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cvspians · 5 months

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the great war | aemond targaryen (part two)

Haven't read part 1? click here

Summary: The night Aemond Targaryen visits Storm's End, he loses everything.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

Warnings: Show spoilers, cursing, a fun family dinner, the word bastard again, Rhaenyra getting called a misogynistic word, reader has beef with Aegon, Aemond being mean, reader being a protective older sister, angsty angst, mentions of blood, and death

Word Count: 7.8k words.

Notes: I'm so glad you guys loved part 1! To be honest, I was so nervous to publish the first part because I'm a person who is never satisfied with my writing due to my perfectionist tendencies. This is longer than part 1, I got a bit carried away and didn't want to publish a third part. This is sad, you all know what's coming. Hopefully, I did the ending justice, I'm literally already hating it. Also sorry for doing y'all like that LMAO. This hasn't been proofread so excuse any mistakes! I tagged those who asked me in the comments!

Comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! I hope you guys enjoy!

Aemond loved you, he really did, but he also hated your brothers.

He tried to keep his cool for your sake, faking smiles that hurt his cheeks and uttering kind words that left a bad taste in his mouth on the rare occasion that your family was around.

But Lucerys had taken something from him that could never be replaced.

His injury might've healed, the scars no longer red and tender, but the pain was still there. Fresh and raw, always gnawing away at his heart and sanity. He remembers the stares he received after the incident – he could still feel the pity from those around the castle, the whispers from Lords who visited on business, and the poorly masked looks of disgust from their wives and daughters.

Aemond hated it. He hated how everyone seemed to think he was a fragile and unfortunate thing just because he had lost an eye. He had the biggest dragon in all of Westeros for God's sake!

So as time passed he learned to build walls around himself for protection. He no longer hid behind his mother's skirts nor did he cower away in fear. He began to spend his time in the training yard with Ser Criston.

At first, it was hard. His coordination wasn't the same due to his lost eye but Aemond didn't give up. He trained hard, harder than his brother who preferred to spend his time with his nose buried between the thighs of whores and bottles of wine.

Soon enough Aemond was no longer the boy who got pushed around. He wore his eyepatch with pride, glaring and proving those who underestimated him wrong.

When he married you, he was worried you would not only hate him but also find him disgusting or at least be scared of him. But you proved him wrong. You told him how beautiful he was, kissed the scars around his eye, and showered him with love.

That was all it took for his walls to come crumbling down, allowing you to worm your way inside and cement your claim.

So yes, Aemond did love you but that wasn't enough to forgive your brothers for what they did to him.

You were seated next to him at the dinner table, chatting with Helaena and occasionally giggling at the poorly made jokes your brother Luke threw your way. He loved the sound of your laugh and could listen to it on repeat for hours, but at that very moment, he wanted nothing more than to bang his head against the table.

He refrained from doing so knowing you would scold him for it and his mother would glare until she became cross-eyed.

Viserys had called for a family dinner the same night after the shitshow that was the presentation. Aemond had promised that no one would be angry with you if you skipped it but you were feeling much better.

Besides, you yearned to finally have dinner with both sides of your family.

You couldn't remember the last time something like this happened.

Your grandfather had held a toast, congratulating your siblings for their betrothals before he turned to you and Aemond, a smile on his gravely ill face.

"And to my only granddaughter. I have had the pleasure of watching you turn from a little girl to a woman grown. You remind me so much of your mother," Rhaenyra sniffed at this, a smile on her face as she looked between you and her father. You had a smile on your own face, cheeks warm due to the attention you were receiving. Aemond set a hand on your thigh, giving it a small squeeze as he fought down a smile.

"It saddens my heart that Aemma isn't here to witness this. She would've loved her grandchildren" The side of your table tensed a bit at the mention of your late grandmother and you felt Otto's heated gaze on the side of your face which you ignored.

Daemon snorted at the expression Alicent was attempting to shield.

Viserys was none the wiser as he continued his speech." I hope you and Aemond live a long life full of love and children" He finished addressing you with a breathless chuckle and you softly thanked him with a bow of your head.

The king slowly reached up and took off the mask, revealing his empty eye socket and disfigured cheek.

You gulped, eyes averting from his face.

It wasn't a pleasant sight like Aemond's. The skin on the right side of your grandfather's face was rotting off, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. If you squint hard enough from your seat you would be able to see the inside of his mouth.

"Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided" He wheezed out, chest heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. "But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown... then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly"

I wish, you thought. The divide between your families ran deep, not even yours and Aemond's marriage could mend it.

No one spoke for a bit after he was finished. Until your mother stood, cup raised.

"I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood more loyally by his side than his good wife" Alicent was slightly taken aback as she stared up at your mother with an unreadable expression.

You knew of their history, your mother had told you. Best friends who fell off each other's graces after Alicent married your grandfather and became Queen, filling your mother with a feeling of betrayal.

You couldn't even attempt to imagine how that would feel.

"She has tended to him with unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude and my apology" Rhaenyra finished and sat back down. Everyone stared at the Queen expectantly, waiting for her response.

"Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess" Alicent finally said, eyes darting around the room before falling back to your mother who was now looking at her with an unreadable expression of her own. "We are both mothers and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow" The Queen continued before standing up, her chair dragging back a bit at the force.

"I raise my cup to you and to your house. You will make a fine queen"

You noticed your mother trying to hide her smile as you made a move to grab your cup just as everyone else did. You took a sip of the sweet wine and softly hummed in contentment as the warm after-effects of the alcohol kicked in.

Aemond did the same with his free hand as his other was still resting on your thigh. He gave it another squeeze and you turned your attention to him, confusion written on your features as you wondered if he had something to say to you.

"I love you," He whispered loud enough for you to hear and you couldn't help but break out in a grin. "I love you too" You answered, quickly leaning forward and planting a kiss on his cheek.

His face grew hot at the action and he quickly scanned the table to see if anyone was looking but thankfully everyone had returned to their separate conversations. His attention turned back to you but you had already turned to listen to Helaena who was happily informing you about the new bugs she had found while out in the yard earlier.

You were nodding along, demonstrating you were listening, when your gaze fell on Aegon who was standing in between Jace and Baela, whispering something that was clearly no good considering Jace's jaw clenched in response.

On instinct, you turned to look at Aemond, eyes pleading for him to do something but your twin brother was faster. Jace's fists slammed on the table, startling everyone else from their conversations.

You could see he was trying to reign in his anger. Next, you felt Aemond stand and you turned to look up at him, eyes wide as he stared at your brother with a look you didn't like.

It's as if he were challenging him, daring him to do whatever it was he was thinking.

Jacaerys was staring right back at him with the same expression but when he met your eyes – pleading – he settled on softly punching Aegon's shoulder in an attempt to appear playful before grabbing his cup and raising it in the air.

"To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, as his eyes roamed, hope we may yet be friends and allies" Jace toasted, his smile forced as he turned to look at everyone at the table, observing him quietly.

Aemond was still standing, watching him like a hawk. You tried your best to discreetly reach up and grab his hand, tugging at it so he would sit but he ignored it.

"And you Uncle," Your brother was back to staring at your husband, cup pointed in his direction this time. "You have been married to my sweet little sister," You softly groaned. "You're older by an hour!" You interrupted with a whine and Jace stuck his tongue out in retaliation.

This earned a few chuckles from your family and weak grandfather. The Greens, except Helena who grinned, didn't budge.

"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," Jace rolled his eyes playfully and you huffed, pout still on your lips. "You have been married to my twin, the person I shared a womb with and came into this world with, the person I have had the pleasure of annoying for eighteen years straight – for over a year now. I see how happy you have made her and for that, I sincerely thank you" Jace's eyes left Aemond's stoic frame before turning to you, a genuine smile on his lips this time.

Your pout was replaced with a smile of your own, heart fluttering at your brother's words. Aemond remained silent, gaze still calculating before he tilted his head in acknowledgment toward Jacaerys.

"To you and your family's good health, dear uncles" Jace finished before taking a swing from his cup. He delivered a final punch to Aegon's shoulder before sitting back down.

You could practically see the annoyance rolling off of your eldest uncle as he accepted your brother's words, "To you as well"

Aemond finally took his seat and you turned to give him a pointed look, which he tried his best to ignore, suddenly interested in the cutlery laid in front of him.

"I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena!" Helaena announced, abruptly standing up with a cup in her hand as well. All eyes were drawn to her, waiting to see where this was going. "They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad. Mostly he just ignores you..." You frowned at her words, saddened by her fate. "Except sometimes when he's drunk" She innocently added, earning a cackle from your stepfather from the other end of the table.

Aegon looked like he wanted to bury himself alive and this caused you to stifle a laugh of your own. Helaena finally sat down with a dopey smile and you cautiously reached out to hold her hand, knowing she was wary of human touch. She accepted it much to your relief.

"That was great, Hel" You praised and she beamed in response. You heard Aemond shift next to you but you ignored him, opting to keep focusing on your sister-in-law who began taking sips from her cup.

"Let us have some music!" Viserys weakly announced and soon the room was filled with a soft tune.

You hadn't even realized Jacaerys was heading your way until you felt his presence next to you. You looked up at him and noticed his outstretched hand which was meant for Helaena. He gave you an apologetic smile but you shrugged, encouraging Helaena to accept. She rarely had fun and you wanted her to experience it, even if it was just for a few minutes.

She was surprised but nonetheless accepted, giving you one last smile before standing and following your brother to the dance floor.

Aegon stared at the two before turning to look at Aemond who was already looking back at him, the same look he had earlier on his face. You noticed this and scoffed, now annoyed with your husband’s behavior.

You understood Aemond’s feelings. They were valid and you never made him feel like he was being dramatic about it. You loved your brothers and would die for them, but you knew their actions all those years ago had terrible consequences – consequences that Aemond had to live with for the rest of his life. He was the one who had to wake up and see it on his face every time he looked at himself in the mirror.

But in that moment you just wanted Aemond to forgive, at least for the evening – for you.

You turned to look at your brother and aunt as they jumped around, falling back into their childish antics as they danced to the music. The sight warmed your heart and a part of you itched to join them. Your grandfather had been escorted back to his room during their dance, the pain and exhaustion finally catching up to him.

You were so focused that you hadn’t seen the roasted pig being sat in front of your husband nor had you seen the smirk your little brother Lucerys had thrown his way, finally snapping the little restrain Aemond had.

You jumped as he slammed his fists on the table and once again the conversations around the table ceased. The entire room stilled as they watched Aemond with wary eyes. You were looking at him with concern, not quite understanding what set him off.

“Final tribute,” He announced, cup in the air. His eyes were bored into Lucerys who was staring back blankly. “To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke, and Joffrey” He eyed the first two, the third not being present. He hadn’t addressed you but you began to grow uncomfortable in your seat. “Each of them handsome, wise…” Aemond trailed off as he tried to fight off the smirk threatening to grow on his lips. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for what was coming next.

“Strong”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Your eyes snapped open as goosebumps broke out on your arms. Your heart rate had picked up as anger and irritation clouded your senses.

“Aemond,” Alicent warned.

You were clutching the material of your dress with a tight grip, willing yourself to calm down. Your husband ignored his mother’s warning and continued.

“Come! Let us drain our cups to these three…” He was savoring the words on his tongue. Enjoying the looks of anger that both of your brothers were throwing at him. He had been so caught up in his chase of revenge that he didn’t notice the state he was in. “Strong boys”

It was your turn to abruptly stand, cheeks on fire. The sound of your chair tilting backward and hitting the floor filled the room and all eyes landed on you. You were shaking, frustrated tears clouded your vision and a scowl decorated your lips. Aemond was taken aback, not quite seeing you like this. You never got angry.

You were looking at him with an expression that filled him with nothing but dread.

“I dare you to say that again” Jacaerys called out, gaining Aemond’s attention again. He hesitated for a second, debating whether he should stop for your sake but he was far too deep now.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment” He feigned confusion as he stepped away from his seat. “Do you not think yourself Strong?” Aemond asked as Jacaerys stalked toward him, fists clenched at his sides. Lucerys slammed his palms on the table and stood up, running to his older brother’s defense.

The sound of fist meeting skin filled your ears and you watched as Aemond’s head snapped to the side at the impact of your brother’s punch. You then caught sight of Aegon grabbing Lucerys and slamming his head on the table.

Red filled your vision at the sight of Aegon manhandling your baby brother and before you could even register what you were doing, you had a fistful of his silver hair between your fingers, pulling back with all the strength you had. Aegon’s shouts of pain filled your ears but you didn’t let up until he had released Lucerys and you kept pulling backward.

