Jealous Luka please
A WIP I’m still trying to flush out 🥲
No Félixs were harmed in the making of this
Nerves to be Lost
He must be doing it on purpose, to get a rise out of him. Because as far as Luka knows, Félix gave up on his crush on Marinette years ago. Sure, he still showered her with flatteries and compliments, occasional gifts she often scolded him for. Sure, he also liked to take her to nice places and flaunt his wealth but-
His chest tightens because maybe, just maybe, Félix does still like her. And Luka, although he’s been too nervous to make another move now that they’re older, has been fighting a losing game from the start. Gods, how could he not see it?
Félix and Adrien were identical, so much so that they didn’t come across as cousins. Félix was a more stoic and toned down version of Adrien who Marinette realized would never grow out of his excited puppy phase. Félix knew how to make women swoon.
He watches from his seat outside one of the mall’s stores. He witnesses Marinette come out of the dressing room in a little white sundress that could kill him if he let it. And he watches Félix round his way behind her, inspecting the dress, before he brushes her hair to one shoulder and leans his face closer to her neck, his fingers to the adjustable straps…
And the wicked smirk he aims Luka’s way.
He could fucking kill him. He should. He might.
Luka’s not selfish. He doesn’t let himself be. But he feels he is far more suited to be Marinette’s boyfriend than Félix is.
Luka holds her purse. He keeps a hair tie around his wrist amongst his bracelets just in case she needs it. He writes songs for her that garner him pretty blushes and fumbling words. He brings her out of her panicked and anxious spirals when work becomes too hard or university is getting to her. He’s the one that was Marinette’s first time and vice versa because she wanted it lose it to someone she trusted and she came to Luka for that.
They even take damn naps together all cuddled up. Where does Félix get off thinking that he can take that away from him?
But he swallows it. He bites his tongue. He can’t let his anger and jealousy get the best of him. He-
Is his fucking hand touching the exposed skin of her back? Oh, Félix is a dead man.
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It'd be interesting to see phantom!luka
(WIP spoiler under line)
So this one is angst filled and somewhat modern age mixed with like not modern age. It differs from what the actual story of Phantom of the Opera is because I wanted to do something inspired but original, and also something that I felt both characters could easily fit into.
So to summarize the characters:
Luka- sole survivor of the Couffaine Theatre incident that took the lives of his mother and sister. His father is still famous but unaware his son is still alive and has also been suffering in grief. He was scarred and went from being a shy yet handsome teenage boy that captured the audience while on stage to a 23 year old young man that lives with survivor’s guilt and distrust to the majority. He’s embodied the flames of the theatre by having Master Fu (a wandering soul that lives to lend a helping hand) tattoo black smoke over his scars that are sporadic across his body. One of his eyes is partially blind with vision of looking through a cloudy haze in it from the incident. He sees himself as a monster when he’s nothing of the sort and finds Marinette to be an angel. He believes himself to be a creature of the night with a mask and secrets.
Marinette- a 21 year old looking for her art to mean something when she comes back from studying abroad and decides to restore Couffaine Theatre- a place she fell in love with as a child and that gave way to her seeing her first crush ever on stage. Being one of the youngest and most successful designers to Gabriel Agreste, she has the funds to kickstart the project to try bringing her idea to fruition. Her only issues is how the son of Agreste, infamous playboy and entrepreneur, Adrien, works his way into her head and makes her swoon for his flirtations, only to realize she’d rather throttle him every time he leaves. She’s often seen as a push over by her friends and those supposedly close to her. She finds Luka living like a creature in the shadows of his pain and grief and brings him into her world to help restore his family’s legacy so he can move on from his pain- unaware she’d fall for him a second time.
Phantom!Luka
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“They all just use you, no?” The hand that slips forth to hold her chin makes her nerves quake.
Agreste had done the same just recently, before he left her and she snuck her way down to the abyss of the theatre once more.
Luka’s hand stays on her: a gentle feel that sweeps up to tuck some hair behind her ear. There’s care and adoration in his touch, in his gaze. For the briefest of moments, she wonders why she lets herself get swept up in how Agreste regards her when the phantom of the abandoned theatre is far more invested and kind to Marinette.
Luka holds and lets her feel. Adrien merely chucks under her chin like a flirt.
The realization of how the two differ from the other almost makes her wish she didn’t need the Agreste family fortune to help rebuild the shell of Couffaine Theatre.
Like the phantom he is, Luka lulls her attention so all she can think and feel is him. Her eyes never stray from any part of him.
The crisp button ups she’s brought him to replace his tattered clothes and thread-worn favorites. The suspenders that stretch up and across his chest oh so painfully right. The fitted pants and converse.
Moonlight seeps in through an uncovered window, catching on his piercings, and her knees shake.
“You’re beautiful,” she responds instead, watching a creature of pain and nightmares go rigid and half his face break into vulnerability. His laugh is hollow and shakes her to the core.
“Angel, I’m the picture of chaos and neglect. Don’t confuse me for a beautiful nightmare.” He turns his back on her, his mask seeming to glow brightly in the dark from the moon.
