nora | adult | she/her ~ humble fancier of the Tolkienverse, ASOIAF universe, SPN, photography, cooking, binding, planning, military history and history in general. ~ made of moon gazing, a horrible sweet tooth and sapiosexuality irl.
hello there,
you may call me nora or whatever you want. it's very nice to have you here on my blog.
i am not new around here but relatively new as a writer and english is not my mother tongue. therefore i am kindly asking you to be considerate.
as long as you are kind and doing good, feel free to contact me. i enjoy connecting people over interests and my works.
i am a working woman with a master's going on and a lot of domestic busyness so i might not be quick to reply but i will.
thanks for visiting. enjoy 💙
"They call it excess, as if were something shameful. If that is so, I am guilty of craving it—of choosing it—of refusing to be denied it. Gladly.”
but imagine… baelor meeting you for the first time and not even attempting to hide how struck he is.
baelor is not a man easily shaken—but you unsettle him in the gentlest way. it isn’t just that he finds you beautiful (though he does, immediately, undeniably), it’s that there is presence to you. warmth. softness that feels like something sacred rather than indulgent.
where others might hesitate, might measure, might judge—baelor simply… looks. openly. sincerely. as though he is trying to memorize you from the first moment. and sees.
he speaks to you with the same quiet reverence he offers to prayer. slower, softer, attentive to every word you say like it matters more than court politics ever could.
his compliments are rare, but when they come, they linger:
“you carry yourself as though the world should be gentler—and I find myself wanting to make it so.”
...his admiration becomes unmistakable
baelor does not flirt the way others do. no teasing, no games. instead, he notices you.
“you seem more at ease in the gardens,” he says once, not as an observation but as something he’s been watching for days.
he adjusts things for you without asking—chairs, cloaks, the pace of a walk—never in a way that feels diminishing, always in a way that feels like care.
“Come here. No—closer. I am tired of pretending distance is anything but intolerable.”
and yes, he loves your body. not in a passing way. not politely.
he looks at you like softness is something divine—something meant to be held close, not hidden. and he intends to hold you close.
...but sometimes he reacts - because others do poorly...
court is cruel in quiet ways. looks, whispers, the subtle narrowing of eyes.
baelor notices all of it.
he does not lash out immediately—but the air around him changes. colder. sharper.
if someone dares speak on it directly, he answers with unsettling calm:
“I was not aware beauty required your approval.”
and that is the gentler version.
the harsher truth? baelor remembers. he does not forget disrespect—not when it touches something he has come to value so deeply.
you become, in a way, his line in the sand.
...so his admiration turns someting... deeper. realization hits like crack.
it happens slowly, then all at once.
he finds himself seeking you out not out of courtesy, but need. conversations that run too long. silences that feel too charged.
baelor is a man of restraint—but you test that restraint without even trying.
the first time his hand lingers on yours, it is accidental.
the second time… it is not.
and he looks almost startled by himself. like he crossed a boundary he cannot uncross.
then he allows himself to desire.
and possess.
baelor does not propose lightly. but when he does, there is no hesitation left in him.
it is not grand—it is intense. quiet, private, his voice low and steady:
“I do not wish to live a life where you are not beside me.”
as a husband, he is devoted in a way that borders on consuming.
he touches you often—not carelessly, but with intention. hands at your waist, your arms, your hips… like grounding himself in your presence.
he is deeply attentive to your comfort, but also to your confidence. he does not allow you to diminish yourself—not even in passing.
“do not repeat what lesser minds have said,” he tells you once, thumb pressing under your chin to make you meet his gaze, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. “not when I would choose this—you—every time.”
...yet sometimes his softness turns into something heavier
baelor begins gentle. always. at first.
like he’s afraid you might pull away if he moves too quickly, too boldly.
but the more he learns you, the more that restraint begins to… slip.
he adores your softness. not abstractly—physically. the way you feel in his hands, the way you fit in his hands, against him. the way your dips and curves call to his most carnal desires.
there is something almost reverent in the way he traces you, memorizing, appreciating—until reverence blurs into want.
and baelor, once he allows himself to want, does not do anything halfway.
his control becomes selective. precise.
“They look at you as if they are permitted to decide your worth… I have half a mind to teach them what it costs.”
he is still careful—but now there is an edge to it. a quiet insistence.
...and sometimes... it turns into something more dangerous
the shift... where he becomes a little... unhinged about it.
baelor is still composed in public. still measured.
but in private, his restraint is no longer about denial—it is about focus.
