Raven Of The Fandoms

It’s not gonna be anything special for now, I’ll make it all aesthetic n shit later.

Harry Potter

Neville Longbottom

Your Secret Admirer

Matchmaker

Draco Malfoy

Forgive and Forget

Severus Snape

Sabotage

Game of Thrones

Sandor Clegane

The Lucky Stag - Part 1  Part 2 Part 3

Bronn of the Blackwater

Quiet Isle - Part 1

Jorah Mormont

Jorah the Northman

The Last Kingdom

Leofric

The Path of the Bear

Osferth

Word Count: 1085

Pairing: Osferth x Reader

Characters: Osferth, Finan (brief), Uthred of Bebbanburg (mentioned)

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, vague descriptions of SA but no actual scenes of it, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: I just finished Season 4 of the Last Kingdom today and damn, I wanna write for my boys Osferth and Finan so badly. This is just a blurb that popped in my head, mostly just to keep my writing more than anything. Also, I’m considering moving all my fics to my main @smalltownbigheart but I really don’t want my blog to be super cluttered and make my fics hard to find. I’m gonna think about it this next week though. I might not move the ones I’ve already posted but I might start posting on my main. We’ll see. Anyways, hope yall enjoy the angst <3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned. They belong to Bernard Cornwell and the producers of The Last Kingdom. I do not own any gifs used. They belong to their original creators.

You sat huddled in the corner of the room that had been your prison for the past month. A shiver ran through you and a rumble from your belly made you cringe. Smoke creeping in from the open window had you coughing lightly, but you could not drag your eyes from the spot on the wall they had fixed themselves onto, a crack in the wall that looked eerily like the cross that you once worshiped. It was not long before the sound of battle reached your ears, but you stayed in your spot, wrapping your arms around your legs tightly. 

It was many hours before a knock came to your door, shocking you from your reverie. Your eyes darted towards the wood, widening in fear. Shallow, steady breathes soon became rapid, fear gripping your chest. No more. I can’t take anymore, you thought to yourself. Darkness began to cloud the edge of your vision, panic making your breathing loud and erratic. Tears that you thought had dried in your eyes suddenly began to swell. The door opened slowly and you began to shake your head, as if saying no would stop the door from opening another inch. 

“(Y/N)?”

Word Count: 4274

Pairing: Beric Dondarrion x Jon Snow’s twin!Reader

Characters: Beric Dondarrion, Eddard Stark, Jon Snow, Thoros of Myr, Jory Cassel (mentioned), Jaime Lannister (mentioned), Arya Stark (mentioned), Sansa Stark (mentioned), Septa Mordane (mentioned)

A/N: Requested by @futuristicyouthvoid!! Sorry it took so long for me to finish this, just had a long week at work and I was feeling lazy. I finally finished myself to finish it tonight but I haven’t proofread so it might be a bit shitty compared to my normal stuff. I hope you still enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters mentioned. They belong to George R.R. Martin. I do not own any gifs used. They belong to their original creators. I do not consent to my work being published by other accounts or on other platforms.

Being a bastard was never easy. However, being a bastard of Ned Stark and the twin sister of Jon Snow made it significantly easier. Though you were detested by the Lady Catelyn Stark, no one went out of their way to make your life difficult. Your upbringing was fairly peaceful. Jon protected you and your half-siblings were kind. Robb would tease and joke with you, but was never anything less than a gentleman. Sansa was always friendly, bonding over your needlework with her. She was far better than you were, her mother being her teacher, but yours was not shabby by any means. Despite your friendship with Sansa, Arya was also quite fond of you, though not nearly as much as she was with Jon. When she was a bit younger, the two of you would play sword with longer branches you could find in the Godswood.

The Godswood was your favorite place in the entirety of Winterfell. It was quiet and always peaceful. Which is why you had sought it that particular evening. Dusk began to grow, but you could only sob under the watchful eyes of the heart trees’ faces. The godswood, typically a place of peace and sanctuary, was the only comfort you could think of after your brother told you of his plans to leave for the Night’s Watch when your father left for King’s Landing. 

