#Wish Envoy

[fogaminghub]

🌌 Hey, Infinity Nikki fans! 🎉 Ready to tackle The Truth is Close Quest? Our detailed guide will walk you through everything from unlocking the quest to finding all the magical rewards! Don’t let this quest pass you by—check it out! 🎭✨

[tarbuchyloewenthal]

Can you be Inquisitor Lödwyn's ex in Avowed??

ok so this could be a wild leap of logic buuuuut

in the annual obsidian extralife stream, during the avowed segment with kate dollarhyde, carrie patel, and berto ritger, berto mentioned that his favorite background for the envoy is war hero for a secret choice near the beginning of the game.

enter this screen from gamespot's preview footage

so at the very least your envoy could know lödwyn previously. my memory is fuzzy, but i think i read one other preview talk about lödwyn in a way that implies that you can choose for your former relationship to be a bit more than acquaintances.

i'm going to have to start like 3 playthroughs in parallel just to sate my curiosity.

[hopeforbountifulasks]

the dream dynamic is you & your dog who knows how to handle compliments better than you

[lovenikkitimeprincess]

I want to thank my girl Nikki. "I wished for all girls to never have cramps again" - what an icon. Thank you queen.

[caitas-cooing]

Played Infinity Nikki until my head hurt so I let my little brother have a turn on the computer

[brittle-doughie]

Since we had that story of Y/N Cookie wanting to keep the Ancients from going out and getting themselves killed up against Dark Enchantress Cookie, how about something similar with the Beasts?

>The Beasts get corrupted

>Y/N Cookie, not corrupted, tries to fight them, and fails

>cue them starting to die

>Beasts start panicking, completely overestimating how much Y/N Cookie could take

>Y/N Cookie, in their last moments, wishes they could’ve done more to help the Beasts not get corrupted before finally going

>Witch(es) stumble upon this scene, seeing their greatest cookie having been crumbled, along with whatever other carnage is around

>cue literally everything else

Being sealed away with the guilt of spilling jam from the cookie you all loved the most fresh on your mind? They are NOT gonna be doing so hot in there.

The Tale of the Forced Hand (The Five Beasts)

Witch’s Castle witches are pretty neat.

“The story begins when this very Silver Tree was only a small sapling…When the World of Desserts was at its infancy.”

“The Witches baked six Cookies to help them in their creation of the world.”

“..harness the radiance bestowed upon you for the betterment of this world…”

“And the six Cookies imbued with absolute powers walked Earthbread as almighty envoys of the Great Creators.”

“Knowledge, Volition, Compassion, Happiness, Change, and Solidarity.”

“The Dessert World bound by these Five Virtues was nothing short of paradise.”

Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie chimed in with their responses.

“So those six Cookies were the original owners of the Soul Jam?”

“Huh…Those “Six Virtues” are different from those of the Soul Jams. There’s six of them, yet only five today…”

“The Virtue of Compassion is what held the other Virtues so closely together, cherishing each of them equally as much.”

“Alas, for they and the perfect age were short-lived. Absolute power begets nothing but arrogance. It inevitably corrupts its wielder, bringing them to the most tragic of ends…A fate even the Witches were unable to foresee.”

“One by one, the Five, once regarded as saviors of the Cookie World, gradually turned to Darkness. And thus, the Five Virtues, too, became distorted, twisted…reduced to Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence….”

Strawberry Cookie shuddered in worry at the mere mention of the fallen virtues.

“Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence..that sounds really scary…

“Wait, what about the Virtue of Compassion? They weren’t evil too, were they?”

“The Virtue of Compassion was able to prevail against their descent into Darkness with their Soul Jam, whereas now the Five Beasts, the apostles of evil, began their dark crusade…”

“The Witches asked of Compassion to protect the Cookie World from the Beast Cookies, lending them what strength they could give.”

“Compassion fought bravely against the Beasts, blocking each of their blows and resisting their sickly whispers…But it was only a matter of time before Compassion slowly began to whittle…”

———————————————————————

“Come on, snap out of you all! This isn’t what you guys once were!”

“What’s the big deal, silly willy~ There isn’t anything wrong with dabbling yourself in a little bit of Darkness, you should try it with us!”

“No! This isn’t you! You were all my best friends! Come to your senses! Now!”

“It pains me to see you still cling onto false hope that you’re different than the rest of us, darling~ Can you just let go and become who you really are? For me~?”

“I can’t…I cannot forsake my oath to protect the Cookie World. You all know that! Cookies that want happy lives, don’t you want that?”

“They will all meet the same fate in the end, reduced to nothing…the futility of all this should be clear to you…”

“As if! It isn’t pointless to live life the way you want it to! It’s how you spend it and make the most of it!”

“They will all crumble in the end, so why not give them a little push! You’re starting to really aggravate me now, Y/N Cookie!”

“I won’t let you hurt them and I don’t want to hurt you all any more then I have to! Please, don’t do this…”

“……”

“Your silence says everything I need to hear from you. I tried…but I will put a stop you no matter if I’m reduced to bits!”

———————————————————————

“Woah….What happened to them?”

“The Virtue of Compassion fought for as long as they were able, their dough slowly whittling away with every blow that dealt to them. The Beasts have overestimated just how durable their former friend was…and they perished right in the middle of the circle….”

———————————————————————

“Ok, ya silly goose! You can stand right back up now! You put on a great show, let us give you a round of applause!”

“Darling, we know we haven’t hit you too hard. You can join us and we can all be together once more as Beasts…”

“Hmm…they don’t seem to be responding to us…”

“Hey, Y/N Cookie. Quit being soft and get up already, you’re..starting to worry me a bit here, you know.”

Silent Salt Cookie knelt down and placed their thumb on your wrist…jumping back when they feel nothing…

“Ahaha! Okay! This isn’t funny anymore, you softie! You win! Stand up on your two feet now! I’ll make you if you don’t!”

“D-Darling? P-Please get up. Look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I-WE just really wanted you to join us…”

“Burning Spice Cookie, just how hard were your strikes to their dough?

“D-Don’t put any type of blame on me! All of you were just as rough with them as I was!”

“….!”

The Beast Cookies rushed to their fallen friend in the center, clearly distraught on their faces…

“Y/N Cookie, if you don’t stop playing jokes with me right now, I’ll never forgive you!”

“Darling! Wake up! I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have hit you so hard! Please wake up! You have to! Don’t leave me alone!”

“It was pointless to try and stop us, Y/N Cookie. Yet…my heart cries and aches, why did you have to resist….please, wake up…”

“God DAMN IT. I-I went too far, I shouldn’t have been so brutal with my swings and now look at you, your dough..damaged and ruined….because of me….”

“….Hmph….”

Silent Salt just lowered their head to look at the ground, feeling nothing but shame and remorse for what they had done…for what they all had done….

“I wish…I could’ve done more for you all…I wished…that I had loved all of you more…to not…end up like this...”

“…..I’m sorry…..”

———————————————————————

“The Witches couldn’t bear to see what fate had befallen their creations, made even more distraught at the loss of their greatest creation among them all…they punished the Beasts by sealing them away deep within this land…”

“And planted the seed of the Silver Tree to ensure their evil power never sees the light of day again. Right where the Virtue of Compassion was laid to rest, so that at least a part of them can live on….From then on, this land where the Beasts were put to sleep, was called Beast Yeast.”

“The Witches then gathered the last vestiges of power bestowed upon the Beasts, untouched by their corruption. They further cleansed, purified it, and in the end…Soul Jam was created. The purest Soul Jam was meant to be earned by Cookies who had proven themselves worthy.”

“All, but Compassion. For their purity simply could not be remade again. The Witch who personally baked Compassion had locked herself away in grief after the loss of her cookie and took the knowledge of the recipe and baking of Compassion with her…”

“So, there can never be another cookie like Compassion?”

“It’s what they say, but all life powder returns to the earth. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility that the Virtue of Compassion may return in some form, someday…”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Y/N Cookie, who was casually eating some food offered to them by the Faeries.

“…..What?”

[echos-muses]

i’m not ready for any of it, i’m not ready for rhaenyra’s grief for luke, i’m not ready for daemon to betray her, i’m not ready for jace to die, i’m not ready for b&c, i’m not ready for helaena’s death, i’m not ready for ANY. SINGLE. BIT. OF. IT.

I don't think I'm mentally prepared for the relationship of the greens to get strained, aemond alr feeling distant towards his mother because of her hesitant nature and her not wanting to attack rhaenyra.

And aegon screaming that he wants revenge?

Alicent reaching out and trying to grab helaena's hand while running away?

Yeah I'm cooked 😭

[space-ninja-fashion-show]

I didn't realise Venari could tie down the sentient scouts but it got so intimidated by this that Lotus didn't even mention it being there

[illyrianbrat]

Queen's Envoy

Pairing: (fancast) Benjicot Blackwood & Velaryon female!reader

Plot: The Princess is sent as an envoy to get more allies. She is tasked with treating lords in the Riverlands. As she finds herself far from home, she discovers a certain Blackwood boy, who isn't as scary as she thought.

Warnings: typical westeros stuff, badly written panic attack, losing consciousness, being carried (no weight mention tho)

N/A: thanks to my friend and grammarly cause i had such a huge mess

“Prince Jacaerys will fly north. First to the Eyrie to see my mother's cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn, and then to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm's End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. And Princess Name will fly west to Raventree Hall and treat with Lord Blackwood. We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore.”

Rhaenyra saw how her children talked in the distance, as they were getting ready to depart. Name held Luke's hand and chuckled softly at something he said. The Queen’s heart ached as they embraced, expressing good wishes and mentioning how they would eat by the beach when they all returned.

-

Flying to the Riverlands was not an issue. As they flew over forests, [Name] rehearsed what she would say out loud. She would speak of uniting the realm, strength, and the promise of a good queen. During his reign, Viserys Targaryen named Rhaenyra as his heir, but the Hightowers were now threatening her claim. The support of the Riverlords was crucial for the cause and [Name] knew this.

