Frankie X Reader: Hunt, Howl, And Hatch. "All The Doors Are Open 'cause Thr Air Conditioner's Busted."

The Silver Dragon Masterlist

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, Lady of Runestone, was not born of love. Nor passion. Nor even a sense of duty. She was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

But even a child born of such darkness can find her way to the light.

With her mother dead, and father flown across the Narrow Sea with a new wife, the girl is taken in by her Aunt, the Queen Alicent Hightower, to be raised among the little family she has left. There, she finds her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen.

As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. The two spend long nights in the palace library together, studying the histories of both Old Valyria and the First Men, seeking to understand who they are and where they fit in the world.

But finding that place proves more difficult than in the fairy tales they read. The seeds of disaster were laid long before they were born, and as tensions in the family rise, it seems as though their places may begin to diverge.

Will they let themselves be pulled apart as the dragons dance? 

Warnings: Mentions of rape

Chapter 1: The Bronze Bitch's Daughter

Prince Daemon Targaryen has grown tired of his Lady wife, the “Bronze Bitch” Rhea Royce. But he is not so easily rid of her. She survives not only his brutal attack, but his cruel violation of her. Though she remains broken and weak, she endures just long enough to deliver a child: a girl of silver hair and steely eyes.

Chapter 2: The Bench

On Arianwyn’s thirteenth nameday, a grand reception is held in her honor. Though most guests are not in attendance for the Lady of Runestone, but rather the Princess Rhaenyra, who is mere weeks away from giving birth. But Arianwyn does not care, for Aemond is there. And he has a present for her.

Chapter 3: The Book

Though Arianwyn wants nothing more than to devour the book Aemond gifted her, she finds herself tear her mind from Aegon’s taunting words. But as she recalls a difficult conversation with her cousin and lady’s maid from the night before, she decides that perhaps she does not want to be married – ever.

Chapter 4: Rune of Endurance

Over the next few months, the young scholars begin to make their own translations of the Runes of the First Men. However, the lives of a Prince and a Lady are not all leisure. After a harrowing encounter in the Dragonpit, Aemond needs Arianwyn to comfort him.

Chapter 5: The Funeral

As the Targaryen and Velaryon households gather on Driftmark to mourn the late Lady Laena, Arianwyn is anxious about meeting not only her half-sisters, but her father for the very first time.

Chapter 6: Cold Fire

Having been worse than ignored by Daemon at the funeral, Arianwyn finally comes face to face with her father.

Chapter 7: The Beach

After overhearing a conversation between Prince Daemon and Corlys Velaryon at dinner, Aemond recruits Arianwyn to help him achieve a lifelong dream.

Chapter 8: The Tunnel

On their way back from the beach, Aemond and Arianwyn are confronted by their four furious cousins.

Chapter 9: The Decisions of Fathers

Aemond is permanently maimed, Arianwyn wounded. As their family quarrels over how to deal with the aftermath of the fight, all they can do is cling to each other.

Chapter 10: Prayer

Faced with the possibility of their separation, Aemond joins Arianwyn in prayer.

Chapter 11: Dearest Friend

As Arianwyn adapts to her new surroundings, and Aemond heals from his wound, the pair take comfort in the letters they exchange.

Chapter 12: The Girl in the Tower

With the knowledge that she will not soon be released from her father’s control, Arianwyn finds what comforts she can on Dragonstone, and receives a gift from Aemond.

Chapter 13: The Sapphire

Aemond struggles to adjust to Arianwyn’s absence. But on his fifteenth nameday, Ser Gerold Royce arrives with a bronze-wrapped present.

Chapter 14: The Garden

For the first time in the six years she’s been on Dragonstone, Princess Rhaenyra asks for Arianwyn to join her for a walk in the gardens.

Chapter 15: A Holy Sight

At long last, Arianwyn returns to King’s Landing.

Chapter 16: The Legend of Gahaelon and Aeremys

After being reunited after so long, Aemond has one request of Arianwyn: to read him a story.

Chapter 17: Families

Arianwyn is joyfully greeted by Queen Alicent, Princess Helaena, and her young children. But the happy reunion is soon ended as she is called to attend dinner with her Daemon, Rhaenyra, and their children.

Chapter 18: The Petition

When Vaemond Velaryon petitions the Crown to grant him succession of Driftmark, Arianwyn is faced with her worst fears.

Chapter 19: Final Tribute

Arianwyn delays her escape to attend the King’s family dinner to say goodbye to Aemond. But emotions run high, and a final toast may jeopardize her plans.

Chapter 20: The Library

Daemon confronts his daughter.

Chapter 21: Beneath the Weirwood Tree

Arianwyn meets Aemond in the Godswood.

Chapter 22: The Bedding

To prevent Daemon from contesting their marriage, Aemond and Arianwyn proceed with the Bedding Ceremony.

Chapter 23: The Shears

The following morning, Aemond and Arianwyn tell the Queen of what happened. But they soon realize an important figure is missing.

Chapter 24: The Trial of Brynna Taler

Aemond, Arianwyn, and Queen Alicent race to find Brynna. Larys Strong informs them that she has been taken to the Throne Room by none other than Daemon, who claims that it was Brynna herself that attacked him the night before. Not only that, but he also accuses Aemond of forcing Arianwyn to marry him, and of raping her so that the marriage could not be dissolved.

Chapter 25: The Breakfast

With Brynna safe and Daemon on his way back to Dragonstone with the rest of the Blacks, Aemond and Arianwyn enjoy some time alone. However, they are quickly interrupted by the Queen, her children, and her grandchildren joining them for a family breakfast.

Chapter 26: The Women

Arianwyn, Helaena, Alicent, and Brynna sip tea (and wine) and enjoy a moment of relaxation as the dressmakers and craftspeople of King’s Landing present them with their wares.

Chapter 27: Pillow Talk

Together in bed, Aemond & Aria exchange new vows and old secrets.

Chapter 28: Vhagar & Emrys

Six years after the beach on Driftmark, the Queen of All Dragons and Emrys, the young black dragon called Balerion, Second of His Name, by the smallfolk of King’s Landing, finally meet.

Chapter 29: The Bath

Aemond and Arianwyn relax with a shared bath after their dragonflight.

Chapter 30: Storytime

Arianwyn is summoned to the Queen's chambers to fulfill a promise she made to Prince Jaehaerys.

stevesharrlngtons masterlist

 finally making this bitch! stories, drabbles and headcanons for billy hargrove, steve harrington, nancy wheeler.

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ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪᴠᴇ ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏᴛᴀᴘᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴꜱᴏɴ

Summary: Working at a video store when your friends aren’t on shift is dull as hell, that is until an unlikely dude starts building up a film collection. And building up the courage to admit his feelings.

Chapter 1: Texas chainsaw massacre

Chapter 2: Duel

Chapter 3: The breakfast club

Chapter 4: grease

Chapter 5: The rocky horror picture show

slow responses.

billy hargrove x reader

summary: volleyball, a rivalry, a head injury and a worried boyfriend.

word count: 4.6k

a/n: @gutterdreams gave me this idea, and helped me with this a lot and i just love her! also i used to play volleyball and always wanted to be really good (i wasn’t) so i’m living vicariously through the reader. feedback is appreciated 

You breathed deep, the sounds in the gym becoming a dull hum in your consternated state. Your hands were placed firmly on your knees, the end of your ponytail ghosted across your back as you moved side to side.

This was it. This was the biggest game of the season, and you weren’t going to be the one who fucked it up.

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HUMAN

“𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘆, 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗯𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗷𝗲𝗿𝗸…𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝘀𝘁.”

        “𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗰𝗸-𝘂𝗽, 𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗽𝘀𝘆𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗵…𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿.”

      Myrah Koor was a mystery. She worked alone and she worked hard. For a while, she was the best bounty hunter the Guild had ever seen. At least, until a certain Mandalorian came along.       After a small hostage situation, the two team up to find the bounty of a lifetime… twice.       Traveling the galaxy, the unlikely pair takes down enemies, saves the day, and makes a few friends along the way.

𝗗𝗶𝗻 𝗗𝗷𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻/𝗠𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗻 𝘅 𝗢𝗖 𝗔 (𝘀𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳) 𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆

          I am not in association with Disney or Lucas Films. The only thing I have the rights to are my characters and their stories. There may be some alterations here and there, but overall, this follows the general plot to the first season of Disney’s, The Mandalorian.

          As always, I would love to hear comments and recommendations. Your guys’ opinions make my day (and my writing) better.

