#i will serenade this man til the end of time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

perch-the-cat · 6 months ago

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Bowigi CrackFic

Alright, this is a fan fic @mayketz and I made. This is a Bowigi story (I don't ship Luigi and Bowser but this fan fic is too beautiful to pass down). This story might not be suitable for sensitive people but who cares. Bro If yall want to draw art for some of it reblog your pics! Alright, now that's over with, on with the story,

Sexy Confessions

“You may now, kiss the bride,” The preacher said.

They looked into each other’s glistening eyes. Luigi and Daisy felt bliss and peace while they leaned in.

“WAIT!”

Everyone turned to face where the noise had come from. Bowser and the Koopalings stood there, Bowser in a fancy white suit with a handsome matching tophat. Luigi and Daisy were confused, and before anyone could do anything, The Best Man pulled out a Tanooki Leaf powerup, ready to use it to protect his brother if he had to. Before he could use it, Luigi stopped him.

“Mario, hold on a second.”

“What do you want Bowser? You’re Rizzing me up days are over, I don’t love you anymore,” Luigi shouted with anger, fear hinting itself on his face.

“You’re coming with me!” Bowser shouted back.

Luigi felt a small scaly hand with sharp claws grab him from behind. Then the world went dark, and the last thing he saw was Bowser’s lips ushering him to sleep.

………………………………………………….

When he woke up, he was in a dimly lit room, he saw Bowser on a stage, with a piano. The first thing he felt the urge to say was,

“Why does this room have such shitty lighting?”

“Hey! It’s mood lighting!” Bowser protested back.

“I couldn't let myself see you get married to that bitch, I love you too much for that. My Koopalings need a good Queen.”

Luigi glared back at him, “If you really love me, prove it.”

Bowser then looked at his piano and started playing a serenading tune.

“This one is for my one and only true love

Luigi

Luigi, you're so cool

And with my balls, we're gonna rule

Luigi, understand

I'm gonna fuck you 'til the very end

Luigi, Luigi, Luigi, Luigi, Luigi

I love you, oh

Luigi, Luigi, Luigi, Luigi, Luigi

I love you, oh

Mario, Daisy, and a Donkey Kong too

A thousand troops of Bitches couldn't keep me from you

Luigi, at the end of the line

I'll make you mine, oh

Luigi, Luigi, Luigi, Luigi, Luigi

I love you, oh

Luigi, Luigi, Luigi, LUIGI!!!!!!!!”

By the time Bowser was done, Luigi had happy tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I love you too Bowsie,” He chuckled out.

They slowly walked toward each other, they both knew what they were about to do with each other. They placed their arms around each other, Bowser’s on Luigi's shoulders and Luigi’s wrapped around Bowser’s waist. They swayed a bit before they slowly leaned into each other. Their soft and scaly lips pressed together, as they made love. They swayed this way and that, tongues touching each other, it was like they were trapped in a sexy dance that seemed it could never be broken. As they finally left each other’s face they looked into each other’s eyes and started dancing.

“I ache for the touch of your lips, dear

But much more for the touch of your whips, dear

You can raise welts

Like nobody else

As we dance to the Masochism Tango”

They swayed this way and that, singing to each other with passion.

“Let our love be a flame, not an ember

Say it's me that you want to dismember

Blacken my eye

Set fire to my tie

As we dance to the Masochism Tango

At your command

Before you here I stand

My heart is in my hand

(Yeechh!)

It's here that I must be

My heart entreats

Just hear those savage beats

And go put on your cleats

And come and trample me

Your heart is hard as stone or mahogany

That's why I'm in such exquisite agony

My soul is on fire

It's aflame with desire

Which is why I perspire when we tango

You caught my nose

In your left castanet, love

I can feel the pain yet, love

Every time I hear drums

And I envy the rose

That you held in your teeth, love

With the thorns underneath, love”

Sticking into your gums

Your eyes cast a spell that bewitches

The last time I needed twenty stitches

To sew up the gash

That you made with your lash

As we danced to the Masochism Tango

Bash in my brain

And make me scream with pain

Then kick me once again

And say we'll never part

I know too well

I'm underneath your spell

So, darling, if you smell

Something burning, it's my heart

'Scuse me!

Take your cigarette from its holder

And burn your initials in my shoulder

Fracture my spine

And swear that you're mine

As we dance to the Masochism Tango”

With that final line, they kissed once more.

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inkymoon16 · 10 months ago

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Chapter 2 - Dusk

Chapter 2 of my fic "Dusk Til Dawn" which can be found on AO3!

