Side blog for some ML appreciation. Lukanette, Julerose, Adrimi, Adrino, Feligami and Kitty Section love all around. You're so welcome. || Any salt posts will be properly tagged as "ML salt" and any spoilers as "ml s4 spoilers".
So someone messaged me saying apparently this show DID air somewhere in the early 2000s, and as far they remember it has 4+ seasons?? They also sent me some more screenshots they were able to dig up, with captions too! Thanks anon!!
Couffaine twin kwami swap! I’ve had this idea for a while and I finally did it.
Julekas hair is supposed to resemble the hood do a cobra and I changed her weapon to a whip because I think the lyre is really stupid because 1.) how do you fight with it? 2.) not used in activating the power like the yo-yo and flute, and 3.) not related to snakes. I figured a whip would be far more useful in a fight and also looks like a snake.
I probably could have been more creative with luka but I feel like he came out okay. I changed the stripes from the warm plum color that purple tigress had to a cooler more blue toned purple. I really like his mask since my one complaint about purple tigresses design is that her mask is kind of boring and plain despite tigers having a tone of markings and characteristics on their faces.
I don’t know what they’re names would be any ideas?
Also I’m working on hawkmoths redesign now and I’m pretty happy with it so far.
Marinette paced in thought just outside the Liberty, a box clutched tightly to her chest. She knew it must’ve looked silly overthinking any sort of meeting with a close friend like Luka, but it was hard when it felt so much bigger this time.
Truthfully, she was perfectly happy where they were. They considered themselves best friends, frequently spent time together even if it was simply sitting next to each other while doing their respective hobbies, and were more physically comfortable than she imagined most friends were with each other.
At the same time, there are only so many instances where they could feed each other, “accidentally” brush hands, and cuddle without meaning to that she could still think, okay, but that doesn’t mean it’s mutual.
She tried to excuse it to herself for a while - all childhood friends are probably like that, Luka is just really affectionate, I’m just reading too much into it - but she had overthought it long enough. She wanted him, and if she was going to tell Luka how she felt then she wanted it to be grand.
Brave, to be more precise.
She must’ve been walking back and forth for a while, as footsteps from the Liberty signaled that someone had heard the constant clacking of her shoes. She paused, turning her attention to the sound to see Luka appear. He gave her a questioning look, probably waiting for her to speak first.
Having not planned for any of this yet (in her defense, she did think she could come up with something on the walk there), Marinette could only wave and greet him with, “P-permission to board!”
Embarrassment hit a second later, a groan escaping her as she hid her face with the box.
Luka chuckled good-naturedly, replying, “Aye aye,” before the sound of him setting up the gangplank followed.
Only when the sounds stopped did Marinette look up and walk across to him, nerves thankfully easing as they always tended to when she was close enough to him.
“Hi,” she greeted properly this time, complete with a shy smile.
“Hey,” he greeted back, glancing at the box in curiosity but not prodding about it.
Fidgeting with it as an excuse to have something to do with her hands and keep herself from launching her body at him in a hug (later, she told herself), she explained, “Um, I won’t be here for long. I just wanted to ask you if you could hang out later tonight?”
“Sure—”
“For a sleepover?”
He paused, caught off guard. “Sleepover? Like when we were kids?”
She nodded. “Mhm. I missed doing them, so…”
“No, I…I missed them too,” he admitted with a reassuring smile, a hand going to the back of his head to toy with his hair.
“Really?” she blurted out, then immediately scolded herself for it. It was Luka, who always said how he felt. Of course he meant it. “That’s great!” She bounced in place, excited. “I already picked out a horror movie for us to watch!”
It took a second for the words “horror movie” to register with Luka. Having been friends for long, Marinette could read all the concern on his face and naturally understood it. Everyone knew that she hated horror movies and generally couldn’t deal with blood or gore, but it was all part of her plan.
At the very least, it was cute to see him worry.
“It’ll be okay!” She raised the box to him, wiggling it temptingly. “I even made us matching pajamas for it—!”
“Sounds good,” Luka cut in without missing a beat, the box suddenly gone from her hands. “I’ll see you tonight then.”
——
“And then—!” Marinette pumped her fists up in determination, staring at herself in the mirror for her second pep talk of that day. “I’ll impress him by showing off that I can handle horror movies!”
She looked off to the side, the back of her hand to her forehead as she imitated Luka’s voice to say, “Wow, Marinette, how’d you manage to get over your fear of horror?”
Reaching blindly behind her with her free hand, she pulled her chair close so she could collapse on it, the hand on her forehead dropping to her heart. She replied to herself, “Yeah, there were so many scary things in horror movies, but nothing was scarier than being apart from you for even a second.”
A moment of silence passed. Marinette covered her face and blushed, kicking her legs out wildly at the idea of trying to flirt like that.
