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miirohs · 6 months ago

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écoute chérie [c.l.c]

pairing: Mob Boss!Charles Leclerc x Assistant!Reader wc: 3.2k cw: assult, possesive behavior (standard for a mob au at this point), bro straight up kills someone, dubcon (again icarus?), shitty french an: i absolutely cannot write but anyways if this flops i'm deleting it and then crying!!! also do you guys ever just write y/n and put her in predicaments and then go womp womp as if you didn't just do that to her? yeah.

It was fairly obvious from the subtle twitch in his jaw, to the shadow cast over his eyes by strands of his hair falling in front, that he wasn’t happy. From the moment you both had left the guarded gates of his mansion, his face has been set in a stony silence.

You’d seen him glance over at you multiple times during the length of the car ride, and it was becoming harder to ignore his erratic behavior.

Just as he looked away you reached for him, startling him from his distracted state as you moved to fix his suit, readjusting his crooked tie and straightening out the collar of his suit. Immediately you snapped back up to him looking at you, a curious look on his face.

“You should be more careful with your suits.” You chastised softly, snapping back to your seat as the heat rose to your face. “Tossing and turning around like that will probably make it wrinkle up.”

He nodded in agreement, giving you the smallest smile he could muster. You could still see the upset in his eyes as he looked at you, and you came to a slow realization of what might’ve been upsetting him.

“Are you mad with me for coming along with you?”

His smile faded a little, the frustration in his eyes visible. He never wanted this for you, but he knew he couldn’t stop you from coming along, so he resorted to simply reminding you why he didn’t want to bring you.

“Mon coeur, I’m not mad at you at all. I'm just hesitant because I know what my people are like.”

You sighed, readjusting the straps of your dress as you looked at him. “Yes Charles, you’ve made that exceptionally clear but i don’t think you quite had a choice. Carlos didn’t even want to talk about going with you.”

He winced at your tone, tilting his head at you as he bent his own head down to your level. “I know I keep saying this, but you don’t know them like I do. I don't want you leaving my side, not to anywhere I cannot see you chérie. Do you understand?”

You took one of his hands in yours, nodding along to keep his anxiety in check. “Fine, I wasn’t planning on going just anywhere, I came with you because that's my job.”

“And your job is?”

“To be with you, twenty-four seven, whenever you need me.” You said teasingly as a cheeky smile graced his face once again, slightly more genuine than the last.

The car came to a stop, and you looked at each other, turning to the door of the car.

“Ladies first.”

You rolled your eyes at him, obliging to climb out first as the door opened.

Your jaw dropped as you looked up to the entrance of the building. You didn’t think you were quite aware this level of grandeur could be possible, and you were honestly expecting something more inconspicuous.

Linking up his arm in yours, Charles bent down a little as you started walking, whispering into your ear.

“You look surprised. I bet you weren’t expecting this, huh?”

“Surprised doesn’t even begin to cover it. It’s gorgeous.”

“Wait till you see the inside.”

You continued with him, eyes growing wider at the inside.

Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, intricate detailing all over the grand foyer as you surveyed the walls.

Charles walked with you through corridors, once again tensing up, evident in the tightness of his grip on your arm. You could see an ornate set of doors at the end of the hall, approaching them slower and slower.

You paused at the door, looking up to him as he inhaled deeply.

“Are you-”

“Ready? Of course I am.” He didn’t look at you, but you gave no further thought to his words as the doors opened, the crowds of people gathered visible from the mezzanine you both stood on. The ballroom almost glittered, light bouncing off almost every corner of the room.

“Char, if i had known this was going to be fancy, i would’ve dressed up better.” You said, aghast as he shook his head, looking at you with a hint of affection in his smile.

“You’re dazzling no matter what, mon coeur. There’s no need to worry, you’ll be just fine.”

“I- Alright.” You agreed hesitantly, arm slipping from his as you followed him down the stairs.

There were so many bodies on the floor you had a hard time following him, resorting to holding onto his sleeves to navigate through the crowds. He greeted people, and you did the same in his stead, unsure where exactly you were headed. Suddenly, Charles came to a stop in front of you, and you slammed into him, stumbling back slightly.

“Charles, what just happened, I...” You paused as he stood motionless, stepping to peer from behind him.

Another man stood there, head tilted as you curiously as you moved to Charles side. He wore all black, jacket embroidered with flowers and a necklace that resembled a thorn necklace. He seemed fancy, but something about the way he looked at you made it feel like you were being microanalyzed by him.

“Lewis.”

“Charles. A pleasure seeing you again.”

He nodded, relaxing slightly as the man took his hand, shaking it firmly.

“And who might this be?”

You waved, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I’m-”

“She’s my assistant.”

“Char, calm down.” You chided, ignoring how his tone almost instantly seemed to become sharp, nose flaring slightly. Clearly Lewis noticed as well, raising his eyebrow at how his tone seemed to change so suddenly.

“I’m sorry, my name is Y/n. I’m his assistant, as he mentioned before.” He took your hand, offering you a kiss to the knuckles with a smile.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Y/n. Are you new or…?”

“This is her first social event with me.” Charles butt in, arms crossed over as Lewis grinned at him. “Hm, I figured half as much. I haven’t seen much of her around, you should bring her more often. She seems pleasant.”

“Wonderful. Now is there anything else you want?” Charles answered, tone short and clipped as you frowned at his sudden defensiveness. Lewis hummed knowingly, sparing you a glance before he went back to talking to Charles.

“The negotiations are upstairs. We were just waiting for you to start, and I think Carlos got here maybe twenty minutes before you?”

He nodded curtly in response, taking your hand as he started moving.

Lewis looked down at him though as he shook his head, pointing to your hands.

“Sorry to break it to you mate, but she can’t come with us.”

“Why not?” Charles snapped, clearly annoyed by his sudden announcement.

“It’d be better for the both of you. I doubt you want her in on the grizzly details, it would only put her at risk, more so than working for you. Leave one of your guards with her if you want to, although I promise she’ll be just fine here.” He knew he couldn’t argue with that, it was apparent in the way his face fell at the realization.

“I have to go now, but we'll be waiting for you upstairs.” Lewis said as he waved goodbye to you, turning on his heel to leave the both of you alone to the side.

Charles sighed, glowering at the man's back as he turned to you.

“Écoute chérie (listen darling), it seems like Lewis has a point.” He started, reluctance written all over his expression. “So I'm leaving you here with one of the guards. I don't want you to put yourself in any unnecessary danger, so please keep them with you and talk instantly if anything happens.”

You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t disappointed, but it did make sense to you. "I understand, Char, I'll be here when you come back."

He visibly relaxed, though there was still a hint of concern in his eyes. "Thank you, chérie. I promise I won't be long."

You gave him a small smile. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

With a short squeeze of your hand, Charles reluctantly left your side, disappearing into the crowd once more.

Left alone with the guard that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, you took a deep breath, turning around to him.

"Looks like it's just you and me for now," you said, trying to break the ice with the bodyguard, who simply blinked at you.

“Not one to talk much, huh?” He cleared his throat, bashfully turning his eyes away from you.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but i'm pretty sure Mr. Leclerc wouldn’t like me looking at you.” You stifled a sigh, simply flashing a smile at him.

“Would you like to have a drink with me then…?”

“Ollie.” He finished, even more bashful than before as scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “And I'm sorry ma’am. I don’t think I'm allowed to drink on the job, Mr. Leclerc would kill me if something happened to you.”

Awkward silence filled the air as you sighed, looking around the ballroom.

You didn’t think there was anyone you could talk to other than him, so you were stuck with him for the rest of the night.

It wasn’t half bad either, but he followed you quite closely, almost as if carefully noting every single thing you were doing. Even as you made minor convos, he stood beside you, too close for it to be comfortable for either of you. He took his job seriously, a little too seriously, you thought.

At some point, you paused, turning around to him with your hands crossed over your chest.

"Ollie, do you have orders to stand so close? It's making me feel a bit claustrophobic."

He blinked, obviously taken aback by your directness. "I'm sorry miss. I was just told to keep an eye on you, Mr. Leclerc's orders."

You nodded, slight frustration rising up as he mentioned Charles' name. "I appreciate your dedication, but I promise I won't just wander off.”

He hesitated, yet still nodded to your request. "Is there anything I can do then?"

A lightbulb seemed to go off in your head as he asked, a grin stretching across your face as you looked at him.

"I think I'll go get a drink. Would you mind keeping an eye on things here until I come back?"

he relented with a nod, albeit with a hint of concern in his eyes.

"Alright, but please don't wander too far. I'll be right here waiting for you to get back."

You nodded sweetly, yet as soon as you left his field of vision, you grabbed a glass off a tray, pushing gently through the crowds.

You weren’t a lightweight by any means, but there was rarely ever a time where you drank because of your job.

Before you knew it, you’d finished off the glass, abandoning it on the buffet table and grabbing another one as you made your way back into the crowd.

At some point you saw Ollie again, distracted as he talked to two other boys of his same age. You decided not to interrupt, walking past them and slipping through the open doors on the opposite end of the hall.

The air was cool, fragrant from all the flowers planted around the place. As you wandered along the winding paths, you observed the little statues and carefully trimmed hedges, detailing meticulously crafted to fit the vibes of the garden.

But your peace was short-lived, as the unmistakable sound of footsteps grew louder. Turning around, you were met with the leering faces of a group of men, their laughter echoing through the night air as they drunkenly stumbled through the hedges. They were creating a ruckus loud enough to attract a crowd.

You froze, not a sound escaping your lips as you looked at them.

Clearly they hadn’t noticed you, so you took a step back, hoping to get away.

Something snapped under your heel and they all stopped acting buck wild, turning to you with wide eyes.

“Ouh, Qui est cette femme, juste là (ooh, who's that woman right there)?”

Shock ran through your veins as the one who spoke pointed to you, eyes turning towards you in a moment. A couple laughed, one of them whistled, all of them looking you up and down like a piece of meat.

“I think she might be one of those escort people they hire at parties y’know… you think we should greet her?”

Their leering gazes made your skin crawl.

Quickly you turned on your heel, heading in the opposite direction, hoping to lose them quickly as you attempted to get back. Your heart pounded in your chest as you continued, their drunken roasts getting farther from you. You still felt paranoid, but you were pretty sure you had lost them.

As you turned around, a hand shot out from the darkness, grabbing hold of your wrist harshly. You were whirled around to face your assailant, one of the men from the group you’d seen earlier, one of the ones who had whistled at you.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" he sneered, drunken breath hot against your face as he sneered at you, a wicked grin on his face.

He had you cornered against one of the hedges, and you had nowhere to run as he got closer, trying to grab your other hand.

“You’re cute, you think the boss would like it if we sent him back a little present like you-”

You panicked, kicking wildly until you landed a kick to his nuts, breaking free from his grip around your wrists as he staggered back in pain.

“You bitch-!”

The sound of a warning shot silenced his swears of pain, the only thing you could hear now being the buzzing in your ear.

You turned your head, Charles saying something, but you couldn’t exactly hear it as he approached, an angry yet relieved loon on his face.

“Do you know how long we’ve been looking for you?!”

You didn’t respond and he knew why, turning to look across from you at the man who glared at the both of you in anger.

"We'll discuss this later," he said, tone softer this time as he turned his attention back to you, helping you up onto a cold stone bench.

“You. Get lost. Don’t let me see you here ever again.”

"Or what?" The man spat, voice dripping with contempt at Charles' order. "You think you can scare me off with your empty threats?"

“I don’t think it’ll be so empty if i-,” He pulled out his gun from the waistband of his pants, aiming it at the mans groin, then moving to his head, “-happen to give you a demonstration of what exactly happens when you fuck with something of mine.”

The color drained from the man's face. Maybe he had just come to realize who he was fucking with.

“She was yours? I’m sorry, I didn't know!”

“Save it.” He hissed, cocking the gun and aiming it directly at his head. “I’ll make sure that you les fils de putes never see the light of day again.”

It was over in the blink of an eye, with just the sound of a gun being fired, followed by the thumping of a body.

You hadn’t even realized it when he came to you, wrapping his jacket around you as he picked you up, allowing to you bury your face in his neck.

"I've got you," he whispered. "You'll be fine now."

As he turned to exit, Lewis had finally shown up, standing at the entrance with an eyebrow raised at the dead body then you.

“Do i get to ask-”

“No.” Charles answered stonily. voice clearly agitated as he responded to Lewis. “Make sure those creeps get taken care of. I already had the pleasure of taking care of one of them.”

“Duly noted. It was nice seeing you, and you must be busy with… her, so I’ll be off to take care of the others then.” He said, as he signaled to his bodyguards to comb through the area.

“Thank you.” He said begrudgingly as he lifted you up once again.

You could feel him retracing his steps, motion blurred until you stopped at the entrance once more, in front of his car.

Gently, he set you down and you still clung to him, shaking slightly as you climbed into the seat.

He followed after you, directing the man in french as he put an arm around you, pulling you somewhat closer.

“Wh.. what happened to Ollie?”

The look of concern turned to a look of slight annoyance, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

“Even now you’re thinking of someone else, mon coeur. What am i going to do with you?”

You stumbled over your words, yet you were resolute in what you wanted to say.

“Please don’t punish him, i was the one who left him.”

“Don’t worry, no one is getting punished. But you, however-”

You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the barrelage of words to hit you, yet nothing did. Instead, one of his hands came up to hold your face, thumb gently stroking your jaw.

“Mon petit coeur, m'écoutes-tu parfois (sweetheart, do you ever listen to me)?”

You opened your eyes, looking at him.

“Do you have any idea how scared I was? That I thought another man took you from me? I warned you what would happen, and yet you still came. See what happened?” His grip on your jaw tightened slightly, tilting your head upwards so you were looking him in the eyes.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"You have nothing to apologize for, mon coeur. In fact, it should be me who apologizes." he murmured, his voice soothing compared to his actions.

“But then why…?”

“Je t'aime (I love you). It’s because I love you, I want you. More than anything.”

Charles's lips met yours in a kiss, overpowering the adrenaline in your veins as he titled his head, pushing deeper into the kiss. You could feel his overwhelming warmth as he pulled you closer, body to body in the back of the car.

As you broke it off, the heat rose to your face at the string of saliva connecting you both. You tried to pull away but he only seemed to get closer, eye to eye with you.

"Charles?" you breathed, longing erupting like your heart, beating against the cage of your ribs.

“Listen to me chérie, I should’ve never let you go like that. You’re going to be mine now, that way I can keep you safe, Is that clear?” He murmured against your lips, voice dark yet pleading. You couldn’t help but look into his eyes, lovesick and blinded by adoration.

With a soft sigh, you leaned into him, forehead against his as you let yourself be enveloped by the warmth of his embrace.

There was no escaping him. You were his as he was yours. You could never escape, now that he had you like this.

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thatfandomslut · 10 months ago

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Get Her Back!

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Trigger Warnings: messy breakups, toxic relationship talks, jealousy, language,

Request:

Hi can you write a fic about fem!reader being Regina's ex? Like they met and started dating during summer. Reader is from another town/state and Regina spent the summer there over some relatives house and they had a nasty break up but then a few months later reader's family moved to her town and she started at Northshore 😂 she sees Regina acting like a queen b before Regina saw her and she befriends Janis and Ian <3 anyways don't spare us all the drama hehe

Mean Girls requests are open.

(Y/n) sat beside Janis as the crowd parted and four girls made their way through the halls. With raised brows, she looked their way, despite Damian's pleas not to. There was Cady, the girl she had met alongside Janis and Damian in French class, a girl with wavy black hair without a thought behind her eyes, a honey-blonde haired girl who looked around at everyone, and Regina George, her summer fling from Newport, Rhode Island. (Y/n) was surprised to see Regina, and she wasn't expecting her to be so popular. Her icy glare surveyed the room as they landed on (Y/n)'s, widening when they made eye contact. Fortunately, (Y/n) had the sense to sever the contact and sit down.

"What was that?" Damian questioned, looking between her and Regina, who let her eyes latch onto (Y/n) for a few moments longer before she made her way to their usual table. Janis was looking just as expectant at (Y/n), but the girl shrugged innocently. She was new to school, she didn't want to be involved in all of the drama high school had to offer within her first week. "Girl, you better answer. I've never seen the Queen Bee break her icy stare for just anyone."

With a sigh, (Y/n) glanced up at him, then looked to Janis for help. But she was curious to understand their connection, too. "Let's just say that Regina and I met when I was staying at my grandparents and she was staying with her grandparents in Newport, Rhode Island over the summer. She left me at a party I didn't want to attend because a guy flirted with me, then ignored me when I apologized. Even though I was apologizing for something I didn't do. The official breakup was through a text." (Y/n) explained casually as she ate some of her pizza. She ignored the wide stares from Damian and Janis, knowing they had a million questions.

Leaning back, Janis tapped her knuckles dramatically on the table. "Okay, okay, so how did you end up in the same school as her?" She looked like she was going to burst if (Y/n) didn't answer her questions. She was getting so red in the face, that Damian had to remind her to breathe, but his actions were not effective. Janis was just too curious about how their relationship went down.

(Y/n) glanced at her nails before looking over to Janis with risen brows. "Unfortunate circumstances. Our fathers are doing business together." She stated simply. A sigh escaped her lips as she looked at her pizza, losing her appetite. "Regina wasn't all bad. She was just jealous. Like, when I think about her, I'm in between keying her car and making her lunch. Sometimes, I think about her, and I'm still enamored by her, but then I'm like 'No fuck her, she left me at a party for a guy flirting with me.'" (Y/n) hummed as she pushed her tray away slightly.