“Careful,” he murmurs, quieter now, more dangerous for it, “you are very close to discovering just how little of my restraint is left.”
he grows… possessive, though never cruel. more like he cannot quite tolerate distance anymore.
he notices when others look at you. he always noticed—but now it lingers with him. brews... to the boiling point.
his touches become more deliberate afterward. grounding. claiming in a way he would never name out loud.
and when you doubt yourself—even slightly—he does not respond gently anymore.
he responds firmly.
"Say it again—that you are anything less—and I will not be gentle in correcting you." and with a dark smirk on his lips, "Yet you will like it the same, I promise you that.”
...his devotion softens and deepens all at once with your pregnancy
he is attentive to you in ways that intensify—more protective, more present, more watchful. so tender.
he treats your body with even more reverence, not less. as something that has carried life, that deserves care, admiration—honor.
with your children, he is gentle but unwavering. a quiet strength, a steady presence.
but with you? the intensity never fades.
because the quiet truth of it all is...
baelor does not love you despite anything.
he loves you entirely.
your softness, your presence, your body, your mind—none of it is separate in his eyes.
and once he lets himself have you…
he does not let go.
not gently. not halfway. not ever.
Thank you for this request dear @0velvet-verse0 I hope you like it💙
"They call it excess, as if were something shameful. If that is so, I am guilty of craving it—of choosing it—of refusing to be denied it. Gladly.”
but imagine… baelor meeting you for the first time and not even attempting to hide how struck he is.
baelor is not a man easily shaken—but you unsettle him in the gentlest way. it isn’t just that he finds you beautiful (though he does, immediately, undeniably), it’s that there is presence to you. warmth. softness that feels like something sacred rather than indulgent.
where others might hesitate, might measure, might judge—baelor simply… looks. openly. sincerely. as though he is trying to memorize you from the first moment. and sees.
he speaks to you with the same quiet reverence he offers to prayer. slower, softer, attentive to every word you say like it matters more than court politics ever could.
his compliments are rare, but when they come, they linger:
“you carry yourself as though the world should be gentler—and I find myself wanting to make it so.”
...his admiration becomes unmistakable
baelor does not flirt the way others do. no teasing, no games. instead, he notices you.
“you seem more at ease in the gardens,” he says once, not as an observation but as something he’s been watching for days.
he adjusts things for you without asking—chairs, cloaks, the pace of a walk—never in a way that feels diminishing, always in a way that feels like care.
“Come here. No—closer. I am tired of pretending distance is anything but intolerable.”
and yes, he loves your body. not in a passing way. not politely.
he looks at you like softness is something divine—something meant to be held close, not hidden. and he intends to hold you close.
...but sometimes he reacts - because others do poorly...
court is cruel in quiet ways. looks, whispers, the subtle narrowing of eyes.
baelor notices all of it.
he does not lash out immediately—but the air around him changes. colder. sharper.
if someone dares speak on it directly, he answers with unsettling calm:
“I was not aware beauty required your approval.”
and that is the gentler version.
the harsher truth? baelor remembers. he does not forget disrespect—not when it touches something he has come to value so deeply.
you become, in a way, his line in the sand.
...so his admiration turns someting... deeper. realization hits like crack.
it happens slowly, then all at once.
he finds himself seeking you out not out of courtesy, but need. conversations that run too long. silences that feel too charged.
baelor is a man of restraint—but you test that restraint without even trying.
the first time his hand lingers on yours, it is accidental.
the second time… it is not.
and he looks almost startled by himself. like he crossed a boundary he cannot uncross.
then he allows himself to desire.
and possess.
baelor does not propose lightly. but when he does, there is no hesitation left in him.
it is not grand—it is intense. quiet, private, his voice low and steady:
“I do not wish to live a life where you are not beside me.”
as a husband, he is devoted in a way that borders on consuming.
he touches you often—not carelessly, but with intention. hands at your waist, your arms, your hips… like grounding himself in your presence.
he is deeply attentive to your comfort, but also to your confidence. he does not allow you to diminish yourself—not even in passing.
“do not repeat what lesser minds have said,” he tells you once, thumb pressing under your chin to make you meet his gaze, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. “not when I would choose this—you—every time.”
...yet sometimes his softness turns into something heavier
baelor begins gentle. always. at first.
like he’s afraid you might pull away if he moves too quickly, too boldly.
but the more he learns you, the more that restraint begins to… slip.
he adores your softness. not abstractly—physically. the way you feel in his hands, the way you fit in his hands, against him. the way your dips and curves call to his most carnal desires.
there is something almost reverent in the way he traces you, memorizing, appreciating—until reverence blurs into want.
and baelor, once he allows himself to want, does not do anything halfway.
his control becomes selective. precise.
“They look at you as if they are permitted to decide your worth… I have half a mind to teach them what it costs.”
he is still careful—but now there is an edge to it. a quiet insistence.
