#medieval gifs

[medievalsnippets]

Source

[asgardian-angel]

I was trying to put together something cool with this Aragorn and Geralt you know some kind of crossover universal tavern and found this last gif and it fits too perfectly someone help me.

[fongnicolas]

[m3dieval]

Probably more than you ever wanted to know about 15th century armoured codpieces (a video by Arne Koets). But also a bit about groin armour in general.

[texaschainsawmascara]

jprgd on ig

[brokenbard]

　　 ͜ ˖ ̣̣̣†﹒　︵ ♱ ︵　﹒†˖̣̣̣ ͜

　݁ ᚐ◟ ྀ Medieval Pixels 𑑓

　　 ノ︶︶ 𓈒 F2u W credit ۫

[baelarys]

THE WOLF

Lord cregan stark X reader targaryen

word count : 2669

Warning : Fluff :)

The war had ended. Rhaenyra had perished, Aegon had died, and the dragons had ceased to exist. The letter you received from King’s Landing confirmed these events and proclaimed Aegon III as the new king.

The Stark army had already taken the capital, and ravens were sent to every lord in Westeros, urging them to bend the knee to the new monarch. Storm’s End was the first to submit. Lord Stark, who had assumed control of King’s Landing until the culprits of your brother’s poisoning were captured, ordered that you and your niece, Princess Jaehaera, betrothed to Aegon and the future queen, travel back to the capital.

The journey was long and tedious. Accompanied by Jaehaera and some daughters of Lady Baratheon, who had been sent to serve as the queen's ladies-in-waiting, you arrived in King’s Landing. Though these young women were likely hostages, their presence ensured that House Baratheon would not rebel again.

Upon arrival, the city felt both familiar and foreign. The people cheered for their new queen, hailing her as you and Jaehaera were transported in the carriage towards the castle.

The little girl clung to the sleeve of your dress as she observed the crowd. It was no wonder she was not an ordinary child; she had witnessed the death of her twin, lost her siblings, mother, and father. Though just a child, her gaze reflected a depth of sorrow acquired at a great cost.

You thought of your mother, the former Queen Alicent, now consumed by hatred and madness, according to what you had heard. Concern and sadness mingled in your heart as you prepared to face her.

Lord Corlys Velaryon greeted you at the entrance, accompanied by the young King Aegon III and Lord Cregan Stark. You could not deny Lord Stark’s imposing presence; his grand furs, despite the sweltering heat of the capital, spoke of his northern heritage.

Aegon III, at eleven years old, displayed a seriousness beyond his age. His features, inherited from his mother and father, bore the marks of ancient Valyria: dark violet eyes, almost black, and platinum-white hair. Beside him stood his cupbearer, Gaemon Palehair, the bastard of your brother, who was derisively called the "Rabbit King" by the people and his mother when they took the castle.

“My king,” you said, bowing to the young monarch.

“Princess,” greeted the Sea Snake, stepping forward. You observed Corlys, whose face, though lined with age, still radiated the authority and wisdom of yesteryears, qualities he had shown when your father was king. “Welcome back to your home.”

Corlys’s tone was firm but warm. The Red Keep, with its towering walls, seemed to whisper tales of glory and tragedy, and your return was just another chapter in that vast history.

As you moved into the castle, you hoped Lord Stark would say something, but he remained in quiet reserve throughout the journey. His presence was imposing yet unobtrusive, allowing you to acclimate to your surroundings in peace.

Everything looked as familiar as it was distant. The corridors, now enveloped in constant silence, were the same ones where you and your siblings used to play, filling them with laughter and voices now reduced to echoes of a distant past.

You were escorted to your former chambers. Before entering, you exchanged a final glance with Lord Stark. His eyes, filled with a silent understanding, seemed to offer you a tacit comfort amidst the confusion of your return.

Upon opening the door, you were met with a poignant sight: your belongings remained in the same place where you left them when you had to flee the day Rhaenyra took the city. The room seemed frozen in time, a sanctuary of unaltered memories amidst the ravages of war.