Goldwing descended on a small clearing of flowers, allowing [Name] to slide down his wing. She caressed the dragon's face, glad that they arrived safely.

She glanced around, seeing how a group of men were pointing at them in the distance. [Name] heart began to race as she clutched the dagger Daemon insisted she had to take. Goldwing stood tall, protecting his rider.

“We mean no harm,” one of the men said, now at a talking distance. They were all staring at Goldwing in awe, they had never seen a dragon.

“What do you want, girl?” The other asked with curiosity.

“I am here to see Lord Blackwood.”

Their expressions turned from amazement to worry as a guy walked towards her with a crazed, yet amused look. “And who is looking for him?” He eyed her shamelessly, not missing the intricate details in the riding leathers she wore.

“Princess [Name] Velaryon,” she revealed proudly, not allowing herself to feel intimidated.

The boys fell silent, shock evident on their faces. They never expected to see a princess in the Riverlands. The boy cleared his throat and lightly scratched his brow, uncomfortable with his crude behavior. "My name is Benjicot Blackwood," he said. "But I can guide you to Raventree Hall if you'd like to speak with my father."

“Thank you,” [Name] smiled kindly.

They walked quietly, [Name] was enjoying the smell of nature and the breeze. The air was crisp, as the sun had just risen not long ago. [Name] glanced at Ben from the corner of her eye, expecting him to speak about something, since he seemed like the type that would talk for hours. Ben, on the other hand, was very aware of [Name’s] presence beside him. She moved with grace and her eyes filled with wonder at her surroundings. He had never seen anyone like her, and her sudden appearance had sparked different emotions in him.

They eventually reached Raventree Hall. Everyone inside the walls stopped and stared, even murmured, about the unexpected visitor. As they approached the main hall, Ben finally broke the silence. "My father is a good man," he promised. "He will listen to you. No matter what you need, he can help you."

[Name] nodded, grateful for his reassurance. "Thank you, Ben," she replied softly. "I hope he listens. It's... it's important."

Ben gave a small, encouraging smile and pushed the door open, gesturing for [Name] to enter first. Perhaps this meeting would get a strong army to support her mother’s claim to the Iron Throne.

-

Raventree Hall was filled with laughter, clinking goblets, and loud chatter. Samwell Blackwood had reaffirmed his claim to support Rhaenyra Targaryen, the rightful heir.

Samwell sat on the high table, alongside his sister Alyssane and his son Benjicot. The boy, however, could not take his eyes off her. His admiration grew into a silent yearning.

As the evening grew late, Ben found himself drawn into conversations with the Princess. At first, he stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing. But [Name], sensing his nerves, engaged him in discussions about anything that crossed her mind.

Encouraged by her words, Ben found himself talking more freely. He recounted tales of his training, his support for her mother’s claim and of course, about fights he had with Bracken boys. Throughout the night, they shared stories and laughter. Others at the feast noted their conversation and exchanged glances, some smiling at the young boy’s naiveness.

As [Name] stood up to leave for the night, Ben grabbed her hand and spoke without thinking, “Princess, would you like a tour through the Riverlands?”

[Name’s] heart was pounding in her chest. “Of course, I would love that.”

-

Ben woke with the sun, excitement coursing through him.

After getting dressed, he hurried through the castle to the guest chambers. As he knocked on the door, he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling shy.

There was no response from inside. Did she leave without me? He wondered as he knocked again, but still no answer. Glancing down the hallway, he slowly opened the door.

[Name] was there, lying on the bed. "Princess?" Ben called out softly. She turned toward his voice, struggling to open her eyes. "Oh... I apologize for waking you," Ben said, now feeling like he had ruined everything. "We can speak later."

"No," [Name] protested, her voice groggy. Ben's heart fluttered, he thought that was adorable. "Let me get dressed. I will meet you by the gates."

-

Ben was talking a stroll through the gardens, waiting on [Name]. He was debating if he should give her a bouquet of wildflowers when the maester hurried towards him, a letter clutched in his hand. The urgency in his eyes made Ben’s heart drop. Accepting the letter, he noticed the seal of Dragonstone and felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He read the brief message: Prince Lucerys was dead.

He found her not far away, possibly on her way to meet him, lost in thought. Ben approached her slowly, the letter gripped tightly in his hand.

“[Name],” he called softly, trying to keep his voice calm.

She looked up, her face brightening before she saw his expression. “Ben, is something wrong?"

He stood in front of her, taking a deep breath. “I received a letter from Dragonstone,” he began, his voice heavy with pity. “It’s about your brother, Lucerys.”

[Name’s] eyes widened, a mix of fear and dread washing over her face. “What happened to Luke?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Ben handed her the letter, not trusting himself to tell her.

Her hands shook as she read it. She stared at him, her face draining of color. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, it can’t be true.” Her breathing grew rapid and shallow, her eyes wide with panic. “Luke...no...” she gasped, struggling to catch her breath. She stumbled, her movements frantic. “I need to get to him,” she cried, looking around desperately. “I need to go home.”

Ben reached out to steady her. “[Name], please,” he pleaded, but she was not hearing him. She broke free from his grasp, running towards Goldwing.

“No!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “I have to go to him!”

Goldwing lifted its head, sensing her distress. [Name] reached for the reins, her hands shaking uncontrollably. “We have to go,” she repeated, her voice frantic.

Before Ben could intervene, her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground. “[Name]!” he shouted, rushing to her side. Goldwing roared, eyes glowing with worry.

Ben cradled her in his arms, his heart pounding. Servants and guards came running after hearing the dragon, their faces filled with concern as Ben lifted her body and ran inside to the guest chambers.

Ben stayed by her bed after she was examined by the maester, holding her hand and watching over her. As he sat there, his heart ached, knowing that the pain of losing her brother was something no words could heal.

Hours later, a soft groan had alerted Ben that she had woken up. [Name] stared at the room, confused by her surroundings, before trying to stand up. “Easy,” he begged, pushing her back onto her pillow. “Please don’t stand up.

After some minutes of silence, [Name] rubbed her hands on her face. “I remember... my brother..."

“I know. I'm so sorry,” Ben grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently..

“I… what now?” She asked herself, starting to tear up.

“The maester said you can return to Dragonstone when you feel better,” Ben informed her.

[Name] nodded. “I do not think I can travel back alone,” she whispered to him, causing Ben to give her a reassuring smile.

“Then I can go with you,” Ben softly wiped the tears from her cheeks.

[aemondloverr]

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 𝐈

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐) 

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 • 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: As the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra, you are sent to the North to negotiate terms with Lord Stark.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Disapproving Jace

𝐰𝐜: 𝟐.𝟒𝐤

𝐀/𝐍: Ngl school was kicking my ass but I still wanna deliver 😪 (btw, cregan appears in the next part, not the first. sorryyy :p

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

“Mother? You sent for me?”

Rhaenyra is sitting at a table in her chambers, sipping wine and surrounded by various papers and documents. She looks up as you enter and a soft smile tugs at her lips, her eyes seeming to light up for just a moment

“Yes, my daughter. Come, sit with me.”

She pats the seat beside her, clearing a space among the piles of documents. There's an expectant look in her eye, her gaze resting on you

“I have something to discuss with you.”

Oh no

You know whenever those words come from the mouth of a mother, it’s never good. You’re either in trouble, or it’s something serious.

You approach the chair nervously and sit.

She sighs and sets down her glass of wine, shifting her attention fully to you. Her eyes seem to search your face for a moment before she speaks again.

“You're growing up so fast, you know that? It feels like just yesterday you were a little girl running through the gardens, laughing and playing with your brothers.”

You smile at the mention of fond memories.

Oh Gods. A speech is always a bad indicator. Especially one of childhood.

A pang of bittersweet nostalgia seems to pass over Rhaenyra’s features as she continues, her voice taking on a hint of regret

“Sometimes, I wish I could freeze time and keep you just as you are right now, still young and innocent, before the world has a chance to harden your heart. But… that’s not the way things work, is it?”

“I know mother…” Your smile quickly fades and you worry for what she’ll say next.

Rhaenyra holds your gaze for a moment before she speaks again, her voice soft and earnest

“You're much more perceptive than your brothers, you know that? You always were, even as a child. You always seemed to know what I was thinking before I even said it-”

“Is there something you want me to do?” It would be nice if she stopped beating around the bush and just asked.

She takes a deep breath as if steeling herself for what comes next, her gaze unwavering and intent on you

“…As you know, my reign is not without its challenges. There are those who question my claim to the throne, who think that my rule is not rightful. I need you to understand, my love, that in the future you may be forced to make difficult decisions, decisions that will impact not just your own life, but the future of the entire realm.”

You stare, expectantly

“This is why I am asking you to go to Winterfell…”

What…??

“But mother…”

She knows that this is the part where you'll likely protest

“I know you don't want to go, my love. I know that leaving home, leaving me, is difficult for you. Believe me, I would not ask this of you if there was any other option.”

“But Cregan…you know what he did…”

You’d expected something important yes, but this?…This was simply too much to ask of you .

Her hand comes to rest on top of yours in a comforting gesture.

“I know, my love. I know it hurt you greatly, believe me, it pained me to see you so distraught.”

“So why can’t you send Jace. Why would you send me to see him??”

“Jace is a good, honourable boy. I know he would do his duty and serve me well as a diplomatic envoy to Winterfell. But he is not you. I'm sending you for a reason, my love.”

“And why’s that??” You begin to get frustrated

Rhaenyra looks straight into your eyes, her gaze unwavering as she speaks

“Because Cregan Stark is a proud and stubborn man, one who values strength and resilience. He is unlikely to listen to just anyone. But he knows you. He once cared for you, deeply. I'm sending you there as someone who has the potential to sway him to our cause.”

“This is not fair. How could you even consider asking me this when you know—“

She sees you tearing up and reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, her touch, gentle and tender

“You know that duty must take precedence over desire…”

“For the realm...” You mutter, a tear falling

Rhaenyra's heart aches to see the tears in your eyes, but she doesn't falter in her resolve. She lifts her free hand to your face, gently wiping away a tear that threatens to spill down your cheek.