Now, Janis was going to explode. She already was ruining Regina's life with Cady, but what if she also messed around with her love life a bit, too? After all, that is exactly what Regina did when she had a crush on her in middle school. "It's kind of like… You want to make her feel jealous and sad over her loss." She associated as Damian eyed her. He always seemed to know when she was plotting. She made this face where her smile looked a little more sly than usual and her eyes narrowed.

(Y/n) blinked at Janis's statement as she nodded in understanding. A small, bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Yeah, 'cause I miss the way she kissed me and the way she used to make me laugh even though she didn't deserve me." She agreed before standing up to discard her food and trash. She didn't mean to be wasteful. but she wasn't feeling her meal anymore. She was too busy thinking about her ex who gave her a whirlwind of a summer and then provided a whiplash type of breakup. Thinking about Regina brought back the whirlwind feeling and the whiplash after-effect every time. It made her bitter. Janis could relate to that bitter feeling. She never got over what Regina did to her. From the kiss to 'Sissy Liz,' Regina's actions were inexcusable. "All in all… I want sweet revenge but I want her again, too." (Y/n) admitted shamelessly.

Janis smirked, leaning forward, and taking (Y/n)'s hands. She knew that Regina tensed at this because she saw it from her periphery. "We can make that happen for you. Do you see those girls beside Regina? The girl with big amber eyes is Gretchen, and the girl with wavy black hair is Karen… There's a party next week on Halloween… If you flirt with them, that will set Regina off." Janis stated, biting her lip excitedly. "Hopefully, this will set Regina George straight for you," Janis confirmed, winking at (Y/n). (Y/n) considered this for a moment. Finally nodding, Janis almost squealed before the three got up and headed to their next class.

On the night of Halloween, Janis and Damian helped (Y/n) get ready. And Janis had to try not to stare at herself. She understood why Regina was so into (Y/n). She kind of was, too. (Y/n) turned around in her very revealing devil costume, smiling over at Damian and Janis. "So, what do you think?" She questioned, wiggling her eyebrows over at them to get their opinions. Damian smirked over at her as he nodded in approval, but Janis was too stunned to speak. "I'll take your faces as a sign of approval." She said happily as she kissed the little cape over her shoulders. "I'll come right over once the party is over." (Y/n) promised, heading out the door, but not before blowing them kisses.

Regina was blown away when (Y/n) walked into the party, and she was taken aback when she saw Cady's outfit. Everyone screamed when Cady popped out behind the girl in red, but she couldn't say she was phased. She was used to Cady doing things that were out there. Still, she didn't stop herself from texting Gretchen and asking who invited Cady. Regina rolled her eyes when she saw that Gretchen pointed out Cady's crush on Aaron. This was obvious to her, but still, maybe she could kill two birds with one stone. She could make (Y/n) jealous and Cady miserable. Even though a bigger part of her wondered if making (Y/n) jealous was worth it. Until she turned to see a flustered Gretchen and a confident (Y/n).

Regina realized that (Y/n) was flirting with Gretchen. Her plans on getting Aaron back and making Cady miserable were put on hold, her eye twitching as (Y/N) soon moved over to flirt with Karen, too. Was this a game to her? Before she could react, she bumped into Aaron, who almost spilled his drink all over her. That was when she realized that making (Y/n) jealous was more important than making Cady jealous. "I was just looking for you," Regina smirked as she took Aaron to the side, acutely aware of (Y/n) and Cady staring with wide eyes.

(Y/n) felt annoyed as she watched Regina and Aaron flirt, but her heart sank when Regina kissed him. Her eyes landed on Cady, who looked heartbroken in the distance. Making her way over, she led Cady out of the house and towards Janis's. "Okay, that's it." (Y/n) spoke as she barged in. "We need to go farther. She has now officially gone after Cady, too." (Y/n) said, gesturing to the mess that was Cady right beside her, her thick make-up running down her cheeks as tears helped create pathways for them.

Janis cursed as she pulled Cady into her arms. "I completely agree. Let's run this bitch into the ground. She's always been like this. She takes everything too far." Janis gritted her teeth in frustration. She looked very angry, but (Y/n) was beginning to wonder if it was for Cady or because Regina had wronged her, too.

"So, then what did Regina do to you?" Janis looked up, horrified by the question. Damian's neck also snapped up, but his eyes were trained on Janis. Janis tried to get the attention off of her, but (Y/n) raised her brows. "Janis, this is important information. Cady and I have a reason, but what is for you? Why do you care what happens to Regina George?"

Janis flushed a bright red, realizing she wasn't going to drop it. "I guess I don't want to discuss it." She crossed her arms, falling back onto the couch behind her. Not wanting to make eye contact with anyone she slipped her mask over her face. This caused everyone to glance at each other and Damian shook his head at her. Janis knew that she was acting childish, but she didn't want to tell her new friends what Regina did to her. She was embarrassed about it, and she didn't want to lose her illusion as a confident lesbian.

"Janis, it's time," Damian ignored her protesting as he slammed a box down, grabbing a Bratz doll and a Dora doll. He then went on to explain that, once upon a time, Janis and Regina were best friends. He then went on to explain why they had stopped being friends. He explained how Regina had kissed her at a party, even though she knew how Janis felt, and then he explained how Regina outed her to the party-goers and then her class using a TY baby she named 'Sissy-Liz.' (Y/n) looked at the ground with her brows furrowed. "Now you know, Cady and (Y/n), you can never trust Regina George." And thus the revenge party began.

During lunch on Monday morning, (Y/n) ignored the looks that Regina gave her. She was mad at Regina for hurting Cady in an attempt to make her jealous. She was mad it worked, and she was even more upset that she used Gretchen and Karen to try to make Regina jealous. As Janis sat next to her, (Y/n) smiled at the girl before leaning over to wipe off the paint that smeared over Janis's cheek. At the action, she saw Regina storm out. So, in an attempt to finally talk to Regina, she excused herself and followed the blonde out of the cafeteria. "What's your problem, Regina? What the fuck is up with the Sissy-Liz and why did you kiss Aaron?" (Y/n) questioned loudly, stopping the girl down the hall.

Regina looked around at everyone with a glare, pulling (Y/n) into the classroom beside her, thankful it was empty. (Y/n) stared at her for a long moment as Regina glanced her up and down with a glare. In a weak moment, (Y/n) thought about pushing her against the door she just closed and kiss her. "What's my problem? You're the one flirting with everyone at this damn school. And why do you care who I kiss? You're the one who is all over Janis Imi'ike." Regina said Janis's name in disgust as she narrowed her eyes. Then it clicked in (Y/n) that Regina was, in fact, jealous. "Besides, I only kissed Aaron. It's not like we got back together. We talked that night and he likes Cady, for whatever reason." Regina looked away, pretending not to know why Aaron liked Cady. Everyone knew Cady was incredibly sweet and pretty.

Blinking, (Y/n) shook her head in slight frustration. "Wait, you and Aaron only kissed? Also, when are you going to realize that I only like you? I'm pissed that I still love you. You left me at a fucking party, Regina, but I'm still into you. And no matter how much you hurt me, I still want you. Do you know how fucked up that is for me?" (Y/n) sniffed as she tried to hold back her tears. She was not going to cry over this. Again. She refused to.

Regina's mouth was agape as she forced herself to look away from (Y/n). Her jaw clenched, and she felt her own tears welling in her eyes. Only these were real tears, not the fake tears she usually used on people. "I feel bad about leaving you at that party. I should have never done that. Last night, I had a reflection on the treadmill and I realized… I've hurt a lot of people. Most of all, I hurt you at that party because I was scared you would leave me for that college guy. I want to make it up to them, starting with you. I want a second chance." Regina confessed, not knowing how (Y/n) was going to react. "I want to apologize, first. So, I'm sorry." Regina swallowed thickly.

(Y/n) stood there in silence for a moment, thinking about how Regina had left her, drunk at the party with no one she knew. It had stung, but here Regina was, pulling out the stinger. Nodding slowly, she took Regina's hand, intertwining their fingers. Neither of them looked at each other, the silence becoming louder than either anticipated. "I forgive you, and I'll give you a second chance. But I can't just bounce back to being your girlfriend. You can, however; ask me on a date… I will only accept if you promise to apologize to Cady and Janis though. You don't have to do it this second or even today, but you still need to say sorry." (Y/n) said, her thumb running over Regina's knuckles.

Regina felt a bit odd, feeling soft like this. She knew it was the right thing to do though. She really cared about (Y/n) and hated seeing her and Cady rush to escape the Halloween party because of her actions. So, the expectation of apologizing to the girls was only fair. "Okay, I will. I promise. And thank you." Regina whispered. The two stayed there for long moments before they were finally forced to separate, having skipped their last two periods to stand together in silence. As they left, Regina gave (Y/n)'s hand one final squeeze, ready to try again with her. (Y/n) smiled with a nod, ready to tell Janis, Damian, and Cady all about Regina and her unexpected apology.

#regina george x reader #regina george #mean girls x reader #mean girls

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copperbadge · 4 months ago

Note

Hey Sam! Would you mind sharing the research (or if you're not comfortable with that, your general search terms) you found on children of parents with emotional disregulation? That's been a theme in my own life, but I haven't found good papers about it myself, so I'd be interested in learning more.

Truly, it is a fucking quest.

So, when I initially searched I only really found one good article on what I think of as the "pop psych" side of things:

The Emotionally Dysregulated Parent by The Curious Nerd

It suffers from the problem a lot of pop psych books do, which is that it offers a highly relatable checklist and very few concrete solutions, but I don't want to criticize that because it's also not claiming that offering solutions is the goal. The article is more of a "Hey is this what I'm dealing with? Yes? Okay" kind of a situation.

Also, to preface: there is a fairly fine but visible line dividing "emotionally dysregulated" from "emotionally immature" which I think is why Adult Children Of Emotionally Immature Parents didn't resonate with me as much as it has for some. Dysregulated parents can have a fairly high level of emotional maturity, they just have wildly unpredictable reactions at times because their emotions overwhelm their self-control. So the impact on the child is less visible, and looks less like the forms of abuse or neglect that we're accustomed to.

More research under the cut but also a warning at the very end for some discussion of some pretty heavy stuff -- I'll put a little bold header before that bit so folks know when to stop reading if they want. (No personal accounts of abuse, just a discussion of abusive behaviors.)

I was looking for more articles like the one above and more research papers about the issue, but the problem was that Research came in three flavors:

All our data comes from surveys that parents took about their own dysregulation and the dysregulation of their small children. This is...interesting, I guess, but it's not good data because it's all self-reported and only by the parents.

We are studying emotional dysregulation's impact on the relationship between parents and adult children...but only in situations where the adult child is the dysregulated one. Obviously this isn't helpful and also what the fuck.

A study that affirms that emotionally dysregulated parents raise emotionally dysregulated children. I know these are necessary in order to build a framework for further research but also, you know, water be wet.

What actually helped me was stumbling across a different term during this research: "High Self-Monitoring". This refers to people who, as children, experienced unstable or irregular behavior from their caregivers and who thus developed the habit of constantly monitoring others' behavior, and others' reactions to their behavior, to ensure that they are accepted and approved of.

I never felt comfortable with thinking of myself as hypervigilant because the behaviors of hypervigilance don't match mine, but the behaviors of high self-monitors do, because they're specifically focused on the behaviors of other people in social situations. Remember how I was literally diagnosed as extremely charming? Yeah, high self-monitoring is a huge part of that.

I haven't had a chance to explore this as much. I hesitate to say the below link is helpful, because I think a lot of his suggestions aren't really valid for people with any flavor of neurodiversity, but I do think his exploration of self-monitoring is generally informative:

How to Become Less Self-Conscious by Matt Norman

Relative to high self-monitoring is another term, "Parentification", which refers to a parent investing their child with the responsibility of parenting a sibling or becoming a caregiver for said parent. This is akin to "eldest daughter syndrome" that you may have seen discussed on Tumblr, but more clinically defined and intense (and less gendered). Again, I haven't had a chance to dig into Parentification, so I don't have more to recommend yet.

Discussion of childhood trauma below, specifically incest. Skip to the next bold header if you don't want to read this.

I will say, very frequently you see Parentification paired with another term, emotional incest, which refers to a parent putting their child in the position of a romantic partner but without the physical aspect of incest. It can involve venting to the child about romantic partners or work problems, depending on the child for emotional support, preventing the child from peer activities or age-appropriate friendships because of jealousy, and sometimes physical contact that's not sexual but also not parent-child appropriate.

I think "emotional incest" is a real behavior but also a really ugly term for that behavior, and Therapist agreed. It feels like the term adds stigma simply because incest is such a loaded word. It's something I have seen people use to refer to their own experiences and that's absolutely their call, I am not going to step to anyone who needs it or feels it applies to their situation. But if the term makes you uncomfortable I think that's also justified. In talking about it, Therapist and I reframed it as Boundary Breaking, but I think with a bit of work I can come up with something a bit more specific.

So, just, if you see a discussion of emotional incest I do recommend you have a look because it's an advanced form of parentification and may be something you want to deal with, but be aware the name may feel like it sucks and be ready to uh, deal with that.

Okay, here's the second bold header, you can come back now.

So yeah, my research has been very surface level, in part because once I found all this I wanted to bring it to Therapist for guidance in further research. But I do think that "emotional dysregulation and parents" is sadly not a great search term. You're better off searching for "high self-monitor" or "parentification" and keeping a keen eye out for additional keywords those searches may generate. Good luck...

#not yet fired from therapy #childhood trauma

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matan4il · 7 months ago

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Hello

I saw a comment you made in your post about eurovision that had a statistic of 90% of Jews are Zionists (I think this is what it said but I might be wording it wrong, in which case I'm sorry) and I wanted to know if you had a source for this information? I'm genuinely curious because I don't think I've heard this before.

Hi Nonnie!

It's so funny, that statistic is actually so very commonly recited among Jews, it's a reminder that what we consider "basic knowledge" is often more about our specific environment and experience, rather than a universal principle.

Okay, so to be accurate, this statistic is an estimate based on separate polls and indicators from different Jewish communities around the world, because as far as I know, no one has ever done a global survey on Zionism among Jews. Usually, this would make me somewhat reserved, but honestly, the localized polls and indicators are so consistent, and in every community we find that the overwhelming majority of Jews ARE Zionist, that I think the 90% of Jews are Zionist is somewhere between reliable to possibly even being a bit of an underestimate.

Something I find interesting, is that where they posed two questions, which asked Jews, "Are you a Zionist?" and another that asked, "Do you believe Israel has the right to exist?" the answer was affirmative in higher percentages for the latter. It's a little like the difference between asking, "Are you a feminist?" and "Do you believe women deserve equal rights?" Where the word 'feminist' has been vilified, and distorted, people might hesitate to define themselves that way, despite believing in equal rights for women (even though that's the basic belief of a feminist), answering "no" to the former and "yes" to the latter. Similarly, the belief in Israel's right to exist IS the definition of a Zionist, while the term itself is being demonized. You believe in a right for the Jewish state to exist, just like a state for every other nation has the right to exist, or even just based on the fact that a Jewish state already exists and destroying it would be a disastrous act of ethnic cleansing? Congrats, you're a Zionist. You can be critical of its current government, but you're still a Zionist. It's that simple. The fact that even when people are sometimes reluctant to define themselves as Zionist, they still believe in the fundamental principle of Zionism, is what leads me to believe that even some of these surveys, if they only ask, "Are you a Zionist?" are actually an underrepresentation of how many Jews are Zionist.

I hope this helps! Have a good day!

(for more of my posts regarding antisemitism and Israel, click here)

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jiraisupportgroup · 20 days ago

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˗ˋˏ ♡ Jirai Kei Survey Results ♡ ˎˊ˗

(NOTE!! I re-opened it because I saw some people saying they were sad they didn’t respond!! It’s open again! You can take it here)

Hi hi!!! First of all, I'm so sorry that this took me like an entire month to make, and second of all thank you to everyone who participated in the survey I posted a while ago! It got 89 total responses which is awesome!! So many more than I was expecting, you guys are awesome ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

I've got a spreadsheet of all the answers given in October 2024 here if you want to go view them for yourself ^-^ (I have redacted pronouns and location for privacy sake)

I also went through and read everyone's answers and pulled some of the main points / focuses people had to make into little graphics for simplification and comparison's sake (This is a huge part of why it took so long because I didn't want to misrepresent anyone's points so I went person by person and considered all of their answers and overall vibe before pulling the main points just to make sure I wasn't accidentally changing or misunderstanding their points).

Please keep in mind: 89 people is NOT a large enough sample size to extrapolate this to the entirety of the Jirai Kei community - this is really just an exploration of the people who answered the survey - it does not represent the feelings of the community as a whole. This survey is derived from the western community as the survey is in English and was posted in primarily English-speaking areas.

Also just as a note I messed up when making the selections for the ages and put 18-21 and then 21-25 so people of the age of 21 could have picked either - this isn't ideal but since I messed it up in the original choice options I'm keeping it listed as that because I think changing 21-25 to 22-25 would be disingenuous.