...and sometimes... it turns into something more dangerous
the shift... where he becomes a little... unhinged about it.
baelor is still composed in public. still measured.
but in private, his restraint is no longer about denial—it is about focus.
“Careful,” he murmurs, quieter now, more dangerous for it, “you are very close to discovering just how little of my restraint is left.”
he grows… possessive, though never cruel. more like he cannot quite tolerate distance anymore.
he notices when others look at you. he always noticed—but now it lingers with him. brews... to the boiling point.
his touches become more deliberate afterward. grounding. claiming in a way he would never name out loud.
and when you doubt yourself—even slightly—he does not respond gently anymore.
he responds firmly.
"Say it again—that you are anything less—and I will not be gentle in correcting you." and with a dark smirk on his lips, "Yet you will like it the same, I promise you that.”
...his devotion softens and deepens all at once with your pregnancy
he is attentive to you in ways that intensify—more protective, more present, more watchful. so tender.
he treats your body with even more reverence, not less. as something that has carried life, that deserves care, admiration—honor.
with your children, he is gentle but unwavering. a quiet strength, a steady presence.
but with you? the intensity never fades.
because the quiet truth of it all is...
baelor does not love you despite anything.
he loves you entirely.
your softness, your presence, your body, your mind—none of it is separate in his eyes.
and once he lets himself have you…
he does not let go.
not gently. not halfway. not ever.
Thank you for this request dear @0velvet-verse0 I hope you like it💙
hello there,
you may call me nora or whatever you want. it's very nice to have you here on my blog.
i am not new around here but relatively new as a writer and english is not my mother tongue. therefore i am kindly asking you to be considerate.
as long as you are kind and doing good, feel free to contact me. i enjoy connecting people over interests and my works.
i am a working woman with a master's going on and a lot of domestic busyness so i might not be quick to reply but i will.
thanks for visiting. enjoy 💙
hello there,
you may call me nora or whatever you want. it's very nice to have you here on my blog.
i am not new around here but relatively new as a writer and english is not my mother tongue. therefore i am kindly asking you to be considerate.
as long as you are kind and doing good, feel free to contact me. i enjoy connecting people over interests and my works.
i am a working woman with a master's going on and a lot of domestic busyness so i might not be quick to reply but i will.
thanks for visiting. enjoy 💙
hello there,
you may call me nora or whatever you want. it's very nice to have you here on my blog.
i am not new around here but relatively new as a writer and english is not my mother tongue. therefore i am kindly asking you to be considerate.
as long as you are kind and doing good, feel free to contact me. i enjoy connecting people over interests and my works.
i am a working woman with a master's going on and a lot of domestic busyness so i might not be quick to reply but i will.
thanks for visiting. enjoy 💙
When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! then, send to your last ten people in your notifs (anonymously). you never know who might benefit from spreading positivity <3
hey! I just saw this and I'm glad i did. need some positivity today.
thank you for the tag sweet cami 🫶🏼🫶🏼 here are five things that I love, or my current five hyperfixations which give me a serotonin boost each time I think of them:
writing, my jewelry, stationary, Jungle (it's a band and their music is everything to me rn), texting the one and only raye 🤗🤗 (@runningfrom2am)
tagging, with no pressure ofc: @runningfrom2am, @b1mb0slvt, @oceandriveab, @chenslucy, @rafescurtainbangz, @bellybumm, @bejeweledreverie + anyone else who may want to do it! 💗💗
•Writing (even tho english isnt my first language)
•And getting into sxyy mischief (•̀ᴗ•́)
Taggin’__ @precious-little-scoundrel (because they inspired me to write for callum charas XD), heres to my mootie poo’s༼ つ ◕◡◕ ༽つ @b1mb0slvt @eymie @blurredcolour @missusnora @eleanorbaybars @auh-unn
I am moving to another account entirely. I will keep this one open for a little while but it's practically inactive from now on.
I will post my previous works again on my new account @eleanorbaybars
I will also answer the asks and requests I received over there, so if you are among the lovely people who sent something, make sure to keep up ✨
I feel even better about this new account. It feels more like my real self because I came to realise where I want to stand in here and how much I like to share abt myself while remaining comfortable.
I don't think even this post will pop in your feed but.. you know how shadowban works unfortunately.
Thanks for your support so far and hope to see you on the other side, too 💜
hey nora!!!! what about a cinderella/masquerade ball au with Cregan?
Hello again folks.
Hello my dear, dear Mili. It has been ten months since I received this ask and a lot happened since then. I sadly admit that I had taken a nine-month long hiatus from this lil hellhole for personal shitstorm. It is my pleasure to make a sweet comeback with your fic, fairytale-ish. I took a little slow and kept it smut-free this time, I hope you like this <3
Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen Princess
Warnings: noth- oh, a baratheon male. ye know.
