#luka writes angst

[afraidparade]

"A Kinder Reality"

Word count: 3,088 Genre: G/T, Hurt/comfort, Angst Content warnings: Detailed depictions of panic attacks/intrusive thoughts, mentions & allusions to gore, death, and suicide, fearplay, possessive behavior

(PLEASE read the CWs as this one is a bit darker than some of my other stuff! sorry if it gets a bit heavy lolol. i tried to base this off of my own personal experiences, as i often have memory problems as a result of vivid dreams and intrusive thoughts that give me a lot of anxiety. there's also not a ton of hurt/comfort where the giant is the one hurting so i hope this fills that emptiness 👍)

__________________________

Luka’s eyes snapped open, the sudden light he had yet to adjust to making it impossible to differentiate up from down. His fingertips clawed into the sheets around him, as if grasping desperately for purchase on an incomplete thought he held in his hands only a moment prior. What was this? Where had he been until now? It was difficult to recall the details, but the ache of breathlessness in his chest and the icy sweat that saturated his nightclothes was evidence that the experience had been far from pleasant.

He remembered feeling alone, yet surrounded. Helpless, but he wasn’t quite certain of what it was that threatened him. There was a room with chairs and people and…something else. Something that he was desperately terrified of. And it wasn’t that those faceless figures around him refused to respond to his cries and offer him aid, because he didn’t cry at all. He didn’t make a sound. It was a dreadful sensation, sitting in that room and feigning calm, surrounded by those human-shaped husks. There was an overbearing presence behind him: the terrifying thing. Some sort of shadowy monster that sulked in a corner of the ceiling yet simultaneously managed to breathe down his neck. Luka could just feel its predatory anticipation, waiting for him to turn around, or speak, or blink, or any action it deemed unacceptable. He was sure it was there, yet no one else paid it any mind. Could they see it? Could they feel it? Did they even care that it was there? Did they even care that he was there? If the thing lunged down and ripped him apart right in front of their hollow eyes, would anyone even flinch? Perhaps they would feel grateful to the monster for ridding them of such a burden. Perhaps they would all be happier if he weren’t—

Luka pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and swallowed. Dry. Water, he should drink water. Shapes began to form in the fuzzy white void of his vision, and the man soon recognized the wall of his bedroom. Which meant all those vague and terrible memories had just been made-up. A dream. A rasp of air blew through his chapped lips, as if he was attempting to laugh out of spite. What a cruel joke. He already got a pitiful amount of sleep as it was, and now he couldn’t even be afforded the luxury of feeling rested when he woke up? Well, such was life, he supposed. At least now he wasn’t alone.

At least now…he wasn’t…

Luka froze, and his head throbbed. The space on the mattress beside him was unoccupied. He managed to twist his neck to survey the other side of the room, enduring another sharp surge of pain in his skull. Empty. His lips parted, but he stayed silent.

Wasn’t there supposed to be someone else there?

A third, more definitive pulse in his head caused Luka’s eyes to wrench shut. His hands shot upwards to nurse the pain away, but when that didn’t work, his fingers became more frantic, each scratching at his hairline as if they had a mind of their own. There was some sort of vile growth blocking his airway. He didn’t know where it came from. It felt like the same sort of inky malevolence that the carnivorous presence from before was composed of.

Was this…real? Had he actually woken up? 

He coughed, wheezing around the lump in his throat, panic setting in when he realized he couldn’t breathe. His diaphragm spasmed, and nausea followed soon after. His mouth was open, but if Luka was crying or screaming, he couldn’t tell. His sense of hearing had been reduced to a flat, monotone buzz. 

How could he be certain that this wasn’t the dream? That every memory of having someone beside him, someone that actually cared about him, weren’t just artificial fragments of a bright, fuzzy dreamscape his brain made to protect itself? How was he supposed to know which memories to trust?

A dark ring began to close in around the corners of his vision, blotting out his surroundings like the final scene of an old film. Maybe it was from the lack of oxygen. Maybe it was just a trauma response. But Luka couldn’t bear this feeling, not being able to tell whether he was tumbling or stationary, awake or asleep, alive or dead. If he was alone again. 

Again. 

Again, again, again, it always happened, he always ended up like this. As if he was always destined to be an afterthought to everyone around him. As if it really wouldn’t matter if a monster swallowed him whole. And bitterly, with the last scrap of his consciousness that could form coherent thoughts, he wondered which reality was kinder: one where he’d tasted love and fulfillment only to discover it was never his to keep, or one where he’d never experienced such bitter joys, and never knew the severity of losing them.

Maybe he could wake up in the room with the people and the monster. Maybe then, even if it was for a second, someone would spare him a compassionate glance while that shadowy beast tore into his ribcage and—

“…ka?”

There was something warm on Luka’s cheek. Tears? No. Though it was only now that he noticed their presence, those felt chilly and wet. It was a small pressure, but it radiated familiarity. A shaky, sudden inhale — his consciousness felt so faint, he barely registered it as his own — and a question were the first sounds to break through the fuzzy, intangible blockade around his ears.

“What happened?”

It took several deep, uneven breaths and bewildered blinks before Luka could manage to see just past his nose. A humanoid shape finally came into focus, but unlike the figures in the other room, this one had a face. And, upon closer inspection, wasn’t human at all. Deep, glossy pools of black with white pinprick pupils stared wide at him with concern, and from behind a quivering frown, he could make out tiny, pointed teeth. Reddish horns, an absolute rat’s nest of black hair, and an ill-fitting shirt stitched together by his own clumsy hands, all wrapped up in a three-inch package. The details were too intimate to be mistaken for a dream.

It was Faust. His wonderful, impossible, real Faust.

Luka couldn’t muster the coherence to form words. Aside from the fogginess he felt after finally, truly waking up, he was still parched, and his throat felt bruised from his battle for breath. A hand retracted from his face, the palm damp from the tears it had inadvertently smeared around, and slowly reached towards the confused demon. Faust reached out for it without a moment’s hesitation, causing Luka’s fingers to twitch in surprise. He was real. It was miraculous. He was real.

But that looming dread from before still gripped at his chest unyieldingly. What if one day Luka woke up and he really was gone? How would he be able to bear being thrown from one cruel reality to the next without the reprieve of someone else to comfort him? No, not just anyone else, but Faust. There was no one else. It had to be Faust.

What would he do if he lost Faust?

Luka didn’t know what he was doing. His body moved almost robotically, stuttering every now and then as his brain tried to process how to proceed, all while his unblinking gaze lost focus and bore forward into the same nothingness. His fingers curled around Faust’s body rigidly, and while the demon didn’t protest, he began to shift uncomfortably. The human’s hand pulled back towards his body, his grip unconsciously tightening as it moved, only stopping when his companion was held flush against his chest and there was no space left for his hand to retreat to. 

“Luka, this is— it’s kind of hard to breathe.”

Luka could hear him, so why couldn’t he stop? He didn’t want to hurt Faust. He would never do something like that. But he was so small. Even if daily life with a tiny imp had become routine, it didn’t change the fact that he was so very vulnerable. Ultimately powerless in the grand scheme of things. Beautifully unique, terrifyingly unique. There was no one else in the entire world like Faust. The big, dangerous, lonely world. Yes, it was so easy to keep him in place. It hardly took any effort at all. This was simply a reassurance that he had the means to keep Faust safe. To keep him close. To make him stay.

“Y-your heartbeat is crazy fast right now. Seriously, are you okay? I need you to respond to me, Luka!”

Luka’s chin lowered to brush against the hand trapping Faust in place, and without realizing it, his entire body had begun to curl around that point as well. It felt as though Faust was the very core of his entire person. This was beyond normal love, wasn’t it? This was obsession. Sick dependency. It disgusted him so, and yet his body refused to do anything but curl tighter. Like a boa constrictor wrapping around its next meal. Would he end up squeezing Faust until he stopped moving, too? It would be easy, Luka thought. Not that he wanted to. But it chilled him to know that he could.

