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sun-roach · 11 months

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How Cody got his name ~ a headcanon

Kote should have been able to dodge it! The cracking of his little brother’s nose rings in his head.

Fox can’t hold back his own growing anger. He grabs Kote by the collar of his blacks and raises him a little up. Hate-Anger-Pain, the air around his brother becomes thicker, heavier.

<KOTE!>

He flinches. His little brother flinches at his own name, the anger spiking up, his so caring, warm eyes fill with dread.

Fox understands now. Fox understands him so well. Kote hates his name. He resents it. The responsibility, all the expectations on his shoulders becoming too difficult to bear. He doesn’t see himself as someone glorious but rather as someone who just fulfills his duty, someone who loves and cares about his brothers and would do anything for them.

He sees himself as someone who has failed and disappointed his brothers. A perfectionist who now seeks punishment.

Fox won’t do that. He loves his brother. The vod'ika who rises like the sun, painting everything in warm golden light. Kote is his sun on Kamino. He gives hope and warmth on bad days and Fox will always be thankful for it.

He drops on his own knees and let’s go of his brother’s collar. His hand moves towards the back of Kote's head instead, pulling him closer to rest their foreheads together.

His brother seems irritated and at the same time almost furious, but he doesn’t move away from it, he just quietly boils inside.

<Breathe. It is alright. Today is a bad day. You will be alright. >

But Kote shakes his head. No word leaves his mouth, not trusting the stability of his voice. Fox smiles gently.

<Cody.>

And Cody looks up. Anger disappearing as if it was never there to begin with. Warm, brown eyes, look into his brother’s blood red ones, searching for an answer.

<Cody…>

The younger repeats quietly immediately settling in the feeling of safety, normality.

All the time he had worn the name Kote, that Prime personally had given him. At first he had prided himself in it but with time he started to see it as a burden for himself. He feels that he couldn’t keep up with it, despite everyone telling him otherwise.

<Cody. Let’s get some bacta for your nose. I will beat you up tomorrow again.>

Fox smirks at his brother who let’s his shoulders relax and chuckle. It melts Fox's heart. To see his little brother finally relax a little bit .

He shakes his head and helps him back up.

Cody.

The rising sun of Kamino, now shining brighter, warmer and even more glorious as the shackles of Kote could ever have let him.

#commander cody #commander fox #cc 1010 #cc 2224 #kote #ori'vod fox #cody and fox are competitive af #which is why they ended up sparing after cody 'failed' to beat fox's exam record #they are cute little marshmallows #headcanon

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mintaka14 · 2 years

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This is a bit of fluff inspired by this post when it crossed my path a little while ago: https://twistedthingsandchocolate.tumblr.com/post/25284438770/so-i-had-no-voice-at-work-today-and-since-i-work

It sounded like a Lukanette meet-cute to me.

Lost Voice

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

The problem with letting Alya drag her along to that club last night, Marinette decided wearily as she dusted her hands on her apron, was that it made the Saturday morning rush in her parents’ bakery even harder to deal with than it usually was. She pressed her hand to her aching throat and swallowed while her mother finished serving another customer.

Several hours in the heavy atmosphere of the club, dancing too close to the machine that belched out smoke across the dance floor, and singing along at the top of her voice had left her croaky and raw, and Marinette’s voice had been fading steadily all morning. She was reduced now to smiling silently at the customers, and scribbling notes when that wasn’t enough.

As she slid another sourdough loaf into a bag, she heard her mother saying, “What a lovely outfit.”

“The Little Mermaid is her favourite,” a customer responded in tones of equal parts fond pride and exasperation, and when Marinette turned around, she could see a sparkly plastic tiara just above the edge of the counter. The tiara rose as the little girl wearing it lifted onto her toes to see over the display case, and Marinette could make out glittery scales, and a seashell necklace.

“I think we need to find something special for a mermaid princess,” Marinette’s maman said. “What would you like, dear?”

The little girl subjected that to some serious thought, and then pointed at one of the cakes. Marinette reached for the tongs, and gave the girl a smile as she handed the bag carefully over the counter.

“What do we say, Eloise?” the girl’s mother prompted in an undertone, and the mermaid dutifully said, “Thank you!”

Marinette started to say, “You’re welcome,” but when her voice came out as a rough croak, she settled for smiling, and giving a little wave. The little girl frowned up at her.

