#my stark father

[supermarket-goblin]

These dimension 20 characters have similar vibes but illicit very different responses from the intrepid heroes.

[faery-berry-blast]

weird little skeleton boy:

his father: *stark*

[borzoish]

he may have been your father, boy, but he wasn't your daddy

[upongoblinhill]

𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔶 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔉𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

[lycorim]

Oh to be twelve and consumed with girl rage

[naggascradle]

[malleefies]

I've seen other people hc how Jon has these little bouts of making a very Rhaegary melancholic expression and Ned internally panics every time it happens.

[ghostinwinterfell]

yeah the red wedding was bad but actually the worst thing house frey ever did was lothar frey giving catelyn stark his condolences for bran and rickon’s deaths before proceeding to bait her only remaining son into a death trap.

[donteverblameash]

I swear, Anthony Edward Stark cares so much about kids I imagine like it's not even funny.

I can imagine he has a bunch of young interns actually but he can't adopt them all since some of them actually have good parents and he would worry about spending enough individual time with them, knowing it's important to kids.

But like still, he's checking up on them, always like, "Before you start work, lemme see that homework. I know you're struggling in Spanish." I HC one time, the bravest girl alive, bucked up the courage and showed Tony her iron man fanfic

"And then I caught you? You didn't fall?"

"Yuh-huh."

"Well, good on me."

And yeah, he was holding back laughs, but the thought his intern looked up to him so much to write a little story warmed his heart, like, I love this man.

[diamondcz27]

Father and son in other universes

[dipperscavern]

Okay your post about Cregan being a father has got my little heart growing three sizes and I'm even more in love with this fictional man.

I do wonder what your take would be on how he'd react to a partner's interaction with Rickon, his one year old son in the books during the dance.

Your posts are giving me life though the new season is disappointing me. ❤️❤️

Hope you are having a wonderful day!

An in love witchy anon. 🌒🌕🌘

omg stop :(( it could even be something small, like teaching rickon how to make and throw a proper snowball.

you had grown up with siblings in the north — and both hands weren’t enough to count the times you had an all out war the day after fresh snow. walking back indoors afterwards, sitting round the fires’ hearth while recalling with laughter how your brother had slipped on ice, or how you and your sister had managed to sneak up on your eldest sibling. yes — snowball fights were something all northerners looked back on with fond nostalgia.

and with or without siblings, you intended for rickon to learn all about such matters.

i can picture it sooo vividly. you and cregan, freshly married, going about your separate ways during the day — and him stumbling upon quite a sight in the afternoon.

perhaps he wanted to spend the small free time he had with rickon, or you for lunch. perhaps it was just coincidence that brought him upon the courtyard the day after fresh snow.

but here he was; and here you were.

rickon, giggling madly as you shaped the snowball in his small hands. cregan could hear your voice, laced with childlike glee, ordering your sworn shield to remain still. if brought before the gods, cregan would attest to the twitch of the knights lips — to the faint smile upon them.

it is a clumsy throw, brought about with untrained muscles and even less coordination. but your knight remains dutifully still, and it lands upon his lower visage.

cregan feels much like the knight now. a smile wears itself on his lips, and cregan could not tell you when it appeared if his life depended on it. love doesn’t explain itself like that.

he watches just long enough to see rickon tackle you with a fierce hug, and for you to return it without the faintest trace of hesitancy. he’s now aware of his smile when he walks away — and he makes no effort to wipe it from his features.

and when you both tuck rickon into bed later that night (he specifically requested you with his father), as he tells cregan of his day in the snow, you have the faintest blush on your cheeks. that same very smile returns to his lips; it seems intent on not being kept at bay.

you both whisper goodnights to the little lordling as you close the door, and as soon as you do — turning to cregan — his mouth captures yours in a kiss so sweet it reminds you of the pastries stolen from the kitchen by lord & lady stark when sleep can’t be found. you sigh into him, and it somehow makes cregan fall even more hopelessly in love with you.

