#by that i mean i put less effort to be gentle in my disagreement | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justletmeplayminecraft · 4 years

Text

five times the hermits reassured xb his reputation doesn’t matter to them & one time they didn’t need to

another fic in @martuzzio‘s space outlaw au! this was a bit of an in-between whilst i prepped for a bigger project. this time: exploring xb and his feelings towards his false accusation.

featuring: xb needs hugs, i promise he gets them, me trying to feel out voices, lots of reassuring hermits, they’re a big family okay, xb is Not Okay with his bounty and the effects it causes, but they’re there to help, some cute kids, when you have problems: lie in a pool, its angst with comfort, the usual.

warnings: people are mean, panic attack, minor violence, less minor off-screen violence (mentioned gun violence, no details), low self image, self worth issues, bad decisions made whilst possibly dissociating, i swear its happy at the end.

XB has never been one for public attention. He'd always been happy at his job. He minded his own business, enjoyed the research and helping people. Sometimes he even socialised with his co-workers, though that rarely extended outside of work. He lived a solitary life, away from the public eye, and he was happy with that. He had his lot. He didn't need anything else.

Then the accident happened and his world turned upside down.

Everything he'd built for himself, the comfortable life he'd made, fell apart at his feet. Suddenly he was to blame for the corruption of an entire planet. And he knew- he knew it wasn't really his fault. It was a complete mismanagement, barely even his department! But maybe if he'd paid more attention, worked faster, spoken out-

He can't change things now.

What followed was the most stressful period of his life. He watched as charges stacked up, already convicted in the public opinion. He went on the run, hiding on the half-dead planet and just trying to survive, really. He stopped keeping track of anything else, feeling sick as people demanded his head. His abilities saved him from two assassination attempts. He ran further, hid better.

Until he met the Hermits.

After all this time, he's not quite sure how he ended up joining them. He thought he was dead when he first caught sight of that emblem. This was it. The outside world had finally caught up. Then they helped him. Then he was on their ship. Then Xisuma was asking in a kind voice if he wanted to become one of them. A Hermit.

To tell the truth, if he knew the reaction it'd cause, he wouldn't have agreed. He would have said no, been dropped on a planet with a new identity, and gone on his way into obscurity. Instead, he said yes. He became a Hermit with a capital H. It felt good, at first. To be part of something like that. They had his back, they knew the situation.

The publicity didn't happen immediately. The Hermits were a smaller group back then. It took a short while until the rest of the universe caught up. Even now, he has no idea who first broke the story. One night, he falls asleep, lounging in the pool. In the morning he wakes up to a slander campaign.

Not against him. Against the Hermits. Because of him.

Hermits protecting planet destroyer, Hermits support massacre, Hermits criminal, Hermits, Hermits, Hermits, Him.

Joe is the one who finds him having a panic attack at the bottom of the pool. He's first aware of light touches against his skin, the water swirling in ways he doesn't expect. He opens his eye in a panic, but Joe is already shielding his face. He gestures a thumbs up and it takes all of XB's effort to remember what that means. He nods in a rush, realises Joe can't see that, and tugs him up instead.

They surface together. XB takes a strangled gasp of air, struggling lungs already unhappy. Joe guides him to the side, speaking firm instructions XB doesn't fully process but obeys all the same. Eventually, they sit at the edge of the pool. He can't feel the water around his legs. He can barely feel Joe's hand on his back, rubbing circles. He loses track of time completely.

Joe doesn't leave him.

He waits, his hand and unintelligible words a companion whilst XB fights for air. When XB can make out his counting, he tries to follow Joe's encouragement and take deep breaths. His heartbeat continues racing. He squeezes Joe's free hand tight.

Once he's finally confident enough, he mumbles, "Sorry." Joe makes an audible noise of disagreement. He places something cool in XB's hand. It takes sliding his finger around to realise it's his eye protection.

"Nothing to apologise for," Joe tells him. With his eye controlled, XB can finally see Joe's face. The Hermit is looking at him with a gentle calmness, water dripping from his skin and hair. Without the pounding in his ears, XB can hear them splash against the tiles. "I'm going to go out on one of Cleo's limbs here, and guess you saw the news." XB rubs at one of his fins with a nod.

"I shouldn't have joined you guys."

"I disagree," Joe replies. XB turns away. He kicks his legs just enough to create gentle ripples in the water.

"I've made a right mess of things. For everyone." Joe bloops, leaning onto his hand.

"Hardly more of a mess than before," he tells him. There's no doubt at all in his voice. No anger. "XB, you have to understand we knew what would happen when we took you on. We care about you. Not the opinions of the faceless masses. If we cared about that then we wouldn't get anything done." XB sighs, a drop of water falling from his fin.

"How can you be so calm about this?" He asks. He can't find anything else to say. Joe pats his back lightly.

"In the same way I was calm when False joined." He kicks his feet. "Things will be dramatic. It might feel like the end of the world. But sometimes you just have to trust Xisuma knows what he's doing. And I certainly think he did when he invited you." Joe pushes onto his feet, offering his hand for XB. XB takes it, trying not to use it too much. Joe is sturdy despite that. "This will pass," Joe encourages, "And you will always have a place here."

"That's a pretty bold statement." Joe doesn't let go of XB's hand. He leads them away from the pool, not caring about the trail of water as they go.

"And yet it's a true one." XB chooses to focus on the ground instead. He's...

He'll get back to Joe on that one.

It's not often XB leaves the ship. He has one of the higher bounties out of all of them. Close to False's, and she actually deserves her's. He was terrified of her until she patiently taught him how to handle weapons, not once becoming frustrated as he struggled. She's still terrifying, but at least she's on his side.

Keralis was the one who pestered him out this time. The promise of buying extra fruit had tempted him into the supply run. He just needed a partner in crime (no leaving the ship without one) and pretty please, XB, pretty please?

So now XB is stood in the middle of a store, scanning the shelves and checking his half of the shopping list. He worries his lip, standing and catching a woman staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He continues searching, but her stare doesn't let up. He finally turns.

"Um, excuse me?" He asks, tilting his head in genuine concern. "Are you-" He doesn't expect her to surge forward, fury written on her face.

"If you weren't with those filthy Hermits I'd have you." The woman shoves his chest, forcing his back against the shelves. He blinks, fins flicking in defence.

"Wha-?"

"You go and you murder an entire planet. Don't show a bit of remorse. Then you run and hide behind them like a coward." XB can feel eyes on him now, the entire store falling silent at the exchange. He thinks he might be trembling. He can't quite tell. The woman is up in his face. His hand itches to take his eye protection off, gently put her to sleep and run. But there's witnesses, there's so many people and- "Maybe I should just do it right now. Consequences be damned." Her fingernails scratch into his armour, and he nearly falls as she pulls him forward.

"Oh, wow wow wow wow wow, ma'am." XB has never been more relieved to see Keralis. He steps in between them, blocking her from taking XB any further. "Could you unhand my friend, please? You're not being very nice." To XB's horror, she doesn't, nearly dragging him into Keralis as she gestures.

"What authority do you have?" She demands. "Defending a murderer like this, you should be ashamed of yourself." Keralis holds his hands up, ears twitching very slightly.

"XB is a perfectly good person. No murderer in him. And we'd like to leave, please." There's a threatening hint to Keralis's usually bright tone. The hand around his arm is finally released.

She storms away with a shout of, "You'll get what's coming to you!" XB's legs jellify beneath him. Keralis is quick to get an arm around his shoulders, holding him up.

"Come on, back to the ship with you. That's enough adventure for today." XB nods, resting briefly on Keralis's shoulders. With a bit of effort, he keeps himself steady enough to follow Keralis out of the store. He tries to ignore the eyes that follow them, the tightness it causes in his chest.

"What about the shopping?" His voice is quiet even to him. Keralis shakes his head.

"It's okay. Shishwamy will send someone else to do it. No worries." XB tries to let that comfort him but it only makes his anxiety worse. Once again, things are messed up because of him. This will put them off schedule, someone else will need to come out, and they'll all know it's because of him.

"Maybe," he starts, hesitating and continuing. "Maybe I shouldn't wear my suit when I come out." Keralis chirps in concern, keeping them at the edge of the busy streets.

"And why do you say that?" XB looks at his arm, at the deep colours and intricate patterns and mechanisms that make up the suit.

"It might be easier if people don't like, associate me with the Hermits when I'm in public." Keralis frowns, a big expression on his face. He squeezes the arm around XB's shoulders.

"XB, sweetiepie-" Keralis nudges his head against XB's. The hair tickles enough to make him gently laugh. "-If you don't want to wear your suit for your own safety, that's okay! But don't you go taking it off because you're afraid of making us look bad. No siree! You're a Hermit, XB, and we love you."

"That doesn't change people's opinions of me." Opinions so strong they're willing to threaten him in daylight, and nobody steps in. Keralis chitters.

"Doesn't change people's opinion of me either! But I know they won't be upset if we have to avoid a planet, or I can't attend a meeting. We care about you. And I'm sure there's lots of people out there who care about you too." XB can't bring himself to respond to that. He knows Keralis is discriminated against for being a banshee. But it's just...

It's not the same as being blamed for destroying an entire planet.

XB doesn't go out in public again for nearly a year.

"I can't believe this," Doc announces as he storms into the room. XB twitches, instinctively listening whilst he tries to focus on his book. He's tucked in the corner of the common room, buried in beanbags and mostly out of sight. He can see the wall of Cleo's hair move as she looks up.

"What's happened this time?" She asks, placing her book on the table. She moves her legs so Doc can sit down. It's been a busy few months for the ship. They've had new additions. Doc is one of them. He's fallen quickly into helping Xisuma with negotiations, managing their various relationships with other groups. XB is kinda terrified of him, actually. But he trusts Xisuma and his judgement. He wouldn't do anything to put them in danger.

"A group has dropped their support of us because of the latest drama." Doc collapses into the seat, leaning into the cushions. "I can't believe it, man." XB presses his mouth together, his fins pressing back. The latest drama being people remembering he exists as a Hermit. Some news came out about the planet he- he didn't destroy. He's been avoiding going online but, apparently it's inescapable.

"Seriously?" Cleo asks. She scowls behind her hair. "That's so stupid." Doc hums his agreement.

"I just don't get it." He throws his robotic hand up as he talks, leaning towards Cleo. "I mean, I've barely seen the guy, but he doesn't seem that bad. Not bad enough to make a campaign like this." XB swallows. He puts his book down in favour of squeezing his hands into his robe. Cleo sighs, nodding.

"He really isn't. I don't know why they keep dragging it up." She grabs one of her legs, pulling it up close to her. She leans on her knee. "You should've seen him when he first joined, Doc. Guy looked ready to accept his death."

"He doesn't even look capable of doing that to a planet-" XB almost chokes, standing and abandoning his book entirely.

"Sorry I'm- I'm just leaving." He wraps his arms around himself, ready to stumble out of the room.

Cleo is faster, jumping up and grabbing his arm, pulling him back with a stern, "XB." She pushes him between them, sitting him down and reclaiming her spot. XB ducks his head, tucking his legs up in front of him.

"XB, sorry man, I didn't realise you were in here." Doc sounds apologetic. He's looking at XB with worry, sat a careful distance away to avoid crowding him in. XB still finds him a frightening sight. The un-moving robotics bore into him.

"It's okay," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I would've found out eventually." Doc frowns.

"I meant talking about you like you weren't here," Doc says. "I'm not usually a gossip. Though I would've preferred to tell you more sensitively."

"If we knew they were gonna drop us over some false allegations, X wouldn't have allied with them to start with," Cleo tells him, crossing her arms as she sinks back.

"They don't really know it's false though," XB points out. "I mean, it's not like this isn't a ship of criminals." He can't help his glance at Doc as he says it. Thankfully, the former mafia leader takes no offence.

"I barely know you, XB, and even I can tell it's stupid." Doc's accented voice portrays his emotions well. "You seem like you've been a big help to the Hermits."

"He has been." Cleo pokes his legs with her foot. “You're a Hermit through and through, XB. No escaping it now."

"Everybody here has only good things to say about you, man. I'm proud to call you a crew mate. Who cares what anyone else thinks?" XB smiles, relaxing more onto his knees. It's nice to hear but-

He cares.

XB sighs as he flicks his fins back, fitting his helmet on snug and letting them pop into place. Keralis had to dip last minute, so XB is going to this meeting instead. He's not particularly intimidating, but hopefully he'll be able to defuse the situation if needs must. Two of the newer Hermits are coming as well. He watches as they suit up, making an odd pair. XB still isn't sure what to think of the group. Python vouched for them, but ex-Convex members? Especially such high ranking ones? And now one of them is going to a negotiation with them? Right.

"Is everybody ready?" Xisuma asks. There's a chorus of affirmatives. Doc stands next to Xisuma, files under his arms. "Let's get moving, then."

They keep as a tight unit, going over the plan once more. Xisuma and Doc will be doing the negotiating. XB and Wels, the other new Hermit, are there for protection. Scar, the ex-Convex, is there for luck. XB doesn't get it, and he's not going to ask.

The meeting falls apart from the moment they arrive, really. The crew they're meeting turn and whisper to each other, too quiet for XB's translator to pick up. Their admin steps forward, slit eyes threatening.

"You insult us," XB's suit translates. He can see Xisuma's suit plating shift as he tenses. He speaks in their language.

"I'm afraid I don't know where you're coming from," he replies, his voice controlled even in translation. Their admin steps closer. Any other person would've stepped away. Xisuma stands firm, Doc coming to his side.

"You bring a Convex member and a planet destroyer to our meeting." XB twitches, wanting nothing more than to sneak out of the room. "It is bad enough you grant them safety, but to have them in our negotiation?"

"Scar has denounced Convex, and the allegations against XB are false." Xisuma's voice is level, his posture not showing a hint of weakness. "Do you wish to negotiate or should we end this meeting here?"

"I recommend you leave with your lives while you can." XB shudders, fighting to stay still. He's thankful the helmet hides his expression.

"I recommend you don't threaten my crew." The temperature in the room drops with Xisuma's voice. The other admin steps back, eyeing them suspiciously. Xisuma turns to the Hermits, keeping an eye on the opposing crew. He nods. "We'll take our leave."

They exit at that, all of them keeping a watch that they aren't followed onto the ship. It's only when the door closes behind them that they relax. Wels darts to Scar's side. The ex-Convex collapses against the wall, trembling in his hold. XB looks away. That feels like something private. Definitely not something he'd expect from ex-Convex.

Apparently he's considered equivalent to the Convex. The thought makes him dizzy. Doc and Xisuma are already talking in low voices, recounting what happened and planning their next steps. XB is incredibly out of place. He glances around the room, trying not to feel jealous when he sees how close Scar and Wels are, how gentle Wels sounds, their helmets pressed together. XB swallows and slips out of the entrance hall before any of them notice.

He ignores anyone he passes until he reaches his room, closing the door behind him. His armour comes off, and he dives into the pool in the adjoining space. He sighs, lying face down in the water, barely feeling the fabric layer he left on. The liquid is a friendly pressure. Something comforting after all of... This. No matter what happens, he'll always have water.

Time passes as he lies there, blocking out the world outside the water. He tries not to think about how he's messed things up again. There isn't much else to think about, though. He doesn't understand why the Hermits keep him around when he causes so many problems. Lost deals, alliances, constant bad publicity. All tied to one person. Wouldn't it be easier to cut him off? XB could manage. Maybe he should do it for them.

"XB?" He jumps at the sound of an opening door, instinctively reaching up to cover his eye.

"Eye!" He calls, hearing the footsteps stop.

"Oh," Hypno's voice calls back. "Hold on, dude." XB follows the movement around his bedroom, until an object is placed in his hands with a pat. "There you go." XB pulls it over his eye, checking it's secure before looking. Hypno's crouched in front of him. He smiles, waving his fingers.

"How'd you know I was here?" XB asks, resting at the edge of the pool. Hypno sits down, not complaining about the wet floor.

"Guessed," he admits with a shrug. "They were worried when they realised you'd vanished." XB sighs, resting his chin on his arms.

"They seemed busy."

"Well, they are." Hypno nods in agreement. He crosses his legs so he can lean towards XB. "Xisuma doesn't want to stick around in case that crew turns hostile. But he was still worried about you."

XB frowns, "There's nothing to worry about."

"Is that why you're hiding in your pool?" Hypno asks. It's clearly not a question. XB slouches back into the water. "XB, it's not your fault, dude. You can't keep blaming yourself."

"Then who do I blame?" XB can't help but sound grouchy. If it weren't for him then that meeting might have worked out. Maybe they would've been fine with just Scar. Hypno leans back as he counts on his hand.

"The company for not taking responsibility, the management that decided to frame you, the other employees who were complicit, the news companies that were likely paid off, the ones that latched onto the story without researching it, the ones that keep bringing it up for quick clicks." Hypno turns to look at him. "Do I need to keep going?" XB shakes his head.

"I think I get the message," he replies. "But I'm not sure if it helps." Hypno nods without judgement.

"Then what do you think will?" He tries, instead. XB partially closes his eye to think about it.

"I'm not really sure." Hypno rubs his shoulder. The texture of dry skin helps ground him.

"That's okay." Hypno’s voice is friendly, reassuring. XB knows he's turned this into an impromptu therapy session. He thinks he needs it. "How about we try to work it out together? You're my friend, XB. I want you to be happy with us. I don't want you to feel guilty over things that aren't your fault." Hypno holds a hand out. "So, are you willing to work with me?" XB smiles, kicking up to meet his hand.

"Yeah. I think I can give it a shot."

They'd been outside, spending some time in the sunshine of the planet, then somebody-

XB squeezes his fins, continuing to pace the corridor outside the infirmary. Stress has closed the windows, needing to focus, and XB doesn't want to make anything worse. This is all his fault. Hypno's lying in there having emergency surgery because somebody wanted to kill XB. He finally falls against one of the walls as his legs give way, sliding to the floor with a quiet noise.

He formulates a plan in his head.

He's already been distant lately. This was the first time he'd hung out with Hypno in weeks, and look at what's happened. He can't be friends with people if he's going to hurt them. They'll understand. He hopes they'll understand.

He takes a deep breath.

His memories of the next hour are faint. He packs essentials into a bag. Leaves his suit and communicator neatly on his bed. He takes the emergency savings he keeps tucked away in his drawer, counting through without really taking it in. Though he writes a note, he doesn't remember what it contains. He thinks he stood in the doorway for a few minutes. Used some time to take in the room he's called home for so many years now. He really can’t remember.

Then he sneaks out, carefully unscrewing panels in the water filtration system, replacing them with care. He knows it like the back of his hand. He installed it, after all. The drop from the ship hurts his leg but nothing in his head registers it. He's lucky this is a big enough planet to park her. Means it'll be so much easier to get lost.

He wraps himself up in a coat, pulling it over his features. Some small part of him can't believe he's doing this. The Hermits are all he's known for years. They're his friends. But that's why it's so important he leaves. He survived on his own before. He can do it again.

He finds a room in a hotel for the night. The robotic receptionist doesn't question who he is, accepting the money and giving him the door key. He collapses onto the bed in a heap, realising he has no idea what he's going to do next. His plan kind of trails off here. Perhaps he'll hide out in this hotel until the ship leaves, but that's wasting money. It's probably better to head out for supplies, and get on a ship as far away as possible.

For today, he's exhausted enough to curl up under the covers and hide from the world. It doesn’t feel like he’s part of it right now, anyway.

There's a knock at the door.

He sighs, burying his face into the pillow. The knock only gets more insistent. Realistically, it's either the Hermits or somebody who's here to kill him. The fact they've not broken down the door yet suggests the Hermits. Well, the more responsible ones. XB keeps a hand on his eye strap either way. He's still in the rumpled coat.

He'll admit, he's surprised to see Xisuma in the doorway. The admin is wearing a cloak, his shadowed eyes nearly glowing in the darkness. He looks tired. When doesn’t he?

"Can I come in?" Xisuma asks, keeping his voice quiet. XB nods, stepping aside. If only because X should not be stood out in the corridor of some hotel in the same town someone tried to kill XB half a day earlier.

"I hope you're not here on your own," XB tells him, sitting on the bed. Xisuma finds a chair by the desk, sitting down tidily.

"Some of the others are nearby," Xisuma replies. "They checked it was safe first. Out of concern for you, as well." XB leans against the wall. "Hypno is okay, by the way. He was asking after you." XB sighs, tucking away into the coat.

"You're trying to make me feel guilty."

Xisuma shakes his head, "I'm letting you know. He was worried. We all were."

"He could have died because of me," XB doesn't try hiding it. Not from himself.

"Were you the one who shot him?" Xisuma asks. There's no change from his gentle tone.

"No, but-"

"Then you weren't the reason." XB knows, logically, that's true. He wasn't the one who fired on him. He didn't frame himself, all those years ago. It's just hard to prove that in his head. Not when the consequences are right in front of him. When he’s spent so long thinking about everything he could’ve done differently.

"It feels like I am," he says, tilting forward on the bed. "I don't want to make the people around me unsafe anymore. Any of the Hermits." Xisuma nods, sitting up in the chair.

"If you want to leave, I won't stop you." XB swallows. He really can just leave. Just... Go. "But I want you to consider if that's what you want to do. Not because you want to protect us. We can protect ourselves. Do you want to leave?" XB digs his fingers into his leg.

"I'm not sure." Does he want to leave? He wants to keep the others safe. He wants to stop giving the Hermits his bad reputation. But they're still his friends. His family. He doesn't want to leave them, but he doesn't see a compromise.

"XB." He automatically looks to Xisuma when he says his name. "I am truly sorry I never addressed this with you before. I'm sorry it's been affecting you for so long."

"It's not your fault," XB replies. Xisuma shakes his head.

"I should have done more for you. And I'm willing to offer that now." XB’s fins twitch in confusion. "What do you say we try and clear your name?"

"You don't need to do that for me."

"I want to. The others want to." Xisuma crosses the room, sitting down in front of XB. "That's what I'm offering. You can stay with us. We want you to stay with us. And we'll help you achieve this. However we can."

"Nothing that would put you in danger," XB corrects.

"Nothing that would put the Hermits in danger," Xisuma agrees. XB shuts his eye, considering what that would mean for him. It's not like everyone would believe it. It's not going to solve all his problems. But it's a start. He can't just- keep feeling guilty forever. He's so tired of it. "You're family, XB. We want you happy." XB nods, leaning forward. His body is heavy with relief. Xisuma welcomes him into his arms.

"Okay," he agrees, "I want the same."

XB pauses at the sound of loud shouting coming from the park. He turns, watching Keralis jump to the fence delighted. Hypno laughs, gently pulling XB to watch.

"You can't get me!" A girl yells, dark cornrows pulled into a bun. She climbs onto the play equipment, standing with confidence at the top. Another girl runs to the ladder, her hand held in mimic of a gun. Her blonde hair is done in a braid.

"You can't run forever!" She follows it up with loud 'pew's, hanging off the ladder as she pretends to shoot.

"Yeah, I can put you to sleep!" Another boy climbs up the slide, his brown hair falling into his eyes. Keralis is chirping in excitement, watching with a wide smile. The chirps attract the attention of the blonde. She gasps, losing her grip on the ladder and falling backwards.

Keralis makes a surprised noise. He jumps the fence, rushing to the girl's side. XB doesn't see any parents around, following with Hypno.

"Hey, little madam, are you okay?" Keralis asks, crouching down by the girl. She sits up, bouncing forward with glee.

"You're Hermits!" She cries, voice high and squeaky. The other two kids are peering at them around the play equipment. Their mouths hang open.

"We are!" Keralis agrees. "And what's your name?" The girl's hands spread out across the spongy playground floor.

"I'm Flora!" She grins. "I like it 'cause it starts with an 'F', like False." Keralis nods, offering his hands to stand the girl up again. She wobbles on her feet, spinning to show off her plait. “And we have the same hair colour! It’s so cool!”

"Yeah, False is really cool, isn't she?" Keralis watches with a carefully controlled smile. It’s cute how he tries not to scare them. She jumps, holding her arms out wide.

"She's so cool! She's my favourite."

"Not as cool as Stress!" The other girl calls, running into her friend's back. She nearly sends them both sprawling over again. "She helps people, no matter what! I want to do that." Hypno joins Keralis, pulling XB over with him.

"A very noble cause," Hypno tells her. "I'm sure you'll be amazing." She puts her hands on her hips with a grin.

"Yeah. I'm gonna be the best doctor you've ever seen."

"Yeah, but Stress doesn't have four arms," Flora points out, mimicking each style of weaponry. "How cool would that be?" Keralis laughs, a series of cheerful chirps escaping with it.

"They're both cool, how about that?" He suggests, before it turns into a full argument.

"What about you?" Hypno encourages, holding an arm out for the boy. "Do you have a favourite?"

"His favourite is XB," the dark haired girl says, pointing at him. XB places a hand on his chest, unable to contain a squeak of surprise.

"Me?" He checks, not quite able to believe that. The three nod their heads. They peer up at him in a semi-circle, with bright eyes and curious faces.

"You can put people to sleep like Hypno-" the boy points at him, "-But you got such a cool backstory!"

"Mm-hm!" Flora nods quickly. "Framed by an evil company, joining the Hermits to do good across the universe!" She poses towards the sky, pumping her fist and bending a leg up. XB laughs softly, finding himself hiding behind his hand.

"Oh, oh, oh!" The boy jumps forward, looking between Hypno and XB. "Can you put us to sleep? That would be so cool!" Hypno laughs at that, joined by Keralis's squeaky giggles.

"I don't think that would be smart." He pats the boy's hair, smiling at XB. "But, if you've got something for us to sign, we could do that?" The girl claps, grabbing Flora's hands excitedly.

"We've got our cards!" She shrieks. She grabs the boy's hand. "Ben, come on, let's get them!" The trio run off across the playground, digging in their bags. XB can see the look Hypno and Keralis are giving him. He smiles, ducking his head in embarrassment.

"Don't you two start," he warns, hiding behind his hands. Keralis leans over, gently wiggling one of XB's fins.

"You're his favourite," he teases, voice sing-song. XB laughs, hiding even further.

"Noooo," he whines. Hypno puts his arm around XB's shoulders, pulling him into a side hug.

"And they're smarter than the press," he tells XB, his voice trying to sound serious, but playful all the same.

"Much, much smarter!" Keralis agrees.

"Only 'cause of you guys," XB reminds them. Keralis takes XB’s other side, pinning him between his friends.

