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starcurtain · 4 months ago

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Comparing Phaidei and Other Hoyo MLM Ships (Part 2)

<- Part 1 is back that way.

In the first part of this, I laid out some of the ways Phaidei fits within Hoyo's normal pattern for queer-coded MLM ships: They're equals but opposites, perfectly matched; they've ostensibly got a "rivalry" as a cover for their laser focus on each other; their models are deliberately placed closer together in cutscenes than other characters' are, and they're intentionally paralleled to a heterosexual married couple. All of these are traits that other Hoyo MLM pairs also show, a sort of foundational standard for Hoyo's queer-coded MLM ships.

But then Phaidei just took a huge side-step around all of them, and started doing things that Hoyo hasn't done in any of their other recent games. (Tiny aside here: HI3 does wildly different things with its characters; I think that being first published when Hoyo was a more obscure company allowed them to get away with things--like the Bronya/Seele kiss and Welt and Co.'s cross-dressing, for example--that "modern" Hoyo games cannot get away with due to greater levels of public scrutiny.)

I said it in the other post, but it bears repeating:

You really aren't imagining things--Phaidei is actually different.

So I wanted to take a closer look at what was making it feel so unique, by comparing its differences to other popular Hoyo MLM ships.

Here we go:

1. The Feeling's Mutual

There was no heterosexual explanation for this framing.

In Part 1 of this post, I noted that Hoyo has a typical personality pattern they follow when queer-coding their male characters, particularly in using "difficult" personalities to create an artificial sense of distance between the characters. If one character is angry all the time, or tsundere, or using sarcasm to cover for their fear of getting close to others, Hoyo can mobilize that personality gap as a shield to give anti-LGBT+ players plausible deniability. Hell, there are people still out there genuinely convinced that Alhaitham and Kaveh have a toxic relationship. There are people out there saying Ratio despises Aventurine because he was mean to him one (1) time while undercover. That's how effective injecting a little bit of bickering into a queer-coded relationship is.

Hoyoverse is very, very familiar with creating this delicate balance of teasing the ship while feeding anti-LGBT+ players and censors just enough "Look, they don't like each other; they're arguing!" contrary material to avoid setting anyone off.

Which... makes it absolutely bizarre that they made almost no effort to do this with Phainon and Mydei.

Sure, on paper we're told that Phainon and Mydei are rivals. Phainon describes it as "He's both my friend and my foe." And yes, they have their quips (Phainon's "It's exhausting talking to you sometimes" comes to mind).

But animosity--the genuine desire to one-up each other--is completely missing from Mydei and Phainon's "rivalry." They aren't Sasuke and Naruto. They aren't Izuku and Bakugou. They don't actually even want to beat each other--they want to be equals. If you defeat Mydei in the 3.0 competition, Phainon immediately folds and calls the contest off. If you let Mydei win, Mydei immediately folds and declares no contest.

Although Aglaea notes they compete because they're "impulsive youths," what she was actually missing is that Mydei only let himself be goaded into Phainon's hot bath competition because he was worried about Phainon and wanted to take Phainon's mind off the failed trial. Then, immediately after beating Phainon in the hot bath challenge, he lets Phainon win the "take more people home" challenge, to tie up their score again.

In fact, Mydei and Phainon's relationship is so devoid of the actual back-and-forth typical of other Hoyoverse MLM ships that at one point, Phainon even asks for it:

(Though he's equally quick to demand compliments from Mydei too.)

Instead, virtually every line from Phainon and Mydei through both 3.0 and 3.1 reiterates that they care deeply about each other, and are concerned for not only each other's physical well-being but also each other's mental and emotional health. They freely and consistently support each other both on the battlefield and off, confessing their struggles and relying on each other for advice. Whenever they're separated, the game intentionally hammers home how worried they are without the other around.

Over and over and over again, the devs tell you how well Mydei and Phainon know each other and how much effort they're putting in to take care of each other:

The game doesn't let us forget that they are one another's "closest person," and that the respect they have for each other is mutual. Although I wouldn't go so far as to speculate they actually recognize romantic feelings, canon makes it clear that they are aware their emotional connection goes both ways. They don't just value each other's battle prowess, intelligence, or usefulness--they value each other's feelings explicitly, every single time emotions are expressed between them in the game's text.

In fact, Mydei even scolds Phainon for approaching their goodbye with a straight face; he knows that Phainon is hurt by their parting, and he wants Phainon to be honest, as Mydei is being honest in turn:

The rainbows in the background really sold the scene, ngl.

This isn't Renheng, where resentment has taken away any glimmer of joy. This isn't Ratiorine, where even if Aventurine were in a more stable mindset, Ratio's inability to spit out his feelings might keep them from going anywhere. Even with Haikaveh, the Hoyo ship known for Alhaitham's devotion, Kaveh's own struggles and refusal to accept Alhaitham's kindness are an active plot point keeping them from progressing. Maybe you could draw a parallel between Phaidei and Cyno/Tighnari for levels of "mutual," but even then, Cynari interactions are often left off-screen or in the background, for the players to fill in the blanks. On the contrary, Phainon and Mydei's fondness for each other is constantly in our faces.

The devs wanted players to know Phainon and Mydei are invested. We're supposed to see how much they want to be near each other.

More than that, we're supposed to understand just how deeply they trust each other.

Okay, okay, yes, I know this is massive foreshadowing to the inevitable betrayal and tragedy impending (come on, Amphoreus wouldn't qualify as an ancient Greek drama without it!), but I think that a lot of people are missing the key here: By this point in the story, Mydei already knows how he's going to die. He knows someone is going to stab him in the back and finally end his immortal life. When he entrusts Phainon with this secret, he's not trusting Phainon to keep him safe. He's trusting Phainon to do the opposite.

He's telling Phainon: "I want it to be you."

If the prophecy can't be changed and fate is set in stone, then Mydei wants Phainon to be with him in his final moments, to be the one to finally set him free from the "curse" he perceives his own immortality to be. Of course it would be Hoyo who makes "I want to die by yours hands" into a declaration of ultimate trust, but it is an explicit statement of trust, in a way that very few--if any--other modern Hoyoverse MLM ships get to show each other on screen.

Phew, that was a lot!

But I think this is one of the clearest and most defining differences between Phainon and Mydei and other Hoyo MLM ships--the devs took away players' ability to claim they don't get along. You might still be able to call them "just friends" or "brothers in arms," but unlike Alhaitham and Kaveh who fight, Ratiorine who scheme, or Renheng who are actual enemies, Mydei and Phainon explicitly like each other. They trust each other. They seek one another out.

It might seem like a small thing on paper, but this is actually a big thing in practice. Hoyo is pushing the boundary here, reducing the avenues for deniability. It is harder for anti-LGBT+ fans to claim that Phainon and Mydei don't have obvious in-game ship-tease than for virtually any other modern Hoyoverse MLM ship. (By the way, this is why people have resorted to calling Phaidei "industry plant yaoi;" because they can't deny the queer-coding is actually there this time, they instead have to try to de-legitimize the ship in other ways, such as dismissing it as nothing more than bait.)

This also means Hoyo has less of an "out" if people start to really question. It would be harder to explain away Phainon and Mydei's relationship than it would be to explain away even Alhaitham and Kaveh's. Alhaitham and Kaveh have "They're always arguing" and "Their friendship was ruined by their fight" or "They're just roommates," etc. to lean back on. Phainon and Mydei... are really bad at even pretending to be rivals...

All of this to say: Hoyo made a bold and deliberate choice allowing two of their mainstream male characters to be so emotionally close and attentive to each other on screen. They went outside their own current comfort zone for this one, guys.

2. We're Conspicuously Missing a Twink

Moving on from Phaidei's emotional differences, I wanted to talk specifically about Hoyoverse's perspectives on gay men, and how easy it is for companies to slip into not only stereotypes for gay characters, but also extremely heteronormative portrayals of gay relationships. As sad as it is, it is easier to market queer-coded male characters to yaoi fans (who are often--although obviously not always--heterosexual women) if they fit into the expected pattern for heterosexual relationships: a highly masculine man to "wear the pants" in the relationship, paired with a delicate, effeminate man to obviously be the bottom.

Now, don't get me wrong: Gay relationships come in all varieties; people have different preferences, and categorical groups like "twinks" and "bears" exist so people who have those preferences can find each other. Obviously plenty of hyper-masculine (and just masculine-leaning) gay men do want more effeminate partners. Plenty of real guys consider themselves twinks and have great relationships with men ranging all the way up the most masculine dudes you've ever seen. But "masculine man with feminine man" isn't the only kind of gay relationship around, despite the fact that that's what Hoyo's yaoi shiptease might lead you to believe.

(Edit: I can't believe I have to say this, but it seems some portion the HSR fandom cannot read, so apparently I do: Stop using my post in your hunk/twink or hunk/hunk discourse; if you didn't bother to read the paragraph above this in which I word-for-word point out that real gay relationships come in all varieties, including lots of relationships between masculine men and more effeminate men, then that is on you--this post isn't about how "hunk/hunk" is more "real gay" material or "hurr durr twinks bad;" it's about how Hoyo has served up the exact same ship with different clothes on 13 times in a row, with their constant modus operandi being yaoi genre staple tropes in which one character is essentially designated as the bottom and the other as the top specifically using masculine versus feminine coding, because that is what sells to the yaoi fan demographic they are targeting, particularly to heterosexual female yaoi fans, who are predisposed toward heteronormative relationship patterns even in the gay media they consume. The only situation in which hunk/hunk is "more progressive" than hunk/twink is for Hoyo, who clearly have hunk/twink as their comfort zone and only very, very rarely step out of that established pattern. This entire post is about Hoyo's patterns for creating their mlm ships, not about gay rights activism--read the essay in the context of Hoyo's design philosophy or just stop reading here, fucking please.)

I don't want to say that Hoyo's track record on this front is bad, because honestly it's not. Their male characters often have surprisingly complex expressions of gender identity, with interesting blends of masculine and feminine traits. But... Hoyo does have a pattern. Plenty of their queer-coded MLM ships fall into this same general (and kind of stereotypical) profile: a masculine man with a more feminine man. Alhaitham is inexplicably ripped and represents calm rationality, while Kaveh is "the spitting image of his mother," has to wring out his wrists when he uses his own weapon, and represents passion and romanticism. Ayato is the head of his clan; Thoma holds housekeeping classes for Inazuma's other housewives. Xingqiu is the "refined" rich boy in ruffles; Chongyun is the down-to-earth working lad. Wriothesley is the most masculine man in Genshin Impact; Neuvillette mothers the entire race of Melusines. Over in Star Rail, Aventurine covets pink diamonds, bathes himself in sparkling perfume, and is so tiny Ratio's hands can encircle his waist. (I don't actually think Aventurine is that feminine, but trying to pretend that he isn't designed to evoke queer tropes is just silly.) Moze is as ripped as Alhaitham, while Jiaoqiu is... very pink. I'm going to talk more about Renheng in a sec, but Renheng is also this way, with the more "delicate"-looking Imbibitor Lunae to Yingxing/Blade's solid frame.

Mydei and Phainon don't fit this pattern at all. Both of them are as tall as Star Rail models come, and while Mydei's build has an impressive degree of bulk, Phainon is no slouch either:

Neither one of them is visually effeminate in any manner, and they're also not effeminate in personality or role in the story. Neither of them is a housekeeper or a home-maker; (again, poor Aventurine catching strays, but:) neither of them is in the business of blinding people into deals with their good-looks or careful facade of helplessness.

Theoretically we could say the devs tried to squish Mydei into a more heteronormative role by giving him traditionally "feminine" traits: he cooks, he plays house with children, he puts milk in his juice and turns it pink, he's paralleled almost exclusively to his own mother... But his role in the plot is such a quintessentially masculine story (son of a self-fulfilling prophecy, father-killer, god-slaying warrior, king to his people, aura-farming champion of the Amphoreus battle cutscenes, etc.) that clearly we are not meant to perceive him as a stereotypically feminine figure. The whole "malewife Mydei" thing comes across as so comedic because he is so masculine.