I'm going to go question by question and kind of break it down if you're interested! I'm also going to try and remain mostly neutral and not really put my personal opinions in here. My main goal is to kind of break down what was said in the survey.

Demographics:

It's a pretty good mix of people. Also, hi!!! So many of you are from so far away!!!! That was really exciting to see. To be honest, it was super cool to see how this community encompasses people from all over the world!!! (Also, as a note here, there was one person who answered the survey who was over 40. I included their answers in the 26-30 range just for simplicity sake.)

I also did not make a graphic for the pronouns: primarily she / her, followed by they / them or any / all, followed by he / him or he / they pronouns just in case you were curious. I also took the pronouns out of the original answers document since I know quite a few people use neo-pronouns which are quite unique and I didn't want anyone to see those and connect that person to their answers, I wanted it to remain as anonymous as possible. I redacted the locations for the same reason.

I did not make a graphic for the languages either but those are included in the original answers spreadsheet that I have linked above. Many people speak Japanese, Russian, German, Spanish, and French. Those were the main answers besides English.

I don't have too much to say about the social medias to be honest. Discord, Youtube, and Twitch are likely under-represented in this since they were write-ins and not part of the general selection.

How did you first hear about Jirai Kei?

I don't have a graphic for this one either. It looks like most people learned about it because they already had an interest in j-fashion. A decent number of people mentioned Needy Streamer Overload. Lots of people came from Pinterest, Instagram, TikTok, and Tumblr. Many people also said they were into Menhera and came from there.

How would you describe Jirai Kei to someone who hasn't heard of it before?

Again, no graphic for this one - highly reccommend to go read some of the answers on the linked sheet above. It was pretty split between people talking about the aesthetics & fashion vs people talking about the mental health community. A lot of people mentioned that if they were talking to someone they didn't know very well or who didn't have any knowledge of j-fashion they would say it's a style and move on, while if they were talking to a friend or someone who did know a little more about j-fashion they would talk more about the mental health aspects and history of the subculture.

A few quotes (I'm trying to get a good mixture of opinions in here, please note these are mostly smaller parts of larger answers - this goes for all the quotes added in this post): ♡ "Usually it's easier for me to just send the wikipedia link to people though honestly" ♡ "a subculture of mostly young women with mental illness who share certain interests in jfashion etc..." ♡ "...a lot of ppl often tell me it just sounds like the jp version of emo." ♡ "A subculture for mentally ill people who can’t, won’t, or don’t want to recover" ♡ "depending on my knowledge on their opinions on mental health, i'd either go with a basic explanation of the fashion if they dont seem like the type to be sympathetic of ppl with mental health issues, but if they seem like the sympathetic type, i'd go more into detail of the origins and lifestyle associated with the subculture." ♡ "Being cute despite your mental illness! Also a bit of consumerism and idol worship..." ♡ "It's mainly a stereotype" ♡ "I would recommend watching cybr.grls video on jirai kei " ♡ "It’s an alternative japanese fashion style with frilly, lacey, and dark garments! The main colors it will be are very muted pinks, blacks, grays, whites, or even reds or purples (albeit rare)" ♡ "Jirai Kei is the term used to describe the fashion style related to Jirais / Landmines , which was a derogatory term used to describe mentally ill girls who had an “explosive” personality , wearing cute clothing to distract / hide men from their personality. It usually consists of frills , ribbons and lace , blouses and skirts , with a colour palette of black and muted colour varients like pink and blue , and white. "

To your understanding where does Jirai Kei come from? What's it's history?

Again, no graphic for this one (T-T these are just too complex for me to comfortably break down into bite-size pieces). Most people talked about the Toyoko kids, a bit less talked about host / hostess clubs, and quite a few vague nods to Kabukicho in general. About a fifth of the people just talked about overall mental health in Japan. Interesting mixture of answers - different people seem to latch on to different parts of the origins, which is likely based on what they relate with the most. I was surprised that only a few people mentioned the "Jirai Kei" makeup trend of 2019/2020 - I honestly thought that would be talked about a little bit more ngl. Interesting read for sure.

A few quotes: ♡ "jirai kei became seen as clothes worn by dangerous or unstable women, hence the trend " ♡ "the history between jirai kei && the toyoko kids sometimes get mixed together because of their resemblances , but it's important to note the two are different . jirai kei define an instable person who will explode at some point like a bomb , but you don't know when ( landmine ) . initially , it was mostly used to refer to girls who threaten their boyfriend to kill him or themselves if the boy left them . since jirais are disordered or mentally ill , they often engage in unhealthy behaviours . the toyoko kids on the other hand are teens who ran away from home to live in the streets instead . most of them suffered from abuse && causally have disorders or illnesses . this is where the two subcultures came together to form one : the jirai kei we know now..." ♡ " The clothing style that is most typically seen on social media stems from the fact that these clothes where cute but cheap to come by. " ♡ "Jirai kei as a term originated from misogynistic men calling mentally ill women “explosive.” The style came from poor (unfortunately, often sex workers) youth in Japan. It how we’ve became popularized and somewhat mainstream there after a while." ♡ "then in 2020 people started dressing up in stereotypical "toyoko kid/jirai woman style" to make fun of them before brands saw how popular this trend became and decided to start selling clothes based off this idea. the original style is known as dark girly kei which uses elements from both dark girly and girly kei the latter being a style that was popular with 2010s gyaru and evolved to incorporate french girly and dark girly motifs making it what it is today. other styles such as subcul and suna kei are also extremely popular with jirai to the point of being synonymous with the style." ♡ "...Thus, the fashion style was associate with "Jirai Onna" and became "Jirai Kei". The fashion style extended beyond Kabukicho and many girls and women wear the style in Japan due to the kawaii look and the popularity of the style within many fashion brands. Another demographic that has popularised Jirai Kei is idol fangirls who wore girly kei and jirai kei fashion. The style was also given the term "ryousangata" meaning "mass produced" an insult basically calling the girls who wear the style "basic"."

What do you think differentiates Jirai Kei from other subcultures?

Okay since this is the first type of this graphic we're seeing let me explain what you're looking at. I took key points or words and quantified how many people mentioned it as a larger part of their explanation. There were a LOT of other things mentioned these were just the ones that came up repeatedly.

Many people were confused by this question and said there are too many differences to even describe, which is completely fair. There were two main types of answers to this question. The first is that fashion is what makes it different because it's a fashion-based subculture or if not fashion-based, fashion is a big part of it. The other is that it's a community based around mental health primarily unlike other subcultures which are based on fashion or music. A lot of people who mentioned this went on to say that the thing that differentiates it from Menhera specifically (because menhera is also based in mental and physical health) was the idea that Menhera is very recovery, resource, and awareness focused, while Jirai Kei isn't focused on those things at all and is more so just people looking for a sense of community.

A few quotes: ‪♡ "menhera is art and advocacy focused, jirai is community focused. menhera also is more recovery focused often, whereas jirai places no emphasis on that at all" ‪♡ "Dawg idk how to tell you this… there’s too many examples and they’re all so different" ♡ "For starters, its background story, the clothing doesn't look the same either.... Jirai culture is not really focused on getting better mentally, much on the contrary... being mentally ill is praised, spending an insane amount of money on clothes you don't exactly need is praised...." ‪♡ "I’ve seen jp jirais say that jirai kei is whatever a jirai girl chooses to wear, it can literally be anything. However, at the moment it visually is a combination of menhera and dark girly kei. Because it’s new though, it’s already having subsets form and change that." ♡ "i think jirai is unique in its rejection of the “just get better” culture a lot of places have. Most people think of inability or unwillingness to improve a moral failing. " ‪♡ "Jirai Kei has a distinct history and recognisable style" ♡ "menhera is about finding a community that wishes to accept you and want to encourage you to get better jirai kei is not about wanting to get better thats a very important distinction" ♡ " - idk how to explain??? It’s like asking what differenciates gyaru and goth lol" ♡ "the subcul is definitely viewed in an extremely negative way compared to other subculs, even menhera. I also think that other subculs like Emo, Anime, and Idol culture revolve a lot around the fashion aspect. While jirai is best known for the Dark Girly fashion, i think that jirai in itself, as mentioned before, is more about the lifestyle that we life, our mental health, and the struggles we go through either on purpose or not" ‪♡ "for many i'd say the fashion is what differenciates them. while they can overlap with common traits under the other subcultures, it's still quite different." ♡ "i do believe that the associated fashions (again, not just dark girly, but also tenshi kaiwai, subcul, etc.) are necessary to set a landmine apart from these cultures. the fashions is a huge part of the subculture and sets it apart from these other mental-health based subcultures. that is why i personally believe that a landmine must at least wear the associated fashions OCCASIONALLY to be considered part of the subculture."

What kind of Jirai Kei content do you engage with the most?

This one again, no graphic. Top answer was outfit / coord posts (82%), second most common was vent posts (67.4%), third was dark humour (58.2%)

Are you interested in the fashions associated with Jirai Kei? Which ones?

Again, not too much to say overall about this.

One thing to note is that some of these answers could technically be lumped in with other ones, like "all of them" could be counted towards Dark Girly Kei, Girly Kei, Tenshi Kaiwai, etc but I kept it separate. Same with "Jirai IS the fashion" which could be lumped into Dark Girly Kei but again I kept it separate unless they mentioned it in their answer.

The one that isn't like that is "No Interest" because if someone was of the mind that the fashion is called Jirai Kei and said they weren't interested in the other fashions they're in the "Jirai IS the fashion" count, while the people in the "No Interest" count were of the idea that the name of the fashion is not Jirai Kei and is rather Dark Girly Kei so they have their own count.

What role do you think the asssociated fashions play in Jirai Kei? Do you need to wear them to be considered "Jirai" or part of the community?

Again, this has been vastly simplified but I tried really hard not to misunderstand or misrepresent anyone's points. The categories names are a bit strange so let me explain what I mean by them:

‪♡ "No, it's a lifestyle" - This person believes that you do not have to wear the associated fashions to be part of the Jirai Kei community because it is first and foremost a subculture based around mental health and finding people who relate to you that you can talk to about these things. They also tend to believe "Jirai Kei" is the not proper name for the fashion, and that to be part of the Jirai Kei community you must be either mentally ill or at least open and understanding about mental illness. ‪♡ "No, it's both a lifestyle and a fashion" - This person believes that you do not have to wear the associated fashions to be part of the Jirai Kei community. They tend to believe that Jirai Kei is both a lifestyle and a fashion, and you can participate in either the overarching mental health community based around Jirai Kei or the fashion side of things and be accepted either way. This kind of answer tended to imply that both the people looking for a mental health-related safe space and people who just like the fashion are welcome. ‪♡ "Yes, it's both a lifestyle and a fashion" - This person believes you do have to wear the associated fashions to be part of the Jirai Kei community. They tend to believe that Jirai Kei is the proper title for both the mental health subculture and the overarching fashion and you have to participate in both to be considered part of the Jirai Kei community. ‪♡ "Yes, it's a fashion" - This person believes Jirai Kei is a fashion style, if you wear it, you are welcome in the Jirai Kei community.

A few quotes: ‪♡ "the fashion has almost taken over the community, and overshadows its origins." ‪♡ "I don‘t think the Fashion is the central aspect, but it brings people in. It’s historically speaking a part of Jirai Kei, but not the most inportant thing. You can be Jirai and not dress like it." ‪♡ "Yes to be considered Jirai one should wear the clothing of the subculture they are trying to claim. I don’t think you have to branch out into any jirai substyles though if it’s not your vibe." ‪♡ "No if you're a lifestyle jirai, yes if you're a fashion jirai. If you're a lifestyle jirai I think just wanting to be jirai is enough" ‪♡ "i definitely do think that people who dont wear the fashion can be considered jirai, as thats how the word originally got its meaning, though nowadays its definitely more recognized as a fashion style." ‪♡ "It's just a part of the stereotype because a lot of us happen to wear it not because we need to." ‪♡ "it’s such an enormous part of the subculture that leaving out the fashion aspect makes your “landmineness” indistinguishable from a thousand other subcultures." ‪♡ "i think the fashion gave way to helping people who are mentally unwell or don’t feel good find and outlet to feel better, wether it be makeup, or the clothes for me it makes me feel pretty and distracts from the fact i’m depressed. i think just wearing “jirai” as a fashion or style doesn’t necessarily mean you are unwell though, you can participate and be okay in the head lmao, and ofc be in the community. i think the problem lies within the title of jirai. " ‪♡ "i don't think you necessarily NEED to wear them to be jirai, but i think that an interest in them is pretty important because the fashion and aesthetics are closely intertwined with the subculture " ‪♡ "I actually think the biggest thing to a Jirai look is Jirai makeup. I think as long as you have that, then you are Jirai enough. " ‪♡ "While I don't think you have to wear the fashion to be jirai, the fashion does play a big part in the subculture and people need to acknowledge that. " ‪♡ "to an extent, yes you do, but it's more important just to have an interest in them. nobody needs to wear them 24/7 and if you can't afford clothes then it is what it is, but you can't really call yourself jirai if you have no interest in one of the main aspects of the subculture (the aesthetics)" ‪♡ "nah, as long as u wear alternative fashion and know ur shit and participate in the culture ur fine."

Can non-Japanese people be "Jirai"? Why or why not?

Most people said yes (which is kind of to be expected since this is in English and most of the people who answered are not Japanese so I will note this is biased), but a lot of people brought up different points.

Some of the "yes" pool are people who believe Jirai Kei is just a fashion and brought that up as their point. Some of the "yes" pool are people who are more into the mental health side of things and talked about how people in different countries still experience mental struggles and that's something everyone can relate to in their own way.

The "Yes but it's different" pool is mostly comprised of people talking about the mental health aspects of the community and mentioning that although foreigners can be part of the Jirai Kei community, it is important to understand that the things that many Japanese "Jirai"s go through are things that we will not experience due to the differences in our mental health care resources / infrastructure and the infrastructure of the Japanese sex-work industry. Essentially, we can go through really similar things but the overall cultures make it quite different.

Some Quotes: ‪♡ "yes, especially when a trend originally comes from sex work in which non-japanese people living in japan are overrepresented." ‪♡ "Yes, I’ve seen from the pov’s of Japanese landmines and they are open to it because we’re all supposed to be there for each other because nobody else is" ♡ ‪"Yeah, I think they can be, BUT they shouldn't go around acting like they are the template for what a landmine is, or demanding changes to the culture, just because they wear the fashion and/or are mentally ill. It's roots lie in Japan, so the "originals" are still Japanese Jirais" ‪♡ "of course they can ! never did the term refer to exclusively japanese people . even when the initial term " merged " with the toyoko kids , it didn't make it an exclusively japanese term . as long as you fit the " criterias " , you can be a jirai if you choose to label yourself as one ! ♡" ‪♡ "Nowadays I'd like to consider it a fashion style and fashion styles travel all around the world as long as u don't claim to be japanese cause you are wearing jirai you are good. You should also respect and learn the story of the style before u decide to wear it since it's more troubling than other styles." ‪♡ "Very unlikely. There are many factors that would eliminate most people to be "true Jirai kei" ie. experiencing homelessness as well as involved with sex work and host club addiction. Emily from the suburbs who lives with her family and has depression could not be Jirai kei but can partake in the cool fashion. Calling themselves Jirai would not be up to par with the real meaning of it." ‪♡ "Yes. The Japanese jirais don’t seem to disagree so I’m not sure why I would." ‪♡ "yes of course, its important to say that non japanese people often have different issues as japanese people but that doesnt make them less valid meaning they can still use the style as representation of their own issues" ‪♡ "yes and no. if you disregard the fashion and makeup or frame jirai kei as a "menhera" community when its not then you dont really deserve to call yourself a jirai onna. acknowledging that your generally live a better life because of your privilege of being outside of japan. though i can understand calling yourself a jirai onna if you suffer extremely similar problems to that of toyoko kids especially if you suffer from BPD." ‪♡ "Ofc it's clothes" ‪♡ "Yes, of course! Jirai kei is for anyone and I don't see a reason why people can't participate/ want to gatekeep it. I just think it's important to learn about the history and not be a jerk to those who participate in only the lifestyle or only the fashion part."

What does "Jirai Kei" mean to you personally? Why do you associate with the subculture?

I chose to make a word map for this to kind of point towards some of the most repeated words throughout the answers. A lot of these answers are very sad to read (just a heads up before you start going through them), but that is kind of to be expected. Most people mention mental illness and personal struggles with things like EDs, SH, alcoholism, other unhealthy coping mechanisms, or relationship issues. The thing that really stood out to me was that a majority of the people who are of the idea that "Jirai Kei" is the name of the fashion still brought up how the community feels comforting to them because they struggle with mental illnesses and relationship issues. Very few people just said "I like the clothes", most people also mentioned mental struggles in their answers.

I think that's an important thing to note. It really highlights the fact that you never know what someone is going through behind the screen. You only know what they choose to post, and many people choose to post cute outfit photos and things of that nature, but they still can be hurting behind all of that.