Every object, every detail, evoked a fragment of your past life. The childhood toys, the books you had eagerly read, the fabrics and adornments you had carefully chosen to make this space a reflection of yourself, were all there, waiting for you.

You hoped Aegon III’s reign would be peaceful. He and Jaehaera were to be married in two days, giving the realm something to celebrate. As you immersed yourself in your thoughts, one of your new ladies-in-waiting entered the room, announcing that you could see your mother now.

To be honest, the news did not excite you; rather, it filled you with dread. You nodded as you followed the lady to the Maegor’s Holdfast, where two guards stood watch over your mother’s chambers.

Queen Alicent appeared haggard. Her room, once adorned with greens and the Hightower sigils, had lost all traces of its former splendor. The tapestries and decorations that had once symbolized her power and status had vanished, leaving behind a coldness that reflected her current state.

Alicent turned to look at you, her eyes sunken and dim. You did not know what to do. The contrast between the mother you remembered and the figure before you was striking. The strength she had once shown seemed to have dissipated, leaving you face-to-face with a woman consumed by pain and despair.

“Mother,” you said softly, taking a step towards her.

Alicent regarded you with a mix of recognition and distrust. Her lips moved slightly, as if attempting to form words that refused to emerge. The room was in a deathly silence, broken only by the faint murmur of the guards in the hallway.

“Daughter,” she finally responded, her voice a faint whisper laden with contained emotion.

You approached her cautiously, unsure of how to comfort her in her current state. You sat beside her bed, taking her hand in yours. Alicent’s skin was cold and rough, a reflection of her suffering.

“I am here, mother,” you said firmly, trying to convey the strength she so desperately needed.

Alicent closed her eyes, a solitary tear sliding down her cheek. The pain of past years was palpable, and you knew that recovery would be slow and difficult. But in that moment, your presence was a small ray of hope in her darkness.

The conversation with your mother was brief and fragmented, but each shared word was a step towards reconciliation. When you finally rose to leave, you felt a small bond had been restored between you.

As you descended the stairs, you encountered Lord Cregan Stark in the vestibule. His presence, though silent, exuded a quiet strength. His eyes, serene but vigilant, regarded you with a mix of curiosity and respect.

“Princess,” he said, inclining his head slightly.

“Lord Stark,” you responded, returning the nod.

The silence settled between you, creating a tense but not uncomfortable atmosphere. The men of the North were not known for their friendliness or talkativeness, and Lord Cregan Stark was no exception. However, his presence conveyed a seriousness and commitment that did not go unnoticed.

“Are you enjoying your stay in the capital, Lord Stark?” you asked, attempting to break the ice with a question.

“I would enjoy it more if the circumstances that brought me here were different,” Cregan replied with a cold tone, his face as serious as ever.

You nodded. “I understand, milord. The circumstances surrounding us are far from ideal.”

Cregan looked at you for a moment, his grey eyes scrutinizing yours. “Do you not wonder who was responsible for your brother’s death?” he suddenly asked.

The question took you by surprise. The truth was, you had not deeply considered it. Aegon deserved that end; he was your brother, but perhaps it was for the best.

“Anyone could have done it, and besides, what purpose would it serve to torment myself with that?” you sighed, lowering your gaze. “Aegon III would have been his heir after all.”

Cregan nodded slowly, his expression showing a hint of approval. “True, the succession was clear. But justice is important, and the guilty must be found and punished.”

“Indeed,” you responded, lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. “And will you be the new Hand of the King?”

Cregan shook his head. “No, my place is in the North with my people,” he replied firmly. “I will leave once I find someone to manage the realm until the king is old enough to fully assume his responsibilities.”

"Understood," you said, feeling a mix of respect and admiration for his sense of duty. "Your commitment to your people is truly admirable."

Cregan nodded, a faint glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. "The North has its own needs and challenges. I can't stay here forever, but I hope things stabilize soon."

"I hope so too," you replied. "The situation isn't the easiest, but with the right cooperation, I'm sure we can move forward."