“Yes, my love. For the realm…”

She gently pulls you closer, letting you rest your head against her shoulder. She runs her fingers through your hair, her touch soft and soothing

“…For our family. For all the people we are sworn to protect.”

*****

Later that evening at supper

The entire family is gathered around the large table in the dining hall, eating their supper and engaging in light conversation. Rhaenyra is seated at the head of the table, daemon at the other with Jace seated to her left and Luke to her right.

Joffrey is seated across from Jace, chattering away happily about some toy he received. Rhaenyra glances up to where you are sitting, a small but weary smile on her face

Jace notices your quieter-than-usual demeanor and nudges you gently with his elbow

“Hey, are you alright? You're awfully quiet tonight.”

“Yea I’m alright, I’ll tell you later” you whisper.

Jace looks at you for a moment, his expression one of concern, but nods understandingly. He returns to his food, but you can feel his gaze occasionally flicking over to you throughout the meal.

*****

Rhaenyra stands and taps her glass.

At her signal, the conversation around the table dies down, and everyone turns to face her. Rhaenyra stands, her expression serious as she looks around at her family

She clears her throat and speaks, her voice steady and commanding

"Before everyone retires for the evening, I have an announcement to make."

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, her gaze flickering briefly to you before continuing.

"As you all know, the stability of the realm depends on maintaining strong alliances and relationships with our noble houses. It is therefore necessary for me to send an envoy to Winterfell to reinforce our ties there."

A pause.

"I have decided to send your sister to Winterfell as our representative. She will leave in two days' time."

There is a moment of stunned silence as the rest of the family processes this information. Jace looks over at you, his forehead creasing with confusion. Luke's mouth has dropped open in surprise. Even Joffrey is silent, for once.

Jace protests. Daemon just sits back and watches the drama

He speaks up immediately, his voice filled with concern

"Mother, surely you can't be serious? You're sending our sister all the way to Winterfell? Alone? It's too dangerous!"

Rhaenyra looks at Jace with sympathy but irritation at his protest.

"I understand your concern, my son, but this decision is not up for debate. Your sister is perfectly capable of handling herself and representing our house honorably."

“At least let me go with her“

"No, Jace. I cannot spare you here, I need you by my side. One dragon in the open is enough and the greens could spot you” your mother says sternly.

“Mother you can’t just-”

Joffrey cries and Luke tries to comfort him. He doesn’t like the arguing and yelling

“It is done Jacaerys. You will argue no more about this!”

You quickly excuse yourself from the table, hurrying to your chambers.

Jace looks like he wants to say something, but Rhaenyra gives him a warning glance, and he reluctantly stays silent

As you head back to your chambers, you can hear the murmurs of the rest of the family resume, their low voices discussing the announcement Rhaenyra made. As you begin to pack your things, there's a soft knock on your door

“Enter”

Jace enters the room, closing the door behind him. He stands awkwardly for a moment, his hands fidgeting at his sides. Finally, he takes a deep breath and speaks, his voice filled with concern

"Are you really okay with this, going to Winterfell and seeing...him again?"

“I…have to” your back is turn from him as you put your clothing into leather bags

His expression softens and he moves closer to you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder* "I know, but that doesn't make it any easier. I don't want you to get hurt, especially not by him."

“You need not worry Jace, I will be fine.” You already know that’s a lie. And he does too. But saying it out loud makes it feel true.

"You can say that all you want, but that doesn't make it any less worrying. I know how much he meant to you before."

“I am not going there to pursue him, I am going there to gain the North as an ally for our house.”

Jace nods, his expression serious once more

"I know that's the purpose of the mission, but you can't deny that seeing him again will be hard for you. You have feelings for him."

“What are you saying Jace.”

Jace sighs and runs a hand through his hair, glancing at you with concern "I'm saying that you're fooling yourself if you think going to Winterfell and seeing Cregan Stark isn't going to stir up feelings you thought you had buried."

“So what if it does…It’s not like I’m going to act on them.” You’re just going to do what is asked of you and leave. Nothing more.

"You say that now, but what happens if he wants to revisit the past with you? What if he wants to rekindle what you had between you?"

You let out a huff of frustration. “Just stop Jace. You don’t know anything anyways…”

He takes a step back, his expression hurt, almost. "What do I know? I know that you've been in love with Cregan Stark since you were children, and I know how much it hurt you when he left and you still haven’t gotten over it!”

You turn and look at him in disbelief that he would mention the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid. “Just go…Leave!”

Jace's expression softens at your harsh tone, and he takes another step back, swallowing thickly. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it again, his eyes flicking to the ground before back up to you.

“Fine.”

He shuts the door with force.

You stand alone in your room, the silence heavy and oppressive without Jace's presence. You feel your emotions welling up inside of you, a mixture of anger and sadness and frustration at Jace's words. But deep down, you can't shake the feeling that you know he’s right.

*****

For the next two days you stay in your room, packing and pondering until the night it’s time to leave.

The atmosphere in the castle is tense, the realization of your imminent departure hanging heavy in the air. Rhaenyra and the rest of the family have gathered to see you off.

Rhaenyra stands next to Silverwing, watching you with a mixture of sadness and pride. The dragon emits a low, melancholic whine, as if sensing the gravity of the situation. The boys and daemon stand on either side of Rhaenyra, their faces stoic but anxious.

“I will see you in few weeks time.”

Rhaenyra nods, her expression solemn. She steps forward and hugs you tightly, pulling you to her chest. The hug is firm and possessive, conveying a mixture of love and protectiveness.

"Be safe, my love. I will count every day until your return."

You step aside to hug Jace. He returns your hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. He holds you close for a moment, his chin resting on the top of your head. When he pulls back, his expression is still serious, and he mutters quietly.

"Be careful, alright? Don't do anything stupid."

“No promises…”

Jace gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to allow Luke to say his goodbyes. Luke hugs you tightly, burying his face into your shoulder. When he pulls back, he's fighting back tears, his voice wavering when he speaks

"I don't want you to go."

Joffrey then hugs at your waist, teary eyed, his aebottom lip trembling.

"Please don't go, please...I want you to stay."

Joffrey buries his face into your stomach, his small hands tugging at your dress. Luke places a hand on Joffrey's shoulder, trying to soothe his younger brother's distress. He looks at you helplessly, his own eyes glassy with tears

“Hush sweetlings…I wont be gone forever” You kiss their cheeks and tops of their heads

"You'll come back, right? You promise?"

“I promise.”

Joffrey and Luke both look up at you, their eyes wide and pleading, searching your face for assurance. Rhaenyra steps forward, her hand resting on each of their shoulders.

"Your sister will be back before you know it, and she'll come back with a great success for our house."

Even Jace tears up a bit but rolls his eyes, trying to play it off.

"I'm not tearing up. I just got something in my eye, that's all." He rubs at his eye, trying to cover up the fact that he is, in fact, on the verge of crying.

Then comes Daemond with a large, tight hug, practically suffocating you.

“Alright alright I love you too” you struggle with a strained voice and he finally lets go

“Just come back in one piece.”

“You know I will” you playfully push his shoulder.

You tie your bags to Silverwing and mount her saddle, blowing air kisses as you lead silver wing out of the den and out into the dark of the night.

The entire family watches as you and Silverwing take flight, the dragon's wings beating strongly as you soar into the black sky.

A sense of melancholy hangs in the air, the weight of your absence already palpable among those left behind. Rhaenyra's expression is solemn as she watches you disappear into the distance, a silent prayer on her lips for your safe return.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoyed and forgive me for the delay. AP clases are NOT for the weak 😭 part 2 will definitely be out within the next few weeks tho. Let me cook.

PS. The plot is a bit different from the teaser. Please don’t be mad at me🙏🏾

@beebeechaos @iv-vee @aemondwhoresworld @obscure-beauty @6ternalsun @msmarvelknight @melsunshine @cregansfourthwife

[silverwingxox]

A Hidden Challenge - Cregan Stark

Pairing : Cregan Stark x Velaryon!Reader x mentions of Aegon Targaryen

Warnings : Targcest, talks of arranged marriages.

Summary : You fly North to Winterfell and meet Cregan Stark, the young wolf your mother wishes for you to marry, but not without a challenge.

Author's Note : Silverwing girly, I don't know wether to make this a series or not, idk.

“I need you to fly North as an envoy, not a warrior.” your mother Rhaenyra said softly, a scroll in her hands. You looked out to sea, your dragon Silverwing flying in the open air with your brother’s dragon, Vermax. “I will send Jace to the Eyrie and Luke to Storm’s End.” your mother continued. Looking towards the rightful Queen, you gave a nod of your head, the sea breeze blowing strands of your brown hair into your face. 

“Silverwing has been North before, she’ll fare the best.” you agree with your mother, holding your hand out to take the sealed scroll. Rhaenyra brought her soft hands to your face, running her thumbs over your cheeks gently, as though trying to remember each one of your features, this only lasts a few seconds before she pulls you into a tight embrace and presses a motherly kiss upon your crown. 

“(Y/N)...you are my heir, it is only right you should know what I have written to Lord Stark.” The Rightful Queen states, pulling away a little, to look into your (e/c) eyes. Confusion takes over your features as you look up to your mother. “I know I have always said I wish for you to marry a man of your own choosing. But with this war on the horizon, I fear I can no longer allow you that freedom.” Rhaenyra states, her eyes softening as she watches your face fall.  

You had no desire to marry, not for a long time. You had wished to marry for love, not convenience. However, you were heir to the Iron Throne so you knew there would be a chance of you entering a political marriage, you remember crying to your mother about it once your uncle Aemond decided to tease you, scare you in fact, of stories of what men do to their wives. Especially wives who aren’t of their own choosing. How brutal they can be when it comes to creating an heir, how they whore around just trying to escape their wives. It was that night your mother promised you she would have you marry for love, not convenience. 

“Yes mother.” You said obediently, the scroll suddenly feeling heavy in your grasp. Rhaenyra took your hands in hers and looked at you lovingly. “Cregan Stark is closer to your age than mine, he is said to be as loyal as they come and I’ve heard rumors of his dashing good looks.” Your mother said the last point, trying to cheer you up as much as she could. 