“Nah.” Keralis rubs his fist against XB’s head. “You’re just finally getting the love you deserve.”

“Absolutely.” Hypno tilts around so XB can see his smile. XB ducks his head, embarrassed. But the feeling doesn’t leave him. Not as they talk to the kids, signing their cards and telling them (child friendly) stories of their travels. Or amongst the loudness of the other Hermits. His family. He’s a Hermit. And the people who care about him are the ones who matter.

#space outlaws #space outlaws au #not gonna maintag this one lmao #my writing #tbh im just a sucker for ppl reassuring others #knowing you have a place somewhere #its good stuff #also u can somewhat track time passing across seasons by who appears lmao #and i liked the lil side things i snuck in #doc n cleo having bonded over similar histories #wels n scar having a bond #the forehead touch is becoming a thing #anyway enough rambling #hope yall enjoyed

164 notes · View notes

tipsydipsydo · 4 years

Text

Request: "Can I get an imagine with dom male reader x taekook, where the reader had a bad day and the boys cheer him up with fluff or some smut, thank you!"

Requested by: anonymous

Pairing: Sub! Taekook x Dom! Reader

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: 2k

Genre: Fluff (Idk? xD) and some Mentions of Smut at the End

Warnings: not really buuut the reader has a bad day and some anger outbursts; Swearing; a bit smutty content at the end; soft Dom-/Sub-Themes; sub! Taekook; Dirty Language; Dirty Talk

A/N: first Reader x Member Pairing request uhhhh~ 🥳

...and to the dear anon who requested this, I hope you'll be able to find this here! 😅💜

Links:

My Masterlist for your requests!

My official Blog Navigation

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Taehyung sighs and looks on the display of his smartphone for the sixth time in the last five minutes. Still no message from you, even though it's already 11:28 a.m. and the meeting should have started at 9:00 a.m.

Actually, this one today should only be clarifying the last questions and then the final contract should be signed, right? And that can't last more than two and a half hours when you had the deal with the potential investor already at the last meeting (more or less).

The company you work wanted to expand and enter a new part of industry, so they were looking for a possible investor. And your boss chose you to take over and lead the subsequent negotiations with the agency of the Investment Group!

This is an extraordinary compliment for you that your boss recognizes and appreciates your skills. He also said that, depending on how well you present the company to investors and able to manage and coordinate the whole process, you also have chances of being transferred to a higher position!

So you did everything, really everything, to convince the investors and to arrange the deal. You don't want that you've sat in the office late into the night and worked countless overtime hours for nothing, especially when there is a possibility of getting into a more attractive position and thus also better payment.

It looks like your efforts are paying off. Already at the first meeting, where you presented the company and the idea for the expansion, the investors were very interested and said at the end of the meeting that they would be very happy about a subsequent meeting.

In the weeks that followed, further meetings took place and hypothetical, but nevertheless very concrete planning approaches started then. The last meetings felt like the deal was already finalized and they're already discussing how the plan was actually implemented.

The boys were be happy for you and every time you had another successful meeting-day behind you, it proved, that the night shifts in the office seems to pay off.

They confirmed to you that the deal is almost completed and all you need now is just the investors' signatures on the formalities.

Well, that's what you want to get today.

Despite all the optimism, Jungkook and Tae are getting more and more worried about it because you still haven't told them about the good news (they can't be any other way)!

After all, signing contracts doesn't take three hours?? Then finally, at 11:47 a.m. comes the redeeming "Ping!" simultaneously from your two boyfriends smartphones.

Kookie and Tae make a competition out of 'who can unlock his phone faster and with it, congratulate you for the successful deal'. Kookie is the first one who enters your shared group chat. But his smile disappears as he reads your short message. It may be short, but Jungkook has to read it several times to really understand the meaning behind it.

You [11:47 a.m.]: The deal is off.

"W-What ... What the-", comes over Jungkook's lips. In this moment, Tae is faster than Jungkook and he’s the one who respond to your message first.

Tae♡ [11:48 a.m.]: What?? Why?! How they could choose against the deal?! I mean, you said the deal is as good as made and they were insterested right at the beginning?

You [11:49 a.m.]: Fuck, I don't know it?! They just said, "there are some logistical problems and expectation differences betweem their comany and ours" and "that we couldn't solve them together even after new discussions and compromises". That's why they said the deal is off and simply dropped us. I can't believe it, everything went so good until now, WHY the fuck they decided against us?!?!

You [11:49 a.m.]: They said there would be some 'expectional disagreements' ...did they mean that the financials? That the certain sum of money they've to invest into our new project is too high? But then there are always possibilities for discussions and new compromises?! God, that fucks me so up! I want to know what their goddamn problem is!

You're sitting in the company's cafeteria and are trying to calm yourself down before the lunch break will ends. So that you can return to your work desk with a more or less cleared mind and somehow are able to survive the afternoon.

You thought, after the incompleted deal and your chance to get promoted was wasted, your day couldn't actually get any worse.

Well yeah, it's possible.

You know that when David turns around the corner and looks at you with a big spiteful smirk, apparently he has already heard about the news. This asshole is not even trying to hide his satisfaction about your dropped deal.

Of course, like every damn time you have to meet him in the building, he has to leave his very personal comment on it. You don't know why you were punished for having to work with him in the fucking same department?!

"Hm? I heard that the meeting didn't went so well, after all the investors jumped off. But it was already foreseeable that it won't work anyway. I don't understand why Mr. O'Brien chose you of all people for the Management of the investment-coordination for this project.", just when you hear these first words, the anger in you starts to grow in lightning speed.

"I mean, let's be honest and that's what I'm gonna say is not meant to be rude, I just want to give you a little helpful tip. I assume that everyone in our Department will agree with the fact that you still have to work on your presence. If you want to get an investor interested in a project so that they're willing to provide financial resources, then you have to sell the deal with ambition, self-assurance and self-confidence. Investors need to know what your concrete plan is, that you're standing 100% behind that project and that it'll be profitable for everyone!"

"I think you lack a little bit of dominance and assertiveness, you should work on that urgently. Yeah, you can be submissive in your own bedroom when it's that what you like, but in the tough economic world you have to be able to assert yourself. That's just a tip from me. Despite the disaster, have still a nice day~", he said in a mocking tone, patting you on the shoulder and then going whistling to the food display of the cafeteria.

You need a moment to realize what exactly this bastard shamelessly said into your face. He doesn't know that you're the Dom in the relationship, he just wanted to put a little more salt in the open wound of your injured pride. And that hit a dangerously sore point. How dare this bastard to say that you're the submissive part in the bedroom?!

You're about to go after him and become verbally abusive, you won't let yourself be offered such a talking shit! But you know it better, you would only make things worse if you stand out negatively now through emotionality. You already know that this action would only confirm David in his opinion about you. When you behave unprofessionally now, everyone could think that you are unable to deal with defeats. So you try to swallow your anger and frustration as best you can down and just ignore David for the rest of the day. Even when you really want to punch him into the face.

However, to give the anger at least some space, you complain frustrated to your two darlings about everything. They listen to you patiently and rebuild the image about yourself again. But also plead to you, to please don't do any crap mindlessly, led by emotions.

You're really glad when you can finally finish work and end this catastrophic day.

When you open the door, the pleasant warmth of the apartment welcomes you and a delicious, all too familiar smell rises in your nose.

These two things alone make you feel as if something heavy has been removed from your shoulders. You take a deep breath and really feel how you return to your inner peace.

You are at home, nobody can strain your nerves anymore, only your two beloved boyfriends are waiting for you.

It seems like they've prepared something for you, so that at least the evening of today will be better than everything else before. Jungkook is at the stove and is cooking your favorite dish. You wrap your arms from behind around him and give him a gentle kiss in the crook of your neck, letting his scent soothe you. When you also feel the warmth of Taehyung on your back, everything is suddenly not as bad as you first thought.

The boys bought your favorite wine for your favorite dish, which makes the dinner perfect. It looks like Taehyung is about to get up to get the dessert or so, when he stops and looks at you with a nervous but excited smile. On Jungkook's cheeks, you can see a hint of a blush too. You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"W-Well... when you texed us that you don't know if you can control yourself around David, to not punching him right into the face... Jungkook and I thought there are other and much better ways to reduce stress and anger... We... well... before you came home, Kookie and I p-prepared each other for you... and right now... we're both wearing your favorite plugs. We thought you'd rather pounding your anger and frustration in us than having problems at work. So... please use us as your stress reliever.", said Taehyung, biting his lower lip, looking at me in a kinda... begging manner? Hmm, seems like there is someone who wants to be fucked hard and rough~

"S-Sir, please dominate me. Own me. Make me to your whining and begging sub...", Jungkook whispers with dark red cheeks. You see the lust and excitement in his dark, dilated pupils, to get used and to take your anger and frustration without any complain.

God, your boys are just perfect. They know exactly how to behave in order to make their master proud.

"It's really the case that you want to be used ad my stress reliever, completely selflessly? Even when I think that this 'reason' just came up to you perfectly, so that you didn't have to beg to get fucked hard and without any mercy again. Hmm, am I right?"

The way Taehyung and Jungkook are blushing and stuttering furiously confirms your guess.

"Such needy horny Boys I have here. Tz tz tz... Come, let's see what I should do to my Babies when they're so greedy for my cock and a rough fuck...", you chuckle devilishly when you go with them to your shared bedroom.

The next day.

You [09:12]: Hey Darlings~ I have really great news! I got my promotion despite of the unfinished deal! My boss was very pleased with the huge amout of work I put in this project and he assured me, that it wasn't because of my negotiation strategy that the investors dropped the deal. There seem to be some internal problems in the Investment Group at the moment, which is why they can no longer support projects at the moment. And guess what I've been promoted to... I've become department head and that means I'm now David's boss! I think now we both can discuss who has to work on his assertiveness ... 😏😈

You [09:15 a.m.]: And I hope you're okay and your precious asses are not too sore~ love you ❤

235 notes · View notes

sassyduckqueen · 4 years

Text

Can’t Help Falling In Love- Lukanette

This is based on the song 'Can't help falling in love with you' and a myth I read about the sun and the moon. In the story, the sun and the moon are a couple and the moon inspires the sun to make plants but she gets no thanks and the more the sun is thanked, the bright it gets but the brighter it gets, the harder it is to see the moon. She's hurt by this as she feels lonely and ignored. One day, she stays out on earth and the sun goes home. There she meets the darkness, falls instantly in love with her and wants to make her happy. He suggests humans should exist and on the first night of their existence, he scares them. The second night, he invites her to join him and the humans praise the moon for her light. She feels like she's just as important as the sun and realizes she's in love with the darkness. She breaks up with the sun and marries the darkness as he was the one willing to sacrifice himself so she could feel important.

So in this, Adrien is the sun and the plants are his fans, Marinette is the moon, the genius behind the sun but ignored and Luka is the darkness, who allows her to take his limelight so she can feel important and loved.

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

"Look it's Adrien Agreste!" A few girls screamed as Adrien walked by them and waved. Holding onto his arm was his girlfriend, Marinette. As smart as she was beautiful, she was the genius behind his current look. She had designed his outfits and put all of her time and effort she could into them. She painstakingly hand-sown on the details of the little cat and pieced together the beads around his neck. He smiled as he waved as his fans screamed and cried before they walked over to the interviewer.

"Wow, Adrien. I love the new outfit," Alec Cataldi stated as he held the microphone to Adrien. "Is it one of your father's pieces?"

"My father and I are branching out and trying out next outfits by new designers," He stated.

"Awesome and who is this lovely young lady on your arm tonight?" He asked and Marinette was sure he meant nothing by it but it bothered her that he said tonight. Adrien, however, laughed and flipped his hair.

"Oh, this is just Marinette," He stated in a matter of a fact way. "She's a great friend and inspiration to me,"

The words stung like someone had poured acid in a wound but she kept a brave face and walked with him as he waved to his fans, blowing them kisses. She frowned to herself. While everyone saw him, no one truly saw her but she said nothing for she knew that he had always been destined to shine. As the night went on, the party grew tiresome and the two of them leave. Adrien had his driver drop her off home and promised to be around tomorrow. She nodded to herself and made her way into her apartment above the Bakery. She put her coat down and stroked the ears of her cat, Tikki before freeing herself from her dress and changing into something more comfortable before she took out her moment recent project and began to sew to herself as she hummed softly. The feeling of the needle going through the material relaxed her but this time, she didn't feel her worries melt away. She loved Adrien. She loved him with all her being. She didn't doubt that. She had done since she'd first met him and even though it took him years to notice her, she remained loyal to him, never looking at another boy. He had finally asked her out a few months ago and she instantly said yes. And what bliss had it been. They were the talk of the town. The model and the designer. Their work together was killer and she was proud to call herself his girlfriend but recently, it had been going down hill. The more he wore her designs, the more he shined but the more he shined, the more she became invisible. She didn't mind that he wore her outfits but he never directly said they were hers and every time, she was with him, the same words came out of his mouth. 'This is just Marinette. She's a great friend'. There was never 'this is my girlfriend. She designs these clothes I'm wearing' or 'This beautiful lady is my queen'. Not that she expected something like that. She just wanted him to appreciate her. She sighed to herself and put her project away before going to bed.

~A Few Days Later~

"Hey, Marinette. Can you get me a skinny latte pronto?" Adrien asked as he read the latest issue of Vogue Paris, which he had a photoshoot with a day ago. Marinette looked up from the dress she was scoring with an annoyed look. He was sat the dress with his feet up. "Anytime soon would be good,"

"Get it yourself," She stated, a little snapper then she meant. He lowered the magazine and looked at her with surprise. "What?"

"Why you been all bitchy? I just asked you to get me a latte," He gasped, frowning. She straightened up and gave him a look.

"And all I said was get it yourself. You have two legs that work perfectly fine, don't you?" She replied, making him frown.

"I'm busy," He stated, causing her to roll her eyes.

"I'm also busy or have your eyes stopped working?" She asked, folding her arms. "Miss Bourgeois wants her dress finished tonight so I have to get it done, meaning I don't have time to go on an errant for you and I'm also not your PA so either get it yourself or get someone else to get it,"

"Geez, I get it. No need to bite my head off," He rolled his eyes as he got up and headed out of the room. Marinette sighed and went back to pinning the dress. Hopefully, he'll be in a better mood when he comes back but he wasn't. He slammed down his coffee and consciously made passive aggressive remarks. She finally slams down her kit and face him. "What?"

"What the hell is your problem?!" She asks, making him frown.

"Nothing!" He gasped.

"Really? Cause you're acting like you have a problem!"

"The only problem I have is that you're acting like a spoil brat!" He gasped, making her frown. "It's like since I got more famous and known, you've gotten more jealous,"

"I'm not jealous!" She screamed. "I'm hurt that you act like I don't exist because since you've got famous, it's like I don't exist!"

"That's what you're upset about?!" He gasped like she had said something trivial, making her frown. "I thought you were more mature then that, Marinette,"

"Get out!" She screamed as tears filled her eyes. He grabbed his jacket and coffee then left the room, rolling her eyes. She finally let her tears fall as she fell to the floor. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed. It's like he didn't see her anymore and that she was completely invisible to him but not just him. Her friends are always paying him attention, her family are always singing his graces and the other designers ignore that the clothes he wears are hers. To her, it felt like the more people gave him attention, the less and less she saw. She felt lonely and useless but more then anything, she wondered if he loved her anymore. More tears fell as she wasn't sure what the answer was.

(***)

"Yes! I love it!" The photographer called out as Adrien posed and smiled. His fans screamed and cheered as they watched as he threw a charming grin at the camera, completely ignoring Marinette as usual. He smiled brightly and Marinette felt sorrow. The more his fans screamed, the more lonely she felt. She didn't understand how she could feel so lonely, given how many people were around but she felt close to been nothing and Adrien was completely ignoring it. He acted like their disagreement hadn't happened and when she bring it up, he made her feel like it was her fault. "Aah no! We're losing the sun!"

"That's ok. We got some excellent photos today," Adrien replied as he looked at them on the photographer's computer. The photographer and his team packed up as Adrien turned to Marinette. "Time to go. I'll have you dropped off at home,"

"No," She stated, not looking up from her notepad. He frowned deeply.

"What?"

"I said no," She stated, finally looking up at him.

"What do you mean no? How are you gonna get home?"

"I'll do what I did before I met you and get the subway," She replied, going back to her drawing. He frowned deeply.

"Fine!" He growled a little before turning on his heel and leaving. Marinette let out a sigh of relief and continued to draw the street lights came on and the sun set. She hummed softly to herself as she drew, losing herself in the zone. When she next looked up, she realized the night had settled in completely now and that she should probably go home. She packed up her things and began to make her way to the subway but the sound of music caught her attention. She looked to her side and saw a man not much older then her stood in the street, playing a guitar and singing softly as a few people stood around, listening to his music. She slowly wondered over as he finished playing his song. The small crowd clapped as he grabbed his water and took a drink. Marinette couldn't really see him as he knelt down and changed the settings on his amp. A few people stepped away as he straightened up and started to play his guitar, re-tuning it. Marinette found herself intrigued by the mysterious guitarist. His hair was short and black with teal blue highlights. His hoodie matched and his black jeans were ripped. He finished tuning his guitar and looked up. Instantly, his eyes met hers. A soft but seductive smile came across his lips and a mysterious twinkle danced in his teal blue eyes. Marinette felt her cheeks burn a little as he looked at her before he started to play his guitar. The song sounded familiar but it wasn't until he started to sing that she recognized it. He stepped close to the microphone as he looked at her before his voice came through.

"Wise men say only fools rush in," His voice sounded like it was from the heavens above. It was soft and gentle yet full of the mysteries of the night. It brought a shiver to Marinette's spine but one of pleasure and joy. "But I can't help falling in love with you,"

He looked directly at her as he sung.

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin if I can't help falling in love with you?" A few more people joined them as he sang softly, playing his guitar skillfully. She honestly felt like she was the most important thing in the world right now. She didn't know how he did it but it felt like she was the only thing he could see. He paid no attention to the other people who were watching as he sang softly. "Like a river flows surely to the sea, Darling so it goes some things are meant to be,"

He stopped singing as he played a bit of a solo, looking down at his guitar so he could focus on his music. Marinette closed her eyes as she listened to the notes.

"Take my hand, take my whole life too," The sound of his voice made her open her eyes again. Once again, those teal eyes connected with hers and she honestly felt like it was just him and her. Like there was no one else around. She felt all of her sorrow and pain wash away in a sea of music as he continued his song. "For I can't help falling in love with you,"

He stopped playing his guitar before holding the mic as he leaned closer to it.

"Like a river flows surely to the sea," He sang without the music. "Darling so it goes some things are meant to be,"

A few girls swooned as he sang softly before he started to play again. Marinette listened intensely.

"Take my hand, take my whole life too for I can't help falling in love with you," He sang, moving his eyes across back to her. "For I can't help falling in love with you,"

The song came to an end and everyone around clapped, bringing Marinette into reality. He smiled and thanked people as they put change and notes into his guitar case. Marinette took out a couple of spare coins and walked over. He nodded to a gentleman, who had given him €20. He looked up as she put the change into his guitar case and smiled softly at her before his eyes landed on her sketch pad.

"Are you an artist?" He asked, nodding to it. Her face blushed as she realized what he meant.

"Oh, not really," She mumbled, looking away shyly as she pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He frowned softly to himself as he looked at her. "Um,"

"You look really familiar to me," He mumbled, grinning before clicking his fingers. "Aren't you the sweetheart of that model Adrien Agreste?"

Instantly, her face dropped as he said that, making him frown before holding up his hands.

"Sorry. I didn't meant any offence by that," He mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm not very good with words,"

"T-that's ok," She mumbled. "But yes, I am the girlfriend of Adrien Agreste,"

She held out her hand to him.

"My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,"

"Luka Couffaine," He smiled, shaking it before pulling away as he began to clearing up his stuff as people walked by. "Did you like the song by the way?"

"I did. It was by Elvis originally," She mumbled, making him smile.

"Didn't peg you for an Elvis girl,"

"Who doesn't like Elvis? He's the king," She scoffed as he took the money out of his guitar case and put it into bags. "Do you want a hand?"

"No, I'm good thank you," He smiled before placing the bags into his rucksack before packing away his microphone into a case. He placed his guitar in it's case and put the rucksack on. "I have to get going but if you're interested, I play this spot every night,"

"Is that an invitation, Mr Couffaine?" She asked but he didn't answer. He just smiled in a mischievous way that made her heart skip a beat before he disappeared into the night. Marinette let out a soft sigh before she headed to the subway.

(***)

Marinette found herself coming back to that spot where Luka played under the night sky every night and his music relieved her off her sorrow but every time she left, her loneliness came back. After a particular bad argument with Adrien, Marinette came to Luka's spot a little bit late. He was just packing up and looked a little sad but as soon as he saw her, a smile came across his face and his eyes lit up but it didn't last long. He dropped his rucksack and rushed over to her when he saw the tears rolling down her face.

"Marinette, what's wrong?" He gasped but she didn't answer. Her lip trembled and more tears fell down her face. He brought her into his arms and rubbed her back. "It's ok,"

She sniffed and wiped her eyes before looking up at him.

"I'm s-sorry," She mumbled, looking down.

"Don't be," He replied, looking at her with a soft look. Marinette felt a blush come over her face as she looked away shyly. "Look, I have to drop these back at home-"

He nodded to his equipment.

"But if you'd like to join me, we could go grab a coffee at mine and talk about whatever you want. Sound good?"

"T-That sounds g-great," She sniffed, smiling a little. She went to grab one of his cases but he smiled, picking them up. She walked with him as he began to walk towards the Seine.

"I should warn you. I live on a boat," He states, looking at her seriously.

"That doesn't surprise me if I'm honest," She smiled as he turned onto the boat. She looked and smiled at the name. "The Liberty huh?"

"Ah, I didn't name her," He smiled, offering her his hand. She took it and he helped her onto the deck before they headed downstairs. Marinette looked around as Luka put his musical gear away. She smiled softly to herself as she looked around. It was a cosy place with a simple but homely feel. An brown sofa that had seen better day was opposite a TV and the kitchenette was small and yet it felt more alive then she had seen in a long time. It was the complete opposite of Adrien's apartment. Adrien's place was perfect. Not a single thing was out of place and it was in a minimalist design. It was black and white in it's color scheme and Adrien's OCD helped keep it tidy. Luka's boat on the other hand was what one might call a little messy. Music scores were scattered around, along with several musical instruments and a few drawings were pinned to the walls, along with a couple of photos. There was a couple of mugs on the coffee table. Marinette smiled a little before walking over to the photos. She recognized Luka instantly but the two women next to him didn't seem familiar. "That's my mum and sister,"

She jumped at little as he came over.

"Juleka is currently in America with her fiance, Rose," He stated. "And Mum is on tour,"

"Your mum's a musician too?"

"Kind of. She has her own unique shows. She mixed music with comedy," He smiled. "The Liberty use to belong to her. She gave it to me when I turned 18 and she moved in with her husband,"

"That must of been quite the scene changer. From a boat to a house," Marinette mumbled but he laughed softly. "What?"

"I never said she moved into a house," He replied, taking out his phone and showing her a picture of a huge tour bus. "That's the Liberty mark 2,"

Marinette stared in shock before looking at him.

"She moved into a tour bus?"

"Yep," He grin, looking fondly at the pictures. He pointed to a picture of him, his sister and two others. "That was my first band. I was the guitarist, Jules was the bassist, Rose was the leader singer... that's her... and that big guy was our drummer, Ivan,"

"What were you called?"

"Kitty Section," He smiled. "We use to sing songs about Unicorns and fluffy bunnies,"

"Seriously?" She asked, looking at him.

"Yeah," He grinned. "Rose was also the song writer and as you can tell, she loved the color pink,"

Marinette couldn't help but laugh a little as Luka smiled down at her. Marinette moved around and noticed a cloth over a cuboid object. She looked over at him and raise an eyebrow.

"That is Sass' tank," He replied.

"Who or what is Sass?"

"My snake," He smiled, lifting the cover off, revealing the beautiful snake. "I put them on while I go out so he doesn't realize I'm out. I worry that he'll get lonely if he realizes,"

"That is adorable," She smiled. "Can I meet him?"

"Hmm, once I've fed him," He replied, walking over to the kitchenette. He picked up the kettle and filled it up with water before putting it on to boil before going into his freezer and taking out a small sealed box. He walked over to the tank and took out a frozen mouse before opening it and put it into the cage. Marinette watched with fascination as the snake devours the dead mouse. Luka put the mice back and looked over at her. "You know most girls would be freaked out by that,"

"I'm not like most girls," She smiled softly, looking over at him.

"I'll say," He replied. "So coffee, tea or hot chocolate?"

"Hot chocolate please,"

"One Luka Couffaine hot coco special coming up," He grinned, grabbing two mugs and making them one each. A few minutes later, he came over and placed one of the mugs in front of her. Cream covered the top and it had sprinkles onto top of it. He placed his down next to hers and sat down so he was facing her. "So what do you want to talk about?"

"How you learnt to make an amazing looking hot chocolate?" She smiled, picking hers up and taking a sip. "Wow,"

"I work part time as a barista during the day," He explained. "So I know how to make a mean latte and hot chocolate,"

"This is really good," She mumbled, sipping it again. He picked up his and took a sip. "So how long you been playing guitar?"

"Since I was a little kid," He replied, putting his cup down. "Look, can I ask you something?"

"Well, you just did," She smiled cheekily, making him playfully roll his eyes. "But you can ask something else?"

"Why were you crying?" He asked but instantly regretted as her eyes filled with sorrow. "Never mind. I shouldn't have asked,"

"I feel invisible," She mumbled, making him frown as he looked over.

"What do you mean?"

"I probably sound jealous and petty but since Adrien has gotten more popular, it's like he's forgotten who I am," She mumbled, looking down. "He doesn't treat me like his girlfriend anymore. When we first got together, he was constantly acting like I was a queen. He was kind and sweet and he made me feel wanted and loved. We shared an common interest as we both loved fashion and we thought it would be amazing for me to design some clothes for him and for him to wear them to red carpet events but he stopped telling people they were made by me, he started to flirt with his fans and was more bothered about the media coverage then me. At the red carpet events, when the press asked who I was, he would say stuff like 'oh, that's just Marinette. She's a great friend'... it's like he's ashamed to be seen with me and he acts like such a child when he doesn't get his way. We had an argument a few days before I met you. I was busy making a new outfit and he demanded that I go get him a latte. His literal words were 'hey, get me a skinny latte pronto'. Honestly, I don't care that he wanted a latte. What hurt was that he talked to me like I was nothing and expected me to drop everything when he was sat there with his feet up, doing nothing while I was trying to make a dress for my client. He had a go at me for telling him to get it himself,"

"He doesn't deserve you," Luka mumbled, making her look at him. He blushed and looked away. "I um... just ignore me,"

"Luka, are you blushing?" She asked with a slight tease in her voice. He cleared his throat and sipped his drink. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure,"

"Why did you play Elvis the night I met you?" She asked, causing him to blush again.