You had been aware of this trip as soon as the wheels began to turn for it. You had resigned yourself to the fact that your father was leaving and taking your sisters with him. As long as you had Jon, you could face down Balerion himself. But the Night’s Watch? That wasn’t just someplace you could follow him to. You couldn’t and you wouldn’t. There was nothing at that frozen castle for a woman, let alone a bastard woman. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of being surrounded by the criminals you knew lurked there. Even Jon couldn’t fight the entirety of the Night’s Watch for you.

A particularly strong wind blew through the trees, making you look up. A large frame was walking towards you, forcing your back ramrod straight. Another anxious beat of your heart resonated in your chest before you recognized the shape. “Lord father, I did not realize it was you.” You relaxed as Lord Stark’s stoic face appeared clearly from the shadows.

“I did not mean to startle you, (Y/N).” He settled down on a log next to you. “I was told that I may find you out here. Jon has told you of his plans.” You nodded in affirmation, teeth finding your lip as you nibbled it anxiously. 

“My dear, I do not wish to see you unhappy. But I cannot allow you to go with your brother. I am sorry.” His tone was sincere as he placed a warm hand on your knee. Looking up at him with teary eyes, you nodded. You had no desire to go to the Wall anyways, but this command from Lord Stark only solidified it.

The two of you sat in silence for a short time before you spoke. “Father, may I ask you for something?” He chuckled softly and gave you a curt nod. “Would it be at all possible for me to go with you to King’s Landing? I know that I should not ask since I have asked so much already, but I do not wish to stay in Winterfell without Jon. I think I’d like to explore, see more of Westeros. If you would permit it, of course. I-I-... I can protect myself. Gods know I’ve knocked Robb on his arse plenty. And I wouldn’t need much! I would never ask anything to be a burden on you.” You were rambling, you realized, and cut yourself off from continuing with a shaky breath.

Ned gave you a soft smile before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him and closed your eyes, taking in the feeling. His strong arm was warm and cradled you gently. He smelled of the Godswood and the hall in the keep. Burning this moment into your brain rooted you back to reality and you looked up at him with a smile. “I would not deny you this, daughter. You are a Stark, even if you do not have the name. If it is your wish to accompany us, then it shall be so.” Your face lit up with a grin as you wrapped your arms around him tightly. The action caught Ned offguard, but he returned it nonetheless. “Now, come. You are missing dinner.”

                                                          —

The Red Keep was not at all what you had imagined it to be. It loomed over you as the Stark party finished the final leg of its journey. King’s Landing, however, was exactly what you imagined. The stench and crowds as described your lord father had not been exaggerated, making you hate both upon arrival. 

It was fairly easy to trudge through the rest of the day, seeking the comfort of a comfortable bed after many months on the road. After all formalities had been seen to, you were shown to your rooms. Here, you had a servant prepare a bath for you as well as bring you food. The woman curstied and scurried away when you thanked her. As soon as she left, you worked on stripping yourself, hands working on their own as your mind strayed to the ride in. It was there, that you saw a familiar yet almost unrecognized face. Ser Beric Dondarrion. A few years your elder, he was someone you had met at a tourney in honor of the betrothal of one of the Tully cousins to one of his own cousins. You were both younger then, you only turning two and ten while Beric had recently celebrated his 17th nameday. 

He had gone to the abandoned training grounds that were on the other side of the castle from the tourney field. The day had been long and it was only midday. His father pushing him to find a bride was not something he wanted to deal with all day, so he decided to hack at a training dummy all day instead.

Here, he found you sparring with Jon, still short and awkward and chubby-faced. Despite the small age gap, the three of you became good friends over the duration of the week-long tourney. When you all bid goodbye for the last time, he swore to send ravens and Jon agreed to do the same. Over the past few years, however, the ravens became sparse and the letters not as detailed as when you were children. Seeing his face again had been a slight shock. He seemed older now, his hair cropped short and close to his head and a certain weariness in his eyes that had not been there before. You know, of course, that he had been named Lord of Blackhaven a few years after that tourney, but you were not prepared to see him like that.

