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ssentimentals · 14 hours ago

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better late than never {jeon wonwoo}

pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

prompt: honestly? justin bieber's 'mistletoe' playing around everywhere i go

warning: none, pure fluff, enjoy my loves!

desperate times call for desperate measures. wonwoo would've been embarrassed by the whole ordeal if only he weren't so deep in his misery that even his friends agreed to go with this plan. the 'plan' is very simple - fill hoshi's apartment with as many as mistletoes as it's only possible without making it look very... obvious.

'it's almost february, it's going to be obvious anyways,' dino supplies unhelpfully. 'even if we put just one, it will catch everyone's attention cause it's a freaking mistletoe and we're way past december.'

'but that's why wonwoo bought the little ones,' mingyu argues and wonwoo could kiss him for being supportive. however, he only wants to kiss you, so he keeps his lips away from the tall giant. 'they are not very visible.'

'and isn't that a problem on its own?' hoshi mutters, holding one mistletoe up in front of his face. 'what's the point of hanging them around if they are not visible?'

wonwoo is going to cry. or combust. or do something equally illogical because they have three hours left before the party and his plan is in ruins so far. he knows you're going to come a bit earlier than everyone else just to help get the space ready for the celebration because you're sweet like that; he can't have you walk in here when they are plenty of unused mistletoes lying around.

'everyone shut up and start hanging these things around,' minghao saves the day with his decisiveness. 'tapes are on the couch. we don't have much time, c'mon. it's either this or bearing wonwoo's lovesickness for much more time and i honestly can't do it anymore.'

wonwoo rolls his eyes. 'i'm not lovesi-'

'you are,' hoshi interrupts, grabbing one tape and throwing another one in mingyu's hands. 'me and minghao will take kitchen and living room, you go do bathroom and bedroom.'

'oooh, we're gonna do bedroom?' mingyu asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 'jumping straight into the action, huh?'

dino sends him a disgusted look and then turns to wonwoo, taking two mistletoes from his hands. 'i'll go add those on the balcony, i think it's the best place for your confession.'

wonwoo swallows loudly, gripping one mistletoe which's left in his hand. because that's what it's all about here, right? for him to confess. when he first came up with this silly idea about mistletoes, it was just a joke. they were all a bit drunk, sitting in hoshi's kitchen, when wonwoo muttered that he needs a little push, some sparkle of magic to confess to you, to kiss you. and to his own surprise, his drunk mind came up with a wonderful idea - what is a better incentive to kiss than a mistletoe? fast forward one week he's here in hoshi's apartment, making sure that there is pretty much no place uncovered with the mistletoe and all he needs to do is to jsut get you alone and point on the mistletoe. in his dreams you understand what he means and kiss him. in case you will not get it, he's going to suck his fears up and confess. being honest, wonwoo dreads this scenario but he is prepared nonetheless - little note with words that are on the tip of his tongue all the time.

'done!' guys announce one by one. minghao grabs dino and goes to his car to take all the drinks, while mingyu comes over to him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders. 'it's such a cool idea, honestly. i think she will love it.'

'i agree,' hoshi comes closer, smiling. 'it's really cute. just don't fuck it up and like, not confess.'

wonwoo cringes. 'i'll try.'

mingyu laughs, slapping his back so strongly that wonwoo almost falls forward. 'you'll be fine, woo. anyone with eyes can see that you're into her and i'm 100% that she knows it too.'

'i think she likes you too,' hoshi says, always there to lift wonwoo's spirits. 'i mean, she willingly listens to you go on about your nerdy stuff, so. if that doesn't mean she likes you then i don't know what is.'

wonwoo is not sure whether to be thankful for his friends or go strangle them all. he opts for the first option and simply goes to help prepare everything else for the party, busying his mind with other things. it doesn't really work, his mind always comes back to you either way; wonwoo thinks it's kind of embarrassing, actually. it's like you're always on the background and you pop up in his head whenever he does anything random: cleaning the house? he remembers how you said you stress-clean sometimes. going out with friends? he snaps a picture of a pretty interior to send to you cause he knows you'll like it. eating something? if it's good he makes a mental noise of buying it to you so you can try it as well. your invisible presence in his life is so huge, he sometimes wonders whether you can feel that he's thinking about you. if you do then how does it feel for you? do you get a pang in the heart every time you see him too? do you also get nervous when he hovers nearby? do your fingers tremble a little from the desire to reach out, to touch, to caress lovingly? wonwoo is so out of this that it takes hoshi smacking him in the head with 'she is here, idiot!' to wake up.

'hi guys!' you sweetly wave to everyone and easily accept one-sided hug from mingyu before noticing him. wonwoo's heart skips a beat at the way your eyes twinkle at the sight of him. 'woo! hi!'

'hi,' he lets out a bit too breathless for his own liking. he steps closer and opens his arms, welcoming you warmly and holding you a little too tight. 'you're okay? do you want anything? water, maybe? or are you hungry? we have-'

'we don't have anything, pizza will arrive only in an hour!' dino shouts.

you giggle, effectively taking wonwoo's focus from killing dino to your cutest self. 'that's fine, i'm not hungry. is there anything i can help with?'

wonwoo sometimes fears for his heart. you're too sweet, too cute, too good - how is he supposed to hold all his feelings for you inside when you're like that? 'not really, but hoshi bought new stuff, let me show you.'

you follow him eagerly and doesn't even blink when he steps very close to you. wonwoo hopes that this is a sign of you being comfortable with him, you wanting him in your space. he asks how your day's been and while he's listening attentively, he mostly watches your reactions, needing to see if you notice mistletoes or not. there are four of them in the living room with one of them being literally taped to the tv (god, who thought it was a good idea?!) and your eyes sweep past them with no care. 'everything is so cool!' you comment on new action figures hoshi bought. 'very hoshi style.'

wonwoo nods. he's getting nervous, knowing that soon people will start coming up and they will take you from him because everyone wants a piece of you and he will lose you to the ocean of people and-

'do you want to go to the balcony?' he asks suddenly.

you blink. 'um- sure? yeah, okay, let's go.'

you pass the bathroom with a very obviously hang up mistletoe and you don't even bat an eyelash, which crushes wonwoo's hopes. you don't notice them. he should confess on his own. cradling note in the back pocket of his jeans, he opens the door for you and takes a subtle big breath before following you. he can do it. he's an adult, for god's sake. if he manages to pull all-nighters for weeks during midterms and come out alive then surely one confession will not kill him, right?

'woo?' you call, frowning. 'is everything okay? you look kinda-' you pause as your gaze shifts to somewhere above wonwoo's head. 'is- my god, is that a mistletoe?'

wonwoo holds his breath. 'yeah,' he croaks out, frozen.

you step closer and come up on your tiptoes, wanting to touch it. 'did hoshi forget to take it off? it's way past christmas.'

you make a move to presumably take it off, but wonwoo catches your wrist and slowly wraps his another hand around your waist. his heart is beating so loud he fears entire city can hear it; you simply blush at the proximity. 'wait,' wonwoo asks, clearing his throat. 'don't take it off yet.'

'okay...' you mutter, lowering your hand.

your beautiful eyes stare into his and it's really not fair; how can he remember the words from his note when you're looking at him like that? 'um.'

'did you want to discuss something?' you ask, somehow not commenting on his hand on your waist. 'you brought me here, so.. i thought you wanted to say something.'

dying would've probably been easier than this, wonwoo swears. he swallows, his fingers flex on your waist. 'we should kiss,' he ends up blurting out because head to mouth filter refuses to work. your eyes widen and you make an attempt to step back, but he doesn't let you, holding you securely in his arms. he lifts his head up: 'mistletoe, you know. it's a- tradition. yes, tradition.'

you look confused at first and wonwoo braces himself for a fall. you're going to slap his face and walk away, you're going to call him different names and-

'only because of the mistletoe?' wonwoo blinks at you, shocked. you clarify: 'we need to kiss only because of the mistletoe?'

he shakes his head. your expression softens and with care, you wrap your hands around his shoulders. 'why else then?' you ask quietly.

your eyes are so pretty. you are so pretty and you are so close, wonwoo is losing his mind. 'because i like you,' he confesses in a quiet whisper meant only for you. 'because i wanted to kiss you for a very, very long time.'

you don't slap his face. you don't walk away. you don't call him different names - instead you move just a tad bit closer but it's enough for the hope inside wonwoo's heart to flare up. 'how long?' you ask, searching for something in his face.

wonwoo hopes you can find adoration there, because that's what he feels. 'for so long that it's embarrassing how i confessed only now.'

your giggle is his favorite sound on earth. you lean closer, brushing your noses together. 'better late than never,' you mutter, trembling a little in his hold. 'right?'

wonwoo nods. tightens his arms around you. 'right,' he whispers before finally closing the distance and kissing you.

a/n: missed writing longer stuff, god! hopefully it's not awkward, i did write only small prompts in last few months and got kinda used to them :/ let me know if you liked it or not! <3 - nini

my other seventeen works are HERE

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iamnmbr3 · 2 days ago

Note

Harry: i despise malfoy so much. He's my nemesis (voldemort who?)

also harry: my nemesis's wand feels friendly in my hand, almost works as good as mine–WAND!! The most personal magical stuff ever that is soooo connected with you!!

can you imagine that happening with bellatrix's or lucius's or even voldemort's for harry before even knowing whose wand this is(it wasn't the same even with hermione's!!)

I mean, are you sure you're enemies?😭😭

no one ships drarry as hard as the hawthorn wand. remember when ollivander says this?

i mean. can you get anymore drarry than that? and then we learn that draco's wand works better for harry than any other wand. i mean look at this.