“Don’t make me do this, Luka. I really don’t want to do this.”

Ah, this was what it felt like when they first met. The knowledge that he held this impossibly small being’s life in the literal palm of his hand, the understanding that he could take advantage of that, and the searing hatred Luka felt for himself when he did. It was horrible, but it was intoxicating, and he didn’t want it back, but a wretched part of him missed it. When exactly did he manage to overcome this feeling, Luka pondered? Somewhere along the way of falling for Faust? Realizing he’d need to change if he ever wanted Faust to reciprocate? Well, what did it truly matter if Faust reciprocated? Faust didn’t have to love him. He just needed to be here. He just needed to stay. Luka needed him to stay.

“…So be it, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

God, he was rotten. And delusional, too, to think he had actually changed. People don’t change. At least not people like Luka. Destined to be alone, again and again and again and again. He hated being alone. He hated himself. He hated this feeling. He hated that goddamn room from that goddamn dream. What was even the point? Why did he bother trying to fix something shattered beyond repair? What was stopping him from—

“Ca-li-for-nia girls, we’re unforgettable! Daisy dukes, bikinis on top!”

…

What?

“Sun-kissed skin so hot, we’ll melt your popsicle — wa-oohhh-ah-oohhh-oh, wa-oohhh-ah-oohhh-oh…”

Faust’s muffled voice faded after the last vocalization, possibly waiting to see if there was a response. Or possibly due to being out of breath. After that, total stillness descended on the scene. Almost as if someone had merely pushed the power button on a remote and turned off all the static in Luka’s brain. It took a moment for him to process what in the hell had just happened, but after rewiring itself, his brain recalled a certain fact he knew he could always rely on:

Faust was a terrible singer.

Once his lungs finally remembered how to inhale, his body relaxed from its tensed and coiled state, releasing the small demon from his desperate grasp. As his vision slowly came into focus again, Luka inspected Faust’s state worriedly, suddenly horrified that he may have actually inflicted harm on his roommate. He was flushed red from a combination of the larger man’s overwhelming body heat and the intense pressure that likely inhibited his breathing, but other than a few gasps and coughs, he seemed surprisingly unbothered. Which was relieving first and foremost, but upsetting in its own right. He deserved to be upset. He deserved to resent Luka. The man swallowed as he attempted to regain his voice. 

“...I hate that song,” he rasped plainly. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah. I know,” Faust replied, still panting as he glanced upward, “I was sorta hoping that the hate and the shock would overpower…whatever it was you were feeling.”

Luka’s mouth hung agape. Had Faust really hinged both the wellbeing of himself and Luka on…an annoying pop song? And that actually worked? He couldn’t tell if the demon was an idiot or a genius. It was so ridiculous on so many layers that he simply couldn’t think about anything else. Those overbearing thoughts from mere moments prior vanished in a puff of smoke, just like that. Eventually he closed his mouth and allowed a small, warm grin to replace the anguish from before. He never smiled like this before meeting Faust. Funny, Luka thought, how very different his inner demons looked from the miniscule demon that stood before him.

 “It did. Thank you.”

“God, you sound like shit,” the imp grumbled. Luka took the not-so-subtle hint and slowly sat himself upright, fumbling for the bottle of water that he kept on his bedside table. “What even happened? I had only just left to find myself something to snack on, but I turned back when I heard you making weird noises. Next thing I know, you’re suffocating me.”

Luka hesitated as he brought the bottle to his lips. An intense feeling of shame weighed down on his body as he recalled his actions, as well as the thoughts that accompanied them. It was probably better that Faust didn’t know every last detail of what brought his panic attack on…specifically, the thoughts concerning him. Sure, they had roots in the anxieties that Luka harbored in the back of his mind, but in that feverish state they had been amplified a hundred fold. They weren’t his true feelings. Or so he hoped, anyways

“I just…had a nightmare,” he answered simply, taking a swig from the container. Faust’s eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced that there was no other trigger for such an extreme episode, but he held his tongue. After all, he was in no place to doubt the impact of nightmares. Luka, not wanting to dwell in the uncomfortable silence any longer, continued, “I’m so sorry for putting you through that. It must’ve been scary. Are you hurt?”

The smaller shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s fine. I’ve been through a lot worse.”

Luka wiped at a trail of water that trickled out of the corner of his mouth before capping the bottle. That was right — they had both trudged through hell just to make it to that very morning together, hadn’t they? Faust’s trophy was a back full of scars. Luka’s was a drawer full of pill bottles. It was difficult to liken his own traumatic experiences to Faust’s – especially when the other’s past was still largely a mystery to him – but there was comfort in knowing they could relate to each other on a basic level. That they…weren’t alone. Maybe all the trouble up until then was worth it just to share each other’s company. Of course, it was possible Faust didn’t feel the same way. But he didn’t need to feel the same way. It was enough that he was there. 

Luka sighed and turned to Faust again. Given his state from a few minutes ago, it was remarkable how calm he felt now. Maybe that, too, was thanks to his companion’s presence.

“Did you ever get your snack?” he asked softly.

“No,” Faust huffed with a sharp thrash of his tail. After a pause, the small imp folded his arms and turned his pouting face away, adding with a grumble, “I can’t exactly get to the kitchen in just a few steps like you can.”

Cute, Luka cooed inwardly. It was a thought that he would verbalize on any other day just to watch the resulting adorable tantrum, but for now he figured he’d put Faust through enough.

 “Well then, would you allow me to make a nice breakfast as an apology for earlier? I think there’s enough pancake mix left for one more serving.”

The other’s scowl dissipated instantly, clearly more interested in food than maintaining appearances. “Hell yes! Apology accepted! Put some whipped cream on top and it’s apology double accepted!”

Luka laughed warmly and, after brushing away the last of the moisture that clung to his cheeks, gently extended a hand for Faust to climb onto willingly. Despite him being the one to prompt the action, though, he faltered when his smaller counterpart did just that. Even though he’d been forgiven, this simple act of trust didn’t feel earned. It was only a moment ago that he’d hurt Faust, after all. What right did he have to hold him now?

Seemingly picking up on Luka’s uncertainty (or just becoming impatient after being promised pancakes), Faust craned his neck to shoot an inquisitive glare upwards. “What?” he demanded.

“Aren’t you… I don’t know, a bit too trusting of me right now?” the brunette asked, unable to meet the other’s eyes. “Are you not even the least bit afraid that it might happen again?”

Faust scoffed. “Don’t be stupid. Of course it’ll happen again, idiot.”

Well, Luka hadn’t been sure as to what sort of answer he expected, but it certainly was not that.

“It might not be today or tomorrow, but sure, yeah, it’ll come back. Stuff like that doesn’t disappear overnight. But what kind of demon would I be if I was afraid of one measly human?” he pointed out, flashing a toothy smirk. “I trust you, Luka. And besides, I’ll always be around to knock some sense into you.”

Had Luka not spent all his tears earlier, he was certain there would be some welling in his eyes right then. He gave an earnest smile, a quiet chuckle, and asked, “So singing cringey pop music is your definition of knocking sense into someone?”

“It’s not cringey. You’re just a hardass.”

How fortunate Luka felt now to have woken up. Because truly, how could there be any reality kinder than this one he shared with Faust?

As they walked, Luka hummed a few notes between the pauses of their aimless chattering, before eventually groaning and cursing under his breath.

“Fuck,” he muttered,  “You got that stupid song stuck in my head.”

“Heh heh! You’re welcome.”