Word Count: Around 1300
Feedback is always gold. Enjoy!
Moonstone Midnight
Once upon a time in the realm of Westeros, a grand masquerade ball was organized to allow Princess Y/N Targaryen the opportunity to choose a suitor from the noble houses. The event was a spectacle of opulence, with each house vying for the princess's favor.
The princess's heart, however, was set on one particular suitor: Cregan Stark, a man of strength and honor. Unbeknownst to Cregan, he had already captured the princess's attention with his noble bearing and quiet strength.
The night of the ball arrived, and the Great Hall was a swirl of colors, music, and masked faces. Cregan Stark, clad in the traditional attire of House Stark, entered the festivities with an air of quiet confidence. Little did he know that his destiny was intertwined with the Targaryen princess.
Amidst the masked crowd, Princess Y/N moved gracefully in a heart-cut dress, a delicate shade of grey, color of House Stark, bearing subtle direwolf sigils in its delicate embroidery. The bodice traced her form, leading to a voluminous skirt. A silver mask adorned her face with filigree edges, revealing only her expressive eyes. Secured by a silver ribbon, it added a touch of mystery. In her silver-blonde hair, a joint diadem with a resplendent ruby sparkled, signifying her royal lineage. Ivory-colored fur draped her shoulders, echoing the wintry North. The moonstone at her chest, a direwolf emblem, caught the candlelight—a silent symbol of unity between House Stark and House Targaryen.
As the night set on, Princess Y/N sought out Cregan Stark with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. She moved with grace and purpose, her eyes seeking out the Stark lord. When her gaze met his, a spark ignited, and she decided to take fate into her own hands. Cloaked in her unforeseen attire, Princess Y/N approached Cregan, the moonstone catching the candlelight.
"My lord Stark," she purred, "they say a dance reveals the true character of a person. Would you indulge a princess in discovering yours?"
Cregan, caught off guard by her boldness, stammered, "Princess, I… I would be honored."
They swayed to the music, the princess's eyes never leaving Cregan's. The pendant hung between them, enticing his wolfish eyes to her smooth cleavage. "You're not like the other suitors," she remarked with a playful smile. "There's a certain fierceness in your eyes, a starkness, one might say."
Cregan, enchanted by the boldness of the alluring woman before him but trying to maintain composure, chuckled nervously. "I suppose the North does breed a certain kind of fierceness."
The princess leaned in, her lips close to his ear. "I wonder, Lord Stark, what makes your heart race? Is it the thrill of the hunt, or could it be the allure of an exotic princess?"
Cregan, feeling the heat rise, managed a smirk. "Perhaps it's a bit of both, Princess."
Y/N's flirty banter and Cregan's growing heat created a dance of emotions, setting the stage for a passionate connection beneath the masquerade's enchanting veil.
As the evening wore on, various challenges and competitions animated the atmosphere among the suitors. Cregan, sharing the princess's burgeoning interest, engaged in the festivities with unwavering determination, drawing Y/N's gaze through each commendable endeavor. The festivity in the Grand Hall crescendoed as contenders sought Princess Y/N's favor. Notably, among them stood the tenacious Raymont Baratheon, a nobleman exuding an air of arrogance and harboring ambitions of conquest.
As the princess gracefully navigated the dance floor with Cregan once more, Raymont approached, his intentions clear. "Princess Y/N," he declared, his voice carrying over the music, "a dance with me, and I guarantee your heart will favor the storm over the North."
Y/N, unyielding in her grace, smiled diplomatically. "Lord Raymont, I appreciate the offer, but my heart has yet to decide its course tonight."
Undeterred, Raymont's confidence grew, and he reached for Y/N's hand. "Come now, Princess. A dance can reveal more than words ever could."
Before Y/N could respond, Cregan, sensing the uncomfortable situation, stepped forward, a stern expression on his face. "The lady has made her choice, Lord Raymont. I suggest you respect it."
Raymont, ignoring the warning in Cregan's tone, smirked. "And who might you be, Stark? A northern puppy challenging a great stag?"
Cregan's eyes narrowed, his tone low and threatening. "I am Cregan Stark, and I suggest you find another partner for the dance. The princess is not interested in your advances."
Raymont, fueled by arrogance, refused to back down. "I don't take orders from savages."
In an instant, Cregan's demeanor shifted from composed to imposing. He took a step closer to Raymont, his voice a low growl. "Perhaps you should learn to take hints, Baratheon. This is not a battle you want to pick."
The tension in the air thickened as Cregan and Raymont locked eyes, the dance floor momentarily frozen in anticipation. Cregan, his gaze unwavering, leaned in, his next words a menacing whisper. "Crossing a Stark is a perilous endeavor, Baratheon. Consider your next move carefully, for the North does not tolerate insolence."