Harry has issues with the blackthorn wand. but he never has similar issues with hermione's wand. even though he didn't win it from her. because they love each other and she wanted him to have her wand and also because they are compatible people. but draco's wand works AT LEAST AS WELL as Hermione's had done...aka better even then the wand of a very close friend who is compatible with him. all this despite the fact that he didn't win it in a duel. he took it out of draco's hand and draco let him. and it works the way it does because deep in his soul draco wanted him to have that wand and because he and draco are deeply compatible. the wand wants to keep him safe because it loves him just like it's owner does. and it's able to do that because even though it is a very difficult to master wand Harry immediately understands it and it understands him. because Harry and Draco are soulmates. in canon.

jkr may not ship drarry but the wands sure do.

#asks #drarry #wandlore #Harry Potter #hpdm #dmhp #harco #h/d

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marinettesaltprompts · 1 day ago

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The Perfect Partner (Part 3)

Prompt by @ironicreality

The expressions on Ladybug and Ryuko’s faces was worth every second he’d spent in the all-too-tight suit.

“Cat!?” Ladybug stumbled on her landing as she stared at the struggling butterfly he kept tightly trapped in one hand. “You got the Akuma- *already*?”

‘Without me!?’ went unsaid, but Cat Walker could practically feel Ladybug’s sense of reality breaking down.

“I found an opening.” Rubbing it in would be pointlessly petty and they were there to do a job, not play for points; “ready when you are.”

He held out his hand and Ladybug recovered enough to call for a Lucky Charm- an umbrella of all things- and promptly ready her yo-yo. One purification and a Miraculous Cure later, and there was no sign that Stormy Weather had ever been a threat.

“You dealt with that threat quickly,” Ryuko spoke first.

“She let her guard down,” Cat Walker calmly walked over to his dropped baton and snapped it into its compact form.

“The Akuma can multiply,” Ladybug finally regained her senses, and blurted out her critique;“If it’s left too long on its own, the Akuma can make hundreds- *thousands* of copies of itself.” Ladybug told him. “You *shouldn’t* have broken the Akumatized object before I was here.”

Well that *would* explain why no one else on her team ever tried to break the Akumatised object without her. Though from the curious look Ryuko let slip towards her leader it was news to her too.

Either way, there was nothing to be gained from point scoring;

“I understand, my apologies Ladybug.” Cat Walker calmly conceded. “I was only trying to prevent further chaos-.”

“That’s why you were here!” Ladybug sharply insisted. “To *distract* Stormy Weather until we arrived so she wouldn’t harm civilians!”

The former Akuma victim herself was still there, and turned red with embarrassment.

Ladybug instantly went pale and apologetic as she swiftly turned to the victim;

“Oh- ah, not that it’s your fault or anything!” She assured her with a wide smile. She swiftly stepped closer to Cat Walker, “I’m just grilling the team rookie on a few pointers!”

She turned to him with a far less cheerful expression. “*And there’s a lot to go over*.”

Cat Walker felt a flash of annoyance, but pushed it aside. He had places to be anyway and again; there was nothing to be gained from a petty public spat with Ladybug. “I agree, but with the attack over it might be best to table that for later. It’s the middle of the day and I’m sure we all have lives to return to.”

Ryuko was staring at him with some surprise like she expected some protest. Ladybug’s eyes narrowed for a moment before she turned on her heel to put her back to him;

“Sorry for calling you out Ryuko. We’ll talk more later.”

“That’s okay Ladybug, I’m always ready to help when I can.” Ryuko nodded to Ladybug and jumped away. Within seconds she had vanished over the Paris skyline, and with a cold look to prompt him Cat Walker quickly made his own way back to his home.

Ladybug of course was quick behind him and landed in his room just seconds after him.

“Okay let’s get something straight.” Ladybug put her hands on her hips. “Handling the Akumas is *my* job, not anyone else’s. All *you* needed to do was keep Stormy Weather busy for a bit- was that too much to ask for?”

Cat Walker bit back a sharp response and composed himself with arms held behind his back. “I was not aware of the Akuma multiplication, and was a novice fighting alone against what I understand is a *very* dangerous Akuma victim. I apologise for taking matters into my own hands, but there was a genuine risk that I would be neutralised before you returned and this Miraculous would have been lost-”

“You don’t need to worry about that anymore.” Ladybug pointedly held out her hand.

Cat Walker gladly pulled the ring from his finger- and Adrien let loose a gasp of relief as the suit peeled away in magic light.

Again there was that little black cat-thing for a second, but Ladybug practically snatched the ring out of his hand and snapped the box closed before it could say anything. Immediately she turned and zipped out the room without another word.

“… Whatever,” Adrien rolled his eyes, then stumbled as his shoes slipped. “Hey- oh *real mature*.”

Mysteriously enough, the water she’d tracked in from before had remained despite the Miraculous Cure.

Oh well. If nothing else good happened that day; Adrien was pretty sure that it would be the last time Ladybug pulled him into playing bait.

—

It happened again, this time after one of Adrien’s fencing classes.

Her was kind of bored really. Kagami had had to go with her Mom to a trip home in Japan, so he was stuck with opponents who couldn’t really stand a hope against him. He was pretty sure it was arrogant to think so, but Adrien’s many medals kind of proved that he was in another league compared to anyone in his school (most of the country in fact, if his records were true).

Whatever else he could say about Gabriel Agreste, the man had raised him to be damn good at sports (or at least paid other people to do so).

Anyway when the Akuma alert rang out, he wasn’t that bothered. That changed a bit when he was marching to the shelter with the other students though, as the others kept babbling about the heroes and Shadowmoth’s minions like it was a spectator sport;

“… Nekomata’s not been out much lately even though Butterfly man’s really been at it.”

“Think she quit?”

“Maybe, but wasn’t Ladybug already using a bunch of different cats? Could be it’s just not her turn or something.”

“Yeah but Neko’s the best of them by far…”

Adrien resisted the urge to groan. It didn’t pay to let people know you weren’t in on the whole ‘Ladybug craze’. But he couldn’t help but absorb information by osmosis anyway.

Nekomata was the name of the most capable Cat Hero since Chat Noir had retired. But she wasn’t seen that often, instead Ladybug had a bunch of others who she switched in and out with the ring on the regular.

There were theories that she was using her other heroes to hold the ring, since certain cat heroes and other regular heroes were never seen in the same battle-

“… What about that other one, the guy with a ponytail?”

“Yeah I heard he was pretty good. Kicked Stormy Weather’s butt all on his own-”

“Yeah but apparently he screwed up so-”

Whatever his fellow fencers might have thought about Adrien’s alter-ego was lost to time as a high pitched squeal ripped through the building;

“Oh Adrien~~” the squeak turned into a sing-song parody of an alluring voice. “I know you’re in here~~.”

Adrien felt the collective turn their ire against him like he’d called the Akuma to their very school, and he knew in his bones if he didn’t leave of his own volition he’d be thrown to the Akuma as tribute.

“Hunh, fangirl Akuma from the sounds of it,” Adrien chuckled with barely hidden nerves, “I should probably leave before they come here looking-”

“THANKSADRIENYOU’REABRAVEMAN!” There was a garble of shouting voices as they ‘gently’ pushed him out of the designated shelter room and locked the door behind them.

“… You could have at least pretended to object,” Adrien sighed.

Still though, he *did* need to get moving if he didn’t want the Akuma to find him and turn him into a living bodypillow or something even worse.

(Out of curiosity he’d once taken a look at some of the mail his fans sent in before his father’s assistant curated it. *Never again*.)

Fortunately for him, this Akuma was relatively easy to evade once he managed a stealthy look at it. Deranged super-powered cosplayer of some sort from her appearance. And unlike Stormy Weather, her feet were firmly planted on the ground as she marched towards the school entrance.

The solution to escaping (literally) unmolested was a simple one then; when Adrien had first come home he’d found one of his room walls covered with a climbing wall that to his surprise he’d been able to scale with inhuman agility from muscle memory alone. And now in the present that muscle-memory served him well as he slipped away from the school, turned the corner and easily scaled one of the buildings nearby.

The handholds were few and far between, but his body handled them with an ease that still surprised him, and within a minute he was resting on a rooftop facing away from the school: safe from any empowered fangirls who might have designs on him.

For five minutes.

Adrien had closed his eyes and leaned back against the roof tiles to try and get some rest (not easy against said roof-tiles and the screaming coming from his school but what else could he do?) when an annoying familiar *zip* caught his attention. He opened his eyelids to find Ladybug suddenly standing above him on the apex point of the roof, well and truly visible for anyone to see.

Adrien stared at her as she stared down at him.

There was another scream from the school as the Akuma probably did something awful.

Ladybug kept staring at him.

Adrien decided to be a good boy and help the hero so she would leave sooner; “the Akuma’s in the school.” He jammed a thumb over his shoulder.

“Yeah, *I know*.”Ladybug apparently wasn’t deaf, because she responded. There was an amused look in her eyes. “She really wants Adrien Agretse-”

“So I’ve heard,” Adrien cut her off with a shudder. “Why do you think I’m hiding here where she can’t get at me?”

“LADYBUG!” The Akuma’s screeched suddenly confirmed that she’d spotted the hero standing in bright red and black polka-dots against the Paris skyline. “GIVE ME YOUR MIRACULOUS SO I CAN KEEP ADRIEN SAFE!”

“You should get going before she comes here.” Adrien politely but pointedly motioned for her to leave.

A nasty smirk appeared on the heroine’s face though and Ladybug folded her arms and rested back on her heels. Clearly not intending to move even as the Akuma’s voice started getting closer.

“*Now* would be good.” Adrien helpfully pointed out.