          Enjoy Human! :)

𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲 | 𝗼𝗻𝗲 | 𝘁𝘄𝗼 | 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 | 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 | 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 | 𝘀𝗶𝘅 | 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 | 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 | 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲 | 𝘁𝗲𝗻 | 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 | 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲 | 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 | 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 | 𝗳𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 | 𝘀𝗶𝘅𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 | 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 | 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 | 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 | 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆 | 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝗼𝗻𝗲 | 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝘁𝘄𝗼 | 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 | 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 | 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 | 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝘀𝗶𝘅 | 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 | 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 | 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲 | 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 | 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆-𝗼𝗻𝗲 | 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆-𝘁𝘄𝗼 | 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆-𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 | 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆-𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 | 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆-𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 | 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆-𝘀𝗶𝘅 |

Rushingly Bittersweet, the series index

moodboard by me

Main Masterlist // Playlist for the main story // ao3

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count for the main story: +86.1k (so far)

The story:

Part 1: the meeting

Part 2: the struggle

Part 3: the warning  

Part 4: the realization

Part 5: the raid                          

Part 6: the handbrush

Part 7: the question                    

Part 8: the kiss

Part 9: the rush                           

Part 10: the trip

Part 11: the dayoff                     

Part 12: the union

Part 13: the backstory               

Part 14: the shitshow

Part 15: the finding                    

Part 16: the reality

Part 17: the rescue                                 

Part 18: the recognition

Part 19: the confession                                 

Part 20: the truth

Part 21: the decision              

Part 22: the aftershock

Part 23: the letter                           

Part 24

Part 25

After RushBit: (Coming soon…)

Past Grievances and Turning Points

Clashing Times

Unexpected Meal

Awkward Encounters

Tertulia Familiar

The One you Call Home

Moonlit Room

Formalities and Introductions

Part 25 goes here in the timeline.

Breakfast for two

Mamá’s inheritance

Rubbing Noses

Chocolate y Nuez

Children’s Game:

Summary: Javi and you go to the county fair… that’s basically it. (1.9k words)

Bull’s eye!

The Little Goddess of Love

…

Extras:

Javier’s views of the War on Drugs, as a mexican-american.

Javier in the aftermath of his first kill on the job.

The Letter; from part 23.

Let’s Do It (Let’s Fall in Love)

Masterlist

Pairing: Roger Taylor x OC 

Theme: Fluff 

Word Count: 3100+

Written for the @bowieandqueen11 fluff writing challenge! This was such a great idea and I had so much fun writing this. I’ve got a LOT of ideas so if people enjoy this I might actually make it a multipart fic. 

My prompt was: “It’s you. You’re the one I love.” Enjoy! 

Brian had been the one to introduce them. He and Genevieve had met during their first year at University, and although Roger had heard her name several times, it took over a year to meet the illusive redhead. That changed late one night in November, when Brian had finally decided to bring her to the flat while Roger was home. She’d been a little shy, returning his wide welcoming grin with one a little more muted and uncertain, but after the first bottle of wine had been finished she’d loosened up a little. They’d ended up sharing the cramped loveseat together while Brian had curled up in the armchair opposite, and as their shoulders bumped and he heard her laughter, Roger swore he felt giddy, but he blamed it on the alcohol.

They drank late into the night, until she started to slump back against the couch cushions, looking between him and Brian through heavy lidded eyes, and they decided it was time to sort out sleeping arrangements. The three had drunkenly argued over who would be sleeping where - Brian obviously couldn’t sleep on the loveseat, and even she would have been uncomfortable in it. Finally, after realising none of them would be able to get a half decent night’s sleep in the living room, she’d proposed sharing a bed with one of them. Brian had locked eyes with Roger over her head - he knew what his flatmate was like - and had suggested Genevieve take his room before stumbling off down towards his room ahead of her, bouncing off the walls of the corridor like a ping pong ball. She and Roger had watched him go with matched looks of bemusement, before she bid him goodnight and followed the lanky guitarist. Roger had paused in his doorway as she approached Brian’s room, stopping just shy of the threshold. He’d seen her nose wrinkle in distaste.

“What is it?” He asked, keeping his voice soft. There was a pause, and then a giggle as she turned to face him.

“Brian snores.” She whispered, and sure enough, as Roger got closer he realised he could hear the telltale snores of a very drunk Brian, who’d apparently passed out as soon as he’d stumbled into his room.

Inviting her to sleep in his room had just been the gentlemanly thing to do, at the time. When he jerked his thumb in the direction of his silent bedroom it had been completely innocuous, but when he woke up just before six, his arms wrapped around her and her back pressed up against his chest, it felt a whole lot less innocent. During the night they’d ended up spooning, so when he woke his nose was pressed into soft auburn curls, arms wrapped loosely around her waist as he anchored her to him. As she shifted in her sleep, burying her face into the pillow, Roger felt her hips swivel a little, her ass grinding back into him, and somewhere in his still-drunk mind the thought emerged to ask if she fancied a quick shag.

Bad idea, Taylor. He scolded himself. Friends don’t fuck their roommate’s friends.

Instead, he closed his eyes and settled back into the mattress, her hair tickling his nose as he pulled her a little closer, more out of habit than anything. Not that he would have told anyone, but waking up with someone curled up in his arms was one of his favourite things in the world.

They didn’t speak about that night for a long time. Brian had no idea Genevieve had spent the night in Roger’s room instead of his - he was the last to wake up and stumble into the kitchen, where she had already prepared a pot of coffee, which she and Roger were sharing as they nursed their hangovers. When he asked her if she slept well, his back to them as he rooted around in the fridge, he missed the sly smile she and Roger shared over their coffee cups.

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Morning Dove (Billy Hargrove x Reader)

Birds Of Prey Pt. 2

Summary: Sneaking around becomes more and more difficult for Billy and the Reader, especially when they are right under Tommy’s nose.

Warnings:  Romantic themes, Mentions of Billy’s abuse, Tommy being mean to the reader, mentions of parental infidelity, crude language (use of the word slut)

January

Such an unfamiliar feeling it was, to have fallen so deeply in love with someone so fast that you could hardly keep up with the world around you.

It was as if nothing existed, just the two of you. It wasn’t like Billy Hargrove to fall in love, but he couldn’t deny the gut-wrenching thought of ever losing you, whether it be the way he lost his mother or the way most young lovers do.

Whenever he wasn’t sure if you had meant it when you told him you loved him, he’d call you in the middle of the night.

Your sleepy voice brought a sense of comfort to him, the image of your tired eyes almost unable to open as your cheek pressed against the side of the phone made his heart pound.

On this night he had found his way to your window, lightly knocking his bloody knuckles against the glass.

As your figure emerged from the shadows of your room, only to be silhouetted by the warm glow of your lamp, Billy longingly admired your shape. In nothing but your silky, pearl nightgown, you opened the curtains to your room. Your arms extended like miraculous wings, you were a vision of a dove.

Worry washed over your gentle features as you saw the state he had been left in. The corner of his mouth was split, dried blood smeared down his chin and along with his jaw, collecting under his nostrils in clumps. Purple bruises had begun to form along his swollen brows, a few slowly forming on the exposed skin where his chest peaked through his shirt.

Frantically, you turned the crank that opened the window. The air was frigid and brisk, goosebumps erupting along your arms.

“Hey, angel.” He choked out, stumbling into your room as your arms wrapped protectively around his strong back.

“Billy.” You breathed as he sank into your embrace. “Did he do this?”

“I talked back apparently.” He mumbled into your hair.

Guiding him backwards before turning him around, you say him down.

“Stay here, I’m going to go get something to wash and clean those cuts,” You explained, his hand catching your wrist before you could go. The sorrow in his eyes was undeniably painful to look at, it was almost as if he were scared for you to go, afraid you’d never come back.

“Billy?” You asked, glancing between him and your wrist. Slowly he let go, giving a sad nod. “I’ll be right back.”

Within a few minutes, you returned with an armful of supplies to help aid Billy. Setting them down on the mattress next to him, you gently wiped his face with the warm washcloth. His fist tightened once you dabbed the rubbing alcohol over his wounds, only to relax when your lips touched his forehead.

“Thanks,” he whispered, his hands finding your hips as he looked up at you. He nuzzled his head into your abdomen, rubbing against the smooth, silky fabric of your nightgown. Your fingers combing through his locks, soothing his nerves as he was still shaken by what had happened.

Your brows knitted together as you noticed blood seeping through the back of his shoulder.

Sliding your hands down from his hair and onto his shoulders, you lightly pushing him back.

“Let’s get these off, okay?” You asked, your fingers tugging at the collar of his shirt, his head gently nodding.

The bed dipped as you crawled onto the mattress, situating yourself behind his back. Billy shivered as your arms laced around his neck, sliding down his chest as your fingers undid the buttons of his shirt.

Peeling back the fabric of his shirt, you helped Billy wriggle it off of his arms.

Your chest tightened, your eyes growing wide. It was now that you realized just how badly he had been thrown around. Little scars branded his flesh, cuts and scrape’s coating his shoulder blades.

Desperately wanting to take away his pain, you peppered kisses across his back, as if somehow your touch would heal his wounds.

“How can I help you?” You choked, fighting back tears, unable to bear seeing him suffer like this.