Conversely, Phainon, despite being the "gentler" of the two characters, the one who is described as having a soft heart and being outgoing and kind, is even less suited to being called feminine. His "Messiah"-esque role in the story, literally being the "prodigal son" of Amphoreus, paints him as the very picture of a classical male hero. Even more so than Mydei, he is a private and closed off person who hides his heart--and his own identity--from those around him, traits more often stereotypically associated with emotionally-closed-off men than female characters.

Up to this point, Hoyoverse had a relatively stable pattern in the MLM ships they baited in their recent games. They primarily played it safe, sticking to queer-coding relationships that both visually and narratively reflect heteronormative relationships.

But Phaidei once again broke the mold.

This time, Hoyo chose to queer-code not the more delicate-looking man (although I guess there's still plenty of time for Anaxa, I shouldn't sell him shorter than he already is lol), but two overtly masculine male characters, who can't be readily projected on to a stereotypical heterosexual relationship. This was a big departure from Hoyo's norm, and I think this actually deserves a lot more respect than people are giving it. Hoyo didn't have to pick their two muscle-bound warrior male leads and make them close and caring. They didn't have to expose themselves to the obvious question: "Why are two 'manly' characters being so soft on each other?" It is harder to pass off Phainon and Mydei's queer-coding as accidental, or suggest the fans are just reading too much into it, when nothing about them can be mistaken for a "traditional" heteronormative relationship. For a game produced in China, where standards for depicting men and masculinity in media are so high, making the choice to bait two masculine men together (let alone this expansion's "hero," who is an expy of a beloved former character), was a very bold and risky choice on Hoyo's part.

Companies don't make bold and risky choices on accident.

Finally, I wanted to make one more point about why I appreciate Phaidei's emotionally attentive depiction--it's because there's a whole other realm they could have taken the "definitely going to turn into a villain" queer-coded main character. As I mentioned in the first part of this post, queer-coding villains is a trope as old as dirt. When you queer-code a male villain particularly, you add an extra layer to the danger: Now the male villain is not just a physical threat, but a sexual one. Adding queer-coding to the male villain has often, in past media, been used to conflate homosexuality with deviance or perversion and suggests sexual violence even if nothing ever truly occurs.

Maybe the real Hoyoverse queer-coding was the red flower petals we threw along the way.

I said I was going to bring up Renheng, and here it is: Unfortunately, Blade and Dan Heng fall into this latter pattern a bit. Although he has his reasons, the game's portrayal of Blade's "pursuit," especially in the early portion of their story, casts Dan Heng into the role of the victim, a young man being hounded by a crazed stalker who refuses to let him go. Their cutscenes, including Dan Heng's nightmares, paint Blade as an overwhelming presence who invades both Dan Heng's physical space but also his mental space, making it impossible for Dan Heng to escape his clutches. This "We must pay the price together" absolutely reads, out of content anyway, as some sort of yandere death pact. Their lightcone is literally called "Nowhere to Run."

Even though Blade is not deliberately engaging in any form of sexual behavior, his obsession with Dan Heng in their early scenes can give players the impression of a cliched "depraved homosexual," and the implication that sexual violence could occur is present through their early interactions. This isn't on accident; Hoyo was playing with the yandere trope on purpose! I'm not going to lie, part of Renheng's early appeal for many players was how scary and dominating Blade came across as. The subtle sexual implications of pursuit are the point, and if you think Hoyo wasn't capitalizing on the intersection of "sexy" and "dangerous" with Renheng's early interactions, then you're probably a little too pure for this world.

As things progress, of course, we see this dynamic between Renheng dissipate, shifting his narrative from "crazed pursuer for unknown reasons" to "potentially the victim" of their past scenario, an effect which they achieved through the slow drip feed of Yingxing and Dan Feng's backstories. This, I think, speaks to not only a shift in the devs' intentions for Blade and Dan Heng's relationship (there's more to be said here about the Yingxing-Baiheng-Dan Feng mess that is the cut lore, etc.), but also to a shift in the way the devs wanted Blade to be perceived by fans, from a potentially predatory figure to a much less toxic potential love interest.

Anyway, back to Phaidei: We know that Phainon is headed for a downfall. It's been so obviously foreshadowed at this point that there's really nothing much more to say than that--however, even though he will likely also descend into villainy like Blade, and even though we know he's very likely going to kill Mydei... I don't think that the devs will use Phainon's queer-coding as part of his villainous identity. I don't get any sense that the dev team has any intentions of conflating Phainon's potential homosexuality with depravity, or using it as a motive for his descent into villainy (he might be gay and a villain, but he won't be a villain because he is gay). I definitely don't think we will see the kind of sexually-threatening physicality between Flame Reaver and Mydei that the devs did earlier with Blade and Dan Heng, even if "stabbing someone from behind" does have an inherent sort of sexual symbolism.

I appreciate that even in a story headed for the obvious "stabbed in the back by the villain form of the man I loved," the devs seem like they have moved on from falling into the pitfall (accidentally or intentionally, to sell yandere tropes) of portraying of gay men as predatory.

3. Leave Room for the Trailblazer

In part 1 of this post, I mentioned that Hoyo uses the placements of characters in scenes to indicate closeness, and I already pointed out that Mydei and Phainon stand really... really... close together, much closer than they stand to other characters.

However, it's not just that their models are literally positioned closer together in cutscenes--it's that their body language explicitly closes other characters out. Plenty of Hoyoverse MLM ships are ship-baited by moving the models of the male characters closer together, but very, very few of them are positioned to so consistently exclude even the player.

For comparison, consider the well-known scene where Alhaitham brings the Traveler and Paimon to his and Kaveh's house, which was framed with both domesticity and intimacy:

Although Alhaitham and Kaveh are also prone to the "stand shoulder-to-shoulder" thing that Hoyo does when they want to imply closeness between characters, the framing of their scenes nevertheless leave enough space for the Traveler and Paimon to be active participants in the conversation, enough space between Alhaitham and Kaveh for Traveler to not look blocked out.

For example, despite standing next to each other in that moment above, the camera deliberately cuts Alhaitham out, so that only Kaveh and the Traveler duo occupy the shot. Later on, Alhaitham bridges the divide between the Traveler and Kaveh, turning away from Kaveh toward the Traveler--once again, the conversation and scene are open to the Traveler, and thus, to the player.

Here's a live demonstration of my earlier point: Alhaitham and Kaveh stand closer together than the player and Candace, indicating their closer connection.

Other scenes play out similarly--although Alhaitham and Kaveh are close, their body language doesn't actively exclude other characters or the player from feeling like part of their conversations.

Over in Star Rail, we see the same general situation. We know that Aventurine rarely stands close to other characters, with Ratio being the one relatively consistent exception, but even so, the camera will usually give them some breathing room, making it feel like there's enough space for the player on the other side of the screen to be part of the moment:

Meanwhile Blade excludes both Dan Heng and the player, putting us on equal footing to Dan Heng and giving the impression that the player and Dan Heng are standing against Blade together. There is still room for "us" in this scene.

However, once again, Phaidei proves the exception. Mydei and Phainon don't just stand close--they don't even want to share air with anyone but each other.

A very normal way to have a group conversation. Definitely.

Consistently when standing side-by-side, they turn inward to face each other, rather than facing other characters in the conversation, literally forming a closed unit despite the fact that they're supposed to be in a group scene:

The thirdest third wheel to ever third wheel.

If it wasn't enough for the devs to just imply that the Trailblazer isn't able to break through Mydei and Phainon's circle, they decided to call it out in the text itself, echoing the player's own thoughts: "What about me?"

As I mentioned in the first part of the post, the devs also consistently use specific camera angles to capture both Mydei and Phainon in the frame together, at the same time, further emphasizing the closed nature of their conversations.

You will never see so many over-the-shoulder shots again in your life. You are the outsider looking in!

Perhaps most telling about the devs' intention to create an intimate air for Phainon and Mydei's conversations is that literally everyone else disappears when they speak to each other. For example, Phainon and Mydei's first goodbye takes place in the Garden of Life, which is actually a pretty bustling plaza with numerous NPCs. But every single NPC was deliberately removed by the dev team for Mydei and Phainon's scene there, to allow them a private moment:

Even in their final farewell, where Mydei was seen off by a literal bustling crowd of NPCs, not a single person is visible during their goodbyes--until the exact moment Mydei reminds Phainon that the whole rest of the world is waiting for him. The whole rest of the world didn't even exist for Phainon until Mydei forced him to remember.

It's not just the Trailblazer (and us, the player) who is third wheeling Mydei and Phainon's relationship. They literally exist in a world of their own when they speak to each other. No other modern Hoyoverse ship is on this level of excluding even the player--excluding even the damn NPCs!--to make a point about their closeness.

I thought I was going crazy the first time I was watching these scenes, thinking "It can't be that the devs actually went that far in framing Mydei and Phainon as a pair." But they did. They actually did.

The envelope has been pushed off a mountain, my guys.

But that still wasn't enough for the devs. They needed to go further.

4. Deploy Shoujo Manga Trope #57

I know I just said that Phainon and Mydei's relationship doesn't map well a typical heteronormative male/female relationship, but that doesn't mean the devs gave up on any and all attempts to apply typical romantic cliches to Phaidei. On the contrary, the dev team's thought process seems to have been "Hey, we're doubling-down on our queer-coding for Phainon and Mydei. How can we make it really, really, really obvious they're a ship?" And then they literally spun a roulette wheel of romantic tropes and threw every single one of them at patch 3.1 at the same time.

We have the "romantic lead beautifully framed by red rose petals blood glitter":

The "You used my love to manipulate me" subplot:

Phainon begs for compliments, and Mydei's reaction is to look away demurely and call him a scoundrel?? Am I seeing things?!

This is where he'd be blushing like a tomato if he was a female character.

The "please look after my dear husband when I'm gone" tragedy trope:

THE RING???

"LET'S MEET AGAIN IN THE NEXT LIFE"?!!

What do I even say about all... this...? Do I even need to say anything at all? Has any MLM ship in a recent Hoyoverse game gotten remotely as many romance flags? Alhaitham, where is Kaveh's ring?!

What I actually want to say isn't a specific breakdown of any of these moments, but what they mean in totality. Remember that Hoyo made every one of these choices with deliberate intent. They knew what the picture would add up to. These are explicitly romantic tropes that are extremely difficult to interpret in other lights.

You are supposed to read "If there's a chance in the next life" as "I want to be reincarnated with you; I want to meet you again; I want to be with you in a softer world."

You're supposed to think of the ring as a wedding ring. For one, Gorgo would only have gotten it through her marriage to Eurypon, but even more so--there was no reason this item needed to be a ring in the first place except to evoke images of wedding rings. We already knew from 3.0 that Castrum Kremnos used crests and seals for identification. Why make it a ring and not just the crest of Castrum Kremnos? Furthermore, why involve Phainon at all? The audience would never have known any different if Chartonus just said "Found this I did, have it you should, Mydei." It's a ring and it's a ring deliberately from Phainon because the devs want you to see it as a wedding ring.

What an incredibly bold move on Hoyo's part, and I don't even really mean just in the context of being a Chinese company, but even in the context of being a global company. Hoyo lives and dies by the revenue of their character banners, and choosing to explicitly and (nearly) exclusively apply romantic tropes to their male lead and deuteragonist in a brand-new patch cycle was a legitimately daring choice. Their deliberate application of romantic staples to an MLM ship, in a way that is difficult even for anti-LGBT+ fans to write off, was a very, very calculated decision. I genuinely hope it pays off for them. I hope Mydei and Phainon's banners both sell well, so the devs' receive a clear message in turn that fans appreciated their boldness and their commitment to creating queer content for these two characters.

I'm just going to end on one final note, about a scene that you may have noticed I conveniently skipped. Yes, the most conspicuous scene of them all:

5. A+ Censor Dodging

By some miracle of obliviousness, some Olympic-level mental gymnastics, or by sheer force of will, I think some people might still have made it to this point thinking that Phaidei was not being deliberately baited by the devs. You could maybe, somehow, convince yourself that the blood glitter rose petals and the shoulder-to-shoulder emotional conversations were just coincidences, that the tsundere "I'm not worried about him" was just dudes being tough guys, that the Trailblazer was a third wheel because Phainon and Mydei are "just good friends."