This is no time to second guess yourself, she thought. You already went through so much effort!
Which was true. She’d been priming herself for eventual horrors to heighten her tolerance for it. She’d even gone so far as to look through Gabriel Agreste’s upcoming fashion line!
Truly, the deepest level of horror one could imagine.
——
“Are you sure you don’t want help?” Luka asked, almost pouting at her from his place on the couch.
“Yes!” She actually pouted at him, waving the question off. “I’m sure! You’re the guest!”
Making sure they had snacks and drinks for the both of them wasn’t an issue. She’d already prepared all of it beforehand, the biggest problem only being carrying the full tray to the table. As for the horror movie, she’d borrowed one from Juleka, who gave her a weird look but otherwise didn’t question it.
After bringing the tray all the way to the table, Marinette went back to shut off the lights, then hurried over to jump onto the couch and join Luka. On instinct, she snuggled against his side, hand resting against his thigh to press against the fuzzy fabric of his fluffy light blue pajama pants. He responded in kind, his arm wrapping around her waist while his hand secured her side.
…Maybe I really am stupid after all, she thought, realizing the position they were so comfortably in. Swallowing her hope down for the time being, she reached out for the remote and started the movie, Luka’s hand gravitating back to its spot at her side when she leaned back against the couch again.
The film itself started out tame enough. She wasn’t sure if Juleka had given her a more delicate horror movie (not that she thought there was such a thing in the first place: horror was horror) or if it was a slow build, but nonetheless steeled herself for the worst.
All she had to do was last for the whole movie without screaming. It was only an hour and a half or so, after all. Even if there was a lot of blood or something, surely she could handle that. Luka even bled once when they were eight and she’d patched him up with an assortment of cat-themed bandages without fainting even once.
She was sobbing hysterically and had nightmares about it afterwards, but still.
And at the end of the day, even horror movies were an art form just like any other movie, and she loved art. She could appreciate it artistically, thus distancing herself entirely from the—
…W-wow, they… they really made that look realistic. That corpse is… the visual artist did a great job on that. Yep. You can tell that body is definitely very, very dead…
——
Thirty minutes in, and Marinette was decidedly not okay. As she’d (poorly) prepared for, the movie did in fact have a deceptively-innocent opener, and everything after that was a rollercoaster that only went downwards.
Though at least with a rollercoaster, she’d be screaming in delight rather than terror, and she had to bite down her jumpscare-induced scream to the point where she thought she might bite her tongue in half.
Naturally, the mental image that thought brought only sent another wave of disgust through her. What started as her trying to appreciate the movie as an artist quickly turned her into a baker stacking on layers of denial and biting into a cake flavored with nausea.
Nausea on an empty stomach because she hadn’t even touched their snacks and drinks, frozen in place and unable to do much of anything.
She wanted out, her free hand squeezing the poor couch cushion underneath her to no reprieve. The only thing grounding her was Luka, his hand tight against her side and almost hurting her in the process, but that actually made it worse. If he were squeezing her side, the only explanation she could muster was that he knew she was still struggling and opted to comfort her wordlessly rather than address it and potentially embarrass her.
Trying to keep her face as neutral as possible, she looked up at Luka - partly to make an excuse about how she was only shaking because it’s so cold no really but also to get some relief with his handsome face - yet actual words ended up failing her at the sight.
Even in the limited illumination provided by the TV, it was obvious that Luka’s face had paled. His pupils were shrunken in as he stared ahead at the screen and he was blatantly biting down on his bottom lip. Even glancing at the hand that wasn’t against her side, it was in a tight enough fist that his knuckles were white.
“L-L…Luka…?”
He also had never failed to respond whenever she called his name before, not even once. It occurred extremely belatedly to her that Luka wouldn’t have let this go on for so long had she been as scared as she is, and the shaking that should’ve given it away was ignored based on one factor.
Luka was shaking as well.
“L-Luka!”
Movement returned to her body, her hand coming undone with her death grip on the cushion. Not caring nor particularly thinking about which button she might push, she leaned forward and slammed her fist down on the remote.
She only wanted it to end.
The movie blipped off, the sound cutting and screen flickering before turning black. It left them both in darkness for a second until a white text box appeared, telling her that there was no input detected.
The little bit of light allowed her to fix her shaky gaze on Luka again, who snapped back to reality at the realization that the movie had abruptly ended. She even caught the moment that his confusion turned to dread at what she must’ve witnessed to have done what she did.
“M-Marinette…” He trailed off, struggling for a response.
“You…y-you hate h-horror too?”
He avoided her eyes, staring off at things she was certain he couldn’t make out in the darkness. Her hand was still on his thigh and she squeezed for the both of them.
“…I thought you weren’t s-scared of horror movies anymore,” Luka eventually replied.