“Sorry Adrien,” Ladybug ‘sighed’. “This Akuma’s a tricky one. Any time we get close she mind-controls us into Adrien fanatics We need someone to distract her, to keep her *occupied*-”

“Adrein~~~!” The Akuma was very, very close now. “I can *smell you*~~~”

“-Sorry, but we’re going to need you to keep her attention for a bit.” Ladybug suddenly grabbed Adrien’s collar and lifted him supernatural strength, clearly about to show him to the Akuma. “Just for a minute or two-”

“H-hey!” Adrien slipped himself out of his white coat sleeves and scrambled back on the roof, “why don’t you just use another heroes like usual- whoever’s using the cat ring-”

“Nekomata’s out of town and everyone else is occupied.” Ladybug casually tossed his coat over the edge of the roof, and a delighted squeal confirmed that the Akuma had caught it.

“T-then-” Adrien grit his teeth and whispered. “I’ll do it- just give me the ring and I’ll keep her occupied as Cat Walker.”

“Hmm…” Ladybug exaggerated a thinking pose and tapped her chin, “and why should I let you even touch the ring after last time?”

“Because you need *someone* on the Cat and you know I’m ‘good with the ring’, *remember*?” Adrien insisted.

Ladybug probably would have drawn things out more for whatever gratification she was getting (what, did she really hate blond models or something? Clearly she had an issue with him), but the Akuma was getting closer. And luckily for Adrien Ladybug deigned to allow him to defend himself.

“Alright Cat Walker,” she opened up her yo-yo; “just follow my orders this time okay?”

—

The fanatic Akuma was surprisingly strong, but not necessarily a complicated opponent to fight. All it took was another of Ladybug’s strange plans and a few bruises to Cat Walker’s torso and the embarrassed fangirl was purified.

Unfortunately for Adrien, that wasn’t where it ended.

Sure, Ladybug reclaimed the ring as usual; but Shadowmoth was apparently on a spree. Within an hour there was another Akuma rampaging through the streets, and Ladybug showed found Adrien to practically shove the ring on his finger, clearly under the impression that he owed her for not letting using him as bait for the previous Akuma.

And once that Akuma was done and dusted- the same thing happened. Ring off, Ladybug went away- two hours pass and whoops! There’s another Akuma and Ladybug demands Adrien go play punchingbag for the next Magical Malcontent.

And again.

And *again*.

And every day for a full week, Adrien’s life was consumed by a part-time volunteer position under Ladybug. Shadowmoth had obviously noticed Nekomata’s absence and was trying to take advantage

Apparently after Nekomata, Cat Walker *was* Ladybug’s best cat. But Adrien wasn’t entirely certain she wasn’t just leaving him to risk death and dismemberment for her own petty amusement. Because surely Ladybug’s team had more strategies to occupying the Akuma than ‘leave the cat hero to play for time’; but if they did they weren’t letting him on them.

And for all that Adrien chafed at the role, the remembrance of how Ladybug had very nearly used him as live bait quietened his complaints. He’d been critical of Ladybug’s approach long before he used the ring but he’d known that the crowds at school, the whole of Paris even, unconditionally supported the hero and her team. So he’d long since learned to keep his tongue to himself, even when she ruthlessly engaged in collateral damage that surely had to have involved casualties (even if they were later restored).

But there was a different side to Ladybug, at least for him. Because even if she had a use for him, a *need* for him with Nekomata absent; Ladybug *hated* him for some reason.

Not just in some abstract way like his haters on the internet hated the model boy from the magazines, but something deep and personal. He could feel it when she looked at him, how she talked at him. And he was certain that she wasn’t bluffing when she’d offered to throw him to the Akuma and whatever it might do to him.

So upsetting her by turning down the ring when she wanted to use him was a danger that he knew better than to entertain. So Cat Walker accepted his role as it came, and devoted himself to it with all the professional focus of a man who wanted his job to be done as quickly and efficiently as possible.

And it wasn’t all bad, there was a certain satisfaction in a job well done. In keeping Paris safe and successfully defeating one opponent after another. In the end it wasn’t that different from his martial arts, sports and lessons; there were rules to fighting the varied and strange Akuma, patterns to follow and his body seemed to know by instinct what moves to make. The ring was surely helping him, but there was still that thrill of mastering a new, difficult skill or technique that he usually got from reaching a new level with his other studies.

But the novelty of achieving acrobatics and combinations that no human body (even his that was somehow durable enough to take a fall from his room ceiling with little more than a winding) wasn’t quite enough to offset the drawbacks of being Ladybug’s temporary cat;

—

Ladybug’s plans were *insane*. Just utterly insane.

Somehow they always worked, Adrien couldn’t deny that. But more often than not they worked in *spite* of all logic and reason. And that wasn’t just a gripe of a put-upon minion;

There had to be magic at work, because even outside of the charms themselves, there were times when they used mundane objects as part of said plans and they started acting against conventional physics.

One plan had them fight a massive, Ape-like Akuma by restraining them with a fire-hose Lucky Charm. But they’d fastened the rope around a few matching steel poles;

—

“Ladybug!” Cat Walker sharply warned through the earpiece as he dodged yet another strike from the Akuma, letting a pair of medium-sized mice heroines swiftly encircle the wrist of said Akuma with the long hose. “Those poles won’t hold them!”

“Just do your job Cat.” Ladybug retorted through the earpiece.

“I-”

There was a beep as Ladybug cut him off from the main comms.

All he could do was exactly that, draw the Ape-Akuma’s attention while the rest of the team slowly but surely entangle the Ape’s limbs with the hose. The problem was that in while the Lucky Charm seemed to have some magical property that made it unbreakable even with the Akuma’s strength, the flagpoles they were anchoring the hose to were surely going to be torn out the second the rope went taut.

After all, the strength to break stone slabs with ease wasn’t just going to be held back with whatever cheap steel went into making a flagpole.

And yet…

When the time came and Ladybug called out; “PULL!”

The Ape was entrapped in a tight trap, and the flagpoles didn’t so much as *bend* despite the combined tension from multiple heroes and the Ape’s own strength against them. The Wasp hero- Vesperia- dropped in a second later and the battle was over.

(Why hadn’t they just used Vesperia from the start?)

—

A day later, and there was another plan, this time more risky than irrational.

This time it was some kind of bug person who was invulnerable from any point but the top of their head. Again, Cat Walker was on distraction duty while Ladybug pulled together another plan.

This time the Lucky Charm was a drone. A fully functioning drone that Ladybug insisted on flying up on over the Akuma so she could drop down from it while someone else he couldn’t see operated it.

Considering how fast the humanoid bug-thing was, it didn’t seem like a good idea.

Again it seemed like an obvious solution to just have Vesperia paralyze the Akuma, or maybe he could have made a pit to trap the Akuma with the Cataclysm power.

But again, through pure Luck and a well timed verbal barb to get the thing’s attention: it somehow worked out.

—

Finally there was the quiz Akuma, the with the game-based powers that Ladybug decided they would play against.

The victim was a teacher from Dupont, apparently one who was very, *very* done with her students cheating on their tests. She’d turned one of the classes into some facsimile of a gameshow with her students becoming a literal captive audience and was broadcasting it to the whole of Paris.

The Akumatized object was one of the prizes and they have to put up their own Miraculous as collateral to play. Cat Walker didn’t care for game shows in the first place and suggested a direct approach;

“The Akuma appears to have no real combat ability,” Cat Walker observed, “if Vesperia-”

“We’ve gone over this, Vesperia has *one* shot with her power- just like everyone else so we need to make it count!” Ladybug snapped back, “and Akumas like this usually have some trick to stop us from just marching and taking their object!”

Cat Walker stepped back to avoid agitating the clearly irritated heroine. He couldn’t say Ladybug was *wrong*; at this point he was well aware Vesperia’s sting was only effective if the Akuma was too distracted or occupied to dodge her obvious lunges (though really if he were ever asked he’d have to say that it was a *problem* that Vesperia needed so much significant setup from the rest of the team to use her power at all- maybe her Miraculous would have been better suited to someone with better agility and hand-to-hand combat prowess). And he was a novice at Akuma battles so he couldn’t dispute her instincts about the more abstract Akumas.

However…

“I understand Ladybug,” he assured her. “But what is stopping the Akuma from rigging their own game? Is there some rule that the Akuma’s power have to be *fair*?”

“Heh, no.” Ladybug actually laughed at that, then turned to him with a smirk; “but who says *we* have to play fair either?”

Cat Walker raised an eyebrow, “Ladybug?”

“Just put your earpiece in and listen to Viperion,” Ladybug stepped back and pushed Cat Walker towards the classroom.

Viperion as it turned out, was a snake hero and he was with someone who went by ‘Pegasus’ (no prizes to guess his animal theme) who was himself using a laptop. And they were going to help Cat Walker *cheat*.

“Ahh, our first contestant!” The Akuma smiled in her gaudy pinstriped suit. “The Black Cat du jour, such a shame for such a stunning career to be cut so short, but it would be a crime not to see that handsome face on TV!

Just remember, no backing out and no tricks or it’s game over~~” The Presenter turned to her audience, “but don’t worry, you’ll have one of the best seats in town!”

A spotlight magically appeared over an unoccupied seat, in the middle of a sea of very occupied seats holding visibly disturbed and helpless teenagers.

Well, at least Adrien would have company if Ladybug’s plan fell though.

—

The game had four rounds for increasingly more valuable prizes, and by increasingly valuable that meant wonderful things like hall passes, study guides, an honor roll and the actual Akumatized object (an answer sheet). Of course to play, Cat Walker had to be willing to wager his Miraculous every time, and while he didn’t have to take it off he was quite certain that the Akuma’s own magic would claim it if he failed anyway.