Reaching up, you pulled free the few pins in your hair, shaking your mane out as you did. Your fingers pressed lightly into the slightly aching areas the metal had left behind. Once you were free from your confined clothing, you grabbed a robe from one of your chests that had been delivered to your room. It was slightly too warm for the warm climate of King’s Landing. The thick material still smelled of home, however, and it brought a sense of comfort to you. You wrapped it around yourself, burying your nose into your shoulder. 

A soft knock broke you from your reverie and had your feet following the sound to your door. “Thank the gods,” you muttered to yourself. The ache in your stomach had begun to grow. You were quite surprised, however, to find someone holding a tray of food that was not your maid. “Lord Beric!” The shock must have been evident upon your face because he simply chuckled and nodded.

“Lady (Y/N). A pleasure to see you again after all these years.” Still a gentleman, it seemed, given his use of a title that did not belong to you. “I thought I had seen you this morning in the Great Hall but I was not sure. Forgive the intrusion, but I had to see for myself if it was truly you.” There was an almost childlike expression of excitement on his face as he gazed upon you. A beat of breath held silence between the two of you before he realized he had caught you at a stage of undress.

“I was wondering the same, actually.” You admitted, wrapping yourself a bit tighter in your robe. “Forgive my state, I was expecting my maid.” He nodded, holding up the tray he seemed to have forgotten momentarily.

“Yes, that is where I got this. She went off to fetch bathwater, I believe.” He kept his eyes firmly planted on your face, honor not allowing his eyes to drift. The thought made you smile slightly, glad to know he hadn’t grown out of his knightly habits. “Jon is not with you?” In the short time he knew you both, the dark-headed twins were never far from one another. 

You shook your head gently, opening the door fully and gesturing for him to come in. He set the tray of food down on the table before turning back to you. “I’m afraid not. He’s actually gone to the Wall. My brother plans on taking the black.” A bittersweet smile graced your lips. 

He answered with his own small frown. “I’m sorry to hear that. For you, at least. I know that must not have been easy.” You shrugged slightly but nodded in affirmation.

“I will be alright. It’s about time I got rid of the sack of bones.” You attempted with a lighthearted joke, which he graciously chuckled at. “Truthfully, I am glad he is doing what will make him happy. He deserves it.”

Beric took a few steps closer to you. “And, if I may be so forward, my lady, what do you plan? Hopefully to find your own happiness.”

Your cheeks warmed imperceptibly. “I do hope to find that, yes. I must admit, I have thought quite a bit on what I will do here, but I still do not know.” You chuckled softly, eyes flicking up to his. 

“Perhaps we would be able to know each other better while you are here. If you can make the time for me, of course.” His tone was teasing and the glint in his eyes was full of mirth. The soft scuttle of shoes on the stone behind you drew your attention from the knight in front of you. Your maid had returned with two others to fill your bath. “For now, my lady, I will leave you.” 

“I think I will be able to make time to see you, my lord. A very thoughtful offer that I would gladly take. A good night to you, Lord Beric.” He now stood right in front of you, bowing to take your hand. His lips brushed your knuckles, light as a feather. Your eyes never left each others, so you curtseyed, the only thing you could think to do.

“Sleep well, my lady.” With that, he was gone and your maid was informing you that your bath was ready. When you sank into the warm water, you blamed the red heat across your face on the steam.

                                                          —

Days turned into weeks that turned into months of your time in King’s Landing. Three months, to be exact. You managed to fill your days despite your earlier doubts. You spent your time either exploring the Red Keep with Arya, working your needlepoint with Sansa, or spending time with Beric. Often times, the two of you would spar with one another, There were days, however, when you spent your time with him walking through the gardens or walking the markets of King’s Landing. 

“My lady, I hope I have not kept you waiting.” His voice behind you made you startle, but you turned to look up at him with a warm smile.

“Not at all, my lord.” You took the arm he offered to you before your short trek to the palace gardens. “I hope your morning was kind to you.” He had told you before that he prefers to do any and all business that he must as Lord of Blackhaven.