The last thing he wanted was for you to feel any type of guilt or sorrow, especially not with his own issues and woes.

His body twisted around to look back at you, placing a hand on your lap with a sad smile.

“You can’t.” He whispered.

You pressed his bruised knuckles to your lips, before placing his palm against your cheek. His other hand found your other cheek as he leaned into you, slowly reclining you back onto the bed.

“Does it hurt?” You asked sadly, staring at his beautiful face that had been poisoned by his father’s rage.

“No.” He smiled as he stroked your hair, tucking it behind your ear. “Not when I’m with you.”

Your lips contorted into a sideways smile, pouting with amused eyes.

“Now look who’s being corny.” You teased,  rubbing your hand up his chest. Billy cocked a brow at you, delighted by your sudden change of attitude.

Your touches were soft, like feathers against hard steel as they wandered his skin.

The smell of bacon grease wafted into your room, at first you thought nothing of it, that is until you realized the only reason as to why bacon would be being made.

Your cheek was pressed against the warmth of Billy’s chest, panic now ensuing.

“Good morn-“ Billy began before you abruptly sat up, pulling the blanket up to your chest.

“My parents are home, they-fuck they must have come back early.” You exclaimed, a wild look in your eye.

Footsteps click-clacked down the hall, no doubt it was your stepmother and her Mary Janes. Your eyes fell on the doorknob, your heart nearly falling into the pit of your stomach as you realized you hadn’t locked the door.

“Honey! Breakfast is ready, come on you and your brother can’t sleep away the day.” She sighed, the knob turning.

Slamming your body against the door as it began to slowly creak open, your stepmother let out a loud gasp of surprise.

“Sara-Anne, I’m naked! I just got out of the shower!” You yelled, forcing the lock shut. “I’ll be down in a minute, okay?”

“Alright, um honey it might be wise to put on a towel. Don’t want to see you walking around in your birthday suit.” She huffed, still having a hard time grasping the strange behaviours of the two teenagers living in her house.

Billy watched in amusement, not even phased about nearly being caught by your stepmother.

“Get that smug look on your face.” You glared, before bouncing back onto your bed. “Or I’ll have to get rid of it myself.”

“I’m liking the sound of that.” He smirked, hooking his arm around you, pulling you into his lap. “How much time do you think we have.”

“I think I can schedule you in.” You murmured against his lips.

With a satisfied look on his face, Billy snuck out of your backyard. A cigarette hanging from between his teeth and bottom lip as he leaned over to light up-that is until a certain yellow blob in the wilting tree caught his eye.

“Well holy shit.” He said, the cigarette bobbing with his words.

He looked around, making sure the coast was clear before making an absolute fool of himself.

Within thirty minutes, Billy found himself tangled in branches, the small Canary tilting its head as Billy tried to grasp the small bird.

“Come here you little shit.” He seethed, the cigarette now on the sidewalk below. “Come on, I’ve gotta bring you back to my girlfriend- to your mama.”

The bird inching closer to the end of the branch, letting out a small chirp at Billy.

“Don’t you dare-do not take another step,” Billy warned, clinging to the branches as he inched closer to the bird.

“Don’t you want your mama?” The yellow bird perked up at the sound of “mama”.

“Oh shit, you like that word? Mama? Ma-Ma.” Billy cooed, making kissing sounds as he reached outward.

Mrs Elbert waddled along the sidewalk, her cane scraping against the cement. Her wrinkled face furrowed together as a leg hung down from the old sycamore tree.

“What in the hell?” She grumbled, shuffling closer.

“Got you, you little shit.” A voice exclaimed wildly from above.

A loud snap cracked overhead, followed by a series of profanities as Billy smacked against the grass, rolling down the small incline and stopping at Mrs Elbert’s white tennis shoes.

“What are you doing up in the trees?” The old woman nagged, poking his chest with the end of her cane.

Prying one eye open, Billy squinted up at the woman as the morning sun burned his eyes.

“Just bird watching.” Billy breathed shakily as the wind had been knocked out of him from the fall.

The small bird squirmed against his chest.

It was a miracle your beloved Morty had survived the cold months-despite all the odds stacked against him, he had found his way back to you.

You were surprised to see Billy at your front door, especially considering your entire family was home. When Tommy had called for you, his tone was annoyed more than anything.

“I found your bird,” Billy said, resisting the urge to smile or show any genuine happiness to see the excitement and joy in your eyes as you carefully scooped Morty up in your hands.

“You should’ve beat it over the head with a rock,” Tommy grumbled, annoyed his malicious actions hadn’t succeeded, as he pulled on a jacket.

“Thanks. It’s Billy…right?” You grinned once Tommy’s back was to you.

“Don’t mention.” He smirked, running his tongue along his front teeth.

It wasn’t long before your father whisked Sara-Anne off on another business trip three cities over.

It was only a matter of time before the seniors of Hawkins high pooled into your home, drunkenly dancing and hooking up in the hallway closet.

Tommy shotgunned his fourth beer, slowly beginning to feel buzzed, eagerly trying to impress Billy but to no avail as he had already disappeared into the crowd.

As Carol sloppily danced, her beer spilt onto the carpet.

“Careful, my dad will blow a gasket if he figures out I threw a party.” He scolded, Carol only laughing in response.

“Let’s go break in your new mattress.” She drawled, seizing him by the wrist and pulling him toward the stairs. Tommy wasn’t about to argue with her on that suggestion.

As the two tumbled down the upstairs hall, Tommy was now starting to feel the side effects of the four beers he had downed earlier. He sobered up pretty quickly as he noticed the light pooling out from under your bedroom door-accompanied with soft giggles and incoherent murmurs.

You had made it very clear you wanted nothing to do with his party, and that you would be hanging out with some friends from your school.

“Hey!” He yelled banging on the door, his words slurring. “That’s my sister’s room, y-you sick fucks.”

It was a dangerous game you were playing, having Billy under your roof whilst you were under him, all while your brother was lurking about the house.

April

“You can’t be serious.” Tommy rolled his eyes, tossing a baseball up into the air before catching it again. “There no way Billy is screwing my sister.”

“Half.” Carol reminded with a bored tone as she filed her nails. Her body sprawled across his bed, annoyed beyond belief that Tommy hadn’t so much as touched her since she arrived.

“Where the fuck did you even get that from? I mean, why would Billy even humour her? She’s a total loser, you saw how upset she got over a dumb bird. Billy only bangs babes.” Tommy asserted.

“Sounds like you want to bang him.” Carol quipped, not looking up from her nails.

Tommy ripped the nail file from her hand and whipped it across the room.

“You’re being a real bitch, you know that?” He snapped, her hands raised in defence as she rolled off the side of his bed.

“I’ve got to pee, if you don’t stop acting like a dick when I come back then I’m leaving.” She threatened before heading down the hall, leaving Tommy on his bed, Carol’s words simmering in his mind.

Susan Mayfield was a mousy woman, but she had a kind soul.

When she answered the door to a very distressed looking girl, she had expected that perhaps you needed to borrow the phone.

“Hi sweetheart, can I help you?” She asked with motherly concern, hiding her slender frame behind the door.

“Sorry, I wouldn’t have bothered Billy at home like this but I uh-I really need to talk to him.” You explained, glancing behind you now and then to ensure Tommy hadn’t followed you.

“Billy? Right, of course! Come on in.” She said opening the door, stepping out of the way to allow you through.

“Thank you, it’s just I-I didn’t know what else to do.” You said, picking up your bird cage with a chirping Morty inside. “Is it okay if I bring him in, I don’t want him to get sick and-“

The tears began to spill down the sides of your face as you thought about what Tommy threatened to do to your bird.

“Of course, please come inside. My husband actually just stepped out, so don’t mind the quiet.” She said, placing a welcoming hand on your shoulder as you sniffled.

As she led you down the hall, you couldn’t help but notice the old wallpaper that seemed to be falling apart at the seams. 

It was strange, the more you thought about it the more you realized that Billy had actively made an effort to avoid bringing you over to his home. Although, you couldn’t blame him for not wanting to, considering his home life wasn’t exactly pleasant.

“Billy?” Susan asked very softly as she cracked open his bedroom door.

He looked up from the records that he had been organizing, somewhat surprised by Susan’s presence.

“Yes?” He asked in a confused tone.

“Your girlfriends here, um she seems very upset.” She whispered, glancing back at you as you seemed to have spaced out.

His eyes widened at the term “girlfriend”. It was strange to hear it out loud as neither of you had ever said it other than in the safety of your room or his car. His attention quickly dissolved from the label of your relationship and onto the part about your distress.

“Oh.” He said, quickly getting to his feet once he saw the state you were in as Susan gestured for you to come over.

Susan closed the door behind her to allow for some privacy, still worried about you as she returned to the living room.

“I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want me to come here but I just-“ you couldn’t form a proper sentence as you unravelled in front of him.