#lufa #oc: luka #oc: faust #g/t #giant/tiny #gt community #writingtag #g/t writing #g/t fiction #fearplay #hurt/comfort #angst #suicide mention #tw depression #tw panic attack #tw intrusive thoughts #mlm g/t #m/m g/t #if i got that song stuck in your head you owe me $5 #also lmk if i'm missing tags plz

[ghostedcas]

riley family hcs:

tw: mentions of post-partum depression and psychosis, mentions of self harm, mentions of death/dying/suicide (no actual death though, everyone is alive!!), allusions to ghost's trauma

- matthew is a big batman enjoyer just like his dad, simon got him matching batman stuff all the time growing up

- matthew is also a big softie, big guy like his dad but is just an absolute softie (biggest animal lover fr)

- lyla's first word was tea because simon asks for tea so much when he's home she picked it up from him

- luka's first word was pineapple and it to this day baffles you and simon

- bug and matthew will never admit it's because they trained him to do it

- 90% of what simon drinks when he is home is tea

- he probably asks for tea at least once an hour

- "baby can you make me some tea?"

- "love, are you making tea? can you make me some too?"

- "do you want to have some tea?"

- "oh, while you're up can you grab me a cuppa?"

- atp just keep the kettle on 24/7 when he's home

- bug kept their middle name, it's joeseph <3

- true to their name, bug used to bring all assortments of bugs home with them as a kid

- literally just pulled a mf earth worm out of his pocket one night at dinner when he was 8

- simon and matthew freaked out

- "ew! why did bring that to the table?!"

- "bug you're gonna make me sick, please get that thing away from our dinner..."

- "matthew! simon! be nice!"

- lyla is a big daddy's girl, luka is a mommy's boy

- idk if i mentioned it before but bug uses they/he pronouns (will use she/her to spite people, only ever to spite people)

- matthew has beat up transphobes at school for bug (and would gladly do it again)

- soap tried so hard to convince simon to name a kid after him

- closest he got was matthew's middle name being john (he'll take the win)

- lyla's middle name is valerie (for the sole reason that mummy likes the song valerie a little too much, it kinda pisses simon off because it's so close to valeria but he lives with it and learns to love it every time he sees his lover dancing around the kitchen to the song)

- luka legally doesn't have a middle name, it's supposed to be spencer

- simon may or may not have forgotten to write it down on the certificate

- he was emotional, okay?

- at least he remembered to put his name there at all??

-he misspelled riley by accident the first time and scribbled it out

- when soap found out he refused to let him live it down and reminds him of it every opportunity he gets

- only for simon to remind him of the time bug shoved a snail down soap's throat when he was a child and soap actually ate it so he wouldn't hurt bug's feelings

- shell and all

- soap shuts up quickly after that

- uncle soap <3

- some sad ones comin your way besties

- simon wasnt exactly a good dad for the first couple years of matthew and bugs lives

- you were both young and he was still very unhealed from his (continuously growing) trauma

- a lot of fights were had

- a lot of simon just leaving in the middle of the night out of nowhere

- it took one really bad fight where you completely broke down in front of him for him to realize that he had to get his shit together

- family therapy appointment was booked the next day for as soon as possible

- truthfully he didn't think it would help, he's always been a big therapy hater

- but to his surprise it helped a lot, of course it still took some time and a lot of hard work but he did eventually grow to become a much better father and partner

- luckily by the time matthew and bug were in their most formative years is when simon had become a bit more stable and a better dad

- of course they still had to go through his deployments and the trauma of not knowing if their dad would come home, but they never ever experienced trauma at the hands of simon

- simon actually suffered PPD and PPP alongside you after you had the kids

- neither of you developed PPP until the twins though

- it was a very big struggle for both of you

- there was a short period of time where you actually had your parents take the kids because neither of you trusted yourselves alone with them

- his lasted much shorter than yours did though

- there was a period of time where you were still suffering both PPD and PPP while simon was deployed and it ended up with you and matthew in the hospital

- you hadn't intended to hurt him, he just happened to get in the way of you hurting yourself and you accidentally hurt him as well

- simon didn't find out until he came home from deployment and saw that you weren't alone at home with the kids but instead had hired a nanny who was trained for situations like this

- he felt awful that he couldn't be there for you when you needed someone so badly

- he could've lost you and he wouldn't have known until he came home

- but he didn't

- anyyywaaaayyyys, back to the happy stuff :3

- bug watches markiplier

- matthew watches buzzfeed unsolved (loves watching it with uncle soap<3)

- sleepovers at uncle soap's when he's off of deployment 🥰

- matthew had a habit of bringing random strays into the house from the ages of 6-10

- or even just random wild animals he somehow befriended

- get home from work and he's just sitting there on the couch with a raccoon in his hands

- you just stand there like ????

- "matthew, please get that thing out of my house..."

- "but why? it's nice mummy."

- "i know you think so honey, but it's really not. it's probably very dirty and wants to be left alone. they live outside for a reason, right bud? if they wanted to be in homes, they would be."

- "fine... five more minutes?"

- "two, no more, no less. and that include your saying goodbye time."

- "fine."

#ghostedcas #casper writes #ghostedcas: ghost #ghostedcas: riley family ocs #ghostedcas: bug riley #ghostedcas: matthew riley #ghostedcas: lyla riley #ghostedcas: luka riley #simon ghost riley x oc #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fluff #simon ghost riley angst #simon ghost riley headcanons

[brettanomycroft]

Part 2 of my first kiss 5+1 fic for @jonmartinweek!

Day 2: Outsider POV

#my writing #jonmartin #jonmartin week 2024 #tma fic #tma fanfiction #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #peter lukas #angst with a happy ending #eventually #just not this time

[cnnmairoll]

heyy, hope you're doing well! take your time with this, but could i request for angst with luka x reader? the premise is that we got into a really bad argument with him and we offhandedly tell him that he deserved to lose his arm. but instead of getting angry at us, luka just gets uncharacteristically dejected and silent, remembering all the struggle he experienced trying to cope with what he lost. 🥲 reader apologizes and they make up in the end after a day of not talking with each other ofc, but yk... angst first </3

- 🥊 anon

p.s.: i love your writing! ^-^ and congrats on getting more followers, pls keep going !! ✨️

Reckless Words

Pairing : Luka x Reader Genre : Angst, Hurt/Slight Comfort (?) a/n : Why would you want to hurt the sweetest boy, reader (◞‸◟；) But nice seeing you again 🥊 anon !! Hope this fills your expectation ! I never write for angst before :')

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦.

The bitterness of regret hung in the air, a stifling reminder of the words that had been flung recklessly between you and Luka. The argument had spiraled far beyond logic, leaving behind an oppressive silence that seemed to weigh down the room.

Luka, usually a beacon of boundless enthusiasm and hope, now stood before you with his shoulders slumped and his once-brilliant blue eyes dulled by an unfamiliar sorrow. His fair complexion seemed almost ashen, as if the burden of the world had settled upon him in an instant.

The words had slipped out in a moment of rage, fueled by frustration and resentment, yet now they hung between you like an insurmountable chasm. "You deserved to lose your arm!" The venom in your voice had been undeniable, a weapon you'd wielded carelessly in the heat of the moment. But as you saw the devastation in Luka's eyes, the magnitude of your mistake struck you with a force you hadn't anticipated.

Luka's robotic arm, a symbol of his sacrifice and courage, gleamed dully in the subdued lighting. It told a story of the day he had rescued that frightened child, the day he had given everything to shield another soul from harm's way. Yet now, that same arm bore the weight of your impulsive words, a scar that ran deeper than the metal and wires.

He had faced danger, confronting a mutated monster that posed a threat to innocent lives, and in the process, he had relinquished a fragment of himself. The memory replayed in his mind, an unceasing loop of sound—the blast, the terrified child clutched in his arms, and then the abrupt realization that his arm was gone.

