shaky breath escapes from you. His hand is strong and warm and for just this once, you allow the simple touch to ground you. When you finally turn to face him, you find his gaze was already on you, something strange and vulnerable swirling in those amber depths. 

That look in his eyes was enough to chase away the cold that had settled in your bones, kindling a warmth to your chest and tugging those golden threads that now reside there.

“Then, I’ll follow you into the dark.”

His words hung in the air, but a question arose. Would he still follow if it weren’t for the bond?

The thought hovered, restless, at the edge of your tongue, begging to be spoken. But you swallowed it down, unwilling to risk hearing an answer you already believed to be true.

You didn’t think you could bear it if you were right.

[eris x chaos witch masterlist]

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Hi, bestie, I’ve a request with our Tony for you

“that looks too big”

“wow, are you sure this is your first time?”

“you’re doing really well”

Thank you ❤️

The experience of a lifetime

Pairing || Best friend!Tony Stark x Best friend!Fem!Reader

Wordcount || ~ 925 words

Summary || When you come to Tony with an unexpected request, he can't help but think about the possible consequences. Once he agrees with you, he can't help but think about why you two haven't done this sooner, and he can't wait to return the favor, either.

Rating || Explicit (E)

Tags || Friends to friends with benefits. Hints of mutual pining. Explicit sexual content.

Smut || Oral (M receiving). Blowjob. Cum swallowing.

A/n || BESTIE. I have one thing to say, and that is I fucking love you! Oh, my dear good lord, you have unleashed something in me with this drabble, and I am forever grateful! Thank you for proofreading it, and it was my honor to have written this amazing story for you! 🤍

Photo: @ccbsrmsf1 || All other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || FWB!Tony Stark || Summer of Drabbles

"You want to... what?" Tony asks, unsure if he heard you correctly when you asked him if you could give him a blowjob. It's something you've never done before, and you're very curious about what it's like.

"I want to suck your dick," you tell him again, and this time he hums as if he's trying to let it sink in. Out of all the things that went through his head when he saw you come into his lab not even five minutes ago, this definitely wasn't one of the things that crossed his mind.

"I- uhm... Yeah," he says after thinking about it for a short moment. He's been madly in love with you for as long as he can remember, and he would be stupid to say no to an offer like this, though he's also a bit nervous, afraid it might change something in a way you won't be able to come back from.

"Do you want me to do it now, or...?" you ask, and Tony's mind is in overdrive. A blowjob, now?!

"If you- I mean, if that's what you want," he says shyly, and you can't stop smiling at his shy demeanor.

"It is!" you say in a cheerful voice, and a few moments later, you find yourself on your knees as he works on opening his pants, his hands trembling with nerves and excitement. Your next sight is one you did not expect in the slightest, and your jaw drops at the size of his cock.

"T-that- uhm, that looks too big," you say in a soft voice, nerves now settling in your stomach at the thought of what's about to happen. Your confidence when you walk in has lessened, instead making way for the nerves soaring through your body.

"I'm sure we can make it work, Princess; we can take it slow," he says reassuringly, and you nod. You scoot a bit closer until you're between his thighs, your hands resting on them to ground yourself.

Tony works his hand over his length, and all you want to do is have a small taste at first to see what it's like. Carefully, you bend forward with your tongue stuck out, licking the small bead of pre-cum that gathered at his slit with a soft, curious hum. You'd have to get used to the salty taste, but it also leaves you wanting more right away, and you do exactly that.

Your lips wrap around his soft, pink tip as you suckle gently, getting used to both the taste and the texture of his cock. Tony's eyes are slipping shut as you do, soft groans filling the air as you take your time to get used to having something so odd yet perfect in your mouth.

"Hmm, you're doing really well," he praises you, which warms your cheeks as you work more of him into your mouth, your tongue licking the vein on the bottom of his cock to see what it's like. It turns out this is something Tony enjoys, as his hands are placed on your head to guide you and ground himself, too.

As you're getting accustomed to the taste and feel of the stretch in your mouth, you keep working more of him into your mouth, resulting in Tony groaning loudly from the pleasure. For the first time, you're doing very well and proud of yourself as you pull back again, the feeling becoming almost natural.

"I want to swallow for you, Tony," you say after letting him go with a wet pop, and the grunt that leaves Tony's lips as he tries not to cum on the spot enables you to know he loves the thought of letting go in your mouth.

"Before I do that, I have to ask you one thing, Princess," he says, and you sit back to meet his gaze.

"Are you sure this is your first time?"

The laugh that leaves your lips has Tony smiling wide, and his heart feels like it's gonna beat out of his chest as he looks at you. You have stolen his heart, and now you're gonna let him cum in your mouth as well, making you his favorite person ever.