Billy took the birdcage from your hand and gently set it down, proceeding to engulf you into his embrace.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” He cooed, stroking the back of your hair as you began to sob.

The closest he had ever seen you cry was the day he first saw you, when you nearly wept right then and there over the loss of your bird, then again on the night he found himself in your bed completely battered.

“He said-Tommy said he was going to kill Morty. That he’d go into my room when I wasn’t home, unscrew the lock that you put in for me, and break his neck.” You explained, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt.

“Carol put the idea in his head that there was something going on between us.” You paused, stepping back to meet his gaze. “Billy, he’s never liked me, but the way he looked at me the way he spoke to me was pure hatred.”

You were a product of Tommy’s father and his infidelities. You had taken his family from him, in his eyes of course, and now you were taking his friends. It was far from the true reality, but Tommy was hellbent on making it loud and clear that he was not about to let you ruin another pointless aspect of his life.

“Y/N, stay here. I’m going to go knock his teeth in and break his-“ Billy seethed but was cut short by your cries.

“No, please! Please, he’ll kill my bird.” You whimpered. “Please, just leave it. I have to go home to him not you.”

“Then why come here? Huh?” He asked, not angry with you but rather angry that you wouldn’t allow him to protect you.

But alas, this was your fight, through and through it was your battle to be won, for your wings hadn’t been clipped.

“The same reason you came to my window in the middle of the night covered in bruises.” You retorted.

The hard lines in his face slowly dissolving into nothing as he began to understand just how similar you two were when it came to the problems you faced at home.

At that moment he thought of Max. 

Billy Hargrove thought of how terrified he was of his father, and how scared you were to face the wrath of your own brother.

Then he thought of the look on Max’s face when he grabbed her wrist that day in the car.

No matter how many times he had gone over it in his head, no matter how many times he told himself it was for her own good, that his bigoted father would unleash his anger onto her the way he did nearly every day onto Billy, if he found out who she had been hanging around with.

He could convince himself he was protecting her, but in reflection he knew had only frightened her.

“Follow me, bring Morty too.” He said after letting out a heavy sigh.

Following after Billy, carefully holding the cage in your arms, you lingered behind him as he knocked on his sister’s door.

“What?” The younger girl asked, clearly not happy about seeing her step-brother at her door, although when she saw the tear-stained face of the girl behind him, with a birdcage, clung to her chest, she had a feeling something was wrong.

“Max, could you watch Morty- her bird for a bit?” He asked, knowing too well what would happen if Neil found him in his own room, the memory of his goldfish being flushed down the toilet-still well and alive- when he was in the third grade haunting the back of his mind.

“Uh…sure.” She said, only agreeing for your sake as the sadness in your eyes was enough to compel anyone to help.

It was one of the few times Max had seen Billy show any emotion other than anger or annoyance, he seemed worried. 

He seemed human.

“Look,” Billy said as he stuck his tongue out at you, revealing the blue stain covering it.

You laughed happily, revealing your matching blue tongue.

It had become a sort of ritual between the two of you, whenever one was feeling down or had a rough day you’d make your way to the gas station and get a slushie.

In all honesty, Billy hated the blue raspberry flavour-it was far too sour and the sweetness didn’t last long enough for his liking. It was only when he saw the happy look on your face after he chose your favourite flavour, that he would pretend to love it every single time.

“Thanks for this.” You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder whilst placing your drink in the cup holder. “I feel a lot better now.”

“Are you coming to the game tonight?” Billy asked as he stirred his straw around the blue slush.

You sat up, facing him now.

“You want me to?” You smiled.

Billy hadn’t allowed you to step foot inside Hawkins high. Whether it be from the shame he felt by his reputation or the desire to keep his two worlds apart, he was pretty adamant about not taking you near the high school.

You attended West Lafayette, an all-girls school that was an hour bus ride into the next city over. The girls at school practically drooled when you showed them a picture of your “secret boyfriend” that you had taken of him at the video store, as it was part of a promotion for Polaroid.

With the Sadie Hawkins dance approaching at your school, and the various dances thrown at Hawkins you were itching to ask Billy to go with you. Now that he had bridged the gap between your relationship and school, you thought maybe he would be open to the idea.

“Of course, I need my girl on the courtside. You’re my lucky charm.” He said, tapping his hand against your thigh.

Your brows narrowed as a mischievous look spread across your face.

“Am I…magically delicious?” You grinned.

For a moment Billy had a salacious look in his eyes, taking your words as come on. That is until he realized you were referring to the cereal brand slogan.

“You are relentless.” He groaned leaning his head back against the rest. “I walked right into that one, huh?”

“You love me.” You said nudging into his shoulder. He couldn’t keep a straight face for long as he broke into a toothy grin, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

The gym erupted into shouts and whistles as the cheerleaders pooled in, waving their pompoms as they pumped up the crowd.

It was strange seeing how excited people got over a basketball game, especially for a high school team. Sports at West Lafayette were more serious, there wasn’t a big production made out of the lacrosse games and scouts frequented the soccer tournaments.

One of the cheerleaders giddily ran up to you, waving the pompoms in your face and chanted “let’s go Hawkins Hawks” before running back over with the rest.

You found a spot near the back, hoping to go undetected by Tommy.

Your hands tucked the back of your sundress under your thighs as you sat down on the bleacher, pulling the sides of your cardigan closer to your body as the gym was rather cold.

As the basketball players piled into the gymnasium, sneakers squeaking against the smooth floor.

“Look at that ass on Hargrove.” A girl squealed, elbowing her friend next to her.

Your smile faded at her words, somewhat feeling insecure about yourself.

“What I’d do to do him.” The friend giggled, taking a sip of her coke.

Your fingers curled around the fabric of your dress. You hadn’t even humour the idea that Billy was embarrassed by you or even if he was just using you, and that being the reason as to why he never wanted to bring you around the school.

Of course, you knew that wasn’t the case, Billy wasn’t going to flaunt you around at Hawkins when Tommy was there. But the more you heard the Hawkins girls gush over him, the more insecure you felt.

Once the game finished, you lingered around the halls, holding your breath until Tommy finally left.

Glancing over at the clock on the wall, you let out a sigh as thirty minutes had passed by. It seemed as if every player but Billy had made their way out of the change room.

Hesitantly you pressed your palms against the door, a gust of steam blew against your face. The squeak of the shower tap echoed in the empty change room, bouncing off of the steel blue lockers.

“Billy? Hell-ooo” You sang, folding your arms across your chest.

“Back here babe, sorry I’m taking so long.” He apologized, walking out from behind the showers, a towel wrapped around his waist.

You found yourself staring at his bare chest, swallowing had as you snapped back up to his eyes.

“You were really great out there. The way you just, y’know tossed the ball around, scored on the hoops.” You complimented.

His hands were warm as he cupped your face, bringing his lips to yours.

“Thanks.” He smiled, brushing your hair back off of your shoulders.

Halfway to his car, Tommy realized he left his keys in the change room bench.

“Fuck. I left the keys in the locker, I’m gonna go grab them. Watch my shit.” Tommy said to Carol before jogging back toward the school.

He paused for a moment as he stood outside the locker room. A devilish grin spreading across his face as he pressed his ear to the door.

“Billy’s getting it” he laughed before bursting into the locker room, eagerly awaiting to see the look on his face.

Unfortunately for Tommy, the joke was on him.

It was a horrifying sight, to see Billy pressed against you as you leaned on the lockers. Your hands tangled in his wild locks, as his lips devoured yours hungrily.

“What the FUCK Hargrove!” Tommy growled, prying him off of you.

Thankfully, Billy had already put on some pants so he didn’t have to worry about his towel falling-not that he’d care.

“Get your hands off of me, bitch,” Billy growled, shoving Tommy backward, slamming into the other set of lockers.

“Really, Hargrove? Making a slut out of my sister?” Tommy seethed, glaring at you before returning his gaze to Billy.

“Don’t you fucking call her that.” Billy roared, his fist connected with your brother’s jaw.

“Stop, Stop!” You demanded, wedging yourself between the two, your hand forcing Billy back by his chest. “Let me handle this-please, for my sake.”

His jaw set in a tight line, his head nodding ever so slightly.

“Tommy, I’m not doing this anymore. We are eighteen now, not five. I don’t give a flying fuck if you don’t like me, quite frankly I fucking loathe you.” You fumed.

“You fucking bastard.” Tommy spat, having lost all control over you.

“Don’t call me that.” You warmed.

“The minute I get home, your bird is dead.” He threatened before stumbling backwards, caught off guard from your fist uppercutting his chin.

It was in that moment that there was a shift in power within the H household.

No longer a feeble dove pinned under the sharp talons of the monstrous vulture, you were now a Phoenix, emerging from the ashes of your predestined burden.

You were free.

Taglist: @madhatterweasley @characterobsessed @cometoceantrenches @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @mayfieldsgirl  @billyhargrovedaddy@kaliforniacoastalteens @denimjacketkisses @edgyeggy0 @klarissa141dr5

Masterlist

Find all of my writing HERE

18+ only.