You didn’t care if it was unlady like or disrespectful. Your protective instincts had kicked in the moment he laid hands on your Lucerys.

The adults were up on their feet, shouting at you all to stop. Guards even intervened, holding your twin back as he made a move to reach Aemond again.

You hadn’t even realized you were screaming until both of your sisters had pried you off of your uncle. You were red to the face, thrashing around your sisters’ arms as you attempted to reach Aegon again, who was now cursing and rubbing at the sore spots on his scalp.

You stopped fighting against the hands holding you back as the adrenaline coursing through your bloodstream began to go down. You were breathing heavily, eyes still wild with anger. You heard your mother order your siblings to return to their chambers but you were now staring at Aemond who was staring right back.

A few beats of silence passed as everyone watched the interaction between you two, trying to figure out if they needed to step in, but in the end, you only frowned before storming out of the room.

You hadn't stepped foot in your shared chambers that night.

You were angry at Aemond and his childish behavior and refused to sleep in the same bed until you cooled off. You didn’t want to say something you would regret in the heat of the moment.

So, you had gotten Laenor from the nursery and made your way to the other side of the castle where your family was currently residing. You found refuge with Baela and Rhaena, who welcomed you with open arms. Rhaena had taken the baby, claiming she hadn’t had her aunt-nephew-bonding moment yet, and you let her with a tired sigh.

Baela gave you a sympathetic look and embraced you before pulling you toward her bed. You noticed the half-full trunks a few feet from their beds and knew it meant they would be leaving tomorrow. You were sad, blaming tonight’s events for their rushed departure. You knew your mother would want to leave as soon as possible and you couldn’t blame her.

At that moment you wanted to go with them, escape the bleak walls of the castle, and return to Dragonstone. But you knew you couldn’t.

Instead, you watched as Rhaena ordered a servant to bring a crib to the room and you accepted the nightgown Baela was presenting to you.

Aemond knew he had messed up.

The look you had given him told him everything. You had never looked at him that way before and it pained him to know that he was the reason for it.

You had stormed out without a single word.

Just a frown on your soft plump lips.

He had stood there after you left, finally realizing what he had done when he caught his uncle, your stepfather, looking at him like he was his next prey.

He quickly averted his gaze and walked out as well, already planning his apology inside his head.

When he reached your shared chambers, he realized none of the guards were on watch which confused him. He quickly braced himself for what was to come but as he stepped in, he was met with silence.

Everything was exactly the same way you both left it before heading to dinner earlier.

Next, he walked toward the nursery, hoping to find you there with your son. But when he arrived he only found the nannies with his niece and nephew.

They had stood and bowed when they spotted him. “Princess [Y/N] came not long ago and took Prince Laenor with her” The oldest of the two nannies informed him nervously, eyes trained on his shoes.

He nodded and left without a word, making his way back to your shared chambers.

He knew right then and there that you were angry at him.

The only reason why he didn’t assume the worst and tore the castle upside down was because he knew you. He knew you wouldn't leave him. Sure, you were angry now but you would forgive him because you loved him and he loved you. He knew you were with your siblings right now, attempting to cool off and get your mind off of things.

That night, Aemond didn’t sleep.

The bed felt empty despite him lying on it, the sheets icy cold. Not even the roaring fire going on at the fireplace was enough to bring him warmth. He had gotten used to sleeping with you, the body heat you radiated was comforting to him. It was too quiet as well. The small breaths you took as you peacefully slept and Laenor's snuffles were what usually lulled him to sleep.

He lay there for hours, staring up at the ceiling as the night’s events replayed in his mind. It felt like an eternity before the sun began making its way back up in the sky and he found the strength to get up.

He needed to find you.

That morning, before the sun even fully rose, you had bid your family goodbye with tears. Your mother had cried as well, holding you tight and kissing your temple, promising she would visit as soon as your sister was born. Your brothers pulled you into a hug themselves, apologizing for last night but you waved it off, telling them that they had done nothing wrong.

Your stepfather, who was holding a swaddled Laenor, leaned down to press a kiss on the top of your head before handing you your baby back. Baela and Laena had promised to write as soon as they arrived. You bid your younger brothers goodbye with kisses to their cheeks and Joffrey had tried pushing you away claiming he was a big boy now. You had laughed and ruffled his hair, earning points from him.

You watched as they piled into the awaiting carriage, waving goodbye one last time until it set off and disappeared into the distance.

You sighed as the silence settled, the guards on watch standing quietly a few feet from you.

You had to face Aemond now, no longer having a safe place to escape to. Laenor wiggled and cooed in your arms and you looked down at him with a small smile.

“Let’s go find your father, byka zaldrīzes” (little dragon)

You found him just as he was making his way out of your shared chambers without Laenor. You had dropped him off at the nursery with your trusted nanny, not wanting him around on whatever was going to transpire between you and your husband. Aemond’s hair was messy and unkempt, the dark bags under his eyes told you he hadn’t slept.

He froze once he saw you, eye widening since he hadn’t expected to find you that fast. You ignored him as you passed him, walking into the room without a word. He wordlessly followed after you like a puppy trailing after his owner.

Your back was facing him as he entered and you busied yourself with finally removing the jewelry you hadn’t bothered taking off last night.

A tense silence permeated the room as you both waited for the other to speak first. You refused to break it, your stubbornness kicking in.

“I’m sorry,” You almost didn’t hear it since he had whispered it but you did.

He sounded like a wounded child, a contrast to the bold and confident man you grew to love.

He waited after he said it, watching you as you continued to remove your jewelry quietly. He took a cautious step forward but immediately stopped when he saw you freeze.

His heart ached at the sight.

“I’m sorry issa jorrāelagon, I shouldn’t have instigated a fight with your brothers. B-but I was just so angry” He began to explain, tone filled with desperation. Begging you to look at him.

Aemond Targaryen never begged but for you, he would carve his heart from his chest if you asked.

“You didn’t see the way Lucerys smirked when the pig was placed in front of me, mocking me” He explained, a dark look cast over his expression as he thought back to the way your younger brother had smirked at him.

You took a breath and finally turned to look at him, eyes glossed over.

“You called me a bastard, Aemond,” You sounded defeated.

He hadn’t said the word exactly but he had hinted at it by calling your brothers Strong. Aemond’s expression fell at your words and he finally walked toward you, grabbing your hands in his.

“N-no” He stuttered out, head shaking frantically.

“Yes,” You responded and he gripped your hands tighter.

“No!” He practically shouted, startling you at the sudden volume. His gaze softened as he caught it and he took a deep breath, willing to calm his erratic heart down. “My speech wasn’t meant for you” Aemond explained, eye searching yours for understanding.

You blinked the tears away and ripped your hands from his. “No, but you insinuated it!” You moved away as he attempted to reach you again. “I’m Jacaerys’ twin sister for God’s sake! Look at me!” You gripped a fistful of your long brown locks and held it up, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as the dam broke.

Aemond felt helpless as he watched you try to hold back your cries. This had been eating at you all night after dinner and his heart broke at the realization he was the reason for it.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized, voice thick with emotion. He felt like crying himself as he made his way to you and wrapped his arms around you. You tried to push him away but he only held on tighter, still whispering apologies into your hair as you finally let your cries out.

After a few more attempts to push him again and his grip not relenting, you gave up and into his hold. You both remained like that for what seemed hours, you crying and Aemond apologizing.

You forgave him in the end, the love you had for him was too great.

You didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. You noticed the subtle shift inside the castle’s mood but didn’t dwell much on it – used to it by now. You had stirred awake to a quick kiss being pressed on your cheek and opened your bleary eyes to see Aemond walking out of the room.

Your trusted maid, Ella, had entered a few minutes after with a warm smile, asking if you wanted to break fast in your room. You nodded and stood up, making your way to the crib where a still-sleeping Laenor lay.

You let him be, knowing he needed his rest. Ella came back soon and served you your breakfast which you ate slowly before asking her to bring a bath.

An hour later and still no sign of Aemond, you assumed he had gone to train. You finished clipping the last earring into your ear and made a move to open your door, hoping to ask one of the guards to call one of the nannies.

But the door didn't budge. You pulled harder in confusion before you realized it had been locked from the outside. Panic settled into your stomach and you began to pound on the door, shouting for anyone who could hear you. No one came though, not even Ella.

Laenor had begun to cry now, startled by the ruckus you had just caused. You felt bad but rushed toward the window, pulling it open and looking down in hopes of spotting anyone and calling for help.

You saw the crowd of Lords and their wives being rushed through the halls and even more panic filled you.

You picked a still crying Laenor up and sat on the edge of your bed, rocking him back and forth to try and calm him. Your mind began to race as you tried to figure out what was possibly happening. You thought of your ill grandfather and your heart dropped.

Something was happening and it wasn’t good.

You didn’t see Aemond that day. In fact, you hadn’t seen anyone at all.

You had heard Ella’s voice from the other side of the door twice, arguing with the morning and night guards guarding your chambers that she was your trusted maid and needed to serve you.

They all ignored and sent her away both times, only opening the door to settle the tray full of your lunch and dinner on the ground.

You didn’t bother fighting your way out. You had Laenor to think about, who you had rocked back to sleep after you breastfed him.

You paced around the room for hours and looked out the window various times to try and catch a glimpse of whatever was going on, but nothing told you of the specifics occurring.

You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until Aemond woke you up the next day, a grave expression on his face.

You practically jumped out of your skin as he touched your cheek, slumber no longer in you.

“What’s going on?” You cut straight to the point, not in the mood for lies. Aemond sighed and pulled the bottom of his lips between his teeth. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Aemond” You practically hissed, catching him off-guard.

You were tired. You had been locked inside of that room for an entire day. Being treated like a prisoner and not like the princess you were.

“My father is dead,” He finally revealed and your breath hitched. You had assumed so but hearing the words out loud just made it more real. “He wished for Aegon to ascend him” He added and you froze.

No.

“No,” You blurted out, eyes wide.

“No!” You denied, pushing him away when he tried to reach you. “My Mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, is the true heir of the iron throne. My grandfather willed it so!” You shouted, momentarily forgetting Laenor was still sleeping a few feet away.

Thankfully he didn’t wake.

Aemond scoffed at your words. “It was my father’s last wish before he died, my mother said so”

You laughed, dry and humorless. “She’s a liar! Don’t you see that?” You wanted to rip your hair out and scream at him until he woke up from whatever spell his mother had him under. You knew Alicent didn’t like your mother but you never expected her to go this far. No doubt, Otto was behind this as well.

Your words didn’t sit right with Aemond whose expression had turned dark. “Don’t you dare call my mother a liar! My father simply realized on his deathbed that Aegon was more fit to rule than that whore of my half-sister!”

You recoiled at his words, feeling like he had just slapped you.

“Get out!” You screamed, not caring if you woke the entire castle. Aemond finally realized what he had said and froze. You knew he was going to apologize but you didn’t want to hear it. “Get out, Aemond! I don’t want to see your face!”

Laenor had stirred awake this time, sniffing and small lips trembling as he tried to hold his cries back.

Realizing there was no coming back from this, Aemond did as you asked. He stood by the door before he left, his eye boring into your angry ones.

“Aegon is being crowned later on today. My mother and grandfather insisted you would be there to show unity,” You scoffed at this, cursing at him. He ignored it as he continued. “I’ll tell them you aren’t feeling well. But heed my advice, Wife, you will be made to choose where your loyalties lie. I hope you’re smart enough to choose the right side”

It was a warning.

With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

You screamed in frustration, throwing the nearest thing near you — a pillow — toward the door.

You needed to escape.

Salvation came an hour later in the form of your grandmother, Rhaenys, who you had no idea was still in the castle.

She had rushed into your room decked in a cloak, followed by Ser Erryk, face with terribly concealed panic.

“We have to go child,” She urged. You were holding Laenor, who was now calm and babbling up at you. You immediately reached her side and handed her your son. She gave you a confused look which you returned with a weak smile.

“Take him, grandma,” You assured, lip trembling. “I can’t go just yet. I know you will keep him safe until he reaches my mother” You were trying to hold back your tears, eyes never leaving your sweet boy.

Rhaenys shook her head, not quite understanding why you couldn’t go with her. “No, I cannot leave you. Rhaenyra will never forgive me”

You took a deep breath and wiped your wet eyes before cooling your expression. “Tell mother I will reunite with her soon. I still have something I must do”

Rhaenys wanted to argue but Ser Erryk interrupted with a regretful look, informing them that they needed to leave. You nodded to your grandmother, letting her know that it was okay. Finally, she relented and leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead.