A few quotes: ‪♡ "it’s comforting to identify as one and feel like there’s a subculture out there of people who feel similarly to me. everyone connects with the label in different ways" "I like being able to relate with people and have somewhere to post my vents and get things off my chest without judgment" ‪♡ " i was paranoid for not being mentally ill enough for the community, i was absolutely terrified of making jirais mad at me and being rejected. to this day i am terrified of the day when they decide i did not suffer enough to be a jirai. but such a thought is twisted in and of itself, right?" ‪♡ " I love dressing up as fashion is a major coping mechanism for me and I feel delighted at being able to express myself through clothes: it is an art form. Dressing in the subculture's fashions has allowed me to express myself and come to terms with my experiences and who they made me today." ‪♡ "Funny enough my mom calls me a jirai girl (in a derogatory way since she has a typical older japanese person mindset) but i don't mind saying that i am one without shame. especially because i don't believe that my mental illness is something that should be stigmatized and judged. calling myself jirai feels liberating in a way..." ‪♡ "I feel like because I cannot wear the style (not enough money + sizing is difficult) I cannot call myself Jirai kei but I notice others who don’t wear the style call themselves Jirai, which is comforting. I’ve always struggled with mental health for most of my life and I’ve always loved Jfashion subcultures, so obviously I was drawn to Jirai." ‪♡ " i do think people who just wear dark girly kei should be careful when using the term jirai kei if they aren't in the subculture though. i see people say they're jirai and then mock the mentally ill people like?? you aren't jirai you WEAR jirai kei 💀💀 there is a difference!!" ‪♡ "i am also transgender - my girlhood is very important and nostalgic to me but it is also inseparable from dysphoria and sickness, and i think dark girly/jirai fashion helps me to express that." ‪♡ "I found I appreciated the relaxed attitude towards mental health struggles, nightlife activities and a visual indicator that someone might be a little “dangerous” or someone that likes to party." ‪♡ "when I first started, "I want to become cute!" was a big theme I was seeing. I can be cute even though I'm ugly and have bad mental health and it's ok. the style of the clothes is the biggest appeal." ‪♡ "I honeslty really only associate myself with the fashion aspect of it, since it’s something I really love. So instead of calling myself “Jirai”, I like to say I “dress in Jirai” instead." ‪♡ "To me, it's just the clothes. I don't call myself Jirai by itself because it's insulting"

What would you say the pre-requisites to being part of the Jirai Kei community are?

40% of people mentioned mental illness or struggles as a main part of the subculture. There were different approaches to the way that they mentioned it though. Some people were saying "you should be mentally ill since 'Jirai' is an insult used against mentally ill people and the explosive nature is part of the subculture" and others were saying "If you are mentally healthy you should stay away from Jirai Kei to protect yourself because you're going to see triggering things".

Many people said you don't have to be mentally ill to be part of the community, but you should understand that you are going to be interacting with people who are mentally ill and not bully people for venting. Some people said you have to be mentally ill and not wanting or willing to recover to be part of the community (although this was only 3% of people).

On the other hand, about 16% of people said that the only thing you need to do to be part of the community is wear the clothing.

People who mentioned both mental illness and clothing in their answers were divided into 4 different categories: ‪♡ "Mental illness" - they mention the fashion but state is it not a requirement for the community ‪♡ "Wear the fashion" - they may or may not mention mental illness, but do not think it is a requirement for the community ‪♡ "Wear the clothes AND be mentally ill" - they mention both and think both are required for the community ‪♡ "Wear the clothes OR be mentally ill" - they mention both and think you can either participate in the fashion side of things or the mental health side of things, but you don't have to participate in both.

Many people also mentioned doing the makeup as a big part of it. Some of the people who mentioned makeup as a requirement said that even if you don't wear the clothes as long as you do the makeup you're good.

A lot of people also said if you like the clothes or the community or whatever you're all good, so long as you don't bully anyone. Their general vibe was that anyone is welcome to hang out so long as they aren't mean to others. (Many people counted in the "don't be mean to 'fashion' onlys are also counted in the "don't be mean to 'lifestyle' onlys category as well. And as a note a lot of them didn't use those terms specifically I just used them to shorten "people who only wear the clothing" and "people who only participate in the mental health community" because those are looooooooong titles)

There isn't an overarching general consensus. It is very split and debated. (Which we all know). A lot of people were very passionate about their definitions though, which is to be expected. Mental health is a very touchy and personal topic for a lot of people, so people on both sides have really passionate emotions about it.

A few quotes: ‪♡ "i think people who are mentally healthy should stay away from the community; both so they don’t judge those whose thoughts they don’t understand but also for their own protection and comfort. the topics talked about in jirai spaces are triggering and disturbing. i don’t blame, nor judge jirais forthe abusive behavior neurotypicals could accuse them of — it is often not their fault and a mentally healthy person could easily harm a jirai as well. i think such interactions would end up with mutual suffering on each side." ‪♡ " to call yourself a jirai you need to wear the makeup, the clothes, and suffer from some sort of mental illness especially if your livelihood is often threatened by the fact you have these conditions. and its OKAY to not cal yourself a jirai its NOT A GOOD THING to want to be a jirai mentally ill people who call themselves jirai onna are mentally ill and just find comfort in some form by the title." ‪♡ ". i do feel like these are two separate communities with some overlap, especially with the recent western discourse. i don't like these terms as i feel they are a bit harsh but there is a difference between "fashion only jirai" and "lifestyle jirai". of course anyone can appreciate cool clothes but the landmine side of the community deserves a safe space to talk about their issues and relate to each ‪other without uneducated jirai kei wearers bashing them" ‪♡ "i wouldnt say you necessarily have to be struggling mentally to be considered jirai kei, but i dont personally like the way some fashion only jirais negatively talk about the more lifestyle jirais at times. i also however dont think lifestyle jirais should be actively trying to call people out for being a fashion only jirai. it could end up being quite harmful, as you never really know what people are going through." ‪♡ "You may have a mental illness such as BPD which directly links to the “Explosive Landmine” personality. Otherwise it’s fine to just call yourself a Fashion Landmine and only wear Jirai Kei without “being Jirai”." ‪♡ "It really depends on if someone likes the fashion only, identifies as a jirai (landmine person), or both. Someone who likes the fashion may just say they dress in jirai kei clothes. Also, just because someone identifies themselves as a stereotypical jirai and calls themselves just landmine doesn't always mean they wear the fashion either; although it's more common for someone to do both and straight-up call themselves jirai." ‪♡ "being mentally ill (and i mean... cmon a little more than just depression and anxiety because like all of gen z struggles with that((this isn't the mental illness olympics but this is meant to be a safe space for people struggling with more severe illnesses))) and owning like a few coords that isn't that one DML coord that everyone has and wearing the damn makeup" ‪♡ "I think just respecting the community. You don't have to be "mentally ill enough" to join but you do need to respect people no matter their problems and coping mechanisms." ‪♡ "Hot take but if you’re not a Jirai in Japan you’re not a true Jirai and I don’t mean the fashion I’m talking about life choices . You can wear the fashion without having to call yourself a landmine" ‪♡ "there's no requirement, anyone can wear the fashion. it's just clothes."

Do you feel like there is a difference between "Jirai Kei" and "Landmine Kei"?

Most people said no, which is the kind of idea that I had but I wanted to ask because I have seen people use them in different ways. Most of the people who said yes said that in English-speaking circles Landmine is used more to talk about the mental health aspects of things while Jirai is used more when talking about the fashion or overall community. Which I think is interesting. It seems to me that separating Landmine and Jirai is another way that people try to separate the clothing from the mental health community like the distinction people make between Jirai Kei and Dark Girly Kei fashions. (Anything else I have to say here would go into my own opinions so I'm going to leave it at that - it's an interesting thing to think about).

A few quotes: ♡ "i believe there is a difference between simply wearing jirai kei and being a landmine. people in the english speaking community generally use landmine kei to describe the mentally ill side of the community even though jirai literally means landmine. i only see landmine kei used in context of like the fashion mine vs lifestyle mine debate." ♡ "From my experience, I have seen many English speakers misinterpret the term 'Jirai Kei' and water it down to fashion but, of course, that shouldn't represent all of the English-speakers partaking in the discussion." ♡ "Anywho considering Jirai is a direct translation to Landmine, I don’t see how they could be any different." ♡ "I think Landmine Kei is more dressing up as the stereotype and Jirai Kei is the lifestyle that predates the stereotype." ♡ "I feel like calling it landmine kei does alert people more to the mental health side of the subculture"

What is your favourite part of the Jirai Kei Subculture?

This was a combined question "What is your favourite and least-favourite part of the subculture" and most people skipped the favourites part and started just talking about what they hate which did make me a little bit sad. I really liked reading about what people liked in the community.

Most people said the fashion was their favourite part. Both people who said that Jirai Kei is a mental health-based community and people who said Jirai Kei is a fashion-based community brought up fashion as a favourite part of theirs.

"Community" is a very vague thing - in this context, it mostly means they were talking about how they share a lot in common with people in the community whether that be fashion, idols, music, aesthetics, mental health, etc. However, most of the people who mentioned mental health as a main part of why they love the community are counted in "Safe Space" instead.

A few quotes: ♡ "I have dealt with a ton of ableism and med shaming before irl and in other places online, but never in the jirai community. So it makes me happy that I can vent without people treating me like I'm "crazy" or trying to force dramatic changes onto me." ♡ "I love the clothes so much of course so the aesthetic of the fashion is my favorite." ♡ "The clothes of course, I really loved visiting the clothes shops in Japan. People in Japan are really nice about my clothing and often compliment me when I wear Jirai Kei, plus all of the shopgirls are really kind." ♡ "my fav part is the super cute clothes and how u can meet so many other ppl who not only have the same fashion style, but also similiar/same issues/experiences as you, so you can share pretty much anything with no judging at all!!! ^_^" ♡ "I like having a place where I can be open about the reality of my mental illnesses without being bombarded with “solutions”." ♡ "i love wearing cute outfits, seeing other people's codes and seeing other landmines experiences ." ♡ "the fact that people actually understand how i think / feel most of the time , and that i won't get weird looks / i won't be judged for things" ♡ "Most favourite: people identifying each other and bonding over shared experiences (and of course, the fashion)" ♡ "I love the community as a space for people on all lines of recovery to come together and exist without judgement" ♡ "My favorite part of the subculture is blogs, the fact that the people in the community get to share their thoughts & be related to & validated makes me really happy" ♡ "I love how empowering Jirai Kei makes me feel."

What is your least favourite part of the Jirai Kei subculture?

NOTE BECAUSE SOME OF THEM GOT CUT OFF: ‪♡ "People who say you have to be..." is "People who say you have to be mentally ill" ‪♡ "People who use mental illness as an..." is "people who use mental illness as an excuse to be mean" ‪♡ "People who say you have to buy" is "people who say you have to buy certain brands"

The top answer was fashion Jirais. This is a combination of people who specifically said the term "Fashion Jirai" and people who said things like "people who only wear the clothes" or "people who think the community is just cute clothes and ignore the mental illness aspect of it". I combined those into the same count.

"Anti-recovery" as a category is more than just people talking about how recovery isn't front and centre like Menhera, or people talking about venting - it is specifically people who talked about people who say you cannot be in recovery if you are part of the Jirai Kei community.

"Glamorization of Sh/Ed" also is more than just people talking about posts that talk about those things, it is people who specifically said it is over-romanticized / glamourized. And as a note this is different from "lifestyle Jirais" since that category includes people that are just talking about vent posts or mention "lifestyle jirai"s by name.

"Lifestyle Jirais" and "People who don't wear the clothes" are also two different categories, lifestyle jirais is either people who said that by name or were talking about people who vent or think the community is mental-health based, and "people who don't wear the clothes" is just that, it's the people who specifically called that out.

I don't have too much to add here since I can't really add anything here without stating my personal opinions which isn't what I'm trying to do right now. I did find it comforting that most other people are sick of the discourse, and it's both people who think Jirai Kei is fashion-based and people who think Jirai Kei is mental health-based that were saying this.

A few quotes: ♡ "But there are legit people on here who act like you're 'fake' if you aren't attempting suicide every hour or something lmao" ♡ "i'm sick of sharing my safe space with people who think it's just a pink blouse and some short skirts and a bow." ♡ "putting a label on jirai that you have to act a certain way seems wrong. some rules and bashing on other girls wanting to wear the fashion is very wrong too." ♡ "i’m simply utterly terrified of rejection." ♡ "My least favorite would probably have to be those who promote self harm or say you have to engage in some sort of dangerous stuff to be a part of the subculture. While many of us do struggle with these things, it's super unnecessary to push people (mostly the fashion only jirai keis) to harm themselves." ♡ "least fav is that there are a lot of gatekeepers who want you to prove that you're actually mentally ill or they turn it into a competition of who's suffering the most. I also don't like how many jirai are anti recovery if someone chooses to recover (not forced, but their own choice). and I don't like that there are some really young kids in the community, like 13 and under" ♡ "I hate the people who slap a random pink shirt on and a black mini skirt and call it jirai because it’s not. Jirai is so much more than pink and black." ♡ "least fav is probably the fact how some ppl will say the most vile shit ever and use the fact that theyre a jirai as an excuse (it can always be a reason for said behavior, but never an excuse!! 😭😭)" ♡ "fashion "jirais". i don't like discourse at all , but i really wish people would understand the whole point of jirai kei before calling themselves a landmine :(" ♡ "the least, however, are the people who say you "dont need to be mentally ill to call yourself jirai" which is just ridiculous" ♡ "I don't like the narrative that we have to buy from the original designer or it's not Jirai, that's just buying into what the fashion industry wants you to think. A fashion is a style, not a designer brand. Quite frankly I just don't like being limited to certain brands." ♡ "Constant discourse (assuming that people can't resonate with the subcul just because they're not as vocal about their experiences as the others PLUS the bullying of actual people who struggle for venting when that is the core of this subcul)" ♡ "i wish it was more mature because many jirai people are in their early teens (12-14) and i feel the need to act as a role model in spaces that include minors, rather than speaking freely as i would normally among people closer to my age" ♡ "least favourite: weird gatekeeping (eg. "you can't wear jirai kei because you're not mentally ill""), shaming peoples looks and fatshaming in general" ♡ "My least favorite is the ones who say you have to be anti-recovery to be jirai. It's okay to be tired of hurting." ♡ "i detest the infighting, and the way that it's rapidly growing is kind of pissing me off because im more comfortable in smaller communities" ♡ "As for least favourite, glorification of ED and SH (I must note, glorification, not just the fact people discuss/have it in the community) as well as the fatphobia and such"

Overall very interesting read and very mixed responses, but also not actually as mixed as I thought they would be. Most people landed somewhere in the middle where they considered both fashion and mental health to be parts of the subculture and just had different levels of importance for those two things. Most people also did mention mental health being part of their reasoning for being here, whether they engage more in the fashion side of things or the mental health side of things.

If there are any clarifying questions about what the titles of things in these graphs really mean or why I chose to break things down in the way that I did I am more than happy to provide clarification to that! I'll try to respond to any comments like that as soon as I can. I won't be engaging in discourse or defending any points or anything (at least not here) - this is more about the answers to the survey and not my personal opinions so pls understand T-T.

If you read all that mess thank you! Took me a while to actually get all of this compiled. If you didn't thank you regardless! Especially if you responded in the survey to begin with ♡

Also if anyone is uncomfortable with their answer being posted in the answers document please contact me either on Tumblr @jiraisupportgroup or on Reddit @ Mara-melody (DMs should be open on both) with the details about which response was yours and I will delete it from the publicly available document! Thank you!!

#jirai kei #jiraiblr #poll #poll results #i don't know how to tag this to be honest #mara is yapping??? but its not really *MY* yappings #I'll tag it anyway #mara is yapping #Jirai talk

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greycaelum · 1 year ago

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Cursedtales Collections—La Luna Chapters: { Trick or Treat }

—Vampire Duke Gojo Satoru X Vampire Reader

❦︎ Précis:

"You got your cookie. Now I want mine." He drops a butterfly-soft kiss on the hollow of your collarbone before traveling down to your thighs.

❦︎ Genre: vampire, fantasy, royalty

❦︎ WC/CW/TW: (1.2k)/ blood, biting, blood-sucking, Grand Duke being an opportunistic hungry vampire, Grand Duke and his subtle love languages

❦︎ A/N: Don't ask me about Lycan Sukuna's Halloween, I might end up feeding him to the dogs instead—Grey,

"Trick or Treat?" You crouched down with the chamberkeepers who were busy doing jobs.

"M-My Lady, please, let me get you a chair. No need to crouch down. The soot might get onto you." One of the maids was alarmed seeing you crouch down with them and possibly hurting yourself in any way possible. Who knows if the Master is in a lousy mood and fired them because you got hurt in any way possible? The eldest maid sighed.

"I'm fine, anyway. What's a trick or treat?" You stopped her. Satoru's overprotectiveness of you seems to have rubbed into everyone in the Ducal Palace.

"Oh, it's a human tradition, where kids go around with a basket, asking people..." The younger maid explained to you, and everyone else seems to know such a thing except you, who was once a human.

So here you are, holding a basket, walking over to a particular room at the far end of the East Wing.

It's a strange concept for you. As far as memory goes, you have never left the snowy mountains, and the sight of other humans that wandered through the vast plains of snow is tragically zero until Satoru came. As for His Grace, the chamber keepers already told you he has never once shown interest in such festivities, even when he was a child, so it's unlikely for him even to know such human traditions.

That's quite something Satoru would do. You thought. You can imagine some kid approaching him exclaiming a trick or treat, only to be shot down by his icy glare. You covered your mouth as you chuckled. Indeed, that's something that will happen. However, you're curious about his reaction if it was you.