“What happened to your voice?” the child demanded.

Marinette glanced over her shiny blue and green scaled dress, at the seashell necklace and the little plastic tiara she was wearing. She reached for the notepad in her apron pocket and printed out The Sea Witch stole my voice.

The little girl’s eyes lit up as she puzzled out the message, and then, “You’re a real mermaid?” she breathed ecstatically. “Are you going to kiss the prince so you can stay a human?”

Marinette shook her head. That, in retrospect, was where she went wrong (or very, very right, she decided much later, over a cup of lemon and honey tea).

Under the lopsided plastic tiara, the little girl was staring at her in wide-eyed dismay.

“Not at all? But where is he?” She peered around the edge of the counter as if she was expecting a prince to be hiding behind it, but when she couldn’t see one, she grabbed at Marinette’s hand while her mother was distracted with trying to fit the bread and cakes around everything else in her shopping basket.

Marinette found herself being dragged out from behind the counter, flour-covered apron and all, by a very determined child in a sparkly dress.

“Eloise!” her mother chided.

“Hurry!” Eloise demanded, ignoring her mother to tow Marinette behind her. “We have to find your true love before your voice is lost forever, and the sea witch keeps you!”

She really should have thought this through, Marinette thought wildly as the small child spun around, assessing the potential in the bakery and clearly deciding that options for true love were a little limited.

Eloise managed to push the door open.

Hampered by the shopping and the basket, her mother was too slow to stop her.

“Eloise!”

The little girl darted out onto the pavement, dragging Marinette behind her. She tried to say something, but her voice wouldn’t rise above a faint croak, and the bakery door swung shut on Eloise’s mother’s protests.

Before Marinette could do anything, Eloise dropped her hand and ducked between the throng of people hurrying past. Marinette could see her stop abruptly, reaching up to tug the suit sleeve of a man, but he hurried away, and Eloise had moved on before Marinette could get to her. The little girl darted through the handful of people waiting to cross at the lights, and Marinette followed quickly in dismay as she was swept along with them.

She’d had enough experience with babysitting to know just how fast a young child could move when they wanted to, and how slippery they could be, and her heart was in her mouth as the pedestrian light blinked and everyone surged across the crossing past the cars. It was a relief to see the glimpse of glittery blue and green scales twinkling down the path into the park opposite the bakery.

Eloise dodged between knees and briefcases and bicycles, and Marinette chased after the little girl. Somewhere behind them both, she could hear someone shouting Eloise’s name, but she couldn’t call back, and if she took her eyes off Eloise then there was a good chance that she’d lose the little girl in the busy park pathways, so she kept going.

Marinette had caught up, her face burning, by the time Eloise had accosted four complete strangers and asked them if they would be Marinette’s true love. All of them had hurried away with confused or scandalised looks.

Until Eloise came to a stop in front of the young man busking on the steps. Marinette barely had time to register what he was playing on his guitar before his hand stilled on the strings as Eloise tumbled out her story, but she had plenty of time to take in the sharp angles of his face and the soft fall of his blue dyed hair as he listened seriously to the little girl’s speech. He nodded as Eloise waved her arms dramatically, and looked up as she gestured in Marinette’s direction.

Intense blue eyes widened as they met hers, and his mouth curved up in a smile that left her feeling oddly breathless, even as her face flamed brighter.

“I hear you’ve lost your song,” he said, and his warm voice sent a thrill through her. “I might have found it. Does it sound something like this?”

Eloise bounced excitedly when the young man started playing, but Marinette was left spellbound and dumbstruck. The soft swell and ebb of the guitar sounded like everything she could feel. It sounded like he was playing her heart. She touched her fingers to her throat, and that dizzying smile of his grew a little softer above the curve of his guitar. His strong, callused fingers stroked the last chord from the strings, just as Eloise’s mother caught up with them and panted to a halt.

“Eloise, you can’t just run off like that,” she was scolding, but Marinette’s attention was still on the guitarist, who had come to his feet with his guitar still in his hands.

“I am so sorry about that,” Eloise’s mother was saying. Marinette was left trying to convey in gestures that it was fine, she didn’t mind, really. Eloise turned to give her a wave as her mother drew her away, and Marinette waved back to the little girl. She turned back to find the guitarist grinning.