She wasn’t the most affectionate person in your youth, you knew she had a hard time accepting you and your brothers as hers unlike her son. But you also knew she cared for you in her own way.

You watched as she finally slipped away, your baby safely tucked in her arms under her cloak.

“I’ll see you soon,” You faintly whispered as the door to your chambers finally closed.

The next few days were a blur. You had heard the whispers from the servants who were allowed to tend to you that Princess Rhaenys and her dragon, the Red Queen, had crashed Aegon’s ceremony toward the end. You had smiled, knowing Laenor was finally safe and out of reach from Aemond’s psychotic family.

No one had asked you where the babe went, the servants that tended to you assumed he was in the nursery and the nannies in the nursery assumed he was with you.

You knew you should’ve left with your grandmother when you had the chance, but you wanted to see Aemond one last time. Ask him to reconsider. A part of you knew you were being foolish. Your husband was loyal to his family, especially his mother. But the other part of you held hope that he would finally wake up and choose you.

Aemond didn’t show up after your last encounter so you had begun to plan your escape. You remembered the stories your mother told you, of the secret passageways hidden inside the royal rooms. You hoped your chambers had them.

Before you could even begin to check, Ella had rushed in, cheeks red and stained with tears. You didn’t know how she got through the guards, she hadn’t been allowed to serve you in what you think was fear from the Greens.

She was your most trusted maid, appointed to you by your mother. She was telling you something in a panic but you couldn’t understand her, the words all jumbled together.

“Ella! Breathe” You grabbed her by the shoulders and watched as she stopped and hiccuped. She took a breath before bursting into more tears.

“Prince Lucerys has been killed,”

Your heart stopped.

“Prince Aemond was the one who killed him”

Your whole world crumbled.

You had never cried as much as you were doing right now.

You were on the ground, your body too weak to stand. Your wails and screams of sorrow filled the entire floor even with the door closed. Ella had been standing a few feet away from you, trying to keep her own cries down.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t think.

Lucerys. Lucerys. Lucerys.

Oh, my sweet baby brother Luke.

Your heart physically hurt and you began pounding on your chest, hoping the feeling would go away. Ella was calling your name, telling you to stop but you couldn’t hear her as your cries got louder and louder.

Aemond had killed Lucerys.

Your husband had murdered your brother.

Aemond was now a kinslayer.

A part of you died that night. You loved your brothers. You didn’t always agree with the things they did but they were still your brothers. Your blood.

You needed to leave.

You needed to get out.

Out. Out. Out.

You abruptly stopped your cries, standing wobbly to your feet. Ella jumped in surprise at your sudden change in mood. She watched as you began to frantically pull curtains away, pushing at walls and bookcases. She called your name but you ignored her until you finally found what you were looking for.

It was on the wall on the farther side of the room, near the closet. A quiet click filled your ears and you pushed hard before the door gave way and a dark cold hallway filled your line of sight. Ella gasped and you finally turned to look at her.

“We have to go,” You choked out before entering it. You were barefoot but you didn’t care. You needed to get away before anyone came to check on you – before Aemond came.

You knew your loud cries alerted someone and soon enough the Queen or Otto would come knocking.

Ella nodded and quickly grabbed a pair of your shoes before following after you.

You weren’t sure where you were heading but you followed the stairs, Ella behind you, before you finally reached the outside of the castle.

There, you stood for a few seconds contemplating what to do next as she tried to coax you to put your shoes on.

Your face was red and swollen. The urge to cry and scream until your voice gave out was still there but you needed to get out of King's Landing first.

“Your dragon!” Your maid suggested and a lightbulb went off in your head.

Nyx.

You both then rushed off in the direction of the dragon pit, trying your best to not bump into the few civilians walking about. The entrance of the pit wasn’t heavily guarded and you mentally thanked the gods before you rushed inside.

The guards that were around immediately spotted you and made a move to stop you but you sidestepped them, Ella jumping in to hold them back. “Go! I’ll hold them off!” She had shouted behind you and your heart clenched at the thought of leaving her. But you knew you couldn’t help her without your dragon so you ran as fast as you could down the slope and into the cave where your boy was in.

You had immediately spotted him when you stepped inside. He was a gorgeous black dragon, hence the name you had given him. He was about Vermax’s size, having hatched at the same time Jace’s dragon did. Nyx had been sleeping but woke up in your presence. Chirps of happiness escaped him as he stood, stalking toward you with his wide yellow eyes on your form. You teared up, having missed him.

You rarely rode him after giving birth to Laenor and considering you had been locked up for the last few days, you hadn’t had the chance to see him.

You reached up to caress his snout and he sniffed you, chest rumbling with a growl once he smelled the sadness on you. He was becoming angry and protective over his rider and you quickly shushed him.

“We have to go, boy, there’s no time” You spoke to him in High Valyrian, reaching to remove the chains from him. He understood and lowered himself so you could climb on the saddle on his back.

Soon he was walking out of the cave, your fingers gripping the handles tightly.

The sight that met you when you finally emerged drained all the blood from your face.

Ella was sprawled on the ground unconscious. You wanted nothing more than to climb down and pull her up but your saddle only sat one person. The guards were staring right at you, weapons in the air though they were scared as Nyx growled at them in warning.

You could hear Otto’s and Alicent’s distant shouts coming from nearby, barking out orders you couldn’t quite make out.

And then you heard a third.

Aemond.

Your heart clenched at the sound of his voice and the tears resurfaced once again.

He killed Lucerys.

With one last look to your maid, you prayed she wasn’t dead and would get out of this alive.

You signaled for Nyx to begin moving and he roared at the guards in front of you. They all cowered back just as Aemond, followed by Otto and Alicent, had stepped into the pit.

Your red-rimmed eyes met his for a second before you shouted, “Sōvēs Nyx!” (fly nyx)

You shivered as the cold air nipped at your exposed skin. You weren’t properly dressed for a ride, still in your nightgown.

Nyx was flying in the direction of Dragonstone and soon enough you would be home. You would be reunited with your baby and while you were being hugged by your mother, Lucerys would jump out and yell surprise! You would find out this was all one big cruel joke that everyone but you were in.

But you knew that was just your denial talking.

Suddenly, you heard a roar and you straightened up, eyes scanning your surroundings. Nyx was alert, his beady yellow eyes turned to slits.

You knew who it was before you saw him.

“[Y/N]!” Aemond shouted behind you. Vhagar’s huge frame and shark teeth sent a shiver of fear down your spine. You commanded Nyx to fly faster and soon you were both in a chase. He kept shouting your name, pleading for you to stop but you didn’t listen.

You didn’t want to listen to him. He couldn’t apologize his way out of this one. He had killed your little brother, murdered him in cold blood.

You didn’t know how he did it and you didn’t want to know.

You feared if you knew you would turn around and end his life yourself.

Vhagar was gaining speed and soon enough she was almost next to you and your dragon.

“[Y/N]! Please! Listen to me!” Aemond shouted, hair flying back. You clenched your teeth as anger, grief, and sadness surged through you. “ÑUHO GLAESO HŪRUS, PLEASE LOOK AT ME!” (moon of my life)

Your head snapped in his direction, eyes blazing. “Don’t call me that! You lost the privilege the moment you murdered my brother!” You shouted at him. Nyx let out another roar as he felt the pain you were currently in through the bond.

“It was an accident!” He defended himself and your anger flared. You wanted to jump off Nyx and strangle him. Hit him until blood flooded his mouth and he wasn’t able to speak.

An accident?

He had killed your brother and was acting like he had simply tripped him.

You knew he hated them but you didn’t think it would reach the point of actual murder.

“I hate you! I wish I had never married you at all!” You shouted at him, tears cascading down your face.

I wish you were dead, you thought to yourself and immediately regretted it.

You didn’t actually mean it but at that moment you didn’t care. You wanted him to hurt the same way you were at that moment.

You didn’t realize Nyx had turned, jaws open and ready to attack until it was too late. In the heat of the moment, overwhelmed with your anger and thirst for revenge, your loyal dragon had decided to enact it for you.

Vhagar screeched at Nyx’s approach and you pulled at the reins, hoping to force your dragon away from the old and much bigger dragon. “NO!” You shouted, fear and panic in your voice.

Aemond was shouting at Vhagar, commanding her to stand down, but the war dragon wasn’t listening. His heart was beating out of his chest, a wave of deja vu hitting him as he watched as Vhagar’s teeth clamped on the side of Nyx’s neck.

“Vhagar, stand down!” Aemond screamed again and this time the old dragon listened. She let go but the damage was done. Nyx was losing too much blood, the smell of iron filled your nose, and blood sprayed from the wound, drenching you in the process.

Nyx was getting weaker as more and more blood poured from the open wound and you knew he wasn’t going to make it.

Aemond watched in horror as your dragon began to fall, with you still on the saddle. You were staring up at him, your own eyes wide.

You knew this was it.

This was the end.

This was how you would die.

You were falling, fast, and there was nothing you could do.

Even if you jumped off now, you would still be falling into the Stranger’s arms. The impact from the sea would carry you to it.

You thought of your mother. Your poor mother who already lost a son, who would now lose a daughter.

You thought of Jacaerys, who on top of losing a brother, would lose his other half.

You thought of Laenor, who would grow up without a mother, only stories of you to comfort him.

You thought of your other siblings, who would have to weep and mourn another of their kin.

“[Y/N]!” Aemond screamed, commanding Vhagar to swoop down and follow. He wanted to reach you, to save you. The older dragon let out a deep roar as she sped up and Aemond reached his hand out for you to grasp.

“Hold my hand!” He shouted, hoping you would untie your restraints and come back to safety with him.

But it was too late.

I love you, you mouthed up at him and his face contorted. A choked sound escaped his lips, a mixture of a shout and a sob, as he watched the water getting closer and closer.

The smell of sea salt invaded your senses and you knew it was coming.

You closed your eyes and welcomed death with open arms.

I’m coming Lucerys.

tags、@heavenly1927 @marihoneywk @foggypeacestarlight

#aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #house of the dragon #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon imagine #prince aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #cvspians

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letsgetrowdy43 · 3 months

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Slipping on love—

Request: Hey. I loved the latest broken bones imagine with Jack. Could it be possible to do one with Quinn? 🥹

“Take my hand, it's icy,” Quinn extended his hand out to her as they exited the foyer of their apartment complex. Her brows furrowed as she brushed him off, "I'm a big girl Q, I can manage on my own," she smiled and pressed a kiss to his shoulder as they ventured out onto the streets of downtown Vancouver in search of a new restaurant for date night.

The winter season was her favourite time of the year, she loved the atmosphere of winter in Canada, the holidays, and the attire that came with the cold. The only downside was the ice.

Her cute dress pants and blouse matched Quinn's date night attire as they searched for some dinner. She smiled brightly as she looked to her fiancé who raised his brows at her before taking her by that hand, not letting her stubbornness get her hurt.

Her cheeks were nipped pink from the chill in the air, as she talked his ear off about this coordinator she had been talking to about a fund the wives of players on the team were trying to start ahead of the boy's cup run. "I think we are gonna do a banquet, it's last minute, but it's for a good cause and-" she squealed as she began to slip but was saved as Quinn's free hand wrapped around her torso and pulled her to her feet. Quinn laughed at the embarrassed look that filled her expression as she let out the breath she had been holding, "now aren't you glad you were holding my hand," he chuckled as she rolled her eyes and let go of his hand in protest to his picking.

"You're so mean to me," she pouted, as she brushed herself off before continuing on their walk. Quinn let out a laugh as she began to walk much faster than him, he tried to catch up to her, apologies spilling from his lips before he slipped in return. She turned around and looked at him, laughter bubbling in her chest as he sat on the sidewalk defeated, "Maybe you should be holding my hand Mr." she looked at him with raised brows as she backtracked to where he sat laughing at his misfortune.

But as she turned around her feet stumbled, her shoes having no grip, and she fell right onto her side. The shriek that left her lips as she hit the icy pavement was enough to stop Quinn's laughter and have him scrambling to get up onto his feet and beside her. "You okay Dove," he looked at her as she winced in pain. "I think I sprained it or something," she mumbled. "what hurts," he said sitting her up, his hands reassuringly running over her thigh as he watched her blink away the tears that were starting up. "My ankle," she hissed as she felt him press a kiss to her temple, worry filling his eyes as he scooped her up off of the ground and into his arms to take her into the closet store or restaurant so she could be out of the cold before he called someone to go and get them.