You knocked, a single and double tune which you have grown accustomed to, and almost everyone knows that tune of knock can only be from you.

You tried to knock a second time, but the door opened, and before you could speak, you were drawn into a tight embrace. A soft sigh lingered in your neck as an arm wrapped around your waist. Perhaps minutes passed or a few more until he spoke.

"Everyone seems to be busy and making a lot of noise. It's making my ears hurt." Satoru pulled you into his office and closed the door. His eyes surveyed you, and you couldn't miss the slight raise of his brow when his eyes landed on the basket in your hand.

"Trick or Treat!" You exclaimed before your mate could speak and pushed the basket towards him.

A poignant pause passed. You couldn't see his reaction because, for some reason, you don't know you closed your eyes.

"... Well, aren't you supposed to open your eyes?"

You looked up to Satoru, a bit embarrassed as you sheepishly laughed and brought the basket back, clutched to your chest. Gosh, you should've known better than to—

You felt the basket sink a little. Satoru retracted his hands and hummed.

"Why did you take the basket back?" He asks.

Inside the basket is a pack of cookies, oddly shaped like a kitten...

You looked up to him in surprise. His Grace shrugged and softly pushed your shoulders to direct you to the couch.

"What's with the surprised face, Kitten?" Satoru chuckles. "Afraid to eat the cookies?"

He's just teasing you. He sat across you, putting the pack of cookies on your palm while taking away the basket and setting it on the table. His hand took your feet, removing your shoes while softly massaging your ankles on his lap.

"So you actually know what a Trick or Treat is, Your Grace."

His Grace incredulously snorted at the remark. He raises a brow at you.

"Do I look that old not to know such childish pranks?"

"Well, you are old!" You giggled as you tried the cookies that tasted divine. Small chirps of delight fluttered from your lips as you made sure not to waste a crumb.

Unfortunately for you, you missed the dangerous glint from His Grace's eyes at the way you bite on that cookie and the way you are unconsciously making those heavenly sighs and munching.

"Oomph!"

The next thing you know is that you're pinned down on the couch. Your mate's breath lingered over your neck while his hand slowly bunched your skirt up to your waist, revealing your supple thighs to his glowing eyes.

"You got your cookie. Now I want mine." He drops a butterfly-soft kiss on the hollow of your collarbone before traveling down to your thighs.

"W-Wait! That's not a cookie!" How could you not ever learn? You gasp, feeling the way his bared fangs drag across your sensitive inner thighs, teasing you with the tingling sensation. Satoru removed his gloves so he could caress the back of your legs, kneading your full, velvety thighs as he nipped and sucked on them until you writhed underneath his touch.

Satoru chuckled and kissed the bite mark from last night that had yet to disappear.

"You are sweeter than any candy..."

"Ngh!"

His sharp fangs sink into your inner thighs. It was mind-numbing how his tongue lapped up any trickle of blood that tried to escape from him. He moaned at how sweet and full your blood tasted on his palate, filling in his greedy thirst as he kept sucking and lapping up in your thighs. The gasps and moans you added were more than enough to entice him even more in teasing you with his soft kisses between his licks.

Through your half-lidded eyes, you could see the grin on His Grace's lips as he licked the last of your blood. His bite mark closed up, leaving but two faint marks of his fangs to remind you how he just enjoyed his treat.

His Grace wipes the droplet of your blood from the corner of his lips and sucks on it one last time before pulling up his clothes, exposing to you his glorious body, rigid muscles, and enticing veins tracing his body hardened by battle scars like art. His thumb softly brushed through your cheeks as you panted sweetly underneath him. He can't help but chuckle and kiss the tip of your nose in silent adoration. His arms flex as he cajoles your tired body to sit on top of his lap.

"C'mere, Kitten, I'll feed you something sweeter."

Needless to say, His Grace has a different kind of Trick or Treat tradition engraved in his mind. Consequently, the chamber keepers got a generous raise after that Halloween season...

—GreyCaelum,

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out more on La Luna Chapters and the Masterlist

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned, image(s) and song(s) used belong to their respective owner(s).

General & Cursedtales Collection Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @saoney @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @rizzmin @emichou-chan

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asumofwords · 1 year ago

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The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Angst, self worth issues, angst angst angst, fighting, yelling, tension, gods the fucking tension, smut, creampie, big feels, drinking, drug use (weed).

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Is this chapter 11.4k because I didn't want to split it up into two parts and I'm determined to keep this series at 15 chapters? Yes. Is it smart? No. Am I stubborn? Yes. Look it's a long ass chapter, but I hope that means it makes up for the late post, however I will say this, I have finished writing sublet, so the final chapter will come in a few days! And then, THEN, I shall get to your naughty little requests hehe. If you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, no you didn't. Enjoy ! <3

Chapter 14: Over the Edge

Warm rays of the suns light beat down on your body as you lay by the pool, a cool breeze rolling through the estate causing the drops of water on your skin to cool you down. There were few clouds in the sky, and the air around you was filled with the laughter and splashing of the boys in the pool.

Daeron sat astride Aegon’s shoulders as he wrestled with Lucerys; who sat atop Jacaerys’. Their fingers were interlocked as they tried to push each other off their brothers shoulders, shouts, grunts and encouragement being yelled by Baela and Rhaena who watched on beside you and Helaena in the sun.

The day had breezed by, and as a group, you had made rounds to the kitchen to fix yourselves cocktails and snacks.

Reaching beside you for the gin and juice drink you had made, you found only the remnants of melted ice at the bottom. You surveyed everyone else’s glasses, the boys beer bottles empty beside their chairs.

Standing, you asked if the girls wanted anything to drink. Rhaena looked up at you lazily, eyes squinting in the bright sunlight as Baela did the same, though the elder stood and came to your side, eyes skimming the empty glasses.

“I’ll help.” She offered.

You gave her a wide smile, “Thanks Bae.”

Helaena however, did not look up at you to answer your question, her drink beside her half drunk and half melted, most likely warmed by the sun. Slim pale fingers held her phone, speedily shooting off texts to someone, too engrossed in looking at her phone to have noticed you asked her a question.

“Hel.” You tried to garner her attention, watching as her eyebrows lightly lifted, eyes still on the screen.

“Huh?” She murmured, thumbs flying across the keyboard.

Helaena was wearing a daffodil yellow one piece that had small brown flowers printed onto it, her large floppy hat atop her head again to protect her face and shoulders from the sun, with large round glasses that had slid halfway down her nose, eyes peering over the top of them as she furiously text someone back, bottom lip pulled into her mouth by her teeth.

You clicked your fingers in her face, “Hello? I said do you want anything to drink?”

Helaena finally tore her eyes away from her phone, and you watched as she swallowed thickly when she met your eyes.

Worry struck inside of you.

Had something happened?

Rhaena and Baela sensed her change in demeanour, though neither said anything, and turned to face the boys, asking what they wanted to drink instead. Aegon, half tilted in the water as Daeron slapped away Lucerys' hand that grabbed at his shoulder, asked through gritted teeth for a Pina Colada, the weight of his brother taking a toll on him. The others settled for beer.

“I’ll have what Aegon is having.” You told the girls, watching as they went inside, casting a curious glance back at you and their cousin.

Shifting, you stepped closer to Helaena, watching as her eyes flitted to her phone as it vibrated in her palm twice before back up at you. She looked guilty, nervous, and perhaps even a bit worried.

“Hel? What's going on?” You probed, sitting down beside her on the bed, “Don’t tell me you and Sara are fighting?”

You hoped that they weren’t, and instead wished that they would get back together again. Helaena evened Sara out, and Sara did the same for Hel. They really were a good match, and you had never seen Helaena so happy until she was with her ex lover.

Violet eyes met yours, then away to the lit screen, then back up to yours.

Her avoidance was making you nervous.

Lips parted, and then came your answer.

“Aemond’s coming.” Helaena confessed sheepishly, and you felt your heart immediately begin to race.

Your mouth felt dry, and a knot began to form in your stomach.

Aemond was coming.

Here.

To the Red Keep.

“What?” Disbelief in your voice.

Helaena said he would never come here.

Your best friend looked suddenly guilty, eyes looking anywhere but you, “Yeah.” She said quietly, “He’s on a flight here.”

And then it made sense.

“You told him I was here.”

It wasn’t a question.

She locked her phone with a press of her thumb, turning it face down beside her on the tanning bed, “I did.”

The words put a sour taste in your mouth.

“What? Helaena, I can’t see him.” You shook your head, fluttering feeling in both your chest and your gut.

The Targaryen woman frowned at you sadly, watching you as you stood, wringing your fingers together.

“I think you should hear him out.” She whispered, but you were too anxious and annoyed to reason with her in that moment.

She had told him you were here.

Stepping away from her, you frowned, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

The rest of the day was filled with heightened anxiety after Helaena confessed that her brother would be arriving to the Red Keep. You had left her by the pool, feeling all eyes on you as you stormed back inside.

You knew it was likely childish, but you felt sick to your stomach knowing that he would turn up, and that you would have to pretend to everyone around that nothing had happened between the two of you. That you couldn’t even tell them what had happened. That you would have to pretend to be little more than strangers who simply shared a space, and that was it.

The only person there who knew the truth of it was Helaena.

And despite the small piece inside of you that missed him, that yearned to see him again, it was quickly squashed with the way your stomach turned in on itself, mind reeling with an array of ‘what if’s’ about what the silver haired man had gotten up to in your absence.

Had Alys come back?

Did she stay the night?

Had she been there ever since?

Did he do the things he did to you to her in your own home? On your couch?

But then a more unsettling thought popped into your mind.

Had she hurt him?

Had she made him feel weak? Like he couldn’t escape?

Had she taken away the smiles that you craved to see?

It was all too much, and you had to take deep and calming breaths to try and beat the tears that began to prickle in the corner of your eyes.

Why was this so difficult? Why were you so hurt by this? Why did you care so much?

You had made it to her bathroom, and that was where Helaena found you, hunched over the double sinked basin in her ensuite, eyes shut as you breathed deeply through your nose.

“Hey.” You heard her approach. You straightened, blinking the tears away, your reflection joined by hers blurry in front of you, “I’m sorry.” She whispered.

You shook your head, turning to face her.

Why was she sorry?

This was their home, not yours.

“You don’t need to say sorry to me.”

Her light brows furrowed as she came towards you, “He was worried about you. Didn’t know where you were.” She explained, making you feel guilty for your reaction to not only his messages, but her telling him where you were, “I only told him because he wouldn’t stop asking. He knew you weren’t at Cregan’s. I didn’t think that he would come.”

Aemond was worried about you.

But how did he know you weren’t with Cregan?

“Look,” Helaena sighed, stepping closer to you, “He wouldn’t come here if it wasn’t important.”

“Your father dying seems pretty important to me.”

You regretted the words immediately as they came out of your mouth. You didn’t say it to be mean, or to hurt her, it was just a statement of fact.

Helaena simply sighed again, “Yeah, and has he been here? No. He’s coming for you. And you’re going to hear him out.”

“Hel-“

“-No. You will. He’s coming all this way, to a place he didn’t want to come to. It’s…triggering for him. At least do him this one act of kindness and listen to what he has to say when he arrives.”

Listen to him when he arrives.

That was easier said than done.

Every fibre in your being told you to tuck tail and run.

He will probably tell you that whatever you had wasn’t real, and that he was in fact back with Alys. That he was moving back to Harrenhal with her, and that you would never see him again, bar an occasional gathering with the rest of his siblings where he would probably ask you to keep whatever little tryst you had secret from the others in order to keep the peace.

And you would agree to it, for him.

But hearing those things from him was something you didn’t want to hear. You didn’t want to feel lesser than you already did. You didn’t want to have to lay in bed each night when he leaves, picking yourself apart in comparison with her. You didn’t want to know that you would never be enough for him, and she would.

You blinked at Helaena. You didn’t want to cause her anymore grief. But by staying here, and having to talk to him, to hear his rejection face to face, you didn’t know if you could do it without breaking down.

You breathed in deeply before exhaling.

In.

Out.

“There’s nothing to say.” You shook your head, “Alys was on our couch, judging our home, Hel. Judging me. And he let her. There is nothing between us besides something physical.”

Those eyes you adored stared at you, narrowing slightly.

Time stretched uncomfortably between the two of you as she didn’t respond to your terrible lie.

She knew you were lying.

You knew you were lying.

There was no denying it, the feelings you had for him. Not to her at least. Not with her spooky intuition that she had. Nor the way you reacted when you thought of him, or how you had fled to her family home in a moment of crisis because his ex had been on your couch, hand on his thigh.

The image made your chest light with jealousy and hurt.

You walked past Helaena and into the bedroom, eager to get away from her all seeing eyes, plopping down onto her bed heavily, stomach feeling as though it was full of stones. Had the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood come into the room in the dark of night and fill you with rocks? Or was it just the more rational, and far more nerve-racking reality that you would have to come face to face with someone who you liked, more than a friend, and deal with the impending rejection and subsequent end.

That’s why he was coming.

To end whatever the two of you had.

That was it.

You picked up your phone from the side table, forgotten once again, to see another 4 messages from Aemond, asking where you were and if you were safe. The last of the messages stating that you weren’t at Cregan’s, and he that he was calling Helaena.

His sister stood in front of you again, this time, with her arms crossed.

“You’re going to hear him out.” She stated, voice stern and steady.

Here was the rarer side of Helaena, a side that Sara had taught to her. A side in which you knew meant business. You searched her face for any sort of wriggle room.

There was none.

She continued, “And if you don’t like what you hear, then you can go home.”

You breathed deeply once more, in through your nose, out through your mouth, resigned to your fate.

“Fine.”

Helaena smiled at you gratefully, “Good.” Her tone was lighter, arms uncrossing in front of her chest. You could see a wave of relief flit over her body, and you felt some sort of calm knowing that she was happy with your, though forced, answer. “I think he deserves a chance to have a voice after so long without it.”

Helaena dragged you back down to the pool, Aegon eyeing you warily before handing you your half melted Pina Colada. You took it gratefully, plonking down on the bed beside him, sipping at it deeply.

If you were going to get through his arrival, you would need something to soothe your nerves.

And some liquid courage.

If Aegon knew anything about his brothers soon to be arrival, he didn’t say anything, but you could tell by the way his lilac eyes surveyed your face and posture, that either Helaena had told him of her plans before hand, or perhaps he had been told by Aemond himself.

You didn’t want to know either way.

You were not about to draw attention to it.

You complimented the twins on their cocktail making skills, and spent the rest of the afternoon by the poolside with everyone. You had smiled and giggled and joined in on the fun, the drinks helping somewhat to calm your nerves, however as the sun began to set, and Helaena escorted you back to her room to get ready for dinner that evening, anxiety reared its ugly head inside of you once more.

Helaena gave you another dress to wear, less done up than the one before, which made you think that the job proposal was perhaps far more orchestrated than you had realised. Tonight’s dress was a warm black, with short sleeves that sat off the shoulders with a Bateau neck. It was floor length, light rippling layers of differing lengths towards the bottom that were sheer and moved like waves.

Why these families always had to dress up for dinner in their own homes, you had no idea, but it felt as though there was some sort of silent ‘holier than thou’ competition between them all.

You had pulled your hair away from your face, and eventually made your way down to have dinner with the family again. You moved to go outside to the dining table in the back, but Helaena steered you differently, taking you to a small (if you could call it that despite it being larger than your flat), ‘intimate’, Helaena’s words, not yours, dining room.

Rhaenyra and Daemon sat beside an empty, larger, much older chair. One you assumed would have been Viserys’ usual spot it he was well enough to join. Jacaerys and Baela sat up the end with Rhaena and Baela, and Daeron was looking at his on the other end phone in his lap.

Aegon and Alicent were nowhere to be seen.

Aemond, also absent.

You sat beside Jacaerys, Helaena beside you, and greeted all with a small smile. It felt easy, being in their presence, and with the majority of the Hightower kin being missing, the tension in the room was almost nonexistent.

“Have you thought more on our offer?” Rhaenyra asked sweetly, sipping at her wine as Daemon held her hand on the table.

You tucked yourself into the dining table, “I have, I-“

Footsteps and a hissing whisper came from behind, and all seated at the table turned to watch as Alicent guided her sons into the room.

Both of her eldest sons.

His eye immediately found yours, and your heart skipped a beat in your chest, breath stilling in your throat. He was dressed in all black as usual, but more formal, likely for his mother and for the meal with family. He wore black slacks with a black dress shirt, three buttons undone at the top so that you could see the sliver of the silver chain he always wore. Aemond’s hair was up in a low bun at the back of his head, small wisps falling around his face with some tucked behind his ears.

His violet gaze pierced yours, and you turned away sharply, shifting your attention to the centre of the table, looking at the flickering of one of the many candles in the room.

Oh yes, very interesting.

What a lovely candle.

Definitely attention grabbing.

Aemond seated himself at one end of the table, Lucerys shifting at the other end as he too avoided his uncles gaze. Daeron seat was a seat away from his mother, who sat in the chair at the head of the table, the one that was usually reserved for Viserys.

Aegon, beside Helaena.

And there it was. The tension again.

But it was riper than usual.

Thicker.

And you couldn’t help but notice that perhaps it had something to with the fact that there was a certain member who had returned, that all others had not expected to see.

The heat of his gaze warmed the side of your face, and you couldn’t help but feel anxiety pull sharply at your gut.

Do you say hello?

Do you ignore him?