Fortunately, the format was easy. Just answer a question correctly, and Cat Walker would advance to the next round. Fail, and Cat Walker instantly lost, no surprises there.

Still, even though the first two questions were easy enough (just obscure trivia tangentially related to Dupont’ curriculum) before Viperion and Pegasus gave him the answers.

Round three is when things became difficult;

“Stop, Cat Walker!” Viperion’s voice was suddenly sharp in his ear- a distinct shift from his easy-going tone a moment ago; “Presenter is going to check you for cheating in a few seconds, you need to get rid of the earpiece!”

Cat Walker’s eyes widened, but recovered as Viperion continued; “I just turned back time, she’ll confiscate your Miraculous in front of Paris!”

“Turn back ti-” Cat Walker caught himself as his gasp caught The Presenter’s attention.

“Turn back *what* Mr Walker?” The Presenter’s eyes focused on him like hawk, “is there something you want to share with the rest of us?”

The Akuma was rapidly approaching, and Cat Walker had no good options-

If the Akuma could take the ring from cheating then fighting would surely count, dropping the earpiece would be too noticeable, he needed a distraction- no, he had to *make* a distraction!

“Oh don’t mind me,” he chuckled, “I was just thinking that I should have turned back home for an umbrella, the weather’s about to make a downpour, it’s a good thing that…”

He pulled his baton from his back and the Akuma’s eyes locked on it, he a pressed a button and…

The tip extended about half a metre into the air to their side.

“Oh…” Cat Walker mumbled.

“Was that supposed to do something?” The Presenter seemed amused.

“I was hoping it would turn into an umbrella,” Cat Walker sighed, and brushed his hand over his ear like he was pushing back a stray hair. “I heard it could do that kind of thing.”

He pressed the same button, and the baton briefly extended again. “Ah, excuse me for a moment,” he brought both hands to the controls and seemed to struggle to compact his own weapon.

“Well it would be bad luck anyway!” The Presented rolled her eyes at his obvious ineptitude. With her attention diverted, Cat Walker nimbly slid the earpiece into baton’s compartment and snapped it closed before replacing it to his back.

Needless to say, The Presenter’s cheat-check a moment later failed to disqualify him.

Round Three was fortunately easy again, at least for him. Just English, and that was one of Adrien’s first languages (at least according to Gabriel Agreste).

Round Four was when things very nearly went awry.

“Alright Mr Walker, you’re clearly a very smart boy,” the Akuma purred and her eyes brightened; “so why don’t you come up and show us how it’s done!”

She stepped aside and whiteboard appeared where she’d been a moment ago, she held out a marker with clear glee.

The Whiteboard showed a deceptively simple equation:

xn+yn=zn

Cat Walker sighed to himself. He’d been correct, the Akuma had no intention of playing fair.

“What’s the matter Mr Walker?” The Present chortled. “It’s just *maths*!”

“I would hardly call Fermat’s Last Theorem ‘just maths’ dear lady.” Cat Walker approached.

“Oh, you *know* what this is?” The Presenter’s eyes gleamed as she held out the marker, “don’t worry I’m *sure* you can solve…”

Her words trailed off as Cat Walker gently took the marker from her hand, and too her absolute shock he started writing letters on the board;

“What are you…?” Her eyes followed the diagram as he drew out a diagram.

“Apologies, but unless you have a larger whiteboard you’ll have to accept this” Cat Walker had no intention of simply giving up, but he’d couldn’t exactly recall a hundred page document of advanced mathematics from memory. “Wiles and Taylor’s proof is a bit wordy.”

It was all presentation. The proof had been but one of Adrien Agreste’s electric collection of interesting documents that his amnesiac self had found (apparently he’d liked obscure trivia), but even with his more than decent mathematical skills he wouldn’t be able crack such a proof without a lifetime of prep. But what he was, was in close range of the Akuma and her prize, and lacking any better options he was certain he could at least try to Cataclysm the gleaming cage just behind her and destroy the answer sheet before she claimed the ring.

But that wasn’t necessary, as the Akuma’s eyes widened; “it… it’s been solved?”

Her voice was weak.

“Yes, quite famously so.” Cat Walker assured her. “You can check me if you like.”

The Presenter closed her eyes, and Cat Walker prepared to pounce, but he was startled as the answer sheet vanished with a glow and appeared in his hands.

“Well, that’s game and match then,” The Presenter chuckled and a wave of dark bubbles washed over her as a butterfly escaped from the sheet.

—

Ladybug’s plans worked.

Somehow.

Somehow they *always* worked. Even when they were needlessly risky, implausible, or just impractical.

Even when they *shouldn’t.*

Just how much of Paris’ safety was dependent on Ladybug’s good luck carrying them?

What would happen if that luck ran out?

#Marinette salt #Adrien sugar #submission

30 notes · View notes

ficsbyuzi · 3 days ago

Text

ALL THE WAYS LEAD TO YOU

PART-12

Characters - Aemond Targaryen and Inara Maegyr (OFC) in a modern AU.

MASTERLIST

word count - 5990

Warnings - +18, sexual tension, kissing, angst, swoon worthy, fluff,

A/N: Reposting because it got deleted by mistake 🥲

Flashbacks and internal dialogues are in italics

18 years ago

“Daddy, Granny, can I hold Nina now?”

Inara’s small voice broke through the muted chaos of the hospital, drawing her father’s attention as he returned to the waiting lobby after a quiet exchange with the staff. The place buzzed with activity—nurses in scrubs hurried past, wheelchairs rolled across the tiled floors.

Her curious, fire-colored eyes were fixed on the infant cradled in her grandmother’s arms. Her two-month-old sister stirred, her tiny fingers curling against her grandmother’s cardigan. Inara’s father glanced down at her with both exhaustion and tenderness, as he took the baby in his arms from his mother-in-law, and seated himself on the chair beside Inara’s.

“Not now, honey. When we get back home, you can hold her for as long as you want, okay?” He assured her, and shifted his focus to feeding formula to the baby.

Inara's gaze wandered to the television screen on the reception, its bright screen flashing images of a news broadcast that paused intermittently during announcements that her little mind couldn’t understand. Restlessness had begun to creep in.

“Dad,” she whispered, looking up at him, “When will Mumma be back?”

“She’ll be back soon, darling,” he replied, as if trying to convince himself as much as her.

“And then we will go home?” Inara's gaze dropped to the bundle in her father’s arms again.

“Yes, we will.”

Hours had passed since they had been sitting there, waiting for news from the surgical wing. Driftmark was a long way from their home in Volantis, but Inara’s mother had needed the specialist surgeons there for her rare condition, which worsened after the birth of her sister.

“Daddy, when I grow up, I’m going to be a doctor,” she declared with an innocent determination. “Then you and Mumma will never have to come to a hospital.”

Chuckling softly, her father leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, love,” he said, his voice thick with affection. Then, he pointed to his backpack.

“Open that. I got something for you.”

Inara obeyed, pulling out a book with a vivid, glossy cover. A picture of a massive, bronze dragon spanned its cover, back and front.

“Dance of the dragons,” she read aloud, her small fingers tracing the title on the cover. Her eyes lit up with wonder and she enquired, “Daddy, are there dragons in the world?”

“Not anymore, sweetheart,” he said, smiling softly. “But hundreds of years ago, dragons lived in the world and magical people rode them. There were dragons, right here in Driftmark, too.”

Her eyes widened in awe. “Wow,” she breathed, looking around as though expecting one to appear at any moment.

Her father chuckled again at her reaction, looping his arm around her tiny shoulders and drawing her closer as she started turning the pages of her new book with utmost focus.

“This hospital we’re sitting in? It was once a castle and belonged to the ruling lords here.”

She only nodded at his words, already lost in the dragon-filled pages of her new book.

“Are you hungry, love? Do you want to munch on something with your new book?” he asked, caressing her hair. She nodded again, her attention still fixed on the illustrations.

“Here, take this,” he said, pressing a few pennies into her little palm. “Get whatever you wish from the vending machine over there,” he added, pointing across the hall.

Clutching her book, little Inara ambled toward the vending machine. But midway, a sharp, enraged voice froze her in her tracks.

“Where were you? Where were you when the fight broke?” A woman, impeccably dressed in a green sweater and matching trousers, cried out in anguish, startling everyone in the vicinity.

Inara turned toward the source and saw a teenaged, silver-haired boy being yanked by the collar of his T-shirt.

“Me?” the boy stammered. His confusion was only met with a stinging slap across his face.

“Ow! What was that for?” the boy yelped, his hand flying to his cheek in shock.

“This is nothing compared to the pain your brother is going to suffer for the rest of his life!”

The commotion drew the attention of everyone nearby. Conversations stopped, and the air buzzed with unease.

Inara, clutching her book tightly, stood still, nervously observing the scene and forgetting about her candy.

“Ma’am, this is a hospital. Please keep it down,” a staff member intervened.

“Alicent, calm down,” came the voice of an older man with the same striking silver hair. “This is not a place for an outburst.”

“Our child has been maimed by your daughter’s son, and you’re asking me to calm down?” the woman sobbed harder, pointing randomly at the hospital staff, “They’re saying he’ll never see out of one eye again!”

“It was an accident, Alicent,” the older man said, his tone tinged with resignation, but it only fueled the woman’s frustration.

“I’m taking my son to Oldtown,” she declared, sniffing, “Citadel has the best neurosurgeons. Father has arranged everything.” She wiped her tears but her voice still broke.

“Sir, Ma’am, he’s here,” a brown-eyed man hurried into view, addressing the older man and his shaken up wife.