A tiny artisan shop was the closet business open around them, the older woman behind the counter welcoming them in with warm smiles, offering to find a chair for the girl who profusely apologized for coming in so abruptly. "Thank you so much," Y/n said as Quinn helped her into the chair and then excused himself to call Petey in hopes of him being free to drive them to the Emergency room. The woman smiled as they watched a worried Quinn just outside the window, "is he always such a worrier?" she asked with raised brows as Y/n laughed. "I'm not quite sure, his mom says he's always a little extra when it comes to me," she joked, recalling the time Ellen had pulled her aside to tell her, the time she got sunstroke when they first got together almost four years prior and he stilled worried himself sick whenever something happened to her.

"Oh so he's in love with you?" she said with a grin trying to end his call with Elias quickly. "I'd hope so," she flashed her engagement ring to the lady, a small ruby on a gold band, a Hughes family heirloom that he gave her in the promise of becoming her husnband.

Quinn entered the store just seconds later, his face a little more calm as he found his rightful place at her side, "Elias will be here as soon as he can," his hand grabbed hers reassuringly, as a way to put his nerves his rest, "you okay?" "you're so in love with me," she grinned as his eyes flitted up the the store owner who was pretending not to eavesdrop on them. "I am," he confirmed, "is that a bad thing?" "No, just like seeing you all worked up about me," she mumbled as she motioned for him to move closer to her face before she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before turning to the lady and sending her a wave before the older women sent a laugh and a thumbs up back.

#rotalks: Hughes brothers night!!#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine

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danandfuckingjonlmao · 4 months

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we should make a phannie clowning iceberg guys. i’m not talking about a drama iceberg or an overall dnp iceberg, im talking stuff that’s funny in hindsight and that highlights our collective dumbassery:

bottom!dan, secret wives, plushies holding hands, marriage hill 2018, 2015 japhan phedding, tylybb, threesome propositions, “i saw dan howell holding hands with someone who wasn’t phil in x location”, fditl 2023, dan and jon (my beloved), coordinating [boyfriends] are quaking, you guys always hearing “baby” when one of them says “maybe”, expecting pinof 11 at least a tiny bit every year, etc. please comment any ideas!!

#dnp #dan and phil #yeet my deet #phan #dan howell #daniel howell #amazingphil #phil lester #danisnotonfire #danandphilgames #gamingmas #phandom #dan and fucking jon #yeet my deenp #phstudy

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catboy-scott-agenda · 11 months

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some nature wives wedding hcs (courtesy of the nature wives discord)

sausage started planning the wedding the day he learned shelby liked katherine. he and tortoise coordinated the actual wedding and argued over the colour scheme (sausage wanted green and pink, tortoise wanted blue and purple). they finally agreed on lavender and sage green.

fwhip made their rings, and shelby enchanted them so that the wearers can communicate through them.

katherine made her own wedding dress. she also designed shelby’s outfit (a suit embroidered with flowers), but she needed help adjusting it since katherine didn’t want to actually see her in it. luckily, scott knows a thing or two about sewing.

gem is katherine’s maid of honour (she actually woke up for the occasion), tortoise is shelby’s best man

pix officiates the wedding.

lizzie is the ring bearer. fwhip makes a joke like “ring bearer? i thought she was a cat!” she refuses to speak to him for the rest of the wedding.

hermes is the flower girl.

during the “speak now or forever hold your peace” bit, joey jokingly starts to stand up to object. sausage pulls him down. only shelby laughs.

for their first dance, oli performs a ballad he wrote for them. it’s twenty minutes long. he had to be dragged off the stage so he wouldn’t start another number.

big thanks to @foggy-rain, @distraughtfulsul, @phai-the-lesbiab, and @dragonsfortune for helping come up with these!

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compacflt · 7 months

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Hello, me again back with another question about the US Navy that I can't find an answer to online so I'm turning to the only source I can think of that may help. And yet again I know you say your knowledge of the US military isn't as deep as it seems but it's better than mine considering I'm not from the US, I just wanted to know how officers get off aircraft carriers? It seems like a very basic question but I'm just wondering about if in Top Gun Maverick the carrier they were on was in port and they took it to wherever the Dagger mission takes place, or they got taken to the ship if it was already at sea? If so, how would they get there? If there was an emergency, say a family member was dying, they were in the middle of the ocean and got emergency leave approved, how would they get to land? Would the ship have to port at the nearest US Naval Base? Or would you have to land on the carrier somehow? This has been on my mind for a while so any help would be greatly appreciated, your blog really adds a realistic layer to Top Gun that is refreshing

navy logistics is some of the most interesting stuff in the world. especially World War II navy logistics (the infamous ice cream barge!!!). But even today how equipment & rations & personnel (and MAIL!!!) make it on/off boats is SO fascinating & takes ungodly amounts of coordination. take a look at this video posted by the uss gerald ford (CVN 78) a couple days ago.

those are sh-60s (Sea hawks—navy black hawk variant) dropping palletized goods from a cargo ship onto the flight deck of the carrier. Including sailors’ mail, overseas goods, food etc. just awesome stuff.

in terms of officers getting on/off ships, yeah you could do it a few ways. Number one would be when the boat makes a port call. Fun fact, It used to be a huge time-honored tradition for crews to make “cruise jackets” with the names of every place your ship/carrier had stopped. not too sure if it’s still done but it was a big thing after wwii. both mav and ice would probably have them.

port calls would be when crewmen and officers especially could leave the boat & party it up on dry land. so you get the stereotype of navy officers cheating on their wives with foreign women in “foreign ports of call.”

number two, if it’s a high ranking officer like the carrier strike/battle group commander (typically a RDML) who needs for some reason to leave the carrier at the center of the CS/BG formation & go to another ship, yeah you just send over a chopper like an SH-60 to go pick them up and ferry them to wherever they need to go. when I wrote ice (RADM) as deputy Cdr of third fleet (four carriers) that might be one way he’d get around the fleet. (But also not 100% sure he’d even be at sea. That was kind of just for plot/emotional reasons to separate him from mav.) but so like.. if the fleet commander/deputy cdr had a family emergency (say: found out that Carole is gonna die soon) and he got cleared to leave, he could hop on a helicopter in range (SH-60 has a range of about 400 mi for instance—the similar USCG HH-60 jayhawk, which was canonically what picked up mav & brought him back to base after he blew up the darkstar, has a range of 800 mi; if not in range he’d have to move his carrier closer [wouldn’t happen, he would be SOL]) which would take him to the nearest allied airfield with a plane to fly home. Which is what happened in my fic. lots of hurdles to clear. it’s very inconvenient & obviously not encouraged.

here is a relevant section from my wips.

for the mission in Top gun: maverick, obviously we don’t know for sure where the mission takes place, but it’s clearly somewhere in the northern INDOPAC region close to the ocean in specifically third fleet’s AOR (area of responsibility). (the list of reasons I chose southeast Russia to be the enemy location in my fic is soooo unbelievably long.) the navy would have a carrier strike group in the region for some time before. then it would make the most expeditious sense for the aircrews (mav, rooster et al) to be flown in from SoCal to somewhere closer, like a navy/air force base in Japan or South Korea, before they get transferred either by land (walk onto the carrier) or by air (chopper pick-up). given the time constraints of the mission I’m going with chopper. Carriers are fast… like really fast by boat standards… but not “travel across the Pacific Ocean in a day” fast. and not “waste time for a port call pick-up” fast.

also (random piece of nautical knowledge I know for some reason) there are some (possibly non-military) reasons why you’d do a personnel transfer by sea. take cruise ships for instance. When they pull into a port, there’s a whole guy whose job it is to take over for the captain to steer the boat into the port they presumably know very well. so this is actually how local cruise ship pilots get onto cruise ships. disney cruises included.

sketchy as fuck. I’m not sure if there’s a similar concept for aircraft carriers when they pull into unfamiliar ports… but I wouldn’t be surprised. however that’s for the captain of the boat. I would be shocked if high-ranking managerial officers ever needed to embark & disembark like this. but i just think it’s kind of funny.

#LOVE h-60s they’re just pretty birds #the army’s uh-60 and hh-60 black hawk replacement the v-280 valor is also gorgeous #but probably very dangerous and not as operationally useful (too wide!)#i still haven’t watched black hawk down yet… It’s three hours long….#and I’ve already suffered through American sniper….#not currently on my watchlist #military aviation #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun #top gun maverick #asks #edts notes #thanks for the ask! again not an expert. a very enthusiastic and often misguided amateur

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1wn8ure · 9 months

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i don't wanna get over you (i wanna sit with you in bed)

"Twenty wives," Tubbo says, staring at Ranboo with something unreadable in his eyes.

"He's gonna make fun of me, y'know," Tubbo continues, leaning forward enough that Ranboo can smell the alcohol on his breath. "I don't even have one wife."

"Yeah?" they whisper back, forcing their voice to maintain its lighthearted tone. "Not sure that's much of a secret."

"Maybe not." Tubbo narrows his eyes, reaching out and placing a hand on Ranboo's chest. "Maybe I don't want a wife." ------- Or, my interpretation of c!Beeduo's first kiss for @b1rdza's MTIYS!

This fic is about Minecraft roleplay characters, not real-life content creators. I interpret c!Beeduo as a romantic relationship, but other interpretations are welcome! Just know they are romantically gay and in love in this piece <3

CW: Implied alcohol abuse, drunkenness

Full fic under the cut!

Tubbo_ whispers to you: r u awake Tubbo_ whispers to you: rabooo Tubbo_ whispers to you: raboob Tubbo_ whispers to you: boob man Tubbo_ whispers to you: ha

You whisper to Tubbo_: Tubbo? You whisper to Tubbo_: It’s 3 in the morning

Tubbo_ whispers to you: yayyyy Tubbo_ whispers to you: hey minuyes mman

You whisper to Tubbo_: What are you doing up? You whisper to Tubbo_: Tubbo? You whisper to Tubbo_: Are you okay?

Tubbo_ whispers to you: mfinee Tubbo_ whispers to you: just ppeacgy

You whisper to Tubbo_: Oh You whisper to Tubbo_: …are you drunk?

Tubbo_ whispers to you: mabe a litttle Tubbo_ whispers to you: raboo Tubbo_ whispers to you: u lookk like th mooon Tubbo_ shared coordinates Tubbo_ whispers to you: ooops

You whisper to Tubbo_: Oh jeez, that’s farther than usual. You whisper to Tubbo_: …do you want me to help you get home?

Tubbo_ whispers to you: no Tubbo_ whispers to you: waitt Tubbo_ whispers to you: yy

You whisper to Tubbo_: ?

Tubbo_ whispers to you: yess Tubbo_ whispers to you: comee find mme minutw man

You whisper to Tubbo_: Okay, I’ll be there soon.

Tubbo_ whispers to you: hury Tubbo_ whispers to you: i wannaa do smthn Tubbo_ whispers to you: that imma regrett

You whisper to Tubbo_: …how about you wait until I’m there, okay? You whisper to Tubbo_: Be safe, Tubbo.

Tubbo_ whispers to you: mm Tubbo_ whispers to you: sure Tubbo_ whispers to you: wtvrr u say mminute man ----- Tubbo is going to feel like hell when he wakes up.

That's Ranboo's first thought when he finally spots the president, lying on his back at the edge of the docks. His oversized suit jacket is draped over a fence nearby, his shoes left in a heap next to it. Carefully picking his way across the weathered spruce planks, Ranboo approaches him slowly, freezing when beautiful blue eyes flick over to him and spark with recognition. Tubbo immediately starts pushing himself up, staggering to his feet.

"Ra'booo," he croons, stumbling towards them. Ranboo lurches forward as Tubbo sways, placing their hands on Tubbo's shoulders to steady him before he takes a dive into the crashing waves below.

"Woah, woah, okay," Ranboo says, tugging Tubbo further from the edge. "Let's back up a bit, yeah?"

Tubbo follows without complaint, scooting a couple blocks toward the center of the pier before flopping back down, very nearly yanking Ranboo down with him. As it is, they just barely manage to catch themselves before they crash into the wood. Tubbo stares up at them, his head lolling to the side.

"Sit down with me," Tubbo begs, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. Ranboo sighs, shrugging off his suit jacket and laying it out before taking a seat next to the president.

"Man, you're really out of it, huh?" he muses, eying the gently swaying boy next to him warily. Tubbo merely shrugs, tipping his head backward and staring up at the stars.

"Have I told you that you look like the moon?" he asks. Ranboo breathes a laugh.

"Only about ten minutes ago," they reply. "But not before tonight."