"I hope so," Cregan said. "In the meantime, I'll ensure the kingdom has the necessary direction until I can return to the North."

"That's all anyone can ask for," you said. "I appreciate your willingness to help in this transition."

The conversation, though brief, was quite gratifying. You retreated to your room to resume your old duties, those you had set aside during the war. It was a moment to take up the tasks that once were part of your daily life.

A month had passed since your return to King's Landing, and life in the capital was beginning to find a new balance. Aegon and Jaehaera's wedding had taken place without incident, and most seemed to accept this new chapter in the kingdom's history. Lord Corlys Velaryon had taken on the role of Hand of the King with an efficiency that surprised no one, while Lord Cregan Stark and his men prepared to return to the North.

However, among the new debates in the council, a matter arose that directly affected you. Marriage was a topic that, in times of peace, was treated with the same seriousness as in times of war. You were already of age to consider a suitable marriage, and several lords had shown interest in your hand.

The council actively discussed the best path forward, considering both your personal needs and political ones. Marriage, in the context of nobility, was not simply a bond between two people but a strategy that could affect the balance of power and alliances within the kingdom.

Meanwhile, you found yourself at a crossroads. On one hand, there was a desire to preserve your autonomy and make decisions based on your own desires and aspirations. On the other, the reality that a marriage could be a crucial strategic tool to consolidate alliances and strengthen the position of your House.

You had shown interest in several knights, though your attention had particularly focused on the lord of the North. The encounters in the hallways and conversations in the gardens had revealed a connection that went beyond mere courtesy. The mutual attraction between you and Lord Cregan Stark was evident, though kept with the discretion that court politics required.

When Lord Cregan made the formal proposal of marriage, no displeasure was shown on your part. On the contrary, the proposal was received with a mix of pleasure and expectation. The connection you had established with Cregan, combined with the political stability that a marriage with the lord of the North could provide, made the idea a logical and acceptable option.

The council, upon learning of the proposal, recognized that this union could strengthen relations between the North and the rest of the kingdom, creating a valuable strategic alliance in times of reconstruction.

You prepared to travel to the North, bidding farewell to King Aegon III and your mother. The journey promised to be long and challenging, but you were determined to move forward with this new stage of your life.

The North greeted you with the cold welcome characteristic of the region. The cold was intense and penetrating, a stark contrast to the warmer climate of King's Landing. Despite the harshness of the weather, Lord Cregan Stark was attentive and ensured that your stay was as comfortable as possible. His efforts to provide warmth and comfort were a tangible sign of his care and concern.

The wedding ceremony was scheduled for that night. The atmosphere in the castle was imbued with a mix of solemnity and anticipation. The ceremony would take place before an imposing weirwood tree, a symbol of the ancient tradition of the North. This majestic tree, with its wrinkled bark and evergreen leaves, would witness your vow to spend the rest of your life alongside your new husband.

The preparation for the ceremony was meticulous. You dressed in an elegant wedding gown adapted to the cold of the North, decorated with embroidery reflecting the region's tradition. Every detail was carefully considered to honor both your new family and the customs of the place.

As night fell, the castle filled with a warm and soft light, contrasting with the cold outside. Guests gathered around the weirwood tree, while bonfires created a cozy and ceremonial atmosphere.

When the moment came, you approached the tree, feeling the weight and importance of the commitment you were about to make. Lord Cregan, beside you, was equally prepared for the exchange of vows. In the presence of the men of the North and the gods they worshipped, you would pronounce your oaths, hoping that this union would bring both stability and a new beginning for both of you.

"In the Presence of old gods, I bind these two souls, joining them for eternity. Look at each other and say the words," ordered the maester of Winterfell with a solemn voice.

Lord Cregan, holding your hands with firmness and tenderness, recited the vow with a clarity that resonated in the cold night air:

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am hers and she is mine. From this day until the end of my days."

You, with a pounding heart and a voice full of emotion, followed the ritual:

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am his and he is mine. From this day until the end of my days."