So far we have:

A  Mummy//Indiana Jones Jack Daniels

An Alien (Isolation) Ezra

A Regency Din Djarin

A Mature Student // Competent Frankie Morales

A Scottish Station Meet Cute Ezra

A Christmas Eve Max Lord who is awful and yet…

A Security Consultant in Switzerland Santiago Garcia  

Bearer of Bad News

[ series masterlist at end ]

prompt: devastating news reaches your ears from an unlikely messenger.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!wife!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: 7.2k+

note: oh no it's turning into a pirate baby war criminal series.

warnings: spoilers, cursing, OC Aemond, author has a thing for pet names and making hardened men simps for their ladies. not really edited, angst, ambiguous ending because why not. ❗️major season one, episode ten spoilers

🔞 none of the following content is appropriate for minors 🔞 ❌ all taglists are discontinued

"Aemond, please listen to reason, and do not go," you begged your husband as you followed him around your room; hand to your freely-swelling belly firm as if to keep the small babe in place. "Please - I wish I could explain it but I fear for this message you are to carry."

"Hey, hey," Aemond paused in his venture to ready himself for his envoy trip to the Storm Lands; turning to take your hands in his. "Is that what this is about, my sweet? You know you are the love and light of my life," he smirked broadly as if to tease you, "and no Baratheon whore is going to change that. Hmm?"

"Do not remind me of your brother's vile proposal," you sneered, rolling your eyes away from his piercing gaze. "It was disrespectful, at best!"

He chuckled a bit, tugging you in so he could hold your waist. "Come now, my sweet wife. It is just a marriage pact for an alliance. What're the odds I will actually have to marry the broad? Hey?"

"You are not free to marry," you snapped.

"I am honored for the privilege to uphold our ancestral customs. More than one wife is a Targaryen tradition, my pet."

"Aemond."

He smirked deeper, "They are but silly words, my love. Who ever Lord Borros offers will not share my bed, nor affection, but only my name."

"Our name," you reminded, "for I am still your wife. I am carrying your Targaryen child, and you will show me respect."

"Of course, darlin'," he relented with a nod. "I meant no offense."

"And she would share our home, too, is it?"

He shrugged, "Perhaps Aegon will take interest in her."

"Oh, that's cruel."

"I do not know how to satisfy you, my love. Help me out here."

"Go back and refuse your brother because you are married to me, and that is enough!"

"They are just words," he sighed, leaning his forehead to yours as his hand cradled your cheek to keep you close. "Ease yourself, my love, please. 'S not good for the babe."

You huffed lightly, "Does not mean you should carry his message to Lord Borros. Please, Aemond, it storms there all the time and that can be dangerous, do not go. Just - do not leave me alone."

"I will only be gone a single day, my love," he promised with patience, leaning in to press his lips to yours. Long gone was his teasing smirk, seeing and feeling your genuine worry for his wellbeing and deciding it was better to comfort your pregnancy-brain.

Helaena had warned Aemond that once with child, the mind kinda slips, but it is not to be held against the woman for it is just a symptom of creating life in their belly.

"Then will you do me a favor?"

"Hmm?"

"Take Kasta, please."

"Oh, my sweet girl," he chuckled now. "I cannot take your dragon, she is yours, and she still grows. She is not suited for this trip, okay? Worry not, Vhagar will protect and serve me well."

You sighed sadly, "Well, when you've an answer for everything, 'tis a bit hard to be upset."

"You're just worried," he sighed, nodding in understanding. "Hear me, please, my sweet wife. There is nought a thing for you to worry over, there is nothing of concern."

"Well, what if my mother sends an envoy?"

"What if she does?"

"What will you do?"

"Out of respect only for you, I will not engage," he smirked, placating you. "I am eager to return, we might continue to celebrate our child."

"That sounds so strange, my love," you pouted lightly, making him crack a brief smile. "How am I to ensure you are safe? What if I went with you on Kasta?"

"Not a chance in all Seven Hells," he laughed, pecking your forehead twice. "Oh, I love you dearly, my pet, but I am not letting you fly into Storms End - even with a loyal beast like Kasta."

You huffed lightly, "Then take me yourself on Vhagar."

"You are the Princess," he shook his head with a whisper, "and my beloved wife - I will not risk you in any capacity."

"Fine!" You rolled your eyes, pecking his lips before finally pulling back to drop onto the bed - rubbing your swelling belly. "But what if you just didn't go? Hmm? You know?"

"No, pet. Not possible," he answered smoothly, as if he anticipated your words while continuing to ready himself. "What if you were in the Dragon Pit when I returned? So that you might see, as the first, that I am safe and well?"

You thought about it as Aemond pulled leather garb onto his body, smirking at you as he went. "Maybe..."

"Would you like to do my hair, my Princess?" He offered, holding a brush out for you. You snatched it up and grinned to yourself, easing him into a chair before starting on his locks. "Just keep it away from my face, pet. Got a long fly."

"I know how you like it," you smirked, leaning in to kiss his cheek and jaw. "Sit still please." He titled his head back to peck your lips, then settled to allow you to work.

Yet as he did, a hand was never far from you; pinching your hip or lingering near your elbow as you worked. He'd never admit it, but the Prince adore physical touch and often like to express himself through it; relying on most nonverbal communication. When you had his hair secured, you then fixed his eye patch on properly and sighed deeply to yourself, making your husband softly wonder, "What's on your mind, pretty girl?"

"I'll just miss you, I guess," you shrugged. "You truly must go?"

Helaena had also warned Aemond that pregnancy-brain can make some women clingy - though she did not experience it herself.

Prince Aemond sighed as he stood from his chair to hover over you - the damn bean stalk of a man - and held your waist tightly. "I will meet you in the Pit after," he promised. "Be there at sundown, yes?"

"Of course, my Prince," you promised in a whisper, ensuring the words were meant only for him. Trying to prove your love, you told him in High Valyrian, "I will wait for you forever, if I must. But do not make me."

He chuckled, "Oi, hey, watch it, my pretty wife. You know I can hardly resist when you get to talkin' in tongues."

You grinned against his lips, letting him pressing one, two, three more kisses in parting. "Be careful," you whispered, "and please come back to me."

"I will always do what I can to ensure that, sweet wife," he answered just as quietly, nodding sadly. "I must go..."

You sniffled, "All right. Go on, 's all right, love. Be careful in the Storm Lands, it's not named lightly."

Taking one last look at you, Aemond sighed and squeezed your hand, leaving you with his words, "Be in the Pit later."

You nodded, watching him stride towards the door, but something lurched in your stomach. "A-Aemond?" You call, jogging slightly after him. As if anticipating your movements, he turned swiftly and caught you in a tight embrace; letting his hand lock around the back of your neck to keep you steady as his nose pressed into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply to commit your scent to memory.

He sighed, petting over your hair for a moment as you both savored the feeling of one another. When ready, you pulled back with tears shining in your eyes - but willed them not to fall. You knew it was silly to worry over him for a matter such as this, but you felt sickened by his departure, and prayed for his safety.

"No matter what is to come, know that I love you deeply," he swore quietly, petting over your chin with his calloused fingertips; foreheads resting together to keep proximity. "'S all right, it'll be all right, sweetheart."

"Just come home, and I will wish for little else."

He smirked some, "Pregnancy has made you soft, my wife. 'Tis a good look on you."

"Is it?"

"I adore it," he promised with a chuckle. "Now, kiss me, my pretty girl, and I will return by nightfall."

Surging onto your toes, your arms rose to let you hold onto your husbands neck; his lips finding yours in a passionate, frenzied dance. Just before the kiss grew sloppy, Aemond pressed his lips in meaningful, hardened affection - something you physically felt.

He had to pull back or else risk being tempted into staying; petting the side of your face before turning swiftly and slipping out the door. You heard his footsteps retreat down the hall and slowly claimed a seat on your shared bed - that had only just cooled from your warm bodies finding solace and peace in the sheets from the night.

You kept yourself busy for the whole day, trying not to wonder over Aemond's adventures. You took time to sit with Helaena for a bit, visiting with the twins; answering any of the girl's questions about your pregnancy. "You've grown," she cocked her head softly, eyes set on your belly.

"Oh," you smiled a bit, nodding to the newly-crowned Queen, "yes, it seems the babe grew overnight, and only after I could tell the news."

"He's listening," Helaena nodded. "Like he knows."

You chuckled a bit, laying an affectionate hand to your belly to rub slightly. "Yes, I imagine so, sometimes. Though, between you and me," you lowered your tone to lean in, telling her, "I wager it's a girl."

"Really?" Your sister-by-law asked with intrigue. "How special!"