All eyes turned to see a boy, no older than ten, being wheeled into the lobby by hospital staff. A bandage was tied around his head, covering one of his eyes. His mother and the older silver-haired boy rushed to his side.

“Inara!”

Her father’s voice snapped her out of the scene unfolding before her. He began approaching his daughter with quick strides, his face creased with concern.

Spotting her father, Inara ran toward him, her small legs moving fast. But in her haste, the book slipped from her hands, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

She turned to retrieve it, but before she could, the injured boy stood from his wheelchair, his movements slow and strained.

“My darling, don’t get up. We’re about to leave,” His mother protested in concern.

“I’m fine,” the boy replied in a steady voice, despite the discomfort visible in his features. He bent down and picked up the book.

He glanced at the book’s cover for a moment, his features briefly lighting with interest before his brows knitted together as if the effort of reading from one eye caused him pain. A grimace crossed his face before he silently extended the book back to her.

Inara’s father was by her side now, holding her hand protectively. “Come, darling. I’ll get you your candy,” he said softly, as she took the book from the boy.

But Inara didn’t move. Her gaze lingered on the boy, drawn by something her young heart couldn’t quite name. Before she could second-guess herself, she held the book out to him.

“Keep it, please,” she insisted, “I’m sorry you got hurt, I hope you get well soon.” she added in a sincere, innocent voice.

The boy hesitated, his good eye flickering from her to the book. He took it without a word.

Her father beamed at his little girl’s heartfelt gesture, his pride shining in his eyes. Alicent, too moved to find her voice, offered a warm smile to both the children and Inara’s father. With a subtle nod, she signaled to the nurse to take her son to the cars waiting outside.

“Come dear, you shouldn’t exert yourself like this,” a nurse gently chided, taking the boy’s hand and guiding him back to the wheelchair.

As the nurse wheeled him away, Inara’s father tightened his grip on her hand and led her in the opposite direction. She glanced over her shoulder one last time, watching the boy disappear out of the hospital gates, the dragon-covered book resting in his lap.

Inara’s eyes fluttered open to the scratchy call of a seagull flying by.

For a brief moment, her mind was a calm, untroubled pond, an unperturbed haze hanging over it.

Then, cruel clarity came crashing through, rippling those calm waters and cutting through the haze.

She stayed on the floor, curled up in her defeat. Her eyes stayed fixed on the couch - a few steps away - where they had sat together only hours ago.

The glass he had sipped water from still rested on the table, the cushions still crumpled, the seat wrinkled at the spot where he sat - close, so achingly close to her.

Close enough to give her everything she had longed for.

Close enough to make her his, to complete her in a way that felt both inevitable and terrifying.

And she hadn’t let him.

The weight of the memory crushed her chest, and tears threatened to spill, but she fought them.

She had made her choice. A choice that would keep her life simple, uncomplicated.

A simple life. That’s what she had told him she wanted.

"I will put the whole world at your feet, Inara."

She closed her eyes tightly, willing the memory of last night to dissolve, as if shutting them would block the image of him from her mind too - the sadness etched into his features, the heartbreak clouding his gaze, the disappointment that had flickered across his face when she turned him down.

She forced herself to her feet, her legs unsteady as she made her way to the bedroom. She desperately needed sleep, though she knew it would not come easily. Not when the touch of his lips still lingered on her skin. Not when his voice echoed in her heart.

Dropping herself onto the bed, she spotted her phone lying exactly where it slipped out of her hand at night.

Picking it up, she scrolled through the sea of notifications from her family, until Sara Snow’s text caught her eye:

Doctor! Don’t forget. 8 PM tonight. My place.

Thoughtfully, Sara had included her address.

It had been ten days since Sara had invited her to the party. So much had happened since then - too much. Time had flown by, chaotic and relentless, and Inara completely forgot about the invitation.

But attending a party felt like an absurdity now. It was hard for her to even imagine feigning small talk or laughter, with that disarrayed state of her mind - her life.

She barely had the energy to drag through the two last days in King's Landing.

And a knot tightened in her chest at the mere thought of possibly seeing Aemond again.

With a sigh, she typed out a response:

I won't be able to make it tonight, Sara. Leaving on monday and still a lot to pack. Sorry 🙁

Sara’s reply came within minutes, swift and uncompromising:

🙄 I'm sending a car to fetch you. Be ready by 7🥰

Inara let out a soft groan, torn between frustration and resignation. Part of her hoped Aemond wouldn’t be there - she wasn’t sure she could bear to be in his presence without crumbling.

Yet, her heart betrayed her, quickening its rhythm at the mere thought of seeing him again.

Inara stared at her reflection in the mirror - a transformation of herself. A pair of ivory high-waisted trousers, and a gold silk camisole that enhanced the amber of her eyes, hugged her curves at just the right places. Her waist-length hair cascaded in soft curls, framing her face and allowing the diamond studs in her ears to catch the light.

She had always loved makeup, though seldom wore it herself. Today, she needed it to remove the despondence overshadowing her features. The makeup magnified her flawless, devastating beauty to several notches, but couldn't hide the sadness that floated in her eyes.

“I won’t let anything happen to us"

With a deep, quivering breath, she steeled herself, picked up her coat and bag and left the house.

Sara's place exuded a perfect blend of pomp and sophistication. The spacious hall, bathed in the soft, warm glow of chandeliers, was alive with the hum of conversation and laughter. Exquisite food adorned the tables, their aromas mingling in the air.

The laughter and chatter around felt distant, as Inara’s gaze involuntarily swept over the gathering, seeking the one person she longed to see, yet feared encountering.

But she could not find him.

He is not here. He must have not come.

A mix of relief and disappointment washed over her.

"Doctor!" Sara's familiar, cheerful voice cut through the lively chatter and music, pulling Inara from her thoughts and bringing a smile to her face. She spotted the hostess standing with a tall, brown-haired, ruggedly handsome man, drinks in hand.

"Gosh doctor, have you considered working in movies? You'd give sleepless nights to the crowds," Sara's unrestrained compliment, as Inara approached, brought a blush to her face.

"Cregan, this is the one I told you about," Sara chirped.

Cregan Stark, Sara's half-brother, took Inara's hand and pressed his lips to it. The gesture took her by surprise, the gentleness contrasting with his tough exterior.

"And that's Jace," Sara continued, pointing to a slightly shorter man with curly hair, DJing for the night. He waved at Inara with a smile that seemed to light up the room.

“Where are your manners, Snow? Forgetting to introduce your most important guest,” came a lazy, mocking voice from behind.

Inara turned, recognizing the man instantly. She had seen him at the Targaryen mansion when she came to tend to his father. His features, were softer than Aemond's, but carried a mischievous gloom. Despite his slightly unkempt and casual appearance, his Targaryen charm still shone through.

“Stop giving yourself so much importance, Aegon,” Sara muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Dr. Maegyr,” he said with a sweeping bow, ignoring Sara's jab, “I’m sure you know my brother—same hair, taller than me, broody but a fine, sweet thing?” Aegon chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment.

At the mention of Aemond, Inara’s heart skipped a beat, her pulse quickening. She forced a smile with a little nod.

“I’ve met your sister too, Helaena, she’s very kind,” Inara attempted to steer the conversation to safer ground, trying to calm the fluttering in her chest.

“Kind, yes, and boring,” Aegon replied, rolling his eyes dramatically and letting out an exaggerated puff of air. “We have nothing in common. She hates parties!” He took a sip from his drink, glancing around.

Sara, noticing the palpable awkwardness, stepped in, offering her hand to Inara. “Come, let me get you a drink,” she led her away from Aegon’s stupid smirk.

The evening drifted away, and gradually Inara began to feel the weight of everything around.

Faces drifted in and out of view, some familiar, some entirely foreign. The crowd of wealthy strangers, with their polished conversations and facades, reminded her of a world she didn’t belong to. Reminded her that she was an outsider, her simple tastes at odds with the lavishness surrounding her.

It was only in her brief conversation with Cregan Stark that she found herself able to breathe a little easier. Despite belonging to one of Westeros' most influential families, there was a humbleness about him that stood out. His words didn’t seem to carry any arrogance, nor did they reflect any ulterior motives she’d come to expect in such circles.

“You should come and see the Northern Lights in Winterfell,” Cregan said, his voice warm and inviting. “They’re exquisite. Our travel and tours company organizes special trips to the wall, ..”

“Do you never tire of boasting about your country, Stark?”

Aegon’s sneering voice cut through, thick with wine and derision.

Cregan, ever the gentleman, didn’t rise to Aegon’s bait. Instead, he offered a polite smile and quietly excused himself, as though a conversation with Aegon would have been too trivial to pursue.

Inara was stranded to deal with Aegon’s chaotic presence. A stench of alcohol lingered in the air between them, his grin widening. She forced herself to remain composed, though her patience was dwindling.

“So,” he drawled, his voice rich with mockery, “lover’s spat?”

Inara stiffened, her grip tightening around her glass.

She willed her voice to remain steady, even as a faint flush crept to her cheeks. “I... I think you’re mistaking me for someone else,” she replied, mustering every ounce of politeness she could summon.

But Aegon ignored her attempt to steer the conversation away, “He’s not here, and he’s not at home - his staff told me as much,” Aegon chuckled, “I think I know where he might be.”

Her mind churned, seeking an exit from the increasingly suffocating conversation. She had been in situations like this before, with men who reveled in crossing boundaries. She masked the discomfort behind a sip of wine, deciding quietly to excuse herself soon.

“I thought he stopped going to Sylvi after he…” Aegon began, but then, as if catching himself, he rephrased, “…met you.”