"Um... I p-play wh-what I feel," He mumbled, shyly.

"It was 'Can't help falling in Love'," She stated before looking forward. "I like spending time with you,"

"You do?"

"Yeah... maybe it's selfish but I don't feel invisible when I'm around you," She mumbles. "I feel important,"

"You are important," He smiled. Marinette felt her heart skip a heart beat as he looked at her with a look that she could only describe as pure love. He looked away and finished his drink. "Do you want to hold Sass?"

"Sure,"

(***)

Luka pushed open the door of the night club. He looked around and instantly spotted Marinette, who was dressed in a short black dress and leaning against the bar. A girl with red hair was with her. He walked over and Marinette instantly jumped up, grinning as she saw him. Her friend stood up as he walked closer.

"Lu-Luka!" She slurred, stumbling forward. He caught her and helped her stand straight.

"Wow, Marinette. You're wasted," He mumbled, worry covering his face. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Hmm, you sme-smell really nice," She grinned. "You know I really like you, Luka! Like super like you,"

"That's nice but you're really drunk," He frowned as she leaned to kiss him. He gently pushed her away enough to stop her from kissing him. He really liked her and he had been thinking about kissing her since he met her but not like this. He would never take advantage of her or anyone. She frowned a little before he turned to her friend. "Thanks for calling me,"

"I figured you were the safe choice," She stated. "Giving that Adrien is the reason why she's pissed out of her skull,"

He frowned softly as she giggled.

"I'll get her home," He replied, gently putting his arm around her waist. "Come on, Marinette,"

"Lukaaaa. Can you sing me a song?" She huffed as he led her out of the night club and hailed a cab. "I think your voice is really sexy,"

"And I think you're very drunk and don't mean that," He states, getting her in. "What's your address, melody?"

"The Tom and Sabina bakery!" She called to the taxi driver before giggling to Luka. "I secretly live in a bakery. Don't tell anyone,"

"I won't," He smiled softly as she curled up to him as the taxi drove to the bakery.

"H-hey, why didn't you kiss me back?" She asked, looking up at him.

"Because you're drunk and I'm not that kind of guy," He states, looking at her.

"Awww! You're always so nice, Luka!" She grinned. "Such a gentleman!"

"I do try," He smiled as she started to hum. His eyes went wide as she hummed Can't Help Falling In Love. Slowly, it came to a stop and he looked down, only to see her eyes closed and her breathing slow and soft. He ran his fingers through her hair as the taxi went through traffic. It pulled up outside the bakery and Luka paid him before gently waking up Marinette. "We're here,"

"M'kay," She mumbled, sleepily. He helped her out of the car and the taxi drove off. She wondered to the side door and tried to find her keys in her back. Luka gently took it off and found them instantly before he unlocked the door. She grinned sleepily and went to head up the stairs but almost tripped. He caught her and closed the door behind them before helping her up the stairs.

"Which one is your room?"

"That one," She grinned. "You wanna join me?"

"Not tonight," He replied, opening the door. He helped her onto the bed and took off her shoes before taking off her necklace.

"But where are you gonna sleep?"

"I'll just head back to the Liberty," He smiled but she grabbed his hand and sorrow filled her eyes.

"Please stand," She mumbled, tears in her eyes. "I don't want to be alone,"

"Alright but I'm gonna sleep on the sofa," He stated, gently getting her into bed. He moved the cover over her and gently kissed her hair. She pretty much felt asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. He smiled softly and leave the room before settling on the sofa.

(***)

Marinette woke up with a hang over from hell. She was tired, achy and she knew she had been really drunk last night. She got up and noticed she was still in her party dress so she headed into the bathroom and took a shower before getting dressed. She wondered into the living room and saw Luka asleep on her sofa. Memories of last night flashed back into her mind and she felt her face heat up at how she had tried to kiss him yet he had pushed her away and taken her home. She owed him thanks and an explanation. Looking over at him as he slept, her heart sang a beautiful song she hadn't heard in a long time and like that, her feelings for Adrien and her feelings for Luka had became quite clear to her. She was no longer in love with Adrien Agreste and had fallen in love with Luka Couffaine. She jumped a little as he stirred. Those beautiful teal eyes stared up at her and she was pretty sure she had died and gone to heaven.

"Hey, you're up," He smiled softly, sitting up. She walked over and sat next to him.

"I'm sorry about last night,"

"That's ok but why were you so drunk?"

"I found out Adrien had cheated on me," She replied, calmly. Luka frowned. "I got drunk because I thought it would hurt to face it. I should be hurt and angry but really.... I don't feel anything,"

"Maybe you're just blocking it out?"

"No. I think the reason why I don't feel is because I know the truth," She mumbled. "Me and Adrien stopped loving each other a long time ago. Our love is dead but I don't know if I can end it. I don't know who I am without him. All these years, I have loved him so much and now that love-"

"Marinette," He stated, pressing his fingers to her lips. "Come to the Grand Paris Hotel tomorrow at 6pm ok?"

"O-ok,"

(***)

Marinette walked around nervously as she looked for Luka. She spotted him talk to someone. He looked really nice, dressed in a suit. He looked over and waved. She walked over and smiled at him as a few people came over.

"Luka, who is this charming young lady?" Marinette recognized the man as a famous musician. She half expected him to do exactly what Adrien did and introduce as 'just Marinette'.

"This beautiful melody is my muse," He smiled softly at her. She blushed a little at his introduction. "Without her, I would be lost in a world of darkness,"

Another blush lit across her face as Luka gently kissed her hand.

"In fact, I believe you're familiar with her clothing label, Miraculous," And like that, she was the center of attention. People were asking her where she got her wild ideas from and she felt important. She looked over and saw Luka, smiling softly at her like she was the most beautiful creature in the room and she realized to him, she was. A blush came across her features as he looked at her with pure admiration and love.

"Marinette?" The familiar voice of Adrien knocked her out of her thoughts. She frowned softly. "I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you'd be slaving away on another dress,"

"Well, I'm not," She frowned, looking at the young woman on Adrien's arm. She was younger, prettier and more refined then Marinette. "Replacing me already?"

"Well, since you didn't answer your phone, I had to improvise," He rolled his eyes but Marinette sighed.

"Adrien, I didn't answer my phone because I'm done," She states. "I'm done with your drama, with your father, with your expectations but mostly, I'm done with you. It's over, Adrien Agreste. Goodbye,"

With that, she turned on her heel and walked over to Luka. Adrien frowned but made no attempt to win her back, confirming her theory but Luka had done something for her that Adrien never did. He let her be herself.

"You let me take the limelight..." She mumbled. "Why?"

"You deserve to shine,"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything you want,"

"How long have you been in love with me?"

"Since the moment I saw you in the crowd," He replied, honestly before taking her hand in his. "I can't help falling in love with you,"

#lukanette #adrienette #marinette dupen chang #luka couffaine #adrien agreste #moon #sun #dark #elvis presley #music #musician #aged up #luka is sweet #adrien is an ass #marinette deserves better #myth #Pro LukaMari

567 notes · View notes

nobodyfamousposts · 5 years

Text

Gabriel’s Lament

Posting this here in reference to the previous ask, and because I apparently neglected to do so before.

________________________________

Be careful what you wish for. Wasn’t that the old saying? He hadn’t considered it before—never bothered to in the face of his wish. Because how could saving someone so wonderful and pure be a poor choice? How could acting out of love be wrong?

He had gotten his wish and seemed all the better for it. His wife was alive and by his side. His son was safe and had no secret life as a superhero nearly getting himself killed on a regular basis. And with his family whole and as it should be, Gabriel had no need to become a villain. He had no need for any Miraculous. As such, he had no concern that the Butterfly Miraculous was no longer in his possession—and may not have fallen into his possession in the first place. He had no need for it, after all. His wish was granted, his life was complete, and he finally felt satisfaction.

He was able to maintain that satisfaction for two months before it all started to fall apart.

A super villain appeared. One with the ability to turn people into monsters. One bearing the symbol of a butterfly. One calling himself Hawk Moth.

Only it wasn’t Gabriel.

He should have acted sooner. He should have thought things through. He had been too caught up in his own happiness that he hadn’t considered the full effects of the changes.

He got what he wanted. But it didn’t stay that way.

His wife was alive, but he was constantly at risk of losing her again with each time she tried to resolve the latest upset. Since she didn’t suffer her previous fate, she remained a hero and was regularly putting herself in danger to fight akumas that were no longer at his command.

His son wasn’t Chat Noir, which he had initially found relief in. But without the protection of the Miraculous, Adrien was more susceptible than Gabriel had realized, and he was now terrorizing Paris as an akuma under the mask of Chat Blanc while his wife desperately attempted to free him.

There was no Ladybug to hinder his plans, but now that they were complete, there was no Ladybug to save anyone and restore order either.

He no longer had the Butterfly Miraculous—or any Miraculous for that matter. He was forced to watch from the sidelines as his wife and son fought each other—completely incapable of doing anything and leaving him with a sense of powerlessness that he hadn’t felt since losing Emilie the first time.

He thought he had won. He HAD won. He had finally gained both Miraculous and used their combined power to complete his one goal. After all of that effort, after all that heartache, he thought that was the end of it. But it’s never that easy, is it? He’d gotten his wish, but not how he wanted. This new life was a mess. His family was in tatters. He was helpless to act.

And the only thing worse was being stuck here with the cat.

“I can hear you, you know.”

God, he hated that cat.

“You’re not on my list of top favorite people either, buddy.”

The kwami was much different than Nooroo had been. It was snarky and all too eager to delight in his misfortune. Where Nooroo was gentle and submissive, this new kwami was more direct in its vocalization of disagreement with Gabriel’s choices and much more inclined to act if it didn’t like them. When it wasn’t causing chaos in its disruptions and so called ‘accidental bad luck’, it was being infuriatingly lazy—particularly when it came to finding a solution to this nightmare they were both trapped in. One would think the creature would care about its former holder.

“Funny.” The creature had snapped back at him. “I would have thought the same of you about your son.”

Gabriel held himself back from reacting. Less because the creature had a point and more because he knew full well that’s exactly what the little devil wanted and the last thing he needed was for someone to burst in out of concern only to find him seemingly yelling to himself.

Again.

________________________

When it had first appeared, he had hoped that the little kwami’s arrival was indicative that he would be granted a Miraculous he could use to try to rescue his son and save his family.

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA—OHMYGOD, OH MY GOD—AHAHA—YOU-YOU ACTUALLY THINK—HAHAHAHA—I MEAN, YOU? HAHAHAHAHEEHEEHAHA—OH MY GOD I CAN’T—AHAHA—I CAN’T BREATHEHEEHEEHEEHOO—HOO—hoo—”

Needless to say, that hope died rather quickly with the resulting boisterous laughter that was both needlessly exaggerated and gratuitous, leaving Gabriel glaring at the thing in increasing annoyance which did nothing to stifle its cries. If anything, it only got worse as it became loud enough to get his wife’s attention and nearly led to them both being caught had Gabriel not somehow convinced her it was just a phone call with an overly enthusiastic client.

The fact that the cat’s laughter didn’t stop until well after she left certainly didn’t help his first impression of the thing. Or his desire to shove it into a shoebox.

The fact that it wouldn’t leave him alone afterwards only compounded that.

He had come to learn a couple things after this less than pleasant initial meeting. That the little creature before him was, in fact, the Black Cat kwami. That its name was Plagg. And that it hated him.

A lot.

“You can stop laughing at any time.”

“Can’t. Heehee—not until it stops being funny.” It replied, wiping away a tear.

“This is hardly humorous!” Gabriel seethed.

It only continued to grin at him. “An egotistical screwball thinking I’d actually partner with him? That has to be the world’s best joke!” It gave another chuckle. “Thanks, I needed that laugh.”

Gabriel glowered.

“And if we’re being honest,” the little kwami added, rising from the fancy mahogany desk and lazily floating around Gabriel and ending at his impeccably quaft hair. “You wouldn’t look good in the suit anyway.”

Oh now that was just uncalled for.

As far as first meetings went, it was easily among the most aggravating—which seemed to be the intent. And it was only the beginning. What came to follow was by no means a partnership or indeed anything resembling an amiable relationship. For all that they should have been allies, their relationship was less than mutually beneficial and more than once did Gabriel question why he continued to host the damned thing.

Then he would have the unpleasant reminder shoved in his face (either by Plagg’s words or his own traitorous thoughts) that this was his fault in the first place and that he really had little choice in the matter.

It quickly became evident over the course of their interactions that the kwami remembered everything from prior to Gabriel’s wish. While that was fortunate in that it meant he wasn’t alone in his knowledge of the world being altered, that also meant that it knew full well that he was the one responsible. And the damn thing wasted every bit of time and effort it could to verbally lambast him for it as much as possible.

If the knowledge of what he had caused wouldn’t drive him to insanity, he was sure this creature would.

“I would be able to do more to fix this if you would just work with me.” Gabriel grumbled at one point, increasingly frustrated after multiple failures. And why wouldn’t he be? He had finally gained a glimpse of hope only to have it torn away by a vindictive little brat of a kwami.

The thing continued to chortle a bit although its laughter had finally gotten under control. “Even if I were inclined to help you—which I’m not, you would still need my Miraculous to do any good—which you don’t have.”

This gave him pause. “Where is the Black Cat Miraculous?” He had wondered but hadn’t chosen to ask before given the kwami’s blatant ire.

“With the new big bad. Why do you think I’m hiding out here?”

He stared in surprise. “You can leave your Miraculous?”

It shrugged, uncaring. “We’re not supposed to, but yeah. Got any cheese?”

Stunned and somewhat overwhelmed by the strange turn this entire situation had taken, Gabriel numbly paged his assistant for some cheese—vaguely realizing that the little black thing taking up residence on his desk had apparently been the cause of his son’s sudden and rather bizarre requests for Camembert. Things were starting to make more sense now, except that it was only after all of it ceased to matter.

That was how he had come to be the reluctant caretaker of a similarly reluctant but much more antagonistic kwami. Keeping it hidden was difficult enough. Keeping it appeased so it wouldn’t do anything foolish to undermine his attempts to hide it was even more so.

He had hoped to have an ally in resolving this mess—even if it did not come with a Miraculous he could use. Instead, he found himself carrying more of a millstone quite intent on being dropped on his foot even to its own detriment. It would not speak to him if it could help it, and even on the occasions where it did (usually only after multiple offerings of its favored and horribly expensive cheeses), it offered nothing useful—simply more scathing remarks and less than helpful commentary on his failings.

And there were many more of those than he would like.

The kwami, on its end, seemed to care very little about Gabriel’s disappointment or even the situation in general as it continued to gorge itself on the disgusting cheese he had been forced to order for it just to get it to even talk to him. When it wasn’t eating, it would either ignore him or meddle in his attempts to keep some semblance of normalcy in his life.

And such was how the time passed.

________________________

“Can’t you tell me anything?”

“No.”

________________________

“Would you just tell me?”

“Still no.”

________________________

“How about a trade?”

“Camembert for information?”

“Yes!”

“No.”

________________________

“What will it take?”

“Not for all the cheese in Wisconsin.”

________________________

“Fine! Then I will handle this situation myself!”

“Yeah, because you’ve done a great job of that so far.” It replied with a roll of its eyes before it went back to its nap.

________________________

The kwami raised an eyebrow as Gabriel entered the room with a black eye.

“How’s progress on the whole ‘handling the situation yourself’ plan going?”

“Shut up.”

________________________

“Aren’t you supposed to be out there?”

“Emilie didn’t want me to be involved.”

“So?”

“She locked me in the house.”

It fell to the desk and started rolling around in laughter.

________________________

It takes a lot to force Gabriel to drink.

“Well, it could be worse. Your wife could divorce you and take your kid with her, though from the looks of it, that possibility isn’t off the table just yet.”

“Surprisingly enough,” Gabriel growled, “this isn’t helping.”

“I wasn’t trying to be helpful.”

This is enough to call for another bottle.

________________________

“…”

“…So…?”

“Not. One. Word.”

________________________

Another day, another failure. His wife had survived another skirmish, but had come no closer to saving their son. Her being unaware of his knowledge of her identity only hindered his own attempts to aid her or his work to rescue their son. She was so concerned for getting him out of the conflict that neither of them had been able to effectively act to the best of their ability. The two of them ended up unintentionally impeding one another as he attempted to reach his son while Emilie was trying to purify him.

He had been so close, though. Close enough to try to talk to Adrien for all of a few minutes at least. But if anything, that only made the situation worse and Gabriel was regretting acting so rashly as to attempt to confront him directly.

On his own, Chat Blanc was confident and mischievous, acting out of a juvenile and destructive sense of “fun”. But as soon as Gabriel made his appearance to try to appeal to him, his attitude had completely changed. And the longer he remained, the more unsettled the boy appeared to become. He had thought at the time he was making progress, but things quickly escalated despite Gabriel’s attempts to calm him as Chat Blanc became more incensed and his ferociousness increased. It was as though the boy lost all rational thought—hissing and spitting much like the creature for which he was named.

He had expected some anger or aggression—an akuma was the emotional state made physical, after all. But he had never expected Adrien would ever raise a hand to him, yet here he was, covered in bruises and nursing the headache that came with colliding with the ground when the boy finally had enough and literally threw him into a billboard featuring his own fashion line.

Gabriel groaned, covering his face in his hands and trying to mind the growing bruises. “This is a disaster.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Came the caustic reply he really should have known to expect by now. No sympathy, of course. The damned thing wasn’t capable of it.

“So there was a miscalculation—”

“MISCALCULATION, he says!” It barked out with a laugh. “Did somehow the whole ‘godlike powers’ not work out as you expected?”

He tensed, anger coursing through him. “I had no way of knowing this would happen! The Miraculous didn’t come with instructions!”

It crossed its arms, clearly not buying his claim. “They came with kwami! Who told you not to do it! You even had an entire freaking instruction manual detailing what would happen! The only thing you DIDN’T have was the common sense to figure out why messing with the laws of nature would be a bad idea!”

It wasn't wrong, though that didn't stop Gabriel from wanting to throttle it. However, he needed information, not an argument. So it seemed Gabriel would have to attempt to be the rational one here. “I know you’re unhappy with me.”

“Unhappy is putting it mildly.” It said with a huff.

“And I understand why.”

If looks could kill, Gabriel was certain he would have been dead a hundred times over from the creature's expression.

“No, I really don’t think you do. Because altering reality isn’t even beginning to touch the list of reasons why I despise you.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “And I suppose you’re going to be the one to tell me?”

“Would you listen if I tried?” It asked with a shrug before turning away from him to go back to nibbling on the cheese he was regretting to have ordered for it. If he’d believed the thing was capable of feelings beyond spite, he’d almost have said it sounded melancholy at that. Nothing further was said as it simply shrugged at any further inquiries and remained silent.

Attempts at conversation or any sort of legitimate answers or planning ended similarly. Usually with the kwami huffing and turning away like it had any right to be the one vexed by the situation.

Having gone through more than enough for one day, Gabriel chose to return to his own room for rest and left the creature to its petulant silence in his office.

________________________

More days. More attacks. Nothing changed and Gabriel would have been inclined to pull at his hair if he wasn’t already finding himself becoming depressingly used to the current state of things.

So this was what his life had come to. Stuck watching matters get progressively worse from the confines of his office where the only one he could talk about any of this to clearly hated him and would be all too happy to spend the days mocking him. It made him miss Nooroo, and not for the first time he wondered how the little kwami was doing under the new Hawk Moth.

Which begged a question.

“Where did Hawk Moth come from?”

“Well,” came the smarmy reply from the still very angry and in no way sympathetic black cat kwami, “When some asshole finds a Butterfly Miraculous and decides to be reeeeaaaaaaally stupid—”

Which begged the insight that he should perhaps stop trying to ask questions.

But he hadn’t gotten this far being ‘smart’, apparently.

“Where did this Hawk Moth come from?”

“What, you changed reality without thinking anything through and actually expected everything to be better? What kind of cotton candy dreamworld do you live in and where can I get a ticket there?”

Although even that would still involve insults.

“How is there a Hawk Moth at all in this new reality?” He rephrased. He had come to learn over time that while the kwami would needle him relentlessly given the opportunity, it would at least answer questions honestly—but only depending on how he asked. So he had to watch his wording and phrase things specifically to get a real answer, though even that would still take multiple attempts before it would relent and actually answer in any way appropriately.

“Isn’t it obvious? You never lost your wife, so you never went searching. Someone else was bound to get ahold of Nooroo eventually. You were just too lazy to follow up on that this time.”

“Do you at least know who it is?” If he can know the new Hawk Moth’s identity, he can target the other using non-magical means and hopefully help to end this situation all the sooner.

But the creature shook its head. “No clue. We kwami don’t automatically know who the other holders are. And now that my Miraculous is compromised, I can’t risk getting close enough to find out or else I’ll end up like Nooroo, and things are already bad enough as it is.”

“Then…why come here?”

Its eyes snapped up to glare at him. “I was trying to get back to my kid. But it looks like I was too late.”

He bristled at that. “He isn’t yours.” And Adrien never would be if Gabriel had any say in things.

“Isn’t he? I cared for him, consoled him, supported him, actually spent some fucking time with him—which is more than anyone can say for you!” The creature hissed back at him. “He’s more mine than he ever was yours!”

It floated up and jabbed a paw at his nose. “I stayed by his side through everything! When he was sad, when he was lonely, when he was scared or uncertain, I was there! When he was being attacked—by YOUR minions, I was the one who offered protection! I was the one who actually worked to keep him safe! And where were you?”

“I was trying to bring her back!” Gabriel shouted, taking a swipe at the damned thing because how dare it suggest he wasn’t there for his son!

“Don’t you even start trying to say you were doing it for him! You were trying to drag back the past instead of looking at the present!” It countered, spinning away from his reach and gesturing widely. “You went further than any rational person would—more than anyone SHOULD, looking into magic and fairy tales you didn’t know were actually true for an answer to get back someone who was gone while completely ignoring the people you still had!” It turned back on him, making Gabriel jump. “Your wife was gone, but your son was still there! He was always right there behind you, just waiting for any scrap of affection from you! So he waited and he worked, only to be disappointed time and again. But he still kept holding on to that hope and trying to earn your acknowledgement—more than anyone should have had to and certainly more than you deserved!”

It shook its head, glaring at Gabriel in sheer disappointment. “It’s no wonder he was akumatized this time around! If one good thing came out of this new timeline, it’s that he’s finally had enough of your treatment.”

How dare he? To question Gabriel’s parenting and his devotion to his family? “I did what I had to! And he wasn’t an akuma last time!” He huffed, angrily.

“Sure wasn’t.” It agreed, flippantly. “But things were actually better over there, so…”

This gave Gabriel pause, drawing his focus back to the main issue at hand. “So how could the events vary so drastically but still be the same?”

“Wibbly-wobbly timey-whimey.”

He drew back in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

“Wait—you mean that’s not a thing here?” It asked in surprise, only growing more vexed and pointed at him threateningly. “Oh, heaven help you if your screw up did anything to ruin that series!”

Now he was completely lost. “What series?”

“You know. That series? The one your son used to like before he was TURNED INTO AN AKUMA!”

“Enough! A television series is not relevant here!”

“Your son being an akuma is!”

“And I am trying to fix that and make things right!”

“No, you’re only trying to clear away a portion of the mess you’ve made so you don’t have to deal with it! If it weren’t for the fact that this is affecting you directly because of your wife and kid, you wouldn’t even be discussing this right now!” It shouted, throwing up its arms in frustration.

Gabriel slammed a fist on his desk, sending a tablet clattering to the floor though he ignored it in favor of the irritant before him. “They’re the only reason I even did this in the first place!”

“And look how that turned out! You prevented yourself from losing them one way only to risk losing them another!”

“And what would you do then?!” Gabriel demanded, growing frustrated and desperate to end this conversation if nothing else.

It only gave him a look like it thought he was an idiot—which he had no doubt it likely did. “Your wife is a Miraculous user. You know she’s a Miraculous user. Tell her what’s going on!”

This actually took Gabriel aback. A simple answer, and yet one he had not previously explored. One he had not wanted to. Emilie loved him, and like him would do anything for family. But if she knew…

“And say what?” The fashion mogul uttered in a defeated tone.

“The truth.” It responded. He could almost hear the ‘duh’, like it should have been obvious.

In retrospect, maybe it should have been.

Gabriel froze, actually uncertain for the first time. His analytical mind plotting out the possible course of events that could follow.

It was the most straight forward solution, clearly. If Emilie knew he knew about the Miraculous and her involvement, they could work together instead of clashing when they each try to act. Emilie was distracted in the conflict because he kept getting in the way. He was similarly distracted when trying to act on his own because he was so fearful of her finding out.

But that brought back the matter of why he did not want her to know.

A mother would die for her son. But to find out that he did this—caused their son to become this just to save her?

He wasn’t sure she would forgive him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to in her shoes.

“I can’t.”

Plagg frowned at that, but didn’t seem surprised. “These things have a tendency of getting out, and you’re far from subtle—about as subtle as a brick to the face.”

Gabriel sighed and leaned back, resting his head on the back of his chair, but didn’t comment.

________________________

Time passed and animosity remained. At the very least, the stodgy silence was diminished. Gabriel continued with his paltry efforts to little effect. But at the very least, his unwilling companion had ceased to endlessly mock him for them. With each day that went by with no change, it grow more weary. If Gabriel had believed it capable of feelings, he would have thought it to be concerned.

A thought occurred to Gabriel at one point as he was overlooking the latest news report about the heroes facing yet another akuma. They were different heroes from the Ladybug and Chat Noir of before, but there were still two of them and the akuma they fought appeared familiar to him.

This gave him pause and made him stop to consider something he hadn’t before.

“Why did things turn out this way?”

“You mean besides the obvious?” It shot back before taking another nibble of the Camembert.