What do you do?

If you didn’t do something, they would know something had happened. All knew you were living together, the least you could so was give him a smile.

So biting your cheek, you turned to land your gaze upon the man you had fled from, watching as his chest rose sharply when you locked eyes.

“Aemond.” You greeted him, though your voice sounded slightly strained, and the smile that pulled at your lips looked more like a grimace.

His eye softened at the sound of your voice, his head tipping towards you in acknowledgment.

A pressure moved to your thigh, and you pulled your eyes away from the man at the end of the table to the woman beside you. Helaena had her hand gripping your thigh, a soft reassurance and act of comfort.

“Rhaenyra.” Alicent greeted her step daughter, tone warmer than the last time.

Rhaenyra turned the top half of her body towards the woman. Open, responsive, listening.

“Ali.” Her violet gaze moved further along the table, settling on her half-brother, “Aemond, I didn’t know you would be coming. How is Harrenhal?”

You sucked air sharply through your mouth, feeling uncomfortable for both Aemond and yourself.

You looked back at the candle, watching the flame flicker.

Do not look at him.

Do not-

“I left.”

Blunt.

Emotionless.

Straight to the point with no room for her to continue the conversation.

All at the table felt the air crackle as an uncomfortable energy shifted around the room.

“Your talents were wasted there.” Rhaenyra spoke again, voice calm and un-probing in the way they were delivered, “Will you be resuming your studies?”

The orange flame flickered gently, and there was a pregnant pause that filled the dining room before Aemond answered.

“Yes.”

Although he was speaking with Rhaenyra, you knew just by the goosebumps that erupted on your skin that he had not once taken his eye off you. If Rhaenyra was annoyed by her brothers lack of response, she didn’t show it, and instead took it in stride, giving him a soft smile before turning her attention to the auburn haired woman beside her.

The dinner felt as though it went for hours, when in reality, shortly after Alicent and her sons were seated, food began to be placed upon the table. Entrees, sides, mains, and then finally dessert, and yet not once, did he take his full attention from you. And not only that, the tension between him and his nephews made for a more uncomfortable dinner than it already was.

You could now see why Helaena avoided visiting her family.

Lucerys would occasionally sneak glances at his uncle, but Aemond would only meet his gaze for a moment before returning it back to you. But his watching didn't go unnoticed.

More than once, Daemon and Rhaenyra would give you and then Aemond shared looks, and Daemon on one occasion, flat out laughed, clearly enjoying the train wreck of tension that was the evening.

When dessert was placed in front of you, a fluffy pavlova with passion fruit and differing berries, you found you didn’t have the appetite for it. You dabbed your lips gently with your napkin before pushing your chair backwards to stand, all eyes lifted to you.

“Thank you for dinner, it was beautiful.” You smiled at Alicent, her bright eyes creasing in the corners as she gave you one back, “Please excuse me, I'd like to go to bed. I’m quite tired.”

You knew he was watching you. You could feel it. You could feel the heat of his eye on your face, on your neck and shoulders, on the way your hands wiped nervously against the sides of your dress.

Alicent nodded her head at you, “Of course.” And being the well mannered host that she was, bid you a good night and went back to entertaining her “guests”, immediately turning her face towards Rhaenyra who gave you a sweet grin.

A pressure at your hand caused you to cast your eyes downward, meeting Helaena’s concerned gaze. You gave her a reassuring squeeze and a subtle shake of your head.

No.

I am fine.

I am totally okay.

Not at all struggling to breathe with my heart in my throat because your brother, who I’ve been fucking by the way in case you forgot, had his abusive ex over at our place which resulted in a fight and me coming here, has been staring at me this entire dinner and I don’t know what to do.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, briskly leaving the intimate dining room to go to Helaena’s bedroom, feeling that same heat on the back of your head as you left. Your footsteps echoed on the stone floors as you tried to take deep and steadying breaths, stomach tying itself in knots.

You felt on the verge of tears.

You were halfway up the stairs when you heard footsteps coming swiftly towards you.

“Wait.” Came the smooth and deep timbre of the man you were so desperately trying to avoid.

Your mouth opened, and you increased your pace up the stairs, almost lurching yourself up them two at a time. Not ready to hear his rejection. Not ready to speak to him. Not ready to feel the pangs of pain in your chest again.

A deep sigh came from behind, footsteps closer now.

“Would you wait a second?” Aemond called to you again.

No.

No I will not.

I am going to take myself straight to bed so that I can cry in the shower and pretend that I’m not crying.

You finally came to the top of the stairs, taking a sharp left turn to speed walk down the hallway towards Helaena’s room.

Goddamn them and their stupid, giant estate.

“I said wait.” Aemond jogged in front of you, stopping abruptly in your path so that you would have to stop.

You almost ran straight into him.

His chest was heaving and his brow was pulled down as he looked at you. There was a blush to his cheeks and you watched as he swallowed thickly as he took you in.

Your chest fluttered.

“What?” You breathed, lump forming in the back of your throat.

All you could think of was your last interaction.

I don’t know.

“I was worried about you.” Aemond muttered, eye roaming your face.

There was that dastardly pain in your chest. You tried to swallow the lump, but it stayed thick and heavy in your throat, sadness seeping into your bones.

You shook your head, “I’m fine.”

The man frowned, “You’re clearly not. I texted you.”

Guilt.

“I know.”

The way he was standing in front of you was so unsure, so closed in, like he didn’t know what he was doing, or how to speak to you in that moment. It reminded you of how small he made himself look with Alys.

Alys.

I don’t know.

You moved to step around him, trying to get to the room which was further down the hall.

Get to the room and then you can cry.

Get to the room and then you can let it out. Don’t let him see you like this.

Don’t-

Aemond blocked your path again.

You huffed, breezing past him, your shoulder lightly brushing against his arm as you made your way forward.

Almost there.

Almost-

“Can we please talk about this?” His voice came from behind.

Keeping your eye trained on Helaena’s door you responded, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Yep.

Keep lying to yourself girl.

Cause that will make it all better.

“Y/n, please.”

Your steps slowed, door right before you. If you leant forward enough and reach out, your fingers would graze one of the door handles and you could simply press down and slip through the door.

But even then, would it be enough to keep him out?

He had flown all the way here.

It was time to face the music.

You spun around, gnawing gently at your bottom lip as you looked at him. He looked almost relieved to see you turn to him, and his hands twitched at his sides. He stepped closer but kept his distance, watching as you shifted on your feet, counting your breaths.

Don’t cry.

“I’m sorry.”

Oh shit.

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him.

Aemond breathed deeply.

It was quiet for a moment, but you let it hold.

It was his turn to speak, and once he had told you that these things didn’t come easy to him.

So you would give him time.

You would give him five minutes to say his peace, you reasoned with yourself. Five minutes to let you down gently, to tell you that he was back with Alys, and then you could spend ten minutes wallowing in self pity and cry in the shower, and then, after all that, you would make Helaena let you go home.

She did say you had to hear him out first.

Well, now was his chance.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” He continued, eye boring into your own, “I was just as surprised as you were.”

Surprised as you were?

He let her in.

Irritation stirred in your chest.

Not just at his words, but his inaction during what had happened.

Inaction for his own autonomy and self respect.

“Surprised.” You said tonelessly.

Aemond cast his eye to his shoes, watching as they shifted on the hundred years old stone.

“I don’t expect you to understand-“ He began.

“-Then help me to.”

His sharp jaw ticked, “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just- I saw her and-“

“-Let her into my home without asking. And to top it all off,” Here came the anger and hurt, “You shrugged me off in front of her and allowed her to insult me.”

“She didn’t insult you.”

You scoffed, looking away, eyes focusing on an old portrait of some Targaryen ancestor with a silver crown atop his head, “You still defend her. Even when you’re trying to apologise to me. You said I was just ‘Helaena's roommate’, as if we hadn’t spent multiple nights together in my bed. How did you expect me to take that? It was humiliating!”

There goes your plan to let him to do the talking.

Regret flashed across his pale features, eye casting away from you, “I’m sorry.” He shook his head at himself, “You didn’t deserve that. I didn’t mean to dismiss you, or make you feel as if you didn’t mean anything to me.”

Mean something to him?

“But you did.” You stated bitterly.

Aemond took another step towards you, and you had to fight the urge to not take one back.

You pressed your tongue into your cheek as you waited for him to respond, waited for him to finally tell you that he was back with her. That whatever you had together was over. You just wished he would get on with it.

The waiting was worse than the knowing.

Tears began to prick at your eyes.

“Please just get it over and done with.” You blurted, and watched as confusion washed over his face, “Just-“ You wet your lips with your tongue, “Just tell me what you came here to do.”

Aemond shifted on his feet, brows lightly furrowed as he looked at you sadly. His mouth opened and shut twice before words came forth, “I know my actions have hurt you, but I’m lost. I know that isn’t an excuse, and I shouldn’t try and use it as one, but I don’t know what to do.”

You picked at the skin of your finger, “I don’t know what you want from me, Aemond.”

“I want you.”

You blinked.

What?

“I need you. I came here because- Because I- I needed to see you. I needed to make it right. I’m sorry.” His face grew sullen, and you wished that he wouldn’t look at you that way. It made you want to step forward and pull him into your arms, “I shouldn’t have let her talk to you like that. I shouldn’t have let you leave like that. I should have done many things, but I didn’t. I’m lost. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He breathed, eye roaming your face. Aemond took another step forward, face suddenly becoming harder with conviction, “But I know that I want you.”

I don’t know, replayed in your mind over and over again.

“I just don’t know what to do.” He breathed, and your heart sank.

He didn’t know what to do.

And that meant, you would be strung along for the ride until he made his decision.

A traitorous tear escaped the corner of your eye, sliding wetly down your cheek. Aemond’s lip twitched as he saw it, and his hand moved towards you. You stepped back, hand pressed against the handle of the door.

“That’s not good enough for me, Aemond.” You choked, pressing the handle of the door down to open it, stepping inside without another glance back.

Tears fell down your cheeks as you shut the door behind you, back leant again the wood as you stifled a sob with the back of your hand.

He wanted you.

But he didn’t know how.

He didn’t know what to do.

He was lost.

But only he could make those decisions.

You couldn’t do that for him.

He had to do it himself.

And it hurt.

It hurt so much, that your shower was a blur of tears, and you hadn’t even noticed when Helaena snuck into bed beside you after, brushing your hair away from your face as she cooed sadly at you. You let your best friend hold you as you sniffled against her, turning Aemond’s words in your head over and over again.

You wanted him.

He wanted you.

But neither of you knew what to do.

The next morning you woke with swollen eyes and anxiety in your gut. Another day, and you would once again have to face him. There was no escaping the man who came here to talk to you, and although you had heard him out last night, you knew that it wouldn’t be the last time he would try.

Helaena, being the sweet and wonderful friend that she was, trying to cheer you up, ran down to the kitchen and brought up a cool gel eye mask for you to put on. She made you sit up and put it on you with a small giggle, the frosty gel making your eyes tear involuntarily.

You sat there for a moment with the makeshift gel goggles on, watching as Helaena’s violet eyes probed yours. She knew Aemond had spoken to you. You were sure everyone knew something was going on, what with him running out after you once you left dinner and his constant vigilant gaze upon you.

You knew what she was going to ask, and yet you couldn’t help but sigh, “Ask whatever it is you’re busting to ask, Hel.”

The silver haired woman flopped down into bed, wavy hair fanned out on the pillow as she looked up at you, “Did you hear him out?”

“I did.”

She frowned at the lack of elaboration, “What did he say?”

You inhaled deeply through your nose as you scratched at the back of your head, lightly tugging your hair, “Apologised.” Helaena’s eyes lit up, “Said he wants me, but doesn’t know what to do.” You flopped down beside her, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

You were sure you looked as ridiculous as you felt.

“And what did you say?”

“That it wasn’t good enough for me.”

Helaena didn’t hum, or speak up again, and you could feel her encouraging gaze upon you, knowing she wanted you to elaborate, and so you did.

“I can’t just go into something with him if he doesn’t even know what he wants. You should have been there, Hel. He called me your roommate and nothing else to her, and now he turns up and decides he wants me but doesn’t know how?” You felt your gut twist in feeling inadequate, never enough, “I’m not going to be his rebound for him to figure out what he wants. If he wants me, he needs to do better than that. He needs to show me that he does. No more secrets, no more whispers in the dark of a room. He’s either all in, or I’m out.”

It felt good to get that off your chest, to let it out, to breathe the words that settled inside of you like a stone. If he wanted you, truly wanted you, he needed to show it. He needed to build that bridge. He needed to take the first steps, because you couldn’t hold his hand and guide him through that.

But in some ways, him coming all the way to the Keep to see you was a first step, but even then, you needed more.

“I need assurance that he isn’t just going to run off to her and leave me in the dirt. I need assurance that this isn’t just some game to him. I’m happy being single, don’t get me wrong, Hel. Cregan is really all I need to get shit out of my system, but there’s something more with Aemond. Something more than just sex.”

You cringed, turning to face her, expecting to see a grimace as you spoke about having sex with her brother. But there was no cringe in her features, only a look of understanding an empathy.

“Sorry, Hel. I know he’s your brother, and this is already weird.”

“My family is weirder.”

You chuckled softly, “I think I just need to go home. I want to go home and just pretend none of this happened.”

Helaena hummed, “You and me both.” Then as if realising her words, “I didn’t mean about you and Aem, I just mean in general. Mum is driving me up the wall.”

“Come back with me.”

“I can’t. I have to be here for them.” She rolled out of bed, moving to her wardrobe as she fished out some clothes for the day, “Only consolation is mum is gone, won’t be back until tomorrow, but that means Cole is with her. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow when they get back.”

You sat up, pulling the eye mask from your face, feeling far more refreshed than you wold have liked to admit. The puffiness from your eyes was gone, and you felt fresher, more alert and awake. Or perhaps that was from your conversation.

“That’s fine. This place is huge, I’m sure I won’t see him at all.”

Your previous statement proved to be false. Despite the sheer size of the Red Keep estate, Aemond seemed to pop up no matter where you were.

At the pool.

In the Library.

The Billiard Room were you played a game of pool with the boys.

No matter where you were, he always seemed to find you, eye searching you out immediately as he would slowly, and awkwardly, make his way toward you. You had dodged him thus far, leaving with an excuse to go to the bathroom, all but racing up to Helaena’s room, or saying that you were hungry, running to the large kitchen to sip at a glass of water.

It got to the point where it was simply ridiculous, and even the others seemed to notice his sudden appearance, and then your very sudden absence thereafter. It was like a game of tag, he would arrive and you would leave just before he could reach you, keeping that sweet distance safely between the two of you. Because if he were to say anything like he had the night before, you didn’t know if you would be able to keep yourself cool, calm and collected.

It was late in the afternoon, the sun beginning to roll down from the sky, where you found yourself in the gazebo at the end of the garden. It was large and open, chairs, lounges and tables all within, and Aegon had brought another bag of joints down with him.

You suspected that he most likely had a plant growing somewhere on the property. And the twins, with the help of their step-brothers, brought down a large esky.

With the presence of the two brunette haired boys, you likened that Aemond wouldn’t venture down to the Gazebo with the rest of you, thus your false sense of protection from he man.

Tomorrow you would leave, and then you would be safe to wallow in self pity as much as your heart desired.

There was a cool breeze that rolled through, but you were all relaxed for the most part, enjoying each others company with the music that played steadily out of Daeron’s portable speaker, drinking and smoking, and enjoying the warmth of the sun.

You had been rolling a cigarette, offering one to Aegon as he eyed your pouch greedily when Lucerys shifted in front of you, large brown eyes looking past your head. The younger man’s face changed, brows pulling and posture straightening. He was nervous. Dread settled in your gut. The only time that you had seen Luc react like this was when his uncle was around.

You turned in your seat, filter for your cigarette hanging from your lips, to see Aemond slowly making his way across the grass towards you.

“Aemond!” Aegon called out, lifting his half drunk beer, joint pinched between two fingers that held the bottle towards his younger brother, who made his way up the steps to the rest of you.

Your mouth felt dry, and you looked away just as his eye found you, scurrying to roll your cigarette and Aegon’s, using it as an excuse to look down into your lap and not up at the man who sat himself beside Aegon on the opposite side of you.

Movement caught your eye, and you lifted your gaze through your lashes, watching as Aemond plucked the joint from his brothers fingers, bringing it towards his plump lips, inhaling a long draw of the blunt. The ember lit and moved down the paper as he drew in, and you were annoyingly impressed that he had the lungs to hold it.

You looked back down at the tobacco in your lap, slowly filling the centre of the paper as you rolled it together between your pointers and thumbs, making a long, and neat cigarette.

You didn’t want to look up, but as soon as your tongue darted out to lick the paper to get it to stick, you could feel heat rising into your face as Aemond, unashamedly, watched. You reached out blindly, handing the cigarette to Aegon who thank you with a chirpy ‘Ta’, diverting your eyes back down to your lap to repeat the process.

Jacaerys, picking up on the tension, opted to speak to you, and only you, trying to keep your attention on him as he passed you over another can of some sweet drink Baela had brought with her. The whole time, you felt Aemond watching you.

Irritation boiled inside of you as you licked the cigarette closed, bringing it to hold between your lips as your hands patted down your lap and then sides for the lighter.