“Whatever my Queen commands.” You say monotone, you didn’t mean to take such a short tone with your mother, you wanted to apologize and hug her tight but all you could think about was the man you left back in King's Landing, the man you could no longer love, the man who sat upon your mother’s throne. 

“(Y/N) I-” Rhaenyra tried, she didn’t want to part on bad terms. Anything could happen until the next time she lays her eyes upon you. You put the scroll in the pocket of your riding trousers, and begin to fiddle with the silver knot ring on your index finger. Your beloved ring your Uncle Aegon had given you on your last name day. 

“I best go, It’s a long journey and I need to prepare Silverwing.” As if hearing your conversation with your mother, your beloved dragon turned her body with a loud roar and made her way towards the dragon pit. As you turned your body to leave, your mother grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you into her chest.  “You are my eldest child and my only daughter, promise me you will be safe. Be vigilant. I love you.” hearing your mother’s words, you couldn’t resist any longer. You wrapped your arms around your mother’s waist and squeezed your eyes shut.

“I love you mother.” With one last kiss upon your temple from Rhaenyra, you turn from your mother and head toward your chambers to pack some of your belongings. 

The journey to Winterfell was a long and cold one, you made a mental note to thank Baela when you next see her for reminding you to pack warm. Holding onto your saddle, with one hand, you lean forward and give Silverwing a good few pats. “Māzigon va hāedar” (Come on girl.) you encourage your beloved companion. The high valyrian rolling of your tongue naturally. As Winterfell came into view, you bit your lip looking for a place to land. “Tegon Silverwing.” (Land Silverwing.) Following your command, the majestic dragon scans the white covered land and makes her descend, just outside the castle gates. 

“DRAGON!” smiling to yourself you can’t help the little laugh that escapes your mouth from hearing the panicked shouting and seeing people flea around the courtyard. Silverwing huffs, as though the Northern folk are just over reacting. Once Silverwing had come to a stop, she lowered herself down to the ground, making it easier for you to climb from her back. As you walked towards the gates guarding the castle, your eyes scanned the people coming towards you slowly, all following behind a man who you could only assume was Cregan Stark. Seeing the group of men walking towards you, Silverwing let out a warning roar, making the Northern men halt in their advance. 

“Gīda Silverwing.” (Calm Silverwing.) Your eyes lock with the stormy gray eyes of Lord Stark, you take in his appearance, from his brown hair falling into his handsome face, his broad shoulders, his ancestral sword sat on his back. He was tall, and you hated to admit your mother was right, but he was in fact good looking. You lifted your head, a teasing glint in your eyes as you silently challenged Cregan to walk towards you. 

Unbeknown to you, Cregan Stark was stunned from seeing a dragon outside his castle gates, but shockingly it wasn’t the giant beast that had him at a stand still, it was you. Princess (Y/N) Velaryon. It would seem your mother’s title had been passed down to you, as you were in fact The Realm’s Delight in his eyes. He had never seen a woman so breathtakingly beautiful before, his eyes trailed down your body before returning to look upon your face, not caring that you had caught him shamelessly admiring your body. 

“Princess, It is an honor. Winterfell is at your mercy.” Cregan spoke loudly to you in formality, still a bit of distance between you. “We weren’t expecting you to travel North so soon.” The young lord spoke once more as he walked towards you, despite the uncertain looks from his men and the warning look coming from your dragon. 

“Lord Stark, I have a letter from the Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen.” You spoke confidently, as you pulled the scroll from your pocket, you held out your hand, not moving an inch. Silently daring Cregan to come within touching distance of Silverwing. Cregan smirked at you  as he slowly walked closer towards you and your fire breathing dragon. Silverwing let out a low rumble causing Cregan to halt for a few seconds before he continued in his pursuit. He knew you wouldn’t let your dragon kill him, your mother needed his support and his men, but he still decided to play into your hands. 

As Cregan came to stand in front of you, it was then you noticed the height difference, he was at least a head if not two heads taller than you, having always been a bit on the smaller side, yet another thing your uncle Aemond would tease you about. Cregan bowed his head in respect before taking the scroll from your outstretched hand. 

The young wolf opened the scroll in front of you, his stormy eyes scanning the message written in ink. His eyes met yours as he gave a slight nod of his head, looking behind you at your dragon, Cregan held out his hand for you to take. “Let us discuss this over food and drink.” Slipping your soft hand in his rough larger one, you followed the young lord through the iron gates. 

“Get a few sheep for the Princesses dragon, it has been a long journey for them.” Cregan commands one of his men, as he leads the way to the castle entrance. The man who had received the command looked at the beast with a gulp, suddenly feeling faint, Silverwing shook her head at the pale looking man knowing she wasn’t getting her meal anytime soon.

[fogaminghub]

✨ Infinity Nikki: Complete Guide to Unlocking the Wish Gathering Quest! ✨ 

Ready to explore the enchanting land of Florawish? Discover how to embark on the Wish Gathering quest with our step-by-step guide! Gather clues, meet interesting characters, and uncover the mysteries of the Wish Envoy. 🌈 Don’t miss out on those amazing rewards! 

[starogeorgina]

𝐔𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧

Paring: Aemond Targaryen × Targaryen reader, minor Daemon Targaryen × Targaryen reader

Warnings: Swearing, kidnapping, self harm

1.03

“Shh, shh,” you try to gently rock Daenys to sleep. “Please, calm down, sweet girl.”

Your daughter was brought to you in the early hours since she woke up fussy and wouldn’t latch onto the wet nurse. Luckily, she fed from your breast without issue, but your silver-haired baby was still unhappy and crying. From the flush in Daeny's cheeks and the redness in her gums, you suspect she has started teething.

“Princess,” one of the handmaids approaches you while nervously pulling on the sleeve of her dress. You often wonder how the servants who followed Rhaenyra to Dragonstone felt watching the way their beloved princess was treated. “The maester wishes to speak with you as a matter of urgency. There is a wet nurse in the room down the hall; would you like me to take Daenys to her while you dress?”

Reluctantly, you nod and hand your daughter over to the younger woman. As soon as you’re left alone, you bring the faded nightgown over your head and redress yourself, choosing to put on the light grey gown you were wearing the night you were taken. It was made to accommodate the swell of your stomach, and now the extra fabric hung loose down the front. You had others to choose from, but it was one of the only items you had that was truly yours.

In every passing moon, the maester would examine you for any sign of pregnancy, which was humiliating, so you’d at least attempt to try and maintain a shred of dignity. You comb your hair with your fingers and try to straighten out the creases on your dress. Just as you finish adjusting yourself, the door to the room opens, and the maester, followed by a handmaiden, enters.

—

You were cursed by the ghosts of your father's blindness and your mother's lies. Your mother claimed that before King Viserys died, he declared he wanted Aegon on the throne, and all the men who deemed a woman unfit to rule believed her. Your father turned a blind eye to your family's scheming for years, and now the future of the realm would be full of war, murder, and misery.

As you dig your nails into the palm of your hand to stop yourself from screaming, blaming your parents for this situation was an easy option. If the throne wasn’t usurped, then envoys would never have been sent; Lucerys would still be alive, as would Jaehaerys, and you and your daughter would be safe in Aemond’s arms.

And if your father had been stronger-willed, none of it would have happened.

Being so caught up in your own thoughts, you don’t notice Prince Daemon entering the room. It’s not until you feel his presence beside you that you finally address him, “What is it?”

“A raven arrived from the red keep; one of my little spies has informed Criston Cole and your cunt of a husband that we have taken you north.”

No, no, no.

“They are currently gathering the green forces and will leave in a couple of days. Which means the false king won’t have that hoary old bitch, Vhagar, to hide behind. With only Sunfyre on his side, we can easily take the city back with the mere threat of Caraxes, Syrax, Vermax, Moondancer, and Tyraxes.”

“Need I remind you, uncle, which side my dragon is on?”

Gripping your jaw tightly, Daemon shoved you against the wall. “Need I remind you, niece, that you’re nothing more than a prisoner? I’ve spared your daughter's life, something the fucking kinslayer didn’t do for Luccerys.”

You slap his hand away and say, “You’ve got what you wanted; you're getting another child. Do not fucking touch me again.”

Daemon places both hands firmly on the wall beside your head, caging you in. His eyes flickered over you; he didn’t quite believe what you just said. “The maester confirmed this?”

“I haven’t bled in two moons; the maester is convinced my stomach will swell again soon.” Sarcastically, you add, “Congratulations; I hope you're as excited as I am.”

—

After speaking with the maester himself, Daemon kept his original promise and had you move to a larger, more comfortable bedchamber with crimson colors and dragon decor, and soon a crib would be brought in and your daughter would join you. All you cared about was keeping Daenys close.

You feel the lavish oils soothing the ache in your shoulders when one of the handmaidens rubs them onto your skin. This was the first time in many moons you had bathed properly, and the luxury of having a clean body, hair, and clothing wasn’t something you’d take for granted again.

“My Prince,” the handmaiden nods her head at him, then attempts to cover you up with a towel, causing your uncle to chuckle.

“It’s considered bad manners to interrupt a lady while she’s bathing.”

“It’s nothing new," he says as he stands at the bottom of the tub, showing no attempt to advertise his gaze from your bare breasts. “Perhaps I wanted to join you in bathing.”

“I’d rather you drowned me.“

Daemon smirks, “Leave us.”

The handmaiden gives you an apologetic look, then leaves. No matter how many times Daemon spilled his seed inside you, the reality of carrying his child never felt real until now. You’d already suffered on the birthing bed out of duty; now you’d be doing it again to keep Daenys safe. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you taste the salty tears on your lips. “What happens if this pregnancy doesn’t end well?”

“What do you mean?”

“I had two other daughters once; both of them died.”

Daemon comes to the side of the tub and crouches down so he’s eye level with you. “I wasn’t aware.”

Red blotches appear on your chest and neck as you struggle to stop your voice from cracking. “The first girl's name was Anya; she came early after three days of labor.”