You hummed and nodded, going back to mindless embroidery as the twins played on the floor near your feet. As usual, the Queen stitched a new bug, but you weren't sure of your design because you continued to fall distracted, leaving your pallet a mess of tangled colorful thread. You tried to play it off, but for the rest of the day, you worried for your husband.

Whether pacing the gardens or pacing your bedchambers, you could not remain still as both your back and stomach knotted themself in stress. You could barely be spoken to the whole day, and come the evening meal, your step-mother, the Queen Regent, Alicent Hightower, was reaching for your hand. "Are you alright, dearest girl? You've barely touched your meal this evening."

You nodded stiffly, "Of course I'm alright."

She sighed knowingly, "I did not like it, either, you should know."

"What might that be, Your Grace?"

"Well, for one, Aegon sending Aemond away to parlay with the Baratheons, and offering his hand to any of his daughters."

You sighed, obediently replying, "The King can do as he pleases."

She sighed, muttering, "Not always. I told him he had no right in offering his brother's hand, but he would not hear me. What of Aemond's reaction?"

"To the Prince, Your Grace, they are but pitiful words that he does not mean," you answered, pushing a bit of stewed vegetables around your plate. "To me? They are unjustly cruel and wittingly disrespectful."

She nodded in agreement, "Worry not, dear girl, I will speak to Aegon, and we will design a new strategy for loyalty."

You half-smiled, glancing across the table to the 'King'. You knew your mother was the rightful heir but considering your position amongst the Greens, you wanted to tread as neutrally as possible. Tearing your eyes away from the boy-playing-King, you tried to focus on your meal but how could you when the sun was set in place to sink?

After asking for leave once stomaching three bites of your meal, that Alicent permitted with a soft kiss to your cheek, you stood from the table, gave a short curtsy to the King, nodding to the Queen, and turned on your heel to escape the dining quarters. When alone in your chambers, you were swift to swing a hooded cloak onto your shoulders; hiding your trademark silver locks, and slipping out of the secret passage your room hosted.

Early one night in your marriage, Aemond had shown you - and together, you were pretty sure you had only found half of the Red Keep's secret passages. Yet this was all you needed, jogging through the stronghold to pass onto the darkening street, and head for the Dragon Pit.

Upon arriving, your hair was the only confirmation guards needed to let you pass, and when you got there, Aemond had yet to arrive. With worry, you paced by your dragon's keep and Kasta watched you with curiosity burning in her eyes. She huffed a few times, making you pause to nuzzle her snout - but she grew larger by the day, and it was harder to offer her affectionate cuddles.

She wasn't the size of Vhagar, but something akin to Meleys, or the Red Queen, that had last been seen when smashing the Dragon Pit to shit during Aegon's coronation. The only reason you were bitter about it all was because, for one, you did not think of it, and two, Princess Rhaenys did not take out Alicent and the Greens when she had the chance. You worried not for yourself, for fire cannot kill a dragon, but when the Princess only turned the Red Queen away and soared out of the closing-Pit, you couldn't help but feel mildly disappointed.

Kasta heard it before you did, but a moment after the large, emerald green dragon picked her head up in alarm, you heard the echoing roar of Vhagar returning. Kasta cocked her head and snorted as she stood to her feet, taking only three steps so she stood completely over you protectively.

"It's Vhagar and Aemond, my love," you spoke softly in your Mother's Tongue. "Not to worry."

But the dragon did not back down, and in fact, let steam billow out of her nostrils. Being one of the larger beasts, your dragon was housed with Vhagar and Meleys, but after the Red Queen's departure, Kasta was left alone today... Making you wonder why she was overly protective in that moment.

You tried to chalk it up to you being pregnant and like Aemond, Kasta only wanted to keep you close to ensure your safety. But when your knees buckled some under the tremor of Vhagar's landing, you wondered if you were imagining things, or if the dragon's movements felt much... Shakier.

Kasta growled when you tried to move and with a squeak, you were wrapped in her heaving paw, being drug back under her stoic form. "Kasta!" You reprimanded sharply. "He's my husband, there is no - " But you gasped when Vhagar gave a mighty roar from within the Pit - sand and dirt trembling from the cracked walls from sheer vibration. Kasta raised her head when you took a step back to feel her breast at your head.

When the thundering steps of Vhagar was heard, your dragon bared her teeth in threat - and you suddenly worried for your position. It was obvious tension ran high and if your other-wise very sweet and docile dragon was riled up, you worried she could smell something alarming on Vhagar. But she kept her paw close to you in a cradle, as if to keep you at bay and under her protection.

"Aemond?" You called when you heard someone grunt and pant from down the way; the echo of the Pit proving useful in this moment.

"Love? That you?"

You tried to step out, but Kasta growled and slammed her arm in front of you to prevent your departure. "Oh, Kasta! Not now!"

But you only earned a threatening growl in return.

"What's happening?" Aemond's voice called, his body appearing at the mouth of your dragon's alcove - taking a step back when her large, emerald head whipped around to glower at him. "Is something wrong?" He asked you, cautious of the dragon growling at him. "The baby?"

"Baby's fine, but I was hoping you could tell me what was wrong," you sighed, stroking over your dragon's hide of her inner arm. "Kasta went on the defense the moment she heard Vhagar. Why would that be, husband?"

But you didn't expect Aemond to stiffen, lifting his gaze up and away from you.

"Aemond?" You wondered gently, trying to steer his attention towards you from behind your dragon's arm. "My love, are you all right? What's happened?" The term of endearment from your desperate lips made your husband flinch, turning away from you in full, and making you snap, "Aemond Targaryen, you tell me what's happened - now!"

Kasta gave a guttural growl when your temper spiked. It made your long, silver haired husband pause. When he turned to look at you again, you could see the few tears falling down his cheeks and knew it was not beads of water dripping from his still-sopping hair. Your dragon stepped out when you did, keeping her body between you both and Vhagar - something you noticed acutely.

"Did something happen with Vhagar, my love? Are you injured?" You asked as you finally approached him, but Aemond uncharacteristically flinched away from your hands as you tried to reach for him. "What's this? What's happened? Are you hurt?"

"I..." He took a breath, tears brimming in his violet eye to fall helplessly down his pale, sunken cheek. "I did not mean for it to happen, love..."

"Okay," you nodded patiently. "So, there was an accident?"

"In a way," he relented, breathing out tautly before leaning to a wall and sliding down it - the look of despair and dejection etched on his face. You slowly approached him. "When I tell you what has happened, I will lose you, too. You will leave, and I will be unable to stop you - but you've got to know how bloody sorry I am."

"Aemond," you sighed. "You're starting to frighten me, my love. What's happened? Please tell me, are you hurt?"

"I'm not hurt... But you said so long as I returned here, to you, you could not ask for anything else, right?" He asked breathlessly, watching you nod as you slowly lowered yourself beside him; facing him so you could watch his face. "Does that still stand... If I've made a terrible mistake that will effect you, too?"

You sighed, "All right. Hey," you nodded, reaching for his trembling, freezing cold hand, "you can do a lot in this lifetime, Aemond Targaryen, but very little will shake the foundation of love that we have. What has happened that's so bad, hmm?"

He whispered, "Might've... Potentially started the war..."

You sighed sadly, sat in the sand, "Oh, Aemond... C'mon, love, you were just to carry a message to Lord Baratheon."

"I know."

"So, how is it you potentially started the war? Hmm?" You shuffled closer to him, trying not to let your heart shrivel from the way he visibly recoiled. "The hell's going on? This isn't like you - we're a team, Aemond. Why're you shutting me out? See - this is in part why I wanted to go, then you'd have no need to explain anything."

He nodded mutely, taking a staggering breath in that worried you more. Aemond didn't often show regret, but here, before you now, it was obvious the young Prince was drowning in it.

"Aemond, please, you're worrying me, my love," you whispered, trying to warm his hands in yours. But still, he could not meet your eyes, and his hands were deadly limp.

"I don't know where to start," his voice crackled into a whisper.

"From the beginning, please," you nodded, readjusting slightly to better look at him. "Sweetheart, just take your time, but please, do not shut me out. I cannot help you if I do not know what plagues you."

In a broken whisper, he admitted, "Once I tell you, you won't think to call me sweetheart - or sweet anything, again. Gods," he breathed, chuckled without humor, "I did not think I would miss something so much but the idea of never hearing you call me a pet name again sends my stomach to my feet."

"My Lord husband is a sweet man," you slowly reached for his face, caressing his jaw so he looked at you, "though perhaps only I get the pleasure of bearing witness to it," you whispered in return, letting your thumb caress his skin. "I will be the judge of what name befits him, for I am the one calling him. But I will need to know what startles him so. I will need to know so I can try to help him through his grief."

He blinked a few times, but your image became blurred as emotion coated his throat, "Please, just... Do not leave me after you know."