“It was nothing too difficult, my lady. Mostly, I spent my time waiting for a delivery from the marketplace.” Your brow quirked at him but you kept your face forward.

A small smile graced your lips when you felt his eyes on your face. “I hope your purchase was worth your wait and coin, my lord.” He nodded in agreement.

“I suppose you will have to tell me.” The two of you came to a halt as he removed his arm from your hand to reach into his coat. From an interior pocket, he produced a box, just longer than his hand that it sat upon.

Your eyes lit up in surprise as you gazed up at him. “Is it…?” Gifts were not something you were entirely unused to, but they were very unused to handsome young men, even if it was just friendly.

“For you, my lady. I hope you will find it as beautiful as I find you.” His words were spoken gently, though they still brought what you were sure was a pink dusting to your cheeks.

Opening the box, you found the most beautiful dagger that you had ever seen. The hilt had carvings of direwolves on one side, while a small purple jewel, one of his house’s colors, sat in the middle of the engravings on the other side. Your eyes, suddenly watery, turned up to him.”My lord, it’s…” Words failed to come to you. “I don’t know that I can accept this.” He smiled and shook his head, clasping the hand that held the knife gently.

“You can and you will. I insist.” You couldn’t help the grin that grew on your cheeks. The moment your eyes met, however, you swore a spark hit your chest. His gaze drew you in, leaving you nearly breathless. No words were spoken, the heat of his hand on yours suddenly very intense.

“Lady (Y/N), your father sends for you.” The voice of one of your father’s men snapped the pair of you from whatever moment you had just been caught in. A guilty blush engulfed your cheeks as you nodded. 

“Thank you. I will be along in just a moment.” You returned your gaze to Beric. “Only because you insist, my lord, I will thank you for this incredibly generous gift.” You dipped into a curtsey before placing the lid atop the box again. He bid you a soft goodbye, which you returned, before you followed your father’s man.

Arriving in your father’s chambers, a bolt of panic struck any floating feelings you held of your moment with Lord Beric into the dirt. “Father!” You cried as you rushed to his bedside, kneeling by your lord father’s head. Sansa stood to your right while Arya, on the other side of the bed, looked almost wrathful. “What has happened?” A gleam of sweat covered your father’s pale face and his leg was propped up under blanket. “There was a… situation with Ser Jaime.” Ned did not wish to delve into the details with your younger sisters around, so he motioned to Septa Mordane, who herded the younger two Stark girls from the room. “He attacked us in the streets. Jory is dead.” His hand found your free one, gripping it gently as a sob racked through your chest. Jory had been the first of your father’s men to train you willingly, acting as another older brother. You held a great amount of love for the man. Gently, your father tugged on your hand and motioned for you to sit on the bed next to him. You obliged, Beric’s gift resting in your lap. “Daughter, I worry. For your safety, especially. You do not have the Stark name to protect you.”

“I can protect myself, father. I can protect Sansa and Arya, too.” Your voice was pleading as you looked at him, scared of his next words. His smile was sad as he looked up at you. “I know, my child, I know. But I would rather you protect yourself somewhere else. King’s Landing is too dangerous. (Y/N), I want you to leave tonight. Ride for Riverrun. Though Cat is not your mother, the Tullys will still protect you. You are family. Hoster and Edmure have always been kind to you and your brother.” He readjusted his position on the bed gently, trying to keep the pain from flaring. “Tonight, you will pack a bag and take some money and food and ride.” His voice left no room for discussion. Though you knew he wanted only to protect you, fat tears still dropped onto your cheeks.

He reached up to pet your hair softly before looking at the box in your lap. “A gift? From who?” His attempts to distract you from tears made you smile softly. You lifted the lid from the box and presented the blade to him. “Lord Beric. He has just graced me with it before I came to you.” Ned’s eyes looked over you with a small, knowing smile.

“I’m sorry I am making you do this thing, but it must be done.” You nodded your agreement before standing. “And, for your safety, I beg that you do not tell anyone that you are leaving. I will explain it to Sansa and Arya.”