Your mother had remained by your side throughout your labor, and the look of horror on her face when she saw the ‘thing’ you delivered would be forever etched in your mind. Anya’s skin was covered in small scars that looked similar to dragon scales. But no matter how monstrous she may have appeared to others, you thought she was beautiful. Against the maesters advice, Aemond visited you before the silent sisters had come to take the baby, and it was the first time since the night he lost his eyes that you’d seen him cry.

“I gave birth to Rhaella the following year; she was born at the end of the fall but was taken by the winter fever.“

The expression on Daemon’s face was hard to read; he himself knew of the pain you and Aemond have suffered from losing a baby. And you could only begin to imagine the grief and suffering the blacks felt after Lucery's death. “And news of this never reached Dragonstone?”

Your eyes sting from crying. “Our family has always been divided; who would have told you?”

“My brother.”

“Ha,” you scoff. “You saw what my father was like in the end. He had consumed so much milk from the poppy that he became oblivious to everything around him; the only person he ever wished to speak with was Rhaenyra.”

Frowning, he skims his finger over the water.

“I feared I would never again bear a living child, but the gods blessed me with Daenys. But I shall ask again, uncle, What will happen if this pregnancy doesn’t end well?”

“You do not want to find out, niece.”

[controld3vil]

𝗖𝗥𝗬𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗖𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗟𝗘 (II)

𝘀𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗹 𝘁𝗼 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗠

pairing(s): jacaerys velaryon x targ!reader, aemond "one eye" targaryen x targ!reader (you are daemon and laena's firstborn)

synopsis: You arrive at Harrenhal seeking to reconcile with your father, only to find his disastrous decisions have caused chaos. The grief over your grandmother’s death casts a dark shadow, making any prospect of recovery seem bleak.

notes: daemon fr had to face some of his demons at riverrun lol. but on a side note, be aware this is much more story dense. cw: daemon being a bad dad:(

Daemon awoke to the dawn’s harsh light, his dreams of uniting the fractured memories already unraveling in the cold grip of reality. His morning was not one of renewal but of stark reminders: the promises broken, the alliances fraying, and the ever-looming threat of rebellion. As he stared out over the restless waters, the weight of his failures pressed down upon him, each wave taunting the unity he still sought but had yet to achieve.

His days became numbered and restless very quickly. The Rogue Prince’s patience falters as he stomps down Harrenhal’s halls, they are looming with light and motionless calmness. Dark Sister is strung by his side, clinging to his belt and waist. When will it end? What could possibly make his day any worse?

“Dragon!”

A distant envoy’s screech. Oh, he’s heard. Anyone who dared to come to Harrenhal would know of his prowess simply because Caraxes await them. No matter foe or friend, Daemon grips his Valyrian blade tightly before turning toward the Weirwood tree. Caraxes usually resided near the old tree, it was wide and unbound by anywhere else in the castle. Undoubtedly, he would sense his rider’s stride, gradually becoming anticipated hungry for battle.

Despite his commanding presence, he is stopped by a small servant who wobbles his feet uneasily. My prince! They holler when he does not mean to halt, ignoring the random babbles from the man’s mouth. “Lord Simon Strong requests your presence!” A feverish shiver as the servant trembles under the gaze of Daemon. King Consort to Queen Rhaenyra. Yet here, alone with his dragon, he should be considered King. 

“It seems we have company though,” The silver-haired swordsman blatantly takes no notice of the servant’s distress. It would be the least of Simon Strong’s problems if Daemon would deal with the unannounced dragon rider. But the castellan had a knack for appearing at the most inopportune moments. Should he leave now to deal with the foreign enemy, he wouldn’t have to meet with Lord Strong at all. The Rogue Prince had magnifying eyes. His lavender orbs pierced the man with intensity and undeclared rage. It felt suffocating to be looked under as the servant could only muster a feeble plea, hands scrambling together to keep his calm. 

“It- It is your daughter who was seen!” Your name was pronounced, oddly by the man’s tongue. It is you who he wishes for to soothe Daemon’s grievances. In response, the possible emergence of the prince’s benevolence could perspire. Still, it was unlikely that King Viserys' brother would abide simply because of his king's presence. For his daughter, the man could only anticipate so. “Her dragon resides on the other side of the Keep! And she wishes for an audience with you and Lord Strong…” 

Wonderful.

Perhaps, in the absence of the Black Council, he has grown irritated and longing for a sense of direction. He lacks it here clearly. No Riverlord would consider his commands even if they were put down to be eaten by Caraxes. This was how stubborn Southerners were. They are adamant to follow the old ways, never embracing the new. In turn, they’ve become grumpy old men and women.

You sure made a grand entrance which terrified most of the people in the castle. Daemon can only assume you came under Rhaenyra’s obligation. Why else? It has been days since he left Dragonstone without a word or raven. The Council must’ve spiraled into madness without their most skilled warrior by their table. A permanent scowl was on his face as Daemon treaded heavily to the Grand hall. His mind is blinded with thoughts, as his judgment deters. The swift clatter of the double doors being pushed and bouncing as they close is unmistakable.

An unpleasant frown was on the face of Daemon as he entered unprecedentedly. “What are you doing here?” You did not move from your position, bizarrely calm, and in doing so sat on the edge of one of the chairs accompanied by Lord Strong. The castellan himself is seated beside you, with his usual robes and heavy garments. Pure vexation was what you heard from Daemon’s accent. Whether it was directed at you or Lord Strong, both of you felt the underlying intensity a man of the Rogue prince’s caliber can do. 

You rise, with a grim expression. “I came here to help you,” Now Daemon sees it. Your expression was hardened by the stoic frown and concentrated stare. It was like staring into the eyes of a viper. Alluring and dangerous as it was, Daemon rarely witnessed this side of you. It is plain how distinct you are from your sisters, Baela and Rhaena. You were all of the blood of the dragon, yet it was your heart and soul that resembled the Rogue Prince’s ambitious nature. 

“Harrenhal has been handled,” He scoffs, advancing in the manner reminiscent of an irritated cat. The rhythm of his steps was concise and slow like he would approach a troubled animal.  

“Then why has it taken you so long to return home?” You snap, and the lines of your disappointed pout are apparent now. Indeed was the harsh blaze of daylight that hit your face perfectly. It accentuates your bright-hued view, fondly. Knowing the gods, they have blessed you with a burning spirit and charm. Your coin has flipped long ago. And Daemon sees for the first time what will become of your destiny. “Have you not heard? Rhaenys died at the battle of Rook’s Rest against Cole’s army!”

Daemon believes you would become mad if you hadn’t left Dragonstone. Grasping your inherent qualities, a death such as Rhaenys would devastate you. And it has, for how much time has passed since the Battle of Rook’s Rest he had no idea, but confirmed that you came here out of your own volition. What you intend to do is something he hasn’t foreseen yet. 

A deafening silence passes when your father says nothing in response to your anger. But then he says, “She did what had to be done.” A soft-spoken retribution on Daemon’s part. His gaze follows your shallow breath when you sniffle laboriously. A prominent shine is transparent on top of your eyes. You did your best to stay restrained in front of your father. Your appearance brought bitter news along with an imprinted image of his daughter’s unfortunate disintegration. 

Seemingly his words struck a chord in you. “And what have you done?” Sneering, you disregard the ache in your chest to pursue your father further of his drawn-out disappearance. More than ever, you needed him. You needed Daemon, your father there to comfort you. Especially then when victory is forfeited in the worst-case scenario. You weren’t there. And you felt even more compelled to define every mistake he has made. The murder, the destruction, and the divide. “Nothing!”

“Mind your tongue,” He snaps when Daemon is suddenly provoked by your words of spite. 

Your head shifts, intimidatingly. “No! Because while you ransacked innocents with the Southern lords, Rhaenys fled and defended a lord at our council!” You clenched your fisted hands, restraining your further temper. “It’s barbaric.”

“Well we need to be ruthless to win a war, don’t we?” Daemon guffs, his hand landing in the familiar space where his Vaylrian blade was. It was his way to warn you. To dominate and show you he is superior despite your lineage. “You are a child. What do you know of war? I presume nothing because your actions have demonstrated ignorance and naivety.” 

“I’m not a child!”

“Yes, you are!” Your father authoritatively steps forward and merely breathes away from your own. “You are naive and weak like one! You lash out when you see fit and choose to lament when the lords have something else to give you!” Word by word, and piece by piece, you can feel your heart shatter. You’re silent, unable to mumble another word to your father, afraid and rectified by his brutal dispute. You are young but the blood of the dragon ran thick. You were just like your father when he wanted to please and grab his brother’s attention. You were desperate to find the comforts of him yet found yourself left abandoned and cast off. 

The tears you had been holding were free now. An overwhelming amount flooded your vision as you dared not to turn away from your father’s relentless gaze. Even though he knew, his words were harsh and sharp. Under further silence, Daemon notices the tremble of your lips and puffed cheeks. His heart crumbles with guilt but he does not so much as return an apologetic gesture. 

Perhaps in your distorted view, you did catch his slight hesitation. Nevertheless, you paid no heed and dashed out of the room before the guards could open the doors. The absence of your presence left a regretful mark on Daemon’s chest as he dismissed Lord Strong’s pleas entirely.

And not far from the Weirwood, a sound resembling Sheepstealer’s cry can be heard.

No defiance was left unchecked in your family. You figured this out long before you left Pentos with a heavy heart. When your mother was alive, she and your father were avid parents. Happy and easily pleased with their three daughters. You could not remember when your relationship faltered as badly as now. Disobedience was something foreign as the consequence of your peaceful time in the East. On the contrary, you were more distant with your sisters and father than ever before. You spoke less as the days passed. Barely offering a fleeting look of solace, that not even your father could reassure. 

For the rest of your time, you became oddly acquitted with Lord Strong and his men. He was a timid character but all of most, welcoming of your presence and cooperation. Much contrast to the Rogue Prince, you were at least willing to seek out the other lords of the River lands and speak on reasonable terms. 