As you recited your vows, snow fell gently around you, creating a charming contrast with the warmth of the ceremony and the glow of the bonfire lights. The snowy landscape and the cozy atmosphere of the castle fused into a scene that seemed straight out of an ancient tale.

At the conclusion of the ritual, Cregan looked at you with an expression of deep emotion and devotion. Slowly, he leaned towards you, his eyes reflecting a bright intensity under the torchlight. With infinite delicacy, he placed a hand on your cheek, and his lips gently touched yours.

The kiss began with palpable tenderness, a light contact filled with promises for the future. It was a kiss full of the promise of support and unconditional love, one that extended and deepened over time. The connection between you was evident in every caress and in the way your lips moved in perfect harmony.

The cold night breeze, combined with the warm glow of the ceremony, created a magical atmosphere. The kiss, besides sealing your commitment, seemed to absorb the essence of the night itself, symbolizing the start of a new life together, full of hope and a love that promised to grow with each day.

When you finally parted, Cregan looked at you with a smile that spoke of his joy and commitment. The ceremony, although marked by the winter's cold, had been warm in spirit, and the future that awaited you seemed full of promising possibilities.

[inafieldofdaisies]

The Decameron (2024) | Season 1, Episodes 6 and 8 Parallels | Lou Gala as Neifile and Karan Gill as Panfilo

“I can't seem to die without you.”

[beauty-funny-trippy]

Danse Macabre by John Ciarfuglia

[knight-of-flowerss]

cregan stark headcannons for crushing or a blurb pls ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hii!! I sadly haven’t watched season 2 yet so these are js going off fanon and stuff 😭

Also I’m sorry if this isn’t the best I haven’t wrote properly in a good few months 😭

HOTD Masterlist

CREGAN STARK HEAD CANONS || SFW ||

🃃 Cregan Stark is a stoic man. A Stark man. A full beard at such a young age (ik that in the show he don’t have a beard or summin but these are my head canons and he’s a Stark so-).

🃟 He’s the Winterfell darling basically. It was a running ‘joke’ that every girl wants him and every man wants to be him. And it was 100% true.

🃃 And this is how you ended up here. Staring at the young lord with adoration infecting your eyes.

🃟 Your young heart couldn’t contain the crush that had bubbled over. You had known of this man barely a few months and thanks to your brother, you saw him pretty much everyday.

🃃 Preparing for war wasn’t easy for anyone. But with Cregan’s dashing smile reassuring your family during this crisis, how could you not swoon?

🃟 His eyes, his hair, his beard, his smile. Everything about this man was perfect, you melted whenever you saw him.

🃃 Every time your mother was called into a meeting with Cregan, your brother and your step-father, you jumped at the opportunity to accompany her, claiming that “We’re family mother, we should stick by eachother.”.

🃟 Yes you just lied to your dear mother to get closer to your little crush, do you give a fuck? Fuck no. I mean have y’all seen the Starks? They’re literal sex gods.

🃃 In these meetings, you sat down near the vast table they often bickered at over battle tactics while you started in awe at them all, admiration of your mother, respect for your brother, intimidation of your step-father and desire for Cregan.

🃟 While sat in these meetings you’ll take sneaky glances over at Cregan and for a while, he didn’t even glance your way, give you a passing thought. But after a while you noticed his eyes… lingering.

🃃 One day you were walking around Dragonstone with Joffrey, admiring the sheer beauty of your home when all of a sudden, long dark locks catch your attention.

🃟 At first glance you thought it was Jace, he grew his hair out and really started to become your father more and more with each passing day.

🃃 You look down and see expensive furs trailing the floor as the cape the figure was wearing sweeped up any un-seen muck from the ground.

🃟 You trailed your eyes up and met with frosty-grey eyes peering back at you.

🃃 A sly smirk adorns his rough face, his eyes burning holes into yours.

🃟 Your cheeks flush as your lips part, plump and soft, your front teeth peeking through.

🃃 His large frame stalks towards you, boots beating on the stone floors, striding with a cunty confidence.