“No, this is serious.” Gabriel frowned at it, pointing to the screen. “This is a new reality. New Hawk Moth. New heroes. But for all that things should be different, they’re still somehow the same.” He had heard the saying the more things change the more they stay the same, but that couldn’t the case, could it?

To his surprise, it actually put the cheese down and turned to face him from its seat on his desk. “You knew there would have to be a balance.”

“Yes, I was aware—”

“No, clearly you weren’t. Did you really think people could be traded so easily? That it’d be as simple as your wife being restored to life in exchange for some random stranger you’ve never met and won’t have to deal with the fallout from? No! No, no no! It’s hardly that self-contained!” It scoffed with a shake of its head. “See, the universe likes balance and hates it when people try to mess with that balance because they think they know better. But balance isn’t just about the number of lives or the perceived importance of individuals to a single person—that’s much too small minded.”

At his look of surprise, the kwami floated up until it was eye level with him before continuing, gesturing widely with its paws for emphasis.

“It’s the series of events, the roles people play, the overall impact! It wouldn’t be enough for you to switch someone else’s life for hers and have that be the end of it where you’re happy, they’re sad, and everyone simply has to deal with that. Because it wasn’t just one life that was traded, it was how everyone else was affected by that life as well! The missing wife, the grieving husband who turns to villainy, the heroes who step forth to stop him, and all the shenanigans and drama that arise from the ensuing conflict between them! You know, the good ole status quo!”

It did make a strange, twisted sort of sense. Though he hardly wanted to admit the cat was right, he had indeed believed it would be a simple matter of reviving his wife with no other effects. He hadn’t even been aware another life would be taken, and honestly, would hardly have cared even if he had known.

Seeing that it had his attention, it continued. “Why do you think we try so hard to prevent anyone from doing it? It’s because it becomes a cycle of continuous world-changing that alters reality as we know it while never actually resolving anything! No solution is made! Nothing moves forward! And it’s a major pain to be stuck living the same year over and over regardless of any changes made to it that are actually pretty damn minor in the wake of an eternal time loop!”

“So there is still a Hawk Moth.” Gabriel asked, turning away from the annoyance to his desk to glance through the book he fortunately managed to retain possession of through the change.

“Yeeeeees.” Came the annoyed drawl of one who was dealing with someone abnormally slow.

He dutifully chose to ignore it. “But because I wasn’t the one to lose anyone and go searching for the Miraculous, it’s not me.”

The cat rolled its eyes and settled down on the edge of the desk where the cheese was still waiting. “Given that your hideout is missing and some other lunatic is making akumas without your input, I’m gonna guess you’re not.”

Gabriel ignored the sarcasm and smell of cheese as he flipped through the pages of the book until it settled on one in particular—the Fox, if he was accurate. He needed to focus and work this out if he was going to be able to come up with a suitable plan. And right now, he needed to clarify the full extent of the changes. “And there are still heroes.”

“Obviously."

“But they aren’t Chat Noir and Ladybug.”

“Clearly they aren’t.”

“Nor are they Adrien or his former partner.”

“Them either.”

“But why?”

Plagg shrugged. “Different circumstances lead to different choices. I can’t speak for the girl who was Ladybug, but your kid was chosen after he escaped your suffocating and overall horribly misplaced sense of overprotection. If dead mom wasn’t dead, he may not have had reason to do that.”

So he had affected more than he thought in regards to his son’s destiny and prevented him from becoming a Miraculous user. He wanted to be pleased to have spared his child that stress and pain, but the fact that this led to him becoming akumatized instead gave him very little to be happy about among everything else going wrong with this situation.

“Then why are there different Miraculous active as heroes instead of the Black Cat and Ladybug?”

Here, the cat kwami sent him a dry look. “Part of it may have to do with the fact that since a certain someone used our combined powers to alter all of reality, we’re pretty drained and far from in the best condition to try to fight or use any of our powers to prevent someone else from doing the same. Guess who we have to thank for that.”

Gabriel was hardly impressed. “And yet you’re here.”

“Not by choice, mind you.” It sniped before taking a bite of the cheese. Clearly it was a petulant little demon.

“You’re active.” Gabriel reiterated. “You’re not dormant and sleeping in your ring.”

“Wish I was, but with the ring being part of an akuma right now, that wouldn’t be wise."

“But you’re able to help that.” As much of an irritation as the creature was choosing to be, it said something that it was able to be active and had been able to abandon its Miraculous. Though why it chose to come to him of all people if it hated him so much was a question all its own.

“You should be grateful. If I wasn’t, Chat Blanc would be an unstable self-destructive mess instead of simply Hawk Moth’s favorite lackey at this point.”

For the sake of his own sanity, the father had to try very very hard not to think further on that.

“So how are you active if you are so drained?”

For once, the small cat creature actually appeared pensive instead of looking like it wanted to tear Gabriel’s head off. “Tikki took the brunt of it.”

“Tikki?” How curious. That was not a name he’s heard yet. “Is that the Ladybug Kwami?”

The smaller being didn’t answer, merely turning away and giving every indication that he didn’t want to speak further. Unfortunately, this discussion was not over and Gabriel needed more information if he was going to be able to take any steps from here.

“Why is Adrien an akuma?”

“You mean besides the fact that his father is a horrible excuse for a person?"

“You know what I mean.”

“And you know I’m angry with you and not feeling sensitive to your needs.”

“This is important.”

“So is my mealtime.”

Gabriel sighed and set down yet another container of that blasted product the thing so enjoyed.

“Now then, let’s try this again. Why is Adrien an akuma?”

“Akumas still function the same.” It stated as it popped a piece of the cheese into its gaping mouth. “He got upset and one was attracted to him. That is kind of what akumas do.”

“How is Adrien an akuma when he’s Chat Noir?”

“Should be plain to see. He wasn’t a Miraculous wielder this time around—for obvious reasons.” Here he shot a knowing glare that Gabriel chose not to respond to. “So no, he’s not technically Chat Noir, and no Chat Noir means there was nothing to protect him from the new Hawk Moth.”

“That doesn’t explain how he is still an akuma. It has been over a month and he is still Chat Blanc. None of my akumas ever lasted more than a day.”

“Does that say more about the heroes or you?”

“Just answer the question!”

Plagg rolled its eyes. “The shorter answer is that the balance of the universe means the plot has to stay the same and the roles still have to exist despite the switch in players. Only problem is—other than morals and time/space shenanigans—just because new people have been stuck with these roles doesn’t mean they’ll be nearly as good at them. Or as bad in the case of the new Hawk Moth given that he’s already one Miraculous away from rewriting the world a second time when it took you over a year to even get that far.”

“I am well aware of that issue, thank you.” Gabriel bit out through gritted teeth.

“Really? You sure? Because I’m sure I could put together a slide show if you need me to.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Or a puppet show, since that seems more up your alley.”

“Enough!”

“Hey, I don’t judge.”

He absolutely does, the little devil.

Nooroo had been passive. Quiet, skittish, and eager to placate Gabriel in the midst of his many failures. He had been downright pleasant in comparison to this.

It, in true cat fashion, ignored his growing ire and continued. “This time, we’re in a reality where someone competent is Hawk Moth.”

“I was—”

“I said someone competent!”

Gabriel frowned at the insult but still mulled over the rest of the kwami's words. For all that it may have had a point, there was something off.

It couldn’t be enough that there was simply a different Hawk Moth. His various akumas had managed to bring all of Paris to its knees. He’d come close to success multiple times. The public was easily cowed. The police weren’t even a speed bump to his goals. There was not even so much as an obstacle to his takeover. Even without the Miraculous, there had been plenty of akumas that had successfully gotten him control of the city. Nothing ever seemed to truly stand in his way.

Nothing except—

That’s when it hit him.

“Ladybug…"

His eyes widened. Of course! Why hadn’t he considered it before?

His multitude of attempts in his time as Hawk Moth were always subverted—not because of himself or Chat Noir or circumstances, but because of the girl who was Ladybug. She had been the central cause of the failure of his plans back then. With nothing more than a random object summoned by her creation powers, she was able to defeat his warriors time and again. She was the one who constantly restored the city to normal and undid any of the damage caused. If she was active now, it could change everything!

“Ladybug!”

The cat blinked up at him. “Eh?”

“That’s it! That’s the solution!” Gabriel exclaimed. “It’s Ladybug!”

“Right away, no.” Immediately it realized what his ‘solution’ entailed and tried to nix that line of thinking.

“Every time! Every plan, every akuma, every attempt—it was HER!”

“Stop this. Stop this right now.”

“If I can just find her—”

“She’s not Ladybug anymore!” The cat tried to insist nearly in a panic. “You won! She lost! She doesn’t have her Miraculous anymore and none of her memories or experience carried over with her!”

The creature flew up right to his face, jabbing angrily at his nose. “If you go after her, she’s just going to be a normal girl.”

“She was a normal girl before as well. She became something greater. She can again.”

“Let me reiterate: a normal girl who is going to be freaked out that some stranger is coming after her wanting her to run around the city in a spandex suit with magical powers which—in case I have to remind you since I’m sure I do—SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANYMORE!”

“If Adrien still had his Miraculous, then it’s fully plausible that Ladybug may have retained hers as well!” Gabriel continued, ignoring Plagg’s outburst.

“Would you just listen for ONCE in your life!” It shouted at him in a desperation that actually gave him pause.

Seeing that it had his attention, it grabbed his cheeks and looked him straight in the eyes. “She’s not Ladybug anymore! She is just a scared girl trying to survive as best she can in a city constantly under siege!”

“She can change that!” Gabriel exclaimed as he pushed away from its hold to return to the book that had offered him so much insight.

Not to be deterred, the kwami flew down to sit right on top of the book and glared up at him, pointlessly continuing the argument when his mind was already set. “You don’t know that!”

How could he make it understand? Much to its annoyance, he lifted the creature from the book with one hand and used the other to turn to the page that featured the spotted heroine. "Ladybug is the bearer of all the powers of creation. If anyone can counter Chat Blanc's destructive nature, it would be her!"

The kwami forwent a response in favor of swiping at the hand holding it, forcing Gabriel to release it. But he was not to be deterred. Everything was right there, even if he couldn't read it completely, he knew this was the answer he had been seeking.

“Don't you see? The situation isn’t beyond salvaging!” He insisted, gesturing to the picture of the warrior on the page.

Unimpressed with his claim, it started ticking off claws as it counted. “Your son is an akuma. Ladybug is in no position physically or mentally to purify him. The current Hawk Moth has a tighter grip on the city than you ever managed, and seems particularly fond of using Chat Blanc as one of his top enforcers with very little intent to loosen that control. The ‘Situation’ as you call it is way past salvaging at this point!”

“But she can help!”

“And how exactly do you expect that to work, huh? Go around stalking a teenage girl, trying to convince her she’s a magical girl in another world with the power to make everything sunshine and rainbows?!”

“It would at least be a starting point!” He exclaimed, not willing to let go of perhaps the one decent plan he’s been able to turn to since this entire mess started. “As Ladybug, she is the greatest force to counter the akuma and the only one who can fully restore order! The entire reason I failed as much as I did in the previous timeline was because of her!”

“Yes, because it had absolutely nothing to do with you being an overall crappy villain. Or the fact that the very first thing you decided to do with a Miraculous was become a supervillain.”

He intently ignored the snipe. “There’s every likelihood that things wouldn’t be to the state they are now if she had still been one of the heroes this time around. She was the reason that Paris was able to function as well as it did with the constant attacks since she could undo any of the damage! She is what we need right now! You know that! If you could just tell me who she is—”

It turned away in a huff. “I’m bad with names.”

“I can bring you photos and you can point her out—”

“I’m bad with faces, too.”

Gabriel glared at the cat kwami. “You are going to be insufferable, aren’t you?”

Plagg glared right on back. “If you think this is what insufferable is, then clearly I have to up my game.”

“You know I’m right!”

“Whether you’re right or not,” the kwami hissed, not willing to in any way agree with the man, “the problem is that you think you’re entitled to this! You’re trying to play things again! Using people to fulfill your needs and obsessing over things you can’t change! Instead of moving on or going forward, you try to force your will on everything else to get the result you want even if it’s not healthy for anyone!”

Gabriel simply ignored him and left the room. He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t need to hear this from some know it all magical creature with an axe to grind about his parenting.

________________________

So he attempted to locate the girl on his own. But without a current Ladybug being active, he had no leads. And he had little information to go on from what he knew prior to the change. He soon realized—or rather was forced to acknowledge that for all his current resources and efforts, he had absolutely no way of determining the identity of the girl who was once Ladybug in a world she no longer was. Too much had changed, and he was unable to reconcile anything he knew of the hero in the previous timeline to any specific individual in this new reality. If not for Plagg’s vague comments, he wouldn’t even be sure she was still alive.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was stuck. Not for the first time, he cursed his short sightedness and that he didn’t take steps to verify Ladybug’s identity when he finally obtained her Miraculous. Eventually, he gave in to his desperation and turned back to the insufferably smug creature in a vain hope at obtaining answers.

“Isn’t there something you can tell me? Anything at all?” He did not beg. He was not so low as to beg for answers. But damned if he wasn’t close. For his son…yes, he would beg if he had to, but everything in him railed against showing weakness to this creature and his pride and anger kept him from that final step. He knew full well it wouldn’t make a difference even if he did.

To its credit, it seemed to consider his words.

“She should have been mine, did you know that?”

Gabriel blinked in surprise at this strange response, uncertain what the kwami meant and what it was getting at.

Plagg on the other hand, smiled softly to itself. “That girl made for a pretty good Ladybug, don’t get me wrong. Optimistic, supportive, nurturing, and all around more inclined to the ‘high road’ that Tikki so loves. She took to the fortune and creation powers like a champ and was generally able to come up with the best plans and ways to use what she had to the greatest effects—to the point that she could have accomplished just as much outside of the mask as she could in it.”

It paused, looking up wistfully and thinking of things that could have been. “Yeah, she was a good pick for Ladybug, but she had all the makings of an amazing Black Cat given the chance. Protective, sneaky, graceful, territorial, cautious, observant—everything a good Cat should be. And she had a sort of resiliency in facing bad situations that would have made her perfect for the bad luck of the Black Cat Miraculous. I could have molded her into something extraordinary if she’d been put in my hands.”

It nodded contemplatively. “Similarly, Tikki would have made something good out of your kid as well. She’s all about order and structure and whatnot, and your kid was always by the book in that regard—you made real sure of that.” It added with a brief glare in Gabriel’s direction before softening again. “With their personalities, they would have gotten along splendidly. She would have made an amazing Ladybug out of him.”

It smiled, almost fondly for a brief moment before remembering where it was and growing somber.

“But the thing about the Miraculous is that when it comes to picking and choosing who we go to, we tend to wind up with the people who need us rather than the other way around. And of the two of us, Adrien needed me more.”

Gabriel bristled at that. “My son did not need some miscreant who encouraged him to put himself in danger on a regular basis!”

“He needed someone who helped him to assert himself!” Plagg countered.

“He was perfectly able to be assertive!”

“Only when it didn’t inconvenience you!” It sneered at him. “And lets not mince facts, he was always an inconvenience to you! You barely spoke to him! Hell, you spoke more to him through that secretary of yours than anything! You dictated every aspect of his life without so much as a thought to how he felt about any of it, and you willfully ignored any of his attempts to protest. Anything he tried to say fell on deaf ears. His wishes, his hopes, his desires for what to do with his own life didn’t matter! And through it all, you were completely blind as to just how miserable he was!”

They both glared at one another for a good half minute before the kwami chose to continue its initial point. “It doesn’t matter who would work best with the powers, but how they can grow the most with the kwami. Tikki’s a pillar of stability. Stern and motherly and lecturing—always with the lectures, I kid you not. But other than the spurts of creativity she tends to inspire in her bugs, Tikki wouldn’t be able to offer your kid anything except for more of the same he’d been dealing with up to that point. More responsibilities, more structure, more order, more nagging. Sure, she’d be a bastion of support for him—and certainly more than anyone else in his life at that point had been giving him, but Tikki’s thing is that she tends to try to caretake for her holders and push them to the straight and narrow, and Adrien’s had more than enough people doing that for him.”

It looked up at Gabriel, a stormy look in its eyes.

“I went to Adrien because he needed me. Tikki’s girl needed someone who could rein her in—help her focus and look past her initial impulses. But Adrien needed someone who would push him out—to encourage him to break out of the cage he was trapped in and actually have fun for once in his life. You know, fun? That thing children are supposed to have? I honestly didn’t think you did, since you never let Adrien have any. But then you went and fully encouraged it in all of your minions—and what does that say when you’re encouraging everyone else BUT your own child to have a good time?”

“I will not have one of you creatures speak to me in such a way!” Gabriel thundered.

“You mean like how you talk down to everybody else in general? And not even because they’re doing anything wrong, but just so you can upset them enough that you can use your dark powers on them? It kind of says something when your child’s happiness or well being ranked as less important than making people miserable so you could manipulate them!”

“That’s not true!"

“You refused to let your son have a freaking birthday party just to upset his friend enough to turn him into one of your minions! Do you have any idea how that made Adrien feel?”

“I was not going to let a number of unknown miscreants in my home!”

“So you couldn’t let them arrange something elsewhere? There are events and plenty of places that would have been happy to host them, but you refused to let him even celebrate the day of his own existence! And that’s not even getting started on the birthday gift. You know the one, right? Hah! I’d be surprised if you did, seeing as how your assistant stole it from one of Adrien’s classmates to claim it was from you because you couldn’t be bothered to get him anything yourself! Hell, it says something when the girl clearly cared more about his feelings than you did since she never told him the truth just to let him be happy!”

That the gift he ordered Nathalie to get was stolen was not something he was aware of, and if this was that same world, he likely would have stern words with her about that. But that did beg the question—

“How do you know who it was from?”

The pest shrugged and looked away from him. “I could smell it.”

He rolled his eyes because of course the little monster could.

“She made that gift for him with her own two hands. Every part—from the materials to the time and energy she put into it were all for your child solely with him and his happiness in mind. It was more thought and love in one single gift than you’d shown him in years, and she never said a word even after she discovered what you’d done! She stayed quiet and let you take the credit just so Adrien could believe that his father gave a damn about him! What the hell does that say about you?”

“Nathalie was supposed to have—”

“Nathalie is not his father!” It shouted at him. “She’s not the one who he desperately wants attention and approval from! And she’s not the one who is supposed to be raising him! THAT’S YOU! But where have you been?”

“I’ve been trying to make my family whole—”

“By neglecting the only one you have left! And what if it hadn’t worked, huh? What if you’d managed to get both miraculous and it still didn’t bring her back? What then? Would it still have been worth it or would you have neglected and outright tortured your own son for nothing?”

Gabriel froze.

Plagg saw this, but didn’t relent. “You were a terrible father! The absolute worst! And that’s not even counting all the times you nearly killed your own son with your antics! Hell, how many of his friends did you turn into monsters without a thought of whether he would be in the crossfire?”

“I never meant for him to be a target!”

“But you never really tried to see if he was even potentially in the line of fire!”

“I didn’t know he was Chat Noir!” He had suspected at times, but for the most part he hadn’t actually known until the end.

But that didn’t matter to the cat.

"I'm not even talking about when he was Chat Noir!" It shouted, actually knocking the cheese reel aside to Gabriel's surprise. "It was when he was Adrien! Just plain Adrien going to school or events where you set your akumas to attack people without considering he would be there!"

He didn't always know his son's schedule or where he would be, but he had been certain that he could reign in his akuma if Adrien was in danger. And even if anything had happened, he would have been able to fix it once he had both Miraculous in hand. "I would have protected him. I could easily have freed him from anything the akumas did. I would not have allowed it if I was not certain he would be fine."

It gritted its teeth in frustration. “How could you have been so certain? You didn’t hold back! You didn’t even try to change tactics! And when you did know, you put him in danger!”

“It was just to prove if he was Chat Noir” And it turned out that he was, so it wasn’t like he was wrong.

“YOU HAD HIM FALL TO HIS DEATH TO PROVE A POINT!” It bordered on shrieking, possibly the first time he had ever seen it truly angry and not simply spiteful.

He looked away, hiding his hands and their growing tremors. “He wasn’t in any true danger.”

“You could have KILLED him!" Plagg shouted, pointing at Gabriel accusingly. "And what if he HAD transformed? What then? He would have revealed his identity in front of the entire world! How well do you think THAT would have turned out? He’d have an even bigger target on his back since people would know to go after him as a civilian! Did you even think of that?!”

“I would have protected him!” Gabriel insisted, ire growing.

“Because you’ve done such a wonderful job of that so far!” It hissed, unimpressed.

“I was simply trying to confirm my suspicions!” He argued. And really, Adrien should never have been out there in the first place.

“And that makes it okay? What if he transformed, then what?”

“Then I would know."

“AND SO WOULD THE WORLD!” It screeched back.

Silence.

The two glared at each other, as if attempting to will the other to burst into flames with mere thought.

One of the two might very well have been capable of that.

Fortunately, it instead took a breath in an attempt to force itself to calm. “If I’ve learned anything from my time with you, it’s that you don’t think things through. You create grand, overly elaborate plans but don’t consider the consequences. Say Adrien is revealed to the world—then what? Just keep him locked in his room for the rest of his life?”

Gabriel forced a neutral expression. That hadn’t…not been a possibility he had considered.

As if it could read his mind, it glared up at him. “Even if he isn’t allowed out into the world, the world is still going to be after him. What would you even be able to do against real criminals, huh? Can you protect him from poison? A sniper? A BOMB? Plenty of people out there have even less scruples than you do—if this new Hawk Moth should have taught you anything, it’d be that!” It started off speaking lowly but was shouting again by the end, pulling at his—its ears in frustration. “What lengths do you think people would be willing to go to in order to get ahold of that type of power? Do you really think murdering a model is really beneath them? That they wouldn’t be perfectly willing to take his life if they thought it was the only thing between them and all the powers of a Miraculous at their command?”

“I would have confiscated the Miraculous once it was confirmed.”

“And you think that would have made him safe? People are stupid! They won’t care it’s gone, they’ll care it was there and assume he’d have some means to getting it again.”

Gabriel frowned at that. “I would have sent him outside of Paris. They wouldn’t know where to find him.”

It shook its head. “Even if you did, do you really think he would be grateful? His friends and family would be all the more in danger for it because desperate people will do anything, target anything, lash out at anything to get what they want! And that’s not even getting into the mess it’d have left Ladybug with. Not only would she have been stuck dealing with your akuma alone, but she’d have everyone else homing in on her as well now that the people know for sure that their heroes are just kids.”

“She wasn’t a concern.” Or at least she wouldn’t have been for long. Every advantage was necessary to defeat her, and under those circumstances, even the reveal of his son would have been to his advantage. Once he had her Miraculous and altered reality, none of it would have mattered anyway.

It seemed to catch on to his train of thought as it glowered at him. “Right, right. Because that would have only been to your benefit.”

“It ceases to matter anymore regardless.” Gabriel stated flatly. Because going over what-ifs and could have beens are pointless in this new world and served no use other than for the kwami to try to instill a belated sense of guilt for actions he did not regret.

No matter how badly his hands were shaking.

________________________

Another day. Another failure. And he was only growing ever more desperate.

He had managed to get close to his son again—enough that they were able to speak. He had tried yet again to encourage Adrien to return home. But despite his heartfelt words, nothing he said could pierce Chat Blanc’s rage.

And he certainly did rage. The things he had shouted at him hit Gabriel hard. And as much as he wanted to simply chalk it up to the akuma’s influence, he knew full well from his time as Hawk Moth that anything the akuma said or did was still based on everything the victim felt.

That meant that everything Chat Blanc said, Adrien truly believed.

As much as Gabriel tried to force the encounter from his mind, he could still vividly hear the words his son had shouted at him, leaving him with tremors he couldn’t calm.

While he somewhat suspected Adrien might have held a level of resentment towards him, he still found himself shaken by the encounter and the things that were said. He had thought that Adrien perhaps remembered the previous timeline or that some other irritation in his life had resulted in the akuma targeting him. He hadn’t given much thought to how his own attempts to keep Adrien safe would have negatively impacted him. Once he had realized a new Hawk Moth had risen, he had tried to take steps to protect his family—increased security, limited their travel beyond the walls of the mansion, and rejected public school in favor of private lessons for Adrien. And to think that his very attempts might have been the cause of his corruption…

Had he really caused this like he had caused everything else?

No, no, no! He found himself turning to the Book for answers, searching for anything—ANYTHING that would give him guidance and hopefully tell him this claim was wrong.

Seeing his frazzled state and how he immediately rushed for the ancient book he should already have memorized by this point, Plagg rolled its eyes. “Looking for another trick to pull?”

Gabriel didn’t even look up at him from his fevered searching. “There has to be some way to fix this!”

“Haven’t you figured out anything yet?” It hissed at him. "You can’t keep turning to magic to fix your problems!”

"Given that magic is the source of my troubles so far, it seems an apt solution if not the only one." He snapped his gaze up to the kwami. “If you would just tell me who Ladybug is, this could all be over by now!”

“Could it really? Or is that just wishful thinking on your part?” It jeered, disgruntled.

“Of course it could!” Wasn’t that obvious? “If I know who she is, I can locate and explain the situation—“

Plagg cut him off. “So you’re telling me you would rather talk to a teenage girl than your own wife?”

“YES!” He froze, realizing what he just said. “NO!” He gritted his teeth and grabbed at his hair. “How did you get so awful?”

It grinned cheekily. “Your son’s friends. You know, back when he had friends at any rate.”

Gabriel grumbled under his breath. “I knew they’d be trouble.”

“Really?” Plagg asked with a smirk. “Because I thought Adrien was quite the good influence on them.”

How ironic was it that while it was the other who was supposed to be the cat of the the two, it was Gabriel who was feeling rather inclined to try to claw someone’s face off.

“Listen.” Gabriel started, trying to be the reasonable one and get back to the original point while holding back his growing anger. “It’s been months. MONTHS. And nothing has improved."

“I am aware.” It replied, neutrally.

Seeing they had at least that in agreement, Gabriel continued. “Hawk Moth has Chat Blanc as a constantly active minion now and isn’t inhibited in making another akuma in addition to him! The heroes currently active are barely able to handle just one akuma, and that’s even with my wife helping out despite her experience and training. None of them are a match for Adrien as he is and they certainly aren’t going to be able to purify him anytime soon. They need help.”

But Plagg only shook its head. “Throwing another kid into the mix isn’t going to help matters.”