Though Aemond might not have felt true, gut-wrenching guilt over what had become of the young Prince Luke, he feared telling you, and feared what would happen once you knew. He knew that he could not, nor would he want to, stop you from fleeing the capital. And after today, the least he could do is assist smuggling you out. The very idea made his stomach clench; where he once planned a future with you and your child, now, his mind flashed with the idea of helping you get back to your mother.

Speaking of, he was jarred into reality by your voice asking, "Did you kill my mother?"

"No," he spoke swiftly.

"Then there is little to worry over," you sighed. "Less you killed my little brothers, then, that is... Different...?" You trailed off when his head hit the wall behind him, restraining the emotion from his face as he kept his head tilted to the side in an effort to avoid you. "Aemond? Hey, look at me, please... Please, Aemond, did something happen? Has something happened to my brothers?"

His hands trembled in yours, his throat croaking, "Yes."

You had to pause, trying to keep a level head. "All right, well, is that the accident you speak of?"

"It is..."

"This is... The accident you caused that's potentially started the war?"

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Answer me, Aemond, please. Is this the accident you speak of that has caused the start of the war? Speak plainly."

Your husband paused to swallow thickly, finally admitting, "Yes. I-It is, my love."

You let out a staggering breath that refused to ease itself. You felt panic overwhelming your chest as worst case scenarios played themselves out in your mind, vaguely feeling Aemond reaching for you as panic took over. His words were muffled seemingly beneath water, leaving you staggering for rational thought and breath. Yet none would come to you - could come to you. Your husband had managed control of your weeping form, turning to switch places; leaving you pressed to the wall as he tried to coach you through your interrupted-breathing.

When the initial shock wore off, your hands were gripping his biceps tightly, demanding, "What happened? What did you do? Please, please, Aemond, you're the - you're the only one. The only one who knows the truth. Please, tell me in full, and tell me in truth - what happened to my brothers?"

He nodded, whispering, "It's not going to be easy to hear, my love."

"I need to," you argued, tugging the sleeve of his squeaky-wet leather jerkin. "Tell me, please, I deserve to know. W-What has become of my baby brothers, Aemond? Please tell me! I have a right!"

He nodded, eye tinged red from emotion, admitting, "I arrived in Storms End before your mother's envoy. I brought the King's words but then came reports of another dragon heading in our direction... So, we waited," he swallowed thickly.

"Who was it? Who did my mother send?"

He sighed, "Luke."

"Gods," you whispered, nodding as you sniffled. "So, Luke arrives, and what?"

"I let my anger get the best of me, pet..."

= Storms End // hours prior =

"Where's the bloody Maester!?" Lord Borros demanded, glaring to his court as a man bowed and rushed away to retrieve the one man who could read Rhaenyra's letter.

Aemond did not lift his murderous gaze from Prince Luke's form, making the 14-year-old boy wrap his fist around the hilt of his sword. The Maester jogged into the courtroom, and yet, the Prince did not lift his violet eye from the boy; standing curiously beside a woman with dark hair - assuring the Prince this was one of Borros Baratheon's daughters. Luke found this curious, knowing Aemond was married to his white-haired sister... So, why was he found in low conversation with the pretty Lady Baratheon?

The Maester read the Black Queen Rhaenyra's words, glancing at Luke, before bending at the waist to mutter to Lord Borros the letter's contents. When the words registered, the Baratheon Lord was snarling, "'Remind' me of my father's oath." Thunder rumbled around them. "King Aegon at least came with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact." He looked pointedly to Aemond and his daughter, making Prince Luke's jaw clench. The Lord leaned forward on his 'throne', snarling, "If I do as your mother bids..." His head turned to regard the remaining three daughters left lined up, "Which one of my daughters will you wed... Boy?"

"My Lord... I am not free to marry. I am already betrothed, and by all accounts, Prince Aemond is married to my sister, the Princess Y/N Velaryon."

"She's a Targaryen Princess now, boy, and you should know," Aemond smirked from across the hall, "that taking more than one wife is an honored familial custom."

Borros continued before any more retaliation could be spat, noting to Luke, "So, you come with empty hands. Go home, pup. And tell your Mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes."

Aemond found the response rather poised, decently poetic.

Luke decided to take the diplomatic route and respond, "I shall take your answer to the Queen, my Lord."

Aemond smirked at the response, watching the kid turn to depart the Storm's End hall - but could not resist the confrontation, and called, "Wait..." And when Luke turned, Aemond continued, "My Lord Strong." He watched for a baited reaction, and when Luke turned with anger marring his young features, stalking forward again, Aemond could not hold his tongue any longer. "Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?"

The boy steeled his feet, understanding that he was being baited now. "I will not fight you. I came as a messenger, not a warrior."

"A fight would be little challenge," Aemond taunted. "No," he decided, lips quirked in a smirk. Then, he reached to palm his eye patch off, revealing the gleaming sapphire he used as replacement, "I want you to put out your eye." He paused a moment to stare at the boy, who looked startled from the reveal, then continuing, "As payment for mine." When Luke appeared purely startled, Aemond finished, "One will serve."

He pulled his dagger from his belt and tossed it towards the Prince; letting it clatter to the stone floor in an ominous echo.

"I would not blind you, the only curtesy I would extend on behalf of my sweet wife," Aemond spoke levelly, a clap of thunder punctuating his words. The look of fear over Luke's face was enough to make his blood sing, but still, it wasn't all he wanted, so, he told the boy after tisking his tongue, "Plan to make a gift of it to my mother."

You fucking Mama's boy, Luke raged in his head.

"No," he decided to speak instead, his voice firm in refusal despite the want to crack from pressure.

Aemond spoke over the rumblings of the storm that raged outside, "Then you are craven as well as a traitor."

"Not here!" Lord Borros demanded, seeing the challenge brew to a knew height - and fearing for the rumors surrounding the One Eyed Prince. He knew the other rumors surrounding the loss of his eye, but while many circulated, each had to do with the Princess Rhaenyra's two dark-haired sons.

The tension was nearly tangible.

Something in Aemond snapped, crackled, and popped out of his heart - sending him surging forward as he cried, "Give me your eye, or I will take it, bastard!"

He stooped expertly to snatch up his dagger, standing tall as Luke armed himself with his sword, and the Lord of Storms End rose from his chair, shouting, "Not in my hall!" Only then did Aemond come to a halt, giving Luke a real up-close look at the damage he inflicted as a small child, in defense of his brother and cousins. "The boy came as an envoy!" Borros reminded them all. "I'll not have blood shed beneath my roof. Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon." Thunder clapped, lightning flashed. "Now."

When the four knights who escorted him into the hall moved into action, Luke sheathed his sword, offered his uncle one last stale look, and departed the hall - with another glance over his shoulder as he went. Aemond let his lips pull into a smirk, and his fingers deftly flipped his branded dagger back into its sheath at his hip.

= present // the Dragon Pit =

"All right," you sighed, sitting with Aemond beside you, hip on hip, thigh against thigh, and his arm laid over the seam of your legs and let both of yours hold his. "So, you lost your temper and threatened the boy. Hardly material that would start battles."

"I didn't get to the worst part..."

You sighed, "Does it explain the dragon's odd behavior?"

"I think," he whispered, pressing his lips over your forehead. "I don't think I can tell you more."

"You're going to have to," you sighed. "Though, by the pain it causes you, Gods, do I wish anyone else could explain it. But you know what really happened, my love. I need the truth of the matter."

"You'll get it," he promised, "I just need a moment... Where you don't hate me in full."

"Aemond," you tisked in worry. "Please stop making that assumption. I need the truth, I need the details - you're owed fair judgement. And now, unless Vhagar decides to start talking, only you can tell me. Borros won't, and I imagine the dragons are involved - or Kasta would not be so defensive."

He nodded mutely, leaning in to inhale the top of your head. "I'm truly sorry... Let me start there. A-And it wasn't my intention to hurt anyone, I only wanted t-to frighten the boy. I could not have my revenge for myself, but I wasn't satisfied in it all."

"Might I say something?"

He nodded, glancing at you once before fearing for the intensity behind your eyes. "Your eye, or lack thereof, has never once taken away from you. I know the ridicule you endured, my love, and I am truly sorry for it, and while I cannot undo years of torment and trauma, please understand that I do not find you lacking. I love you, Aemond, with or without your eye."

He sighed and let his hand drift to pull your knees in; letting you lean into his lap in an effort to be closer. "I know neither of us wanted to marry the other initially, but Gods, have I been grateful for it - for you. I need you to know that I do love you, and I am so fucking sorry."

You sighed. "All right, you're sorry, we love each other, we're on the same page. Only... You seem to know what happened, and I cannot help you yet. But for whatever it's worth, while I wish you hadn't, I understand your want for revenge. I am sorry for what my brothers did, and the price you paid."

He sighed against your forehead, "I am sorry for what I did today."

"Let me pass judgement, my love."