 You nodded again. “I suppose I shall go prepare then. I shall see you tonight, Lord Father.”

That night, you found yourself pressing a kiss goodbye to your father’s cheek before one of his men whisked you away to the stables. An extra simple gown, a bag of gold, and a few days rations of food weighed your saddle pack while your sword and gifted dagger swayed on your belt.

                                                          —

“Lord Beric Dondarrion. You shall have the command. Assemble one hundred men and ride to Ser Gregor’s keep.” The young lord agreed and, after Lord Eddard sentenced Ser Gregor, was ready to leave so he may prepare. “A moment, Lord Beric.” The younger man nodded and approached the Hand as everyone else left the Great Hall. Though the pair received an inquiring look from Littlefinger, they were soon alone. Ned’s voice was soft as he spoke, not wanting to be overheard. “As well as bringing Ser Gregor to justice, I would like to ask something else of you.”

Beric nodded. “Anything, Lord Hand.” Eddard’s gaze flicked to the doors and then to the hall leading to the Small Council room.

“My daughter, (Y/N). I have sent her to the Riverlands for her safety, after I was attacked. I told her to ride for Riverrun, but I fear she shall not go to my good father’s home. I ask that you search for her while in the Riverlands. Protect her, make sure she makes it to the Wall if you can. I imagine that is where she will want to go.” Beric’s heart skipped a beat at the Hand’s request. When you had disappeared a week ago, no note and no goodbye, he feared that he overstepped his boundaries. “I will find her, Lord Hand, and give my life for hers if I must.”

                                                          —

Months had passed since you had fled King’s Landing. Eddard’s suspicions were correct. He was taken prisoner and beheaded not long after. The rest of your household was killed with him, the only ones spared being Sansa and, presumably, Arya. When you had heard the news, you were staying at an inn in the Riverlands. Riverrun was nearby, but you had not yet decided if you wished to continue as your lord father had wished or if you wanted to find your brother.

Sitting at a table by yourself, you mulled over your thoughts with a tank of ale in your hands and the leftover remnants of your warm dinner in front of you. So lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice the man who decided to sit across from you. He was pock-faced and stank immensely of piss and ale. Immediately, he tried to get you to lay with him, his words slurred together. His attempt was shortlived, thankfully, as a lithe man with a bun pulling the hair from his face stepped in. The new man boxed the other around the ears, which had the drunk man grumbling before stumbling away.

“I apologize for my man. He’s drunk. My name is Thoros, my lady.” Thoros sat in the now vacant seat across from you. 

“I thank you, Ser Thoros. I was worried his smell would bring my dinner back onto my plate.” He chuckled at your sharp tongue. “I am (Y/N) Sn-... Stone.” After recent events, you had to remind yourself that being a Northerner outside of the North was far less safe than being a bastard of anywhere else. Thoros eyes narrowed at you slightly before he smiled politely.

“Well, (Y/N), it is a pity that you’re not a Snow. My men and I have been instructed by our lord to look out for a (Y/N) Snow. My lord is not looking for any Stones, though, so I suppose I shall leave you to your drink.” He stood from the table and started to make his way back to sit with his men.

“Wait!” You turned to stand after him. “Who is your lord?”

                                                          —

“Thoros is returning, my lord.” Beric nodded at the soldier before standing from his seat. Resheathing his sword, he walked towards the approaching party. He counted an extra horse, however, and greeted Thoros with a confused look. 

“My friend, may I present to you, (Y/N) Snow. Or so she says.” Thoros grinned at his friend teasingly, who gazed up at you with surprise in his eye. You dismounted your horse before approaching him timidly. It was not lost on you that you had disappeared from him, not saying anything about where you were going, and you were worried he would be upset with you, though it would be rightfully.

“Lord Beric,” you murmured before dropping into a curtsey. The man said nothing. Fear crept into your gut as you kept your eyes fixed on the ground in front of you. You were more than surprised, however, when Beric approached you quickly and pulled you into his arms. A small gasp fell from your lips before your own arms wrapped around his neck, face buried in his strong shoulder.