“But we could find Ladybug and—”

“And what? Restore the world to how it was? Would you really be satisfied with that?”

He bit his tongue, unable to respond. He didn’t have an answer for that. How could he? After everything he’d done and even after the harm it had caused, would he really be willing to give it all up?

“This is the reality you asked for, so this is the reality you have to face.” It told him, calmly. “You need to think long and hard about what you’re wanting to accomplish here.”

What he wanted to accomplish?

He forced himself to relax and mull over the ancient being’s words.

What he wanted was simple.

He wanted his family whole.

He wanted his wife safe.

He wanted his son restored.

That was what he wanted. That had been all he’d ever wanted. If he could at least rescue his son from the akuma possessing him, he would be satisfied. Even if—

He froze, realizing.

Even if it meant Adrien became Chat Noir again.

Yes. He despised the thought regardless, but he would gladly take Adrien being Chat Noir over Chat Blanc any day.

And there was only one way to accomplish that.

Only one person who COULD save him…

“Could Ladybug resolve this?” He finally asked.

It sighed, weary. “Trying to ‘fix’ things won’t cut it. It’d cause more problems if we did.”

“But could Ladybug resolve this?”

Plagg hesitated.

Gabriel continued, steadfast in his resolution. “What it comes down to is that this is the reality we must now live in, even if there are things we don’t like about it. Adrien is an akuma. Neither you nor I have the power to save him. But in another lifetime, Ladybug did. And in this lifetime, Ladybug can.”

It was unfair. It was cruel and unfair and horribly selfish of him, he knew that. To bring a girl into this battle because of a life she now never lived because of him in the first place was horrible. But if it saved Adrien, wouldn’t it be worth it?

And if she was still Ladybug—or even anything like the Ladybug she had once been, wouldn’t she feel the same?

“You’re not thinking this through.” The cat warned him.

He closed the book with a sense of finality. “No, I think perhaps I’m finally seeing the situation for what it is.”

“No, you’re not. Because you’re still focused on Adrien.” It looked up at him, solemn. “And I get that, I do. I don’t want him to stay like this anymore than you do, but there’s something you need to consider.”

“Right now, I’m more worried about saving my son.” Gabriel retorted, angry that even now the creature would try to impede him. It had been months. He could tell the kwami had been growing more worried as time passed and the situation remained unresolved. The bite of its spitefulness dulled with time and if anything, there were a few points where it almost seemed to want to help him. That may very well have been wishful thinking on his part, however, as even now it refused to help him.

It simply shook its head. “Here’s what should worry you. You’re trying to bring the Ladybug back into the spotlight without considering what it will mean. See, bad enough if this new Hawk Moth rewrites history again and starts everything over in a new cycle and thus setting off yet another game of ‘Miraculous Merry Go Round’." It started, waving a claw in a circle to emphasize the last point. It looked up at him with a shrug as it continued. "Maybe you’ll remember this time. Maybe you won’t. But what should really concern you if he wins isn’t what will happen the next time around if he does make the same wish you did, it’s what will happen THIS time around if he chooses NOT to."

He didn’t understand what it was talking about. Something told him he should, given the slowly creeping feeling he was getting of something terrible in the works. How it could be worse than the current state of things, he didn’t know. But he needed to if they were going to be on the same page. “What do you mean?”

“You wished that your wife never left.” Plagg explained. “So she didn’t, and history changed to accommodate that new route with someone else vanishing in her place. But different people respond differently to situations and wish differently for things if given the opportunity. There’s every chance this new Moth could reset things and we’ll be going through this all over again. But there’s also every chance that he DOESN’T make the wish to reset everything again—in which case, we’re going to end up with a super villain with ultimate power and a world to play in.”

He still didn’t see the issue. He had already been in that position and when both Miraculous were in hand, the thought to not use them for his original wish never crossed his mind. Surely this would be the same?

“What are you talking about?”

“You immediately chose to become a super villain and decided to get the Miraculous not only to get your wife but to rule the world in true super villain fashion.” It gave him a dry look. “Seeing as how this is a much more intelligent villain than the one who came before him, he could decide he rather likes having a city under his thumb and two Miraculous users at his beck and call. He’s already got one in Adrien, and the Black Cat and Ladybug were specifically meant to be a team—and an unmatched one at that.”

Gabriel felt something inside him go cold at that realization. He hadn’t wanted to think of what could happen if the madman won before now, and certainly hadn’t even considered what said madman would choose to do. He was dangerous in a way Gabriel had never been—had never wanted to be, and was already one step closer to success in half the time it had taken Gabriel as Hawk Moth to accomplish.

He had thought finding and restoring Ladybug to some capacity could undo the damage—and perhaps she could. But once in the open, the new Hawk Moth and Chat Blanc would have a direct target. Instead of spreading out over a city, they could focus in on the Ladybug holder. The last piece they needed—in more ways than one.

It finally hit him just how badly things could go.

“If he gets the Ladybug Miraculous—”

“He’s going to get Ladybug, too.”

Ladybug, who was the main instrument of his defeat time and again with nothing more than her wits and random luck. Ladybug, who was the only one able to truly purify the akumas and save those possessed and their victims. Ladybug, who had the power to restore the world to its previous state and was the only one who could keep things in some semblance of order even in the middle of the worst of attacks. Before the change, she had been the biggest hurdle to his victory. Now, she was the only hope he had of saving his son and protecting his family. But if the new Hawk Moth got to her as well…

That was not an enemy he wanted to face. Not like this.

He clenched his hands in an attempt to hide how unsteady they were. “But she doesn’t remember being Ladybug! You’ve even said as such!”

“She doesn’t right now, no. But trying to bring her back when she still doesn’t remember anything won’t help matters. It doesn’t protect her now and it won’t make her not just as dangerous if Hawk Moth gets to her. Chat Blanc is already evidence enough of that.

He felt he was grasping at straws at this point, but there was one benefit to this mess, it was that he was the only one with clear knowledge and memory of the timeline before. He almost felt himself starting to calm as he remembered this. “At least she’s an unknown variable at this time. We could find her and start training her in secret. Hawk Moth has no knowledge of her and no one even knows to start looking.”

Plagg didn’t seem heartened by this. He simply looked up at Gabriel solemnly.

“But Adrien does.”

Gabriel froze, eyes widening in horror at the realization. Because of course Adrien would recall his partner—he had a Miraculous still and had been downright obsessed with the girl previously. He was fully aware of how much Adrien spent on her merchandise. Any free moment he had was spent on the Ladyblog or other internet sites discussing her deeds and debating her identity. And how many times had he put himself in danger for her sake? His love for her was clear to everyone except the heroine herself and worried him in how similar it had been to his own love for his wife.

Adrien loved that girl. And if some things truly carried over, his feelings would no doubt be one of them.

Plagg nodded, seeing that Gabriel finally understood. “The Black Cat Miraculous is a half of a whole. Romantics would call it fate or destiny, soulmates and the like. Which sounds all nice and overly cheesy in theory—and not the good kind either.” It shook its head and looked back up at him. “But what it comes down to is that if Adrien retains anything of his time as Chat Noir, he’s going to know at the very least that he’s supposed to have a partner. Even under normal circumstances, he would have every inclination to find her and restore that previous balance. And as an akuma, he will have no inhibitions or restraint keeping him from trying to get that back.”

“So you’re saying…”

“The instant she becomes Ladybug again, Chat Blanc is going to know. And he will stop at nothing to find her." He rose up to eye level with Gabriel, arms crossed and looking quite possibly more serious than the man had ever known him to be.

"So if you really want Ladybug’s help, you’d better hurry.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thank you for reading! Please check me out on Ko-Fi.

#ml au #Gabriel's Lament #gabriel is an idiot #hawk moth wins #hawk moth is an idiot #gabriel agreste #akumatized adrien #emilie agreste #plagg #poor plagg #the wish #it doesn't work like you'd expect

649 notes · View notes

shedreamsofstars · 4 years

Text

our union is a secret i’m hoping, dreaming, lying to keep - chapter six

you’ve all heard of ‘pretending to be married when you’re not’, now get ready for ‘actually married but pretending you’re not’

When Tohru and Kyo accidentally find themselves married, they must keep their new union a secret from their friends and family. That’s easier said than done when you’re both newlywed dorks who just want to spend some quality time with one another whilst said friends and family are always one step away from discovering the truth.

Start from the beginning | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Dinner was a simple affair.

That was, if you could call the several courses Shigure and Akito had requested be brought over from the annex kitchens simple.

Tohru and Kyo sat across from Shigure and Akito, a spread of food ranging from dumplings to grilled fish placed artfully between them. As the conversation dropped, Tohru reached for rice ball and noticed that Shigure was giving her a strange look.

"Uh …" she started, accidentally knocking a spoon in a nearby dish. "Is everything okay Shigure-san?"

The man blinked slowly and purposefully before leaning forwards and resting his chin in his hands. "I'm not sure," he said contemplatively, his eyes still on her as if he was trying to figure something out. "Have you done something different with your hair? I could have sworn it looked different when we were outside."

Panic fluttered in her chest and it was suddenly very difficult to breathe. "Oh, it's just that-"

She was saved from finishing her sentence when Kyo interrupted, an adorably grumpy look on his face that she couldn't help but appreciate. "What do you care about her hair you dirty perv," he grumbled with a deep frown as he picked at the food in his plate.

There was absolutely no doubt Kyo was annoyed that their quiet evening together had been cut into by Shigure and Akito's unexpected arrival, but she knew from his relative silence that he was at least trying not to be completely hostile.

From Shigure's responding grin, he knew it too.

"My, my, Kyo. You really are in a foul mood today aren't you. I'm sorry dear Tohru, I hope he isn't this horrid to you every day. I worry, since the two of you are all alone in that house all the time with no one to protect you."

Even without the older man emphasising his words for dramatic effect, it wasn't hard to catch onto where his mind was wandering. 'A little too close to the gutter,' Tohru could almost hear Yuki saying.

His remarks brought a hot flush to her cheeks and she chewed her food frantically to keep from having to respond instantly. Kyo didn't respond to the comment either, but Tohru did feel him tense up beside her, and when she risked a look at him he was stabbing at his chicken rather roughly.

"Is that a blush I spot, Tohru? I didn't mean anything indelicate I assure you, just an innocent comment over an innocent dinner. Unless there's something I'm missing of course?"

That seemed to be the last straw for her new husband as Kyo suddenly slid his chair back and stood up, slamming his fists on the table as he did so. "I just remembered there's somewhere else we have to be," he declared loudly, gritting his teeth.

"Oh really?" Shigure responded. "I was certain Tori said that-"

"Gure," Akito warned quietly, her face the picture of annoyance. She had been silently listening to her boyfriend throw around aimless comments this whole time, but it seemed even she had had enough. "Let them be."

"Ah, you're no fun," the older man moaned, leaning back in his chair and pouting at his girlfriend. "Besides, we're staying in the annex so it's not like we'll see them again before they leave. Sit down Kyo, you're starting to make me antsy."

Kyo's stomach grumbled traitorously, and despite his obvious desire to escape, he retook his seat with a defeated sigh. As soon as he was seated, he returned to openly glaring at Shigure. The tension between the two of them was rife, and Tohru had lived with the two of them long enough to know that if she didn't do something soon, it would only end in an argument.

As inconspicuously as she could, she reached under the table and placed her hand on Kyo's knee. His eyes drifted towards her at the touch and she leaned towards him. "It's just a meal," she whispered encouragingly.

The gesture seemed to appease him for the time being as he nodded, placing his own hand over the top of hers in response.

"She's right Kyo. After dinner, the two of you will have all the privacy in the world and you can make each other blush in whatever way you fancy. Isn't that right dear?"

If looks could kill, the glare Akito flashed at Shigure would have had him cold and dead on the on the floor in half a second flat. But as it was, he only grinned shamelessly and began to serve the next course.

Luckily, the food created a buffer for any disagreement that could have arisen from that particular look as the four of them dug into their over-laden plates.

"This tastes amazing," Shigure noted, lifting a forkful of grilled shishamo towards Akito. "Here, try some." She gingerly took a bite, blushing wildly at the obvious display of affection and Tohru couldn't help but smile at her friend.

Kyo however seemed to care marginally less about the scene before them. "Stop being all gross and cutesy Shigure, it doesn't suit you at all. Just finish eating and go," he griped, shovelling a much too large bite of food into his mouth.

"So, Akito," Tohru interjected loudly as their two partners began to bicker ceaselessly. "What was it that you wanted to talk about?"

"Oh," the other girl murmured, frowning at her food as she tried to figure out a way to put her thoughts to words. "Actually, it was about my wedding. I don't have many people I can call 'friend' … but you already knew that," she said with a nervous laugh.

"That's okay," Tohru said softly, nodding to encourage her to continue.

"We set a date for next year, and I was wondering if … maybe …"

Akito bit her bottom lip and frowned intently at her food. Tohru gave her a moment to finish her sentence, but it became pretty clear that she didn't plan to. With a concerned expression, Tohru leaned forwards but she needn't have worried.

As if sensing her distress, Shigure momentarily paused whatever argument he was having with Kyo and turned to Akito, casually wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning in close to her ear.

Tohru straightened up to give them some privacy, and even though she had no idea what Shigure said, it seemed to have been exactly what she needed to hear. Akito's face relaxed instantly, and a ghost of a smile appeared on her lips.

When she looked up at Tohru again, there was a determined fire in her dark eyes. "Tohru, I'd like for you to be my maid of honour," the girl said before any doubt could creep back into her tone. "If you want to that is … obviously. You don't have to if -"

"I do want to!" Tohru said excitedly, forgetting all about the food and almost knocking over her drink as she stood and reached across the table. "Akito, I'm so excited to get to be a part of your wedding," she squeaked, unable to contain her joy as she enclosed Akito's fidgeting fingers in her own comforting hold.

Kyo and Shigure, who had earlier promptly returned to squabbling, stopped once more at Tohru's excited outburst and turned to the two girls with intrigue. It didn't take them long to figure out what had happened.

When she retook her seat, Tohru caught Kyo flashing her a cryptic smile. He was happy for her. And even if he could never quite let go of his past with Akito completely, he was happy for her too.

As the conversation lapsed into various wedding planning details, talks of dresses, venues and flowers filled the room as even Shigure and Kyo put their two cents in and agreed on a few points despite their earlier animosity.

Whilst the two men discussed whether all the Sohma's would be wearing matching suits, Akito caught Tohru's attention with a gentle tap to the knuckle.

"So," she started, her voice pitched low so only Tohru could hear. "Have you two discussed marriage at all?" she asked, looking pointedly between Kyo and Tohru.

Tohru freaked out a little at the question, and in an effort to think of a response, she shovelled some mochi ice cream into her mouth and ate it as slowly as she possibly could. "Um … actually, we have," she replied eventually, hoping that the head of the Sohma's wouldn't push the topic further.

"Oh that's great," Akito responded. "I suppose it won't be long till the two of you tie the knot and have little Tohru's and Kyo's running around then."

Tohru choked on the spoonful of dessert in her mouth, coughing wildly as she tried to regain her composure. Kyo had her in his arms in seconds, rubbing her back with gentle soothing motions as Akito handed her a glass of water.

She took a sip, the cold seeping through her insides in cool wave of relief. "Thank you," she sighed softly before clearing her throat.

"Geez, would you take it easy. That dessert ain't going nowhere," Kyo said with a teasing grin, his hand still on her back. And then, more softly. "What had you eating like a maniac?"

Oh god, was she really going to have to talk about this.

"I'm afraid that was my fault," Akito stated. "I was just pointing out that I was looking forward to seeing more younger Sohma's in the family soon, and I seem to have caught Tohru off guard."

"Younger Sohma's?" Kyo repeated slowly, his confusion evident in his tone. "Is someone having another baby or something?"

"No, she meant your children Kyo," Shigure clarified, and this time it was Kyo's turn to cough in embarrassment. He mumbled a response quietly, but no matter how she strained to hear him, Tohru couldn't make out a single world he said.

"What was that?" Akito asked, frowning in confusion at his response.

"Nothing," he said, voice strained as he refused to make eye contact with Tohru. "Kids are great, but shouldn't you two be more concerned about your own?"

"Ah, we haven't fully decided on that front yet have we my dear," Shigure said, turning to his wife-to-be. "Besides, everyone's already convinced that the pair of you will beat us all in that department." He grinned wickedly at Kyo. "No pressure."

"Uh," Tohru smiled nervously. "We haven't actually talked about kids, but like Kyo said, they really are great."

"Oh. I was under the impression you'd already discussed it," Akito said quietly, looking more than a little embarrassed. Her other half on the other hand only grinned smugly, and from the look Akito gave him, it was clear where her misinformation had come from. The look was enough to make any normal man fall to his knees and beg for mercy, but Shigure's grin only widened.

"And with that, it seems we must be off," the older man said, standing and helping Akito to her feet beside him. It didn't take long for them to clear the table together and soon the four found themselves standing in the courtyard under the stars.

"Thank you again for such a lovely evening," Tohru said as she pulled Akito into a parting hug. "The food was amazing, and it was wonderful seeing you again."

"The same for you. And uh, Tohru," Akito said softly, holding onto her a little longer than needed. "Please ignore all the baby comments. I thought that …" she sighed softly, an air of suffering in her tone as she grumbled her fiancé's name.

Tohru couldn't help but giggle. "That's okay. I think he was just trying to make the evening a little more interesting and … it definitely worked."

"Yes, but still," Akito said, shaking her head as she pulled away from Tohru. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

Kyo and Shigure were standing by the car that would take the older couple to the house at the annex, and Tohru couldn't help but watch with a full heart and quiet pride as Kyo and Akito shook hands and wished each other well in parting.

As the headlights of the car disappeared from view, Kyo sighed heavily and fell against the low wall dramatically. "That was one of the most painful experiences of my entire life," he groaned, words slightly muffled as he pressed his face squarely into his hands.

"Oh, definitely," Tohru giggled in agreement as she perched beside him. "But I'm so proud of you for going along with it anyway."

Kyo turned his face towards her with a shy smile and Tohru almost slipped off the wall as her heart stuttered at the sight. She didn't think she'd ever be able to put to words how beautiful her husband looked when he wasn't putting on a mask for the rest of the word.

"Do you think they figured us out tonight?"

"No, I think we pulled it off," she said, nudging him with her shoulder. "We make a good team, right?"

Kyo lifted his head and sat up straight, gazing up at the stars twinkling above them as he took in a deep breath.

"I sure hope so."

... xxx ...

thank you so much for reading! let me know your thoughts if you have the time. i hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing basically *everything* shigure said and did lol. until next time, stay safe guys x

#kyoru #kyoru fanfiction #fruits basket #fruits basket fanfiction #our union is a secret i'm hoping dreaming lying to keep

13 notes · View notes

empathicstars · 4 years

Text

Nothing More Important

It’d been a long, grueling, impossible fifty hours. Longer and more grueling and more impossible, believably, than Neoma’d expected it to be. After all, how difficult was it to find a singular officer in a world where identification was required for everything one did?

Apparently, difficult. She’d been awake and running around the base since 2100 hours on, uh... --... how many days ago was it? One, two? It was hard to keep track. All Neoma could remember any longer was the pounding of her feet on pavement, of the crisp air that felt drier and drier the longer she was out in it, of the feeling of brick beneath her fingers and metal against her arms as she climbed and scaled the impressive base in search. The teams by her side had switched off five separate times, and more than once someone had attempted to relieve her.

But she’d made a promise. She told them she’d bring her back.

And she would.

Doctors marveled at how she was passing each examination they ran on her in attempts to force her to take her leave. She didn’t seem to be tired, and any scrapes or bruises were beyond minor. What she’d told Jim just before he drifted to sleep was true: she didn’t get sore. But that didn’t mean that spending fifty hours wide awake, soothing every officer she came into contact with, and walking the length of one of the Federation’s biggest bases multiple times over was enjoyable or restful for her. ( That didn’t mean that part of her wasn’t still shaking from an encounter with a limp body in a river, that her disagreements with all of those close to her wasn’t burning a coldness somewhere hard in the back of her throat. )

Ah, Jim… Fuck. When he learned about this disaster, she was sure he’d staunchly refuse to ever sleep again. And after all her hard work. Ancestors. It felt like all of her effort with everyone was coming up to nothing, now. Encouraging Reg out of his shell, building and mending a relationship with John, her friendship with Luci, Jim… ancestors, she was tired.

Part of her wondered, briefly, if she could convince Spock to keep all of this on the down low from him -- especially now that it was over. But she didn’t have to know him very well at all to know that that wasn’t an option.

But at least it was over. At least it wasn’t like waking up on Corvid.

At least this was a nightmare that would end.

After checking every Federation and non-Federation ship, the Institute, all of Yorktown… after climbing every building, sliding under every tree, dipping herself deep into water and barging in through every library… Neoma had decided, on a whim, to check for Liana on incoming ships, and was rather floored when it worked. An Aella -- not Liana -- Moore was on a non-Federation supply ship, heading back to Yorktown, and Neoma was going to be there when she docked. It only took a few calls to the captain of that ship to put together the pieces. Liana’d beamed on from a civilian transporter, rather than a Starfleet-specific one -- a transporter that dealt with such a large volume of use that it had no choice but to delete profiles of those who passed through it -- to his ship. She’d been on the base and had been trying to find another ship to lead her elsewhere. It was only a half a day, it seemed, before she’d buckled internally, admitted to him that she’d snuck aboard his ship before shields went up, and requested to take the next return trip with him. He’d agreed, and now she was less than twenty minutes from docking.

And so, here Neoma stood. Waiting for her. In a bustle of laughing, chattering people, moving swiftly and gleefully throughout a shuttle bay. Her pole collapsed at the magnetic belt on her side, her arms crossed, her hair pulled back into a fishtail braid that she thought maybe looked alright whenever she’d done it. She tugged at the tie to let it free from its mess, let her hair fall around her, catch briefly in the wind.

For a moment, it was almost too easy to believe that Liana wouldn’t show up, after all. That the information had been a farce. That she’d reported Liana’s recovery prematurely, and she’d have to resume activities again. That this was a break, and not the end.

But relief touched some distant part of her when she spotted a thin figure walking through the crowds. Dressed in a long white dress, a single book clutched to her chest, as though it’d protect her from the reality she was about to face. Ancestors, Liana looked about as shitty as Neoma felt. Black hollows beneath her eyes, pale, paper-thin skin, body bent in on itself. She stared at the floor with the same guilty expression Meeth wore when he knew he’d done something wrong.

The same expression her girls had had…

Neoma breathed out. Released the fifty hours that’d passed -- released the memory of Amila and Naith pouting -- and focused on the start of this hour, focused on the face of this girl.

The security officer reached out, palm up, and waited until the kid’d walked to her side to drape her arm around her shoulders. She felt Liana stiffen beneath the contact of the half-hug, but Neoma still leaned forward to distribute a kiss in her hair.

“Welcome back, Liana.”

Liana’s head tilted up so painfully slowly -- and when their eyes met, everything in the kid’s face was open, childish, shocked. She was round, and gentle, and small, and… Ancestors, she looked like she was about eleven years old. “H… i.”

Neoma squeezed her with one arm. “You really gave us a fright, you know.”

“I… I did?”

The confusion would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so heartbreaking. Maybe still would’ve been if Neoma hadn’t spent the better part of these past few days fighting that fright.

She smiled, instead of answering -- tapped her with her thumb and began leading her away from the ships. “Where were you off to?” Conversational. Light.

Liana stared back down, once again. Felt a little bit closer to Neoma than she had moments before. “I don’t…” Nearly choked. “I do not know. Just… away. As far away as possible.”

“Well,” with humor in her teeth, “you know, if you want to go far away, the Enterprise is a great place to do it.”

Liana’s lips flattened, and she ducked her head further, but it somehow read almost as a small smile might.

They walked for a bit in silence, and, wow -- how good silence could sound. How good walking could feel! But what sounded even better, y’know, was conversation. Especially conversation that mattered. So…

“I hear you don’t want to be a Betazoid. You don’t want to be an empath. That right?”

She jolted, as though something horrific had been found out. “Y… yes.”

“Why not?”

The sounds of the crowd from the bay were beginning to disperse. It made her pause sound even louder. “I… I want to be normal. I want to be… like everyone else.”

Ha. “You are like everyone else.”

“No.” Her voice was dark, steady, so suddenly it was surprising. It was too much like the Aella Neoma’d met one time in a communications bay. “I am apart from them, and they from me.”

“Apart?” Neoma’d never been fantastic at clamping at her humor -- and now was no exception. A hard laugh, rough and grainy and loud erupted from her.

“W-- what is so funny?” Ah, there she was, again -- the petulant child annoyed with the humor she didn’t understand. ( So much like Amila. So much it burned. ) “That is not funny.”

“Ha… you really have no idea, huh?”

“Of course I do not. That -- that is why I asked.”

“No, no… I meant…” Okay. Stop smiling. Serious Neoma time. “Everyone’s been in a frenzy looking for you. Spock, Reg, John. Casper. ’Ve had to tie almost all of them back from going out to look for you.”

“What? No -- no, you are -- you are lying.”

“What’s the point in lying, Liana? Already got you here.”

She paused. Perhaps, Neoma supposed, to consider that maybe it was true. “R… really?”

“Really really. Do you know how many times I had to wrangle Spock into submission?”

“The -- the commander?”

“Unless there’s two of ‘em.”

“But -- no! W… why would he…? No. He… he must be like this with everyone.”

Neoma was able to temper her amusement back to a chuckle, this time. “Nah. He told me you two were close.”

“What?” She was watching her, now.

“Yup. He gave me a lot of invaluable information about where to look for you, too. I don’t think any of them’s gotten a lick of sleep since your disappearing act.”

“I… oh, I…” Her shock fell into something else. Something small and sad, plain enough for even Neoma to get. “I did not mean to worry them. I did not know they would realize my absence. I -- I just wanted… to be free.”

Free, huh? Neoma sighed -- probably came out more like a huff. Either way, the noise was low, rueful. She didn’t get it. Ties were the best part of life. Hadn’t she just said something like that in the comms a few days ago? Having a spot to call your own, and a sky you knew… that was precious. But…

“Well, my girls wanted to see the stars. They wanted to be free so, so bad. But you don’t have to run away to see the stars. You’re… already in Starfleet.”

“But I…” A frustrated breath from her. “I do not want to be.”

“Why not?”