Native New Yorker - Odyssey

It was an ordinary day. Nothing out of the unusual. I woke up on time, which I always did, drank my tea, ate my toast, applied my makeup, threw my work uniform on, and was out the door in about forty-five minutes. I lugged my tote bag over my shoulder, which kept slipping off my coat - a ridiculously expensive purchase I had bought one night during a cocaine bender. I quit drugs the next day when I woke up to a fur coat perched on the edge of my bed, a half naked man snoring beside me, and a cat I had never seen before meowing at my door.

This fur coat was a natural tan color and had cost me a hundred and fifty dollars, of which I certainly could not afford. I walked the four blocks to the diner where I worked, a cigarette perched between my fingers. My work uniform was simple - skin color stockings, and a stupid powder blue collared dress that came to my mid-thighs. I guess the owner wanted the “pretty girls to attract customers” but the only thing it attracted was unwanted comments.

“Mornin’ Arthur.” I hollered when I sauntered through the door into the mercifully warm diner.

My manager appeared from the back, carrying boxes from a new shipment, a cigarette hanging from his lips. “Mornin’ Aurora. You can start by sortin’ silverware and filling up those damn ketchup bottles. Closers neglected yet again.”

I rolled my eyes and huffed. The closers could never do anything fucking right. I worked mornings during the week and Friday and Saturday nights. Sunday was my only day off. I put a few quarters into the jukebox and soon David Bowie was serenading me as I rolled silverware into their respective paper napkins.

As customers started to trickle in this Thursday morning, I abandoned my side work to serve them. The day passed as normal. I got off shift around 5:15 and after a hamburger, I slipped on my fur coat and headed back towards my apartment. These four blocks were often filled with annoying teenagers shouting things out at me.

Complaints aside, I actually didn’t mind the walk. I relished the crisp air in the colder months and the soft breeze in the warmer months. This walk was a time for thinking. I zoned out and allowed any thoughts in my head to turn over and salivate. It usually took me approximately one cigarette to get home. Sometimes two if it was the summer and I was in a good mood.

Greenpoint, Brooklyn, of which I called home, was nice enough. I thought back to the expensive brownstone that my aunt, whom I used to live with, owned in Williamsburg. She kicked me out when I was nineteen after she found me passed out in the bathtub the morning after a bender. I ashed my cigarette and walked up my steps to a brownstone that had been split into four different apartments. The flight of stairs up to my second floor residence was always littered with cigarette butts but at least it was safe.

Once I took off my coat, I brewed a pot of tea. My aunt always had the most disgusting coffee brewing so I never got into that harsh black liquid. I shuddered just thinking about it. I wondered how she was doing. After I moved out, we called each other every now and then for a few months but that slowly trickled to nothing. It’s been two years since I talked to her.

Our relationship was never that close and that was fine with the both of us. We were more like roommates than relatives. She had her life, I had mine. The only rule we had was to keep the noise down. I moved in with my aunt at ten years old when my mother was murdered. My father was so distraught over her death he fled the country and started a new life for himself. I never really cared too much to contact him.

Only once when I was 17 did I try to find him but it led to too many dead ends. And that was the end of my curiosity. I found out during this research that my mother was shot during a gang fight when she got caught in the misfire. Sometimes I had nightmares about her mangled body on the street, cold and lifeless. The funeral was stuffy and quiet. I don’t recall much else.

I attended a public school in Brooklyn that I can’t quite recall. Could have been PS 144 or PS 81. I can’t say I learned too much. I had my first job waitressing at 16 and subsequently stopped caring about school. However, my aunt disagreed with this belief. She held education to a high regard and wouldn’t let me drop out. The only time she showed real parenting. I walked across the graduation stage alone and came home to my aunt who was two bottles of wine deep, passed out on the couch watching “Jeopardy” alone.

We were both addicts and I guess that’s why we didn’t work out as “roommates”. Our front door was a revolving portal for men, booze, and bad decisions. I guess that’s where all my bad influence comes from, but I probably would have ended up the same way either way.

I sipped my tea and stuffed my hand into a bag of chips. My apartment was small, more like a studio if anything. If you opened the door too fast, it would swing right into the kitchen, which then banged loudly against the counters, a clear design flaw. The kitchen was on the right, a living room/dining room straight ahead. A bedroom with an attached bathroom was on the left.