Inara’s brows furrowed, confusion flickering across her face. “Sylvi?” she could not help but ask as the unfamiliar name caught her attention.

Aegon chuckled, a muffled, almost derisive sound. “Sylvi is Aemond’s whore,” he said shrugging, the brazenness of the statement sending a shock through her system.

Her breath hitched, and she forced herself to hold his gaze, though her composure began to crack at the edges.

Aegon waved a dismissive hand, his tone growing lighter as if his words were harmless. “Relax, it’s nothing. Besides,” he added, with an impish grin, “he’s crazy about you.”

His words hung in the air, unease coiling around her. She couldn’t respond. Instead, she downed her wine in one gulp, the burn of it doing little to mitigate the discomfort.

She looked around, the hall already half empty as guests had begun to leave. There was no point in staying anymore. Nausea threatened her as she feared encountering another incident like with Jason Lannister.

“I’ve got to leave,” she said abruptly, setting her glass down. She stepped away, putting distance between her and Aegon.

Aegon blinked, as if realizing he had overstepped. “Wait,” he said, his grin faltering into something almost apologetic. “I didn’t mean to..”

Aegon trailed after her, his steps unsteady, the haze of wine clouding his senses. Just as his foot caught on the edge of the carpet, threatening a graceless fall, a firm hand clamped down on his shoulder, steadying him with startling force.

Aegon turned his head, blinking away his stupor, and found himself staring into the icy, unrelenting gaze of Aemond.

“Oh, you’re here?” Aegon let out a breathy chuckle, his attempt at nonchalance failing to mask the unease creeping into his tone. “Just lost my footing.” He shrugged.

“You’ve said and done enough,” Aemond replied in a low voice, his expression wooden, lips set in a grim line.

Aegon snorted, waving his hands in mock surrender, his words slurring slightly. “Alright, alright, no need to get all dramatic.”

But Aemond didn’t bother responding to his brother’s idiocy, as his focus had already shifted, his stern features softening a smidgen, as his gaze flicked past Aegon.

Inara stood a few steps away, watching the two brothers silently. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes - her eyes betrayed the cyclone of emotions whirling inside.

Their gazes met, and it was as if the rest of the room fell away, leaving only the charged silence between them.

And then, Aemond broke eye contact. He turned and strode out of the hall, disappearing through the doors to the rooftop terrace.

Inara remained rooted in place, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a hesitant step toward the exit, her mind made up, but Aegon’s voice, softer and stripped of its earlier bravado, stopped her in her tracks.

“Don’t leave,” he called out, his tone carrying a sincerity she hadn’t expected. He glanced at the doors to the terrace where Aemond had gone, his face showing a sliver of regret, “Not because of me, “I..I am sorry.”

Instead of Inara, it was Aegon who left the hall.

Flustered, she reached for another drink and downed it in one swift motion, the burn of the wine offering a momentary distraction.

Sara, who had been simultaneously seeing her guests off and observing the scene unfolding from a distance, approached Inara.

“He’s been here for some time,” Sara’s calm voice ceased the train of Inara’s thoughts, alrightly dulled slightly by the wine. “He enjoys his solitude at parties. That’s his way of having a good time.”

Inara didn’t respond immediately, her mind turning over the words, trying to make sense of everything. Sara’s gaze softened, as if she could see the weight Inara was carrying without needing to ask.

"You’re safe here. Stay as long as you wish. My guests are almost gone," she said gently, looking around. Her hand settled on Inara’s wrist offering a quiet reassurance.

Inara looked at Sara for a moment. Something in her quiet kindness eased the tension in her heart.

"Thanks," she said in a meek voice. Then, as if coaxed by something beyond her control, her feet moved, and she found herself at the terrace doors, her hand resting on the door.

With a quiet breath, she pushed the doors open.

The expansive doors of the hall opened to a vast rooftop terrace, a breathtaking panoramic view of King's Landing sprawled before her. A pergola stood gracefully in a corner of the terrace, positioned to overlook the Blackwater Bay. Delicate lanterns and dainty fairy lights adorned its structure, casting a cozy, inviting glow on the couch placed underneath.

She spotted Aemond, clad in a deep green shirt, leaning lazily against one of the pergola’s pillars, observing the waters of Blackwater Bay, where the moonlight played across the rippling surface, creating a hypnotic shimmer

As she neared him, the subtle shift in his posture, the slight tilt of his head at the sound of her footsteps told her that he noticed her arrival. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing faintly in the dark, before he exhaled a plume of smoke into the crisp night air.

She came to a stop by his side. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried to fend off the shiver - whether from the cold or the nervous energy coiling in her chest, she couldn’t be certain.

For once she did not want to be certain. She did not want to be right. Or wrong.

For once, she just wished to push aside the endless swirl of rights and wrongs, of doubts and judgments that had haunted her for far too long. Because she was tired - so tired of running, thinking, and carrying the weight of uncertainty that seemed to shadow her at every turn.

All she wanted was a moment. A moment of stillness, of quiet.

Even it was fleeting.

Even if it was the last moment she’d ever have with him.

And the tranquility of the night felt like an unspoken invitation to let it all go.

Her eyes fluttered closed, her head tilting ever so slightly until it came to rest against the pillar beside him. For a heartbeat, she let herself drown in the comfort of his proximity, the envelope of his scent on her senses, distinct and achingly familiar.

Coffee. Cigarettes. Sea.

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” she said softly, her voice barely rising above the whisper of the wind. Her eyes opened slowly, and she turned to look at him, her gaze searching his profile, "And to say goodbye.”

Aemond didn’t respond. His focus remained locked on the horizon, his features calm but distant, as if her words had dissolved into the night without reaching him.

Her chest tightened. She had expected nothing less, and yet it still stung.

Maybe this indifferent silence was what she deserved. She forced herself to accept it, to take it as her answer.

With a quiet sigh, she turned to leave.

But a hand closed around her wrist, before she could step away. Warm. Firm.

“You are standing on my wrong side, ñuhus jorrāeliarzus.” His deep, velvety voice pulled the strings of her heart.

"Huh?"

His hand guided her closer, pulling her gently yet deliberately until she came face-to-face with him. The same hand slid to her waist, his fingers splaying on her back, pulling her even closer. The space between them vanished in an instant.

Her lips parted involuntarily, a soft breath escaping her as her palms found their way to his shoulders. Each time he touched her, her very body rebelled against her own will.

“I never told you before,” Aemond began, his voice quieter now, thumb circling against the fabric of her camisole, “I can’t see from my right eye. It’s dead—there’s no light in it.”

He flicked his cigarette away, the ember snuffing out against the cold stone.

Stunned surprise lit her face. The revelation caught her off guard, sorrow swelling in her chest.

“Aemond,” she whispered, barely audible, “how?”

A faint, almost bitter smile tugged at his lips. Even under the gloomy weight of his confession, he looked otherworldly - his silver hair catching the faint glow of the fairy lights, the sharp lines of his face softened by vulnerability. Her heart skipped a beat as his gaze momentarily dropped to her slightly parted lips.

“A childhood fight,” he explained, recalling, “Jacerys’s brother, Luke, pushed me. I hit my head on a rock, hard.” He paused, his jaw tightening briefly before continuing, “ There was a minor brain stroke, but the damage... It was enough. Gradually, I lost my vision.” He shifted his gaze to the moon for a few moment, then back to her.

A strange pull tugged at her consciousness. A fleeting feeling of déjà vu suffused through her, as if she’d known this somehow, had been in the moment before.

An oddly familiar, yet eerie feeling left her momentarily unmoored.

But the wine in her system made it easy for her to shake it off, and her fingers instinctively reached for his face.

Her fingertips grazed his right eye, tenderly tracing his eyebrow. “Aemond,” she murmured again, her voice heavy with emotion. Words failed her. All she wanted was to fill that void in him.

To bring light to the darkness that followed him everywhere, all these years.

“I’m used to it now,” he said, his tone tinged with a quiet sadness. “This is a prosthetic, spent millions to make it look and move as real as possible.” He let out a wan chuckle, its sound carrying an effort of masking his pain - pain of living all these years, having something stolen from him, something he’d never fully regain.

For a few moments, the rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore, filled the serene silence between them. Inara did not even realize when her head had come to rest on his chest, her eyes slipping closed, lulled by the stillness of the night and the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear.

“Aegon took me to Sylvi when I turned thirteen,” Aemond began softly, his voice carrying a weight that tugged her back to the moment. “She taught me a lot about… everything.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she lifted her head, her gaze seeking his, as if silently urging him to go on.

“I used to…with her.. before. But not anymore,” he admitted, his words slow and deliberate. “It’s not just about that. Not anymore.. She’s a friend, a confidante, Inara.”

The weight of his confession hit her, and she instinctively stepped out of his embrace, moving to the terrace railing.She needed space to think, to process. With her back to him, she stared out into the endless expanse of night.

“Every man has his sins,” he continued, his voice steady but tinged with regret. “ Everyone gets lost at some point, makes mistakes.”

The frown on her face did not relax. Her grip on the railing tightened as his words settled into her, each one cutting deeper.

“With Alys.. it started with meaningless sex, there was never any love.”

At the mention of Alys, her body stiffened. The suddenness of the revelation felt like a jolt, but she still didn’t turn to face him. She kepr staring resolutely at the horizon, letting the night, the vast sea and the crisp air, absorb her rising emotions.

“She tried to trap me,” Aemond said, his tone growing heavier, “claiming I was the father of her child. I had to marry her.”

Her breath hitched, and she finally turned sharply, her face pale with disbelief and hurt.

Aemond stepped closer, his gaze earnest as he took her disappointed face in his hands.

“The child didn’t look like me. He didn’t look like a Targaryen.”