[apricustar]

just had a thought what if—in trying to feel close to bobby—buck is the one who goes to confession and meets with father brian?

what if buck walks into that church—not out of faith, not in search of god—but because he’s trying to find bobby?

buck has never been a church guy. has never been a religious one, either. but bobby was. everyone knows how important bobby’s faith was to him.

in the early days, confession was almost a compulsion for bobby—when he was still caught in that spiral of guilt and trying to claw his way out. but later? it became peace. quiet. a routine of sorts; time for him to just be.

and now we have buck who is full of all these feelings. we haven’t seen him express any of them beyond 8x15 when the disbelief cracked him open and the grief poured out, raw and animal and real. ever since then he’s been holding everything in, stretching himself incredibly thin to show up and be there for everyone else because that’s what he took bobby’s final words to him to mean.

and the firehouse—the place that used to be representative of home, safety, comfort—is just full of reminder of what’s gone. bobby’s seat at the head of the table. bobby’s office. bobby’s apron hung in the pantry. his absence is everywhere. it’s heavy. grief with a name but nowhere to go.

and buck—he can’t walk through a single room without feeling it. without seeing bobby’s shape outlined by what’s no longer there. it’s not just loss. it’s presence, inverted.

so that’s why he goes to church. it’s not about praying or finding god. i think, really, it’s about needing somewhere to put the ache inside him. a place to feel close to bobby in a way that doesn’t feel haunted the way the firehouse does. this is grief trying to make sense of itself. this is buck stepping into a space bobby once held sacred, hoping maybe he’ll feel something.

maybe part of him is hoping for forgiveness—not for something he did, but for what he couldn’t stop. for not being able to save him. for still being here when bobby isn’t. for feeling like he isn’t doing enough for the team. but more than anything, he just wants to feel close to bobby. in any way possible, even if he doesn’t feel like he deserves to.

and maybe, without even planning to, he ends up in the confessional.

sits with his colt legs awkwardly folded underneath him. it smells like dust and old incense and something faintly like cedar. not unpleasant—just old, lived in. he has no idea what to say. no idea how to start. but he blurts something out like i’m not religious! or is there a correct way to confess?

and father brian simply says you don’t need to be or you don’t have to be religious to seek comfort here or there is no right way to start. just start.

and buck says the only thing he’s been holding in since bobby died: i miss him

at the end of the day, it’s not about belief; it’s about missing someone so much that you’ll sit anywhere they once felt whole, just to feel a little less empty.

it’s about finding the one place that still feels like theirs, and hoping—just hoping—that’s enough to feel close again.

[erinwantstowrite]

I just heard the song Slipping Through My Fingers and immediately remembered the first chapter of LoF literally started crying

that whole song can summarize peter and tony's relationship tbh,,, quite literally every time tony thinks they've got it and he understands peter well, he blinks and peter's getting older and more stuff is happening (he wouldn't trade it for the world)

[j-k-writes]

Helloo! Can I request older targaryen male reader (maybe rhaegar's younger uncle) x ned stark? With prompts: stay with me. i can keep you safe. And they're all afraid of me. / if they know you're with me, they'll leave you alone.

Okie that's all! Hope it's not too much! Glad to see another asoiaf blog writing for m reader:D

Summary - After his injury on the trident, Robert leaves command of his forces to Ned. Struggling with the meaning of this war, Ned is met by an old friend, Prince Y/N Targaryen.

Warnings - general GOT warnings, BIG age gap (Ned is 19/20 while Y/N is 32/33), mentions of canon character death.

Ned longed for Winterfell. He had tired of the south, and he had tired of the war. 

Rhaegar was dead, slain by Robert on the Trident. His rubies littered the bank of the trident, a place that Ned had heard the men around him start to refer to as the ruby ford. Ned had felt no satisfaction in Rhaegar’s death, Lyanna was still missing, and his brother and father were still dead. 

And so Ned continued on. 

Robert had given him command of the forces after the trident, unable to continue on with his injuries. So here sat Ned, a day's ride out from Kingslanding ready to claim the throne for his closest friend, and avenge his father and brother’s murders. 

Ned looked up at the sound of the flap of his tent being disturbed, he expected to see one of the Lord’s of his army, but he saw a man he did not recognize instead. He reached for the sword at his side, taking a defensive stance against the hooded figure. 

“Who’s there?” Ned called out to the man, “You should not be here.�� 

The man held his hands up in surrender, slowly taking his hood off as Ned’s grip on his sword tightened further. The man’s hood fell away and despite the poorly chopped and dyed hair, Ned recognized the mysterious figure for who he was. 

Y/N Targaryen, younger brother to King Aerys II. 