Eventually, Raymont withdrew, realizing the danger in challenging a Stark, his bravado faltering in the face of Cregan's implicit threat.
As Raymont begrudgingly retreated, Cregan, still holding Y/N close, suggested a respite from the crowded hall. "Princess, would you care for a moment of reprieve? Away from prying eyes, where we can speak freely?"
Y/N, intrigued by the prospect, nodded, and they found a secluded balcony bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. The air was thick with the lingering promise of their kiss, and in this intimate space, Cregan and Y/N shed the formalities that bound them.
Cregan, his eyes reflecting a mix of sincerity and desire, spoke in a tone that resonated with a newfound connection. "Y/N, let us speak of our dreams and desires, of the truths we keep hidden. Lay bare yourself to me, for I am yours to seize."
Y/N, captivated by the honesty in Cregan's words, shared her deepest aspirations and fears. They spoke of family, of duty, and of the uncharted future that lay ahead. As the conversation unfolded, Cregan's gaze often found its way to the pendant at Y/N's chest, a subtle reminder of the magic woven into their story.
The moonstone sparkled, and Cregan, unable to resist the magnetic pull, traced a gentle touch over the pendant. "Princess, there's a certain allure in this gem, much like the enchantment between us. Your presence is as captivating as the North itself."
Enticed by both the gem's allure and the woman before him, Cregan initiated a dance of promises and longing that resonated between them. He couldn't resist leaning in, capturing Y/N's lips in a kiss that spoke of promises and unspoken desires. Her supple breasts heaved under his heavy hand as she poured her soul into his.
As the kiss concluded, Cregan's eyes held a flame of sincerity that mirrored the shared secrets between them. A whispered exchange lingered in the air. "Cregan," she murmured, her voice a subtle breeze in the quiet space, "in that touch, echoes of promises reverberated, and in your gaze, unspoken desires reflected my own."
"Princess Y/N, in this brief moment, my heart has found its true north. I vow to stand by you, to protect and cherish you. Will you share your heart with a Stark?"
Y/N, equally moved, looked into Cregan's eyes with unwavering certainty. "Lord Cregan Stark, I pledge my heart to you. May our love endure like the North's winter, unyielding and everlasting."
In the quiet alcove, under the watchful gaze of the moonstone-adorned pendant, they exchanged vows of dedication and love, sealing their fate in a tale that would be whispered through the halls of Winterfell and the Red Keep for generations to come. The masquerade had ended, but their love story had just begun.
rules: tag 9 people you want to get to know better. I was tagged by @theold-ultraviolence thank you lovely!!
last song: Whoa, Mama from Bright Star
last show: currently rewatching Doctor Who (specifically the 11th Doctor)
Last movie: The Titanic!!! And it was in theaters for the 25th anniversary!
currently watching: literally watching Doctor Who rn as stated before
currently reading: so um actually I’m saving this to read when I get my tattoo done (it’s gonna be a 4 hour session) but One Dark Window by Rachel Gillig
current obsession: I hate saying this bc it’s embarrassing but my hyper fixation for the past few months has straight up been Aemond Targaryen and Ewan Mitchell. Like I am completely in awe of both the character and the actor. The character? He’s a war criminal meow meow. The actor? GOOD GOD what a guy! I love his interviews, I love his passion, he’s kind of turned into a role model ish for me??? Idk if role model is the right word but I just look up to him as an actor now. You can see the passion when he acts and that can’t always be said. His interviews are very much proof of that as well.
No pressure tags, gonna try to tag besties that I haven’t tagged in one of these before: @cerimonials @lovelykhaleesiii @sapphire-writes @syzrina
I thought I posted this a few days ago but I guess not 🙈
current obsession: it’s still HOTD especially because of filming starting and the pics posted! I’m also really obsession with writing right now!
no pressure tagging some besties who I think haven’t done this but if you have ily anyway: @eddiemadmunson @raphaellathedragon @arcielee @themotherofhorses @ewanmitchellcrumbs
currently reading: Zodiac Academy #7 - Heartless Sky
current obsession: Ewan Mitchell of course 😏😏😁💕 I still can’t shut up about Aemond after 5 months. I am obssessed with Tommy Bennett and of course baby monk Osferth is my favorite TLK character 😏😁
Tag (ignore this if you already done this): @hamatoanne @schniiipsel @missusnora @f4ll-for-you
yayy tag gamee thanks cutie @eddiemadmunson and also @daenerysapologist
last song: Wicked Game by Chris Isaak
last show: Inside Man (David Tennant owns my soul)
last movie: The Banshees of Inisherin
currently watching: The Wolf (2018 Turkish TV series)
currently reading: The True Believer by Eric Hoffer
current obsession: Cregan Stark lol who can blame me? In my other life, my current obsession is improving my photography skills though. The only time I feel like nothing was wrong is when I am looking through my lens.