All of my furniture and decorations I had bought second hand or taken for free off the street. I saved my money for things I actually cared about, like clothes, coats, shoes, makeup, and handbags. All the second hand stuff made the apartment eclectic and cozy. There was a large window that faced the west, so the setting sun would bring golden light and warmth in the afternoon. My brown tabby cat, whom I had named Stella, was currently in her small bed, sleeping next to the radiator.

I went to the bathroom to take off my makeup, a sweet relief which could only be closely followed by taking off the entrapments of a bra. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and couldn’t help but to pick at my skin imperfections. Squeezing pimples was a nasty habit that I developed during my early tween years and found that I could never drop it.

My green eyes looked back at me. My lips and my eyes were always my favorite features of my face. I loved decorating my face with makeup. I always just got the cheap shit from the drugstore. Once a year I would splurge on a fancy perfume, usually around Christmas or my birthday.

I ran a brush through my ginger hair which was slightly wavy, but not curly. I had bleached it once at sixteen but had let it fade since. I was debating cutting bangs now. I went back to the living area and grabbed a pack of Parliaments.

I stepped out onto the fire escape, lighting a cigarette. I rubbed my shoulders, forgetting the chill. The city ambience washed over my body while I inhaled the nicotine. I had dreams once of being a journalist, imagining myself chasing down stories and criminals. That was quickly buried by the time I turned fifteen. I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life.

I flicked my cigarette off the balcony and stepped back through the window. I grabbed a knit blanket and wrapped it around my shoulders. I grabbed a beer out of the fridge, put a record on, and sat behind my typewriter. Even though my dreams of being a journalist disappeared, my love for writing never did. When I felt as though I was lost in life, aimless and depressed, I turned to writing. This meant I had dozens of unfinished stories scattered throughout the apartment.

Most nights I would open a beer and sit in front of the television, watching whatever was on. Sleep would lull my eyes shut after a while and I would stumble to my bed, slip my pajamas on and flop onto my queen size bed which miraculously I had found on the side of the street. I had snatched it up, lugging it all the way home, cursing and crying under its tremendous weight. I saved up to buy a bed frame second hand for it. I did a thorough inspection of the mattress but two years later and I haven’t gotten bugs or itches from it. Being broke makes a person desperate.

Once my beer reached the bottom of the bottle and my paper ran out of room on the typewriter, I decided to call it a night. I took a hot shower, and got into bed. After a few minutes I felt Stella jump up, meowing her presence to me.

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 3 years ago

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Take Me Home Tonight

Summary: Warren accidentally confesses to you and is forced to realize that he’s been in love with you for a while now. This is Evan’s warren lipka I just wanted to specify

Word Count: 2928

Warnings: None this is pure fluff, Warren being his usual goofy and incredibly hot self

You were having the time of your life right now, nothing was funnier than drunk Warren Lipka. He was the definition of a hot mess, one second he was grinding on some random lady on the dance floor and the next second he was passed out on the toilet, pants down and Spencer had to go and get him. You always volunteered to be their designated driver when they went out, you loved getting to see Warren like this. And because you would never get drunk in front of Warren, you knew you were a bold drunk and whatever you did he would never let you forget it.

You scanned the room trying to make sure you had eyes on them. Spencer was snoring with his head down surrounded by empty bottles and various wrappers, he was sitting at a table towards the center of the bar and Warren was near the front of the bar. He was currently fighting with some woman over the karaoke machine. Warren wrestled the microphone from her and her friends cussed him out before he flipped them off. He took the makeshift stage stumbling on the last step.

He squinted his eyes till he found you, you gave him a wave, water still in hand. He gave you a lopsided smile before pointing in your direction, pushing his hair back. “This one goes out to my girlfriend!” The crowd wolf whistled as they turned to face in your direction. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not his girlfriend!” You shouted back with a laugh.

“Yea but I wish you were!” He shouted back.

“Wait what.” You felt your eyes bulge out of your head and turn to look at Spencer, he had the same shocked look on his face. You looked at him for an explanation and he just shrugged his shoulders, as clueless as you were. Warren whispered something to the guy running the machine and a second later Eddie Money started blaring out of the speakers, drowning out your attempts to call him off the stage.

Warren bopped his head to the music, jerking his hips out, still pointing in your direction. “I feel a hunger, it’s a hunger, That tries to keep a man awake at night!” He began to sing and it was awful. He was basically screaming and his voice was raspy from all the alcohol. But he put up so much of a performance into the way he sang the audience didn't seem to care. He held eye contact with you slowly moving off the stage and towards you.