She couldn’t tell if he was evading or warming her up to his answer, but the night had gone in none of the ways she was hoping. Instead of a romantic atmosphere, they were both anxious and sick from what they’d just watched.
Exasperated at the situation, Marinette threw her arms up and admitted, “O-of course I’m still scared! Horror is—” She hesitated, mind slogging along pathetically slow, and ended up settling for, “—well, h-horrible! I just w-wanted to impress you!”
“You—you didn’t have to do that.” Luka shook his head. “I-I’m already impressed by you.”
Except that wasn’t all, was it? She was going above and beyond for a confession and now it was ruined. She pouted, lamenting, “Yeah, b-but…”
Rubbing her side with one hand, he used his other to pick up the one nearest to him. He took a long breath, trying to steady his voice before speaking again. “I’m sorry. This is my fault too. I…I should’ve said something.”
“Why d-didn’t you?”
It bothered her more than she’d admit out loud that she hadn’t known. She believed strongly that friends - even couples - should be allowed to have their own secrets, but not knowing about a fear, or at least what he hated? She’d hope to know those things even if it was simply to help him avoid them.
Luka took another breath, the words apparently difficult to get out otherwise. Meeting her eyes, he began with, “…You’re not the type of person to play a one-man band.”
“H-huh?”
“You bring so much beautiful music to everyone’s lives, but not everyone does the same for you. It takes a lot of effort to learn an instrument and play to someone else’s tune.”
She blushed. She couldn’t speak about the supposed beautiful music she brought, but it did take a lot of thought and determination to truly learn about someone. That didn’t make it work for her, but that didn’t mean it was easy either.
Luka turned to face her more, leaning down to be more level with her. Strands of blue and black brushed against one another as he pressed his forehead to hers, hesitant in his movements but passionate all the same. Marinette pressed back, welcoming the warmth and the rare contact that they hadn’t shared before.
He continued in a whisper, “Duets take everything up a level. It’s not enough to know or play the same way you always do: you have to be there for your partner and try to play the notes they can’t.”
There was something tender - vulnerable, even - in his words. Gears turned, things clicking into place in her head, and sky blue eyes reflected ocean blue ones as her hopes finally registered to her as reality.
Marinette reached up with both hands, grabbing onto Luka’s shoulders and pushing herself against him. He couldn’t even get her name out of his mouth before she used her weight to knock him down, leaving him breathless and laying against the cushions while her face was buried against his chest.
“I love you too,” she murmured, not caring if it was muffled or not; she knew he would hear her just fine.
She was close enough that she could feel his heart racing, his hands moving to rest on her back and keep her there like he wanted her to hear. She gripped the fabric of his shirt, her face hot at knowing that the heart rate had nothing to do with the movie they’d just watched.
Hers didn’t either.
“Let’s not do this ever again,” she said lightheartedly. “I’ve seen enough horror for the rest of my life.”
Luka hummed in agreement. “I don’t think that’ll stop Jule from watching them when I’m at home.”
“Then don’t be home. You can come here.”
He placed a hand down on the cushion, pushing himself up and wrapping his other arm fully around her to maintain their hold. “I’ll be home no matter what.”
She giggled affectionately, bringing her arms fully around him to return the embrace.
“…Marinette,” he began cautiously.
“Mm?”
He rubbed her back, the shake in his voice returning as he asked, “Can I stay…?”
The question sounded silly on the surface. They’d already agreed to have a sleepover and she’d had her lounge chair set up already to be as comfortable as possible, but his tone gave away the meaning underneath. She didn’t need to see his face to know he was blushing.
“…Yeah. Please.”
——
After putting their untouched snacks and drinks away (a consciously empty stomach was better than a forced empty stomach if the nausea didn’t go away), the two went upstairs, brushed their teeth and washed their hands with the sink in Marinette’s room, and completely passed by the lounge chair.
Luka settled himself into her bed like he was afraid of breaking it, yet somehow looked like he belonged there. Marinette slid in right next to him, legs wiggling and hands eagerly reaching out to welcome him. Absolutely delighted, he shifted closer, allowing her to roam his chest with her hands and feel the fabric of the shirt she made that he was so proudly wearing.
“Did me getting hurt back then really make you more scared of blood?” he wondered aloud, continuing a conversation they’d had while getting ready for bed. It was a strangely good distraction even if the subject was still technically horror-based.
“W-we were eight!” Marinette excused, faintly embarrassed. “I didn’t know how the human body worked and I thought you didn’t have that much blood to spare!”
“Because I was a little pale?” he guessed, as if this was all intensely interesting to him. It was cute.
“No? You were…” She ran a hand through his hair as an example. “You were so pillow-y and soft, inside and out? You were sweet, and your hair was even thicker and fluffier back then.” She giggled sheepishly at her younger self. “Honestly, I thought you were made of marshmallow?”