“I… I do not like it! It is scary, and dangerous. I do not want to live on a ship. I… I do not want to be what she was.”

“Ancestors, kid.” It came out before she could stop it. That she was so vehemently said. “She who?”

Liana’s voice fell low, quiet and stripped and now anything but the acid she’d once tasted. “Aella.”

Oh. Fuck. Well, okay. “Why are you separating them?”

“What?”

“You and her. Who you were and who you are. You’re the same people.”

“N-- no! No!”

Another one? Really? “Sorry, but… yeah.” Neoma recognized the wiggling -- like an animal wanting to be put down -- and so she stopped, turned to face her. Wherever they were now, it was quieter. Less clattering, less people. Neoma pressed both her palms into Liana’s shoulders, watched her shrink, slightly. “Listen to me.” She waited until her gaze lifted, even if was only minute at first. “I used to live beneath a volcano. I’d sleep with a burlap sack over my face, and wake to watch the guar. I hadn’t been ten miles from where I lived. I hated fighting. I just wanted to watch my guar in peace. Fabric like this…” She rubbed at Liana’s shoulders. “I’d never even seen it before. It was a whole different world. And now look at me. I’m a security officer out in space. Lightyears away from where I raised those guar. On ground that isn’t really ground. On a planet that’s not really a planet. Using technology, every day, when the most expensive thing I used to own was… I don’t know. Maybe my staff. And if you’d asked me then where I’d be now… I’d never see it. I’d never see this.”

“Then how did you get here?” By now, Liana was staring at her. Her eyes were large, glassy, fixed. Neoma felt the weight of her attention keyed into every single word. “Why are you here?”

“Things changed. Lot of things changed. And I got new perspective. And... I guess that’s what happened to you, too. No, you don’t know why you’d want to live on a ship, or be in Starfleet. No, it doesn’t make sense to you. But you don’t remember the perspective that made you want to be here. So of course you’re confused. Of course you’re lost. But what… what if you could rediscover that perspective? What if you could learn more about yourself?”

The eyes staring back at her were brimming with tears, now. She opened her mouth twice -- two false-starts -- before she found her voice.

“I… I am scared something would happen to me. To who I am. John tells me he has a Haliaan waiting to heal me… but I do not believe it will heal me. I believe it will kill me.”

“Kill you?”

“Who I am…” Her palm raised from her side, and she stared at it, pressed fingertips against it. “I will be gone. Another person will take her place.”

“No. Hey, look at me. No. Same person. Just new perspective. Okay? And it’s not gonna be like a…” She lifted a hand, only for as long as it took her to snap. “... you know? You may get the perspective and decide… hey. I still want to go to the Institute. I still want to leave Starfleet. And then you can. But then you’ll know, too. And something like sensing someone’s emotions won’t set you off so much that you disappear.”

Eyelashes fluttered, and a tear fell to Liana’s cheek. Neoma moved to wipe at it with the back of her hand. The kid’s eyes shuddered closed from the contact.

“I’m not gonna make you stay in Starfleet, okay? It’s your life. But… if you’re going to leave, I’m gonna make you say goodbye.”

It was supposed to sound almost jesting, that last sentence, but… Liana wasn’t opening her eyes. Wasn’t relaxing again. Fuck. Neoma’d not fucked up, had she?

Neoma was grasping at new words to throw Liana’s way when she spoke again, in a voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by the nothing around them.

“They… really missed me? They really… worried about me?”

“Really, really.”

Liana’s lips thinned, and she stared down at her hand again. Edged a foot a bit against the ground. “Then… then I should at least try. For them.” Tentatively… “After all… there… is nothing more important than family, yes?”

When Neoma laughed this time, she felt it -- felt the joy, the relief, the end of a nightmare. And this time, when she pulled Liana into a hug, she felt a warmth in her belly that would’ve made it nearly impossible not to.

“That’s exactly right, kiddo.”

#( drabble. )#[ IT'S NEOMA AND AELLA INTERACTING IN OHANA!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHH #this is an AU where like... Aella's lost her memory. she goes by Liana. she ran away. it's all Fun and Awful #obviously from Neoma's POV but like... she's the Focus of the story SO!!! POSTING IT HERE TOO!!! ]#v: ad augusta per angusta

4 notes · View notes

neomacaught · 4 years

Text

Nothing More Important

But she’d made a promise. She told them she’d bring her back.

And she would.

But at least it was over. At least it wasn’t like waking up on Corvid.

At least this was a nightmare that would end.

The same expression her girls had had…

Neoma breathed out. Released the fifty hours that’d passed -- released the memory of Amila and Naith pouting -- and focused on the start of this hour, focused on the face of this girl.

“Welcome back, Liana.”

Neoma squeezed her with one arm. “You really gave us a fright, you know.”

“I… I did?”

The confusion would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so heartbreaking. Maybe still would’ve been if Neoma hadn’t spent the better part of these past few days fighting that fright.

She smiled, instead of answering -- tapped her with her thumb and began leading her away from the ships. “Where were you off to?” Conversational. Light.

Liana stared back down, once again. Felt a little bit closer to Neoma than she had moments before. “I don’t…” Nearly choked. “I do not know. Just… away. As far away as possible.”

“Well,” with humor in her teeth, “you know, if you want to go far away, the Enterprise is a great place to do it.”

Liana’s lips flattened, and she ducked her head further, but it somehow read almost as a small smile might.

“I hear you don’t want to be a Betazoid. You don’t want to be an empath. That right?”

She jolted, as though something horrific had been found out. “Y… yes.”

“Why not?”

The sounds of the crowd from the bay were beginning to disperse. It made her pause sound even louder. “I… I want to be normal. I want to be… like everyone else.”

Ha. “You are like everyone else.”

“No.” Her voice was dark, steady, so suddenly it was surprising. It was too much like the Aella Neoma’d met one time in a communications bay. “I am apart from them, and they from me.”

“Apart?” Neoma’d never been fantastic at clamping at her humor -- and now was no exception. A hard laugh, rough and grainy and loud erupted from her.

“W-- what is so funny?” Ah, there she was, again -- the petulant child annoyed with the humor she didn’t understand. ( So much like Amila. So much it burned. ) “That is not funny.”

“Ha… you really have no idea, huh?”

“Of course I do not. That -- that is why I asked.”

“What? No -- no, you are -- you are lying.”

“What’s the point in lying, Liana? Already got you here.”

She paused. Perhaps, Neoma supposed, to consider that maybe it was true. “R… really?”

“Really really. Do you know how many times I had to wrangle Spock into submission?”

“The -- the commander?”

“Unless there’s two of ‘em.”

“But -- no! W… why would he…? No. He… he must be like this with everyone.”

Neoma was able to temper her amusement back to a chuckle, this time. “Nah. He told me you two were close.”

“What?” She was watching her, now.

“Yup. He gave me a lot of invaluable information about where to look for you, too. I don’t think any of them’s gotten a lick of sleep since your disappearing act.”

“Well, my girls wanted to see the stars. They wanted to be free so, so bad. But you don’t have to run away to see the stars. You’re… already in Starfleet.”

“But I…” A frustrated breath from her. “I do not want to be.”

“Why not?”

“I… I do not like it! It is scary, and dangerous. I do not want to live on a ship. I… I do not want to be what she was.”

“Ancestors, kid.” It came out before she could stop it. That she was so vehemently said. “She who?”

Liana’s voice fell low, quiet and stripped and now anything but the acid she’d once tasted. “Aella.”

Oh. Fuck. Well, okay. “Why are you separating them?”

“What?”

“You and her. Who you were and who you are. You’re the same people.”

“N-- no! No!”

“Then how did you get here?” By now, Liana was staring at her. Her eyes were large, glassy, fixed. Neoma felt the weight of her attention keyed into every single word. “Why are you here?”

The eyes staring back at her were brimming with tears, now. She opened her mouth twice -- two false-starts -- before she found her voice.

“I… I am scared something would happen to me. To who I am. John tells me he has a Haliaan waiting to heal me… but I do not believe it will heal me. I believe it will kill me.”

“Kill you?”

“Who I am…” Her palm raised from her side, and she stared at it, pressed fingertips against it. “I will be gone. Another person will take her place.”

Eyelashes fluttered, and a tear fell to Liana’s cheek. Neoma moved to wipe at it with the back of her hand. The kid’s eyes shuddered closed from the contact.

“I’m not gonna make you stay in Starfleet, okay? It’s your life. But… if you’re going to leave, I’m gonna make you say goodbye.”

It was supposed to sound almost jesting, that last sentence, but… Liana wasn’t opening her eyes. Wasn’t relaxing again. Fuck. Neoma’d not fucked up, had she?

Neoma was grasping at new words to throw Liana’s way when she spoke again, in a voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by the nothing around them.

“They… really missed me? They really… worried about me?”

“Really, really.”

“That’s exactly right, kiddo.”

#( drabble. )#v: ad augusta per angusta #[ this will make sense to exactly no one not in the group BUT! aella and neoma interacted for like. KIND OF the first time and i just....#i'm sobbing over it!!!!!#neoma's a security officer and had to go find aella and like!!! wow!!! ]

1 note · View note

katzuyas · 5 years

Photo

read on ao3

"This one looks nice," Phichit says from where he's sprawled over Chris' back and looking over his shoulder at the intricate picture of a sea glass vase Chris has pulled up on his laptop.

"It's green," Chris replies as if that explains everything, and skips to the next one.

"So what? It's perfect! Go back," Phichit tells him and Chris' finger hits the back button with a click. The green vase is full screen again and Phichit gives a content hum. "Look at it. So pretty."

"They have nothing green in their flat, though. It's going to stand out too much," Chris says and skips back a few times to a blue vase they saw earlier. "Now, this one? That's perfect. And it matches Victor's eyes."

"But that will just blend in and become invisible," Phichit argues. "It's better to have some pop of colour to keep the life exciting, don't you think?"

He pokes Chris' cheek with a finger.

Trophée de France has just come to an end with a gold around Chris' neck and a bronze on Phichit, and they have found themselves locked in Chris' hotel room two hours before the banquet, desperately searching for a housewarming present for their best friends who are throwing a party in about a week – a day after the Rostelecom Cup. Time is of the essence, but as far as presents go it's obligatory that best friends need to give the best ones – that's just common sense.

It's also the source of their dilemma.

"Their apartment is in shades of white, light blue and gray," Chris insists, turning his head to Phichit. "It'd be just as bad as wanting to give them a red one. It'll clash with everything, and Victor will put it in the basement, and we'll have wasted the money and effort on it."

"Are you insinuating I have no sense of style?" Phichit asks. He lifts off Chris' back and looks down at him through narrowed eyes. "That I can't pick a gift both useful and pretty for my best friend's housewarming party?"

"You said it, not me," Chris says as he turns back to the screen. It's not really an disagreement against what Phichit has said, which has Phichit's dark eyes only darken more in the anger that begins to simmer in his veins. "But look, Yuuri's favourite colour is blue, isn't it? It'd be nicer to get it in blue."

"Just because he likes blue doesn't mean he wants to have everything in blue. Oh my god, are you a child?" Phichit gives an annoyed huff. He gets off the bed, walks around it and takes his bag of toiletries out of his suitcase just to have something to do with the nasty energy suddenly coursing through his body. "There is such a thing as knowing when too much is too much, you know. Going matchy matchy isn't always a good thing."

"So, according to you, a green vase in a predominantly gray, white and blue-toned space isn't too much?"

Chris lifts an eyebrow at Phichit, ridiculously calm and collected, as if he knows he is right and he's only waiting for Phichit to blow up. It only serves to have Phichit's jaw clench to hold back a snarky response. He doesn't want to argue, he doesn't want to–

"Darling, we really need to talk about your taste," Chris adds, and that is the last straw.

Phichit rears his head fast and hard, like a horse that's about to trample up a body into a bloody mess.

"Yeah, we clearly do, because I'm dating you," he spits. "What would I know about taste?"

Chris looks stricken for one precious second, during which Phichit bathes in momentary triumph. The feeling goes away as soon as Chris' face darkens, though. He sits up on the bed with a scowl that means business, and for a brief second Phichit regrets his words. But as soon as Chris opens his mouth again, all thoughts of regret fly out of Phichit's head.

"Are we resorting to insults now?" Chris asks, poised calm that is a front and a lie, and they both know it.

"You started it," Phichit bites back.

"I started it?" Chris asks, incredulous. "You called me a child!"

"And you said I have no sense of style!" Phichit points out, jabbing a finger in Chris' general direction. "Or taste! How is that not starting it?"

"I didn't mean it like that and you know it," Chris defends. "Don't put meaning behind my words that I didn't put there myself."

"Well, that's how I heard it," Phichit says and it comes out far more aggressive than he means.

Chris' mouth sets in a firm line and Phichit can clearly see the moment his teeth bite down on the words he wants to speak, because a muscle jumps in Chris' jaw in a manner that is oddly endearing, and doubly as hot. The air around them gets warmer, but it isn't just warmth – it's passion, and fire, and heat of attraction that Phichit can't deny he feels when he looks at Chris' stone-hard anger.

"Just because you think you heard me say something, doesn't mean I actually said it," Chris says then, voice dripping deadly quiet.

He's one of those people who go cold in their rage instead of becoming the centre of the solar flare outbursts, like Phichit himself is prone to. And it shows. It shows, because the calm on Chris' face awakens something in Phichit, brings his blood to a boil.

"I don't think I heard you, I did hear you. Because you said it! Don't deny it now!"

"Well I didn't mean it how you understood it, then," Chris presses once again. "And you'd know it, if you only thought about it before speaking."

There's a thrum in Phichit's veins, a buzz under his skin. He needs to move, spend this weird energy in a healthy way, or he'll do something he's going to regret. Like punch a wall and wear a cast for the unforeseeable future, or worse – kick the bed and sprain his toes or ankle or both, and fuck up his skating for the next weeks, which were crucial if he wanted to get to the Grand Prix Final.

Without thinking much more, he snaps into action and walks away from the bed.

"Where are you going?"

Chris scrambles off the bed to follow him and Phichit turns only to tell him that he can't be here anymore if he wants to be whole and keep skating, but all words freeze on his tongue when he meets Chris' gaze.

Green isn't usually a very cold colour, but when Phichit looks into Chris' eyes then, it might as well be. He looks... he looks...

Phichit takes a breath, but the words slip out of his mouth before he can even think about it.

"Fuck, you look so hot when I'm angry at you."

Chris doesn't look surprised at it at all, which makes Phichit think he must have been thinking something similar, but he can't really focus on Chris' motivations anymore. The way Chris' curls sweep across his forehead... his arms uncross from his chest showing off his strong shoulders and biceps... his jaw muscles move when he forcibly unclenches his teeth... Phichit's mind is in the gutter and falls, falls hard to the very bottom of it without any chance of salvation.

Chris walks up to him with quick decisive steps and grabs the back of Phichit's head none too gently to bring his face up. His eyes are still glazed with ice and it is a thrill that Phichit never expected to feel.

"We're going to talk about this later," Chris says in a tone that allows for no arguments.

Phichit doesn't reply, not that would if he could, the lexicon of his vocabulary narrows down to 'fuck', 'he's hot', 'ah shit', and 'I want him' and it's all that seems to be running through his mind then and there. With his tongue tied, he can't say much, but words (or the lack thereof) have never stopped Phichit Chulanont from doing what he wanted, and so he does it once more – he lifts onto the tips of his toes and presses his mouth hard against Chris', who doesn't need to be invited twice and drags him back to the bed.

There's nothing gentle about it: they tear the clothes off each other, pull on collars and waistbands, bite into skin where the lips miss. Phichit hears his shirt rip somewhere along the hem when Chris tugs on it to pull him into another kiss, but he can't care. His own finger catches in a zipper of Chris' jeans and he gives a little hiss that Chris swallows with his mouth firmly pressed to Phichit's.

They're tired from skating, yes, a burn of overworked muscles is a constant reminder with every single move they make, but the heat that crawls over their skin is more pressing, more insistent, and when they give into it, it's not difficult to forget about the other aches of their body and give into one – the ache of being joined into one.

On all fours, Phichit pants into the sheets while Chris' teeth mark the back of his neck and down his shoulders. The heavy press of the erection that is so close to being in him, but still not there is driving him mad.

"Fuck me already," Phichit nearly growls. He needs it. The release, the outlet for the energy that has built up in his body.

He bucks against Chris and the dark growl he gets in return sets him on fire all over again. Chris's arm slides around his hips and the thick girth rubs between his ass cheeks, but it's only more of the same teasing.

"Chris–" Phichit warns, but his voice is gone with a gasp when Chris' hand grips his length and squeezes.

Stars burst along Phichit's vision, but the heavy heat that pulses between his legs keeps him from drifting into space. He's grounded by the steady jerking of Chris' wrist, yet it's not enough. He bites his lip, groaning in frustration at the back of his throat.

"Fuck me," he grits out. He tries to buck into Chris' dick again, but Chris' free hand bites into his hip so hard, Phichit is sure it'll bruise. Good. "Chris, you fucking cocktease, if you don't fuck me this instant I'm getting dressed and leaving, and you can die of blueballs for all I care."

He throws a glare over his shoulder, but it helps him none. Chris looks down at him with a dark look in his eyes that are no less cold than they were before.

"At least they'd be blue, not green," he says.

Phichit forgets to breathe when he registers that Christophe Giacometti is talking about a fucking vase while his dick is rubbing against Phichit's balls, and he gives an angry snarl. He shifts with the intension of getting up, but Chris' big hand pushes between his shoulder blades and Phichit lands with his face in the sheets instead. He glares up at Chris, who braces his hand next to Phichit's head after tangling his fingers in his hair. The pull of it hurts Phichit's neck, but he says nothing about it, because Chris thrusts his hips and his dick slips between Phichit's thighs.

It's a little raw, a bit uncomfortable, since there is nothing to lessen the friction of skin on skin, but it's still feels good. Too good to consider the consequences.

"Squeeze your legs, damnit," Chris pants above him, and Phichit follows the order – not because he was told to, but because Chris' cold mask breaks when he clenches his thighs around his dick. "Merde..."

Merde is right, Phichit thinks while Chris' dick rubs against his balls with each thrust. Chris' other hand that stilled on Phichit's own dick before now tightens again and the warmth and pressure feel heavenly along with the hard ramming of Chris' hips. Phichit's close to release, he can feel the telling warmth that grows in his abdomen, but Chris' groans grow in volume too, so he's sure he isn't far off himself.

It's now or never, he thinks, when a brilliant idea comes to his mind.

"Whoever comes first loses," he challenges between moans.

Chris' eyes glean over for a brief second, and then he bites: "Fine."

With even more vigour, Chris rams into Phichit while his hand begins to work his dick once more, and it feels like too much, too soon, like he's going to lose for sure, but Phichit clenches his teeth and his ass, and the muscles in highs thighs bunch up into a hardness that makes Chris mewl. He bows over Phichit and comes with a cry that he muffles by biting into Phichit's shoulder.

Phichit yelps, but it rolls into a moan when Chris' hand unconsciously squeezes his dick, and it sends him over the edge as well.

They slump together afterwards, spent and panting, but they refuse to look at each other. Sex between them was never awkward, not even when they were drunk enough to fumble with zippers and miss kisses by a mile. Now, however, it's more than awkward; it's tense and heavy and Phichit hates it.

"Let's take the blue one," he says finally when the quiet begins to chill his skin enough to shiver.

Chris huffs out a breath, which sounds like it contains the remainder of his resistance.

"No, it's fine," Chris says. "I lost, so we'll get the green one."

Phichit turns to look at him, but Chris is avoiding his gaze. He's facing the ceiling while his chest heaves heavy breaths, still. The fight drains out of Phichit's bones along with the last warmth of the orgasm, and he sighs before sitting up on one elbow. He gently reaches for Chris' cheek

"I'm sorry I said all of that," he says. "I just... I wanted the green one because it reminded me of your eyes."

Said eyes widen now, and then return to normal, yet not fully: they're softer now, warmer, and Phichit feels a bit silly about not admitting to it before everything went out of control.

"You should've told me that sooner," Chris says back.

Phichit only gives him a sheepish smile. He doesn't get to apologize again, because it's Chris' turn, apparently.

"I'm sorry, too," Chris says. He takes Phichit's hand and kisses the centre of his palm. "I shouldn't have said all of that either. You have fabulous taste and I never meant to insult it."

Phichit narrows his eyes at him. "Are you saying that now because I complimented your eyes or do you really mean it?"

The little smile that curls at the corner of Chris' mouth is both adorable and teasing, and Phichit slaps a hand over it with a groan.

"You're awful," he complains.

"Mmmphm," Chris says into his palm and Phichit tentatively pulls back his hand to allow him to repeat himself: "I love you, too."

Phichit slams his hand back down before he fluidly rolls off the bed. With his back to Chris he can hide his blush, but he can't hide the happy beating of his heart from himself. It doesn't matter, though. Not because Chris doesn't care, but because a kiss is pressed to the small of Phichit's back and Chris' arms wrap around his waist from behind. Warm breath in the dip of his spine makes Phichit shiver.

"We're going to be late to the banquet if we don't shower right now," Phichit says.

Chris nuzzles his cheek against the bare expanse of Phichit's back. His stubble is a little scratchy against Phichit's skin, but it doesn't feel bad. It doesn't feel bad at all. Actually, it feels rather nice...

Phichit takes a deep breath and steps out of Chris' arms.

"Shower. Now," Phichit says. He's by the bathroom door when he realizes Chris has not moved from the bed and he looks back. "You coming? Or should I find something else pretty and green to occupy myself with in there?"

Chris clicks away on the laptop for a second longer and then stands up and strolls over with a grace of someone who knows he's hot and the confidence of a guy who just got laid and was going to get some again soon. Phichit almost snorts.

He does snort when Chris stops next to him and cocks a hip out with an added eyebrow wiggle that makes it utterly impossible to stay serious.

"Ordered the vase," Chris says. "You can't expect a gold medallist working for free like that, so... what do I get for my hard work?"

"A face full of ass," Phichit replies, turns back and slaps a hand on his bare ass before he saunters into the bathroom.

He catches the gobsmacked look on Chris' face in the mirror right as it turns into delight, and he can't help his own laughter: they truly are a pair of dummies.

(Chris gets the promised face full of ass later that night when he eats Phichit out so devoutly that Phichit swears they need to argue more often, because if that is the treatment he gets out of it, then he's more than happy to suffer through a few minutes of being upset.)

(For that Chris makes him come two more times and by the time they falls asleep Phichit isn't so sure anymore.)

(Next morning he wakes up to Chris' mouth around his dick, milking him dry, and he's sure again... but then he realizes that truly, with Chris nothing ever is certain and that's what he loves about him the most: the uncertainty, the excitement and the adventure.)

#yuri on ice #phichimetti #phichit chulanont #christophe giacometti #phichris #my fic #to celebrate me not getting into the phichimetti zine here you have a small little thing I wrote over a year ago #THIS IS LEMON #AND IT MEANS THERE ARE BALLS AND OTHER DEVICES IN USE #READ AT YOUR OWN RISK #😂😂😂

21 notes · View notes

sweetsweetnathan · 5 years

Text

Robyn and the Elements

Robyn would not describe his training with the Conjurers of Gridania as “pleasant”. It was not that the training was difficult-- the effort required for Thaumaturgy and his brief stint suffering through the personalities at the Arcanist’s guild were both more arduous than anything the Conjurers had thrown at him. No, as was always the case practically everywhere he went Robyn found his peers unjustly offended by his many completely reasonable questions.

“Alright, I have another idea for you,” Robyn spoke with eccentric energy to E-Sumi-Yan, the slim-figured leader of the Conjurer’s Guild. E-Sumi-Yan was a patient man, having far too much to do to humor Robyn’s, yet addressing them nonetheless. E-Sumi-Yan believed that there were no foolish questions, and that if a person approaches their studies with enough initiative to as an unusual question then that person should be encouraged rather than dismissed.

If E-Sumi-Yan was a more cynical man, he might believe Robyn was deliberately antagonizing that exact belief.

“Lava magic. Thoughts?”

E-Sumi-Yan sighed. “Is that even a complete sentence?”

“So Conjuration gives the Conjurer command over, like, the aether in the earth, right?”

“Wrong,” E-Sumi-Yan said, “it manipulates the aether within the earth. It commands nothing.”

Robyn waved his hand dismissively, “Yeah, but the result is the same, right? The Conjurer can tell the earth where to go and the earth will go there.”

“With about a million caveats.”

Robyn said, “We’ll get to those. So I know some Thaumaturgy--”

“You’ve mentioned this,” E-Sumi-Yan said. On several occasions, he thought.

“--I mean, it’s probably not this simple, but what if I cast a little bit of fire magic on the earth I’m throwing around? Or a lot of fire magic? So much that my fire magic and my earth magic make...”

“Lava magic.” E-Sumi-Yan grumbled.

“Yes! What do you think?”

E-Sumi-Yan sighed, “Robyn... Do you really think you’re the first person to ever think of this?” Robyn’s face went from jubilant and focused to the shape of a deflated balloon. E-Sumi-Yan continued, “Thaumaturgy is an expression of one’s internal aether. I can see why it appeals to you: You call and the aether comes. But like I said before, Conjuration deals with the Elements. Earth magic exists by the grace of Earth Elementals. Same with air and water magic. These life-giving elements are not beholden to the whims of mortals. And it’s good that they aren’t; what kind of world would we live in if someone could freely control the water in the ground, or the clouds in the sky?”

E-Sumi-Yan knew he should stop there and let Robyn sit with that question. It was the wiser course of action: Let Robyn come to his own conclusions. His defiant attitude, his inability to see Conjuration for what it was, his desire to subjugate aether that didn’t belong to him, it would only hold him back. The person who suffered the most from Robyn’s shortcomings was Robyn himself.

And yet for all the same reasons E-Sumi-Yan felt a powerful, imperious impulse. It wasn’t enough for Robyn to learn the right way. He must also know that his is the wrong way.

“That aether just doesn’t belong to you.” E-Sumi-Yan said. Robyn’s eyes were distant and defeated before this, but now they awakened with fire and contradiction. E-Sumi-Yan immediately recognized his error: He’s young, he thought, far too young to appreciate that sentiment.

Robyn bowed and departed without another word, but E-Sumi-Yan knew the seed he had sewn in the young man’s heart. Robyn saw Conjuration as a challenge. And like many before him, he was doomed to fail.