The spotlight followed his movements, the light creeping closer to your secluded corner of darkness. “Are you the answer?” Your heart pounded at the implication of his words and the way his eyes seemed alert. He continued singing until he was directly in front of you. He threw the cord around you and used it to pull you close, you stumbled into him catching yourself on his chest. He leaned forward, his close proximity making the hair on your arms stand up, he lowered his voice as he nudged the side of his head into yours. “I can feel you breathe, I can feel your heart beat faster…”

He watched you with half lidded eyes, moving closer, his lips nearly brushing against yours, but before you could make contact he pulled away from you nearly causing you to trip over the cord as he yanked it back towards him. He danced back towards the center of the bar and jumped up on the table where Spencer was at. He threw his head back and screamed out the lyrics “TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT! I DON’T WANNA LET YOU GO ‘TIL YA SEE THE LIGHT!”

He waved his arm in the air, signaling the crowd to sing along with him. He nudged Spencer with his foot and he began to sing along with the rest of the bar patrons. They were all drunkenly sighing along with Warren, their gazes locked on you. He moved his arms around madly jumping up and down on the table, going absolutely crazy. You laughed watching him thrust his hips forward, matching the beat of the song. He pulled Spencer on the table with him and they both began to drunkenly sing to you, your face hurt from smiling so widely. You took out your phone and began to record their little song and dance. You also took a picture of drunk Warren pointing at you and screaming be my little baby. He had nearly slipped off the table while doing it, so it was all blurry and his eyes were wild. You made a mental note to make it your lockscreen later.

He started up at the chorus again, this time him and Spencer belting it accompanied by the other customers. “TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT!” Warren jumped a little too close to the edge of the table and launched him and Spencer on the floor, knocking over the neighboring tables. You were doubled over in laughter, Warren hadn’t even stopped singing he just carried on as he laid on top of Spencer on the floor.

The security guard walked over to the two of them and picked them up by their shirt collars. He tried taking the microphone from Warren but he just held it closer still signing into it, even though the music had stopped. The security guard looked at you and called you over. “Come get your boyfriend!”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“BUT HE WISHES HE WAS!” The bar patrons chanted together, remembering what Warren had shouted to you earlier. Your face burned in embarrassment as you want to collect them. Ripping the microphone from Warren’s hands as he whined and handed it to the security guard. The crowd cheered Warren on as you guys were escorted out, he bowed and blew kisses to the crowd. You had to drag him by his arm all the way to the car, Spencer just walked alongside you guys smiling to himself.

You shoved Warren into the passenger's seat and he groaned as he hit his head on the roof going in. Spencer laughed at him. “Shut up!” Warren called reaching into the back seat.

“Stop that!” You said, pulling him back into the front seat. You buckeld yourself in before starting up the car. “I can’t believe you got us kicked out of my favorite bar.” You scolded. You weren't really all that mad about being kicked out, you were more upset about the way Warren had said he wished you were his girlfriend. You knew that when Warren was drunk he would say and do just about anything so you learned not to take him seriously. But you had been crushing on him for years now and for a second you had felt a flicker of hope that he returned your affection.

Warren just pouted with his arms crossed for a moment before playing with your radio flicking through the channels. He smiled when he heard the song he was singing earlier again. “Oh no not again.” You said reaching over to turn the radio off, he smacked your hand away and kept his own covering the buttons.

“Warren.” You warned, glancing over to glare at him. He just smirked and started singing again.

“Come on (y/n) sing with me!”

“No.”

“I feel a hunger….” He leaned across to the seat getting really close to whisper in your ear. “Come on, you know you wanna sing with me. You know you wanna take me home tonight.” He slurred. You pushed him back into his seat laughing at his poor attempt at flirting. But it got you to play along.

“Oh yeah, I’ll take you home tonight.” You said in an over seductive voice, reaching over to run your hand up and down his thigh.

“Really?” He asked, biting his bottom lip.

‘Yeah I’m gonna take both your asses home and make sure you stay there.” You pushed your hand into his chest knocking him back into his seat.

He groaned, lulling his head to the side knocking it against the window with a soft bonk. “You’re no fun.”

You winked at him. “I know.” You softly hummed the tune to yourself the rest of the ride home and Warrens smiled to himself at watching you.

You dropped them both off at Warren’s place, he said his dad wasn't home so Spencer could crash there. Warren had nearly fallen down the stairs into the basement, but you caught him and propped him up. He blushed as you gently helped him lay down in bed and removed his shoes. You laid him down and he grabbed your hand as you moved to leave. “What, no goodnight kiss?” You rolled your eyes and moved back towards him. He closed his eyes and puckered his lips, you made him lay back down and settled for a kiss on his forehead.