Tubbo hums in response, squinting up at the aforementioned celestial body. He jabs a finger toward it, and Ranboo looks up to see a near-perfect half moon shimmering down on them.

"Creative," Ranboo teases, nudging Tubbo's side. Tubbo turns to him, sticking his tongue out.

"You're a dick," he retorts, and Ranboo gasps in mock offense.

"Rude!" they exclaim, moving as if they were going to stand up. "And to think, I came all the way out here to find you..."

"Nooooo!" Tubbo giggles, grabbing Ranboo's hand and tugging him back. "Don't leave me, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Ranboo chuckles as he complies, shaking his head ruefully. "How can I say no to that?"

Tubbo flops onto his back, still staring at Ranboo. "Exactly," he mumbles, squinting up at them. He studies them in silence for several moments, and Ranboo notes with a warm pleasure that, even drunk, Tubbo remembers to stare at his forehead, not his eyes.

"You're tall," he finally remarks, and Ranboo laughs.

"You're short," he jabs back, already settling into the familiar bickering.

"Take that back!"

"Why? It's tru-"

Ranboo's cut off as Tubbo's hand shoots out and wraps around his arm, yanking hard. He falls backward onto the spruce with a soft oomph, and Tubbo takes advantage of his moment of surprise to roll over, lying horizontally across Ranboo's torso and pinning him to the ground.

"Take it back," he sing-songs, his elbow digging into Ranboo's gut.

"Alright, alright-" Ranboo wheezes. He tries to push Tubbo off of him, but that only earns him a knee to the side. "Okay- You're not short! You're not short!"

Tubbo narrows his eyes at Ranboo, kneeing them one more time before he relents and rolls off. Ranboo gasps for air, just a little more dramatically than necessary. It earns him an affectionate eye-roll from Tubbo, who simply giggles at Ranboo's distress. Prime, his laugh, he’s beautiful-

"You're fineeee," he says, redirecting his attention up at the stars once more. Silence settles over them, and Ranboo watches Tubbo trace the constellations with his eyes, his face falling.

"Hey," Ranboo murmurs, nudging his shoulder. "Was there- um, a reason you're out here? Just- just because, or...?"

Tubbo doesn't answer immediately, but the little furrow that forms in his brow lets Ranboo know that he'd definitely heard their question. They're about to let it go, already regretting prying into Tubbo's personal life, but then they notice that Tubbo's withdrawn something from his pocket and is clenching it tightly in one hand.

Shimmering enchanted metal catches the moonlight, and Ranboo's heart twists.

"Oh," he whispers, and Tubbo squeezes his eyes shut.

Ranboo's willing to let that be the end of it, knowing how much Tubbo loathes seeming vulnerable. Not that Ranboo doesn't want to know- of course they do, it's so rare that Tubbo actually lets them know what he's dealing with, and they'd give anything to be able to lift some of the weight from his over-burdened shoulders- but Tubbo's not exactly in the best state of mind to be answering questions, and Ranboo would feel awful if they pushed him to admit something while inebriated he wouldn't have dared reveal sober.

Tubbo, however, seems to have other plans, pulling the compass up to his chest and looking over at Ranboo with something close to desperation in his expression.

"He's okay, right?" Tubbo wavers, tears gathering in his eyes. "He- he's okay. Right?"

"He's Tommy," Ranboo says as a way of an answer, inching just close enough to Tubbo that their shoulders touch. "I'm more worried about the land he's living on. There's only so many cobblestone towers a world can take."

Tubbo laughs wetly, shaking his head. "He- he's probably- probably telling all the animals about hi- his wives."

"Oh, for sure. How many does he have again? Twelve?"

Tubbo snorts, turning on his side to face Ranboo. His eyes still glisten, but the creases in his forehead have smoothed out and the compass has disappeared back into his pocket. "Think it- it was twenty last count."

Ranboo quirks a brow, mirroring Tubbo's position. "Wha- twenty? Jeez, that's a lot of wives."

Tubbo hums, tilting his head. A pensive look comes over his face, and Ranboo waits amusedly for him to puzzle out whatever's on his mind. They know that look, he’s thinking hard about something, it’s beautiful-

He takes the pause in conversation to check the time, groaning internally as he remembers they both have a cabinet meeting to attend early the next morning. Tubbo really should be getting home- it's late, and he's going to need all the sleep he can get. He should suggest that, soon. Just... not yet. It's been so long since they've been able to hang out like this, sue him if he wants it to last a little longer.

Eventually, Tubbo nods- a single, sharp motion that's swiftly followed by a wince and a soft groan.

"Head hurt?" Ranboo asks sympathetically.

"Twenty wives," Tubbo says, staring at Ranboo with something unreadable in his eyes. Ranboo hums noncommittally, waiting for Tubbo to elaborate on his newest train of thought.

"He's gonna make fun of me, y'know," Tubbo continues, and Ranboo raises his eyebrows.

"What for?" he asks, and Tubbo leans forward enough that Ranboo can smell the alcohol on his breath. They inhale sharply at the sudden closeness, entirely unsure of the direction the conversation is headed. His cheeks are so pink, he’s beautiful- Tubbo doesn't waver, face set in determination.

"Imma tell you a secret," he whispers, his voice just barely audible over the pounding of Ranboo's heart in his ears. "I don't even have one wife."

"Yeah?" they whisper back, forcing their voice to maintain its lighthearted tone. "Not sure that's much of a secret."

"Maybe not." Tubbo narrows his eyes, reaching out and placing a hand on Ranboo's chest. Immediately, warmth floods over their cheeks, and they stare with wide eyes as Tubbo tilts his head upward. "Maybe I don't want a wife."

"T-Tubbo," they stammer, wrapping a hand around his wrist. "What-"

"Kiss me," Tubbo interrupts, and Ranboo's breath seizes in his chest. Tubbo's hand twists in the front of their shirt, pressing hard into their chest. "Please, Ranboo," he begs, eyes wild and hair wilder, and Prime, he’s beautiful-

Instinctively, Ranboo tugs Tubbo's hand away, missing its presence as soon as its gone. They stare at each other, both in equal shock, before Tubbo's face crumples and he pulls back, staggering to his feet.

"Fuck," he whispers, stumbling backward several steps as he presses his palms into his eyes. His breathing quickens, and Ranboo's heart drops into his stomach as he starts to whimper quietly. "Fuck- shit-"

"Hey, wait-" Ranboo scrambles after him, gently grabbing his wrists and trying to pull them away from his face. He resists, and they chirp in distress. "Can you look at me? Please?"

Tubbo shakes his head, hiccupping sobs ripping through his chest. They give up on trying to move his hands, instead hooking their thumbs in their sleeves and wiping away the tears that are streaming down his face.

"Tubbo," they murmur, cupping his cheeks in their hands. "Look I- I'm not upset, okay?"

Tubbo melts into the contact, and his hands fall to his side though his eyes remain clenched tightly shut. He doesn't respond, but his sobs do seem to quiet somewhat, and Ranboo takes that as a sign that he's listening.

"I was just surprised," they soothe, thumbs swiping the space beneath Tubbo's eyes. "But it wasn't… wasn't bad."

Their face warms, and their throat feels tight as they force themselves to continue, months worth of buried thoughts springing to the surface all at once. "I think... I think I might like that."

Tubbo's eyes open, then, and he stares up at them with blatant hope in his eyes. "So you'll- you'll do it?" he pleads, practically falling forward onto Ranboo in his earnestness.

They hesitate, knowing all-too-well that they could never say yes. Not right now. Tubbo's too far gone right now. A step like that is… maybe not the best one to take when one party is severely inebriated and lacking in critical decision making skills.

"Later," Ranboo promises, and Tubbo's face falls. Ranboo hurries to explain, sensing the onset of another bout of sobs. "Tubbo, you're- you're drunk, right now. And I think you'd rather be sober, for that."

Tubbo grumbles discontentedly, looking down and pressing the crown of his head into Ranboo's chest. "Whyyyy," he whines, petulant and frustrated. Ranboo chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around the pouting president. Tubbo relaxes into the embrace, so much so that Ranboo suddenly finds himself supporting a decent percentage of the smaller boy's weight.

"You have to get home," Ranboo murmurs, rubbing circles into Tubbo’s back. After a moment, they add: “…and I need to know that you’re sure. That you want that, I mean.”

“I am sure,” Tubbo grumbles, clutching the back of Ranboo’s shirt. He’s getting heavier by the second, growing more and more content to let Ranboo support him rather than lift his own weight.

“You’re drunk,” Ranboo repeats, hesitating only briefly before lifting one hand to the back of Tubbo’s head and carding through his soft brown hair. “That doesn’t exactly count.”

Tubbo doesn’t respond, and momentarily Ranboo worries that he’d fallen asleep standing up, but then the hands pressing into his shirt move up to wrap around the back of his neck. “Ranboo, ‘m tired.”

“Tubbo, no kidding,” Ranboo teases, poking Tubbo’s side. “Are you gonna make me carry you all the way home?”

“M’ybe,” Tubbo slurs, and Ranboo sighs before bending down and sweeping the sleepy president up into a bridal carry. Tubbo giggles, staring at Ranboo with heavy lids and glazed eyes.

“So strong,” he says, and Ranboo huffs good-naturedly.

“Yeah, yeah,” they hum, rolling their eyes. “Funny how you only say that when I’m your only way home.”

That earns another fit of giggles from Tubbo, and Ranboo grins before tucking the president close to their chest. They start to walk, trying to keep their passenger as steady as possible considering his affinity for drunken motion-sickness. Some mistakes, you only make once.

“Boo?” Tubbo murmurs, and Ranboo’s heart flutters at the nickname.

“Yes, Bo?” he responds.

Tubbo smiles wide, his head lolling to the side. “I like when you say my name.”

Ranboo nearly stumbles over their own feet, ears growing warm. “Oh yeah, Tubbo?”

Tubbo preens with contentment, nestling into Ranboo’s chest. “Again,” he begs, eyes sliding shut.

“Tubbo,” Ranboo croons, tail coming up to wrap around the president’s ankle. “Tubbo, Tubbo, Tubbo.”

Tubbo sighs, cheeks colored bright pink. He murmurs something unintelligible, voice muffled into Ranboo’s shirt.

“Hm?” Ranboo asks, tapping Tubbo’s leg. “Too sleepy for words, are we?”

Tubbo moves his face away from Ranboo's chest, turning to look up at him. “Kiss me?” he asks again, and Ranboo nearly drops him.

“Tubbo,” they admonish gently, and Tubbo sticks out his bottom lip, giving them the most dramatic puppy-dog eyes they’ve ever seen. Ranboo has to look away, which only makes Tubbo whine louder. He starts to wriggle in their grasp, the hands around their neck doing their best to pull his head downward.

“I’ll drop you,” they warn, and Tubbo falls still with a huff. The pout doesn’t disappear, only growing in intensity. Thankfully, Tubbo’s home appears on the horizon, and Ranboo shifts him to one side so they can grab their spare key. They shoulder the door open, heading straight to Tubbo’s bedroom.

When they try to set him down in his bed, Tubbo clings onto their neck with an iron grip, stubbornness still furrowing his brow. Ranboo rolls his eyes affectionately, leaning over so that Tubbo’s back rests on the bed.

“You’re gonna have to let me go, Bo,” Ranboo says, cupping Tubbo’s cheek in one hand and bracing himself up with the other.

“I don’ wanna,” Tubbo mumbles, pressing his face into Ranboo’s hand. Ranboo can tell that he’s fighting sleep, eyes sliding shut periodically only for him to wrench them back open. “You’re gonna leave.”

“You need to sleep this off.” Gently, Ranboo reaches up and pries Tubbo’s fingers open, loosening his grip. They slip their neck out of Tubbo’s grasp, and the president’s arms fall onto the bed as if made of lead. The resulting grumble is entirely incoherent, Tubbo’s discontented words slurred by exhaustion and drink combined.

With a sigh, Ranboo stands, glancing back and forth from the door to Tubbo. The president is going to fall asleep any moment now. Ranboo could try and convince him to change into something more comfortable, but they're not sure Tubbo would let them out of the room long enough for that to happen. He’s out of his jacket, at least, and that’s something.

Oh, crap. His jacket.

Ranboo sucks in a breath as the mental image of Tubbo’s suit jacket, abandoned at the docks next to his shoes, pops into their head. They’ve spoken to Tubbo enough to know that he only owns the one, and he can’t exactly show up to a cabinet meeting half-dressed.

Well, he could. Ranboo’s sure nobody would blame Tubbo for not being dressed to the nines every day of the week. But Tubbo would feel awful, and that’s one self-deprecating spiral Ranboo would like to avoid if possible.

