unicorn truther 𖦹

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― jacaerys velaryon, cregan stark, rhaenyra targaryen, baela targaryen, helaena targaryen ( and others!! just ask <3 )

― asks / anons / thirsts open

― requests closed

𓆑 ao3

your brain 🙌 u the real thinker, anon.

in my head creagn isn't like ACTUALLY wolfboy, he's just... kinda wold coded. u know how rhaenyra and aerion are really dragonlike — like aerion freak ahh tounge and the way that rhaenyra does that draconic head tilt thing when shes talking to mysaria? i think it's like that, he just really exhibits canine coded behavior!!

all this to say, he can't smell when ur ovulating, but he knows... oh trust, he knows.

he knows when you're on your period, because what a sweet, attentive husband he is aw how cute, and he also knows how to track the days between period end and oculation beginning. dare i say he has some sort of medieval period tracking system — not written down, just in his head.

he's also an expert at tracking your behavior patterns, and what behavior corresponds to what part of your cycle. when doe, who is usally so rigid and skittish around him is a little more open and needy... oh he knows. and he caters to it! ☝️

ur unusally squirmy in bed, and too nervous to do or say anything, but he just knows. he just knows to slip his arm around your waist you pull you back against him, pressing your hips to his and nosing into your hair. HE JUST KNOWS!! he knows whats wrong and how to fix it, without you saying anything.

-🐇

my poor sweet angel baby cregan who can't tolerate any heat at all. have we discussed?

he was born and raised in the north, and i think with his father dying when he was so young he prob didn't really have a chance to travel! he couldn't be anyone's ward, because he was the only son of one the great houses, so he was locked into that on the job training from like four years old.

he's never really experienced anything warmer than the mild northern summer, so when he goes to treat in the south for the first time he's SO miserable. and its prob only like the riverlands or the eerie 😭 but its summer and he's so hot. he doens't have the clothes for the north, so he's in his thick ahh wool doublet.

he's so, so reluctant to go to king's landing. he's not interested in going anywhere past casterly rock — being a little older, and more aware of his wardrobe, he can handle that, but NOT the crownlands. sucks, cause he goes anyways. duty outweighs how much he hates being hot.

and he is just not having hot, sweaty sex. you've been there for like one full day and he's so miserable, so hot — linen tunic and his hair up and off of his neck, and STILL burning up. sex in a hot bedroom on an upper floor of the castle, in perpetually humid-damp sheets, engaging in an activity that will make him even hotter and sweatier? oh no. absolutely not.

but in the bath... hm, thats different. but he's def not willing to do any of the work, you can ride him.

seeing how miserable he is and dragging him down to the cold wine cellar: now we're talking. it's cool, and it's kind of some freak shit, which he likes!

cregan is a biter and it FREAKS doe!reader out!! but he doesn't mean to ☹️ he feels bad ☹️

doe!reader who isn't used to the way that cregan like to touch her, how he's drawn to it. when he holds her waist or rubs her back, thats fine, but it's the casually intimate touches that drive her nuts.

smoothing a hand over her hair in front of his bannermen, or tracing his fingers over her arm in council meetings. when he backs her up against the cold stone in the hallway, or presses her body to his, just to smooch her cheek and tell her that she looks pretty. kissing her on the mouth in public — thats the worst.

kissing her hand is tame, and well within the bounds of what she's comfortable with — he abuses that privilege.

the little nips bother her more than anything at first, when he kisses her knuckles so sweetly only to clip the soft skin with his teeth. he's a worshiper, so kissing across her fingers and down her arms is the natural progression as she grows comfortable with him.

he'll kiss from the back of her wrist, up her fingers, and back down into the dip of her palm. he's passionate about it, dedicated to it; he curls his fingers around her wrist to hold her hand to his mouth. doe!reader starts to get a little unsettled when his mouth moves up her thumb, and the tip of the didgit scrapes against the smooth edge of his incisor. his tongue darts out for a second, wetting a strip of her soft skin. before she can wiggle her hand from his grasp, he moves it for her; his canine drags the inside of her thumb. font and back teeth meet on either side of the thin muscle that makes the curve of webbing — pressure, not pain. she jerks a little, but he holds her hand still, taking his teeth away to press gentle kisses to the front of her hand.

-🐇anon

#needthat

i love u nonny ur in my hall of fame 💗 i didn't even have time to write doe!reader hcs (got logged out of tumblr, thank u computer) !! and u read my mind!!

i imagine doe!reader and cregan to be married — arranged, or at least political union. shes afraid of him, because of everything shes been told about big, scary, brutish, northern men. she's also... she's also really into him. yeah...

not at first! hes fit, but its muddled by the apprehension and discomfort in the cold, drafty castle. the intensity of her attraction comes with his gentleness. the gowns and furs that he has made just for her, to keep her warm; her bath oils that he sends for from dorne; how he guides her through crowded halls with one hand on the curve of her waist to keep her close to him.

it's overwhelming, even when she warms up to him. cregan is big — tall and broad, his sharp features and long hair harden him more. some of the largeness comes not from his physicality, but from his aura. he's intimiating — he's the wolf of the north.

cregan has one set demeanor in public: stoic, straight faced, unflinching and unaffected by anything. he commands a room by how unsettling his presence is. his voice is always even and smooth, he never yells, rarely snaps at any of his bannermen.

i don't take cregan to be big on pet names (but we could discuss this...) his lady has a name, he likes it, he thinks its the respectful thing to refer to her by that given name. lady star sometimes, or my lady — thats reserved mostly for company. "dear" is his go to: my dear, dear girl, or just dear. its a little awkward coming out of his mouth, a little unnatural at first. but he's trying to make his lady more comfortable around him, and lord cerwyn told him that terms of endearment will help her warm up.

doe!reader is so freaked when cregan's careful facade breaks apart in private. he's unnervingly gentle with her when she's brought to winterfell the first time, dropping his voice to a soft lull when he speaks with her, refraining from touch until he can tell that she's comfortable with him. he shields her through the crowd at their wedding, gathers the train of her gown so she won't trip. he refuses a bedding ceremony, and assures her in the private of his chambers that they need not consumate.

he's freakishly attuned to her. she stays guarded months into their marriage, keeping him at arms length. he doesn't fight it, he works with her, lets himself be present when he's needed and doesn't force it when he isn't. if he's there when she needs him, she'll want to come to him more — this is his thinking.

because he's the only person she knows in winterfell, he's who she seeks out when she's nervous or overwhelmed or frightened. he's good at regualting her. holding her against his body and pressing little kisses down the side of her face; rubbing her back while she sits in his lap.

he can manage it when she won't tell him, too. he knows what to look for, the signs she displays when something is eating at her. the go-to is to slip his hand beneath her hair and rub the back of her neck with his thumb, soothing little semi-circles into her hairline. he finds that slipping an arm around her waist and pressing his palm against her stomach works too: i can feel you breathing, it tell her, slow down.

❝ either way you turn, i'll be there. ❞

doe eyes. unassuming disposition. soft voice.

stolen gazes. saffron and jasmine. stoicism.

[ femme!reader. no house / no apperance specified. ]