Inara scoffed, pushing his hands away, exasperation mingling with the throbbing ache in her chest.

“That’s not how genes work, Aemond.” Her voice cracked, and she took a step back, shaking her head as if trying to shield herself from the flood of information threatening to swallow her sanity.

She wanted to run. She wanted to leave before she completely fell apart. Before the weight of his confessions and her own vulnerability crushed her. Before she regretted the decision to see him tonight, having refused him the night before.

And yet, something in his eyes—something raw, unspoken, and undeniably real—kept her rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to turn away.

“When the baby was born, I couldn't accept him as my child. I filed for the divorce and urged the court to compel her for taking a paternity test,” he continued, his voice faltering for a moment before stabilizing, “it came back negative.”

Silence fell again as she stared at him, eyes brightened with pain, her heart torn between relief, sorrow and confusion.

“My family buried the scandal,” Aemond admitted, his tone raw, “Back then, I was just starting in the industry, the tabloids never dug it up.”

He took a step closer to her and she did not retreat this time. He reached for her hand, gently pulling her closer, his other arm wrapping around her delicate neck, bringing her into his space again.

“When she insulted you the other day, I lost mycontrol. And I’d lose it again, on anyone, if they try to hurt you.”

There was a flicker in his eyes - a fierce protectiveness that made her heart ache. Her own eyes brimmed with tears, unable to hold back the emotions rising inside her.

The raw honesty in his voice, the quiet effort he had been making to keep her close, to keep her in his life—all seemed to diminish the strength of the decision, she so staunchly made.

She knew now. She knew everything he went through, the weight of the burden he carried, the chaos he had endured. And he was still standing, still trying so desperately, to be someone she could trust.

Then how could she turn her back on this man, the one who had bared himself so fully before her? The man who had spent so long hiding from the world, concealing his truth from everyone, but her?

And before she could stop herself, before she could deny the pull she felt towards him anymore, she wrapped her arms tightly around his chest.

He exhaled a shaky breath, resting his chin on the crown of her head. As he kissed her hair over and over, the storm inside her finally began to calm down.

“Be a part of my world, if I’m not fit to be a part of yours,” she rasped against his chest, consumed with emotion and his arms tightened around her.

“I want you, Aemond. I want you with every fiber of my being. But if I lose you, I’ll fall apart.” Her fingers clutched his shirt desperately, as though afraid he might vanish if she let go.

“You won’t lose me,” he murmured, as his hand cradled the back of her head with a tenderness that made the world around her fade into insignificance.

She placed her palm on his chest, feeling the deep, steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the subtle hum of his voice. In that moment, nothing else mattered. The only sound that existed was his heartbeat, synchronized with hers. The only scent was his, warm and familiar. The only sight was him.

Just him.

He was all she needed.

“I want you to stay in King’s Landing,” he said softly, breaking the silence.

Her eyes fluttered open, the weight of reality sinking in, yet she didn’t loosen her grip on him.

“I can get you any job, or a seat at any medical school in Westeros -just name it,” he murmured, his cheek brushing her hair.

That made her laugh, a few tears already pooled in her eyes rolled down her cheeks - an honest, bright sound that melted his heart. And in that moment, he realized he had never seen her laugh heartily before. She rarely laughed. Yet now, hearing it, he knew it was even more beautiful than her smile he thought he loved most.

“As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll stick with the position I earned on my own merit, Aemond Targaryen,” she sniffed and replied with a grin, her fingers gently brushing against his jaw before finding his injured hand and holding it in hers.

His other hand moved to her face, his thumb grazing her lips with deliberate softness, sending a wave of unsteady anticipation through her. She felt her breath hitch, her pulse quicken under his touch.

“Turn around,” his voice low, smokey and commanding, his gaze fixed on her with a mix of desire and gravity.

Still smiling and yet eyebrows bunching in confusion at his sudden request, she complied.

A small gasp escaped her throat, her eyelids fluttering shut as his fingers lightly grazed the bare skin of her back, sweeping her hair aside with a tenderness that sent a shiver through her.

The cool touch of metal against her neck nudged her eyes open. She glanced down, and found a silver chain with a dragon-shaped pendant—the one he always wore.

He leaned in, clasping the lock, his lips brushing softly against the skin of her back before reaching her ear. His voice, low and full of meaning, sent a thrill through her as he murmured, “Now I’ll stay with you all the time.”

That declaration—his promise—completely unraveled her. She barely turned before she found his lips with her own, her hand cupping his jaw and the world seemed to halt, seemed to dissolve into silence. She kissed him as though she never wanted to stop.

His hands traced the curve of her body, settling at her waist, and with a smooth motion, he whirled her around without breaking the seal of their lips. He kept pulling her closer, yet it still didn’t feel close enough - as though he needed her to collapse into him, to become a part of him.

She flung her arms around him, her fingers tangling in his hair, her chest pressing against his as their kiss deepened. She met his tongue, stroke for stroke, her body responding instinctively to the intensity of his hands as they explored every inch of her.

Maybe the kiss lasted a minute, or hours. They did not know. They did not care. But when they finally broke apart, they were breathless, their hearts racing in unison.

She took his hand and led him to the couch placed nearby. And as soon as they sat, her lips sought his again with unrestrained passion. The kiss felt endless, as though time itself had unraveled and left only the two of them suspended in that moment.

Before they realized it, they were lying side by side on the couch. Her face rested against his chest, her body folded into the curve of his, his chain glittering across her neck. His fingers traced gentle, aimless patterns across her skin, each touch sending sparks down her spine.

“Aemond?”

She felt the low hum of his response resonate in his chest.

“What did you call me in High Valyrian earlier?” she asked, tilting her head slightly to look up at him.

Aemond chuckled, a rare sound that filled her heart with overwhelming warmth. He tipped his head back for a moment, his laughter soft and genuine. Then, bringing his lips to rest gently against her forehead, he whispered in a voice filled with unguarded affection,

“My love.”

-x-

(High Valyrian translation

ñuhus jorrāeliarzus = my love)

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camelspit · 1 year ago

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visibly clenching my jaw and shaking with rage. why are all the newer barbie movies trash.

#been clenching my fists getting through them with my brother #big city big dreams and princess adventure are the ones we watched and EW #the most horrendous crime is definetely the outfits. they are genuinley a nightmare to look at.#but also the plots ?? ass. the music ?? forgettable #there is no magic anymore do you understand #and it all takes place in the same shit ass world now to promote the barbie viog channel or something #AND they dropped rainmaker entertainment im pretty sure #since they havent been in any of the credits #i think they stopped being good after dolphin magic. if i have the timeline right.#about to watch mermaid power and from what i saw in the trailer the outfits are HIDEOUS #like how did you go from pearl princess and mermaid tale to this. yikes.#barbie the full blue hair is NOT a look and it does NOT match your outfit #god.. i could rant for ages about this you dont understand #its so incredibly awful. what happened to the barbie magic <- capitalism. capitalism happened.#god.. dont even get me started on the sister focused movies ??#chelseas lost birthday and skippers babysitting adventure ??#like oh my god.#tell me why fucking barbie butterfly diaries is better than the newer movies #at least it had heart !! at least it wasnt a cash grab and nothing more !! at least the music kind of slapped #at least it was endearing..#and we actually had good barbie movies fairly recently ??#one of my favorites ever starlight adventure came out in like 2016 #the animation was insane and the outfits were incredible #and now we are.. here

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chillinglikeashilling · 3 months ago

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I do think that it's important for Evan to understand that just because his friend don't express it in the way he does (or desperately tries not to) it doesn't mean that they don't love and miss him just as much as he misses them.

Evan said that he learned after love (his friends) came into his life, that the rest of life is still very much a thing you have to deal with and now he's seen someone dealing with it.

Jammer loves the Pilot Program and he loves his mom and sisters and all of the other teams he's part of, but the logistics of life get in the way of that. So he's thinking of ways to change his life to accommodate that love.

Now Jammer doesn't handle that perfectly because no one does really (god I want to see the convo in the next episode so bad) but he's acknowledged the problem and then moved towards fixing it.

I understand why Evan is the way he is but I do think that (for perfectly understandable reasons) he can be very unaware of the others feelings and motivations. In the same way he was doing a disservice to Sam, he's doing the same disservice to Jammer by deciding on his own that they are being 'kind' rather than 'loving'.

Jammer obviously isn't coming at the thing with the same intesity as Evan is but they both have the same silly day dream of just getting to be with their loved ones forever. That's a very understandable, very common want.

#Again I understand why he's that way and I don't think it's as simple as realizing your coping mechanisms are bad #And then deciding not to do them anymore #But the fact of the matter is that all of them have their own baggage.#It might look different than Evan's but they can't always be the perfect people in their relationships with him because they're not perfect #Sometimes Evan is going to have to be the one stepping forward and reaching out #Or being generous or understanding and picking up the slack #That's the hard part of belonging #You can't just be in a community you need to do community things #And you can get leeway and support and understanding and not be perfect at it #But you just gotta do it imperfectly then because that's what everyone else is doing #dimension 20 #misfits and magic #mismag 2 spoilers #mismag spoilers #mismag 2 #evan kelmp #Whitney jammer

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cable-salamdr · 3 months ago

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Wolfcat is sooooo funky to me esp now that it’s confirmed that Sora and Jordana were in school together and drifted apart. I don’t really see them as toxic yuri anymore and more as Jordana somewhat-joining the ninja and they are both confused as fuck about one another. Just exhausted from life and scared of AND for the other person. They have so many issues to fix between each other and themselves, and if it takes them like 10 years to actually get together then I am completely okay with that. No more toxic yuri only weary yuri now.