He fusses with music sheets she helped him uncover in a destroyed room. Fingers itch to play them and drown out the voices in his head telling him he should kiss her until she’s swaying in his arms and underneath him in his bed, reaching for him with those stars in her eyes. He forces them out with a reminder of what he looks like now. His years of hiding, shy of a decade, scarring him emotionally and physically, he’s not sure he’d ever be worthy of her.
She reaches for him this time. Small hands turning his face, drawing their eyes together. Deep sea blues meet one ocean and one cloudy sky. He doesn’t like her to see his damaged eye, he always standing half in the dark to cover that portion of his face. He’s half blind there, seeing the world through a haze in his right eye.
But he can make out her face this close. The lashes of his own wanting to flutter from her touch.
“You’re not the theatre. You’re not a creature to be hidden and locked away, to be feared. Should I be frightened of you?”
His sudden stillness is answer enough.
“I’ll bring you back to the real world. I’ll care for you like you’ve been missing since you were a teenager. I’ll help you show the people how strong you’ve been without them.”
His eyes well up, they burn and sear his skin with tears. He can’t remember the last time he cried from something other than pain and grief.
He startles out of his shock when he hears something clatter to the floor, his world slowed as he looks down to see the mask he had so carefully broken to shield half his face.
Luka thrashes against her, shouting and trying to break her grip without hurting her. He hates how comforting her touch is within that moment, how it could unravel him and expose his fears.
His calves hit the edge of his bed, Luka tumbling down with Marinette following with him, straddling his thighs. It’s just as well, isn’t it? This is what he’s been wanting to have with her- intimacy and vulnerability, the connection and trust. And now she’s trying to give it to him and he’s still stuck in his past. He’s the one that can’t look at himself beyond anything other than a monster who’s been living in secret when the world thought he was dead like his family.
The falling prop tree that hit the right side of his face during the fire had doomed him from the start. It changed the course of his whole life. He was one of the Couffaine twins that France cooed at for his beauty and talents. He and Juleka brought people to the theatre with promises of them getting to see the siblings act and perform.
But those burning branches hit along his jaw and cheek, a stray touching his eye enough to hurt his sight.
He wants Marinette. He desperately wants the angel that came to him with promises to fix his family’s theatre and restore it. He wants to believe she’ll love him and see him for the person he’s been this whole time and not the phantom that rumors say lived in the ruined building.
He wants to believe she could truly love him, enough to show the world.
Luka looks like a boy as he tries twisting his body to crawl his way out of her, but the tightening of her thighs against him wretches a cry laced with a moan out of him and renders him helpless. He doesn’t fight when she turns him onto his back once more, but he can’t meet her gaze, flinching and screwing his eyes shut when she gasps at his full face.
The scars are hidden under black smoke he has tattooed onto his face, but she can see the slight swells of raised skin, the burn parts he had scraped off to try and feel like his old self. The tattoo disappears near his hairline at his temple, black suiting black perfectly, it’s like it was all planned.
“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” He sobs, perfect teeth clenching together and baring themselves as he wills himself not to scream. Dimples she’s only seen a few times are tragic to see as tears slide and pool in the divets of his cheeks. “You’re still perfect, Luka.”
His eyes flutter open, head lolled to the side and his shirt pulling taut over his chest from the deep breaths that she can feel rattle within him. His stare is pained as he looks out at the room he’s made for himself under the stage of the theatre.
“You were never a liar, Marinette.” His voice is rough, words scratching at his throat and cries being swallowed down that he can barely breathe. “Don’t start now.”
She pulls at his hand and he tries to yank it back, hoping that she’ll see reason and realize he’ll only hold her back in life if she chooses him. He can’t be selfish. He can’t hold onto her forever. But she pins him instead and his naive heart beats wildly thinking maybe she can win in this battle. He desperately wants her to win and convince him that he can be a part of her real world.
That he doesn’t have to be a secret lurking within the shadows, masked and guarded.
Luka lets her take his hand, feels it placed above her chest and a steady beat buzz into his fingers. He looks at her, the color of his eyes making her gaze soften. A harsh swallow and he’s shifting his hand upwards, feeling her heart beat into his palm.
It’s calmer than his own, a few erratic beats here and there, but it makes his seem childishly nervous. “You’re calm.”
It’s all he can say, all his mind is letting him focus on because if he lets his thoughts stray further, it’ll send him off the deep end to realize that his angel who has been plaguing his dreams and awakening his love for music, the descendant from heaven herself who came to help him restore his family’s legacy and accepted him into her life, is on top of him.
Sea eyes staring down at him with everything he believes he doesn’t deserve, plush thighs squeezing around his hips so perfectly, a strong grip in such a small hand around his wrists.
“I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” he lies through his teeth easily. But she sees the way his jaw clenches, feels the jump of a pulse where her hand grips his wrist.
“You sometimes tease that I might be a dream, right?” He shifts his eyes to her, seeing nothing but acceptance and warmth in her own, and suddenly his face feels normal, his tainted vision doing nothing to deter him from how she looks the more he lets himself watch her. He nods slowly and his breath catches as she leans forth, hot air brushing against his ear.
“Angel…”
“Then treat me like I’m your dream.”
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