“Here.” Aegon caught your attention, leaning forward with his white lighter for you. You leant in, eyes on the flame as you inhaled to light the end of the smoke.

“Thanks.” You mumbled back, exhaling deeply, watching the smoke, trying to focus on the lyrics of the song instead of focusing on the way your skin prickled as you were being observed.

“In my imagination, you’re waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs.”

You turned to Daeron, “Really, Daer? Arctic Monkeys?”

The youngest son of Alicent turned to you and snorted, “It’s not my phone that’s connected.”

“What's wrong with the Arctic Monkeys?” Aegon huffed, joint back in his hands as he watched you with glassy, half-lidded eyes.

“Didn’t take you for a Tumblr girl, Eggy.” You teased, inhaling your smoke, ignoring the way his brother beside him stared at you pointedly.

“It’s what gets the girls hot and heavy, babe.” Aegon winked, and you could have sworn you saw Aemond’s body shift beside him.

Helaena gagged, “Such a slut, Egg.”

“Hey! No slut shaming in my house.”

Baela, being quick witted, jumped in, “But I thought you liked a little bit of shame?”

If you had thought Aegon’s flirty glances towards you were intense, the one he cheekily threw at Baela stilled your breath, “I love it all, Bae. Why are you interested?”

“You’re foul.”

“You love it.”

The tension somewhat diffused after that, but Aemond didn't join in on anyone else’s conversations, merely listened, and kept his eye on you. It was driving you, as Helaena would say, up the wall. You didn’t know if you wanted to kiss him or scream at him.

Maybe a bit of both to be honest.

You had gotten down to your third or fourth drink, sun right behind the horizon, a deep orange glow spreading across the estate, when Aemond finally came to do what he had clearly intended to all day.

He stood, and you stiffened, seeing in your periphery as he came to sit beside you on the other side, Helaena having gotten up to get another drink out of the esky, lost in giggles with Luc and Rhaena.

“Can we talk?” Aemond sat beside you, voice soft and quiet.

You hated that he was trying. You hated that he was trying because it meant that there was a chance that you could get hurt again. You just wished, in some sick part of you, that he would be horrible to you so you could just move on.

The cigarette moved in your lips as you murmured to him, the same words you had repeated over, and over despite their lack of integrity, keeping your eyes ahead, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Y/n, please. Don’t shut me out.”

Jace, being the ever perceptive man that he was, had noticed throughout the day your tension, and finally snapped, “Dude, back off. She clearly doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Aemond’s gaze snapped to his nephew across the gazebo, and all around you, the giggles of Rhaena and Helaena halted, and that inexplicable tension exploded into the space. It was like everyone held their breath, watching as Aemond’s lips pulled down into a sneer, “Mind your business, Jacaerys.”

The brunette sneered back, “No.” Hand extended towards you, “Look at her. She’s uncomfortable as hell-”

“-Jace, I-“ You tried to defuse the ticking time bomb that was building between uncle and nephew, but Jacaerys wasn’t having it.

“-Don’t pretend you’re not. You’ve been avoiding him all day.”

You swallow.

“This doesn’t concern you.” Aemond snapped, and even though he was irritated, you could tell he was trying his best to keep his body language calm and cold beside you.

To show you he wasn’t a threat.

Jacaerys shook his head, fingers strumming against the neck of his beer. Helaena’s eyes darted back and forth between brother and nephew, uncertain of what to do, mind running a million miles an hour as she evaluated the situation.

“It does if you’re making my friend uncomfortable.” The brunette scoffed, “I don’t know what you did to warrant her not wanting to speak to you, but you should take the hint.”

Oh fuck.

Fuck.

A sharp breath was blown through Aemond’s nose, “And you should take the ‘hint’ that this doesn’t concern you.”

Jacaerys shifted his eyes to you, warmth and concern bleeding into his features. In any other circumstance, you would have appreciated his defence of you, and even come to his side, but right now, you didn’t know what to do.

“Y/n, do you want to talk to him?”

Did you?

Yes.

No.

Yes.

Oh Gods.

You stayed quiet, not sure what you wanted. Talking would mean you would be let down again. Talking would mean you would have to have the same roundabout argument, your silly heart too stubborn and too sensitive to be hurt again.

Everyone watched as they waited for your answer, but Jacaerys, taking your momentary bout of silence, chimed in once again.

“See? she doesn’t-“

Aemond stood from his seat beside you, irritation rolling off of him in waves, “-Fuck off, Jacaerys. Learn whats good for you and mind your own.”

Jace shot up from his spot across the Gazebo, poor little Lucerys beside him standing with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.

“Say that again.”

“I said, fuck off.” Aemond hissed.

“Woah. Okay! Maybe we should just-“ Aegon starts, but was quickly interrupted by Jacaerys.

“-Get your brother in line.” He barked at Aegon, whose glassy eyes widened, and pale brows rose up his forehead, “He’s been harassing her ever since he arrived.”

“Harassing?” Aemond fumed.

Oh for fucks sake.

This was exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

The son of Rhaenyra Targaryen narrowed his eyes on his uncle, and stepped towards him, “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Whatever you have to say to her, she clearly doesn’t want to hear it. Leave her alone.”

Aemond shifted, but didn’t step towards his younger nephew, staying firmly by your seated side, “What would you know about what I want to say to her? She can speak for herself.”

Oh, Aemond.

The brunette let out a humourless laugh, “Well she hasn’t spoken once yet.”

“Because you haven’t given me the chance!” You exploded, feeling all too overwhelmed with it all.

You didn’t want them to fight because of you.

You knew that this would happen. That their previous familial tension would be the underlying root of whatever this was.

But you didn’t want this.

You didn’t want everyone against Aemond.

Your brown haired friend, someone you adored immensely looked at you with impatience, “Do you want to speak with him?”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“See? She doesn't even know. It's no secret you hate her-“

“-I love her!”

The air in the gazebo stilled.

The sound of blood rushing into your ears was loud, and you felt your heart beating against your ribs, desperate to escape as you felt it lurch into your throat. Your mouth opened, and a sharp inhale moved through you. You couldn’t think.

All eyes were on you again, and the silence was back, the previous song slowly rolling out, to give way to the next.

Helaena watched knowingly, as did Aegon, who relaxed beside you.

And what was more surprising, was that you could see the tension in Jacaerys’ shoulders slowly bleed from him, a blush blooming on his high cheeks.

Oh shit.

“I mean- I-“ Aemond breathed, gathering what was left of his composure, voice coming out less irritated than before, “Please, I just- I need to talk to her.”

Your mouth felt dry, and your palms sweaty. You couldn’t even look up at the man who stood beside you.

What the-

Helaena moved quickly towards her nephew, linking her arm in his as she began to lead him out of the gazebo, “Let's let these two talk, hm?”

Aegon stood and clapped his hands, “Let's go play some pool and let these two love birds sort out their little lovers spat.”

Your eyes widened at him.

Love birds?

Lovers spat?

You-

Wh-

You were completely, and utterly gobsmacked.

Love?

Loves you?

Slowly but surely, all left you and Aemond at the gazebo, and you desperately swallowed dryly, wishing you could run again. Jacaerys’ eyes gave you one last lingering gaze to see if you needed help, and it reminded you of the way you had been with Aemond not too long ago.

Pain strummed in your chest.

Then finally, you were alone.

Aemond jerked away from you pacing, brushing a nervous hand through his hair as you stay seated.

You didn’t even know if you could move.

Didn’t know if you could stand.

Didn’t even know if you could lift yourself even if you wanted. You had grown to the chair, and at the mercy of the silver haired man who walked briskly in front of you.

“Are you going to let me speak to you?”

“You’re already speaking.” You quipped back, nerves taking a hold of you just the same as it did to him.

Aemond’s gaze flicked to you, then back down to his hands which he clenched and unclenched, wiping them against his black slacks, clearly irritated and unsure.

“You’ve been avoiding me all day.” He stated.

You don't respond.

“Why?”

“Why?” You scoffed, “What do you mean 'why?'”

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

Gods, why was this the only fucking question he had?

Didn’t he have the wherewithal to figure the rest out?

It was as if his irritation bounced onto you, heat rising into your cheeks.

You snapped, “Because there is nothing to talk about!”

His violet eye narrowed on you as he turned to face you completely, hands at his sides, “Yes, there is.”

You shook your head, feeling that irritating little pull in your chest, and the even more irritating prickle in the back of your eyes, “No, there’s not. You made that abundantly clear. You don’t know what you want, Aemond.” You sighed sadly, looking away from him momentarily, anything to escape his piercing gaze, “You don’t even know if you really want me. This isn’t healthy. I’m not going to be your stepping stone from Alys.”

The man’s brows pulled down into a frown, “You’re not a stepping stone.”

“That's how I feel!” You felt like you were going to burst into tears, you didn’t want to show him this, you didn’t want him to feel your insecurities, but the words just kept coming, “I don’t feel wanted. I feel like an option. I don’t want to be an option to you.”

Aemond took a step towards you, hand out in front of him, palm up, “How can I make you feel that when you won’t talk to me? When you won’t let me show you. You’re not an option for me. It’s only you. If you would just let me speak to you-”

You stood up, moving away from him as you felt tears gather in your eyes, “You haven’t shown me that I can trust you. How do I know you won’t hurt me again? That she won’t just show up here? This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. Remember the first time we got involved? I can’t keep doing this and getting myself hurt, Aemond. I won’t.” You cast your eyes out to the horizon, the blanket of night falling across the realm, stars above beginning to twinkle in the darkness.

You heard Aemond come up from behind, “I’m done with her. For good. As it should have been. I haven’t seen her since that night.”

That night when he dismissed you.

That night when you ran here.

It sounded as though he was speaking about something that had happened, months, years ago, but in reality, was not that long ago. Mere days.

“And did she come back?” Your voice was small, and you felt embarrassment for impulsively asking one of your burning questions, something that had been eating away at you almost every night since you left.

“What?” There was disbelief in his tone, “No. I didn’t want her to come back. And then when I saw you were gone, I thought you went to Cregan’s or Sara’s. But then, you didn’t come back. And you wouldn’t respond.”

“Why was she there for so long?” You turned to face him, watching as his eye softened, before looking down sadly. You knew she was a hard topic, but so was this.

“Because we talked about everything. The abuse. The…grooming. All of it. I wanted her to know I didn’t want that anymore. I needed to prove to myself I didn’t. She just wouldn't stop.”

“Then why did you say you didn’t know? Why did you say that to me, Aemond? But suddenly now you know? Can you you see why I’m so lost?”

Aemond lip was pulled into his mouth as he bit at it nervously, “Because I didn’t. It was an intense conversation to have right after her, Y/n. And you deserved my full capacity, deserve my full capacity, which I didn’t have in that moment. I needed to grieve, and I felt like I was being pushed into talking.” His voice became, softer, and you watched as his hands flexed beside him, itching to do something with them as a distraction, “I didn’t know what way was up, or what to think. It felt like my mind was put into a blender. I felt everything and nothing all at once.”

Gods damn him.

Why was this so hard.

An ache spread in your chest for him, for everything that he had been through.

“I wasn’t pushing you," You shook your head softly, "I would never do that to you.” You sympathised, feeling slightly guilty, “I just wanted to know where we stood.”

“Stood?”

Of course he would pick up on that.

Past tense.

You sighed, threading a hand through your hair, “I’m not going to be your experiment, Aemond.” The man’s head reared back in disbelief at your words, “I’m not going to be your fixer upper. Or your new start. I’m not putting my all into something when the other person doesn’t even know what they want from me.”

“I do know.” Aemond corrected you, head cocked to the side, eye imploring you to understand.

In any other circumstance you would be a puddle on the floor.

“But you said-”

“-I know what I said.” He interrupted you, “And I thought on it. I know what I want. I want you. But I just don’t know how.”

“This is the issue!” You threw your hands up in frustration.

Gods strike me down.

It was the same thing, over and over. He wants you but doesn’t know how.

As a friend?

As a roommate?

As a lover?

What did he want from you?

Not even he fucking knew.

You stormed away, a lone tear falling down your cheek as you brushed it away angrily, jogging down the steps of the gazebo as you made your way back inside of the Keep. You passed Helaena and Jacaerys who stood in the kitchen, eyes wide as they watched you speed right past them, Aemond trailing behind you, hot on your tail.

Jacaerys moved to come towards you, to ask if you were okay, but you snapped at him, hand up, “Don’t.”

You kept on, desperate to get to some privacy where you could actually let it all out. Cry and scream, and kick and shout, and then fix your makeup and head back downstairs, and if Aemond came again, you would let Jacaerys give it to him out of spite.

Aemond jogged after you, coming around the corner of the entrance that had a large staircase that wound up to the higher levels. “Let me finish.” He puffed, “I don’t know how to assure you that I want you, or how to promise you that I won’t hurt you.”

You spun back and sneered at him, “And that's not good enough for me, Aemond.”

You watched as he flinched back slightly, and your face softened.

Fuck.

Goddamn it.

You hoped the regretful look on your face soothed his anxiety momentarily before you kept on, pace getting faster once more.

“What if I got on my knees and begged.”

You blinked.

The memory of the joke that had been uttered in your apartment floated to the front of your mind. The sides of your lips twitched, but that short lived happiness and fondness was squashed at the reminder of why you were having this conversation in the first place.

You turned, finding Aemond dangerously close at the top of the stairs, his eye narrowed on you as both of your chests heaved, “No. I’m tired of being used by you.”

“I’m not using you.” He took a step froward.

You took a step back.

“Oh no? So I’m suddenly not ‘Helaena’s roommate’.”

You knew you were being childish, but you couldn’t stop it.

“I said I’m sorry.” His voice sounded strained, almost coming out as a growl.

You shook your head at him, “Just stay away from me.” You turned away heading down the hall to her room, “You can get your things from th-“

A large palm wrapped around your elbow and spun you.

Soft lips crashed into yours and you gasped, hands flying to his shoulders as he pushed you backwards into a wall, all teeth and tongue. A warmth spread through you, and as your mind caught up with you finally, you kissed him back, biting at his lip roughly in anger.

Your hands wove into his hair and pulled at it meanly, hearing a grunt fall into your lips as he pressed into your body with all his weight, smothering you, covering you, claiming you.

Aemond’s hands held the side of your neck before skating down your body, grabbing at your waist and hips, before sliding behind to pinch at your bum.

A moan flittered from your chest as heat settled in your gut, a wetness beginning to seep into your underwear.

With stumbling steps, Aemond guided you backwards, the two of you clawing and nipping at each other breathlessly, pent up anger and frustration pouring into your bones.

The wall behind you fell through, having been a door Aemond opened, and you parted momentarily as you stepped backwards, his large boot kicking the door shut as he grasped your cheeks, pulling you back to him. He continued to walk you backwards, your feet stumbling on the edge of a rug.

The world spun as Aemond shoved you backwards, eyes popping open as you landed onto his bed with a squeak. Your eyes took him in, and then the room. It was similar to Helaena’s, but only dark greens and black.

A room which looked like hadn’t had someone in it for a very long time.

Aemond had taken you to his old room.

He stood in front of you, chest heaving, eye narrowed on your form as his hands moved to his belt, roughly unclasping it, sliding the long length through his belt loops with a snap. Your legs clenched together as you watched him unbutton his shirt, his pupil having swallowed his iris whole, leaving an inky black look of desire as he devoured you with his eye.

Once his shirt was off, he kicked of his shoes and socks, and then he was on you again, lips and body pressing you down into the soft duvet that covered his sheets, a long groan peeling from his chest as he gripped your hair tightly, grinding his hardened length against your covered core.

You whined, hands flying down to the button and zipper of his pants as he ripped at your clothes, tearing them off of you until you were laid bare beneath him.

He looked down at you hungrily, tongue peeking out of his lips to wet them as he murmured at you, “So beautiful.”

Your hands found his zip and yanked it down, fingers diving under the elastic of his pants to grasp at his girth. You gave him a rough squeeze, arching up to nip at his bottom lip. A hiss came from between his clenched teeth before he gently batted your hand away, sliding off of the bed as he tugged you roughly towards him with a squeak.

He parted your legs hastily, eye immediately locked on your slick folds. You tried to close your legs, feeling heat bloom in your chest, but his hands prevented you, that and his hardened stare as he leant down and licked a broad swipe up through your folds.

Your back arched off of the bed as you whined, pleasure sparking through you. Your hands flew down and grasped his hair, tugging him towards your centre as he began to lick and suckle at your clit. He hummed into it, placing nips into your inner thighs and kisses against the sensitive nub.

It was too much.

All that pent up emotion.

The waiting.

The wanting.

The hurting.

The yearning.

And now he was back between your thighs, rubbing a long digit through your folds until he pushed it inside of your entrance, curling it upwards to rub against the spongey patch within. You jerked as warmth shot up through you, your core clenching around his digit, before he added another.

“So fucking tight and wet.” He moaned, head dipping back down to suckle at your clit whilst he fucked you on his fingers, “Such a perfect pussy.”

The room was filled with the slick sound of your heat and your moans as you writhed atop his bed, the coil within you winding increasingly tighter with each flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers.

It was raw. It was primal. And it was a flurry of desperation.

He came away from your core, crawling up your body as he kicked off his pants and briefs, “Want to feel you cum around me.” He breathed against your lips, settling himself between your thighs as you lifted your hip up to meet his tip, which he fisted in one hand.