No pressure tags -I really would like to know you people but no pressure really-: @starkskeep @lost-and-founds @poppyreader
spell or curse / abandoned mansion or haunted cemetery / vampire slayer or ghost hunter / phoenix or griffin / wrist bite or neck bite / fairy godmother or evil stepmother / herbs or potion / ghost or wraith / dragon scales or werewolf claws / druid or mage / elf or hobbit / divination or necromancy / wand magic or hand magic / centaur or unicorn / dark fairytale or disney-style fairytale / sword or bow & arrow / siren or water nymph / garlic or silver / talking animal or walking tree / demon trap or crossroads pact / enchanted fairy forest or mermaid lagoon / castle or cottage / pirate or prince / immortal or normal lifespan / wizard or witcher
spell or curse / abandoned mansion or haunted cemetery / vampire slayer or ghost hunter / phoenix or griffin / wrist bite or neck bite / fairy godmother or evil stepmother / herbs or potion / ghost or wraith / dragon scales or werewolf claws / druid or mage / elf or hobbit / divination or necromancy / wand magic or hand magic / centaur or unicorn / dark fairytale or disney-style fairytale / sword or bow & arrow / siren or water nymph / garlic or silver / talking animal or walking tree / demon trap or crossroads pact / enchanted fairy forest or mermaid lagoon / castle or cottage / pirate or prince / immortal or normal lifespan / wizard or witcher
Spell or curse / abandoned mansion or haunted cemetery / vampire slayer or ghost hunter / phoenix or griffin / wrist bite or neck bite / fairy godmother or evil stepmother / herbs or potion / ghost or wraith / dragon scales or werewolf claws / druid or mage / elf or hobbit / divination or necromancy / wand magic or hand magic / centaur or unicorn / dark fairytale or disney-style fairytale / sword or bow & arrow / siren or water nymph / garlic or silver / talking animal or walking tree / demon trap or crossroads pact / enchanted fairy forest or mermaid lagoon / castle or cottage / pirate or prince / immortal or normal lifespan / wizard or witcher
spell or curse / abandoned mansion or haunted cemetery / vampire slayer or ghost hunter / phoenix or griffin / wrist bite or neck bite / fairy godmother or evil stepmother / herbs or potion / ghost or wraith / dragon scales or werewolf claws / druid or mage / elf or hobbit / divination or necromancy / wand magic or hand magic / centaur or unicorn / dark fairytale or disney-style fairytale / sword or bow & arrow / siren or water nymph / garlic or silver / talking animal or walking tree / demon trap or crossroads pact / enchanted fairy forest or mermaid lagoon / castle or cottage / pirate or prince / immortal or normal lifespan / wizard or witcher
tagged by my love @daenerysapologist
no pressure tags: @missusnora @hotdapologist @poppyreader @syzrina (after you feel better)
thanks for the tags my loves @starkskeep and @daenerysapologist i absolutely love doing these lil fun shits with you
spell or curse / abandoned mansion or haunted cemetery / vampire slayer or ghost hunter / phoenix or griffin / wrist bite or neck bite / fairy godmother or evil stepmother / herbs or potion / ghost or wraith / dragon scales or werewolf claws / druid or mage / elf or hobbit / divination or necromancy / wand magic or hand magic / centaur or unicorn / dark fairytale or disney-style fairytale / sword or bow & arrow / siren or water nymph / garlic or silver / talking animal or walking tree / demon trap or crossroads pact / enchanted fairy forest or mermaid lagoon / castle or cottage / pirate or prince / immortal or normal lifespan / wizard or witcher
no pressure tags: @poppyreader @lost-and-founds @eddiemadmunson
A/N: this is kinda long for a hc but I am trying to make up for not posting anything for two weeks.