“I do appreciate your service, Princess,” The castellan meekly grins as the two of you stroll in unison to the ancient Weirwood tree. A magnificent monument and staple of the castle of Harrenhal you had heard. For generations, the tree had spouted its roots deeply into the defiled castle like a parasite, relying on its nutrients to stay alive. You acknowledged how important the old ways were with the old folk and Southern houses. It was their way of living and for many was what they relied on during these times of turmoil. “Much was needed after your father’s arrival, I’m afraid. I wasn’t sure if sending a raven to the Queen would’ve been necessary.”

A grim sigh escaped your breath. “I’m glad to be of service, Lord Strong. I’m sure after today, we can put all this behind us.” A passive promise, as you weren’t sure if the River Houses would be willing to listen to you. Surely the daughter of the King consort’s would bring attention to some. However, Daemon’s actions as of late became a domino effect in causing distrust and provocation with the lords. 

“I do hope so,” Lord Strong’s feeble words meant nothing to you. The eerie entrance of the garden itself was dreary and dry. Dead leaves scattered all across the floors. Empty and broken carts of nothing were laid to be disregarded. And in the far center, was the Weirwood tree, standing tall and glum. It was the most spectacular sight you had seen since arriving at Harrenhal. Its luscious red leaves were full of life and blood. The many faces on the tree, each resembling a different person with a different story. Out of everything, it was the only thing that gave you security and clarity.

The Weirwood tree itself was essential to many people of Westeros. Whether they worshiped the old gods or new, it stood as a staple, to allow empathy for those who know they are watching. And you knew the gods were watching you. 

In front of the majestic timber, was a young boy. Most likely close to the age of Lucerys if you had imagined. He was a meek and wide-eyed little thing. Wearing the sigil of House Tully, he carried those prominent features a Tully should have. Red curly hair and honest blue eyes. 

“Princess,” The boy welcomes, stepping forward, timidly. He utters your name in respect and soft admiration. “Welcome to the Riverlands, I am Oscar Tully, heir and lord of House Tully.”

You halt before glancing behind at Lord Strong with a soothing nod. The castellan takes it valiantly, returning with a tender smile. He returns to close the doors before walking back inside the castle. Both you and the Tully boy stood alone outside with the winds and distant tides now. 

“The pleasure is mine, Lord Tully,” You say, attempting your best to appeal more invitingly. More pleasant and sincere at his hospitality. The strained guilt you feel for the destruction constructed by Daemon makes your chest heave heavily. It was not your doing but you regardless were remorseful for the chaos the Southerners must have endured. “Never in my lifetime was I blessed to visit the River lands. And now that I’m here, it’s obvious that Harrenhal was never my first choice.”

The boy laughs. “Yes, well Harrenhal certainly has that kind of reputation,” Oscar smiles cheekily as though relieved and infatuated at your calmer personality and aid. He was ignorant to believe you would be like your father. Of course, the resemblance was uncanny. However luckily, you did not pout and have a commanding tone with your words. Rather you were calm and docile like a majestic wolf from the North. Oscar cannot seem to pinpoint it but there is a magnetic ease he feels when you gaze at him with your keen eyes. “But on other matters, I hope you’re aware of the certain situations with the Riverland army?”

“Of course,” An exaggerated groan as you crossed your hands behind your back to cruise around the abandoned garden. The leather black boots you wore gave you easy access away from the mud and dirt. You neared closer to the heir of House Tully. “Has my father considered instating the terms you have given to him?”

Knowing Daemon, an apology was out of the question. He was a man of action. The Rogue Prince demonstrated as much when he burned some of the Bracken men for not bending their knees. The least he can do is force his hand and then have to negotiate with them with reasonable terms. Though your father has always been a difficult man. 

A delayed cough comes from the boy. “I’m not afraid not, Princess.” Almost as if afraid of how you might react to his failed attempts. There was no reason to be scared yet it was an accidental reflex on his part to estimate the Princess of Dragonstone. 

“Then what are your terms?” Your attention was entirely on the Weirwood tree. You see the leaking red blood dripping from the many faces and you can feel the nervous energy from the boy. “I’ll agree to them as long as you accept and do your part to assemble the lords of the River lands.” 

Oscar looks at you, startled. “I- Our terms… Well then I suppose justice.” You meet his sapphire blue one, as captivating and electric as your deep indigo pools. Much resembling the night sky. “Your father has condemned one of the lords to treason and outright murder. I believe as a Southerner, a follower of the old ways, that he should stand for his crimes.” A courageous feat on his part which you could not help but respect. A boy as young as he is now holds the responsibility of many Houses. They all look to House Tully for guidance and Oscar is now their precedent ruler. 

“Then that is done,” You shrugged with a nonchalant pout. Simply one man to face his crimes was enough to receive the largest army. Then you should have it. It was something Daemon would most likely not accommodate. His bowing and agreeing on someone’s terms was not his style. He needed to have something more out of the bargain. Still, you’ve grown restless of your father and needed the army urgently. “See that Lord Blackwood be executed here by the Weirwood tree when all of the lords are present. Should they be convinced we do not tolerate murder and anarchy, they can be a witness of the beheading.” You shake your head, with a smile. 

The Tully boy feels a chill run down his spine. "I appreciate how accommodating you've been given our situation, Princess." He feels flustered but at the same time, relieved. He did not expect this was how your conversation would pan out. But he was pleasantly surprised and would honorably accept your terms. He would only hope now that your father could comply and that you would persuade him on the matter. 

With a brief nod, your fixed stare turns to Oscar’s House sigil. He wears it proudly on his chest, carved out of leather, an imprint of a trout, jumping out of the water. “Tully's honor their promises, so I only ask you to do the same.” 

He stands there, looking in awe at you. He doesn’t so much as return with a stutter, as if not catching you the first time. His delayed response makes Oscar regain himself and clear his throat. “Please forgive me, Princess, but you are not what I had anticipated from the daughter of the Rogue Prince and King Consort to the Queen..."

Unexpectedly, you chuckled, much to the Riverland Lord’s expectation. Gods, why were you so unpredictable? Not to mention, your laughter was rather magnetic to listen to. How could he resist a princess such as yourself, who rides the wild dragon, Sheepstealer, and has a father as one of the most pronounced fighters alive?

House Targaryen in its history had many beautiful women and men over the years of their reign as Rulers of Westeros. They were known for their profound and striking qualities, signaling out any other candidate for beauty charm. You embody it wholly, with the way you stand and present yourself. You’re courageous and strong-willed, admirable talents anyone should have. For Oscar Tully, it fascinates him. 

“Then what do you think I would be like?” You’re intrigued, giving a sly smile when you beam at his shy and embarrassed state. It had been some time since you felt this giddy. Since Lucerys death, your family has dealt with another grief. Then came the death of King Viserys which shifted entirely your lives to madness. You never did have enough time to grieve. Even for your mother, you considered it now, no one would let you rest and had always expected you to be fine with things.

Maybe that was the reason why you refused to visit Dragonstone many times before. When Rhaenyra married Daemon, you were obligated to live in the ancient Targaryen home with them. Even though you complied, you never stayed long, always finding ways to be on Driftmark with your sister and grandparents. It was a way to distract your mind and soul. You did not want to be in the same room as Daemon. So perhaps Corlys and Rhaenys truly felt more like your parents. 

Oscar looks at the tips of his feet, unable to meet your penetrating periwinkle gaze. “I don’t know. I- I thought you would be more aligned with your father.” He raises his tone slightly on the last part, unsure if his words meant offense to you. “And I apologize, I mean no offense!”

“And you’re not wrong to believe so,” Your tone teased, indifferent to how you glanced at him, endearing and eternal much like a sapphire, cherished by the island of Tarth.

Jacaerys was worried for you. He could not understand why you would be so reckless to leave Dragonstone with Sheepstealer. There was war! For all he knew, you could’ve already been killed airborne alongside your wild dragon. But he digresses, the Prince of Dragonstone should not underestimate your worth as a dragon rider and aggressive nature. You were careless but knew how to ride a Sheepstealer well, everyone else couldn’t. 

Regardless, you were his betrothed. The future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms! You should not fly in this condition! He would tell you if you had been still present and he berated you around the castle like an annoying servant. He would have it, Jacaerys could not stand not knowing of your well-being. News from Harrenhal? No raven has been flown there since Daemon’s disappearance. You were driving him mad and you were not even aware of it! 

The Queen’s son paced around his room, exhausted. Your leave did not surprise his mother, which as expected he should’ve anticipated. You and Daemon. Two born from the same blood and now, he understands what his mother felt when he left for Harrenhal. You do as you please, he supposes. Though most of the time he knew of you, it was ever unlikely for you to be so daring. You were brash but never went as far as abandoning your home. Jacaerys feels a small sort of guilt for not letting you leave. He willingly let you. He isn’t sure if you have some sort of sorcery against him or more so he cannot control you as much as you do to him, but the crowned prince still thinks of you. 

He can still recall the day he and you were renowned as betroths. It was the hearing for the heir of Driftmark. The entire hall was consumed by people and servants. The iron throne sat in the center, all and menacingly. His mother stood by his side while Lucerys and Rhaena were slightly behind. Alongside Daemon who lurked around the crowds, watching everyone. On the other side was Rhaenys Targaryen, the standing figure for Corlys Velaryon. You and Baela were behind her, always so close to each other. Your presence comforted one another as it did to him. 

“It was ever my husband’s decision to pass Driftmark to our son, Laenor, and his son, Lucerys,” Rhaenys confidently speaks in front of the Hand of the King as Otto’s daughter can only frown in silence. While the rest of the crowd stayed awning. “And Princess Rhaenyra had just proposed to her two sons to be wedded to Laena’s daughters,” She motions to you and Baela. And when he catches a glimpse of you, butterflies flutters. As you meet his eye with a cheeky smile. “Which I wholeheartedly agree.”

The looks you gave to one another spoke greater volume than the words from your mouths. Jacaerys understood that yes, you were satisfied with the marriage proposal, And he was as well. You two couldn’t be more relieved and happier. You had always assumed he would marry your cousin, Helaena. However Alicent claimed she was to be married to her older brother, Aegon, you believed the odds of it happening to be more promising. And it has. 