This time, instead of taking him in your mouth again, you decide to play with the long, protruding vein on the bottom of his length, running your tongue over it as your hand gently works back and forth as well.

"P-Princess," Tony stumbles, and you look at him through your lashes as you suckle on his tip, which has him dangerously close to the edge. You decide to take the hint, and before you know it, your best friend is emptying his balls in your mouth with a deep shout of your name, changing your dynamic in a way you won't be able to come back from, but you don't mind.

"I- fuck," Tony curses, his chest rising and falling quickly after you've worked him through his orgasm.

"Let me return the favor, Princess," Tony says with lust-blown eyes, and your pussy clenches in excitement as he does. While you were nothing more than friends when you walked into his lab less than an hour ago, you're now heading towards friends with benefits, which you're not complaining about.

"I thought you'd never ask," you say before getting up and sitting on his desk, your legs spread to reveal you're completely bare underneath your skirt. It's like you have planned this from the beginning, and Tony has fallen for it - and you - exactly like you thought he would.

[pinkykats-place]

GoT DILF(s) x reader insert fics

Tumblr Recommendations

Disclaimers!

Stories are NOT mine.

Some contain mature content.

Readers are mostly female.

Note: if you read any of these stories and enjoy them pls let the author know by rebloggung, liking or commenting on original post

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[entitled-fangirl]

Thought of this little random drabble :>

..........................................

One by one, the Lords and Ladies of the realm bent the knee to Otto, giving their support to the Usurper, Aegon II.

Towards the back stood Y/N Stark, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. She was married to Lord Cregan Stark not long before.

What a mistake visiting her grandsire on his deathbed had been.

She watched them all bend to their knees until only a few were left standing. 

Overcome with grief, she hardly noticed the others being escorted out if they disobeyed.

Otto stood in front of her, his head tilted down as he studied her. "And House Stark?"

She let her eyes slowly wander up to meet his. "I…" She looked past him, the image of Lord Larys becoming clear. 

Her uncle. 

Perhaps in another world, she may have inherited Harrenhall, to rule in her true father's name. 

Now, she stood stiffly in the cold hall, the presence of the Iron Throne intimidating. 

"I do not know, my lord. I do not speak for House Stark, for I am not their Lord-"

"- But you are a Princess." Otto counted. "Surely you know more than you let on."

"Perhaps I do, and perhaps I do not." She gained a boldness and her shoulders pushed back. "I know many things. I was raised by a wise mother and brave father."

She noticed the way Larys' brow twitched.

She should be behaving in a wiser manner, but the amount of men and women bowing in the room was making her nervous.

"Princess," Otto cooed. "You've never known what a true father is."

Her jaw clenched and she looked down at the ground. "Aye, seems you do not either."

She flinched when he raised the back of his hand to her in frustration. 

"State the North's intentions," he growled.

"You ask me to tell you the way the sun rises and sets? Or the way rivers run? I do not have to. Such things never falter. Never change."

Otto let out a growl, "That is not entirely an answer."

"You've asked me to betray my own mother and her birthright. You ask Lord Stark to break an oath. These are both impossible to ask, my lord." She gritted her teeth, "Never has a Stark become an oathbreaker on a whim. Nor will I."

She tensed, waiting for Otto's reaction, but a sharp laugh came from him and he stepped back. "You've inherited your mother's gall. You do not know when to stop."

"If you plan to kill me, get it over with. One less thing on your plate. Makes all the more room on the table when Queen Rhaenyra serves your head on a platter."

Otto makes a small 'tsk' at her. "Your lord husband will be most angry with you."

"Cregan will be angered with you, my lord- for whatever it is you plan to do to his wife."

"Take her to her chambers. Do not let her leave. Write to House Stark and inform Lord Cregan that he must come to King's Landing to declare his loyalty. If not, I will send his wife back- in a bag."

A guard grabs her bicep and she begins to fight them. "If the North comes for your usurper, Lord Hand, he will fall."

Otto tilts his head back and forth in thought. "Perhaps. I will just have to ensure the North doesn't come. Just Lord Stark. Won't I?"

"I once thought you an honorable man!" She yelled as she was drug from the room. "You have no honor! You have no nobility! And all who stand with you! Cregan will murder you as you deserve!"

Pushing down the twisted feeling in his gut, Otto turned away from his old friend's beloved granddaughter to resume his plot.

He hoped it would work.

For anywhere Lord Stark leads, the North follows. 

............................................

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 #𝟐

© Intoxicated-Chan 2023, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. I only have one other platform and that’s Wattpad (same name).

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