But then devs said "No, we need to be unmistakable. We need to make ourselves 1000% clear. We are baiting the yaoi fangirls, guys; please stop ignoring our hard work."

If going further than they've ever gone with Mydei and Phainon's body language wasn't enough, if Phainon's being willing to kill a god to save his man wasn't enough, if implying a wedding ring wasn't enough, what else could the devs possibly do to remove all plausible deniability and make it undeniably clear that Mydei and Phainon are queer characters (even if it is only for the benefit of yaoi fangirls)?

They can do something they've never done in their recent games before: Imply actual sex between male characters.

(Side note, Hoyo lesbians have had this implied sexual content pass from the beginning. You will always be famous, Beiguang. It's only the male characters that can't even have implied sex. 😂)

Obviously Phainon and Mydei are not having sex in the game. The dialogue even goes out of its way afterward to remind us that they remained fully clothed in that bath, thank you. But the refusal to show what was actually happening--censorship used as a tool to imply--the cut to the black screen, the narration of one animal pursuing another, the discretionary water droplets between the moaning... (And another little edit because @mynabirb made such a good point in the tags: The fact that they chose to "censor" this with a butterfly, the literal symbol of romance in Amphoreus, is almost too much. The devs really did say "Time to silence all doubts.")

From the player's perspective--and examining this as a choice on the dev team's part--there is no way to read this scene other than "sexually suggestive." You're supposed to think "This sounds incredibly sus." Because it is sus. Because the devs added this scene knowing that it would intentionally make people think about the idea of Phainon and Mydei having sex.

Sure, this scene is really funny in context. You're supposed to come out of it laughing, going "Wow, they're idiots." But you will also, whether you like it or not, come out of this thinking "Damn, Hoyo really went all in on the yaoi bait, didn't they?"

You can't "Devs didn't mean it" out of this one.

Which is brave as hell on Hoyo's part, to be honest! Even if this is nothing but queer-baiting, they saw that sick yaoi fan money and decided to go all in on it.

Say it with me: A dev team from a country with notoriously strict rules against depictions of homosexuality in media, from a company with a huge global fanbase including many conservative and religious countries, and with a majority male target audience, went out of their way to undeniably include sexually suggestive gay content in their game.

Whatever their motivation--be it simply money or from a genuine desire to tell gay stories--this wasn't a casual decision. This took commitment. This decision almost certainly went all the way to the top brass of the team for clearance. Someone probably had to fight to get this added.

But they did it, and not with Kaveh and Alhaitham (the previously undisputed kings of current Hoyoverse queer-coding) but with two brand-new (to Star Rail at least) characters who have extremely important roles in the game's on-going narrative--major characters who can't be overlooked.

Phaidei is literally built different.

But I'm still left with one lingering question:

Is Hoyo queer-coding or just queer-baiting?

Even though I played 3.1 in a sort of stupefied haze because I actually couldn't believe what I was seeing in Phainon and Mydei's scenes, I also ended it with a pretty bittersweet feeling.

How amazing that Hoyo pushed the envelope so far with Phaidei... But at what cost?

Did Mydei really have to leave Okhema never to return? Or is he being banished from the plot because his relationship with Phainon was too intense?

Isn't this just the "bury your gays" trope, in essence?

Lore-wise, there isn't any reason Mydei actually has to leave Okhema forever. Sure, he presumably is going to fight the Black Tide where it manifests across Amphoreus, but what about that requires him to "never return"? Demigods aren't geographically bound to the locations their Titans blessed, or Aglaea and Anaxa wouldn't be able to leave the Grove. There shouldn't be any reason Mydei can't visit Okhema when he wants.

The more you think about it, the worse it looks that the dev team implied Phaidei harder than they've ever implied an MLM ship before, only to immediately turn around and go "And then Mydei left forever." As if the only way it's okay to make characters that gay is if you then get rid of at least one of them. (Speaking humorously, at the rate Phainon and Mydei were going, if the devs didn't get rid of Mydei, he and Phainon probably would have been making out on-screen by 3.2, but you know what I mean.)

Sure Phaidei can be the MLM Star Rail ship with the most support in canon--but only at the cost of never being seen together again, apparently.

I'm not sure I like this trade off.

However, I am telling myself to remain cautiously optimistic. We know that Mydei's role in the story is not done, and that he and Phainon are destined for at least one more reunion, even if it won't be a happy one. We've been told that Amphoreus's story will be "heart-warming." I choose to believe that the devs will try to scrabble some sort of positive ending out of all this. At the very least, perhaps we'll end with a "in another life montage," and get to see Phainon and Mydei finally meeting in that library.

So is Hoyo queer-coding from a genuine desire to include gay characters or just baiting hard to sell Mydei to fangirls?

I'd say let's wait and see. Amphoreus has barely started cooking.

In the meantime, I think it is worth examining (and appreciating) Hoyo's willingness to mix up their own patterns, break their own trends, and to try something truly new and different with Phaidei. Even if this is all the content we ever get, Hoyoverse did things they haven't done before in any of their recent games, and showed that they're willing to push the limits for queer content in order to tell the stories they really want to tell.

I am a served fan, Hoyo. Well played, well played.

#honkai star rail #phaidei #mydei #phainon #hoyoverse #queer-coding #oh my god it's finally done #this got away from me so much #I really said “Someone's gonna have to write the essay”#and then that someone ended up being me #there are some other ships mentioned here #haikaveh #renheng #ratiorine #only mentions though #sorry #now... I can sleep...

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ghouljams · 29 days ago

Note

I'm fully smitten with Mr. and Mrs. Riley. Call me trite, but I love some good old high school sweethearts. But I also think that getting married that young would definitely raise a few eyebrows.

You know that feeling you get when you see people your age start to do grown up things, like getting engaged or buying a house? I imagine that's what your acquaintances at uni feel like when they find out you're married.

People know that you have someone, because every now and then there will be a mention of "my Simon". So you have A Simon, whatever that means.

Eventually it always comes up in conversation. Someone will ask if you have plans with your boyfriend for the summer, to which you respond "oh, he's not my boyfriend." This revelation causes the person you're speaking with to think they've fully stepped in it. Had the two of you broken up recently? Or were you just in some sort of long-term situationship? Their train of thought gets swiftly interrupted by you going "he's my husband."

While they silently question how the fuck someone in their early twenties has a fucking husband, you happily chat on about your summer plans.

It's not like you planned on getting married young. It's just that your Simon has a terribly dangerous job and a terribly big heart, and he won't leave a man behind. He'd looked so guilty telling you how he'd run into a fire fight to drag a man to safety, apologized, he knew he promised you not to do anything dangerous and-

Well... How could you not marry a man like that?

It does raise some eyebrows though. You try not to advertise your marriage. You don't have a ring, neither you nor Simon had the money for one. You don't have a house, again, money. You don't have kids, though you do think about them often. Really the only thing you have are the stories that you and Simon have made together. Walks in the park that had you pulling him out of the pond. Movie theaters that kicked you out for crying too loudly (and for Simon arguing with the usher). Nights at the pub that ended in great heaving laughter. You're sure you paint a pretty picture of your relationship.

Your Simon. You don't have anything else to call him, he is yours. More than just a husband, he's your best friend, and besides it still feels so strange to say that. ("My God we're like child brides," you'd told him as you were signing the papers. "Worse," he'd joked, "we're military wives.")

You make it through two years of university, and multiple deployments before any of your uni friends find out you're married, and it happens in the worst way.

Your Simon goes missing in action somewhere in Mexico.

You get a call as you're walking out of lecture, and when your friend asks what's wrong (following your complete breakdown into tears in the middle of the sidewalk) you tell them that your husband is MIA. They can't tell you where, why, or how, but they do tell you to prepare for the worst.

Weeks with no news. Barely eating, barely eating, only doing your work because there has to be somewhere for Simon to come home to if they ever find him. Two months pass in a sick haze of lectures and part-time work.

Another call, while you're working this time. You barely apologize to your boss before rushing out, a hastily scribbled hospital name clutched on notebook paper between your fingers. You don't even notice the distance, time barely passes from point A to point B. One moment you're at work, the next you're standing beside a hospital bed.

He looks rough, nose broken, eyes ringed in purple, gauze covering half his chest, leg broken, angry red scars raised on any uncovered skin, but it's your Simon. The brown of his eyes is as soft as it's ever been, and his cracked lips still smile when he sees you. He's alive, and this- this is far from the worst thing you could have prepared for.

And you're so young suddenly, crying like a child at nearly losing your best friend, big wracking sobs that nearly crumple you because your heart is still here with you. It's Simon that lays a big hand on your head and comforts you.

"Told ya I'd come back," He reminds you, "Jus'took a minute."

He doesn't give you any details until he's out of the hospital. Not until you're both cuddled up in the just slightly too small bed that fills your bedroom in your definitely too small flat. The duvet is heavy and Simon still can't rest on his side, but you cuddle close, listening to him walk you through Mexico with a heavy heart. Classified. He keeps repeating it, like that will make it easier for you to digest. The secrecy of it when he tells you about dragging Washington to safety. It makes your stomach squirm. 'He shouldn't have done that' you think guiltily, 'he should've saved himself.'

You don't feel as guilty when Simon meets Washington again and tells you, "'e did somethin' odd, not sittin' right wi' me."

Makes you feel better screaming and shouting when you spot Simon's brother in arms tailing you on campus, when he grabs you and you kick him in the balls just like Simon showed you. The cops find a gun on him, he spews vitriol, spouts manifestos. Brainwashed, they tell Simon.

It's hard to keep a marriage under wraps when the city paper writes a story about you. "Terrorism in Manchester" is front-page news, after all.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost modern warfare #the divorced price au

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reneissence · 28 days ago

Note

Hello could I have an HSR request how the female reader found a chimera that looks just like them and brought it home. For Phainon and or Mydei pls. Thank youu!!

— “Twins n furs„

feat. Phainon, Mydei — fluff, female reader, i decided to write for both of them anon!

template by cobosxv on devientart

Curled up near of the flowerbed, your fingers graze the warm fur of the chimera, who jumps straight into your arms at the sensation of your touch. And it's, well, you? Not a doppelganger, but the pet did share your style:

Same hair shape, eyes color, even that little tick. And the adorable little thing nuzzles against your arm like they known you for a while.

By the time you return to your assigned room, clutching the soft snoring chimera like a baby, Phanion greets you at the door with an arched brow.

"Is that—? Why does it look exactly like you?"

"Wish i knew! They just...connected with me in a way and i wouldn't just leave them.."

You sat on the couch with the chimera still nestled securely on your lap, Phanion following you behind with a face lighting up with fascination the moment he sees it properly. He leans his chin against your shoulder, watching the creature snooze

"Okay, this is, unfairly cute, and it look really cuddly just like you."

"What does that even mean? And stop staring at me like that."

"But i always do when i like what i see?" smooth reply and voice dropping into that teasing tone, hearing his words made you roll your eyes in annoyance despite the heat rising up in your body, his fingers went up lacing with yours while also petting the chimera's fur.

"So, since it looks like a tiny you and we're together...does this mean i get to do some parenting? Feeding times, bath schedules, name selection…"

"Phanion, you're such a romantic..."

"Well, we are going to take care of it like it's our baby."

Flustered, you hid your face on your free hand as Phainon laugh, pressing a kiss on your temple.

"So what name we'll choose?"

It's in the courtyard that you found it: a small, wide-eyed chimera peeking out from under bushes with its colored fur that glowed in the sun, familiar and possibly you. the creature didn’t run away, just stood looking up at you with gleaming eyes before coming closer, rubbing against your leg.

"Hey there, little one…"

Now, hours later, you awkwardly stood in the shared room, clutching the chimera as Mydei been staring at the bundle in your arms for some good minutes, hand brushing its tiny paw.

"It mirrors you almost perfectly, how adorable."