He laughed. “I thought that would’ve been you.”
“Luka!”
“I’m serious,” he insisted. With added amusement to his tone, he added, “Am I still pillow-y and soft?”
Unconsciously, Marinette swallowed and pulled her hand away from his chest. “E-erm… more or less?”
“More or less?” he prodded.
Feeling attacked even by his genuine curiosity, Marinette rolled over with a huff. “T-the softness moves around from different places, but it’s still the same amount?”
Luka followed after her, arms going around her waist so he could spoon her. “I’m just glad that not much has changed.”
“Y-yeah.”
He wasn’t wrong. She figured that they must be dating now, yet it really felt like not much has changed. More of the same tended to be considered a negative thing, but she only shivered in excitement thinking about having that with Luka.
More creative sessions, more physical contact, more Luka. It was such an alluring thought.
“What about you?” she asked.
“Hm~?”
Rubbing along the arms around her waist in a way she hoped was reassuring, she clarified, “Did something make you scared of horror? Or just more scared?”
“Ah.” Luka smiled sadly. “That was Jule. I never told her.”
“Juleka?” Marinette turned her head to try and see his expression, growing worried. “D-did something bad happen to her? You don’t have to talk about it if—”
“No, nothing happened.” He briefly shifted positions to place a kiss to her temple; a wordless apology for accidentally making her fret over him. “She loved horror movies, even when we were little. I went to bed first, and I didn’t even know she was watching anything.”
Marinette imagined that for a moment, then shuddered, realizing where this was going. “L-Luka…”
“I don’t even know what movie it was, but I heard the screaming.” Luka paused, still sounding haunted by the memory. “I’m sure there must’ve been something that should’ve told me that it wasn’t real, but…”
“You were still a little boy,” she finished, “and it sounded like someone was attacking your family, the only two people you had in your life.”
He held her tighter, nodding. “I found out it was just a movie when I went to look, but I never forgot the feeling.”
Marinette whimpered. “T-that’s…that’s not fair!”
“Jule didn’t know,” he defended immediately. “She probably thought I was asleep and just kept the volume—”
“No! Because—” She squirmed helplessly. “Because I can’t go back in time and meet you sooner! You didn’t have any friends to talk to or comfort you!”
He chuckled, the heaviness in his voice lessening. “Maybe, but you can do whatever you want with me now?”
With a huff, Marinette decided to do just that. She twisted around so Luka’s grip loosened, taking his face in her hands so she could kiss the bridge of his nose. He hummed in content, clearly approving of it.
Then, pouting, she thought aloud, “My story seems a little silly after that.”
“It’s not,” he argued, back on the defensive. “I love that you worried about me so much, even if I don’t like how it hurt you.” Frowning in concern, he reached up to her face and observed, “You still look worn out from the movie too.”
“Y-you do too,” she noted, seeing blatantly on his face that he wasn’t just tired from a need to sleep.
The back of his fingers brushed her lower eyelid and cheek in concern, the close proximity allowing her to smell the blend of his scent and the soap they’d used at her sink. She caught his hand before he could pull it back, intertwining their fingers and bringing them to her lips without quite kissing them. She returned his gesture, easily sliding her hand to the side of his head and running her thumb across whatever skin it could reach from there. He relaxed, eyes half-lidded and content.
She took in the scent again, this time being mixed in with her own hand’s fragrance like some form of soothing balm. Of course, Luka had used the same soap as her before whenever they hung out at the same house, but it felt more intimate this time.
The soap was like a compliment, or like the bridge between their respective scents; the needle between the seamstress and thread or the strings between a guitar and its musician. It occurred to her that it would always be like that if they lived together someday, and the mental image of Luka waking up to her in the morning, blissfully taking in the smell of the hair products she used despite using the same himself, was almost too much for her.
“Marinette?” Luka called out softly, the hand she was holding gripping a little tighter in an unspoken question.
She didn’t know what her face looked like, but she must’ve had a lot of emotions on display. She refused to be “stupid” anymore, not wanting to delay their understanding of one another like they had before.
“…T-they won’t be your only family,” she dared to say, whispering but simultaneously speaking with her whole heart. “Not forever.”
His lips parted in surprise, eyes scanning her to confirm what she’d definitely meant.
Their hands between their bodies suddenly felt like an obstacle, Marinette letting him go so she could cup his cheeks.
“I’ll say something first next time,” she declared, given that he’d confessed before her despite her plans, “a-and it definitely won’t be over a horror movie.”
She kissed him instead of clarifying further, certain that he got the message. Luka’s body came alive at the motion, legs tangling and a hand moving her wrist to invite her touch to his neck.
Judging by how he kissed back, he’d accepted the challenge.
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