Tubbo, oblivious to Ranboo’s newfound distress, rolls over onto his stomach, arms spread out to either side of him. He mumbles something into his pillow, and Ranboo stirs from his train of thought.

“What was that?” Ranboo asks, mind still racing as he tries to find a solution to the predicament he’d discovered.

“‘m hot,” Tubbo whines, and Ranboo absent-mindedly places a hand on the back of his neck, knowing that their natural body temperature would feel cool against Tubbo’s skin. Tubbo hums in contentment, and Ranboo freezes as they realize what exactly they’d just done.

It’d felt so natural, like it was something they’d done a million times before. Ranboo knows it’s not, knows that tonight is the most physically affectionate the two of them had been… ever. But Tubbo’s certainly not complaining, and it’s not like they mind the casual touch either.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Prime, how many times had they stopped themself from doing something similar in the past? From reaching out and grabbing Tubbo’s hand as they walk, from trailing their fingers across his shoulders as they pass each other in a hallway, from carding through his hair as they’ve carried him home many, many nights before?

Ranboo had stopped themself, because the president had never shown any sign of reciprocation. They’d grown used to the tender ache that rested just beneath their skin, the flames that roared throughout their chest when they heard him laugh. They had been determined to learn to live with that gentle pain, knowing that to lose him would be so much worse. And they’d fumbled at the beginning, but they’d gotten so good at ignoring the traitorous thoughts, at being a good minutes man and a better friend and that’s all.

But tonight…

Tubbo’s breathing slows as his limbs relax, his lips settling into a satisfied smile.

Kiss me. Please, Ranboo.

He’s drunk. He’s drunk and he might not have meant it but he might have, he might want this too, Prime you hope-

Nope. No. Not thinking that. Not yet.

Ranboo waits, still as a statue, until Tubbo’s breathing finds a steady rhythm before carefully pulling his hand back, holding it close to his chest. He waits a couple more moments to ensure the president doesn’t wake, then edges toward the door, slipping silently out into the hallway. They speed-walk toward the front door, stepping across the threshold and easing the door closed behind them.

Only once they hear the latch click into place do they release their held breath, leaning their head against the wood and running their fingers over the palm that still burns with residual warmth. They can’t seem to stop tracing circles over the area, even after the night’s chill has stolen any heat that might’ve remained.

The jacket, they remind themself eventually, shoving all of the thoughts that are buzzing around the front of their mind into the metaphorical chest they’d been locked in for months prior. They don’t seem to fit quite right anymore, but he refuses to acknowledge the few that escape through the cracks in the lid.

Keeping their eyes firmly trained on the ground below them, they make their way back to the dock, doing their best not to think of anything but the jacket and the shoes.

Their best has never been that great, especially not when it comes to controlling their own mind.

Eventually, they reach their destination, and they grab Tubbo’s jacket in one hand and his shoes in the other. Spotting their own coat lying on the rocks nearby, they sling Tubbo’s over their shoulder and pick it up as well. They take a moment before making their return trip, still undecided on what they’re going to do once they arrive.

Because the thing is, Tubbo will not make the cabinet meeting without help in the morning. Ranboo knows this. And while he could call Quackity for help, or Fundy, even, Tubbo might not want the rest of the cabinet to know that their president had spent the past night drunk out of his mind.

In the past, Ranboo would just walk over in the morning and wake Tubbo up with a bottle of water and a regen potion. But this is the most inebriated they’ve seen Tubbo in a while, and something in their mind rebels at the thought of leaving him alone when he’s so entirely incapacitated. “What-ifs” buzz around their head at breakneck speed, each new scenario making them mentally recoil even more than the last.

Reluctantly, they come to the realization that they’re not going to be able to leave Tubbo’s house tonight. Part of them worries about the invasion of privacy, really doesn’t want to make Tubbo angry when he realizes that they’d stayed over without his explicit consent, but the larger portion knows that Tubbo would rather get his teeth kicked out of his head than appear incompetent by missing a cabinet meeting. Surely, he’ll understand once they explain themselves.

Growing more confident in their decision by the second, Ranboo begins their trek back to Tubbo’s home, both jackets slung over their shoulder. They’ll keep watch at night, just to make sure that Tubbo’s alright, and in the morning they’ll give him one of the potions they keep on them at all times and make sure he’s hydrated and fed.

They’ll go to the cabinet meeting, and then…

They don’t exactly know what happens next. The lid of the metaphysical chest rattles, hopeful thoughts aching to be set loose, but they resolutely shove them down.

Chances are, Tubbo won’t even remember what happened tonight. But Ranboo… Ranboo’s going to remind him. They already know they couldn’t live with themself if they didn’t at least try, after tonight. And if it was nothing but drunken ramblings, then they’ll both laugh it off, and Ranboo will pretend it doesn’t hurt, and they’ll go back to being friends.

And if it was real…

Kiss me. Please, Ranboo.

The half-moon shines overhead, illuminating the cloud of steam that rises from Ranboo’s mouth as he whispers an inaudible Okay. ———— Tubbo feels like absolute shit.

His eyes are slammed closed almost as soon as they’re opened, the dim light of his room sending a pickaxe crashing through the center of his forehead. He groans instinctively, and then immediately clenches his lips shut as his stomach roils, his entire body protesting consciousness with a vengeance.

“Yeah, I bet,” a voice murmurs from across the room, and Tubbo bolts upright only to immediately clasp one hand over his mouth and the other over his eyes. He waits for his head to stop spinning somewhat before tentatively peeking through his fingers, squinting blearily at the blurry blob of black and white sitting in his bedroom.

Slowly, the world comes into definition, and Tubbo can make out the vague shape of Ranboo sitting in a small wooden chair, legs crossed and a book set down on their lap. Tentatively, he lowers his hand from his mouth, his brow furrowing as his brain tries to catch up to the situation.

Ranboo stands, walking over to Tubbo’s nightstand. He hears the sound of pouring liquid, and then a smooth glass is being held out to him, filled with room-temperature water. Tubbo accepts it, taking a small sip as his mind continues to process.

“Wha-” he starts to ask, but he’s cut off as Ranboo shoves another container toward him.

“Potion first,” Ranboo insists, wiggling the bright pink bottle toward Tubbo. Tubbo winces, wanting to protest the waste of resources, but Ranboo’s face leaves no room for debate.

With a grimace, Tubbo accepts and uncorks the potion, suppressing a gag at the sickly sweet taste of regeneration. He drinks about a quarter of the bottle before his stomach starts to object, and he pauses to give it a moment to kick in. Ranboo seems satisfied, moving back to the chair and marking their page before closing their book, snapping it shut with a clap that makes Tubbo flinch as his head pounds with renewed vigor.

“Oww,” he groans, glaring daggers at his minutes man. “Dick.”

“Yup!” Ranboo chirps, far too chipper and smug for so early in the morning. “Come on, Mr. President. Cabinet meeting in thirty.”

“Fuck,” Tubbo curses, rubbing his eyes groggily. He chances another sip of regen, his nausea already quelled by the first few sips. It’s a good brew, he notes in mild surprise, quick-acting and effective. He’s already starting to feel like he might be able to function enough to get through the day, and the fog is clearing slowly from his head.

Thank Prime Ranboo was here, or Tubbo would not have made it to that cabinet meeting.

…

Wait.

“Why are you here?” Tubbo asks, thoroughly confused. He hadn’t had anyone over the night before, had he?

No, wait, he’d gone out to the docks, hadn’t he? Then how…

Ranboo’s face is sympathetic as he watches Tubbo puzzle through the sequence of events, something flashing in his eyes that Tubbo is much too preoccupied to sort through, but would probably interest him otherwise. Right now, though, Tubbo is trying to discern how he got from piss-drunk out on the docks to waking up hungover in his own bed, with a stupid-kind and overly-helpful enderman sitting-

Oh.

Shit.

Tubbo’s eyes widen as his gaze moves to Ranboo, who waves sheepishly at him. Vague memories drift through Tubbo’s mind, and he whips out his communicator, already dreading what he’ll find.

He holds his breath while scanning the messages they’d exchanged last night, breathing a sigh of relief when he finds nothing particularly incriminating left in print. Okay. Okay, this is fine, Ranboo just helped him get home. That’s it, that’s fine, and then they stayed the night because they’re a good person and a good friend.

Ignoring the last lingering effects of nausea, Tubbo downs the rest of the potion, setting the empty bottle down on the nightstand and placing the full glass next to it. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and goes to stand, despite every muscle in his body aching in protest. Ranboo moves forward to steady him, placing their hands on Tubbo’s shoulders. Tubbo looks up in surprise, jerking away.

“Oh-” Ranboo blanches, tucking his hands behind his back. “I- sorry, I just-”

“No no,” Tubbo blurts, “S’fine, just- didn’t expect, y’know-”

“Yeah, no, right.” Ranboo nods, eyes darting around the room nervously. They stand there in silence for an awkward amount of time, Tubbo eventually clearing his throat and motioning toward his suit jacket hanging on the other side of the room.

“Uh- meeting, and all, we should probably-”

“Yes! Yeah. Meeting. For sure.”

Tubbo moves past Ranboo, taking extra care not to brush against his shoulder. He picks up his jacket and slings it over his shoulder, realizing for the first time that he’d slept in his slacks and button-up. He smooths the wrinkles in his pants as best he can while sliding on his shoes, toes pinching uncomfortably in the too-small loafers.

There’s a small shuffle as Ranboo moves past him out of the room, and Tubbo watches as they retreat down the small hallway, tail flicking nervously behind them. Prime-fucking-damnit, that’s endearing.

Tubbo exhales through his teeth, rolling out his neck. Subconsciously, a hand drifts up to rest on his shoulder, where he can still feel the faint imprint of Ranboo’s hand. As soon as his fingers touch the fabric of his shirt, his brain catches up with his body, and he jerks his hand away.

He has got to get a hold of himself. If Tubbo’s not careful, he’s going to slip, and he’s got enough on his plate without potentially ruining the first new friendship he’s made in ages.

It’d taken him a while to get it, at first. It was all-too-easy to blame his racing heart on the stress of his position, simple to attribute the light-headedness to exhaustion. But then, Ranboo had brought him dinner a couple nights ago, standing in his office and refusing to leave until he’d cleaned his plate. It was nothing, really, just the brush of fingers as a dish was passed from hand to hand, or maybe the candlelight flickering across dual-toned features, or the way he laughed at all of Tubbo’s stupid jokes.

Tubbo had closed the door with a wave and a smile, heart dropping into his stomach as he watched the minutes man leave and realized that he wanted nothing more than for him to stay.

Ranboo is his friend, Tubbo reminds himself, and that is good and miraculous and absolutely, totally, completely fine.

He just needs the part of his mind that disagrees to Shut. The Fuck. Up.

“Tubbo?” Ranboo calls from the front of the house, and Tubbo is snapped out of his reverie.

“Coming, bossman,” he responds, giving himself one last stern reprimand before heading down the hall, presidential smile already pasted on his face. He’s about to walk straight out the door, expecting Ranboo to be waiting outside, but he’s stopped by the sound of movement on his right. Looking over at his paltry excuse for a kitchenette, Tubbo balks as he spots Ranboo rifling through his cabinets, hustling and bustling around the different appliances as he prepares some sort of dish.

Tubbo doesn’t even realize he’s staring until Ranboo turns around, their ears turning dark purple as they extend a plate toward him.

“Um- Apparently breakfast helps. With, y’know- hangovers?” Ranboo’s tail whips wildly behind them as Tubbo wordlessly accepts the plate, too stunned to tell Ranboo the potion had done the trick already. Not that he would’ve, anyway.

“You cook?” Tubbo blurts out eventually, regretting his decision only briefly before Ranboo’s tail stills and the nervousness of their posture fades.

“I’ve brought you like, fifteen meals by now,” Ranboo says, raising an eyebrow bemusedly. “Do you think they just appear out of thin air?”

This time, it’s Tubbo’s turn to blush, cheeks reddening in indignation. “I didn’t know!” he protests, shifting his gaze to the food. All those dinners take on new significance as he thinks about how long Ranboo must have spent preparing each one. He stares at the eggs and toast on his plate with a sort of awe, grabbing the fork that is offered to him and shoveling a bite into his mouth.

As always, it’s absolutely heavenly, and he hears Ranboo chuckle as he closes his eyes in contentment.

“That good?” Ranboo asks, and Tubbo laments that both of his hands are too busy to flip them off. He tells Ranboo as much, mouth still full of scrambled eggs. The way Ranboo’s nose wrinkles as he laughs makes Tubbo have to take another heaping bite of eggs to keep himself from making a comment he’d regret.