If only you could rewind time, swallow your spiteful words before they had the chance to inflict such damage. But regret was a cruel companion, reminding you of the fracture you'd created, the hurt you'd inflicted upon someone who had always championed you, who had fought his own battles to protect others.

The silence that followed felt like a heavy shroud, a stark reminder of the gulf that had opened up between you. This was no longer a mere argument; it was a betrayal of trust, a wound that might forever leave its mark. Amidst it all, Luka's demeanor, marked by an uncharacteristic despondence, conveyed more than any words ever could. He had not only lost an arm that day, but a piece of his identity, and your thoughtless words had torn open that wound once more.

The lingering echoes of your harsh words filled the room, a suffocating presence that refused to dissipate. What had started as a disagreement had evolved into a tempestuous clash of emotions, and now, as the storm subsided, you stood on the precipice of a newfound understanding.

You observed as Luka's shoulders sagged, his usual vivacity extinguished, replaced by an aura of fragility. The robotic arm, once emblematic of his resilience and strength, seemed paradoxically delicate, a testament to his struggles and victories.

Luka's gaze dropped to his mechanical limb, his fingers tracing its contours absentmindedly. You had anticipated anger, a retort as fiery as the hair atop his head, a defense of his worth and sacrifices. Yet, instead, there was an atypical stillness—a silence that resonated more profoundly than any response ever could.

In that moment, regret engulfed you, a visceral sensation that seemed to grip your heart. You had crossed a line that could never be redrawn. You had wounded him, not just physically, but in the depths of his being. Your words had struck at the heart of his pain, unearthing memories he had sought to bury—the memory of a day when he had faced danger head-on to protect the innocent.

Images flashed through his mind—the deafening blast, the searing agony that followed, the moment he had looked down to see his arm brutally severed. Blood mingled with dirt, a stark reminder of his vulnerability.

And now, your words had torn through his defenses, exposing the fragility that lurked beneath his resilience, the wounds that time had yet to heal. You had ripped open a wound that had taken immense effort to close, reopening the scars of a battle he had fought not only physically, but within the recesses of his soul.

The following day arrived, and you found yourself standing outside Luka's door, a mixture of guilt and apprehension churning within you. Hours had been spent reflecting on your actions, on the gravity of your mistake. Apologies, you knew, could never fully mend the damage inflicted, but you were resolute in your determination to try.

As the door creaked open, Luka's form came into view, his eyes still holding traces of the sorrow you had wrought. Your voice trembled as you began, "Luka, I... I'm so sorry. There are no words to convey how deeply remorseful I am for what I said. It was thoughtless, cruel, and I understand if you can't find it in your heart to—"

A gentle touch, Luka's finger against your lips, silenced your words. His touch was surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the turmoil that churned within you. His eyes met yours, a fusion of pain, understanding, and a hint of forgiveness.

"It's going to take time," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that spoke of the battles he had fought within himself. "I won't pretend that your words didn't hurt, but I also know that people say things they don't mean in the heat of the moment. Just… give me some time to heal."

You nodded, tears pricking at your eyes as you realized the depth of his generosity. He was willing to give you a chance to make amends, to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship. You wanted to reach out, to hold him, to promise that you would do everything in your power to make things right.

But you also understood that healing would be a journey, one that couldn't be rushed. Luka's struggle with his loss had been a testament to his strength, and now, as you faced the consequences of your actions, you were determined to show him your own strength—a strength that lay in your willingness to confront your mistakes and to fight for the love that had been tested but not broken.

#˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ mai writes #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #luka #hsr luka #luka strongarm x reader #luka strongarm #luka x reader #luka honkai star rail #honkai star rail luka #luka hsr #honkai star rail angst

[mrcr1ms0n]

STARBOY (JESSKAS ANGST) PT 1: LUKASES POV

Hrejejeke i wanted to write something sad

#mcsm #minecraft #minecraft story mode #mcsm jesse #mcsm lukas #silly #jesse mcsm #jesskas #angst #writing

[verfound]

FIC: Coffee Shop Soundtrack: 7/11 (MLB; Luka)

Notes: [Long note; now eleven chapters; big thank yous 🖤]

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6

Coffee Shop Soundtrack

Chapter Seven: That Wednesday He Met Sarah

As nice as Saturday had been, weekends can only last so long.  Eventually they always end and you have to face the music – answering for the sins of Saturday night on Sunday morning and all that.  For Luka, his Sunday morning didn’t really come until Wednesday afternoon.

The high he’d carried with him from his day with Marinette had lasted through most of Sunday.  It had dissipated slightly when he’d gone to work Sunday night, replaced with that niggling sense of dread he’d left with on Friday, but Beatrice still wasn’t working and, according to Trevor, Andrew hadn’t been in all day.

“We got a call from someone complaining about the tuna,” Trevor had said with a shrug, “but he didn’t even call to file a complaint.  I think you’re good, man.”

So, at least for Sunday, Luka had tried to dismiss the squirming in his gut and be good.  All it took was Trevor asking him how his Saturday had gone for that feeling to return, and after that the rest of the shift had been easy.

#miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #anarka couffaine #original female character #ml fic #ver fic #coffee shop soundtrack #angst #family drama #uh oh #this is my favorite chapter guys #shit starts to hit the fan #I love writing Anarka #now with actual fic link oops 😂

[seas-of-silver]

for the ask game- since my lukalix brainrot is in perpetual bloom: Gleaming blue eyes behind dyed bangs glanced away, the question followed by familiar unease punctuated by the soft shifting of water against metal: "Do you ever feel yourself... slipping from the present?"

Gleaming blue eyes behind dyed bangs glanced away, the question followed by familiar unease punctuated by the soft shifting of water against metal: 'Do you ever feel yourself... slipping from the present?'

Alix gave an empty laugh as she sat next to Luka on the bow of the Couffaine boat, glad those eyes of his weren't focused on her as she stared at the water. Those eyes of his had a power over her that she couldn't explain.

'The present is the only constant I can rely on,' Alix answered wryly. 'The present is wherever I am right now, the past is where I was, and the future is where I will be. The past could be three thousand years from now, and the future could be two hundred years ago. If I try to think of time as chronological, I'd have gone insane ages ago. As a famous British character once said, think of it more as "a big ball of wibbley-wobbly timey-wimey stuff".'

She chuckled to herself. Turns out Doctor Who made discussing time-travel and the experience thereof a lot easier.

'Why d'you ask?' she said, turning to the young man next to her. 'Are you "slipping from the present"?'

All humour dissipated into the air and floated away as she regarded him. Ever since she left her normal life behind for one hopping across time and space, she had made occasional visits to her friends when it was safe to do so - she was strict about her visits, making sure it was completely safe before venturing homeward, and if she only had, say, twenty-eight minutes to enjoy her friends' company, she'd be popping back into the Burrow by the twenty-seventh minute. Sometimes she'd see one friend or family member, other times a group of them, and while she enjoyed every second with them, it made parting all the more gut-wrenching. Most visits had either Adrien, Luka, or Marinette checking in with her about how she was coping, and that's how she built up a strong friendship with the guitarist. He was the one who understood the best what she was feeling, what she was going through, and his support was a godsend. But now, it seemed, it was time to return the favour.

'Luka, what's wrong?'

'Something's... wrong,' he answered, looking rather peaky. 'Ever since Monarch was defeated, there's been this... sense of wrongness. Like... the world's axis has shifted. Like the sky is a little too close to the ground. Like the sun is now rising in the south and setting in the north. Something about our world post-Monarch isn't right.' Luka sighed wearily. 'I've barely been able to get a good night's sleep since. I've been constantly on edge. There's this crawling under my skin that's never-ending. I just... I can't- I...'