#i need them to have so many awkward conversations and crying sessions together you don’t understand #i need them to be very mad at each other. i need them to kiss softly #i’m retracting all my art of them being violent and in love they are now just scared asf #sora because she’s still missing her best friend and the entire world keeps going to shit and she DID NOT sign up for this #and jordana because she disappointed literally everyone in her life so far and joining the ninja has felt like the ultimate defeat #she can barely do magic anymore without feeling so so panicked #these two don’t have time for romance rn but they def have time for slowly becoming each other’s comfort #considering they have known each other for so long #GAHJ they make me insane chat i’m not even joking #ninjago spoilers #ninjago jordana #jordana ninjago #ninjago sora #sora ninjago #raspberryshipping #ninjago raspberry #wolfcat #wolfcat shipping #cable’s txts

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ghostoffuturespast · 1 month ago

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Honestly, getting real tired carrying and supporting other folks around here when most of them aren't returning the favor...

#i'm two seconds away from nuking everything in my queue and drafts out of spite #but i don't feel good about that bc there's innocent collateral #this is tumblr‚ the place you're supposed to fucking share the stuff that your friend's and other people are making #and i get it‚ it's not possible to like and reblog everything here‚ i understand that and i'm not expecting that #it just sucks constantly feeling like no one gives a shit about the stuff you're proud of and put effort into‚ y'know?#there's an entire subsection of this fandom that basically ignores any vper that isn't running modded on pc #which is like half the fucking fandom and i definitely pissed some of those people off just for choosing who i associate with #i've been writing in this fandom for three years now and i still don't feel like i have any fucking writing friends #or a good place to get technical support #the writing associates i do have either don't read anything i write or when they do won't comment for some inexplicable reason #(if you're an author on ao3 you know‚ first hand‚ damn well how much comments mean to authors‚ so what's the deal?)#(if you actually don't like it‚ it's fine‚ don't even touch the kudos button‚ no one has to know you were there)#i'm traumatized from my previous discord experiences and am very reluctant to let people into my circle without vetting them first #even tumblr communities is a struggle for me because it still feels a like a popularity/social influence contest #and i know i'm fucking slow #sue me for having a life outside of the internet and wanting to be mindful and thoughtfully engaged with other people's artwork #i talk to people in the tags #i've been leaving comments on every fic i read now #i'm not expecting people to bend over backwards for me #but fostering community and friendships requires mutual exchange #and it's shitty feeling like you're generosity is constantly being fucking wasted #i'm trying to keep it fun around here but a lot aren't helping with that and this isn't a job for one person #sorry not sorry for the rant but i've been feeling very salty about this as of late #i know the holidays can be stressful and the fandom in general has been slowly shrinking which has probably exacerbated these issues #a lot of folks have moved on #but these issues have always been here and they aren't magically going to go away unless people work on them #i'm not expecting anything i make to break the bank at this point but when your friends won't even put your crappy art on the fridge anymor #like why are we here?#i also don't understand the people who are following me but never interact with anything i make???#rambling into the void

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necrotic-nephilim · 6 months ago

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Any ships you don’t like in the batfam fandom that is popular?

OOOH this is such a fun question because I have quite a few

StephCass - i'll be honest this is one of those ships where the fandom ruined it for me. because 2000s StephCass is an elite dynamic, they care for each other so deeply. but the fandom has been intent on defanging and purifying this ship. i don't know *why* but StephCass seems most popular with the anti-Batcest crowd who get very mad if you compare it to ships they deem Batcest. i have an entire meta commentary on this in my drafts I'll likely never post discussing why the only reason StephCass gets the pass for not being Batcest ties directly into misogyny (because the women of the Batfam need to exist as love interests first, not family members so Steph was never going to truly get to exist as a "full" Batfam member so long as she could remain a viable love interest for Tim, and the same can apply to Babs, Helena, and even Cass in some cases) and that just sours me to it. like if i want yuri in Batfam i think there are far more interesting/fucked up ships for Steph like Babs/Steph or Helena/Steph. and when it comes to what i'd actually like to see in canon, i don't want to see Steph relegated to love interest of a Batfamily member, even if it's queer. let her date and exist outside of Gotham the way every other Batfam member gets to, DC *please*.

Bruce/Selina - i can't fully articulate why this ship isn't my thing, it just isn't. i think i just can't conceivably agree with Selina letting go of so many of her fundamental morals and beliefs for the sake of a man, even one she loves such as Bruce. ironically, i think that's one of the few things Gotham War got right about these two. the only canon love interest i like for Bruce is Zatanna and i mourn we'll never get much of that.

JayRoy - i will admit when i was newer to DC the first comics i picked up for Jason were all New-52 and i shipped this. but now that i'm a pre-Flashpoint truther and i've actually read well-written Roy Harper comics, i only see the flaws in this ship. ngl if ppl were actually fun and interesting with it, playing with the idea of Roy knowing Jason as Robin and still seeing him as just Dick's little brother who's gone a little mental, it *could* be fun. but this Red Hood & the Outlaws (2011) and Red Hood/Arsenal (2015) dynamic *butchers* the fuck out of Roy and strips him of everything interesting. and even as a Batfamily stan, my number one pet peeve is when other DC characters get *butchered* in a Batfamily character's book just for the sake of propping up the Bat as some kind of savior. free Roy Harper from this mans.

Bruce/Oliver - we could be here all day if i listed all the Bruce ships i don't like, but i figure this one has to be included. because oh my god either the people shipping this *really* don't understand Oliver Queen or they just hate his ass because why would you subject Oliver to this man. he can't *stand* Bruce. i really hate the popular BruOliie shipping dynamic of like "oh they were boarding school besties" because if you want that, you *should* like Bruce/Zatanna, not these two. Oliver just always gets butchered in these fics and i won't stand for it.

Tim/Bernard - the ESSAYS i could write on this ship and why i dislike it. the fucking *fear* DC (and most popular media tbh) has with depicting queer relationships as anything other than totally perfect and cute for fear of accusations of homophobia has stripped this ship of *any* real grit. Bernard is a non-character in Tim Drake: Robin, he exists to cheer Tim on and prop him up and just be The Boyfriend. we occasionally get glimpses of an interesting character with really interesting trauma and nothing is *done* with it bc at the end of the day, Tim and Bernard must be perfect and cute. what's fun about Tim is he is the *worst* boyfriend alive. that boy is *ass* at dating. all of his relationships are rich with conflict and yet the moment he dates a guy suddenly all of his flaws vanish? i hate it. i mourn what this could've been if we kept messy Tim Drake and had a Bernard who was actually informed by his trauma. DC please let gays be messy again. also of all of Tim's 90s/00s friends to bring back as a love interest, Bernard Dowd was just a *bizarre* fucking choice. Sebastian Ives was *right* there come on now.

Any Crossover Ship - look if crossovers are your cup of tea i'm happy for you but oh my god if i have to see that little green ghost boy or that ladybug girl in the Batfam one more time i think i may explode. i have a lot of thoughts on *why* i think specifically Danny Phantom and Miraculous Ladybug get crossed over as often as they do with the Batfam, but i don't think anyone wants to year that. my only exception to this is Jason/Bucky Barnes, but it *has* to be comics!Bucky. like. Judd Winick's Jason and Ed Brubaker's Bucky would hatefuck and that i wish to see it. any other crossover ship (especially the Peter Parker ones that seem to be rising in popularity) just do *not* do it for me.

honestly besides that i don't think i dislike many ships. (aside from being super opinionated on Bruce ships, but that's mostly bc ppl will use him to butcher the character they ship him with) there are some ships i'm neutral to because i simply do not know enough to have an opinion (like Dick/Wally). i guess the only Batcest ship i'm not particular to is Bruce/Damian, but I wouldn't say that one is popular nor would i say i dislike it, just that it's not my cup of tea. most Batcest ships click for me in one way or another because i like their Weird dnyamics. i guess i could also say i dislike most ships that have come out of Young Justice (tv) because. oh my *god* why were those group of characters put together on a team. it's baffling. but even then it's not disliking those ships, it's moreso disliking that show's depiction of those characters so. everything is really dependant on the canon context for me!

#necrotic answerings #batcest #sorry sorry to the shippers who are going to have this post caught in their filters #i am specifically not tagging the ships for that reason but sometimes tumblr will put it in the tagged content anyway #so sorry about that one #anyway i'm so serious i have Big feelings about the steph and cass thing.#i will probably never post it because oh the fights it'll start. but i've got feelings.#also my jason and roy feelings are pretty recent won't lie #like i used to be neutral on it. even have it in recent (within past few years recent at least) fanfic i've written #but the straw that broke the camels back was -as usual- wayne family adventures.#a recent episode had roy waxing poetic about how jason “saved” and “believed” in the outlaws as their leader #and i was like nope. i'm done. i can't. unsubscribing from this ship. goodbye.#red hood/arsenal is a guilty pleasure comic i won't lie to you (mostly for the duela dent content)#but i can't do it anymore. i can't witness roy being fucking BUTCHERED like that. i am done i've left the building.#writing this i found i actually don't dislike as many ships as i thought i did. bc i love to be a hater #but rlly most batfam ships i'm agreeable to #it needs the correct context and characterization but I'll be down for the cause if i think it could be fun #only the ones i mentioned are the ones i rlly dislike enough to be grumpy about #also bruce and constantine. i also dislike and am grumpy about.#but i do think that *could* work. y'all just need to read a hellblazer comic #bc you guys (the general you) do not understand constantine stop making him silly magic mcguffin guy. free him.#tumblr ate some of my tags on my last post so I'll stop rambling for fear of being silenced by tumblr gods again.

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