“Can you eat and walk?” Ranboo asks, checking the time on his communicator. “I know you like to be early.”

Tubbo nods, still not quite trusting himself to speak. He follows as Ranboo heads for the door, hoping desperately that the warmth that spreads across his cheeks as Ranboo holds it open for him isn’t as obvious as it feels.

My hands are full, he reminds himself, walking just fast enough that he can stay in front of Ranboo. They held the door because my hands are full and they’ve got fucking manners.

The walk to the White House is full of one-sided conversation, Tubbo using his full mouth as an excuse to answer in only nods or head shakes. If Ranboo notices the strangeness of his sudden appreciation for table manners, they don’t remark on it, content to fill the silence with their own thoughts.

“I’m like- fully convinced that Enderchest is like, super intelligent. Because there was this one time, right, where he just- I was trying to get him home, and he kept running the other way because there were like, a ton of mobs, and he didn’t want- he didn’t want to run through them.”

Tubbo responds with a wordless hum, trying very hard to simultaneously focus on Ranboo’s words and silence the thoughts that make themselves known every time he speaks. It’s a careful balancing act of paying just enough attention to respond with the appropriate movement without getting tripped up in the fact that just hearing Ranboo’s voice makes Tubbo’s heart flutter. It’s a difficult task, and thankfully Tubbo is soon saved from his predicament by the appearance of the White House up ahead of them.

Slipping the plate back into his inventory, Tubbo makes sure that he’s the one to grab the door this time. Ranboo shoots him a grateful smile as they pass through, and fuck, there’s really no winning, is there, because that’s fucking adorable too.

He needs to get through this cabinet meeting. After that, he and Ranboo can go their separate ways for the rest of the day and Tubbo can figure out a new way to shut up his brain because clearly, willpower alone is not enough.

With a groan, Tubbo walks into the White House, letting the door slam shut behind him.

It’s gonna be a long fucking day. —— Two hours later, Tubbo sits slumped over their conference room table, rubbing his eyes wearily. The rest of the cabinet has already trickled out, Quackity storming off in a huff for the fifth time in as many days. At least the discussion had been slightly more civil today, by which Tubbo means they had waited a whole ten minutes before devolving into shouting.

Tubbo presses his palms into his eyes, willing away the headache that nearly every cabinet meeting brings. He hears footsteps re-enter the room, but he doesn’t look up.

“Meeting’s over,” he grumbles. “I’m not arguing anymore.”

“Uh, that’s- that’s good, ‘cause I don’t really like arguing all that much.”

Tubbo’s head jerks up, and he groans internally as he locks eyes with his minutes man before swiftly shifting his gaze to their chin. “Shit, sorry,” he rushes. “Thought you were Quackity.”

Ranboo simply hums in response, standing near the doorway and shifting nervously. Their eyes are darting around the room, never settling in one place, and Tubbo can see them worrying their lip as they puzzle through some sort of internal dilemma.

He can’t help the amused smile that spreads over his face as he watches. “Need something, bossman?” Tubbo asks, propping up his chin with his hand.

“I- Are you busy?” Ranboo asks, tail lashing wildly behind them. “Like, right now?”

Tubbo shrugs, thinking of the very large stack of paperwork sitting abandoned on his desk. “Not really,” he lies, because Ranboo seems like they’ve got something up their sleeve and Tubbo is… curious. That’s it. Curious.

(Enamored, smitten, infatuated. Some might say those are much better words to describe Tubbo in this moment, but Tubbo would tell them to fuck off and mind their own business.)

“Oh. That’s good, that’s- that’s good!” Ranboo sucks in a breath, rocking backward on their heels. Tubbo has to stifle a laugh at the expression on their face, which is an impressive mix of sheepish hope and absolute terror.

“That’s good, is it?” Tubbo teases, leaning forward. “Any reason?”

There is a reason, of course, Ranboo wouldn’t be this nervous for no reason, but it’s endlessly fun to watch Ranboo try and decide what they’re going to say. Eventually, though, Tubbo has mercy on his poor, anxious minutes man.

“How about we start walking, and you can tell me where we’re going on the way?” he proposes, and the tension in Ranboo’s shoulders drops.

“Yeah,” they sigh, nodding. “Yeah, that works.”

Tubbo chuckles as he scoots his chair backward, standing. “Lead the way, minutes man.”

Ranboo nods one more time before spinning on his heel and scurrying out of the room. Tubbo has to practically run to catch up, considering the speed at which Ranboo’s moving and the considerable difference in leg length.

He does catch up, though. Because Ranboo stays behind to hold the door for him. The absolute prick.

“You’re a prick,” Tubbo says as he walks though, which startles a laugh from Ranboo.

“Now- now what was that for?” they ask amusedly, shutting the door behind them as they both begin to walk across the spruce platform. Tubbo shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets so he doesn’t do something stupid because it’s kind of cold outside and his fingers are chilly.

“Just reminding you,” Tubbo says, grinning. Ranboo shakes his head, rolling their eyes.

“Gee, thanks,” they say sarcastically.

“You’re welcome!”

The conversation lulls for a moment, which leaves far too much room for Tubbo’s mind to run wild. Which isn’t good. He needs to find a conversation topic that’s safe, that they can banter and giggle and be normal about.

But Ranboo is close enough that Tubbo can feel their sleeves brush against each other with every other step, and that’s really not doing good things for Tubbo’s brain. Or his filter.

“Thank you for last night,” he blurts, face going beet red as soon as he registers the words that have just spilled out of his mouth. He looks to his right, away from Ranboo, pretending to admire the same scenery he’d seen a million times before.

There’s a moment of silence before Ranboo responds. “Of- Of course. It was nothing, really.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” Tubbo mumbles, shame rising suddenly from somewhere deep within him and burning his ears. “I know how I get. I shouldn’t have messaged you.”

“You can always message me,” Ranboo says, coming to a stop. Tubbo slows as well, but he still doesn’t turn to face them. “I mean- I’d rather you message me than be alone, you know?”

After a moment, they add: “And I don’t mind. Really. I’ll carry you home whenever you need me, Bo.”

Tubbo does not feel chills run down his spine, and “Bo” does not echo in his head over and over again.

He does, however, cringe as he takes in Ranboo’s words. “You carried me home?”

He looks over at Ranboo, who’s got a hand on the back of their neck. “Um… yeah, you- you couldn’t really walk, so…”

Tubbo winces, the gap in his memory making more and more sense every moment. “That bad?”

“I, um…” Ranboo folds their arms around themselves, and Tubbo does not miss how close their arms had been. “I take it you- you don’t remember, then.”

Tubbo’s heart plummets into his stomach, and his mouth suddenly feels very dry. “Remember what?” he asks, dreading the answer.

“Ah- um.” Ranboo’s nervousness seems to return tenfold, and it’s not until they step off the wooden path and onto the grass that Tubbo realizes that they’ve walked past the borders of New L’manburg and into the Greater SMP. Ranboo walks as they talk, leading them both off of the Prime Path and into a small wooded area.

“You… you said some things that made me think- which it’s fine if you don’t! That’s fine, and I can stop but- but you said something, and I thought that maybe you felt the same? But like- again, if I’m wrong then just- just forget all about this and move on, yeah?”

“Ranboo, what are you-“

Tubbo’s words die on his tongue as they step into a small clearing, the trees around them forming a near perfect circle around the meadow. There’s a picnic blanket set out in the grass, an honest-to-goodness wicker basket atop it. There are pink tulips in a crystal vase, a candle that flickers with the wind, and a blush the color of alliums on Ranboo’s face.

“What is this?” Tubbo whispers, moving forward toward the blanket. He runs his fingers over the handle of the basket, looking back to see Ranboo staring at him with something so painfully hopeful in their eyes.

“It’s… it’s a date,” they mumble, clenching their hands close to their chest. “If you- if you want it to be.”

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

“Prime, yes,” Tubbo blurts, butterflies springing to life full-force in his stomach. “Gods, I- yes. So fucking much, yes.”

Tears spring to life in Ranboo’s eyes, and for a moment Tubbo feels something close to terror and then Ranboo’s laughing in relief, scrambling forward and grabbing Tubbo’s hands. “Oh, thank Prime,” they breathe, closing their eyes and holding Tubbo’s fingers up to their cheek. “You have- you have no idea how relieving that is.”

Tubbo laughs right along with them, feeling absolutely giddy. “Gods,” he sighs, pressing his head into Ranboo’s chest. “What did I even say?”

Ranboo stiffens, then, and Tubbo looks up at him in confusion. “Ranboo?” he asks, and Ranboo drops his hand.

“What did I say?” Tubbo asks again, this time much more worried for the response.

“Well-“ Ranboo begins, then cuts themselves off. They open their eyes and sigh, and the anxiety on their face morphs into something sure and determined.

“Tell me if this is okay,” they murmur, and then Ranboo’s hands are on Tubbo’s waist and they’re leaning forward and before he even registers what’s happening Tubbo’s hands are in their hair and he’s meeting them halfway.

Their lips crash together, and it’s messy and clumsy and desperate and elated, and when they break apart the air is filled with giddy laughter. Tubbo’s knees feel weak, and Ranboo must be the same way because they practically collapse onto the picnic blanket, tugging Tubbo down with them.

The world seems like it’s spinning around them, and Tubbo feels simultaneously like he can’t get enough air in his lungs and like he’ll never need to breathe again. He rolls over to look at Ranboo only to find that they’re already looking back at him, and all it takes is one glance for them both to dissolve into giggles once more.

“Holy fuck,” Tubbo breathes, and Ranboo nods in agreement next to him.

Tubbo scoots closer, and he feels Ranboo’s arms wrap around him and pull him tight to their chest. Tubbo relaxes into their torso, listening to the rhythmic sound of their two hearts pounding in unison.

He thinks he might be dreaming, honestly, and he tells Ranboo as much.

“Well, if this is a dream then we’re both having the same one, and that’d be- that’d be pretty weird.”

Tubbo hums, snuggling into the chill of Ranboo’s body. “I can’t believe you kissed me on the first date. Desperate, much?” he teases, and Ranboo squawks in protest.

“You asked me to!” they defend, whacking the back of Tubbo’s head with their tail. “That’s what- that’s what you said. You asked me to.”

“Did I really?” Tubbo muses, and he thinks the fact might have mortified him, before, but he can’t quite find himself to feel ashamed when it led to this. “What can I say, I’m just that bold.”

“Oh, so when you do it, it’s bold, but when I do it, it’s desperate?”

“Exactly. You get it!”

“No I- I just do not, actually, at all.” Ranboo sighs, nestling their chin into the crown of Tubbo’s head. “And so what if I was desperate,” they murmur. “I’ve waited like- like months.”

“Months?” Tubbo pulls away slightly so he can look at Ranboo in shock. “Really?”

Ranboo blinks, amused smile spreading across their face. “I mean- yeah?”

Tubbo whistles lowly, shaking his head. “How the fuck did you do that? It’s been less than a week and I could hardly stand to be in the same room as you.”

“Some of us have self control, y’know,” Ranboo teases, poking Tubbo’s side.

“Oh, fuck off,” Tubbo groans, rolling out of Ranboo’s arms and onto his back. “It’s not my fault you’re so…”

Tubbo bites his tongue. Endearing, is what he was going to say, but one look at Ranboo’s face and Tubbo knows he wouldn't be living that one down any time soon. Ranboo waits with a quirked brow for Tubbo to complete his sentence, responding quip already prepared on his tongue.

“…annoying. Fucking annoying, can’t get rid of you,” Tubbo finishes, which earns him a startled laugh and smack on the shoulder in response.

“That is not what you were gonna say,” Ranboo complains.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Tubbo shrugs. “How would you know?”

“I know you,” Ranboo says, and Tubbo thinks it was supposed to be a joke but it comes out painfully genuine and fuck, it makes Tubbo want to kiss them all over again.

And something tries to stop him, something reaches out and tries to tell that thought to be quiet and stay hidden. But Ranboo is lying so close to him, and there’s a vase with his favorite flowers nearby, and Tubbo is sick of listening to that something.

“You do,” he murmurs, sitting up and placing a hand on Ranboo’s cheek.

“Kiss me?” Tubbo asks, a perfect echo of the night before, although only one of them knows it.

”Okay.”