As Luka's fingers dragged through his hair in frustration, Alix frowned. Luka was well-known for being super in-tune with people and the world, and it is what made him such an unique and awesome person, and for her, a fabulous companion. She found his insight invaluable, and trusted him when he said something was off.

Suddenly, she felt exposed. She thought she'd be safe, visiting home, but now, she could have put herself, her friends, her family, the world in terrible danger. She felt like she could be sick.

'I- I'll look into it,' she promised.

'Please,' he begged, his voice trembling. 'I... please.'

She hugged him, sitting there in the uneasy silence for a few minutes more, until her alarm to leave went off. Quietly, she untangled from him and stood.

'I promise, Luka, I'll get to the bottom of this,' she told him, before walking down the stairs into the boat, transforming, and darting into her Burrow. She had work to do.

~/~

Ask game: Give me the first sentence and I'll write a short piece for it!

#why are both the Lukalix answers so angsty? #idk honestly #it's the mood I guess #pyrusinc #ask game #writing game #seasofsilver writes #miraculous ladybug #ml #luka couffaine #alix kubdel #bunnyx #lukalix #angst #ml season 5 spoilers #fandom friends #first sentence then scene

[wooawi]

Rock Bottom

Chloe’s not having the best time following the events of Miracle Queen. Lucky for her, some future superheroes are here to save the day!

preview below the cut.

It was the second week of school when she arrived, the blonde girl with a face too familiar for Chloe not to connect the dots immediately. She guessed it was some of the glamour magic keeping her from actually recognising the girl, even though she had no mask.

Madame Bustier had been at her desk, clicking away on her computer as she took role for the day, when a powder blue portal had opened in front of the class and a bunny-themed hero hopped out.

Her hair was the same blonde shade as Chloe’s, but was styled into a messy wolfcut. The tips faded into white, the same white as the stomach and calf of her costume, while the rest of her outfit was the same blue as the portal. There were black dots at her joints, all in the same style as the pocket watch hanging by her hip. She was holding a blue umbrella by her side, the tip barely grazing the floor. There was also a simple blue comb on one of her bangs, just above the pilot goggles on her head.

Alix muttered something about “Bunnyx”, but the class was too focused on the intruder to the room.

Her eyes widened when she realised where she was, her gaze flying around the room filled with astonished children. “Oh shit,” she said, ignoring the frantic splutters of Madame Bustier, and turned back to stick her head in the portal. “You sure this is the right spot, Buginette?”

#ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #chloenette #lukadrien #time travel #chloe bourgeois #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #luka if u squint #this has no plot relevance just wanted a break from all the chloe angst i was writing at the time lmao

[goggles-mcgee]

Too Late: Jagged, Penny & Clara

Latest Chapter in the story for @miner249er 

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Summary: Regret is a funny, ugly little thing and Jagged regretted a lot, but nothing more than not noticing how much Marinette was hurting. He regretted not being there, so he's ready to help in anyway he can, even if Marinette isn't there to see it.  

Random notes swam through the air as Jagged plucked at his guitar string every now and then, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. He wasn’t a man that liked to be weighed down by his troubles, it was what made him a great Rockstar because usually he could put his troubles into notes and make a killer song out of them which in some weird way helped him work through them. But I don’t think all the songs I could write in the world could get me through this…He thought with a grimace. It hurt to move his face much given the amount of tears he had shed since Paris had been “liberated.” What a joke that was. Paris wasn’t liberated. Not really. Sure they no longer had Hawkmoth looming over them like some kind of sadistic twisted talent scout, but they weren’t better. The random bouts of yelling and crying and laughing at inappropriate times were a testament to that. 

No one knew how to feel their emotions healthily anymore so they all came out in these ugly blobs. Jagged felt bad, he really did, especially given he wasn’t in Paris a lot of the time during Hawkmoth’s reign. Sure it seemed like he was but Jagged could only handle so much of Paris before he felt like a balloon filled with too much air and Penny knew that. So they would always go to one of his houses in Daresbury where his mother had lived before she passed. If there was one thing Jagged understood and prioritized with himself, it was his emotions. When he was younger, about mid-teens, his parents fought about his “behavior” and how he was a bad egg. Well that’s what his father said, it was always something along those lines and he always used what he said as an excuse to hit Jagged, to “shape him up.” His father had always said he was ungrateful and lazy and had too much of an attitude, but his mum, God bless his dear mum, she knew something wasn’t okay.

It was when she took him to a doctor to talk about it that his dad really freaked, he never liked to talk about that night but that was the night Bruce Lewis went to prison and Jagged and his mother were admitted to the hospital. That was also the night his mother decided to change Jagged’s last name to her maiden name, so there was no part of him attached to his father in any way. That was the night Jagged became Jareth David Stone and he had cried. Things got better for them and things got a bit worse of course, his mum had to provide for the two of them and on top of that they were doing their best to learn about BPD, specifically Bipolar II Disorder since that was Jagged’s official diagnosis. It wasn’t always perfect but damn it was a happy time for the both of them, of course Jagged still had his ups and downs but his mother was always there to help him or just support him during his episodes. She was a kind soul that always saw the good in people and she was so protective over those she cared about.

Maybe that’s why he liked Marinette so much. She reminded him of his mother in all the best ways and unfortunately all the bad ways too. Both women were too afraid to tell people no or let people know when they themselves needed help. Jagged’s heart hurt at the memories that rushed into his head but it was true. His mum had the weight of the world on her shoulders for so long that when she had the opportunities to ask for help, she never did, and on some levels Jagged understood but then he’d remember that damned phone call that came. That one from a doctor he hadn’t known about told him the words he dreaded to hear most, his mother had died. At first he hadn’t believed the man, he thought it was some cruel joke by some obsessed fan of his that was looking for his attention, or perhaps some tabloid journalist that was looking for a story to make a fool out of him by saying he cried over the phone. Unfortunately it was neither of those things, his mother had well and truly died in the hospital due to a nasty case of pneumonia.

It had torn his world apart. He canceled everything once he was sure, his remaining tour dates, his guest appearances, his CD and record signings, all of it. History repeats itself, he mused. When he heard that Marinette had gone missing he had honest to God felt the World tilt in an attempt to dislodge him. He had been floating in space in this numbness before he had one of his worst episodes, it wasn’t as bad as the one he had when he found out his mother died or when he found out he had been a father of twins and hadn’t been there for them or Anarka but it was up there. The teen had kicked the door to his heart in and basically lived there with all his other loved ones. It wasn’t an exaggeration when he said, even if it was only to himself, that Marinette was like another kid to him. He saw her as a daughter and that made everything so much worse. Jagged knew she had Tom and Sabine but there was no denying that he and Penny saw Marinette as a daughter and they both knew that Tom and Sabine knew. 

He had just gotten back into Paris after going on a small tour for his new album when the world crumbled around him. Penny had gotten them their usual room at Le Grand Paris while they had been trying to close a deal on some property so they could have a more permanent home there as well so they wouldn’t have to stay at the hotel every time they came back to Paris. Jagged had been so excited that he had been back in Paris and that he would be able to spend time with Luka, Juleka and Marinette that he barely slept on the plane ride back so he basically crashed as soon as they checked in and he blamed himself for that everyday now. Maybe if he had been awake, maybe if he had had seen the news he would have been able to call Marinette and maybe just maybe she wouldn’t have been akumatized. No one deserved to be akumatized but if someone had to be he would have taken that possessed butterfly a thousand times over for Marinette. 

Knowing that Luka and Juleka had been akumatized had ripped his heart into messy pieces, knowing he hadn’t been there for them even if at the time he hadn’t known about them but when he knew he made sure both of them knew they could call and that he would be there for them no matter what. They were all learning how to rely on each other, them with their everyday issues and him letting them help and even just see his episodes. It was tough to be so vulnerable in front of his children because he wanted them to rely on him and he had those twisted thoughts that screamed that once his kids saw one of his episodes, that they would turn tail and run. He knew it wasn’t true, they proved time and time again that they didn’t think any less of him, nor were they afraid of his episodes and God…he loved his kids. He loved them so much. Jagged had never understood when parents had said that a parent’s love for their kids was something that could never be described, it was all encompassing, it was … frightening. Jagged had never understood until he did.