"It just appeared like that i guess...i didn't want it to leave in the garden either, and i had to show it to you too!"

"You're not imagining it, that chimera really looks like you, and they are as gentle and respectful just as you."

You smile at his compliment, but right when you were about to take a seat, the chimera jump out of your arms to Mydei, who immediately welcomed them out of worry, at the sudden act.

And they were acting like a clingy feline, as if Mydei was their territory, stretching and purr in his arms.

"Haha! It's even a spitting copy of your personality too, clinging to my body just like often do."

"Me? Hah, wow."

Mydei continues to laugh at you not arguing back, your cheeks lightly puffing at the sight of him playing with your lookalike chimera, that seems just as attached to Mydei as it was to you. After all, you did naturally gravitated toward him too.

"You know, it starting to feels like a sort of family, and it's kinda cute."

#hsr x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fluff #phainon x reader #phainon fluff #hsr phainon #mydei x reader #mydei fluff #hsr mydei

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keferon · 4 months ago

Note

Two Peas in a Pod: part 4/?

Hopefully the dialog isn't confusing.

______________________________

"Still dizzy?"

"Not really," Jazz answered with a comfortable smile, though stole a quick glance over to the gate. The first since Blaster had arrived for the morning routine. The other mer wasn't awake yet last he saw, but he was shifting more. The medication had obviously long worn off by now, but Jazz still hoped they weren't in too much pain.

But Blaster noticed and it prompted him to pause his checks to ask, "did he wake up last night?"

"Kinda? He could have been talking in his sleep though."

"Hm, there's a good chance he'll be up soon, then."

Jazz's expression of his usual cheerfulness shifted, just slightly and if it had been anyone other than Blaster, they would have missed it. He flipped the clipboard over in his lap and rested his elbows against his crossed legs.

"You're nervous," Blaster pointed out gently and gave Jazz an encouraging smile. "Is this about their injuries, or is this about making a friend?"

The mer's face soured and he looked away. "I thought I wasn't supposed to ask."

"That was about the gate, and I'm sorry about that." It was just the two of them on the pier, but Blaster still practised a surveying sweep of the area with what looked like stretching. Then with a lower voice, he continued, "The Vet Chief wanted to fully isolate them from you, to keep them in a transfer-crate, at least until the injuries had a low risk of reopening. I argued that it would put them under a lot of undue stress, and you because you knew the Mer was here. Which is part of why it took so long for–"

"–and it's fine to say this now?" Jazz snapped and turned back to him with a small scowl.

"Jazz, how many staff members were in your area yesterday? When we talked about the gate?"

He paused, trying to recall. Blaster was with him and the group that went into the bay had five… seven?

"There was thirteen, Jazz," he supplied, knowing that any answer coming would be incorrect. It was a lot of people, and with Blaster already known for making waves on the regular, the sudden addition had eyes and ears on him. That, and because he had fought so hard against the 'great idea' brought up in the first meeting after emergency treatment had ended. "You didn't even clock the vet on standby at the pier entrance."

Jazz huffed and laid out flat, resting his chin on his crossed arms. Okay, so he wasn’t paying attention to who was around. "Then what is it about the gate? I get the bit about climbing the walls, but…"

"That one is on me, I was – am – being overly cautious. Not of you, but of others misunderstanding your excitement or anxiety as aggression. And I know how persistent you can be when something catches your interest. But that's not the point, what is, is that if the team reports you showing signs of aggression, they'll… remove him."

Now looking worried, Jazz glanced from Blaster to the gate. "But what if he shows aggression?"

"We're expecting that, at least at first." Blaster wanted to reassure him, but there were still too many unknown variables. "Unknown place with an unfamiliar face, and likely limited communication. There is bound to be backlash."

Jazz looked down with an expression of growing despair, before dropping his face against his arms. His words muffled, "so whether he stays or not depends on me being able to talk with him."

Blaster reached out and placed his hand on the orca's shoulder. "Listen, buddy, this might be hard to hear. But let me explain, okay? … So far it looks like there are no issues and the current plan is to have him released once he recovers." As he feels Jazz tense, Blaster frowns in understanding and begins to rub his shoulder to comfort him. "There is only one reason that the aquarium wouldn't go through with it, and honestly, I don't want that to happen. It's all sorts of fucked up and would only make things worse– but I don't want you to distance yourself from him. I want you to try and befriend him."

"… why," Jazz asked weakly, cursing him for telling him the truth – for reminding him of the truth – for breaking his small piece of hope of not being alone anymore. If he was going to be taken away, if he was just going to lose him no matter what, then it would hurt less if he just ignored him.

All sorts of answers bounce around in Blaster's mind. From wishful thinking – because I want you to go with him. To long term goals – anything we could learn could help Mers everywhere. But he settled on as close to the truth as he could. "Because I'm trying to make sure that no matter what happens, it's the best result for both of you. But I can't do that if the two of you can't at least work together. So, I'm asking you to try."

"Right," because he doesn't need to be kept here to survive… he just needs time to heal. Where I – "–right. Okay, I'll try… but where do I even start?" Jazz took a deep breath to compose himself before he lifted his head.

"Well, why don't we see if sleepy-head is waking up? Maybe he'd like breakfast." Blaster offered, first with a reassuring smile, but then twisted it into something more mischievous. "And maybe you could find out if he's got a beautiful name, too."

It took a second to realize what Blaster was getting at, and for the first time in his life Jazz felt bashful. "W-what are you talking about?" He hid it terribly.

"He's beautiful~" he whispered dramatically, and Blaster learned that mers could in fact blush.

—

When Blaster left to get food for the wild mer, Jazz calmly made his way over to the view port. Only to be taken by surprise, he was looking directly at Jazz. Though, glaring, might be more accurate with how his face was pulled tight with focus and the sheer intensity of his stare.

But otherwise, they were completely calm. Jazz wasn't sure if that was a good sign or bad. Yet, it didn't stop his nervous excitement from returning. He waved with one of his best smiles – one without teeth – and greeted him with a friendly, "hello!"

What he got in return was a slightly more intense furrowing of their brow – irritation or confusion?

"Oh! Sorry, habit." Jazz switched to mer. {Hi!}

The tension didn't leave his face, but there was slight movement and, again, Jazz didn't know how to interpret that. But he did answer, {||၊|။||||•။၊|။|။|၊|။||၊၊၊|?}

"Uh…" Yep, didn't understand any of that.

Then the door opened on the edge behind them and Jazz for a moment thought that it would startle the wild mer. But they didn't even flinch. And while their eyes remained on him, Jazz was fairly sure now that they had been using their sonar to track the human's movement.

"Are they still asleep?" Blaster asked, puzzled.

"Nope, very much awake." He shifted lower to try and get more than the man's boots in his sight.

"Ah…" He sounded uneasy and began to make small careful steps around the edge closer to Jazz while he spoke as calmly as possible. "Well, I'm going to keep talking, just so you don't think I'm trying to sneak up on you."

When he reached the point where he was straight across from the wild mer, they lifted their head to turn their glare on the human. Blaster to his credit did not flinch, but he did freeze. "Whoa– that's – wow, t-that's quite the look."

A series of slow clicks came from them, but their lips did not move. Jazz didn't think it was echo-speak, as it reminded him of his own searching clicks when he was trying to get a better picture. "Oh! I think he's trying to see what you have."

The wild mer glanced to Jazz, becoming silent once more before looking back up at Blaster.

"Fair enough, alright new buddy, I'm going to be real slow about it okay?" Back to narrating his actions calmly as he knelt down. Showing the long pole with a thin, blunt hook, "just an arm I don't mind losing if you decide that you don't like the breakfast I brought," and poured out the fish from the bucket.

Still the wild mer glared, unblinking and watching every little movement.

"Okay… I'm not sure what to make of this, so far everything has been nothing like previous encounters."

"Ya, didn't you say he'd be freaking out?"

"You got anything to calm or reassure our new buddy here that I ain't going to hurt him?" Blaster was doing his absolute best at trying to remain calm, but even his hands were starting to tremble under the pressure the wild mer was giving him. He wasn't even moving, just watching, but it felt like the human was being stalked.

Honestly, Blaster was probably one bad move from being lunged at. Though, if that was the case, he had maybe one chance to get away. The hammock would throw him off on the first strike, the supports could probably take two or four hard thrashings before it snapped under the mer's strength. Injuries be damned, this mer was in peak physical condition.

Jazz gave a small chirp to try and gain the other's attention, and failed, but continued with trying to talk. {It's okay, you're safe.}

He was given a very tiny dip of his finial facing the gate – a tell that he had heard him?

{You're safe,} Jazz repeated.

The mer didn't look away, but he did at least respond. {•၊၊|•|၊|။။၊|။•|||။||||။၊|။•၊၊||၊|။||||။•၊|။•၊၊||၊|။||||��၊|။•} Though, far too fast for Jazz attempt to understand.

"I'm hoping you two are talking about your favourite fish." Blaster joked to cover his nervousness.

Jazz sighed and admitted the truth, "I haven't a clue to what they're talking about…"

"Just let me know if I should run, kay?" He shifted slowly on his knees, trying to find a comfortable spot without making himself too vulnerable.

But Jazz hadn't given up yet. {Hungry?} He tried instead.

More chirps and clicking that didn't translate.

{Hungry? Yes? No?}

The heavy huff that came from them caused Blaster to flinch, but the mer finally focused on Jazz. There was clear irritation in their face now on top of glaring. And the damns broke, he started ranting at him loudly.

"Hey, don't yell at me, I'm trying okay!?" Jazz glared back, not backing down. Though wasn't all that intimidating with him just having a little porthole to look through.

"Jazz, buddy, please don't aggravate him." He, after all, was the one in the room with the wild mer.

"He fuckn' started it!"

Silence came quickly as the wild mer plunked his face into the soft floaty that had been his pillow. Blaster would have found it utterly hilarious if not fearing for his life currently. With another heavy and long huff, the wild mer looked back at Jazz, still glaring, but slightly less than before. {•|||။||||။၊|။•၊၊||၊|။? Yes? No?}

Jazz blinked at him for a moment, depending on the question, no could be a yes. {No…?} He answered tentatively instead.

{It's safe? Yes? No?} And he pointed his nose towards Blaster briefly, but clearly wasn't happy about it.

{Yes!} Jazz nodded vigorously and smiled for extra encouragement. Out of all the staff, Blaster was safe, Jazz held some trust in the human after all. {[Blaster] safe.}

"What about me?"

"He asked if you're safe and I told him you were. Relax a bit or something to show him."

Easier said than done. Blaster cursed, but did his best to ease the tension from his shoulders and smile a little. Even, daring to slowly lift a hand to wave.

The mer did not seem convinced, but his glare lessened some more and looked over the human with more curiosity than before.

{Hungry? Yes? No?} Jazz tried again.

There was a long pause, but they sighed and answered. {… yes.}

"Progress!" He cheered and then stuck his hand through the little window. "Blaster, hand me one of the fish. He's hungry, but I have a feeling that he'll trust you more if he sees me eat what you have."

"Okay." He made sure that it was clear as possible what his intentions were. Taking a fish under the gills, Blaster looped the blunt hook in and out the mouth. Then, very slowly, began to feed the length of the pole towards Jazz's waiting hand. Once Jazz felt the tail touch his palm, he grabbed it and waited until Blaster twisted enough for the fish to slip free. Then the pole was just as slowly drawn back.

The whole time the wild mer watching the exchange intensely.

Jazz pulled the fish over to his side, chirped for the other's attention before he swallowed it whole. Smiling once more as he said, {safe.}

Blaster had to admit, he was surprised when the mer shifted slightly in the hammock, and then cautiously held out his right hand. The glare never left, but this one felt like a threat, that if he messed this chance up, there would not be another.

Though this was the first time Jazz had been able to see any of his injuries. The colourful tape-bandages almost covered every inch of his skin from his hand up to his bicep. It reminded him that just yesterday he had been mortally wounded. Which was probably a key reason the wild mer seemed so calm, they had only started to recover and every action was either painful or exhausting. Likely both.