🃟 The seven had surely blessed this man. He was sent from the Maiden herself.

🃃 A shadow casts over you, the sun immediately cowering from your soft features. Your doe eyes peer up, looking past your dark decorated hair to trail up to his face.

🃟 After a lengthy few seconds of sexually charged silence, Joffrey speaks up.

🃃 “When are we going to the library sister?”

🃟 You blinked out of your trance. Your head moving towards your baby brother while your eyes stay on Cregan’s, but eventually your eyes drift away from him and set upon your brother.

🃃 “Uh- oh yes uhm, we’ll go now brother.”, your head moves to Cregan, “It’s nice to see you again Lord Stark, I hope it won’t be the last time we all see each other on this visit of yours.”

🃟 Cregan nods, once curved lips, that formed a smirk, fall into a flat line as he agrees, “Of course your grace, I’ll see you both in the hall for the feast.”

🃃 The next time you see the rugged man, it’s the feast in the hall a few hours later.

🃟 You were sat with Joffrey on your left and your other little brother Viserys. Your baby brother had smacked his food out of the maids hands so you offered to feed him something while she cleaned the very large mess.

🃃 Your hand dips the spoon into the oats to lift a hefty amount onto the cutlery, heading towards your huffy brothers opened mouth, little did you know his hand would fly up and smack the spoon into your face.

🃟 A shocked gasp left your mouth as you stared at Viserys, his face lighting up and giggling, you couldn’t help the soft smile that graced your oat-y features.

🃃 You quickly got up and went to clean up before anyone noticed and you didn’t want the attention on you due to your appearance.

🃟 But as you hurried through the doors to clean up, eyes followed your body across the hall. Cregan’s mouth curved into a smile and a small chuckle left his lips.

🃃 But, when you came back you saw something that angered you, more than any amount of oats poured on you could.

🃟 A young woman, a daughter of some Lord that was supporting your mother, was throwing herself all over Cregan.

🃃 And he was enjoying it.

🃟 ‘I shouldn’t be jealous,

you aren’t even mine.’

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom

[rotting-cave-fungus]

[muchomago]

[biblicallyaccurategirlblogger]

medieval princess core 🤍👑

[m3dieval]

[Video - Dequitem]

[texaschainsawmascara]

jprgd on ig

[whiteskullofroses]

Baldwin IV of Jerusalem x physician!reader

(Before any of you get mad this is about Baldwin from Kingdom of Heaven not the actual historical figure.)

🩷Imagine Baldwin receiving the medication for leprosy along with a new physician who has to see his face for the first time and makes him feel comfortable about it🩷

"Y/N Y/L/N, is that who you must be?" Sibylla questioned. You had just been preparing to leave for the Palace, in which you'd be treating the King when she rode up to you with her horse. Her confidence amazed you, after all she was quite beautiful.

"Yes, my lady." Looking up at her with a bit of a struggle, since it was a hot summer day, the Sun was high up in the sky causing your eyes to burn when gazing up at her.

"Good. Follow me." She ordered and waited a short while for you to straddle your horse as well. You named your horse Sihara. You felt the need to do so as she was always with you on your travels. You were blessed with the privilege of having a loyal horse, tying her to a tree to avoid losing her was unnecessary. She simply never left you.

After you two left, there was another 15 minutes before you'd arrive to the Palace because the city was heavily crowded. Neither of you spoke much, from time to time Sibylla would as you questions regarding your medical career. It was reasonable of course. Her brothers life, whom she loved regardless his illness, was now at your hands.

This put a great amount of pressure on you. If anything went wrong, the people would kill you. She and her fellow men and women of power would hunt you down no matter for how long you'd hide.

But what could go wrong? All you had to do was apply cream on his open wounds for about 3 months until they'd heal and you'd go on with your life.

~.................~

"This way." Sibylla pointed to a long corridor with two guards standing at each side. There was another hallway on the right before you'd finally arrive to your patient.

The walk was filled with anxiety. You could feel your stomach twisting inside out with every step you took. You've saved many many lives and have helped many many people to gain back their health but this time it felt like it was your first time in the medical field. Like it was your first time keeping one on this Earth.