Loving his children was as easy as it was heartbreaking. It was easy because there were just so many things about each one that added to his ever growing love of them, and it was heartbreaking because of every hurt they felt and that heartbreak seemed to multiply ten-fold with Hawkmoth. Hawkmoth had managed to akumatize two of his three children and maybe it was awful of him to wish and pray it, but dammit did he wish and pray that Marinette would be spared. Of course he wished Luka and Juleka weren’t victims of Hawkmoth over and over like that pigeon guy, but there was just something about Marinette that made it seem like if she got akumatized, things really were bad. They all found out what that something was he mused as he played the familiar cords of his Ladybug song. It was common for him to make all his songs work on piano and guitar. Piano for his Mum, guitar for him. His Mum adored piano and had come from a pretty well-off family when she was young so she had been classically trained in piano. 

“Have you heard?” The familiar voice of Clara Nightingale crashed through Jagged’s thoughts. 

“Hello Clara.” Penny, ever so polite, greeted.

Jagged sat up on his couch and gently put his guitar down as he gave the younger singer a once-over. It had been a good while since she had ditched her signature microphone so it was no surprise to not see it. What was a surprise was the look of fury on her face. “Heard what?”

“Goodness you haven’t.” Clara sighed out harshly, it almost sounded like a growl as she began to pace. “I…I hate to be the one to give you the latest “miraculous” news but I mean, this might be better than hearing it on the news like I just did. They are planning to make an animated show revolving around Marinette! As Ladybug! The sketches they released look exactly like her! And, and they are basically just making it a biography in cartoon form! With “creative” additions.” 

“I’m scared to ask what those “creative” additions are.” Penny wrinkled her nose, most likely trying to think up what they meant by “creative” and whatever she was thinking was particularly unpleasant. 

Clara continued to pace and Jagged distantly wondered if it was actually possible for someone to wear a floor down so much they just fall through. Then it all caught up to him and his blood froze before boiling. “They must actually be fucking insane. Pen…Pen, get the lawyers. All of them. Mar…Marinette has gone through enough. She doesn’t need this, she doesn’t need people exploiting her life for money. Her likeness for money.”

“I’ll add my lawyers to the pile too if it’ll help.” Clara offered as she plopped herself down on the couch opposite of Jagged. The poor girl looked like she hadn’t slept in days. She hid it well, unlike her heartbreak which Jagged related to all too well. When everything hit the fan, Jagged became quieter and louder, it was exhausting, and Clara…Clara lost her spark. She stopped rhyming. She stopped dancing. She still wrote music, he knew she did because she would come over to either work on said music, collaborate, or just work through the emotions with music. Jagged also knew it was as out of worry for a friend as it was guilt. Clara had confided in him and Penny that she had recently commissioned Marinette for a new jacket and matching skirt for a new music video she was going to shoot just before the teen had gone missing. 

Clara had weeped, wailed, thrown whatever was in reach because she blamed herself for adding stress on Marinette’s plate. Everyone in the room knew the teen had a problem with saying no to others but they had thought they had made sure she knew that she could always tell them no, no matter the circumstances. They should have known that no matter what they said the teen never would have taken it easy if it meant she could help them, Marinette loved helping others even if it meant the decline of herself. Whether that be in time, mental or physical health or even personal care. It reminded him of himself or Clara when they were in a creative rut and felt like they needed to produce something. 

Whatever they pushed themselves to do always could have come out better if they had made themselves relax and take a moment to just breath and exist. That was just the curse of creative people though, or that’s how Jagged felt anyway, and Marinette was a very creative person. She didn’t stop at one medium of art, she excelled in fashion, she loved to do digital art, any crafts she could make with her hands were mastered in no time. It was like she was made from pure creativity. It was insane and it was like if you were near her, you just felt so inspired to create. It was one of the many things that Jagged loved about the girl. She knew how to help bounce ideas around and when too much was too much, sure it would take her a while to find her voice but when she did you couldn’t help but listen. 

Marinette was an inspiration without even being Ladybug. Being Ladybug just added to it all. So it was no surprise that people wanted to tell others about her, it was the way they were doing it that was pissing Jagged off. “I want to talk to the show’s creator, the writers, the works! Pen, we also need to call Tom and Sabine, if they don’t already know we need to tell them, and if they do know then we need to tell them we are calling the lawyers up and what we are planning to do to make sure this show doesn’t do Marinette wrong.” 

“I’ll give them a call now.” Penny confirmed with a soft smile directed at Jagged, one he hoped he reflected but honestly he felt so drained. “Clara, how about you get comfortable? We were about to order lunch and we would love to have you.”

Clara slumped further into the couch and gave Penny a fond smile as she shook her head. They both knew it wasn’t a question to stay and have lunch, Penny was telling Clara she was having lunch with them. “Whatever you say Pen.”

While Penny did that Jagged turned to Clara to really look at her and sighed, “How are you doing kid?” 

“As well as I can be. I’ve been seeing that therapist you suggested. The one in London? She’s been helping.”

“Good. I’m glad. Maggie is always a joy to see when I visit her sister Anna for a session. Anna was the one who suggested Maggie, and maybe it’s a bit of a little sister bias but she did say sometimes it’s easier to speak to people that are closer in age to us. Well for some people.” Jagged shared.

Clara nodded. “Yeah, I think her being closer to my age does help. It feels like I’m just venting to a friend or something which is nice.”

“See? Therapy ain’t so big and scary.” 

“Not if you have the right therapist you mean.” Clara snarked. 

“Okay, fair.” Jagged conceded. 

Penny walked back over to them, plopped herself next to Jagged, and laid her head on his shoulder before she let out a long sigh. He rubbed her back slowly, “Tough call, Love?”

“I just can’t handle hearing Sabine cry anymore Jareth. It breaks my heart.” Penny practically whispered.  

“I know, Love. Me too. But we’re gonna do something to hopefully help her days get a little more bearable.”

“If only we could sue The Followers. They’re doing more damage than anyone.” Clara huffed, her eyes wet with tears. The Followers…they had all been hurt in some way by the group. Jagged’s heart still hurt at the thought of his Eiffel Tower glasses that had been stolen from the very hotel they were staying in. They even got their grubby little hands on a pocket square, the very first thing Marinette had made for Penny. At first, Jagged hadn’t even wanted to stay at the stupid hotel after the pain it had caused due to its lax security, but after watching the footage of the overwhelming rush/attack of the hotel, he really couldn’t blame them. There were just so many of them, and they acted all at once. It was terrifying. 

“Dad!” That one word broke their little bubble and immediately set Jagged on edge. He didn’t even realize he had gotten to his feet until he was already halfway towards the door meeting Luka and his friend Kagami. 

“Luka. What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Is Juleka hurt? Your mom?”

“Dad. Dad, no. We’re fine. None of us are hurt.” Luka said as he put his hands on Jagged’s shoulders that sank when he realized his son, daughter and their mother were not in danger or hurt. 

“Well I wouldn’t say we are fine but we are not in immediate danger.” Kagami said from her place beside Luka. 

“Come sit down. Lunch will be here and you guys can tell us what is going on.” Penny said calmly, Jagged was once again thanking his lucky star that he met her and fell in love with her. She always knew how to keep a level head. 

“Lunch sounds swell, thank you.” Kagami, also someone who knew how to keep a level head nodded before she took a seat next to Clara. Luka was still standing looking more than a bit harried though. 