“(Y/N)... I was so worried,” he admitted when he pulled away from you, his hands holding onto your arms gently. Eye flicking around you, he noticed that many of his men were watching the pair of you. “Come. Let us find some privacy.” You nodded in agreement as he lead you to a secluded area of their hideout.

“I’m sorry,” you said as soon as you were alone. “My father was attacked and he wanted me to be safe so I ran. I wanted to say goodbye, truly, but he forbade it and I’m so sorry. Especially after you gave me such a thoughtful gift, I felt most horrible to leave you as I did.” You knew you were rambling but struggled to shut the floodgates as words tumbled from your lips.

Beric did not mind. Instead of letting you continue your rambling, his warm, calloused hand cupped your face before dropping his lips to meet your own. Your eyes shot open in surprise before fluttering closed, returning his soft yet desperate kiss. He was the first to pull away, resting his forehead against yours. “I thought I had scared you away. But your lord father sent me here and he told me everything. He asked me to find you.” Tears welled in your eyes at his words. “I am so sorry for your loss, (Y/N).” His voice was soft as he spoke.

Tears spilled over but his thumbs were quick to wipe them from your cheeks. “I was supposed to go to Riverrun but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” Your voice was watery and trembling as you spoke.

“The Lord of Light. He knew we would find you.” You giggled softly, more in surprise than anything. “My lady, I ask that you forgive my boldness again, but I must admit. You have my heart, (Y/N). When you left, I knew I had to find you again. Now you are here. I beg that you stay with me. Let me protect you. Let me love you.”

Your own hand came up to caress his cheek, his head leaning into your palm. “The old gods and the new would have to drag me away from you, Beric.” He smiled at you, sunshine from his grin warming you through. Pulling away from him slightly, you allowed yourself to take in his appearance. His beard had grown out much more, a patch covered his right eye, and a new weariness made him look older than his 21 years. “What’s happened to you?” Your fingers drifted over the patch.

Word Count: 2690 (nice)

Pairing: Leofric x Reader

Characters: Leofric of Wessex, Uthred Ragnarson/Uthred of Bebbanburg (brief), Mildreth (brief), Iseult (mentioned), King Peredur (mentioned)

A/N: First TLK post! They gave us a sassy, badass warrior that is absurdly large and slightly too old for me and since that’s exactly my type, I had to write about him. I want to make this a series as well, but I’m gonna start my Beric request after this and then my modern!Aemond fic/series to be hopefully. Also also, there’s a Grenn x reader sitting in my drafts rn. FYI, in this one I use italics for thoughts, which is new for me, so tell me if you like it! Also, I mention Grian who is, according to my five minute on Google, a Celtic/pre-Christian goddess of the sun, and specifically the winter sun. Since reader is Iseult’s sister in this, I imagine she would be a pagan, just not a Danish one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned. They belong to Bernard Cornwell and the producers of The Last Kingdom. I do not own any gifs used. They belong to their original creators.

The farmstead you had been camping near for the past few weeks was quiet. There was only one man who you ever saw near the house, and sometimes a woman was with him. Workers tended the fields and took care of the animals nearby, but they were always too busy with their daily chores to notice. You did not necessarily need to hide yourself well, typically just spending your days in the woods foraging or hunting if you could and your nights sleeping in the barn on the grounds. Once the workers all left for home after their day, the farmstead was empty save for the animals you roomed with.

It was not luxury and it was nothing like the life you grew up with. The life you had up until two months ago almost felt like a sweet dream. There was much of it you missed, like your sister and a day filled with nothing but chores and gossip. Then your sister left, married off to some king in Cornwalum for her skills as a gwarch. A mother’s gift, as your own mother called it. Something she inherited from her mother, who received it from her mother, and so on. Only you did not receive it. Your older sister, Iseult, did and she was quite powerful. Her bride price was very valuable, more valuable than you could have ever dreamed of bringing to your family. That did not stop your father’s efforts. It took two more years for him to find someone who would pay a good bride price for you. The day he told you that he found you a husband was the day you ran.