He didn’t spare a second to check in, to see if you were ready, before slamming himself inside, his pace immediately fast and hard as he rutted against you desperately. You cried out, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as each snap of his hips drove you up the bed, your walls clamping down on him.

“Fuck.” He hissed, feeling the way you tightened around him as he changed the angle to drive his hips deeper, lifting one of your thighs to wrap around his hip, fingers digging into your flesh in a way you knew there would be bruises come morning.

“Please.” You whined beneath him, chest arching up to brush against him, nipples pebbled in arousal.

“Please, what?” He smirked, purposely slowing his thrusts.

You tilted your hips upwards to try and increase the pace before you huffed, “Please, need to cum.”

Aemond dipped his head, kissing your cheek softly, the first sign of affection, “You’ll cum, baby, be patient for daddy.”

He fucked into you harder, his forehead pressed against yours as he looked down to where you were connected, watching as his length disappeared into your slick folds over and over, your arousal coating his shaft and your thighs in a way that glimmered in the low light of the room.

You chased his lips, bringing him back into a passionate kiss, feeling his tongue slide over yours, chasing you desperately as you deepened for him, feeling your chest flutter, and your cunt pulse.

His hand found its way to the side of your cheek as he fucked you, breaking the embrace to look down at you.

There was a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, silver stands sticking to the side of his face as the rest dangled over his shoulders messily. His eye bore into your own, and you watched as his pupil dilated further, a blush creeping on his cheeks as his thrusts faltered.

“I want you.” He whispered, “Only you.”

You whined, shutting your eyes as you turned your face into his palm feeling overwhelmed by his gaze, his words, and the way his cock drilled so perfectly into your cunt.

“‘M close.” You panted, fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders as you pulled him down closer to you, wanting him to be closer, needing him to be pressed against you entirely.

His scent surrounded you, and you felt safer, calmer, and ready to burst.

You were so close.

So close.

“’S perfect, baby. Cum for me.” He groaned, his pace beginning to falter, hand still against your cheek and neck, holding you in place as he watched you come undone beneath him.

You came with a cry, eyes scrunched shut as he grunted, warmth immediately flooding you as he came with you. Pleasure erupted through your body, your walls fluttering around his length as he fucked himself through the both of your highs, prolonging it.

His weight pressed down onto you from above as you both breathed heavily, his hips finally stilling as you felt his length throbbing inside of you. Aemond's thumb brushed against your cheek, gently, back and forth, back and forth, soothing you as you refused to look back at him, keeping your eyes shut.

You didn’t dare open your eyes, you didn’t even know if you could, but if you did, you would have been met with the loving and gentle gaze of Aemond, a warm glow on his cheeks.

Pulling back, Aemond slid himself from your warmth and you both hissed quietly in the sudden stillness of the room. But you were too tired to talk, too tired to argue, too tired to even think about what this meant.

He wrapped you up in his arms, pulling the sheets over the both of you as he tucked your head beneath his chin.

You curled up against him, enjoying the familiarity of his warmth and the safety that he gave you.

Fingertips brushed up and down your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake, until slowly but surely, the moment slowed, and his breathing evened out. Your eyes adjusted to the low lit room, as you took it all in, breathing in time with the man beside you.

Your throat felt tight.

The lump you wished you could remove with your own hands, growing in the back of your throat.

Your chest grew tight, and there it was once again, the prickling in your eyes as tears threatened to rise.

As carefully as you could, you slid out of the bed, halting each time his breath would change, or he would move, careful to not wake him. When you stood beside the bed, you looked down at him as you put your clothes back on.

He looked at peace.

Calm.

And so, gods be damned, beautiful.

Silver hair that had a slight wave to it now was nestled around his head on the pillow, small strands falling down his face over his seeing eye. Those plump lips you loved to kiss were slightly parted as he slept, breathing in through them and the sharp nose above.

Your heart ached as you watched him.

You didn’t know what to do.

You both clearly wanted each other, but you were scared of getting hurt.

Aemond said he had made up his mind, but had you?

You snuck out of his room and into Helaena’s, crawling into bed beside her. She blinked at you sleepily before rolling over to go back to her dreams.

You found you could barely sleep, mind occupied with only one thing;

Him.

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milliesfishes · 4 months ago

Note

How about modern reader encountering ghost Billy? Thanks

꣑ৎ౨ৎTender Is The Night꣑ৎ౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: mentions of death/dying, angst, reader is emotionally neglected pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: fem reader x ghost billy the kid author’s note: (modern au) based partially on @goosita ghost billy au (which I've been dying for an excuse to write for) which is based on lisa frankenstein (love) Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The graveyard was a desolate place for eternal rest.

Billy had wandered the hills, trailed through the forest in search of a better spot, but his fear had gotten the better of him. When one spends enough time in a place it becomes comforting, whether it originally was or not.

Time was a cruel wound, and it was never ending, which meant the pain of life's halt stretched long into the future; a destination beyond Billy's comprehension. He had hoped once the bullet stopped his heart that he would continue on into a next life.

Instead, he was stuck between worlds. A spirit ignored by the majority of the living, left to pace the earth until some higher power decided another fate for his soul. A century and some change passed, and he was hardly visited through any of it. Only a groundskeeper every now and then would come to tend to the tombstones, brush up the greenery a little, and then leave for decades.

His grave was unmarked by any name, his body below decayed into nothing. This was his resting place decided on by his enemies. The joke was on all of them though. They were just as forgotten as he was.

Occasionally a single person would come along to explore the land, maybe make note of it, but they never stayed and they never returned. Billy resigned himself to the fact that the years would slip through his fingers, and the world would continue to change except for one irreconcilable fact: that he was alone.

But that was all before you started to show up.

Pretty and full of sunshine, he'd been surprised when you appeared for the first time through the gates of the cemetery, surveying the space with curious eyes. At first, he thought perhaps you were lost, but then you ventured through the boundaries, examining each grave with interest.

Billy had perked up at that. You were the best visitor he'd had, and you'd hardly done anything yet. He waited with bated breath for you to stop at his grave.

When you did, not only did you look at it, you knelt down, brushing leaves and natural debris aside, seeming to want to read the name. A look of disappointment crossed your face when you discovered there wasn't one. All the other headstones had them. His heart sank and he expected you to move on.

Instead, you made yourself more comfortable, smiling softly as you did. Then your soft lips parted, and you whispered, "I'm sorry nobody wanted to remember you." Pressing your hand flat on the stone, you murmured. "I'll remember you if you remember me."

Billy moved closer to you, fascinated by you. Young and beautiful and kind. His heart rose from the depths like a sunken ship returning to the surface.

Maybe it was a good thing he hadn't been visited all these years. Because then you might never have come along.

After that first day, he hadn't expected you to return. Or maybe if you did, it'd be once in a blue moon. And he would have accepted it, been grateful for any glimpse of you he could get.

But you frequented his resting place, spending hours there in solitude. Often you brought a book with you or played music from your phone, just enjoying the peace. Sometimes you came bearing gifts; little flowers or shiny rocks you found on your way there. You left them surrounding the tombstone, and he admired them until you came the next day, touched that you'd thought of him.

Even though you couldn't see him, he always sat next to you, mirroring whatever position you were in. Sometimes you knelt. Other times you were sprawled on your back.

You sometimes spoke to him, and it made him happier than he could ever say. He learned more about you every time you visited, saving each piece of knowledge to try and form a whole picture about his lovely visitor.

"We moved here a month ago," you murmured, playing with one of the daisies you'd brought this time. A few were stuck in your hair, and more were lining the base of the tombstone. He felt decorated even though they weren't actually on him. "My mom died a year back, and my dad married someone new. She...I don't think she likes me very much."

He felt a pang of sadness at that. By now he was aware of how sweet and loving and gentle you were. How could anybody even dream of disliking you?

"She wanted my dad, not a daughter," you said, picking at the daisy's petal. Billy longed to tuck your hair behind your ear but every time he tried his fingers passed right through you. "But it's okay. I keep to myself. You're really the only friend I've made."

Billy reached out to you, not caring if his hand passed through. His fingers hovered over your knee, and he pretended to rub it gently. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said, wishing his words weren't falling upon deaf ears.

"Honestly, I kind of like being alone," you mused, leaning your head against the side of his tombstone. If he imagined it just right, your head was resting on his shoulder. "With you. I like being alone with you." Picking up your phone, you tilted your head, looking at the stone fixture as if it were him. "What should we listen to today? More Lana, or have you had enough of that?"

He shook his head even though you couldn't see it. Billy would have liked anything you played. You tapped a button and set your phone face down in the grass, stretching out on your back to stare at the blue sky. He laid down with you, listening to the melodic voice flowing from your little device.

Turning his head to the side, he looked at you with stars in his eyes. The sunlight was warming your skin, kissing the bridge of your nose the way he wanted to. The flowers in your hair made you look ethereal, like you somehow belonged in the cemetery, a place nobody was supposed to belong. Your hands fidgeted on your stomach, your eyelashes dipping to grace your skin as the lids closed. Billy could have stared at you all day.

It hit him like a freight train in that precise moment, when he took in the scene of you. He was falling in love with you. With someone who didn't even know he was there, who didn't even know who he was.

But looking at you now, and seeing your kindness shine from your insides out, he knew he was utterly helpless to your charms. You were a force he couldn't resist.

With that in mind he warily allowed himself to grow fonder of you. You were darling, a regular fixture in his not-life now. And even though he knew you would never be able to know of his existence enough to return his affections, he'd been so lonely for so long that even this was enough. Even feeling something other than hopelessness was all he needed to keep him going for the next forever.

As the spring bled into summer, you came almost every day. He worried slightly about how fulfilling your life was, but you had told him so often of your preference for solitude that he figured you would have done this anyway if he wasn't there. And he'd much rather you be alone with him.

On a bright evening, he was watching the trees, eyes following a bird nested in the branches when he heard the familiar sound of your soft footsteps. Lifting his head, his smile was immediate, but it dropped when he saw the state of you.

Tears were streaming down your face, taking a little of your makeup with them. He watched as you collapsed to your knees, chest shaking as you cried. Billy could have sobbed right along with you due to the fact that he couldn't hold you or comfort you the way he wanted.

He ghosted a hand over your hair, trying to make like he was smoothing it. "Oh, sweet girl...what happened? Whatsa matter?" Even though you didn't know he was real, he still thought of you as his girl. He might as well, because that was how much he cared, how much he wanted to protect you.

You cried for a long time, crumbling to the ground over where his body laid, knees curled up, head nestled in your folded arms. The place you'd fallen was right where he was kneeling, so it was like you had your head in his lap, right where he wanted it to be.

His hand hovered over your shoulder, and he tried to will his ghostly form the ability to brush your hair over your shoulder. "It's okay, darlin'. It's gonna be okay, whatever it is."

Somehow you calmed down enough to choke out what had happened. "I...was at...a party...and...and there was a boy who t-touched me...and I...I didn't want him to..." the rest dissolved into tears, and his heart smashed into a million pieces. Anger overtook his being; he wanted to tear whoever had dared to hurt his girl to shreds.

But instead, he sat with you, hoping you could feel his presence. You were akin like the statue of a fallen angel that had occupied the cemetery for a century before it was struck by lightning. Pure love seemed to beam from his being, and he could have sworn the hair he touched moved under his fingers.

When he tried again, this time it really did move. Billy's eyes widened in astonishment, and he stroked his fingers through your strands, hoping the motion was soothing and hoping you knew that someone was listening, that someone cared.

The last thing you uttered before slipping into sleep was, "I wish you were here."

Morning dew dripped onto your cheek, causing your fingers to flutter. You sniffled, stirring a bit and feeling the grass beneath your fingers. There was a little sunshine poking at your eyelids, and you made a little noise of protest, shifting in your spot.

The events of last night prodded your waking mind, reminding you of the fear and heartbreak you'd felt. You hadn't even wanted to go to the party- wary of beer splattered teenagers and loud music and the entire overwhelmingness of the scene. But you had been invited by one of the friendlier girls in your grade, and you weren't in a position to turn down kindness.

You had known it was a mistake to be there from the beginning, but persisted, trying to be normal. Most of your time was spent in a cemetery talking to a tombstone. Starting up a conversation with a more popular boy from your math class, you had gained hope. Maybe you hadn't completely lost whatever social skills you'd had before the move.

Then his hand was on your chest. Then you realized he hadn't been talking to you to make a friend. Pushing him away, you'd run to the one safe place you knew in this forsaken town. Your father and stepmother were on a cruise in the Caribbean, and you couldn't have confided in them anyways. The girl who'd invited you had long disappeared upstairs with her boyfriend. You were utterly alone.

So, in a moment of desperation you fled down that familiar path through the woods, collapsing in front of the tombstone without a name that had been your refuge for the past months.

You were angry for letting it go this far. When your mother died it had flipped your whole world upside down. Any hopes you'd had of being an ordinary, stable, emotionally well girl, were dashed. It had taken years to build your semi-acceptable image and now it was shattered. And now you were talking to inanimate objects.

Truthfully, you couldn't help it. Nobody paid attention to you, but here you were listened to. For the rest of the world, you hardly said a word, but here you poured your soul out. It was stupid, but sometimes you imagined there was someone there, the spirit of whoever's grave you sat atop maybe.

But now you were more upset than you'd ever been and cursing yourself for being too strange to make nice with actual people. Before it hadn't seemed a big deal, but here in your time of need, you were alone.

Opening your eyes, you surveyed the sight of the cemetery in the morning. It was just as peaceful as always; a hidden treasure in the forest. You hadn't been able to resist upon finding it. It was like the space had been saved for you, relatively untouched by common man.

Sitting up, you stretched and rubbed your eyes, cringing when some of your mascara came off. Oh well, it wasn't like you hadn't already cried most of it off anyways.

Turning to look at the tombstone, you got the shock of your life when you saw someone sitting beside it. A man, pale as snow, wearing a hat and clothes that looked like they were from another time. Gasping, you leaned back slightly, eyes wide as the moon. But as you studied him, you felt a familiar feeling creep into your being. It was so peculiar, but you felt like you knew him.

He said nothing, just watched you watch him. Your panic settled as the sun reflected off him. The man's body was almost clear, and you could see straight through him the blurry outline of what he was sitting in front of like a mirror of water.

Sure you were still asleep and dreaming, you whispered, "Who are you?"

The man shifted, lifting the brim of his hat. You could see his face more clearly now. His hair curled at the ends and there was a slight whisper of stubble on his jaw. Though it seemed impossible, you found him irresistibly handsome. "My name's Billy."

Billy. You repeated it once, softly. Looking from him to the headstone, you asked, "Are you...alive?"

He shook his head once. "No."

A ghost. That explained his appearance. Of course, you believed in them. But you'd never had a prayer of seeing one, talking to one. You straightened your posture, sitting on your knees. "Is this your...?" Gesturing to the gravestone, you looked up at him.

"Mhm," he nodded, resting an elbow on his bent knee. "'s unmarked, but this is where they put my body."

You felt a thousand questions come over you. The events of last night were promptly forgotten as this new discovery consumed you. But one stood out the most. "Billy," you started, and he nodded, eyes right on you. He looked so interested in what you had to say- you'd never been paid attention to like this before. "Have you been here all this time? With me?"

A crooked half-smile lifted the corners of his lips. "Yeah, sweetheart. I have."

Cheeks going rosy, you hid your face in your hands. "Oh! I'd have never said so much if I knew someone was really listening."

"Hey-" You felt something pleasantly cool on your arm and lifted your head to see Billy kneeling before you, his ghostly hand covering your skin. "What's wrong. Wasn't no bother. I enjoyed it."

"I was just letting out everything in my head with no thought to if anyone could hear," you said, mortified, not able to bring yourself to look at him. "I shouldn't have."

"Oh, sweetheart," he grasped your wrists in his cold hands, bringing them down from your face. When you finally looked up at him, his eyes were soft, expression tender. "I ain't had anybody talk to me in more 'n a century. It's been lonely here, and none 'f the visitors were half as pretty as you." He smiled when you blushed even more, moving to cup your cheeks in both palms. "You're the best company I've had in ages."

Billy's kind words warmed your heart, and you looked up at him, lips parting slightly. Yes, he was a ghost, but he was also a man. He had liked your chattering, your musing, your presence. Nobody since your mother had.

Smiling slightly, you murmured, "Did you like the music I played?"

His lips drew back to reveal his clear teeth. "I loved the music."

A smile nearly split your face in half, and you leaned into his touch. "I never had anybody to share my music with before."

Billy's thumb stroked your cheek. "I wanna hear all your music, sweetheart." The sincerity in his words melted you like chocolate in the sun. And you could feel your heart beating two times the amount it usually did, as if making up for the absence of the pulse from man in front of you.

The next hour found you lying side by side with Billy, tracing a hand over his ghostly form. Eyes following your fingers, you said, "I thought ghosts weren't solid."

"They're not," he muttered, his regard not leaving your face. "I couldn't touch ya at all before today. 'n you couldn't see me either."

"What changed?" you asked, blinking up at him.

"Dunno." Billy folded his elbow and rested his head on it, still letting you touch him. You nearly clocked stars in his eyes. "But 'm glad somethin' did."

"Me too," you breathed, resting your hand between the two of you.

Watching his outline reflect the sunlight, you felt something in you ignite. It was a conflagration of a something you'd never felt before, but that didn't make it any less real.

And looking at Billy, you could tell he felt it too.

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