“You okay kiddo? You look like five different genres of music are blasting at full volume in your ears.” Jagged put a hand on Luka’s shoulder and gently guided him to the couch so he could sit down. Now that he got a closer look, it seemed as though both teens had been running at some point. Maybe even to the hotel and that worried Jagged. 

Luka sighed but gave Jagged a relieved smile, “That’s exactly how I feel. Everything is just…it just feels so…if I had my guitar I’d be able to show it but…everything is just so overwhelming is the best I can put it.” 

“Well, lay it on your old man, what’s going on?”

Luka bit his lip before he took a deep breath in, locked eyes with Kagami and then with Jagged. “Kagami and I had been noticing weird things while we were out…and like at first we didn’t think anything of it, I mean everything has been weird since…since Mar-...well you know.”

Jagged nodded, he did know. Marinette’s disappearance was like Paris’s own Pandora’s box. “Yeah I getcha.”

“It was actually a couple days ago that things progressed but we never thought they would act so quickly or in such a way. Basically, we noticed people watching us at first, which was strange but given everything that has happened we thought we just had to get used to it.” Kagami picked up after Luka. 

“Watching you?” Clara echoed, worry clear in her voice. “How many people?”

“We never got a good enough look at first.” Luka mumbled like he was ashamed they hadn’t been more observant. Dammit they were kids! They shouldn’t feel bad about not being on guard twenty-four seven, and they certainly shouldn’t feel the need to note everything going on around them. “But then it uh, upgraded.”

“Upgraded?” Penny’s voice and grip on the back of the couch was tight.

“A group of people started to follow us. It was small. We thought we could handle it.” Kagami informed them stiffly.

“Kid…” Jagged breathed out.

“We…They weren’t saying anything or chasing us. We thought it-that they would go away. Like a rumor or something.” Luka tried to explain.

“But from there we noticed the groups getting bigger, they were following us longer…” Kagami trailed off as she started down at her lap. “Then we noticed them following us online as well.”

“We thought if we blocked the random people it would help. It didn’t. Eventually we went private, if you noticed that’s uh, that’s why. We didn’t know why they were doing all of this until today…” Luka sounded so small and Jagged wanted nothing more than to pull his kid into his arms but they were still mapping out physical affection and he didn’t want to make things worse in case that was a no-go for Luka. 

“Today they group approached us…” Kagami said, her voice shook. Jagged’s heart broke all over again, this was a spunky girl who usually was never bothered by anything. At the end of the day though, she was just a kid, a kid trying to deal with too much by herself. “I should have brought my sword. I always take my sword but today I didn’t and…The group approached us and started shouting questions. They even tried to get us to sign things.” 

“Sign things?” Clara asked, alarmed.

“Nothing bad, just autographs.” Luka jumped in to comfort Clara.

“Autographs.” Penny deadpanned.

“To be frank,” Kagami began, “They believe that Luka and Myself were Viperion and Ryuuko respectively. Apparently we have…fans. Though some of the questions asked were why we failed Ladybug, or something similar.” 

“They asked us to confirm our “identities.” Other questions were just really creepy. They kept trying to shake our hands.” Luka shuddered.

“Apparently some even run blogs about us. One even knew my favorite drink.” Now it was Kagami who sounded small.

Jagged was burning mad. He was trying his best not to lose it, but FUCK he was scared for his kid! Mad for his kid! Luka and Kagami did not deserve this, any of this. They deserved to mourn their friend, hope for her return, binge eat ice cream and cry. They did not deserve to be stalked. No one deserved to be stalked, and if there was anything that Jagged hated, it was stalkers. “Penny. Clara. I need you both to call up any good bodyguards you know. No Luka, no arguing. These people are stalking you. Stalking you. Stalkers escalate, Son. I don’t want to see you hurt, either of you. So until we can figure out what we can do legal wise, I need to know you two are safe and that means bodyguards.”

Luka and Kagami just looked at Jagged like he hung the moon and he did his best not to cry from feeling overwhelmed himself. He was doing the bare minimum of being a parent he thought. But he would earn those looks, he promised himself at that moment that he would.

Next Chapter

#too late commission #goggles writes #goggles commission #ml salt fic #jagged stone #penny rolling #clara nightingale #miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #kagami tsuguri #marinette dupain cheng #marinette deserves better #angst #hurt and a wee bit of comfort #none of marinette's family and friends are having a good time #they all need a hug #drowning in guilt #jagged loves his kids

[fruitdragon1a]

For @mlbfemslashfebruary 24!

Day 10: Juleka/Rose 'hold', 'dress'

holding onto the memory of you (T) - 2237 words

Juleka and Rose are on the métro when something happens to Rose.

#mlbfemslashfebruary #mlbfemslashfebruary2024 #mlb fic #ml fic #mlb fanfic #ml fanfic #juleka couffaine #rose lavillant #luka couffaine #miraculous ladybug #julerose #angst #bittersweet #fic #fanfic #ao3 fic #my writing #oneshot #major character death #tw: cancer #this fic will tear your heart apart and piece it back together #at least that's what anyone who read it said

[sssusuki]

He loved her. He loved her so much that he had to distance himself from her. Because a weakness here, in Alien Stage, was the worst thing one could have, and as long as he knew she was safe that was enough for him. Even if she hated him, even if she loathed his existence. At least she was safe.

#luka #hyuna #I am gonna write so much angst its not even funny #prepare yourselves #alien stage #vivinos #alnst

[inscrutable-shadow]

Whumptober 2023 Day 10 - Coda

@whumptober-archive

No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you’d never leave.”

this... isn't canon lol. and i guess a form experiment is the "coy is running out of time for ideas" default XD

Luka is the Doc's ex-spouse/QPP that they would never talk about ever to anyone even if they hadn't forced themselves to repress the details. Have their last conversation before Luka walked out with their children.

contains: angst

also available on ao3!

“I’m leaving.”

“All right, then.”

“I don’t mean I’m going out. I’m taking the kids and I’m leaving.”

“All right, then.”

“And? Look at me, Rowan.”

“Best of luck to you?”

“You don’t even care that you’ll never see the kids again?”

“I believe that between the two of us, it is clear who is better equipped to care for them. My feelings on the matter are irrelevant.”

“That’s it? Ten years and your feelings are irrelevant?”

“What response would you prefer, Luka? If I were to fall to my knees, sobbing and begging you to stay, you would only see it as confirmation that I am cruel and manipulative and that you are right to continue on your course. You uncovered information that altered your desire to continue with the relationship. It would be futile for me to attempt to hold you.”

“I guess, but… don’t you feel any sort of remorse?”

“I make my choices very carefully, Luka. My only regret is that you had to find out this way.”

“So that you couldn’t smooth it over with lies.”

“Not lies. You are easy to distract with displays of vulnerability and professions of love. You would have forgotten key details and what remained would have been easily explainable. A few sessions of therapy would have been trivial to fake making progress in, and the matter would have dropped.”

“Oh, so you really are just a manipulative bastard.”

“That would be easier, wouldn’t it? To believe that the person you saw on those tapes, gleefully hacking through subjects, and the person with whom you have raised your children could not coexist, that one must be false and the other true. It is a lie I tell myself rather frequently as well. Is that what you would like me to say to you?”

“Rowan—”

“Is not my name, you know. An alias, like every other name I have used since adulthood. Everything I have told you has been a lie. I have never cared for you. I am not capable of that sort of emotional attachment. I found you useful and entertaining, nothing more. You were an experiment, and now the research is concluded. Does that comfort you?”

“... How much of it is true?”

“Ah, now that is the question. Not every falsehood has its root in ill intent. You told me when we were much younger that you would never allow me to push you away, no matter how hard I tried. Now look at us. Older, wiser, less idealistic. Seeing the world as it is.”

“...Goodbye, Rowan.”