Maybe it was because this was your first time treating royalty?

But when you reached the doorway and saw the king sitting with his back to you, all worries went away. In a weird way, you could feel his calming and peaceful energy from afar, telling you 'everything will be alright.'

You weren't sure how to announce your presence in the room, but thankfully the King heard you walking and was about to make that clear.

"Come forward." His voice loud and clear. The way he carried himself, as though he wasn't sick fascinated you and had you admire him deeply.

He turned around on his chair to have a look at you, as you bowed.

"No do not kneel." Surprised, you got back up and straightened your back. "I'm glad to meet (your father's name)'s daughter. He was a great friend of my father's"

Baldwin got up from his chair and started walking closer to you. "The Saracens say that this disease is God's vengeance against the vanity of our kingdom." He chuckled and added: "My guesses are you are to remedy this so-called curse casted upon me."

"Certainly, my lord." You gave an innocent half smile and nodded.

The king turned his head towards a table: "Come, sit."

As you walked closer you noticed there was displayed the popular game amongst men of power all over the world. Chess.

The two of you sat down, a servant served you wine and than the serious conversation began: "Y/N, I must ask this. How is the healing process going to affect my duties?"

"Not at all." You answered with much confidence. "All I have to do is apply the medicine on your wounds and areas that have in general been infected the most." Explaining to him as Baldwin leaned forward, signaling for you to go on: "This should last approximately 2 to 3 months."

You could sence that he was nervous. After all he was still so young and probably still insecure about his features, as much as someone with a disease that disfigures you can be.

"My lord, you can trust me. Worrying is out of the question here, after all I've been in the medical field all my life. I promise to you I won't let you down." Your words were full of pure determination to save him, they cut so deep into his heart in the best way possible he could just tear up.

~.................~

As you were mixing up the cream that was soon ready to be applied, the tension in the room was indescribable. Baldwin layed on the bed almost unmoving.

His upper body and legs were exposed. What you could see from the start was that his left arm was most infected, than any other body part.

Besides that he still had his mask on, which he would have to remove at some point to get the full healing process done.

The medicine was prepared. You put on your gloves and went to work.

"My lord, if you feel any discomfort during this, please warn me immediately." You stated.

He nodded and even though you couldn't see it because of the mask, the young man was blushing. So far all his personal physicians were males, and since he was sick he was never really touched by a woman in the slightest, besides his mother when he was younger, so of course he was flustered.

You applied the cream firstly on his left arm, being extra careful and waiting for any signs of nausea from the king. Sometimes treating people who have been infected with leprosy can be quite a pain since vomiting and dizziness are common side effects. Luckily the king was doing just fine and in silence you slowly applied the cream all over him. Except his face.

"My lord, may you now remove your mask please?" You smiled softly at him, really trying to get the young king to get comfortable around you since you'd be doing this for 3 months together.

"Is it necessary?" He hesitated. Feelings of shame and insecurity flooded his mind. He never let anyone see his full face, especially not a young woman whom he learned love to gossip around since his sister and her friends used to do it for as long back as he can remember. But this time it was different, and you wanted him to understand so badly: "I understand you may not feel comfortable doing so, but trust me I wish the best for you. To have this treatment the most affective it can be, I'll need to apply it on your face too." You explained as gently as you could.

After a moment, he did it. And he looked beautiful. His face was decorated with a pair of blue eyes and soft locks of golden hair. His face was of course infected, he didn't have a nose and there appeared to be a quite litteral hole in his right cheek but you didn't care. He was handsome no one could deny that.

So you smiled and commented: "My lord, I really can't comprehend why you were so afraid."

He looked up at you, who was now slowly smearing the medicine on his face.

"Is it really that hard to understand?" He sighed.

"My lord, you look just as handsome as any. Infected or not. You are someone young men should look up to. A true God's warrior."

He took a deep breath in, smelling the healing herbs on him.

When you turned around, he shed a tear.

THE END.