Jazz watched closely as Blaster went through all the careful steps as he had with Jazz and held the fish out. The only difference, was that the human's grip was loose, just in case the wild mer decided to try and yank him into the water with it. But they didn't, doing exactly as they saw before, allowing Blaster to release the fish and retreat. The whole process was so slow that the wild mer's arm started to shake from being held out.

But both Jazz and Blaster let out a breath of relief as there had been no backlash.

He eyed the fish in his grip with a mild sneer before he swallowed it and then held out his shaky hand for another. It was clear that the pain was getting to him, but nothing in his expression showed weakness.

The feeding got easier and quicker as Blaster relaxed a bit, not fearing that a normal pace would come off as threatening to the wild mer.

When the shaking got bad enough, the mer rested his arm back in the hammock, but kept his eyes on the remaining fish. As if to convey he wasn't finished, just needed a break. Blaster was more than happy to comply and gave him a few praises, even if they didn't understand.

"Hey," Jazz called gently, chirping for the other's attention. He waited until they looked his way, then pointed at himself. "Jazz," and then to the human, "Blaster," and back to himself once more, "Jazz," before pointing to the other mer with a questioning tilt of his head. He hoped it was clear what he was asking for.

When the silence stretched on for a bit, the human also joined in. "Blaster," to himself and to his mer, "Jazz."

There was a brief moment that Jazz could see that they were working over something, opening their mouth a few times before the sound of a sharp zip came out. "… 'tzz?"

Jazz snorted, before breaking into a few chuckles. "Ya, missing the Ja, but you'll get there. I'm Jazz." He placed a hand over his heart.

The gesture was reflected, {•၊||၊။}

It was his turn to try and work out the sound in his head. Jazz tried the word out soundlessly on his tongue once. It was like a popping roll? {•၊||၊၊၊၊၊?}

{•၊||၊။} they repeated, firmly correcting him.

"Nice to meet ya, {•၊||၊၊၊၊၊}!" While the mer scowled at him for not even trying to fix his pronunciation, Jazz just smiled brightly.

"So... what is his name?" Blaster asked for a translation, very interested in the development between them.

Jazz laughed, "I have no idea."

______________________________

Don't ask about my attempt to make sound-wave-like-text, it's gibberish, lol, and going forward only •၊||၊။ (Prowl) & •၊||၊၊၊၊၊ (Prowler) will be used until Jazz has a English (common?) name to attach an understanding to.

Keferon, I just wanted to say that every comment or tag you leave on the fic is like serotonin being injected into my veins. Every silly little image is like rolling down a grassy hill in the warm sun while I laugh with manic joy. When you add art, it's like an adrenaline shot to the heart that makes me want to run across the globe just to frantically wave hello with both hands, give you a hug and run back to get started on the next part.

And the next part will be Prowl joining Jazz in the main pool and Jazz learning just how fast he is, even while injured. >:)c

-GLC

𓆝 Previous 𓆟 Next

---------------------

Me looking in my inbox and seeing that there's two peas in a po

Odjndgdjdkfhdkm PLEASE. Blaster is so nervous EVERYONE IS SO NERVOUS Ooohhhnooo he's gonna freak out and kill everything he can reach oh no we all know how all those wild stupid creatures are oh no watch out While Prowl is trying to blow their pancakes with mind

And I juswannasay I love it so much ehehejgknfbfkdn THE SOUND WAVE SPEACH? I LOVE THE LOOK OF IT EHEHEH

Always a big fan of creative ways of showing imaginary languages. This thing?? ||ll•|Il It looks hella stylish >:O

Aaannnndd I got excited and made some art hehe

#maccadam #transformers #apocalyptic ponyo #jazz #prowl #jazzprowl #blaster #Blaster is slowly but steadily growing on me....huh #kinda torn apart with his design because technically all staff has to wear swim suits around pools. But also the whole Blasters design?#it screeeeammms “big hoodies and jackets”. he is SO blocky in canon. I can't imagine him in a swim suit lol #also IM SO FUCKING EXCITED FOR JP TO GET IN A SAME POOL OHOJFNFB ITS GONNA BE SO FUN #I love how you write them #I LOVE how I read the fic and from time to time I go #“huh I didn't consider that before”#like. I loooove when characters in a fic can do stuff in a way that is smarter than what I expected #and I have this little “oh wow okay” moment #it's not even about big plot. just. little things haha #also ahahahah I love how Jazz keeps “talking” to Prowl while simultaneously having NO idea what are they even talking about #like of course they have to have their first argument before they can even properly understand each other. My favorite JP flavor right here #fuck wait I need to add important tags before I run out of the space for them #ponyo jp writing #GLC #............I just realized I drew almost identical sketch with Jazz and this tiny ass window......#the pose is literally the same but it's drawn from scratch. lmao. oh well #Blaster is actively fearing for his life is the only real one here😔✊#Ohhhhoho Prowl is about to see how fucked up Jazz's situation is #everything. how he is too thin how his fins are curled and fucked how he has to perform for humans EVERYTHING #This fic is a fucking national treasure of this blog I tell you

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girlsworldillusion · 4 months ago

Text

we can't be friends

Ex!Aemond - Fem!Reader

Exes to lovers

Summary: After a whole year together, he broke up with you like it was no big deal. What happens when you see each other after four months apart? In the middle of Baela's birthday party, can you control yourself enough not to cause a scene? You just need to get through the night and then you can forget again the man who broke your heart, something that becomes increasingly difficult as the hours go by.

Rated: Explicit (+18)

Word count: 9k

Dividers: @cafekitsune

Enjoy!

⚠️ English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you may find ⚠️

Daemon and Laena Targaryen’s luxurious mansion buzzes with polite conversation and classic music. The expensive, sophisticated decor and lavish catering service speak of the family’s high status — a grand, refined event that not even the birthday girl could refuse, even though she had vehemently expressed the entire way that would prefer something far less formal and elegant than this.

A raucous celebration at a bar somewhere in town, surrounded by loud laughter and the indiscreet company of her truly friends, if you were to guess.

A celebration that you, like any good friend would, were secretly orchestrating to throw after this seemingly endless event — a sort of surprise after-party so that she could actually enjoy her own birthday.

But the Targaryens had a reputation to uphold, and the birthday of Daemon Targaryen’s eldest daughter was a social event that could not be easily ignored. So, in a moment induced purely by her almost desperate pressure, you promised that you would be here tonight, supporting your friend during this unnecessarily ostentatious party with people that, for the most part, you didn't even know.

But that was a monumental mistake.

Well, realistically, you know why you were here and you know that it was the right thing to do. But still...no, you don't know why you thought for a second that this would be a good idea.

"Maybe you should just talk to him."

Baela, the sole reason you had subjected yourself to being among these people, comments quietly to you. Her violet gaze peeking discreetly over the rim of her glass at something - someone - behind you.

"Wait, w-what -" You ask more shrilly than you intended, almost spitting out the bubbly sip of champagne you had just poured into your mouth, narrowing your eyes at her. "Why? Why would you say something like that?"

"Um, maybe because he's been staring at you all night? Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if there were holes in the back of your head right now. He's not being the least bit discreet about it." She shrugs, giving a tight, artificially friendly smile when a lady twice your age walks by and compliments her on the elegant decor of the party. Baela rolls her eyes as she walks away, determinedly taking another generous sip of her drink, as if seeking liquid encouragement to continue enduring these interactions.

"You guys should just talk, is what I mean." She waves her hand lightly at you, as if the situation were so simple.

You don't agree out loud with her first observation, but inwardly you find yourself unable to deny it. Your skin is crawling and your senses are on high alert, feeling the weight of his attention on you like a tangled web of webs that you can't untangle.

"Don't be dramatic, I won't do such a thing. Just ignore him, he'll give in eventually." You mutter sullenly.

Baela tilts her head and arches a silver eyebrow, sending you a look that you immediately interpret as a 'you know who we're talking about, right?', but you just roll your eyes as click your tongue, determined not to let her push the subject any further.

"Anyway, don't you have anything better to do than sit here worrying unnecessarily about my life? For heaven's sake, you're the birthday girl, go entertain your countless guests and leave me alone for once."

She's about to argue, but fate seems to be on your side for once and Laena, her mother, appears at that moment.

"Baebae, sweetie, come with me, I'd like to introduce you to a great friend from the office. Oh, you're going to love her!" The elegant woman beams with excitement, sending you a mischievous wink as she basically pulls her daughter away.

"Hey, mom! W-wait, I was in the middle of an important thing and-!" Baela stumbles, both over her words and her own feet, as she is insistently dragged into the room, turning her head to you with a frustrated cry. "Don't even think this ends here, we'll talk more once I get rid of her!"

"Sure, sure, I'll be waiting right here." You shout back, pressing your lips together to suppress your smile before lifting the glass and taking another sip of champagne.

The funny scene, however, distracts you for only a few seconds and soon you find yourself alone and very out of place in the center of the main hall, surrounded by strangers and fancy music, with your ex's intense gaze burning into the back of your neck like lasers.

With a polite tilt of chin you greet a university fellow who passes by you, taking the opportunity to gracefully turn your body and face the other side of the hall. And, despite your common sense, you find yourself unable to stop from peeking over the rim of your glass in the direction of he-who-must-not-be-named.

And oh, yes, there he is.

You haven't seen him in months — at least four, since he broke up with you on the eve of the university graduation. And, unlike what you imagined for him all this time, the breakup didn't do him any apparent harm. He seems as good as ever.

You and Aemond had an unexpected but incredibly intense dating history. You both met through Baela many years ago. Neither of you hit it off right away — he openly ignored you, and you disdained even his shadow. It was a perfectly comfortable relationship for both of you that lasted for years, until everything changed during a single drunken night. You don’t remember exactly how it started, but one moment you were downing glass after glass of your fruity drink, glaring daggers at him from across the balcony, and the next you were kissing and making out in the dark upstairs hallway.

There was no awkward conversation the next day or either of you trying to pretend it never happened. You just made a mutual agreement to keep doing it, gradually sinking into a frighteningly perfect relationship that lasted a full year.

You burned brightly. You were both madly in love, and it was obvious to anyone. Within just a few weeks of dating, everyone on campus had come to associate you with each other, so great was your rapport. Baela wasn’t surprised when she found out, claiming it was obvious that all that blatant disdain and sharp glances meant a lot of pent-up sexual tension.

Together you were intense, a force to be reckoned with. Like fire and ice, but even greater — like all the light and darkness in the universe, somehow intertwined to create the perfect pair.

And then you fell.

It was hard to pinpoint exactly where things took a turn for the worse. But finals season was approaching, as were the pressures of careers and futures after graduation, and reality set in for both of you. Slowly you stopped going everywhere together, and your couple’s banter began to evolve into intense arguments that made everyone in the dorm cringe. Suddenly Aemond had no time for you anymore, divided between his studies and his internship at the family business. You were relegated to the background, like a toy that had been used for too long and was now of no use.

Until the day inevitably came when he just stopped showing up at your dorm. You sought him out some time later for some kind of explanation and he seemed so different then, and yet so identical to the Aemond you knew all those years ago; disinterested, overwhelmed, serious, unreachable. In that moment you knew it was over.

Then finals passed, graduation came, and your intense relationship melted away under the weight of adulthood.

And it didn’t matter anymore. You wanted to settle down, to get deeper into your newly started career, and the two of you were not supposed to contact each other anymore. And things were going well — you couldn’t go so far as to say you were completely over him, but you had accepted the fact that the relationship was over. Everything was fine.

Until tonight.

Aemond is casually leaning against the wall, one leg folded over the other, arms crossed in front of his broad chest. A petulant king with boredom and entitlement dripping from his posture.

He is the same, in every visible way.

The same pale, flawless skin and the same surgical eye patch hiding the severe wound over his left eye. The same long, icy white locks carefully arranged to look purposefully disheveled in the low ponytail he wears tonight, two long strands framing either side of his face. Well-defined eyebrows lowered over an intense violet gaze that watches you with unabashed interest through an aristocratic nose. The flushed lips, pressed expressionlessly together, belonging to the same mouth you’ve lost yourself in so many times before…oh…the memories come to you unbidden, leaving your skin warm in response.