Also across where you stood from the throne, Aemond’s eye catches your elevated expression. Those simple words of your engagement troubled him. So much so that he could feel the vexation that began to build in his chest. It was unlike the second son to feel this emotional towards marriage. He always avoided the subject. But somehow when you became the topic, his mind suddenly scrambled into mush and his attention followed you willingly. 

It was more obvious when dinner came. His cold stare pierced the side of your head as you continued to converse with your sisters. You sat beside Jacaery as promised. It irks Aemond immensely to see you happily and comfortably with his sister’s bastard. It was unfair and unjust. Just how was he considered legitimated as a Targaryen? He had no characteristics of his ancestors, only those of his father. Harwin Strong. The one-eyed prince made sure to make a scene when he decided to toast in front of everyone. 

You were seated, content with a plate of food in front of you. As you listened to him speak for the first time, holding a chalice up to your lips. 

To the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. As his words died down from silence, you knew what was coming. Aemond had constraints but sometimes even he could break. Each of them… handsome… wise… strong. His attention was solely on you now. His one good eye glistened under the candlelight. Its hue is dark and sinister. As if believing you would be ecstatic with his insults. Did he expect you to be pleased? You were not sure, everything afterward was a blur. 

A few punches and tensed stares divided the room apart. Rhaenyra consoled her children while Alicent attempted to get a hold of her sons. The boys, Aemond and Jacaerys did not stand comfortably in the tense environment. The one-eyed prince couldn’t help but feel satisfied with his efforts. At the same time, his nephew tries to refrain from anything else brash. Out of the corner, Daemon appears, effectively separating the two. His calm and contented expression rather irritated Aemond, allowing him to leave without haste. In comparison, Jacaerys contended to his mother’s orders and left the room. You were expected to follow behind your betrothed footsteps.

Despite having other plans.

Under the dark coven of King’s Landing, you whisk away into the shadows. It was like running around in a maze, every corridor you seemed to pass looked similar. You had no clue where you were heading or your intention to go this far away from your chambers. But your cousin’s actions confused you. If you could speak to Aemond, you would dissolve whatever strain he feels under this obligation. 

“Have you no shame?” You voiced, coming into the moonlight’s center. The simple garden of the Weirwood tree where the two of you found each other. It was a comforting place to read poetry or listen to a musician play. You found yourself here too many times now. “It seems like your grievances have gotten the better of you, cousin.”

Aemond hums with a sneer. “Aren’t you bothered by it?”

“Bothered by what?” you retort, your irritation rising at his insolence.

“You’re betrothed,” he says, pausing before adding, “to a bastard.”

“Why should I be?” you snap back, icy and curt. “His mother is a Targaryen and heir to the Iron Throne, so he remains a Targaryen.”

The second son turns, catching your angry expression. It bothers him how fitting you believe having Jacaerys as your betrothed would not bring any consequences. “His blood is not pure.”

“Because his father is not Ser Laenor?” You joust, moving closer to where he was. Close to the roots of the many-faced tree as it stares back at you blankly. “Does it matter? He is still Rhaenyra’s child and your nephew by right and blood.”

“And you don’t think this would affect you? Your future? Your family?” On and on, the one-eyed prince pushes nonsensical questions. You clearly did not understand the faults of marrying a bastard, one so close to the proclaimed heir. It would falter your status. “You should have a better suitor that will elevate your status, not dishonor it.”

“And who could you provide that for me?” A humorless laugh escapes your mouth, grinning like a hysterical maniac. You did not take his words seriously. Even so, you had never looked more magnificent, bathed in the purest light the gods could provide. The maroon gown you wore draped flawlessly over your figure, embodying the combined beauty of the Targaryens and Velaryons. You were the epitome of both beautiful Valyrian lineages. Your curved, sly smile accentuated your playful nature. You beam under his sight because simply he’s enamored by you. Why couldn’t his mother propose him to you? Not with anyone else. You. 

Nothing comes out of the prince’s mouth. He was not sure why. 

His delayed response gave you the chance to speak once more. “It’s just like you said,” you whispered, barely audible from where you stood a few paces away. “I’ll have a husband soon enough.

Jace. When the Weirwood leaves ruffled, you cupped your hands together. You sat in silence for a while before thinking of all the ways to approach him when the time came for you to return to Dragonstone. I had to leave. Yes, staying on Dragonstone felt intolerable. You would only be reminded of Rhaenys remains, how her last moments were of your playful banter of burning the Greens. How did it compare now when her body is underneath rubble along with her mighty Meleys? She was the one who taught you how to fly. Did he know that?

Amid the chaos, your name is hollered out. “Princess of Dragonstone, future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms,” You depart your solemn eyes away from the stormy skies of Harrenhal to the witch that approaches. You recognized her from your lord’s description. “I see you’ve taken a liking to the Godswoods.” 

Alys Rivers remains a mystery to you. She seems to wander the grounds alone much like the owls roaming the halls. She appears with the lords, she’s there with your father. And she is here, alone with you, as the Weirwood tree stands witness. Her black-painted locks are enchanting, and her enigmatic beauty captivates you with curiosity. She was a bastard but if you’ve learned anything coming from your family, it shouldn’t be considered a burden. 

“What do you want?” Your attention bounces back and forth from her to elsewhere, she assumes your thoughts. Your voice was laced with gentle sarcasm and lightheartedness. It seemed to her you too became acquitted with her. You had gotten used to her disappearances and reappearances quicker than your father. 

“I noticed you come here often,” The witch mentions, making you feel spellbound by her words. “A princess who flees from the safety of her home. To reconcile with her father only to be let down by his anguish. Surely she is feeling overwhelmed…” 

She tries to lure you in yet you concur. "Is it wrong to aid my father when he fails to do what he intended?”

“Greed comes in many different ways, Princess,” She perks up, wide-eyed like a nocturnal barn owl. Her stare invites intrigue and bizarre curiosity to those who would allow her to indulge. Yet you felt sort of unease the way she looked at you. As if she could read your mind. 

You allow silence to sit a few seconds longer. With a stoic expression, you state. “Yes, it does.” 

“Mm,” She grins, much like a mischievous cat. "I hope it doesn’t lead you to act recklessly. Gathering the largest army does not ensure you will achieve glory."

At this, you tilt your head to the side. “Do you expect treason from me, Rivers?”

“Oh not at all, Princess,” She exclaims with a touch of sarcasm. “But you should know the lords here aren’t as accommodating as the ones you find at home.” It was as if a mix of mockery and degradation was interwoven into her words. Alys did not seem at all worried about your reaction. It looked as if she was playing you, to get a reaction out of you. "Your fate was sealed long ago; it is clear what the gods have planned for you."

"Whatever the gods intend," you said slowly, your tone dropping to a dangerous whisper, "matters not, for I shall carve my own path." A sudden screech rings out, alarming and shaking the leaves around you. The ancient tree stands solemnly, its crimson leaves fluttering against the storm. Out of the corner of her eye, Alys spots your dragon with scales of mottled green and copper, his disordered appearance piquing her curiosity.

His exotic wings are both powerful and fierce, mirroring your own nature. He grunts and prowls around the Weirwood tree while you maintain a gaze of striking boldness. Dragons surpass mere prophecy, being molded by blood magic and incantations. Many see them as formidable beasts and deities, a notion that terrifies her with its sheer incomprehensibility.

And with that, she cannot tear her eyes away from your beast, caught between terror and awe, her sapphire gaze frozen. As if sensing her fear, Sheepstealer sneers wickedly, revealing his sharp canines.

“The River Lords will be arriving shortly,” You clasped your hands together, “Find my father, will you?”

[soleilapproves]

I wish I could draw my ideas. Currently thinking about pirate!Gojo kidnapping princess reader (reader consented!! There’s no dark content)

Masterlist

-•-

Pirate!Gojo comes across the royal ship and you happen to be on it (princess of your kingdom). You were being shipped off to a neighboring kingdom to be forcefully married to an old ass king.

Gojo is able to take over your ship and finds you in the cabin. He thinks you’re the prettiest person ever but his criminal way of life gets to him and he starts thinking about how much your ransom will cost.

Little does he know that you don’t mind being kidnapped as long as you don’t get married. He sends his envoys to your family’s kingdom and your fiance’s. Now all he had to do was wait for the sweet reward.

In the mean time, he took you with him onboard. He never bothered to tie you up and keep you in a room because you were in the middle of the sea. Plus, if you were to jump off board, no one would know until he received the money so it didnt matter to him.

You started getting along with his crew very well, almost like a mother figure. You’d cook for the runts of the group and you’d look after his best friends if they got sea sick. You even got rid of your old clothes and started wearing whatever extra scraps of clothes his crew had. You’d stitch pretty jackets for them so they wouldn’t get cold steering the boat at night.

He noticed that you were starting to lose your high society vocabulary and you’d curse like you had no limits. He asked you if it was your first time and laughed when you said yes. The rest of the crew jokingly named you the queen of the ship.

During your first raid, he half expected you to side with the enemy but was surprised when you knocked down their captain with your mop and started filling your bag with their stashed gold. That’s when he first fell in love with you.

Flash foward a year later, you had completely lost your accent, you developed sea legs and you were laying in Gojo’s bed. The two of you had finally gotten together after you realized that no one was going to try and take you back. You felt a little sad but mostly liberated because of how suffocating being a princess was.

You were laying in his arms and turned to him with a curious gaze. “Did you ever receive a reply from my family or that old geezer I was supposed marry?”

“Two weeks after I sent the message. Both of them replied saying that one of your sisters married him so I could keep you or kill you.” He said nonchalantly as he stroked your hair. As morbid as it sounded, your heart swelled at the revelation that Gojo wanted you since the beginning. “You were soft for all along.” You giggled.

“Yeah, yeah. You were nice to look at.” He said as he held you tightly. “And I could see that you enjoyed being a criminal.” His thumb stroked your bottom lip.