“What are you doing here?” Ned hissed, releasing his sword yet keeping his posture tense, as if bracing for attack. 

“I needed to see you.” Y/N walked deeper into the tent. 

Ned laughed in disbelief, “Everyone in this camp wants you and your family dead-” 

“Everyone?” 

Ned paused facing the man. Y/N’s violet eyes searched Ned’s face, and Ned faltered under their weight. He frowned, “That’s not fair. You chose your side, Y/N.” 

“I chose my family, Ned.” 

“So did I.” 

Y/N nodded, and Ned felt sick at the sight of the man. He looked defeated, dark bags under his violet eyes and his cheeks were sunken like he hadn’t eaten. His hair was chopped messily, as if with haste and a dagger, and dyed dark to hide his appearance. He looked so different from the confident prince Ned had grown to know, and love, during his time in the Eyrie. 

Y/N turned away from Ned, “You’re right, I-” 

Ned watched as the man took a deep breath, and Ned had to remind himself that they’d both lost their families in this war. Y/N’s nephew had been killed not but a week ago, and his siblings were not likely to survive the end of this war. 

“Do you not grow tired of fighting, Ned?” Y/N asked. “Taking Kingslanding won’t bring Rickard and Brandon back. As Rhaegar’s did not bring back Lyanna.” 

“What would you have me do?” 

Y/N sighed, “I- I do not know. I just wanted to see you before I left.” 

“Left?” 

The man nodded, “I’m tired of this war, Rhaegar is dead, and my brother is past saving. We are not going to win this war, and I do not intend to stay and discover the fate Robert has waiting for me. I just came to say goodbye.” 

Y/N turned to walk out of the tent, but Ned leaped forward grabbing the man’s arm. Y/N seemed surprised at Ned’s action, and Ned surprised him further by taking his hand. “I do not wish for you to leave.” 

Ned swallowed, looking down at the ground, before squaring his shoulder’s back and looking the prince in his eyes. “Stay with me. I can keep you safe.” 

Y/N smiled, yet Ned felt oddly mocked by the action. “You may be leading this war, but you are just a boy, Ned. You cannot protect me. They’re all afraid of me, as long as I live this war rages on and Robert’s reign is threatened.” 

“I am man enough for you to take to bed, but not to protect you?” Ned accused, releasing the man’s hand. 

“That has nothing to do with this, Ned.” Y/N said, face falling. “And I do not need to remind you who invited who into their bed.” 

“I did not take you for a deserter, Y/N.” Ned scoffed, turning away so the prince could not see the flush that covered his cheeks at his words. 

Y/N’s face hardened at Ned’s words. “I am not deserting.” 

Ned turned to him again, “Prove it then. Stay, if they know you’re with me they’ll leave you alone.” 

“You don’t get it do you, Ned?” Y/N shook his head, “I am a Targaryen, my very existence continues this war. It doesn’t matter if you vouch for me, if I stay here my head will end up on a pike!” 

Ned opened his mouth to speak, but no words were coming out. He knew in his heart that Y/N was right, Robert would not rest until every Targaryen was dead and buried. He sighed, closing in on himself in defeat. 

Y/N gently touched his cheek, and Ned raised his eyes to meet the prince’s. “I am sorry, Ned.” 

He placed a piece of paper into the Lord of Winterfell’s hands, closing Ned’s fist around it. “Your sister is alive, although I doubt you will be happy with what you find.” 

“What-” Ned opened the parchment, reading its contents. He raised his head to look at the prince in confusion but by the time he did Y/N was gone. 

And Ned would never see him again.

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Sasha using the title "Lord" in RiAAU after taking over Toad Tower and presumably killing Grime and stealing Barrel's Warhammer from him, and other political and military leaders assuming she's a man because, well, Sasha is a gender neutral name, so they hear Lord Sasha and assume they're talking about an adult male toad warrior. The second most powerful person in the known world and only real threat to the Leviathan reign!

Cue princess Marcy fleeing Newtopia and her father seeking refuge with his worst enemy hoping to offer information and political levarage in exchange for protection, perhaps even offering herself in marriage to transfer eventual inheritances and whatnot, and she finds out that Lord Sasha is not, indeed, a dark and domineering toad warlord, but a beautiful, terrifying girl her age that looks like her and oh god her poor little lesbian heart can barely take it.

[andimultiverse]

~Father & Son~