#dream smp #dsmp #beeduo #fanfic #beeduo fanfic #cranboo #ctubbo #cranboo fanfic #ctubbo fanfic #alcohol cw #tubbo fanfic #ranboo fanfic #tubbo #ranboo #new l'manburg #1wn8ure.writes

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onlyjaeyun · 3 months

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and since we're talking babies: poison!heeyn will be a cute little family of five after giving sungmi two baby sisters and making seungie a girl dad just how he's always wanted. poison!ninghoon will have a girl first and then two boys and their family pictures will always consists of them either wearing matching fits or colour coordinated ones bc the wives said it and who is the rest to disobey 🤕

#SIGH im so nostalgic today #its een almost five months since poison cAN YOU BELIEVE IT #; poison

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qqueenofhades · 11 months

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Hmmm that post does give me pause. Why is it now, as we see a coordinated attack on women's rights, that we see a rise in "men's mental health" discussions in the mainstream? I even saw one guy talk about how we need to remove the cultural expectation of college because too many women were going and not enough men and that would "lock" too many men away from "accessing" women as wives (yes, please gag along with me) because the college educated women would be making more money than the non-college educated guy and would look for a partner on their level, worsening the singleness crisis for men. Then he also mentioned that men NEED a wife because it improves their physical health and standard of living and their lifespan and blah blah blah so college was bad actually for taking women away from men and whatever but still. Is it an attempt by the right wing to "justify' the attack on women's autonomy, under the guise of it 'helping men's mental health'?

I mean... that's the fascist agenda/mindset in a nutshell. Men are automatically entitled to women regardless of how terrible they themselves are, women should not attend college or do anything that improves their independence, income, or ability to live without a husband, society should punish women who do not immediately become traditional wives and mothers and deliberately make it harder for them not to do that, women should make men's lives easier regardless of what sacrifices that entails, and they exist basically to support men, not to be full people in and of themselves. "Remove the cultural expectation of college," my ass. I would cordially like to invite that guy to jump into the nearest lake and stay there.

Men don't own women, ever, and they absolutely aren't entitled to them by being mediocre, sexist, homophobic, lazy, stupid pieces of shit who think the only way to get a woman is to drag them down to their level (which says a lot about them). But yes, as discussed, this is the right-wing reactionary/fascist/white supremacist narrative that is being pushed into the mainstream, especially as Republicans desperately try to change the subject from abortion (since it's reliably getting them pummeled in every competitive election). So the main social issue actually isn't about their relentless attacks on women; it's about "men's mental health!" Which misleadingly appropriates the socially-aware language that is currently in vogue, makes it sound like men are being harmed by all this focus on women's bodily autonomy, and otherwise is a big fat pile of total nonsense. So yeah.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

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bongsuvn · 7 months

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Art by Not A Starchild

KHẢI ĐỊNH: THE EMPEROR WHO DIDN’T LIKE WOMEN

(Tiếng Việt ở dưới)

Emperor Khải Định (1885 – 1925), named Nguyễn Phúc Tuấn, also known as Nguyễn Phúc Bửu Đảo, was the 12th emperor of the Nguyễn dynasty and father Emperor Bảo Đại (Vietnam’s last monarch). Due to historical beliefs, Emperor Khải Định’s disregard of his harem women allowed others to deem him impotent. Having an impotent husband who never noticed her but gambled and wasted her family money away was the reason why First-ranked Consort Trương, his wife, left him to become a nun.

Abandoned by his wife, Bửu Đảo relied on the palace maid’s care. A young and beautiful maid, Hoàng Thị Cúc, suddenly became pregnant and insisted that the baby was of imperial blood, despite Bửu Đảo’s mother’s attempt to find out who the real father was. Because of this, many speculated that his son, Bảo Đại, was not his; some rumored that he took a tonic that made him take interest in women, allowing him to bless Hoàng Thị Cúc with a child.

From a modern point of view, based on the press and research regarding Khải Định’s life, he was not impotent; he just liked men (or very asexual). This could explain why he often showed boredom towards his maids, as well as the way he treated his wives. Although everyone knew of his impotence, many mandarins still wished to wed their daughters to him for imperial favors. Unable to refuse, the emperor often said: “My harem is a chaste temple, whoever wants to be a nun can enter!” Therefore, although Khải Định refused women, he still had a large harem, not unlike his ancestors. Moreover, in the book Inner Court Stories of the Nguyễn Emperors, Nguyễn Đắc Xuân wrote: “In the mornings, when attending to national duties within the Palace of Political Diligence, his wives stood in two rows to welcome the emperor. However, he would collect the robe’s sleeves to his side so they wouldn’t touch any woman.”

Within ten years as ruler, Khải Định raised Nguyễn Đắc Vọng as his imperial bodyguard, a male favorite of the time. At night, the emperor would hug Vọng to sleep. Due to this ingenuity in obedience, Đắc Vọng was promoted to Fifth-ranked Imperial Bodyguard.

Another story revealed that at festivals with dance performances organized by his harem, Emperor Khải Định would watch with boredom. At one point, he even told the mandarins to replace these dancers with male ones. He seemed to enjoy this, and even ordered the male dancers to apply powder, blush, and lipstick to have fun with him.

In the Letter of Seven Clauses by Phan Chu Trinh, which detailed the sins of Emperor Khải Định, he described the emperor as “wearing ludicrous garments that inappropriately mixed Western and native designs,” as well as “dressing improperly.” Historical documentation regarding Khải Định’s wardrobe showed that he invested a lot in designing the mandarins’, soldiers’, and his personal fashion that was clearly anti-tradition. Chu Trinh said: “The emperor liked and attached great importance to make-up and color coordination by applying gems, gold, silver, and diamonds onto clothes, pants, shoes, boots, hats, and scabbards. He created multiple dragon robes that went against traditional standards of former rulers. In addition, instead of wearing traditional boots, he wore shiny Western leather boots decorated with silver patterns, as well as wearing jeweled belts, white gloves, white Western trousers, and carrying French swords, but his head was still wrapped in Vietnamese turbans, and sometimes even conical hats. His conical hats were made of feathers, covered with golden silk, and had golden tips. The emperor also had black conical hats.”

Khải Định’s tomb, Ứng Mausoleum, in Huế, considered as the most elaborate imperial tomb in Vietnam, was designed by the emperor himself during his reign. The mausoleum was inlaid with porcelain, jade, and precious stone from Japan, China, and the West. Upon entering his tomb, or when reviewing his dressing, one can imagine the luxurious (or to the LGBT+ community, fabulous) personality of Emperor Khải Định.

The famous Hồ Chí Minh also produced a series of taunting works regarding Khải Định, including the short story The Anonymous Visit of the Emperor and the play The Bamboo Dragon, with many details attacking the emperor’s gender expression.

==================

KHẢI ĐỊNH: VỊ VUA KHÔNG THÍCH ĐÀN BÀ

Vua Khải Định (1885 – 1925) tên là Nguyễn Phúc Tuấn, còn gọi là Nguyễn Phúc Bửu Đảo, là vị vua đời thứ 12 của nhà Nguyễn, cha Bảo Đại. Xét trên quan niệm thời xưa, việc Khải Định không đoái hoài đến cung tần mĩ nữ của mình khiến ông bị coi là bất lực, tức kém khả năng trong tình dục, chăn gối. Việc chồng bất lực, không ngó ngàng gì đến mình, lại cộng thêm ham mê cờ bạc, tiêu tốn của cải gia đình nhà vợ là lí do khiến bà Đệ nhất giai phi Trương thị bỏ ông mà đi tu.

Bị vợ bỏ, Bửu Đảo phải dựa vào sự chăm sóc của những người hầu trong phủ. Tình cờ thì một nô tì trẻ trung, xinh đẹp là Hoàng Thị Cúc đã mang thai và nhất quyết cái thai đó là giọt máu của ông, cho dù thân mẫu của ngài dùng mọi cách để tìm ra ai là cha đứa trẻ. Vì thế mà đã xuất hiện nhiều lời đồn đoán Bảo Đại cũng không phải con ruột của ông; người lại đồn rằng ông dùng thuốc bổ, tự dưng muốn gần gũi phụ nữ, nên ông mới ban ơn cho cung nữ Hoàng Thị Cúc.

Nhưng xét trên cái nhìn hiện đại, báo chí và những người quan tâm đến cuộc đời của Khải Định cho rằng ông không hề bất lực, mà thật ra là ông không thích đàn bà, chỉ thích đàn ông (hoặc là hoàn toàn vô tính luyến ái). Đây có thể giải thích vì sao ngài thường tỏ ra buồn chán không quan tâm tới các thị nữ, cũng như cách ông đối xử với những người vợ của mình. Lời kể rằng tuy ai cũng biết Khải Định bất lực, nhưng các quan đại thần vẫn muốn tiến con gái mình vào cung vì lợi ích gia tộc. Khó lòng chối từ, vua thường nói với các quan: “Nội cung của Trẫm là một cái chùa, ai muốn tu thì cứ vào!” Do đó, dù Khải Định không gần gũi đàn bà, ông vẫn có đủ tam cung lục viện như các vua tiền triều. Hơn nữa, trong cuốn Chuyện nội cung các vua Nguyễn, ông Nguyễn Đắc Xuân viết: “Những buổi sáng phải ra điện Cần Chính thiết triều, các bà đứng hai hàng bái yết đón chào, vua liền dùng tay ôm gọn hai vạt áo bào sát vào người để khỏi vướng vào đàn bà.”

Suốt 10 năm làm vua, ông đã nuôi Nguyễn Đắc Vọng làm thị vệ, cũng đồng thời là nam sủng nịnh thần thời đấy. Ban đêm, ông lại ôm Vọng mà ngủ. Nhờ sự khéo léo trong việc phục tùng này mà ông Vọng đã được thăng tiến đến Ngũ đẳng thị vệ.

Có câu chuyện cho rằng vào ngày lễ hội tổ chức những buổi vũ múa do hậu cung đảm trách, vua Khải Định nhìn những màn vũ một cách buồn chán. Có lúc ông còn bảo quan hãy dẹp những màn múa ấy và thay thế vào những vũ công nam. Vua Khải Định lấy làm thích thú, còn ra lệnh những vũ công nam cần phải thoa phấn, đánh má hồng, tô môi son, và vui đùa với vua.

Trong Thất điều thư của Phan Chu Trinh kể tội vua, có nói Khải Định là “ăn mặc lố lăng, dở Tây dở ta,” còn “phục sức không đúng phép.” Những tài liệu sử sách chép lại về phong cách ăn mặc, phục sức của Khải Định, cho thấy ông đầu tư rất nhiều cho các thiết kế trang phục của bản thân, quan lại, lính tráng một cách phản truyền thống. Ông Trinh rằng: “Vua chuộng và coi trọng việc trang điểm, phối hợp màu sắc điểm xuyết bằng cách đính các viên ngọc quý, vàng bạc, kim cương trên áo quần, giày, ủng, mũ nón, bao kiếm. Vua chế ra một số y phục long bào vượt qua các mẫu mã quy định truyền thống của các vua chúa thời trước. Ngoài ra, thay vì mang hia, vua đi ủng da láng bóng, có trang trí hoa văn bằng bạc, ngang lưng mang đai cẩn ngọc, mang kiếm Pháp, đeo bao tay trắng, quần Tây trắng, nhưng đầu vẫn bịt khăn đóng và có khi đội nón chóp. Cái nón này lợp bằng lông vũ, bọc lụa vàng, có chóp bằng vàng. Vua cũng có một cái nón chóp khác màu đen.”

Ứng Lăng của Khải Định ở Huế, được xem là lăng tẩm vua chúa cầu kì tốn kém nhất Việt Nam, là do chính ông tự thiết kế khi còn sống. Lăng khảm sành sứ, ngọc, đá từ Nhật Bản, Trung Quốc, và phương Tây. Thế nên khi vào lăng, hoặc khi xem phục trang của Khải Định, có thể phần nào hình dung về con người và tính cách của vua.

Nguyễn Ái Quốc cũng có một loạt bài chế giễu Khải Định, trong đó có truyện ngắn Vi hành và vở kịch Con rồng tre, với nhiều chi tiết xoáy vào thể hiện giới của vua Khải Định.

__________ Tham khảo:

datviet.trithuccuocsong.vn/van-hoa/nguoi-viet/chan-doan-can-benh-bat-luc-cua-vua-khai-dinh-2259639 vi.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khải_Định

__________ Tác giả:

Lương Thế Huy Vietnam Queer History Month

__________ *Vô tính luyến ái (asexuality): sự không bị hấp dẫn tình dục, hoặc không hay ít quan tâm đến các hoạt động tình dục

#LịchSửLGBTViệtNam #VietnamLGBTHistory

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