The two of you shared a kiss, intertwining your hands, each having a matching emerald ring.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

How would platonic yandere king and queen of hearts react to finding out reader saved Alice and is finding a way to go back to their world?

You know what? I'll do you one better! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Yandere Platonic Queen and King of Hearts (2)

“That’s p-perposterous! My darling child is right beside me, happily eating their lunch!”

The King of Hearts protests adamantly as the dorm mouse attempts to inform the King. Having missed the Queen’s charging envoy. You had to give the rodent props. The guts to try and drag your name right in front of your face to what she hoped was both the Queen and King of Hearts. 

To her luck though the Queen was not here so all she received was the King’s peaceful denial of her information. She huffed glaring at you with her beady eyes as though staring would prove her point. Fighting the urge to smirk you instead closed your eyes and continued to eat the meal provided for you. You weren’t really hungry but you doubted your…father would believe you if you were to say it out loud.

That being said you hoped Alice–who hadn’t found a growing cake or drink anywhere—stayed tucked in your pocket. When you were able to sneak to the bathroom to chat they suggested being allowed to run freely which you shot down. How many movies and stories had this exact situation happen where the small companion died or squashed because their giant friend wasn’t there to help. 

Still if you knew Alice best they were likely going to ignore you. Now with the dormmouse watching you couldn’t chance a glance at the pocket near your chest. 

“My child, what’s on your mind? You’ve been acting out of it since you mother’s gone to hunt.”

You cursed yourself internally. You must have spent too long thinking about Alice now you’ve gone an alerted the only one of your ‘new parents’ that tried to understand your emotions. Shaking your head you planned to wave him off. 

“I’m fine…Father I just am nervous.”

“Nervous? About what, my child?”

This was new. Usually at this point in the conversation the Queen of Hearts would have spoken up. Told her husband exactly what she wished you were feeling; as delusional as she was. But she wasn’t here and this was an opportunity. 

“Well as you know me and Alice know each other really well–”

“Yes I believe you did mention that at one point. Go on.”

“So I’m just a little sad that…Mother has decide to hunt them down.”

You watched the man’s bottom lip jut out in an unironic frown, his diamond shaped pupils darting from you to the other side of his face. No doubt, deciding who to please. If his hesitation wasn’t bad enough the dorm mouse decided to squeak up. 

“If I may your majesty the Queen knows best about the perpetrator Alice!”

“Oh yes that’s right!  A great idea young mouse!”

You wished to bring your foot down on the little rat or at the very least deliver a kick to their tiny traitorous little body. If it weren’t for his easy to sway persona he’d be perfect to convince in your quest to save Alice. But since this wasn’t working you’d have to try the other a bit more underhanded but necessary. 

“Well Father there was something else but it’s probably not worth even thinking about.”

You made sure to bat your eyes and look away sorrowfully which only fueled the King’s determination to soothe your ‘aching’ heart. Puffing his chest and holding you close, he was entirely eating this up.

“Tell me, Love! Has someone hurt you?! Something bothering you?!”

“It’s….my body, Father.”

Pretending to be bashful, you held your face in your hands. Hoping to hide your snicker at his flustered expression. Deciding to take him out of his misery you continued. 

“I wish it was .03 centimeters bigger than it is now.”

“Well I think you’re perfect the way you are!”

If he was actually your father and not the husband of a murderous queen, you’d be happy to hear that. But wherever Alice was, she needed this and no amount of comforting comments would be enough. 

“BUT I DON’T!” 

Faking a torrent of tears you folded your arms over your face leaning into the arms of the chair. Really trying to give off the image that you were absolutely devastated. 

“Don’t fret my Love! I have the perfect remedy for this!”

He happily skittered to the kitchen with you in tow, politely asking for the chefs to bring out the drink that could make you grow. The dormmouse, for whatever was still following sending a spiteful glare every now and then restraining you from taking a peek in your pocket. Despite your expectation you were not entirely sure if Alice was still there. But you hoped she was close by if only to sneak back around and get to it. In the meantime you had to improvise.

“Before I do this I’d like to see an example of it…”

“Oh well I shouldn’t try it. The Queen loves the size I’m at now!”

You had to have respect the man had a real loyalty to the queen and even better the rights of a King.

“How about you try it little mouse.”

“E-e-excuse me?”

“Give it a try for your new highness?”

“Ugh fine.”

The King let the mouse climb the table pouring a small amount into the cap of the bottle and sure enough the little mouse took on a few more inches. Technically you could stop here, the King would no doubt leave the bottle out but you figured extra insurance wasn’t too bad.

“What about if I don’t like it when I’m bigger?”

“Though you’d look perfect either way, we do always have some shrinking cake on stand by!” 

Turning around he pulled out the cake from a cupboard, where he naturally sliced a sliver of the cake to give the larger mouse. The mouse let out a squeak the equivalent of a sigh and downed a good amount of the slice. They let out a diminutive squeak when they looked in the reflection of the bottle.

“My King I don’t think this is the right–”

“Oh Father! I now realize you were right all along!” You made sure to speak louder than the mouse. “I am just fine the way I am if I do grow it’ll be because that’s the way I’m mean to be.”

The King clapped, hunging you tight. 

“Good! I’m so glad my child’s so proud of themself! Now let’s enjoy that strawberry cake your mother left for us!”

Escorting you out the kitchen you watched some of the card soldiers begin to chase off the small mouse. Hiding your snicker you went back to focusing on the King who was happily ranting about some plans of his. You weren’t really listening as you felt for a bump in your pocket—unfortunately finding nothing. 

______________________________________________________

“THAT OBNOXIOUS TRAMP!”

The Queen of Hearts’ voice rang out the entire castle, even though you were right beside her you could tell that was the case. You were once again eating a tray of tarts as the Queen raged to you and her husband about the terrible hunt. 

“Oh Darling, mind our child’s ears and why not have another tart?”

Her glare disappeared for a moment accepting the tart her husband held up to her painted mouth—after that it was right back to pacing. Wearing the undersuit of her armor and her makeup running just from being worn all day she still looked as beautiful as a picture. Even with her contorted face making an angry expression, you could see why the King of Hearts still swooned at her attention.

“Even the blood hounds found nothing but outdated scents! I tell you the mealworm has been all over my kingdom!”

“I see dear. Is there anywhere you haven’t checked?”

“NO I’ve checked every inch of the forest, everywhere in the garden, and even that insane Hatter’s party spot.”

“(Y/n) do you know where she may be?”

The question caught you off-guard, making you quickly wipe your mouth of some left over custard on your mouth. Stifling a cough as you down the rest of the tart in your throat you turned to him. 

Trying to hide the horror in your eyes, you asked him,”Why would I know?”

He tilted his head, his ever present smile on his face. His diamond eyes squinted in your direction, he continued. 

“Because she’s your friend isn’t she?”

It was then the weight in your stomach began to turn. Despite his meek behavior and wet-blanket status–next to the Queen–he was still a King. A King happily married to the Queen that was willing to remember the details she didn’t bother to remember. 

Swallowing the hesitation you shrugged it off, “ Well yeah but she doesn’t really tell me where she goes…she’s kind of always been a free spirit.”

You tried to say it nonchalantly aiming for another tart only to find the presence of the Queen far too close to your face. Expecting her to grab onto your chin, you flinched. Instead she let her painted nails graze upon your neck before caressing your cheek.

“(Y/n)-dear she doesn’t sound like a very good friend.”

It was said in a very calm tone, an alarming difference from her screeching before.

It was scary.

“I mean Alice and I have our differences but in the end we’re good friends.”

She continued to keep her hand on your cheek lovingly tracing the sides of your face.

“So you say…the other Wonderlandian’s threatened you for her right?”

…How did she know that?

“What?!” 

She seemed to chuckle at the terror on your face, placing a kiss on your temple. She brought both her hands to your cheeks letting your noses touch as she smiled in your face.

“You don’t think I haven’t been watching my child from the second you came through that door?”

She chuckled at your speechlessness holding your head against her chest, she hummed a little rubbing the top of your head. Hugging your side you felt the encapsulating hug on your opposite side from the King of Hearts who nuzzled his wife’s head.

“Of course we were watching (Y/n), we’ve cared about you since the beginning.”

“And we plan to never ever stop.”

This moment would have been sweet if you hadn’t been going through the catalogue of events that led to you being here. How much had they seen? How much did they already know? Surely they wouldn’t know where Alice was if they were asking…but the threatening? Even Alice didn’t know about that. 

“AAAAGHH! “OH MY DIAMOND!” 

“hELPP—AcK!”

The ground suddenly began to quake and sounds of shouting drew both the King and Queen away from you an to their balcony. You followed taking advantage of their surprise to wiggle between them both.

“Alice?!”

Turning her head in your direction, she waved as if she wasn’t practically the size of the castle. A spear shot from the ground bouncing off her thigh, which she retaliated by stomping on the whole platoon with the thrower. 

“AAALLLICCEEE! Off with her head!” 

The Queen of Heart’s was screeching again, practically calling on all her forces to pour out of the castle in that instant. Alice seemed to stumble from the new onslaught of guards hiking her legs up to avoid them. The quaking of the ground startled everyone forcing the Queen and King to rely on the walls of the castle; they reached for you missing your ducking from. In more worry than anything you ran to the guard rail, prepared to warn her about the cannons they were hauling out. 

“Alice! Watch out!”

She turned to you again face lighting up with an idea of hers. Intentionally stepping on the card guards she made her way closer to the castle–more specifically the balcony. Already catching on, the King shouted for you.

“(Y/n) get away from the railing she’s going to-”

“Woah!” 

Like you’d done before Alice cradled your form in her hands smiling down at you. Barely noticing the fearful ‘cease fire’ the Queen demanded you were carried up high as Alice cradled you against her chest. From the cover of her hands you watched her stick her pierced tongue out at the Queen before beginning to run off the premise of Queen’s castle grounds.

“Hang on tight (Y/n)! We’re going home!” 

At her booming voice you doubted she could hear your cheers. Still a small amount of doubt bothering your joy. 

If the Queen and King wouldn’t let you leave would anyone else?