In the center of New Gridania there stands a bridge, and beside that bridge flows a river streaming out from a waterfall. Next to that waterfall one could almost altogether forget they were in a city. Robyn had perched himself on a rock with his back to that waterfall and his eyes cast downwards and the gentle stream to which it gave birth. He looked deep into the water, watching the light of the sun cast webs of dancing caustic light under the river’s surface. The sun is made of fire... If the aether of Conjuration is so exclusive, then why can the light of the sun penetrate the water? Does it allow itself to be penetrated? Are these “elementals” intelligent enough for that?

Suddenly a massive stone landed in the water right in front of Robyn, splashing water on his face. Robyn rubbed his eyes furiously.

“Who the hell--?”

“Hey!” Evadaro yelled from the nearby bridge, “Break’s over!”

Robyn stood and stretched in the sunlight. Summer reminded him of home and always made him want to find somewhere with shade and read. In Ul’dah the summers would constantly get so hot as to make any sort of manual labor nearly impossible. As such summertime was a particularly lethargic time of year for much of Robyn’s life, and he often found himself trying to conserve energy whenever he could. Simply put, he was lazy. But Evadaro was right: They had a job to do.

For it was not Robyn’s hobbyistic interest in Conjuration that brought the pair to Gridania. Following their disagreements with the established authorities in Limsa Lominsa, they had been assigned as emissaries to Gridania. It was their job to work as peacekeeping retainers at the behest of the Gridanian leadership. In Robyn’s more optimistic moments, he called Evadaro and himself “Agents of the free cities”. Most times though, he felt more like a sell-sword.

“There’s been a chronic disturber of the peace up in North Shroud.” Evadaro explained, “Some fool drunk that comes around the Mi’qote tribes thinking their women are for sale.”

Evadaro was practically spitting the words on the ground as he spoke them. Robyn knew Evadaro well enough that he felt comfortable drawing a few conclusions: He knew Evadaro had spent some free time with the Mi’qote of North Shroud. In fact, Evadaro stayed there several nights within the last week. Robyn would assume Evadaro had found a girl there to fancy, were Evadaro not so serious about the whole business. No, if it were a girl then Evadaro would be bragging about it. He’d wear his heart on his sleeve and show it to everyone who would bother to look. Evadaro found something else among those Mi’qote, something deeper than a summertime tryst.

Robyn could reason out that much, but the exact nature of that “something deeper” was a mystery to him. He felt no strong desire to prod into Evadaro’s business though. If he wants me to know, he’ll tell me. Until then it’s his business.

A thick canopy of leaves blocked all but the most persistent shafts of sunlight from disturbing the depths of North Shroud. The lessened light put Robyn on alert, while Evadaro strode through the forest with vigorous pride.

“I’ve been meaning to take you out here for a while,” Evadaro said, “I’m interested to know what you think of the food the tribe serves. And their music-- they play lots of music. No amphitheater, they don’t have that...”

Evadaro went on like this the whole walk to the village. Robyn was genuinely interested, though there was only so much words could do to build his anticipation. It’s all alien, Robyn thought, stuff for which I have no frame of reference. Maybe that’s what Evadaro loves so much about it: That it’s different. Or perhaps it’s the opposite... Maybe it makes him feel at home.

Nothing in Gridania made Robyn feel at home. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he knew his senses were less attuned to the complexity of the forest than Evadaro’s were. Growing up in Ul’dah Robyn simply never imagined a forest could produce as many colors as a single tree did in Black Shroud. The ground was uneven. Rain came frequently, and was just as quickly flooding the streets as it was dispersing. It was all an assault on Robyn’s Hyur senses that Evadaro was in many ways better prepared for as a Mi’qote.

They came upon the Mi’qote village very suddenly, such that Robyn hardly knew it was there before they set foot in it. The village was more like an encampment by Robyn’s reckoning. It had no standing buildings, its people instead living in pitched tents, hollowed out trees, and nests made of fallen branches. It was a homestead made entirely without disturbing the land around it.

Immediately the disturbance in the village was obvious: All was quiet except for a tavern near the middle of the town, where a Hyur man raved, “I’m here to see my wife and daughter, ya hear! And not a single one of you is gonna deny me that right!”

A Mi’qote woman stood at the entrance of the tavern, her patrons looking out as she blocked the way of the man. She said, “You have no such right here. Go home.”

“I’m a knight you know,” the man said, “I could have this place ravaged! My friends and I could scour every one of you from this forest! We’ll say you were harboring Garleans. We’ll say you trafficked in cat-flesh. We’ll say whatever we want! No one cares about your primitive lifestyle! Now if you don’t give me my due visitation with my child, I’ll be forced to enforce my rights violently!”

Here he drew a sword on the Mi’qote woman. She hissed to his face, “You’re a knight who would bear steel against a defenseless woman?”

The Knight gripped the woman by her collar. “I would bear steel against anyone who got in between me and what's mine.”

“I’m your huckleberry,” Evadaro said.

The Knight dropped the woman and slowly turned, hatred in his eyes.

The Knight scanned Evadaro before saying, “Do I know you, boy?”

Evadaro stood perfectly still for a moment. Robyn said nothing either; this was Evadaro’s lead to take, and Robyn could practically hear Evadaro’s heart pounding with righteous indignation.

Suddenly Evadaro drew his sword and stabbed it into the ground. “You were knighted in Ul’dah, yeah? Well so was I. One of the oaths I took was to always offer my enemy a one-on-one fight when I had the chance.”

The Knight studied this gesture carefully. He was a wicked man, but he wasn’t a fool. He said, “We don’t have to be enemies, you and I. Help me get what I want and we can share the spoils.”

There was no response from Evadaro, only a cold, hateful stare. The wind shook the limbs of the trees and waning sunlight danced over the space between Evadaro and the Knight. The Knight shrugged and said, “Very well.”

The Knight stepped forwards slowly, giving Evadaro time to pull his weapon from the ground. “You sure about this?” Robyn whispered. Evadaro gave him no reply.

Evadaro and the Knight let their weapons touch. They were in striking distance of each other. There was no one to signal the beginning of their bout, so the two were forced to watch each other and wait for an opportunity; a blink, a sideways-glancing eye, and leaf turning over the wrong way...

It was Evadaro that moved first, seizing the initiative by slicing at his opponent’s arm. The Knight recoiled and the dance began: The Knight was taller, his reach longer, and each blow flew with more weight behind it than Evadaro could ever muster. But Evadaro was quick, and more than that he was tough. In the same moment his opponent’s sword met his, he was darting past it and lunging for the Knight’s body. At first Robyn couldn’t tell if it was a bout to first blood, or a real life-and-death fight. But when he saw the Knight raise his sword above his head and bring it down towards Evadaro’s skull, all ambiguity was done away with.

Evadaro dodged with a leap, then responded with a lethal attack of his own. He jutted his sword towards the Knight’s neck, and when the Knight went to parry it, disengaged and cut the man’s chest.

Robyn’s heart lept as he saw the Knight’s blood stain the ground. It was a shallow cut, nothing that would incapacitate a trained soldier, but a cut nonetheless. The Knight was aware of his wound and staggered back to examine it. But more than that, he examined the village around him. He saw the Mi’qote he wished to terrorize as they watched him bleed. After all his threats he stood undone, invalidated, reduced; no longer was he a knight who threatened to burn their village if they didn’t obey him. This cut was a moment of weakness that would forever indicate him as a lesser evil of the world, someone entirely capable of boasting from sunrise to sunset, but entirely incapable of acting on it.

The Knight growled and charged Evadaro, swinging wildly. Evadaro didn’t bother to parry. Doing so would only damage his sword. He backed up until the Knight was out of breath and covered in his own blood. It didn’t matter that the wound wasn’t fatal. One does not need to lose much blood before simple movements become nearly impossibly taxing.

Evadaro pointed his sword at the panting Knight, “It’s over. I have drawn first blood. Put down your sword and leave this place. Never return.”

The Knight gripped his sword, “No! No, I will not be denied! I will not!”

His eyes darted around. Evadro grew tense, expecting the Knight to employ another maneuver to try and defeat him. Within a heartbeat Evadaro realized that the Knight’s plan was far worse.

The Knight dashed to the tavern and grabbed the woman that had opposed him before, who was watching at its entrance. He held his sword to her throat, so close that it parted the flesh and stained his blade red.

“Bring me my child!” He demanded, “Bring me my child or this woman will di--”

Suddenly his words failed him. The Knight dropped his sword and unhanded the woman. His hands went to his throat and his eyes went wide with terror. Evadaro looked on with uncertain fear. “What’s going on?” He said aloud and looked around. Answers were nowhere to be found. On looking over his shoulder however he found...

Nobody noticed the green tinge to the air until they saw Robyn’s hand outstretched, arched and gripping the aether in the air around the Knight. He pulled the air into a vortex, creating a vacuum centered on the Knight. The end result was the air was pulled from the Knight’s lungs.

Evadaro could do nothing but watch. The whole village was silent, save for the Knight’s struggle for breath. Robyn felt like a mad genius the whole time, and he knew he looked the part. Has anyone ever thought of this E-Sumi-Yan?

Then something happened that hadn’t occurred since the Calamity. Robyn felt it happen before he saw the effects. It was a mystery to him how he perceived what had happened, but perceive it he did, like a memory that leaped to the forefront of his mind despite lacking any relevant stimulus. The aether cut itself off from Robyn.

The vortex Robyn created dissipated. The Knight fell to the ground, unconscious but alive. Understanding what had just happened, Robyn was frozen in shock. He saw Evadaro exchange pleasantries with the woman who owned the tavern but heard not a word they said. He focused in on himself and found that indeed, his own aether was still there. But when he raised his hand skyward and called upon the elements...

Earth...

Air...

Water...

Nothing answered.

#Robyn Sawyer #robyn and evadaro #Evadaro Amberwyne #my writing #ffxiv #fan fiction

3 notes · View notes

imaginesfromdiahell · 6 years

Note

Can you do some Sakimaki headcannons? ^^ How they act with their S/O is fine. Thanks!!! HUGE fan btw. I love you guys! You're so amazing!!! ❤ And because Mod Rosie adopted Azuza, I'd love to babysit xD I'LL BE THE BEST BABYSITTER TO EVER LIVE I SWEAR!!!

Hi, yes, hello, this is Mod Rosie, I’ll need a babysitter when I return to college so that sounds like a solid plan my man

anyway here’s ur headcanons

Shu

He would be significantly more expressive. And by that I mean not very much, but noticeably more emotive.

He’s surprisingly pretty good at communicating. He just says what’s on his mind whenever he feels like it and is very, very direct about what he wants. It’s good, but it can be flustering from time to time.

Not very fond of pet names. He’ll accept some modest ones like “babe” or “dear” but if you call him Shu Bear he might murder.

Most of all, he’s definitely more emotional, at least around his s/o. He wouldn’t be scared of expressing himself, whether that be in joy (like sending really, really adorable pictures of animals or his favorite composition at the time) or sadness (like crying).

Also, if you don’t expect cuddling in bed with his s/o you are very, very wrong. Shu is extremely cuddly when alone with his s/o.

He’s not a fan of PDA per se, just because he thinks that when other people do it, it’s gross. That being said, if he wants to hold his s/o’s hand, his s/o’s hand will be held. End of story. On that note, he likes holding hands.

Reiji

Reiji is a ton more sarcastic around his s/o. Lots of dry and dark humor. It’s basically the stuff he would sort of chuckle to himself when doing busywork alone, but now he has someone to listen!

That being said, he tends to ramble on a lot. He really likes it when his s/o just sort of sits there and listens to him, because he has a lot to say, and no one aside from him to really give a shit. He’ll never admit it under normal circumstances, but he appreciates that immensely.

He MELTS under praise. Even if he seems to be completely unphased, it’s not true. He is lying. Even calling him cute simply destroys him. This poor boy has been neglected his entire life this is a literal blessing to him.

He’s definitely a lot more lenient with his s/o than anyone else in the godforsaken mansion, but he’s also a lot stricter when it comes to his s/o’s safety. This can cause a lot of fights, and Reiji, since it’s about the person he loves, can get very emotional in them. He genuinely means well, for once, so the best one can do is sit down and talk to him.

He will start petty disagreements over nothing just to pester his s/o. You think that blazer is red? No bitch, it’s blood orange.

He avoids PDA entirely, as he sees it as impolite, but you can bet your ass that if he’s sitting next to his s/o on the couch, his arm will be around them.

Ayato

Definitely a ton more open with his s/o. A lot less of the “I’m the greatest” schtick, since he can trust them with anything. He has no doubts that his s/o will love him for who he is, so he tends to let his guard down a lot.

He smiles a lot more!!!! How could he not!!!!!! He’s just so god damn in love!!!!!!!!! The living embodiment of the “i love my fuckign girlfriend” meme.

EXTREMELY physical, and I don’t even mean this in a sexual way. He just loves physical contact. It’s reassuring to him; he knows it’s not a dream, it’s real, he genuinely has someone he’s in love with that loves him back. Whether it’s by hand-holding, arm around their shoulders, hugging, or anything else, Ayato is always attached to his s/o.

Very doting. If his s/o was in a bind, he would move mountains to help them. Number one most supportive boyfriend. Would literally put his entire being on the line for his s/o because god damn he is just so fucking in love. As you can see, Ayato never does anything half-ass, romance included.

Definitely not the traditional romantic; unless his s/o really wanted it, he would never do like fancy candlelit dinners and shit. He focuses more on what he thinks he and his s/o will enjoy the most. He’d probably also enjoy lazy nights at the mansion a lot, too.

Would definitely write the sappiest love songs and serenade the FUCK out of his s/o.

Kanato

If you expected the yandere to tone down, you’re wrong. It tones the fuck up. He’s highkey extremely possessive and gets jealous easier than any of the other guys. His s/o’s hanging out with another boy???who is this boy????where is he from????can I kill him immediately this second????? It would definitely cause a lot of arguments, but he means it out of love.

TEA PARTY DATES

Kanato’s favorite thing is resting his head in his s/o’s lap, with his s/o stroking his hair. They don’t even have to be talking; just the two of them there enjoying each other is enough for him.

Surprisingly also very supportive, but in a more destructive way. S/o wants a new job? Okay, shred up every other application so they have to hire you. S/o wants to be the new student council president? No problem, just sabotage the other candidate.

That being said, he does genuinely listen to his s/o, and would probably (begrudgingly) tone down the shit if they were angry. He’d still get highkey frustrated and take it out in other ways though. Like baking!

Bakes apology cakes because he is not very good at expressing himself in words.

Laito

Hopeless romantic. Is anyone surprised? Nope, and neither would his s/o be when they discover his bedroom lit by only candles with rose petals on the bed.

Number one best listener! He listens to everything with genuine care and tries to give the best advice possible! Unfortunately, his plan usually involves intercourse in some way shape or form so it never really works. Like, ever.

He cares about the little things. It’s not that he’s obsessed or living in a bubble, he just really wants his s/o to be happy. He’ll do almost anything for his s/o, aside from maybe murder depending on the day. Well, killing in the name of your s/o is kinda romantic, so maybe.

Loves seeing his s/o in expensive things. Fancy clothes, fancy jewelry, fancy shoes, fancy ;) lingerie ;) so he tends to spoil them quite a bit.

Contrary to popular belief, his mind is not always in the gutter. It’s like, usually at least half a step away, but he genuinely enjoys going on casual dates that don’t lead to intercourse, like stargazing. He loves stargazing.

Probably the only brother actually into PDA, so here’s to hoping his s/o at least doesn’t mind it.

Subaru

This boy makes a conscious effort day in and day out to be as gentle as possible at all times. He’s scared to even hug his s/o too hard. Once he gets past that initial fear, in private, he is by far the most affectionate out of the brothers. If he and his s/o have time alone to cuddle, no if and or buts. It’s happening.

He only gives gifts on anniversaries and holidays, but his gifts are always extremely well thought out and have some sort of meaning to them. He puts a lot of effort into picking something he thinks his s/o would genuinely love.

Pal, Subaru would die if called by a pet name. Darling, sweetheart, honey, love, he melts every single time and gets this cute little giddy grin on his face.

Subaru is all-around very cautious about what to do with an s/o. He always asks before doing anything. Even something as little as holding their hand. He’s all about keeping them as comfortable as possible.

He’d definitely try to be super romantic but probably fall short of something traditional and beat himself up over it, but it always ends up being sweet and well thought out. He just wants the best for his s/o and tries very hard to make everything special.

He also isn’t a huge fan of PDA. Too shy. Plus lord knows Kou would not shut up about it if he saw Subaru being super duper fucking adorable with his s/o.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #diahell #imaginesfromdiahell #shu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #sakamaki brothers #imagine #headcanons #ask #iimysteriousii #rosie #headcanon

902 notes · View notes

cassiopeiassky · 6 years

Text

Size, Lies, and Rolled Eyes: The Great Christmas Tree Debacle

Hello all! This is my submission for @lovelynemesis Sam’s Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree Writing Challenge. My prompt was 21. “This tree is way too small.” “Size doesn’t matter.” “Oh, size matters.”

It’s safe to say that I had a lot of fun with this. Special shout out to @ms-potts-to-you for encouraging me and assuring me that it doesn’t suck. I’ve only edited this once, so please be gentle.

Word count: 2589

Bucky x Reader

Warning: A lot of really bad double entendres and innuendos, but nothing actually explicit. Serious warning: there is some harassment.

You take in the clear, almost sharp blue sky as you inhale the cold air that makes your lungs prickle; it’s the perfect day to visit the tree farm. Christmas music mingles in the air with the scent of the pine trees surrounding you - ooh, and there’s a hint of smoke from the campfire that is the site of mass marshmallow casualties as kids and their equally excited parents do their best to make s’mores with mittened fingers. A smile crosses your face as you take in the cheery surroundings and the families searching for the perfect Christmas tree; you absolutely live for this season.

“What about this one?” Your boyfriend’s excited voice captures your attention and you turn to look where he’s pointing.

You cock your head to the side as you appraise the tree Bucky suggested. “No, Buck, I don’t think so.” You give yourself bonus points for the rather diplomatic answer considering he knows damn well that this tree doesn’t meet your strict criteria.

“But why? He’s cute, kinda like Charlie Brown’s tree.”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “He?”

“Oh yeah, I named him,” Bucky confirms with a nod.

If you’d thought your eyebrows couldn’t get any higher, you’d be wrong. “You named a tree?”

“Not just any tree,” Bucky smiles proudly. “I named our Christmas tree. His name is Harold.”

“Harold,” you deadpan.

Bucky nods excitedly as he gently picks some dead needles from a branch. “He just needs some love. This tree could be perfect!”

You blink at your boyfriend, somewhat confused because he actually sounds serious. “Okay, have you met me? This isn’t our first Christmas together - you know that tree won’t work.” You really aren’t trying to sit on his bubble, but this tree is less than half the size of what the two of you had agreed on. In fact, Bucky loves tall Christmas trees, so what gives?

He sighs, and it sounds a lot like grudging defeat. “Yeah, I do know, I just, I dunno, I kinda feel sorry for him. Just because he’s ugly doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve to be wanted.”

“See? You just admitted it was ugly.”

“Well…yeah…in an ‘it’s so ugly it’s cute’ kinda way…”

You cock an unimpressed eyebrow as you cross your arms. “You’re stretching, Barnes.”

He licks his lips before changing strategies. “Babe.”

You roll your eyes at his not entirely unsuccessful attempt to be adorable.

“No, hear me out Babe,” he beseeches as he uncrosses your arms to take both your hands into his.

You can’t help the smile that creeps over your face at the sight of his puppy eyes. “Okay, fine. I’m listening.” If he really wants this tree, maybe you can make it work. Maybe.

“I was this tree,” Bucky begins, completely serious.

“What?”

“I was this tree. I was lonely, and sad, and ugly,”

“Oh my God, Bucky, you’ve never been ugly a day in your life!”

He opens his mouth as if to object, but then closes it again before conceding your point. “Okay fine, but I was lonely and sad.” He suddenly turns up the charm by 200% as he hooks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “But then you came into my life and showed me what love is, and your unconditional love and affection is what turned me into this irresistible arm candy you have today. We could do the same for Harold.”

You laugh as you put your arms around his waist, tugging him in for a kiss. “I do love you.”

“And I love you,” he presses his lips to yours again, almost verging on indecent considering you’re in a family place.

“And you are irresistible,” you admit between smooches.

“I try,” he whispers as he raises his hands to cup your face, pulling out one of his best moves in the effort to persuade you.

“We’re still not getting this tree,” you murmur sweetly as the kiss finally breaks.

“But why??” The whine is starkly at odds with his hulking physique and it’s all you can do to hold in your giggle.

“Bucky, my love, my heart,” his bright eyes soften at the way you so tenderly address him even in the middle of a very important Christmas tree debate, “No matter how much we love it, love him – Harold - he’s not gonna grow! I mean, sure, decorations will make him look fuller, but he’s seriously only four and a half feet tall. And that’s being generous! That’s not a Christmas tree, Buck, that’s a tabletop decoration. I’m sorry, but this tree is way too small.”

“Size doesn’t matter!” The cocky voice comes from your left, and both Bucky and you turn at the intrusion.

“Oh, size matters,” you retort. Who the hell is this guy, and why is he trying to weigh in on your very important tree discussion?

“No, it doesn’t,” he immediately contradicts you as he takes a step closer, obviously checking you out as he does. “My name’s Will, by the way,” he says proudly as he motions to his nametag, and it’s only then that you realize that he works at the tree farm.

“It’s nice to meet you, Will,” Bucky begins politely, “but I think my girlfriend and I -”

“So, a lovely lady such as yourself obviously deserves and appreciates a nice tree. In fact, I’d be more than happy to bring you back to my apartment - it’s just above the gift shop - and show you what a nicely decorated tree can really look like, even if it has a modest stature.”

Your mouth drops open a bit at how he so rudely cut Bucky off and how obviously he’s hitting on you - does this guy not see that Bucky could snap him like a twig? Bucky looks over to you with an amused smirk and raised eyebrows, silently asking if you want him to intervene. You smile and almost imperceptibly shake your head. You’ve got this.

“No, Will, that won’t be necessary. In fact, we -”

“This tree right here,” interrupting you this time, Will points to another tree to your right, “is the pinnacle of pine tree perfection.”

You give a perfunctory glance, seeing immediately that it’s too short for what you want. “Yes, well, it’s a very nice tree, but I’m looking for something at least 10 feet tall, and from the looks of it, you don’t have what I want.”

“You don’t really want a 10-foot tree,” he scoffs. “Tall trees are so overrated.”

What the…what is this guy’s deal? Why does he care about your preferred tree height? You finally take a good look at the guy and it hits you. Ah, yes. Male fragility at its finest.

“Size really doesn’t matter. It’s all in how you decorate the tree,” he declares proudly, sounding as though he just gave you the secret to the meaning of life.

Oh. So this is how you wanna play? Alright then, buddy, game on. “Yeah, no. That’s a lie that people tell trees to make them feel better about themselves.”

“I beg your pardon?” Will sounds positively offended. “Did you ever consider that maybe it’s not the size of the tree that’s the issue, but you? Maybe you just have no idea how to properly decorate a tree.”

You narrow your eyes before continuing, “Okay buddy, don’t pin the responsibility for this on me - I have to at least have something to work with. While I do agree that decorating is definitely important, skill can only do so much. Whether you like it or not, size does matter. Too big, and it bumps into stuff it shouldn’t, gets in the way, and is just overall uncomfortable to have in the room. Too small and you might not even notice it if you’re not paying close attention. That in particular is a real bummer.”

Bucky, who has been carefully following the conversation as he always does when someone he doesn’t trust is anywhere within your vicinity, bites his lip and ducks his head in an entirely unsuccessful attempt to hide his silent laughter.

Will sniffs in indignation. “Well, maybe your room is just too big.”

DID HE JUST.

“Are you seriously blaming my living room for your tree’s inadequacy??” Your voice gets louder with each word, but at this point that you don’t care. “No matter what the size of the room is, the ceiling in a standard building is still at least 7 feet up. Even a studio apartment would want a bigger tree than this. A goddamn Smurf would want a bigger tree!”

Will blinks at you, seemingly surprised that you’re still not buying into his load of crap, while Bucky has officially given up on being polite and is now holding his stomach as he laughs out loud.

His mirth is cut off abruptly when Will steps forward and comes uncomfortably close, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his hand on your hip. You stiffen immediately from the unexpected and unwelcome contact.

“You know what?” Will begins, clearly not ready to let your disagreement on tree size interfere with his attempt to pick you up, “Seeing is believing. Come on, Baby, let me just show you my tree, it –“

“Okay pal, you just crossed the line.” Bucky takes Will’s wrist into his left hand, swinging it forcibly up and over your shoulders so you’re free to step back. “You see, I don’t really mind you attempting to flirt with my girl - she’s gorgeous, and I don’t blame you for trying, especially since I know it’s a lost cause. God knows I don’t understand it, but she chose me, so a little pipsqueak like you is no threat.”

Bucky still hasn’t let go of the other man’s wrist, and Will whimpers as the gloved, unyeilding metal squeezes a little tighter.

“What I DO mind is that you touched her without her permission. You see,” Bucky twists his arm and Will goes to his knees, “I have this crazy and, I don’t know, apparently progressive sense of human decency that tells me that women should be respected. At all times. By all men. Which means that you don’t touch a lady unless she says she’s okay with it.” Bucky pushes back toward Will, and Will bends backward to try to relieve the pressure. “Understand?”

Will nods violently. “Yes! Yes Mr… uh, Mr…Sir!! Yes, sir!”

Bucky gives a chilling smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Good. I’ll be watching you, Will. I know where you live. And if I EVER see or hear about you touching someone without their permission, I will end you.”

Bucky releases Will’s wrist, and just like that he drops the scary facade, smiling a genuine smile that has Will thoroughly confused. “Now, my girl and I are looking for a tree that’s roughly 10 feet tall. Do you have anything like that?”

“Um, uh, yeah. Yes! We have taller trees on the other side of the farm.”

Will looks ready to run away, but Bucky doesn’t let him. “Lead the way, then. Show us where you have taller trees.”

Will looks kind of like a goldfish the way his eyes grow huge and his mouth gapes. “I could just tell you where…” he begins, but his voice trails off when Bucky begins to glare. His shoulders drop in defeat, “Right this way, sir.”

Bucky takes your hand, and you both follow Will. “Are you really going to torture him by making him help us after all that?” you ask quietly, not fully able to hide your grin at Bucky’s antics.