“Live well, Luka.”

this is not what people on the doc's taglist usually expect to see but let's gooo: @athenswrites @i-eat-worlds @demondamage

#whumptober 2023 #whumptober2023 #no.10 #you said you'd never leave #oc #fic #angst #original fiction #my writing #writeblr #coy writes #whumpblr #coy whumps #the doctor five card draw #first do harm au #the doc did actually care about luka and the kids ofc #fortunately teen doc already figured out what to do with memories that hurt! #that's right! repress it!

[goldenlaurelleaveswrites]

These Autumn Days are Drifting by Like Falling Leaves

17. Whispers 

Based on this prompt list

AO3

A continuation of Black Cat 

_______________________________________________

“I’m terrified of ghosts.”

“Ghosts? You fight akumas almost every day, and you’re scared of ghosts?”

“I know what to expect for akumas. Usually,” he amended. “They’re tangible. Well, most of the time. Ghosts on the other hand…”

“Aren’t real?’ 

“Very funny, you know what I mean.”

“I do.” She squeezed her pinky just a little tighter around his. He returned the gesture, and she could hear his smile in his soft exhale. 

“Your turn.” 

She let out a thoughtful breath as she snuggled deeper into the nest of blankets and pillows she had made for them on her floor. She stared up at her ceiling, unable to see it in the pitch black. The darkness… it was the only way he could be without the mask around her. His pinky twitched around hers in a rhythmic beat. It was always music with him… 

“I hate being class president.”

“Really?”

“I only ran in the first place because Alya… she said someone had to make sure Chloe didn’t win again.” 

His pinky tightened around hers. “Why didn’t she run then?” 

“She ran as my deputy. But she’s… She doesn’t like dealing with all the nitty gritty details that go into planning things. And she said she’s too busy with her blog- and I like- liked doing it. Planning stuff and all that. At first. But…” she sighed. “But everyone always wants more now, and I can’t say no. Not without causing a stir, and I don’t want to- you know what my school is like…” 

“I do.” His voice was heavy. 

“I never know what’s going to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Sometimes… sometimes I wonder if it’s intentional that Hawkmoth targets our school so much…”

“It’s something Ruby and I have been wondering about for a while… Given how often akumas happen at your school, well... we’ve talked about it a lot. Something about that place just isn’t right.” She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to hear that last part, but she laughed humourlessly.  

“I’ll say.” 

“But I’m glad he hasn’t gotten to you.” Her breath caught in her throat. And had it not been for the fact that she could feel her heart pounding in her chest, she would have thought it had stopped entirely. Which was stupid. Because him being glad she hadn’t akumatized- it didn’t mean anything. All it meant was-

“Yet,” she muttered. 

“I hope he never does.” There was always something so gentle about his voice. But he said it so- so firmly… “You know… I never wanted to be a hero. I still don’t really understand how it happened. But I can’t be mad about it.”

“Why?” 

“Because it means I can protect people.” 

Her foolish, stupid heart swore it heard ‘like you,’ even though he hadn’t said those words. And it was stupid It was his job to protect people. Everyone. 

And yet… 

 At the start, it had always been obvious that his visits were business. He checked up on her because of the akumas. Dupont had earned itself a reputation for being a breeding ground for them. And out of all her classmates, who were so often akumatized, she was the only one who hadn’t been. Besides Adrien. She was one of the few students left in the entire school who hadn’t been.  

Those visits had always been brief; he would drop by her balcony and check in, then he would disappear into the night. Gone in the blink of an eye. But those visits had gradually turned into longer ones. Ones where they exchange casual, f slightly distant small talk over hot chocolate. 

Then those visits, those talks had changed… 

Slowly, their talks had grown deeper. Like roots seeking water. It had happened so slowly, that suddenly, their talks had begun to stretch out into the night. They had talked about Paris. About her friends and family. He had spoken vaguely of the people he cared about. And as the season had slipped away, and winter had descended over the city in gleaming frost and flurries, his visits had changed again. 

They no longer passed the nights away talking under the stars. 

They retreated to the warmth and sanctuary of her room. In hushed tones, they talked about their lives. About the things they loved doing and the chores they hated most, and the music they listened to and the books they read. 

And then there had been a power outage, and once more, his visits had changed. 

It hadn’t been related to an akuma for once. It had felt like a novelty, sitting in the light one minute and being plunged into a non-akuma-related darkness the next. 

It had been complete darkness. With her blackout blinds over all her windows and no light source to be seen, the darkness had been all-encompassing.

And it had been in that moment, when she had blindly reached for him, stumbling through the darkness, that they had both realized…

After that, as soon as he entered her room and the trap door was shut tight, he would turn off the lights and pick his way through her room to sit next to her. And then, once he was settled in the safety of the darkness, he would drop his transformation. 

They traded their hushed talks for whispered confessions. Something about being in complete darkness, with him unmasked… something about it demanded they speak only in whispers. In whispers, they shared all the big and little things that made them who they were. Their fears and insecurities, their hopes and dreams. 

And their secrets. 

The first time he had touched her without his costume on, it had been when he told her a secret. His hand had brushed by hers, and they had always been so careful; he had jewelry and scars, and Paris was a big city. But it had also always been a magic city. Even before the miraculi had appeared. And you never knew who you might bump into… so they had always been careful. But then his hand had brushed by hers, and somehow, their pinkies had become intertwined. 

And they had stayed that way that entire night. 

And every night since then, their pinkies always ended up linked. Twisted around the other’s. 

It was all the physical contact they had dared. There was something comforting about it. Something secure. Having that little physical connection with them as they spilled their hearts out to each other in total darkness. It was like holding onto a silent promise. One neither of them had spoken, but they both knew was there. 

But now… it didn’t feel like enough. She wanted more. 

She bit her lip. At least in the pitch black, she didn’t have to worry about him looking over and seeing her face, flushed and wracked with indecision. She let the silence between them draw out as she took one shaky, steadying breath after another. “I… I’ve never kissed anyone before. I’ve never been kissed…” 

His breath audibly hitched in his throat.  

Her own heart froze. 

She had just ruined everything. 

“That- that didn’t have to- I didn’t mean you should- I just meant-“

“You don’t know who I am.” 

“I don’t know your name,” she corrected. 

“It isn’t fair to you…” 

“Is any part of this fair? To either of us?” 

“No… it isn’t…” 

She could hear him shifting in their nest. Even as he moved, their pinkies remained linked. She rolled onto her side, turning toward him. His nose brushed against her own, and suddenly their foreheads were touching.  

His hand was suddenly cupping her face; his touch was delicate and hesitant. She melted into it. The pinky of his other hand tightened just a little more around hers. “It isn’t fair at all…” she whispered, letting her eyes slip shut as his hand tilted her head ever so slightly. 

“Not even a little bit…” 

#endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #pro lukamari #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #AU #marinette doesn't have a miraculous #black cat!luka #pining #angst #a wee bit angsty #writing prompt #monthly writing prompt #These Autumn Days are Drifting by Like Falling Leaves

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Adrien Does a Seduction - Castle in the Mist (One-Shot)

@purrfectlypunny also asked for Lukadrien, so here you go. ^.^

Read it on AO3: Adrien Does a Seduction - Castle in the Mist

Summary: Adrien attempts to seduce Luka. It goes horribly wrong…and then incredibly right.

Pairing: Luka Couffaine/Adrien Agreste

Rating: T

#Lukadrien #Miraculous Ladybug #Luka Couffaine #Adrien Agreste #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Fluff #Angst #Hurt/Comfort #Happy Ending #Flirting #Love Confession #Complicated Feelings #Communication #First Kiss #Kissing #Cuddling & Snuggling #Bed Sharing #Aged-Up (20 and 22) #Writing Prompts #Mikau's Writings #Curiosity Cabinet