“That kind of made my day,” he told her. “I’m Luka, by the way.”

“Ma-ma-“ she croaked, and coughed. “I’m Marinette,” she managed to rasp out.

“You really have lost your voice, haven’t you?”

She hunched her shoulders in embarrassment, but there was a warm sympathy behind the laughter in his eyes.

“Well, I can’t fight a sea witch to get it back for you, but I do know a place near here that does a great lemon and honey tea, if you’d be interested… Although it looks like your enthusiastic young friend there dragged you away in the middle of something.”

Marinette glanced down, and ran a self-conscious hand over her dusty apron. She tried to indicate that she had to get back, even as she found herself lingering a little longer.

“Maybe another time,” Luka said regretfully. “I’m here most weekends busking, if you ever happen to be looking for your voice again, and want some company.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. Was he asking her out?

He was idly strumming something on his guitar that sounded familiar. In her head, Marinette found herself silently singing, She don’t got a lot to say, but there’s something about her…

She pressed her fingertips to her mouth to smother the giggle, and Luka broke off as if he’d only just realised what he was playing. He gave her a sheepish smile, but there was a hint of heat in his cheeks when she tapped her throat and raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t need to hear your voice to know that I’d like a chance to hear more of your song,” he told her, and it was Marinette’s turn to blush fiery red.

Marinette couldn’t explain, later, when Alya was grilling her for the details, what got into her at that moment. Maybe it was those deep blue eyes of his and the way he was looking at her, or maybe that song he’d played had got to her. There was something about him that made all sorts of things seem possible.

She bit her lip, and then, before she could overthink it, she pulled the notepad and pencil out of her apron pocket and scribbled her phone number down.

I have to get back to work, but if you’re serious about that lemon tea you could call me sometime.

She shoved the note at him, feeling her cheeks burn hotter. Alya was going to shriek when she heard about this.

Luka’s eyes widened as he read the note. She shifted a reluctant step back towards the bakery, her eyes still on his reaction. She really did have to get back to work.

“I can’t wait,” he grinned, and if she’d thought his smile was lovely before, it left her staggering now, “Ma-ma-marinette.”

She gave him a tiny wave, and pivoted on her heel, fizzing and tingling with equal parts nervous adrenaline and excitement as she fled back to the bakery. Her phone chimed just as she ran through the door in a flurry of panting, and the handful of customers turned to stare at her as she collapsed against the counter to recover herself.

“Customers are waiting,” her mother chided gently, but Marinette took a moment to quickly check the phone message before she washed her hands, and a tiny smile crept over her as she saw Luka’s name and the message he’d sent her. Apparently, he had been very serious about that cup of tea.

By the time she’d slid a sourdough loaf into a bag for a customer, her smile was full-blown. And when she handed the bread to the elderly gentleman who was waiting for it, she beamed so brightly at him that he left the shop tottering a little.

“Marinette?” her mother asked, eyeing her daughter. “What’s gotten into you?”

Marinette just shook her head, still smiling brightly.

The next time she saw Eloise, the little girl was shuffling along behind her mother in a different, pink-sequinned, mermaid gown with a beribboned wand clutched tightly in one hand. She beamed when Marinette called out a greeting to her.

“Your voice came back!” she screeched excitedly, ignoring her mother’s plea to not shout so loud, use your inside voice. “He really was your true love!”

“True love takes a lot longer than three days,” Marinette said carefully, and the little girl rolled her eyes at her.

“I know. Maman says that true love takes years to know for sure, but your voice came back, and I found him for you.” She was bouncing on her toes with excitement. “And Maman says he’s not really a prince because there haven’t been any princes in France for a long time, but he had blue hair, so maybe he’s a boy mermaid.”

“He’s not a mermaid,” Marinette said gently, but when Eloise’s face fell, she added, “but he does live on a boat, and he plays the most beautiful music.”

“And you kissed him.”

Marinette felt her cheeks heat up with the memory of saying goodnight to Luka on the doorstep the night before, and the slow, sweet kisses before that.

“Yeah,” she admitted, and put an extra cake in the bag that she handed to the little girl, who was practically vibrating with happiness now. Marinette figured that a free cake or two was the least she owed Eloise. “I did.”

#lukanette #pro lukamari #little mermaid #meet-cute #Lost Voice #ML AU #fluffier than marshmallow

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