Shaking your head discreetly, you try to focus on his attire for the evening. And at first glance, you could tell he would be more suited to a funeral than a birthday party. But that wasn’t anything new either.

Dressed entirely in black, from the dress pants to the blazer, to the soft silk shirt underneath and shoes that are surely worth more than the small apartment you bought for yourself, he looks like an elven king of the shadows or a seductive vampire from a romance novel. The haute couture pieces fit the length and curves of the muscles on his body as if its had tailored specifically for him - and you know its had.

Nothing has changed in his outward appearance or his personality, from what you can tell. Aemond still exudes power and dominance in the room as if it were some kind of natural substance seeping from his pores, choking your throat as you struggle to maintain an indifferent gaze, trying to remain unfazed even though you feel anything but.

He even has the same look in his eye, Aemond is almost always watching. His one eye is fixed on your skin, heated and electrifying. It hasn’t changed, especially, the way it sets you on fire. His scorching gaze on your skin.

Flustered and embarrassed by this, you tip the champagne glass to your lips in order to keep your nerves in check, only to realize that you’ve already drunk it all.

Cheeks flushing at having made such an embarrassing faux pas under Aemond’s annoyingly watchful eye, you lower the glass to the table next to you.

With a fake bored sigh, you try to pretend that none of this happened, prepared to go back to pretending that he doesn’t exist. Until, out of the corner of your eye, you see him push his body away from the wall and then your attention is painfully fixed on him again, his gaze locked on yours as he stoically marches in what is turning out to be exactly the direction you’re standing.

Your heart races in your chest, palms beginning to sweat at your sides as he intercepts a waiter in the middle of the room with an elegant wave of his hand, grabbing two glasses of champagne from the tray before continuing to walk towards you.

And you, deeply torn between the desire to run as far away as possible and to stay exactly where you are so as not to show any sign of weakness, end up deciding to do something in between. You don't run, but there's a distinctly uncomfortable swaying on your feet as you stand there and you pray that he attributes it to some kind of natural movement due to the classical music playing in the room and not some nervous reaction caused by, gods above, his presence.

"Hey," he says when he's close by, extending his right hand to offer you the glass of champagne, his lips slightly stretching into an almost compassionate expression. "Here."

His voice, all soft, lazy velvet, a little rough around the edges, still makes your head spin.

“Hey you,” you say, the red dust on your cheeks deepening, all too aware that you were just fantasizing about those same lips just a few minutes ago. You accept the drink without a second thought, needing it now more than ever. Your fingers brush against each other for a single awkward second, seemingly long enough to send a subtle shiver through your body. “Thank you.”

“Having fun?” he asks as you take a sip of the sparkling beverage.

With a shrug you lower the glass, sending him the most casually indifferent look you can muster at the moment, considering the frazzled state of your nerves. God, you’d somehow forgotten how tall he was; athletic and tall enough that even in heels you still had to look up to meet his gaze and respond.

Tonight was going to be a bigger ordeal than you’d thought.

“It’s a perfectly nice party.” He knows you well enough to know you’re lying, and it’s clear from the unsurprised raise of his eyebrow, an amused smile barely concealed by the rim of his glass as he sips his own champagne, his other hand elegantly hidden in the pocket of the pants. You pout a little, irritated that he thinks he can still read you like this.

“Hm, you look beautiful tonight,” he comments, so calm and sincere, looking straight into your eyes, and you forget your earlier irritation. “Blue looks really good on you.”

You glance shyly down at the light blue dress you’re wearing; the satin straps held together by a delicate bow on each shoulder, the top fitting tightly across your chest - soft, full skirt starting at your waist, falling gently down your hips and thighs, to just below your knees. On your feet are a delicate pair of high-heeled sandals, thin straps wrapped around your ankle. Your hair slides over shoulders in soft waves. And on your face the lightest of makeup. You looked passable, in your opinion. Elegant, but understated compared to the others in the room.

“I—huh, thank you. You look good too.” You mumble, cheeks warm, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “B-but what about you? I didn’t think you were the type to attend birthday parties so easily, even those of your relatives. I thought you couldn't stand that kind of thing.”

You rush to change the subject, a sympathetic smile on your lips as remember how uncomfortable he felt when he was asked to attend such events — avoiding most of them whenever possible.

Aemond shrugs, unfazed by your abrupt change of subject, but blessedly going along with it.

“I knew you’d be here.”

For the second time that night, you nearly choke on your drink.

Your eyes wide and surprised stare at him, unsure of what to make of this information thrown out so naturally.

So what if you were here? You’re done, aren’t you? Why should Aemond care where you are or what you’re doing?

“Aemond, what are you—”

“Can we talk?”

He cuts you off in a lower voice, taking a step closer, close enough for you to smell his woody, masculine scent, the smoky notes of cigarette.

"But..." You blink quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. "We're already doing that."

He breathes out in frustration, looking away subtly.

"Alone."

You look away too, noticing some attentive glances at the two of you, curious to know what the ex-lover couple was doing together again. The embarrassment grips you tighter.

"Aemond, we have nothing to talk about alone. Look, it was nice to meet you tonight, but I really should go look for Baela and..." You look back as speak, trying to locate the woman among the crowd of people, but a soft, almost imperceptible touch on the back of your hand makes you suddenly freeze, slowly turning your face to the contact. His knuckles are brushing against your skin, discreet and gentle, only drawing your attention to him again.

When you look up, lips parted and eyes uncertain, he’s staring at you with such intensity and focus that it makes your knees feel weak for a moment.

“Please.”

Unfortunately, it’s not just your knees that are weak.

Whatever he’s planning to do now is a very, very bad idea. You should refuse; any interaction with Aemond after so long apart is a slippery slope, especially after his earlier cryptic statement.

But with a stiff and mostly unconscious nod of your head, he steps away to lead you to a more private place.

You know you shouldn’t. You know.

But you do it anyway: you follow Aemond up the stairs, focusing on the silky sway of the strands that are loosely tied in the ponytail at the nape of his neck, falling down the length of his spine almost to the middle of his back. The icy white contrasts with the darkness of his blazer.

You ignore the knowing look Baela sends you when you spot her a few feet ahead - still caught up in a visibly boring conversation with her mother and that woman from the office, raising her glass to you in an encouraging and mischievous motion.

Your face burns with shame and humiliation, feeling weak for being in this situation - for having been unable to say no to him, as you should have.

"Please be direct, I don't want to linger here and give people the wrong idea." You say, awkward and nervous, as the two of you enter one of the guest rooms upstairs. Aemond closes the door with a tired sigh, and you swallow hard at the sound, adjusting your posture to appear colder than you actually feel.

"I never got over you."

His delivery is abrupt and direct, everything you had asked him to be, and yet the statement catches you off guard. It unsettles you enough to make you stagger back slightly, your lower back hitting the corner of a dresser. He continues, despite your obvious daze.

“It crossed my mind that you might come tonight, being Baela’s friend and all. But I didn’t see you at first, so I figured you had something else planned for her.” And you did, but you don’t say it, afraid that he’ll interpret the comment as an invitation and the situation will get even worse. “I was hoping to see you...the last time we spoke didn’t go well, since—”

“Since you dumped me,” you spit before realize, recovering from your daze with a speed that’s surprising even to you. Aemond shivers at the sudden, icy words. “I mean, what else is there to talk about after that?”

“Clearly there’s something I should talk about. Because I think you hate me,” he says, still calmly, but a little more frustrated - pulling his blazer down his arms to toss it on the bed in an uncharacteristically eager gesture. He pulls an expensive pack of cigarettes from his pocket along with a lighter, lighting the end to inhale slowly; everything under your watchful scrutiny. “Which you have every right to if that’s the case, but it doesn’t mean I like it.” He finishes the thought with a puff of air, the smell of nicotine and swirling smoke making you wrinkle your nose in response, your expression showing all the distaste for it. Aemond knows how much you disapprove of his little vice after all.

“Well, that’s too bad. But those are my feelings. It’s none of your business what they are or not.” You cross the arms in front of you, feeling petulant and provoked. “So don’t go around assuming I hate you or anything. That just makes you an asshole.”

He brings the cigarette held between his fingers to his mouth again, inhaling slowly as he looks at you with his nose up and narrow gaze - having clearly noticed your bratty attitude. You reinforce your defiant expression, even though feel yourself wilt considerably inside at that look.

Memories. So many memories.

In a nervous gesture, provoked by the absolute silence he maintains after that, nothing but soft drags on his cigarette and thick puffs of nicotine as he stares at you intently, you shake your hair back. The mistake is recognized immediately, but it is already too late to correct. His gaze, unwavering and dark, descends the delicate curve of your neck in a familiar movement, but quickly freezes when he notices something different there.

The mark of a particularly rude hickey left by Benjicot Blackwood - better known among students as Bloody Ben. A drunken mistake made a few nights ago. The man, also a fellow student, was not only a nerd with strange tendencies as some claimed, he was also absolutely wild in bed - which, of course, seemed like a good idea at the time. Not the next day, though.

And maybe it wasn't just the alcohol. Yes, you were drunk that night - you don't think you would have had the courage to flirt with Bloody Ben if you weren't. But it wasn’t just that, if you were being honest. There was something else there, something motivating you to make such a bold move.

Revenge, maybe. Something to rub in your ex’s face, something to hurt him. It wasn’t decent, or the adult thing to do, but hey, you didn’t say you were being coherent. And your actions couldn’t be taken seriously in the drunken state you were both in, could they? You just wanted to hurt Aemond as much as he had hurt you.

And if that was the case, so what if you let some guy with weird fetishes bite on you like a chew toy? Who cares?

Aemond, apparently.

“Who…?” He asks, lowering his cigarette slowly, his jaw clenched.

“None of your business.” You repeat your earlier argument immediately, even though your heart is fluttering in chest and cheeks burning with shame at your own actions. "It's none of your damn business who I sleep with or not, Aemond. You made it very clear four months ago that you don't care about me or our relationship. It's over."

The months may have dulled that unbearable bite of pain that burned in your throat, but you remember those last few days all too well. The tortuous stab of being slowly abandoned, of not being important enough to be worth fighting for. Why weren't you worth fighting for? What could you have done to be chosen?

And, fuck, you don't want to cry. But just being here, facing the reason for your suffering and being able, for the first time, to truly make him understand how much he hurt you, makes unwanted tears well up in your eyes. But he's not worth it. If you're not worth it, neither is he. You blink rapidly at the ceiling to ward off the urge to cry, licking your lips.

“You’re being so,” he waves his free hand at you, face still twisted in disgust at the mark on your neck, “so fucking cold about this. For a moment there I thought we were doing better.”

“Because I accepted your drink downstairs? Because I was polite enough to answer you without causing a scene in front of those people? Is that why you thought—” You let out a tearful sigh. This is not going according to plan. It’s in direct opposition to the rule of not getting involved with this man ever again in your life.

“You know what—I’m fine. Really.” You sigh, tired, soft. “I shouldn’t have come upstairs with you. We shouldn’t be doing this right now.”

“Are you too busy?” he presses, impatient and grumpy.

“I am, actually,” you say, too honest. “I better get back to Baela, like I tried to do before, I promised I wouldn’t leave her alone with all those vultures. We can continue this some other time,” you blink away and then back at him with a raw, teary glare, “in the future.”

You should leave now. Why are you still here? Why are you—

Aemond clearly wants to argue, but decides not to. He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray on the desk next to where he stands, not looking away from yours for a moment. You hold his gaze and feel nothing but aching longing and the smoldering hurt you were so sure you had managed to put behind you.

“Okay.” He murmurs with a sharp gaze, but he’s approaching you with careful steps, afraid you’ll back away.

“Okay.” You murmur back.

Except neither of you move toward the door. What you both do is Aemond stares at you and you stare back.

Alarm bells blare in the back of your mind, screaming at you to run immediately or you’ll never know peace.