so, you are the 2nd youngest of Alicent's children
younger than Aemond but older than Daeron
you are the only one who looks like Alicent so naturally, you became her favorite from the moment you were born
she did not have to be reminded of Rhaenyra every time she looked at you because you were hers plus you did not have the same tendencies as Helaena. Alicent could raise you to be the perfect noble lady
because you lacked any Targaryen features, Alicent and Otto had to stop the rumors of Rhaenyra's children being bastards. If the King could have a child without Valyrian coloring, so could his heir
your resemblance with Alicent caused Rhaenyra to resent you even more than your other siblings. looking at you reminded her of the friend that she lost to womanhood so Rhaenyra devised a plan to keep you out of her sight and not be reminded of her lost girlhood dreams nor of the betrayal Alicent subjected Rhaenyra to
on one of her rare visits to King's Landing, Rhaenyra went to her father and privately convinced him to wed you to Cregan Stark
Cregan's wife had died giving birth to his son Rickon and he now rarely left the North. Marrying you to him meant that you would be kept far away from the Red Keep, both now and after Rhaenyra took her position as Queen
If Rhaenyra let it be known to Cregan that she was the one who betrothed you to him, he may be even more loyal than the typical "there has never been a Stark who forgot an oath" because it was his father who knelt and not him
so the majority of the court traveled North to Winterfell in order to witness your marriage to the Wolf of Winterfell
Alicent was livid. How dare Rhaenyra take it upon herself to betroth you? It was Alicent's job as your mother to find the best possible match
she would have never given you to a man such as Cregan Stark. a savage who worships the old gods. Alicent had heard how he brutally took back control of Winterfell from his uncle.
you are a princess of the Seven Kingdoms. you are kind and delicate. you deserve more than to be the second wife of a man several years older than you. you deserve more than the same fate that Alicent suffered
though you would never admit it to your mother, you were happy for this match. the North is somewhere that you had never been and despite its reputation, the scenery and summer snows you saw on your journey there from the Red Keep intrigued you
upon your arrival in Winterfell, you were greeted by your future husband and several other Northern lords. your mother was not happy when she saw the blush upon your cheeks when Cregan kissed your hand in greeting. though she was supposed to be happy for you, she had wished that you would be upset with this match and not allow yourself to be corrupted by the Northerner
unfortunately for Alicent, that didn't happy. all it took was your wedding night with Cregan for you to be utterly in love
you are a young girl, and of course, you would be instantly taken with the man who had shown you love and pleasure for the first time. he had heard your hand and made sure you were comfortable with everything he did
needless to say, you and Cregan had a very active marriage from the moment you two awoke the morning after your wedding. it was not uncommon for the servants to skitter past your chambers giggling about the noises coming from behind the door
while the court was still there before their return to King's Landing, Alicent tried everything in her power to scare you away from your husband, thinking she was preventing you from being corrupted. it was not proper for you to constantly be showing up for meals arm-in-arm with your new husband. Cheeks flushed, hair out of place, and your clothes in disarray. plus she was hearing that Cregan had your things moved into his chambers. how were you going to be protected from him if you were being forced to spend every night with him (stop being delusional Alicent? your daughter would throw a fit if Cregan even suggested having separate rooms now that you have had a taste of him)
Cregan loved the glares he received from the Southern nobles. Unlike your siblings who had the looks of the man his ancestors bent the knee to, you had the look of someone he could corrupt
Cregan loved how soft you were. he would grip your hair with one hand and keep his other on your hips when you were together, no matter where you were. he wanted you to look into his eyes as he controlled your movements. he wanted you to know exactly who was making you feel this good and exactly whose children you would be carrying
you are the young and pretty bride that Cregan enjoys corrupting. maybe your mother wasn't that delusional for her worries
a few months after your father's court returned south, a raven made its way from the North. you were officially with child. nothing could separate you from Cregan now
over the years, there would be many more ravens bearing similar news. each time Alicent visited you or you came south, Cregan would give her a wicked grin as if taunting her: "Your daughter is mine now. You lost."
i would lose my goddamn mind for good if he looked into my eyes like that while railing me six ways to sunday so it's safe to say YOU HAVE UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT damn gurl
@missusnora if the man has a breeding kink, he definitely has a hair pulling kink. There’s no way he wouldn’t want your eyes on him the ENTIRE time and there’s no better way to make that happen. Bonus since it makes the hair messy and he would definitely want to show off to everyone what just happened behind that tapestry or in his study
I started taking requests and even made a poll to choose which to start from and everything but some time ago my blog got flagged as explicit and I realised even if you have your mature filter open, you could not see my blog or content.
I'm not the filthiest blog around here by any means and couldn't receive no feedback at all from Tumblr team. This all shit going on makes me very upset and pulls me down so I took some distance from Tumblr. I was constantly thinking about that and it was effecting my day to day life. I hope you're not upset with me bc of this, I have been enjoying our interactions here deeply and I'm so sorry all came to this.
I did my best to solve whatever this is and can only hope it'll work out like back to normal soon. Can't wait to write and read on full force again. If you have any idea or suggestions, please share.