With a heavy sigh, Aemond delivered the final, devastating blow. "It was storming profusely - wind, rain, and thunder. The whole lot, making it terrible to see in... Luke had escaped on Arrax but he was tense, flying sporadically, and I know this because Vhagar and I pursued them. I only meant to scare him and give chase, and he was smart enough to dive for the canyons. Vhagar is too big to follow, so, we lost him for a time..."

= Storm Lands // hours prior =

Vhagar stretched her wings to their full span as she and her master flew over the canyon; both searching for the boy riding the terribly small (by comparison), paler dragon. Over the howling winds, sideways rain, and clapping thunder, Aemond called in High Valyrian, "You owe a debt! Boy!"

But there was no visibility, and soon, the thick storm clouds swallowed them whole. Aemond still looked from side to side, and perhaps, his dragon had understood his words; because in the next few moments, everything went perfectly wrong. Having used the clouds and raging storm to their advantage, Arrax and Luke had technically been in the clear, but the smaller dragon rebelled first.

Over the winds, Aemond heard Luke shouting in High Valyrian, "No, Arrax!" The next second, a blast of fire shot out from the pale dragon and seared into the neck, jaw, and face of the much larger dragon of war. The challenge was set, and Aemond heard his nephew as they flew away, "No, Arrax! Obey me!"

But Vhagar had accepted the challenge, and there was no controlling the wild beasts. Aemond felt the shift as his dragon roared with her temper flaring, understanding she meant to pursue, and begged her, "NO! No, no, no, no!" The ancient dragon turned, roaring with challenge. "NO, Vhagar! No! Serve me, Vhagar! No!"

The largest dragon known to the Targaryen world then dove off at a sharp angle, ignoring all commands her rider gave; leaving him struggling and dangling from his saddle as the storm swallowed them. In return, Arrax flew upwards with Luke; breaking through the dark clouds to reach the air above the storm, and for a brief moment, found the beauty in the bright sun above the clouds.

He looked around with heaving breath, praying to the Seven that they had evaded and gotten away from Vhagar - just seconds before the legendary beast was breaking out from the storm clouds to cut at another angle. When she did, she was in line with Arrax, and just as the young Prince Luke gave a shriek of fright, the pursing dragon had opened her jaws and swiftly chomped over the entire body of Arrax.

"VHAGAR!" Aemond's voice cracked with pure panic, feeling powerless on his dragon-mount. "No! No!" He muttered between clenched teeth when the truth of reality settled over him. Vhagar gave another bellow into the air, rightening her wings, and letting Aemond glance over her shoulder to spy the last bloody bits of Arrax' wings and tail-tip falling to the ground below.

As his head turned forward, Aemond's eye began to blink rapidly to restrain his immediate panic - fearing for the repercussions of his dragon, and how his loss of control was sure to be his fault.

= present // the Dragon Pit =

Your lungs protested for air as your heart felt like it was snapping in two, body numb as you could not believe the words that reached your ears. You had doubled over to cry into your pulled-in knees, sobbing helplessly as you rocked slightly to try and keep blood pumping. Your mind refused to accept your baby brother was dead and gone, but your mind screamed that your husband had killed him.

Yet you couldn't feel yourself anymore.

All you could understand was pain. Suffocating confusion.

And then, outrage set in.

"Why?" You demanded through your tears. "Why? Why would you fucking do this, Aemond? Oh, my God - what were you thinking!?"

"I do not know," he mourned quietly. "I am so sorry."

"He was a child," you wept, shaking there after when realization sunk in. "O-Oh, my God, I-I'm pregnant - t-the-they will - they will seek revenge through o-our children. Aemond, for all the Gods, wh-what have you done? What has Vhagar done?"

"The worst we can imagine," he admitted, tears streaming down his cheek. "I cannot express my guilt, my wife."

"For what?" You couldn't help but snap. "Because you fear for the rift it will put between us, or because you are truly sorry for the loss of your own nephew?"

Aemond nodded, whispering, "What if it is both?"

You whined and dropped your head back to your knees and arms. Kasta was heard growling when your sobs reached her, but she did not dare move from between you and Vhagar. It was like she could smell Luke's blood on Vhagar's lips and teeth, and she wanted to protect you from the discovery.

But you had begged Aemond to tell you the truth. You wanted to know... He warned you of the pain, and you still pushed.

And now you were left with the knowledge that your husband's dragon had eaten your baby brother. Luke: sweet, sweet Luke who could do no real harm - barring his adrenaline rush years ago when he used his brother's dagger to slash Aemond's eye out.

Barring that, and he was the sweetest boy who could do no harm!

You were confused and mortified, outraged, sad, overwhelmed, but so fucking regretful. Regret for not being there for him longer, and then guilt for leaving your little brothers. Never had you wanted the burden your mother bore, and luckily, after your marriage to Aemond, she focused 100% of her energy into grooming Jace as her heir.

And Luke was to be heir of Driftmark, the next (legitimate) Lord of the Tides! He was to learn to command a ship and once the Sea Snake was able, he'd learn the ways of the seas from the very best. He was a child who had his whole life ahead of him, leaving behind an older sister, unborn niece-or-nephew, young fiancé, older brother... Loving mother, devoted step-father.

All of whom would be devastated by this news.

How cruel this world was, and how cruel the Gods could be.

"Please," Aemond begged softly.

"What am I to do, Aemond?" You demanded, staring back at him with a range of emotion playing across your face. "My baby brother, Aemond, what am I to do?"

He shook his head, offering, "If you wish to leave, I will not stop you. I understand how this must make you feel and I would help you and Kasta get out best I can - "

"Aemond?" You snapped. "Am I to understand that you are to be away with me?"

He shook his head slightly, "Why would you stay?"

You scoffed, "Does my loyalty to you mean nothing? Why do you think I did not join Princess Rhaenys when she escaped? And stood on that fucking platform beside you, while they crowned your traitorous brother? Do you think so little of me?"

"But this is different," he argued, ignoring your insult.

"It is! It's much different! And I am devastated, heartbroken, and I would think my husband would want to support me - "

"Do you even want me, anymore?" He asked, brows crinkled as he wore desperation well.

"I am bound to you for life, I took vows... Whether I like it or not, my place has been, and is now, at your side. Your brother would sooner see me dead if I were to flee now - "

"I would never let him hurt you," Aemond insisted, letting his hand hold your cheek securely. "Should you wish to return to your mother's side, I understand, and at the least, I can make sure you get out of the city."

You let your lips roll between your teeth to bite for a moment, then spoke softly as you reached up to hold his wrist, "I am unsure what to feel or do. In a perfect world, what would you see us do now?"

"I never would've taken Vhagar out after Luke," he spoke, "so that we never would have to be here."

"Well, we cannot change the fact that your dragon disobeyed you, right?" He nodded stiffly. "You did not have control, did you?"

"I swear to all the Gods - Old and New - that I did not have control and that I tried to stop her best I could. Both Arrax and Vhagar broke free of our control, did their own bidding. Arrax only wanted to protect his master, and so did Vhagar after the fire..."

"So," you sniffled, eyes red and puffy to slowly pull his hand down to hold in his lap, "we can place no real blame on you... Save for your foolish and fucking childish pursuit that started all of it," you sighed, leaning back into the wall and closing your eyes. "Your dragon ate my brother, Aemond."

"I know..."

"She... Ate him," you repeated, knowing the words stung but for a moment, you wanted him to hurt as you did. "There is no body for us to burn! Nothing for us to mourn!"

"I know," he whispered again, leaning back to the wall beside you.

"What am I to do?" You begged, tears falling helplessly. "If I leave you now or ever, I will be a traitor to you and your family, but if I weren't to return to my mother's side, I would be branded a traitor to her and her allies. Please, Aemond. I don't know what to do."

He sighed, sniffling, "I do not know... But should you choose to stay, I promise not to abandon you. I wouldn't ever leave your side, I would be the husband who deserves a wife like you. It would be my duty to make sure your life is easier as you bring life into this world."

You nodded as you wrapped an arm around your swelling belly, "I'd really like for our kid to know their father."

Aemond sighed, pausing for a moment before admitting, "I'd like our child to know our love - not the deception my mother and brother show their spouses."

You nodded, leaning into his shoulder, "I'd like that, too."

"I need to ask the impossible of you, my love," he whispered into the top of your head. "And know that I am sorry for the pain it will cause."

You sighed in defeat and snipped, "Just ask it."

"Would you... Would you please stay?"

The silence almost echoed around you both; his question hanging in the air only to be punctuated by a warning growl from Kasta, watching a shifting Vhagar move for her alcove with the intention of rest. Your eyes flashed in the bright torchlight, and Aemond watched as tears filled them to slide silently down your cheeks. Then he turned his head, and caught sight of a splatter of blood on his dragon's lips, chin, and chest. The silence prolonged around her thundering steps.

•

[ in chronological order: When Pride Married Prejudice // WPMP part two // Petitions // Distraction // The Inky Green Council // Bearer of Bad News ]