Because that imposing, intense stance sounds so much like Aemond Targaryen, and that’s all well and good, except this is the Aemond you know, someone you’ve sworn never to let near you again. And he’s so close now and the room is quiet except for your anxious breathing and the distant purr of the air conditioning system — and when his thumb comes up to rub the skin just below your bottom lip, you stay there and let him pull it down.

He gives you only a second to absorb what that means before he crashes his lips to yours, end of conversation. He licks his way past your lips to swallow the agonized noises in the back of your throat. And it’s nostalgic, instinctive, a little bit needy and a lot of longing, the kind that would drive anyone crazy. And it feels good, letting go like this. Letting yourself sink into the familiarity of his mouth on yours, even if it ends in tears and ashes.

Aemond’s lips taste like cigarettes and mint, just like you dreamed. They’re also as soft as you remember, fitting perfectly against yours. It’s intoxicating, the way he kisses — with enough urgency to make anyone feel intensely wanted, but also with so much passion and care, with the softest touches that lull you into the kind of state of mind you shouldn’t be in with him.

His hand is sliding down the curve of your throat now, circling to grip there — a loose, gentle grip, just using it as leverage to pull you to him.

“Mm?” he hums — pleased with himself and almost smug in his ragged breaths. “Yeah, baby?” He’s not allowed to use that voice with you. The low, breathy voice that turns into a raspy sound. This is so fucking unfair, and you’re as angry as you are aroused right now.

“You have to go,” you gasp, lashes fluttering with every lick over your own tongue, every teasing bite to your bottom lip, “please, Aemond. We—”

“I missed you,” he whispers, returning to the wet space of your lips. The hand at your throat squeezes gently, his thumb stroking the path of a pulsing vein there, leaving tremors in its wake. “I miss you so fucking much.”

You no longer have your hands clasped together, instead they’re open at your sides, shaking, and you’re dizzy. Dizzy because something painful and tight in your chest that’s lain unacknowledged for four months has finally let go. And the knowledge that this, the two of you, might not be over after all is leaving you breathless and confused.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his ridiculous velvet voice low and sincere against your skin, “it doesn’t make up for any of the shit I’ve done, it doesn’t even come close, but I’m really sorry. I’m an asshole. Such a fucking asshole for letting you go."

When Aemond meets your eyes again, a spark of heat shoots through your belly. And while his words don't erase the pain, they do burn something in you. Whether you're fighting now or not, you crave him, and nothing about that has changed in the months you've been apart. Your mind may be full of arguments and hurt, but your body never got the memo, and it's reacting hotly to this man's presence.

You want to feel him holding you again so badly. You want to feel more of his mouth on yours, his soft hair tangled in your fingers, his warm breath on your neck. Fuck, how are you still so in love with someone who broke your heart into a million little pieces without even a decent explanation?

“Tell me you're not interested,” Aemond demands, after you've been silent for too long. You open your mouth to tell him to go away, for real this time, but the words won't come out. “Tell me you don't want me, and I’ll leave you alone.”

You take a deep breath and try again.

“I want you,” is what your traitorous mouth says, but Aemond looks so relieved by this that you grab the back of his neck and pull him in for another kiss. He shifts his body and places his other hand on your hip, pushing you hard against the dresser. You follow him and hold him by the back of the neck, his breath heated on your throat when he breaks the kiss. You feel Aemond bite and suck gently from your collarbone exposed by the party dress to your ear. He pinches the sensitive lobe and tugs lightly and you feel a shiver run through your entire body.

His hand on your neck pushes your head back and his mouth is on yours again and this kiss feels different. Aemond isn’t holding anything back now and he’s kissing you like he’s pouring all his love, apologies and desire into it. He’s kissing you like you’re the only thing he needs in the world, and you let yourself revel in the feeling of being wanted and loved. He pulls you back with him until you’re both at the edge of the king-sized bed, and you push him so that he falls lightly onto the soft mattress.

Aemond arches an eyebrow in curiosity and amusement, but parts his legs slightly so that you can slide between them, settling his back against the headboard as you straddle his lap - and even fully clothed you feel a thrill run through your body as press yourself against him, feeling how hard he already is.

Your hand slips into the soft silk of his shirt, undoing the first few buttons to caress the hard planes of his broad chest, nails gently scratching that expanse of pale skin. He rumbles a low growl and you capture his lips in another desperate, hurried kiss, your tongue thrusting into his open mouth, tangling with his.

His fingers tighten in your hair, using it to drag you closer to him, gasping in pleasure as your hips buck against his to feel that hard cock rubbing against your panties through his pants. He continues to pull on your hair, wrapping the strands around his fist over and over and tilting your head back as he kisses you back, chasing his tongue back into your mouth. There’s nothing careful about the way he takes your lip between his teeth, biting and sucking on it like it’s some kind of punishment, and it doesn’t take long for you to remember that you don’t mind a little pain — not when he’s the one inflicting it on you.

"Fuck, I love those cute little noises you make, baby," he breathes into your mouth, gripping your hair to tilt your face up and lick your jaw, "I love the way you let me do whatever I want to you - a pretty, precious little doll to play with, hm?"

You open your eyes, looking up at him through heavy, watery lashes. His violet eye is glazed with lust, his mouth drooping with heavy pants, the tops of his cheeks lightly tinged with the dusty pink of a blush, and you tug at the surgical eye patch he wears, the movement almost like muscle memory. Your lips kiss almost reverently over the rough outline of his scars and what's left of his mutilated eye as your fingers wrap around the elastic in his hair and tug to let the silky, silver strands fall freely down his back and front of his face - longingly welcoming the same earthy, organic scent of the amber shampoo he used when you were still together.

“Aemond,” you say, and now his mouth moves to your ear, nipping lightly with his teeth before licking, “Aemond,” your fingers curl deeper into his hair — not to push away, no. To bring him closer. “Aemond,” you keep chanting his name like it’s the only one you know, like you’ve forgotten other words exist.

“Fuck yes, I’m here, baby. I got you.” When he kisses you this time, so fucking good, like he wants this as much as you do — you can feel him wanting it. You can feel him wanting it. He growls and reaches up with both hands to grab your ass.

“Ah-!” you moan, pushing yourself back into his hold, the movement sending a line of heat and friction up and down your spine as your private parts brush harder against each other.

“I—Aem, touch me please,” you beg — and you really don’t need to tell him twice — Aemond reaches for the hem of your party dress, pushing it so the delicate fabric pools above your hips, massaging your ass with his other hand, loving the small noises of pleasure you try to suppress as you kiss him. He strokes the lace side of your panties for a few seconds before pushing them aside, and then he goes for your pussy like he’s been missing it, wanting it, dreaming about it for years.

“Wet,” he pants against your cheek, sliding his thumb along the slit of your pussy. “So wet for me, baby,” he says, and sucks kisses down your neck.

“Aem...ond,” you whine between gasps, high-pitched and whiny. The way you always do when you’re too turned on, like what your body is experiencing is too much for you to handle.

Two of his slender fingers press against your entrance and you gasp as he slowly plunges them in. Your head falls back as you lets out a low moan and you can’t help the way your thighs are already shaking. Of course he’s still really good at this.

He sets a lazy pace, fingers moving in and out of you as he focuses his mouth on your neck for the next few minutes. His fingers are so long and when he curves them, you go rigid.

“Ah, ah,” you moan. His fingertips rub against that spongy spot inside you and as he drags them out slowly while grinding against it, you sigh.

“Talk to me, baby. Does this feel good? Is this what you wanted?” You give another enthusiastic nod, mumbling a string of ‘yes, yes, it feels so fuckin good’, moaning deep in your throat as you grind your hips against his fingers. It’s intense, breathy, needy and beautiful. Aemond gives you another slow thrust in and out, brushing the soft pad of his thumb over your clit once and you nearly fall forward from him, your legs are so weak.

“You feel so beautiful when you take it like this, so good, baby, so good for me,” he murmurs against your neck, kissing your throat, your pulse point - his other hand massaging your scalp in a soft but possessive grip. “Makes me want to eat you." He pants, thrusting his fingers into your heat a fraction faster, flicking your poor clit just enough to drive you wild, slow in a way that feels more like torture, “I want to eat you so bad baby, lick that pussy until all I can taste is you. I fucking miss that.”

"God! Please, l-later...please, Aemond, later..." The noise that leaves you is not unlike a sob. "I need to feel you now, I need this so bad, please - it's too much, and it's not enough. I think I'm dying." You cry, so desperate, feeling too much. Just too much. All you want to feel is Aemond.

"Yeah?" He asks with a harsh sigh, arching his neck to look at you, flushed and just as breathless as you, but somehow still maintaining such a perfectly composed, mischievous appearance that it just makes you want to shake him and cause some chaos.

Your face burns with flames as he slowly and teasingly removes his fingers from your heat, lifting them both to his lips to clean them.

“A full fucking feast as always, love - thank you.” He hums huskily, eyelashes fluttering in pleasure as he sucks your juices from his fingers without taking his gaze from yours.

“S-shut up you pervert.” You mumble and he just chuckles, letting his back fall back against the headboard, giving you silent permission to proceed in whatever way you prefer. But even so; even beneath you, without his usual eye patch and with his hair messed up by your restless fingers, shirt askew and half open to expose his defined, pale skin, lips parted and moist with your arousal and narrowed gaze - he is anything but submissive.

Swallowing hard, you eventually pull away, sitting a little lower on his thighs, hand sliding down past his waist, searching for the evidence of his pleasure. Small fingers feel the expensive fabric of his dress pants, sliding over the thick tent of his cock in the material, feeling delicately before nudging the clasp.

He lifts his hips, aiding your efforts to push his pants down over his ass, freeing his cock for your eyes, and you moan at the sight. He’s just as gorgeous as you remember. His cock is long and thick, the tip a dark flushed color, slick with precum. You close your fist around him, biting your bottom lip when you can barely wrap your fingers completely around his thickness. Your eyes are half-lidded as watch your small hand work his shaft, reveling in the way the slow thrusts make him twitch slightly, his breathing coming harder.

“You're determined to make trouble, aren't you?” he pants raspily, and you do your best not to whimper as the rumble sends another wave of fire licking your pussy.

Deciding to stop teasing, not for his sake - or at least not just for his sake - but especially because you yourself can't go another minute without having him inside you again, you move forward.

Lifting your body higher on your knees, you use a free hand to pull the small gusset of your thong aside, revealing a perfectly shaved mound to his view. Aemond groans lowly as he looks at you again and you blush, your body tingling at the thought that you still please him so much. Holding your panties aside, lowering yourself so that your soaked pussy lips are cradling his shaft, you rock back and forth a few times, coating them with your arousal and his, both of you letting choked sounds of pleasure spill freely from your lips.

Your thighs tremble every time the ridge of his cockhead brushes against your hard clit and you rock against that throbbing shaft, your desire burning through your blood as heated as his cock sliding against your slick slit. He slides past your entrance again and you can feel your walls trembling, both wanting him to push inside and fighting against such a thick intrusion. Aemond bites his lip with each teasing thrust, his entire body shaking beneath you as he tries to maintain control. With each brush of his cock over your clit, you hear yourself moaning louder, your nails digging deep into his neck and shoulder, no doubt making this difficult for him.

Unable to take any more of this, you reach down to grip his cock so you can line it up with your entrance. You slowly bring the head inside, both of you panting, your eyes locking and you use your hips and the hand at his base to take him inside.

Your entire body tenses as you try to fight against the thick intrusion, your entrance stretching as you feel yourself being filled with his cock. It’s almost painful after so many months without it, even with a random one night stand with Ben, and you cling to him, breathing deeply as you force yourself to relax.

“You’re so good to me, aren’t you, baby?” Aemond murmurs against your loose lips, savoring your breathy intake of breath and mixing it with his own, cupping your hips in his wide palms. “Such a good, sweet girl, taking my cock so fucking good. Keep going baby, you can do it.”

You moan, feeling your walls quiver around his pulsing length, allowing you to feel every inch of his steel shaft inside them - the shape of the head, the veins, the slight curve it had as it slid a little deeper when, blessedly, your walls begin to relax a little. You swallow a little air before kissing him desperately as if he were your air now, your eyes watering with emotion. He greedily devours your mouth, as if he craves it too, savagely plunging his tongue into your throat as he holds himself perfectly still, waiting for you to adjust.