Bucky smirks before pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re damn right I am.”

God, how you love this man. You laugh softly as you squeeze his hand, finally ready to concede. “Hey, if you really want to, we can get Harold.”

Bucky stops and stares at you. “But he’s not what you want.”

“Well, he’s shorter than I’d like, but it’s going to be your tree too, Buck.” You shrug before continuing, “If Harold will make you happy, then we’ll get Harold. We can always get a tall tree next year.”

He smiles at you like you’re the only thing he sees, and you can’t help your own giddy smile in return. “Hey,” he murmurs, “how about a compromise? We can get two trees and put Harold in the entryway.”

The smile on your face can’t possibly get any bigger, but it tries. “That sounds perfect.”

Bucky throws his arm around your shoulders to pull you close as you walk to catch up with Will. It’s not that long of a walk, and soon you’re among trees that tower over you.

“Hey, Will?”

Will immediately stops and turns at the sound of Bucky’s voice. “Y-yes, sir?”

“Do you remember which tree we were looking at before you so rudely interrupted us?”

Will stares wide-eyed into the distance for a moment, clearly on the verge of complete panic as he tries to remember. “Umm…I…Yes!” A look of relief floods his face as he begins to nod with more enthusiasm than strictly necessary. “Yes, I know exactly which tree that was!”

“Good. My girl and I are gonna look around these trees to see if we can find one that suits our needs, but we’d also like to take that tree. Do you think you can cut it and have it waiting for us when we’re ready to leave?”

“Yes, sir!” Will salutes Bucky, he actually salutes him, before scurrying off to do as Bucky asked.

The silence only lasts a moment. It starts off with a snort from Bucky, then a snicker escapes from you. You and Bucky look at each other and burst into laughter, startling a pair of chickadees that were resting in a nearby tree.

“Oh my god, did you see that? Bucky, I think he peed a little,” you finally manage to gasp through a fit of giggles.

“He had it comin’” Bucky chuckles before exploding into another belly laugh. It takes several minutes for the two of you to regain your composure, but eventually you manage, wiping tears from your eyes. Time to get back to business.

“Hey Babe, what about this one?” Bucky points to an absolutely lovely Fraser fir. It’s the right height, has the perfect shape, and its branches are full and strong.

“Oh, hey, yeah…I like this one,” you breathe as you stare at the gorgeous tree. “It’s beautiful, tall, and thick.” You smirk before adding, “Just like you, Buck.”

Bucky turns to you with an unreadable expression on his face. “…I…I don’t know whether to be flattered or concerned that you just compared me to a tree…”

The sound of approaching footsteps captures your attention.

“Please excuse me, sir, I just wanted to let you know that your tree is ready.” Will approaches hesitantly.

“Great, we’ll take this one, too,” Bucky points to the tree you both want, “and we’ll meet you up front.”

“Yes sir!” Will immediately gets to work as you and Bucky walk back towards the gift shop and family activities.

Twenty minutes, a s’more, and a cup of hot cocoa later, Bucky pulls you close as a worker finishes strapping the trees to the top of your vehicle. “Are you ready to go home and decorate?”

“Been looking forward to it since we got here,” you answer honestly.

His voice is rough when he murmurs, “Me, too.”

“So let’s go.”

Round 1 Tags: @rogersxbarnesx @hellomissmabel @howdoesoneadult @ms-potts-to-you @nykitass @danimuhle @iwillbeinmynest @4theluvofall @shifutheshihtzu @iamtal @passiononfire @jade-cheshire3303 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @lostinspace33 @gingerrootknits @callmebucky-doll @learisa @sammedrano @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @vaisabu @widowvinter @amrita31199 @bellenuit45 @agentraven007 @sarahjeaniejean @unpredictable-firecracker @omalleysgirl22 @crazyliraz @shamvictoria11 @kaaatniss @lillian-paige-weigle @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @sexyseabass1231

#samsrockinwritingchallenge #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #my work #size lies and rolled eyes: the great christmas tree debacle #sam's rockin' around the christmas tree writing challenge 2017

367 notes · View notes

vankoya · 6 years

Text

Boy of Earth.

➢ A Christmas drabble series based on this list!

Genre | Cowboy Bebop AU.

Pairing | Jeon Jeongguk / Feminine Reader.

Conspectus | Those who were born on Earth are known to take tradition seriously. Despite the lengths he must go to in order to upkeep it, Jeon Jeongguk, boy of Earth, is no exception.

Earth is not a home to you. No, Ganymede, Jupiter’s largest moon, was where you were born. The closest connection that you have to the planet is that your species, the humankind, has its origins on its soils. Besides that, it is merely a bright speck amongst the billions of others; a cerulean blot on the black canvas that is the endless stretches of space outside the Helios’ windows.

But Earth is home to Jeon Jeongguk. So, when you awake to the distant, thunderous booming of an early morning rock shower—fragments of the Earth’s moon where the Astral Gate explosion had shattered the worst of it more than five decades ago—you are not completely surprised to find the Helios parked on the remains of an Earth continent. Asia, you guess. It is always the place that he frequents. His place of birth.

“Why are we here?” you tiredly question Namjoon as you stride into the zipcraft garage, wearing nothing more than a flimsy nightgown and taking note that Jeongguk’s Aphelion is nowhere to be seen. There, stepping onto the landing, an icy chill wracks a violent shiver through your limbs; gusting through the wide-open garage entrance. The sudden gooseflesh rising the fine hairs on your body wakes you right up, and when you look out the entrance, it is to discover– “It’s snowing?”

“Nice observation skills, slick,” Namjoon mutters, dressed much more appropriately in a heavy sheepskin jacket, woolly hat, and snow boots. He turns his head side-on so he can make eye-contact with you, a frown marring his rosy features. “And I have no idea. Jeongguk reconfigured the ship’s coordinations without my explicit permission again in the middle of the night.”

“You should do something about that,” you suggest through your chattering teeth, though you know that Namjoon would never. The pair have an unexplainable bond, despite their near-constant disagreement on, well, just about everything. “Where’s Taehyung?”

“Putting tinsel on fucking everything; bringing a shitload of snow into the ship and letting it melt all over the floors. I don’t know what it is about Earth-people and Christmas, but it’s all too merry,” Namjoon laments, closing his eyes as though such an action will provide him with a brief second of peace. “Again and again, I’m in a constant state of questioning myself as to why I invited all of you onboard in the first place. You’re a bunch of assholes who do nothing but milk my energy, my sanity, and my ship until nothing but an empty carcass remains.”

“Because you’d be lonely without us,” you remind him with a cheeky grin and a gentle pat on his padded arm, turning on your bare heel to exit where you first entered. “And we’d be lonely without you too, Joon.”

Namjoon does not answer. But you do not need him to in order to know that, as you quickly stride away to change into something much more appropriate for the sudden weather shift, he is smiling.

Jeongguk returns right before the Earth’s sundown. Despite that the day has only just reached its end, you long-returned to the comfort and warmth of your cosy bed and spent the afternoon slipping in and out of consciousness. The Earth’s time is something that your body clock is not used to, having spent nearly a week in space prior to this expedition, and you were not going to let this one day of straying from space-time to screw your sleep pattern over. Not when you finally got the damn thing in check.

First, there are hands. Toasty heat in the shape of palms glide underneath your sweater; fingers curl gently around your waist. Then comes a dip in the mattress. A familiar weight that your lethargic body gravitates towards, drawn to the shape of another as it stretches out in soft muscle and caramel skin beside you. Here, you open your eyes. Lashes untangling from their sleepy embrace, hazy eyes clearing to focus on a face that is rough around the edges with scars, and nonetheless tickles at a string of fondness within you.

“Hey, baby,” Jeongguk murmurs, slipping a hand back out of your sweater to push strands of hair away from your face. With a tired sound of acknowledgement, you nuzzle into his palm as it comes to caress your cheek.

“Earth-boy who smells like gingerbread, hello,” you slur back, pressing as close as you can manage in order to fully immerse yourself in the newfound scent. Gingerbread smells nice on Jeongguk. Much better than whiskey and cigarettes and lost money. Like this, he smells young. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“A kiss,” Jeongguk grins. But it falters as you, without argument, begin to close the small distance between your mouths. “Oh, wait.”

Immediately, you freeze, and an expression of nonchalance overcomes you. “Don’t you dare tell me to brush my teeth first, because I swear to God–”

“What– No! I don’t care about that,” he chuckles, and it runs deep like a river. Taking you under; holding you in the pleasant tepidness of its belly. You curiously raise an eyebrow at him, and Jeongguk mischievously waggles his own back at you. “Just– Look up, first.”

Frowning slightly in confusion, you roll onto your back so you can do exactly that. At first, in the dim lighting of your room, you hardly notice what he is wanting you to see beyond your overhanging shelves. But with a squint of effort, and Jeongguk helpfully pointing right at it, the small bunch of emerald leaves comes into perception; complete with tiny, ripe and red berries in a cluster at the centre. Its short stem is tied by a thin string to the wire binder of a notebook on the shelf, allowing it to dangle above, and between, the two of you.

The reason behind why Jeongguk brought you all to Earth suddenly becomes very, very clear.

“Is that... mistletoe?” you whisper, slightly in awe, for this is the first time you have witnessed it in the flesh. You have only ever seen plastic replicas on Mars. Nothing as authentic—as Earth—as this. “We came all the way here so you could find mistletoe, and kiss me under it?”

“More or less,” he hums, oddly cute and giddy, shifting closer. “Like you and Namjoon always say, we Earth-people stick to our traditions. Christmas is the most important. It’s the happiest, and I want to share that with you.”

“I could get used to such a tradition if it means you’re like this,” you mumble, and Jeongguk’s hand immediately squeezes your waist. You pull your eyes away from the mistletoe, locking onto his, which are swallowed by a sea of repentance.

Yet, even amongst the raging ocean, a glimmer of hope sparkles on the horizon.

“This won’t be something that only comes with the tradition, it’ll be permanent,” Jeongguk says, determination like an unmoving rock in his tone. “I’m going to try my very best, at least. For you. For myself. I’m banning myself from visiting Tharsis unless it’s a business requirement.”

At that, a smile colours the corners of your lips with genuine joy. A wilting bud, suddenly, blooms between your ribs. “That might be the best Christmas gift I could ask for.”

“Maybe,” Jeongguk grins, nearing so close that your blushing noses brush. “Or, it could be this.”

The space between your mouths swiftly closes, yet the movement is unbelievably tender. Jeongguk, beneath the mistletoe, kisses you absolutely silly until your lips are swollen and numb. Until he no longer has any breath in his lungs. Your tongues meet at the centre; your bodies writhe into position like a lock and key; your hearts beat in the softest, merry harmony.

Perhaps, the Earth-people and their unusual traditions are onto something. A something that brings nothing but the best out of everyone. Even those who reside at the bottom of whiskey bottles; in the infinitesimal spaces between the cards on a blackjack table; in the blue smoke that coils from a cigarette’s ember. A something that grabs them by the wrists and pulls, and pulls, and pulls, until they are finally free.

Note | I LOVE CHRISTMAS. I AM A SLUT FOR CHRISTMAS PROMPTS. NOBODY CAN STOP ME. NOBODY!!! (I will probably not get all the Advent Calendar days done. But we can dream, I suppose.)

#jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts x reader #kpoptrashtag #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #vankoya #I'll be using both new AUs #and AUs from stories I've already written!!!#watch me do three of these and then never return to it again dfsfhgjshkgds #/ alcoholism #/ gambling #litp

267 notes · View notes

vanherndon · 4 years

Text

Your Investment in Christ: How Invested Are You?

This is the sermon that I wrote and preached on October 4, 2020.

Your Investment in Christ: How Invested Are You?

Introduction:

Welcome to the Dover church of Christ. It is good to see you all.

If you turn on the tv or look on social media then you will find an immense buffet of issues to provoke the emotions, causes to pick up the banner of and march in support of, either metaphorically or in actuality.

We are constantly bombarded with worldly topics that compete for our attention and for our effort.

So today, I would like to raise the question, when it comes to your investment in Christ, how invested are you?

For those of you familiar with my chosen vocation outside the church, rest assured that this sermon is not alluding to that vocation nor is it an advertisement.

The idea of investment lends itself well to our topic today because there are certain similarities that an investment metaphor can easily explain or guide our understanding. Indeed, the Bible itself uses the idea of investment in exploring the practice of our faith.

There are two applications that I am attempting to make with our discussion today. If you have yet to become a Christian, then it is my goal concerning you to provide you with scriptural ideas to consider in your decision to become a Christian. Make no mistake, it is not my intent to arm you with an excuse so as you can continue in your path of being a sinner alien to the body of Christ, for the Bible says in Acts 17:30 "Truly, these times of ignorance God overlooked, but now commands all men everywhere to repent,...” My goal for you today is to make sure that when you do come to the decision to obey the Gospel of Christ that you have at the very least began a proper examination of the cost that is attributed to being a disciple of Christ, and in so doing, when hard times come, your chances of stumbling or faltering in the faith are as small as possible because we have helped you set the proper expectations.

If you are here today and you are a member of the Body of Christ, then I hope that our discussion will provoke you to examine yourself and determine how you measure up to the Word of God. Even the finest sailors of times of old had to turn to the sky and measure their position in relation to the stars and if found off course, make the appropriate adjustments. The wind and the current of the sea affected the direction of their journey requiring frequent examination of their course. The same holds true for us in our faith as Christians. The winds and currents of the world are constantly working against us and we need frequent examination and possibly course correction. I have heard it said and have repeated it before in front of you that “Sin is a slippery slope.” Therefore, we should always be diligent in where we place our next step.

Count the cost:

The first example of examining our investment in Christ that we shall look at is found in Luke 14:25-34 where we read...

Now great multitudes went with Him. And He turned and said to them, "If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple. "And whoever does not bear his cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple. "For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has [enough] to finish [it]-- "lest, after he has laid the foundation, and is not able to finish, all who see [it] begin to mock him, "saying, 'This man began to build and was not able to finish.' "Or what king, going to make war against another king, does not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? "Or else, while the other is still a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks conditions of peace. "So likewise, whoever of you does not forsake all that he has cannot be My disciple. "Salt [is] good; but if the salt has lost its flavor, how shall it be seasoned?

We find here that Jesus is traveling towards Jerusalem and he is being followed by a large group of people. This group of people had developed the notion that Jesus was here on Earth to establish an earthly kingdom, an idea still promoted by some to this day. They expected to benefit from this earthly kingdom with no change on their part, specifically no inward change of life. Jesus then offers correction to their thinking. He tells them to consider the cost of being His disciple and gives examples of what they can expect.

Let us first look at where our Lord asks the question, “For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost” and also when he asks, “Or what king, going to make war against another king, does not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand?”

Much like with investments of a financial nature, the investment in Christ requires you to sit and examine what must you give up in order to have more in the future. There is what is called an opportunity cost. What must I sacrifice in order to have this other? We will explore the opportunity costs that a Christian can expect in our next point in greater detail in our next point. For our purposes considering this point, there are things that we must give up today in our service to the Lord so that we can prosper in the future, naturally, I speak of Heaven. Farming is, in a sense, an investment. Time, money, and effort are put into growing a crop. It is a labor of love, culminating in the harvest.

It is the same for Christians in that the Word is planted within us. We grow and we help others grow. We tend our own soil as well as cultivate the word in others.

Let us now look at some of the Costs of being a disciple of Christ.

Deny yourself

Luke 14:27 in our text, that we have looked at, says, “And whoever does not bear his cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple.” Further in Matthew 16:24-26 we read...

[Mat 16:24-26 NKJV] Then Jesus said to His disciples, "If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. "For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. "For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?

Finally, a third verse that I want to examine when we discuss what the cost of being a follower of Christ is Matthew 6:33 where we read "But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.”

To be a true follower of Christ, we must deny ourselves as Matthew 16:24 instructs and we must take up and bear our cross as Matthew 16:24 and Luke 14:27 both say. We must also put God and his righteousness first in our lives as we are taught in Matthew 6:33.

In our original scripture in Luke 14:26, we read where the Lord says that to be a disciple of Christ, we must “hate” his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple.

What is being taught here? What does it mean to hate? The Bible uses the word hate often to mean that we must love something less. So the lesson being taught here is that we are to place the Lord above our earthly father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even our own lives. This is in agreement with Matthew 6:33 where we are to seek FIRST the kingdom of God and his righteousness.

There are those that do not believe in the Bible. There are those that have been pulled astray from the Word or prevented from a true and accurate understanding of God’s Word. These people may even be people that we care for dearly and are close to. My favorite and maybe too often quoted verse says you shall love your neighbor as yourself, but not before it first tells us to love God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength.

We are to put God first. We are to love those around us, but God always takes precedent. Situations may arise where those close to us question what God has said, but we must never falter or fail to say what God says. We must rightly divide the word as the Bible instructs and we must be ready to give a defense. Understand, we are called to obey the Gospel of Christ and to teach others the same. We are then called to win souls. We are not called to win arguments. Galatians 5:22-24 reads, “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Against such there is no law. And those [who are] Christ's have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.”

To summarize that point, Love those around us, but by all means, love God more, give him the higher position which he is entitled to, and when disagreements arise, diligent practice the qualities that God’s Word calls the Fruits of The Spirit is needed.

To be a child of God will cost time and effort to learn the Truth

Proverbs 23:23 tells us to Buy the truth, and do not sell [it], [Also] wisdom and instruction and understanding.

Romans 1:16 reads “For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation for everyone who believes, for the Jew first and also for the Greek.”

James 1:21 says ”Therefore lay aside all filthiness and overflow of wickedness, and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls.

In Acts 17:11-12 we find “These were more fair-minded than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness, and searched the Scriptures daily [to find out] whether these things were so. Therefore many of them believed, and also not a few of the Greeks, prominent women as well as men.”

Finally, in John 8:32 we are given the verse that inspired our Set Free program "And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."

All of these passages refer to the need to study and know the word of God.

When I am concerned about my health, I consult a doctor or other medical professional. I do not want a doctor that didn't take his or her study seriously. There is an old joke that asks “What do you call a person that graduated last in the medical school class?” The answer is “doctor.” There was a time that I chuckled at that joke but as I grow older and find myself needing the service of a Doctor more frequently, I find less and less humor in that particular joke.

When you have a legal matter, you consult a lawyer. You want a lawyer that knows the law. A lawyer that does not know the law is good for a laugh on occasion as long as he or she is not your lawyer. A lawyer who is lacking in study is certainly a bane of a judge's existence.

If we can look at these two earthly examples of professionals in whom we place our trust and desire that they are of the utmost competence. Why then do we neglect to grow ourselves as the only professional that is responsible for understanding God’s will and how to live in a manner according to that will. The only person responsible for you realizing an eternal home in Heaven with our Father is you. You expect a well-trained doctor or lawyer, but how many do not place the same expectations on themselves concerning their salvation? It costs time and effort to learn God’s word.

To be a Christian, one must repent. In Luke 13:3 we find, "I tell you, no; but unless you repent you will all likewise perish.” What does it mean to repent?

Let us again consider Matthew 16:24-26

We must give up the pleasure of sin. Sin is man’s greatest problem in that they separate us from God. The problem is further compounded in that sin can be attractive, fun, enjoyable, at least in the short-term. As we have read, we must give up our carnal desires, we must focus on that which is spiritual. We must, as the text says, take up our cross and follow Christ. What does it mean to take up our cross? The cross was the horrific execution tool in crucifixion. To take up your cross means that you must be willing to suffer and even die for the cause of Christ. We have tremendous liberties that we enjoy here in this great country. We are able to enjoy the freedom to worship openly, which is not the case for all Christians.

I want to stop here and relate a video that I saw the other day. It was of a preacher on stage talking about his experiences as a missionary in China. I am sure that you are at least somewhat familiar with how communist states like China have exhibited various levels of hostility towards the Christian faith.

The speaker begins explaining that he was in China to teach twenty-two Christian leaders from the Hunan Province. These twenty-two people rode a bus for thirteen hours to get to the hotel or apartment where classes were being held. Upon arrival, they had to enter the building and take the elevator two by two so as not to draw suspicion or interest as a large group.

When they arrive at the room, there is not enough seating for twenty-two people so most sit on the floor. Since such opportunities are limited, instruction and teaching start at eight AM and continues to five PM to make the most of the time they have and they did this for three days on this occasion.

The instructor that is relaying this story asks his students, “What happens if we are caught?” They reply that he would be deported within twenty-four hours and they would go to prison for three years. He then asked them, “how many of you here had been to prison?” Out of the twenty-two present, eighteen raised their hands.

As they began their study, the preacher hands out the Bibles that he had which was not enough for everyone and so seven people went without. He instructed them to turn to 2 Peter chapter 1 and as he watched most turn the scripture, he saw one woman hand her Bible to another student. As they continued in their study, he understood why the woman handed her Bible off because she quoted the entire chapter from memory. The preacher was very surprised and delighted and he asked her where she had memorized the Bible, she told him it was in prison and she jokingly said that you had a lot of free time in prison to do so. He then asked, “But don’t they confiscate the Bible?” She confirmed that they did. So he then asked how is it that you have something from which to study?” She told him that visitors would smuggle in scraps of paper with scripture written on it and that they would study from that. “Wouldn’t the paper be confiscated if found?” he then asked.

Absolutely, which is why you memorize it as quickly as you can, because they may be able to take the word from your hand, but they cannot take it from your heart.

At the conclusion of the three days as the preacher was finishing class, he asked them how best can I remember you in my prayers after I return home. They answered by explaining that they would appreciate it if he would pray they would be just like the Americans since they can meet freely.

He told him that he could not do that. Of course, this caused much surprise. He explained to them that they traveled on a less than ideal bus thirteen hours to come to study the word of God, whereas most Americans wouldn’t travel greater than an hour. He continued by saying that they sat through class for eight hours a day for three days straight while most Americans get antsy after forty minutes. The time they spent there was while sitting on a hard floor, while most Americans have padded pews. They sat on the floor for eight hours while having no air conditioning. Most Americans wouldn't have come back for a second or third day.

He concluded by explaining that the average American family has between two and three Bibles and they have dust on them while the Chinese were so hungry for the word of God that they studied pieces of paper and memorized the word. He explained to them that while he certainly had the opportunity to study and worship freely, that in every other manner, he would pray that Americans become like them. Take a moment to consider the cost these people face and the energy and enthusiasm with which they face it.

Consider also that prison is one of the more docile costs a Christian may face compared to other atrocities committed against Christians in other lands. As you are doing so, be thankful that the costs you face to be or become a Christian are not so drastic.

When we repent, we must also give up our ways for God’s ways

[Isa 55:7-9 NKJV] 7 Let the wicked forsake his way, And the unrighteous man his thoughts; Let him return to the LORD, And He will have mercy on him; And to our God, For He will abundantly pardon. 8 "For My thoughts [are] not your thoughts, Nor [are] your ways My ways," says the LORD. 9 "For [as] the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways, And My thoughts than your thoughts.

Are we more worried about our feelings than our faith?

Are we more concerned with our rights than our righteousness?

If someone was to take a look at your social media posts, would they determine your political affiliation before they ascertain that you are a Christian? Another cost in becoming a Christian is as we have previously discussed, YOU MUST PUT GOD FIRST.

That means that sometimes it will cost you in not winning an argument, it may mean that your feelings get hurt, it can mean that you feel your rights are infringed. GOD COMES FIRST.

If you're worried about your feelings, think about the feelings Christ experienced in the Garden of Gethsemane. The stress he felt to the point of sweating drops of blood. Think about his feelings when he found his disciples sleeping when he had asked them to watch with him. God created man in his own image and every man has a soul that God hopes to see make it to Heaven and you should to. That takes priority over your feelings.

If you are worried about winning arguments, then you are flailing at your duty to win souls, because every person that you can offer you a disagreement, again has a soul that you should want to see spend eternity with God in Heaven.

If you are worried about your rights, think about our Lord’s rights as they falsely accused him the night before he died, offered up false witnesses, and illegally tried him on six different occasions during the night. His rights were forfeit so that ultimately you might know a home with him in Heaven.

We must count the cost, we must deny ourselves and we must do it God’s way.

So in considering the similarities of investments to the practice of our faith, again, we must count the cost, deny ourselves today for tomorrow, and finally, we must stick to the plan.

Biblically speaking, we must remain faithful unto the point of death. We read in Revelation 2:10 "...Be faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life.

We must finish what we started. We first gather the information on what it is going to take and then we continue until completion, which for the Christian is either the day your soul leaves your body in the event of physical death or the day the Lord returns for those still living as such time. Counting the cost sets the proper expectations for denying yourself and arms you with the ability to remain faithful. In our text from Luke 14, speaks of the folly of the unfinished tower in the form of wasted time, money, and effort. Our Lord speaks of the defeat of the King that goes to war without counting the cost.

Understand, it is best for every person to obey the Gospel because there is no other to cure the disease of sin than by accessing the redeeming blood of Christ. Counting the cost is not an excuse to not obey, but a way to help you remain faithful until death. Not counting the cost will make you more likely to become discouraged and fall away. If you fall away, you will be lost until you return home and the longer you are gone the harder the journey to return home, not because of anything God has done, but by the hardening of your heart and the temptations of the world. Not only will you be lost, but you are opening the door of opportunity for the world to speak evil of the faith. Not only have you harmed yourself, but you have damaged the influence of the church to save other souls. We read in 2 Peter 2:11-12 “Beloved, I beg [you] as sojourners and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts which war against the soul, having your conduct honorable among the Gentiles, that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may, by [your] good works which they observe, glorify God in the day of visitation.”

Count the cost, Deny yourself, and be faithful unto death. How invested are you? Have you counted the cost, Have you lost sight of the cost? Has something come along that has distracted from following the plan?

There is one cost that I have saved until the end of today. To be a disciple of Christ, you must do whatever is necessary to be buried with Christ in the waters of baptism. When Christ went to John the Baptist to be baptized, he left Galilee and traveled to the Jordan River, a distance of some sixty miles. The Ethiopian Eunuch immediately stopped his journey home to be baptized in Acts chapter 8. We are buried with Christ in baptism and we arise a new creature in Christ having put off the old man of sin. If you have counted the cost but have yet to invest yourself further, I ask you today to take the next step.

If you have obeyed the Gospel of Christ culminating in your baptism, but you have become drawn from the plan as I stated above, Won’t you come home?

Whatever your need, we stand ready to assist as together we stand and sing.

0 notes