A/N: this is kinda long for a hc but I am trying to make up for not posting anything for two weeks.
so, you are the 2nd youngest of Alicent's children
younger than Aemond but older than Daeron
you are the only one who looks like Alicent so naturally, you became her favorite from the moment you were born
she did not have to be reminded of Rhaenyra every time she looked at you because you were hers plus you did not have the same tendencies as Helaena. Alicent could raise you to be the perfect noble lady
because you lacked any Targaryen features, Alicent and Otto had to stop the rumors of Rhaenyra's children being bastards. If the King could have a child without Valyrian coloring, so could his heir
your resemblance with Alicent caused Rhaenyra to resent you even more than your other siblings. looking at you reminded her of the friend that she lost to womanhood so Rhaenyra devised a plan to keep you out of her sight and not be reminded of her lost girlhood dreams nor of the betrayal Alicent subjected Rhaenyra to
on one of her rare visits to King's Landing, Rhaenyra went to her father and privately convinced him to wed you to Cregan Stark
Cregan's wife had died giving birth to his son Rickon and he now rarely left the North. Marrying you to him meant that you would be kept far away from the Red Keep, both now and after Rhaenyra took her position as Queen
If Rhaenyra let it be known to Cregan that she was the one who betrothed you to him, he may be even more loyal than the typical "there has never been a Stark who forgot an oath" because it was his father who knelt and not him
so the majority of the court traveled North to Winterfell in order to witness your marriage to the Wolf of Winterfell
Alicent was livid. How dare Rhaenyra take it upon herself to betroth you? It was Alicent's job as your mother to find the best possible match
she would have never given you to a man such as Cregan Stark. a savage who worships the old gods. Alicent had heard how he brutally took back control of Winterfell from his uncle.
you are a princess of the Seven Kingdoms. you are kind and delicate. you deserve more than to be the second wife of a man several years older than you. you deserve more than the same fate that Alicent suffered
though you would never admit it to your mother, you were happy for this match. the North is somewhere that you had never been and despite its reputation, the scenery and summer snows you saw on your journey there from the Red Keep intrigued you
upon your arrival in Winterfell, you were greeted by your future husband and several other Northern lords. your mother was not happy when she saw the blush upon your cheeks when Cregan kissed your hand in greeting. though she was supposed to be happy for you, she had wished that you would be upset with this match and not allow yourself to be corrupted by the Northerner
unfortunately for Alicent, that didn't happy. all it took was your wedding night with Cregan for you to be utterly in love
you are a young girl, and of course, you would be instantly taken with the man who had shown you love and pleasure for the first time. he had heard your hand and made sure you were comfortable with everything he did
needless to say, you and Cregan had a very active marriage from the moment you two awoke the morning after your wedding. it was not uncommon for the servants to skitter past your chambers giggling about the noises coming from behind the door
while the court was still there before their return to King's Landing, Alicent tried everything in her power to scare you away from your husband, thinking she was preventing you from being corrupted. it was not proper for you to constantly be showing up for meals arm-in-arm with your new husband. Cheeks flushed, hair out of place, and your clothes in disarray. plus she was hearing that Cregan had your things moved into his chambers. how were you going to be protected from him if you were being forced to spend every night with him (stop being delusional Alicent? your daughter would throw a fit if Cregan even suggested having separate rooms now that you have had a taste of him)
Cregan loved the glares he received from the Southern nobles. Unlike your siblings who had the looks of the man his ancestors bent the knee to, you had the look of someone he could corrupt
Cregan loved how soft you were. he would grip your hair with one hand and keep his other on your hips when you were together, no matter where you were. he wanted you to look into his eyes as he controlled your movements. he wanted you to know exactly who was making you feel this good and exactly whose children you would be carrying
you are the young and pretty bride that Cregan enjoys corrupting. maybe your mother wasn't that delusional for her worries
a few months after your father's court returned south, a raven made its way from the North. you were officially with child. nothing could separate you from Cregan now
over the years, there would be many more ravens bearing similar news. each time Alicent visited you or you came south, Cregan would give her a wicked grin as if taunting her: "Your daughter is mine now. You lost."
i would lose my goddamn mind for good if he looked into my eyes like that while railing me six ways to sunday so it's safe to say YOU HAVE UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT damn gurl
🌿INTJ 🍁Ravenclaw 🔮Libra Sun, Sagittarius Moon, Pisces Rising Tessarion stands out from the other dragons due to the colour of her belly scales and claws, which contrast with the dark blue of the majority of Tessarion's body. She is one of the most beautiful dragons to look at. This is quite notable since her colour is incredibly rare. One of the younger dragons Breathes blue flam...
Am I in love with a dragon rn? This quiz is super accurate it's crazy. It's by @witchthewriter
Babe we got the same one 💗 @eddiemadmunson
What is yours @starkskeep @poppyreader @misguidedasgardian @fairysluna @daenerysapologist
missusnora ～ active new blog: @eleanorbaybars @missusnora - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