A few panting breaths later, you finally feel relaxed enough. You move both hands into his hair and the back of his neck, seeking support.

“Aemond,” a sigh, your voice shaking.

“I got you, beautiful,” he replies between kisses and ragged breaths. "But please, move. It's so fucking tempting to feel that pussy squeezing me after all this time."

Aemond, unlike his stoic and silent persona in any other social setting, has always been a dirty talker during sex. But his direct, filthy words still surprise you, evoking a mix of mortifying embarrassment and pure heat in your veins.

You bite your bottom lip, holding onto it as you awkwardly begin to move up and down on his cock. He doesn't seem to notice your rusty practice, groaning at the feel of you like this again, pulling your skirt up higher so he can watch your pussy swallow his cock as you rides it.

You blush, but buck your hips for emphasis, hissing as he slides in a little deeper than before. When you move up and down again, giving a single roll of your hips that has you seeing stars as he rubs your sweet spot before he slams back up into you, sheathing himself to the hilt. Cries fly from your lips as he repeats the movements, making sure you truly were ready for him. The suspense of those agonizingly slow thrusts had you moaning, your entire body shaking.

Aemond lets out a deep growl that has you clenching around him and you lean forward, your breast pressed against his chest. His lips latch onto your neck, sucking on your skin, leaving behind a deep hickey.

“F-fuck,” you moan, rolling your hips in his lap.

“That’s it, ride me babe,” he growls, using his hands to lift your ass. “Use me.”

You help him, sinking your knees into the softness of the mattress, moving your hips back and forth in his lap. The sound your bodies make together is obscene, all lewd licks and rough slaps of skin meeting skin as your ass slaps against his thighs. You do as he asks, taking what you need, feeling close to the edge already. Aemond throws his head back against the headboard, watching you through a half-lidded slit, his lips stretched into a lazy, lustful smile.

“There you go love,” he encourages, rocking his hips upward every time you move. “That’s it, fuck. Tell me whose cock you’re riding.”

“Y-you Aemond, your cock—” You answer immediately, your mind a little too foggy to understand the real meaning of his question.

“Oh baby, already all cute and dumb on my cock, hm?” He chuckles close to your mouth, nudging your nose with his to get your attention. “You know what I want to hear. Let's try again, come on. Who are you riding?”

And through the rhythmic slap of your skin together, the pressure of your orgasm building marginally in your belly, the confusion in your mind, and the feeling of having Aemond like this after so long - you understand what he wants.

The position you’re in, bobbing up and down on his lap, heat and sex surrounding you like a dome of ash and sin, keeping him deceptively submissive beneath you, taking what you needs…

You know what he wants to hear.

You flush bright red and mortified from your cheeks to your neck and close your eyes, straining once against his firm grip on your ass, swallowing again. You might actually be fuming, you realize in stunned amazement.

“M-my dragon. Riding my dragon.”

My dragon. A nickname you gave him a few weeks before the breakup, a representation of his abrasive, brash personality hidden beneath an indifferent, impenetrable exterior.

“Did you miss this?” he asks with a teasing, breathless grin, squeezing the soft cheeks of your ass between his fingers to help you undulate your pussy relentlessly on his cock. “Did you miss riding your dragon like this?”

"Aemond-" You blush deeply at his question, trying to look away from his, even as your body continues to roll against his in that ancient, natural dance.

"Answer." He presses, lifting a hand to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger and make you look at him, straight into that violet expanse.

"Y-yes."

"Yes what?" He pushes.

Face burning, you sigh.

"I missed riding my dragon like this. I missed it so fucking much, Aemond..."

He nodded, his eyelashes fluttering, brows furrowed.

"Yeah you do. Never again baby, you'll never go without riding that cock. I'll make sure of that."

Your pace quickened, despite the burning in your thighs, and he kissed your jaw, nibbling at your skin. He slapped your ass and you bucked against him, the sting making the pleasure sweeter.

“Come on, baby, you’re doing so good, I know you’re close. Just a little bit more, I can feel it, I can feel how tight you’re squeezing, fuck, this is going to kill me…” He babbles his dirty nonsense close to your ear, his control slipping as the grip on your flesh increases to the level of pain. “Use me for what you need. Cum hard on this cock.”

But what finally pushes you over the edge are sharp teeth sinking into your throat, paired with a skilled thumb that suddenly slithers over your clit in quick strokes. Your vision goes white and you barely have time to realize you’re coming as the cacophony of sensations floods you. Your ears ring as the pain in your neck makes the pleasure burn hotter, driving you higher and higher until you’re thrashing against the heavy pressure in your abdomen. You’ve grabbed onto everything you can - his shoulders, his hair, gripping and digging.

You float and fall and fly all at once and it’s perfect, moaning breathlessly with your head thrown back, feeling Aemond grip your hips with one hand, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull your body in front of him. With you like this, bent over and still shaking with your orgasm, he thrusts his hips upward with a hellfire vigor and you can’t help but hold on to him for dear life.

“Shit, you’re so..!” He presses you tight against him as he snaps his hips upward, holding you still for his cock, making sure he gets as deep as physically possible. “Fuck, baby,” he nearly growls as your back arches and you cry out, with the overstimulation, with the pleasure, your entire body tensing as he takes his own satisfaction from you. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight, so hot around me, it feels so fucking good around my cock. I'm gonna cum. Shit, I need to pull it out, I-"

"I-inside...please, cum inside me..." You whisper desperately and tearfully into his ear, panicking at the possibility of him pulling out, feeling him shiver and groan at your words. "It's safe, Aem. I want it inside me, - give it to me, please!"

"Fuck," he growls and tightens his grip on your waist, fingers digging bruises into your skin as he begins to lose his rhythm. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby, you're so...you're so fucking..!" He can't find the right words, eye closing and brow furrowing, thrusting his hips up with enough force to push you further up his body if he wasn't holding you so tightly.

He takes a few deep breaths, and you watch him fall almost in a trance, his handsome face flushed and lips parted, a hoarse, broken groan as he thrusts himself deep one last time before exploding, a guttural sound rolling through his clenched teeth as he comes to the feeling of your walls clenching around him, milking him for everything he has. Your hips buck with the force of it, snapping against his in slow strokes as you greedily ride out every drop.

You shudder above him, exhausted body tingling with the sensation of his heated seed spilling deep inside you, filling you until you feel like there’s no more room. “Aemond,” you whimper, your voice cracking with hypersensitivity as you struggle to roll your hips one last time before you can’t take it anymore, a shaky exhale blowing past your lips as you collapse onto him. “Fuuck.”

“Yeah,” Aemond exhales, his chest heaving rapidly beneath you. “Holy shit, that was…that was…fuck, what the fuck were you thinking when you asked me to cum inside you like that?” You lift your head as you feel his gaze on you, his words making you both flatter and shy at the same time. “Was that on purpose, baby?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” you sigh, chuckling softly when he snorts. “But it’s good to know I still have a trick or two in store.”

“Well, it worked like a charm, baby.” Smiling lazily, he cups your cheek and pulls you into a soft kiss, sighing as your chest hums contentedly. You slide your hands into his hair, kissing him back until you’re both out of breath. “Are you okay?” he asks when you break the kiss to catch your breath, a worried frown on his forehead.

“Yeah,” you tell him, a blush staining your cheeks as you realize you’re still firmly joined, neither of you showing any signs of wanting to break the intimate contact. He kisses your forehead, pushing the satin straps of your dress up to your shoulders again, caressing your skin gently.

“Aemond...what does that mean?”

You don’t want to ask him that, not really. All you want is to keep enjoying this moment, for as long as it lasts. But there’s a small part of you, the one you’ve silenced for all these months, that’s terrified at the mere thought of being abandoned once again. With the thought of it being a casual encounter for him, regardless of his words spoken in the heat of the moment.

“I-I don’t want to assume, but I can’t do this again if it’s a one-time thing for you...I can’t go through this again...” your nerves start to take over when he doesn’t answer right away, your gaze shifting from his in an anxious gesture.

He guides you to him once more with firm fingers, stroking your cheek with his thumb when he makes sure you won’t try to turn away.

“I want to fight for this. For us. I know I was an asshole before, I let myself get carried away by family pressures and I lost sight of what really mattered. So pathetic. I regretted it as soon as I left, but I didn’t know how to go back...how to fix the shit I did.” He’s serious when speaks, owning up to his mistakes with a degree of confidence that leaves you speechless. “If you don’t want to...if it’s too late...I understand, but please know that I love you. I’ve loved you the whole time we’ve been together, I’ve loved you while we’ve been apart, and I’ll continue to love you even if you don’t want me anymore.” He looks straight into your eyes and says, “I want to fight for you because you’re worth it. You’ve always been worth it. I’m sorry I made you believe otherwise.”

You feel unshed tears pooling on your lashes and you blink them away, but a few still escape. Aemond wipes them away with gentle fingers, and slowly leans you toward him, barely brushing his lips against yours.

“Always a crybaby.” He teases, but you can still hear the note of affection in his voice, how he’s laid himself bare for you — even if he’s trying to cover it up with sarcastic jokes.

You can’t manage much more than a broken noise as you bury your face in his neck, and Aemond doesn’t press you. He just holds you, for a long time, he just holds you -- until you almost feel the tendrils of sleep reaching for you. Nothing but the cozy feeling of being close again; the warmth of his body heat against yours, his breath in your ear, his heartbeat in yours -- even his cock still buried inside you. You and him, together again.

"I planned a party for Baela at the Red Keep Bar later..." You mumble into his chest after a long time of silence, fingers playing with the soft silk of his black shirt. "Would you like to go? I mean...with me, you know - like...well...together...?" You stumble over the words, blushing hard as you feel his chest tremble when he laughs at that.

"Of course I would, baby. But two parties in one night? What are you trying to do to me?" He breathes, half bored, half elated, taking your nervous hand in his to place a tender kiss on your knuckles.

"Still a social butterfly, I see." You huff, snuggling deeper into the crook of his neck, letting his woody, smoky scent completely relax you.

"Only the best for you, love." He murmurs contentedly, snaking his hand between your bodies to fish the lighter and pack of cigarettes out of his pants and light another one, inhaling slowly as he keeps you tightly tucked into his body with one arm, his cock twitching inside your walls to make you blush and look at him suspiciously. But he doesn't make any move on it, just keeps dragging on his stupid cigarette.

"I hate this thing, you know?" You mumble lazily and almost disappointedly (even though you're still completely sore from the previous session) when he turns his head to blow a cloud of smoke away from you, though the smell still makes you wrinkle your nose anyway.

"Yeah, I know. And I must say, I'm looking forward to all your long, passionate speeches about how this is detrimental to my life and the lives of others." He has his one eye closed as speaks, leaning his head against the headboard with a satisfied and sincere smile on his lips. "I've missed this so fucking much, princess."

He laughs louder when you slap his arm in offense.

-----

Aemond isn’t the kind of guy who pees on his girl to mark territory. Oh no, he’s above that.

But when Aemond spots Benjicot — the infamous Bloody Ben — later that night after finally getting the scoop on who gave you that hickey, he holds the guy’s curious, dissatisfied gaze as he shifts you more comfortably on his lap, your back against his broad chest.

He’s not marking his territory when brushes the hair away from your pretty, delicate neck, gently kissing a particularly obvious bite mark.

HIS MARK.

He’s not marking his territory when he grips your waist to pull your hips toward his, making you let out a shy, startled squeak, scolding him ever so slightly with your bright doe eyes.

He’s certainly not marking his territory when he ignores your cute warning and wraps his hand around your hair to pull your head back, sealing his lips with yours in a deep, sensual kiss, hidden by the darkness of the club — but not hidden enough that damned Bloody Ben doesn’t see you both.

Aemond isn’t marking his territory.

He’s just holding on to what’s always been his, and nothing and no one could ruin that. Not even Aemond himself.

To hell with Bloody Ben.

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