“Goodnight Warren.” He was glad the lights were off so you couldn't see how red his face had gotten from your simple kiss. He hadn't expected you to do anything at all.

“‘Night.”

Warren woke up in the middle of the night, needing to pee. As he was washing his hands he was hit with a full memory of what had happened last night. He stumbled out of his room and made his way to Spencer who was passed out on the couch. “Dude.” He shook him. “Dude wake up!”

Spencer jolted awake. “What do you want Warren?”

“Did I do what I think I did last night?” Warren said slowly, his brows furrowed.

“If you’re asking if you indirectly confessed to (y/n) by serenading her with an Eddie Money song and then asking her to take you home tonight about a million times then yes.” Spencer curled back into himself hugging the blanket closer. He was always thankful when you made a bed for him. You always remember to give him a blanket and a pillow. Warren always forgot and he ended up having to use a newspaper or a couch cushion to keep warm. He turned back, opening one eye. “She also kissed you goodnight and left you a care package.”

“I’m sorry she kissed me?” Warren said, yanking Spencer's blanket away.

“Yes.” Spencer said bordely, blindly fumbling for his blanket. “On the forehead idiot, you asked her for a kiss and that’s all she gave you.”

“But she kissed me?”

“Yes. Now give me my blanket back.”

“One more thing.”

“What?” Spencer groaned, trying to get his blanket back. Warren kept holding it out of his reach.

“You said she left me a care package.”

“Yea, on the table.” Warren dropped the blanket back on Spencer and practically sprinted over to the table. “ But she left a gatorade for me too so don’t drink them both!” Spencer added before going back to sleep. There was a little wooden tray with a gatorade, an aspirin bottle and a whole bunch of little tricks to help with a hangover. He smiled at your sweet sentiment and downed some of the pills hoping they would ease his pounding head. He held the little care package in his hands, smiling at it unconsciously. You were always so thoughtful, you always took care of his dumbass and got him out of whatever trouble he managed to get into. You were always there for him when he needed you. He had always had lingering feelings for you but he’d brush it off as a crush, Warren Lipka didn't have “deep feelings.”

But the longer he looked at the care package you left him and as he reflected on the events of last night he couldn't deny it any longer. “Shit.” He mumbled running a hand down his face. Spencer had turned to look at him. “I’m in love with her.”

“You're just now realizing this.” Warren tossed a pillow at him and Spencer batted it away. “So what are you going to do?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“I’m just gonna hold all my feelings in until I die.”

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

Spencer sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He yawned out his reply. “Just tell her you liked her like a normal person.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“What if…” Spencer sensed the change of tone in Warren’s voice and he now had his full attention. “What if she doesn't like me back. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Spencer bit his lip, debating on telling Warren what you had told him. Warren noticed Spencer's suspicious behavior and his eyes narrowed. “You know something.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do.” Warren plopped onto the couch beside Spencer. “Tell me.”

“I’m not really supposed to-”

“Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Tell-”

“Okay!” Spencer huffed. Spencer looked around as if making sure you weren't there to overhear him. “She told me that she likes you.”

“WHAT?”

“Don’t yell, I still have a hangover.” Spencer groaned, pressing his fingers to his temple. He got you to take some aspirin, Warren followed.

“She likes me, since when??” Spencer bit his lip. Warren yanked his gatorade away. “How long has she liked me spencer?””

“Since high school.”

“WHAT?”

“Dude.” Spencer yanked his gatorade back. “I told you to stop yelling.”

“You knew that she liked me since high school and you never told me.”

“She made me promise not to tell.”

Warren glared at him. He wanted to be mad but the knowledge of you liking him outweighed his anger. “And you’re sure she still likes me?’

“Yeah.”

“Positive? This ain't something I can't take a risk on. I need to be one million percent sure.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Seriously?” Spencer signed. Warren glared at him and he rolled his eyes. “Yes I’m sure she still likes you.”

Warren went up the stairs of the basement taking two at a time and yanking the door open. “Where are you going?” Spencer called up.

“To go see her.”

“But you don’t have a car. And it’s the middle of the night.”

“I don’t care and I don’t need one.” Warren slammed the door shut on his way out. Spencer winced and went to lay back down. “That idiot is going to run there.” He grumbled.

You woke up to hear pounding on your door. You were still in bed and your roommate went to answer the door. She took one look out before slamming it shut. “Who is it?” You asked.

“Your hot friend.”

You got up and opened it, Warren was on the other side, bent over and breathing really hard. “Warren?”

“Hey.” He wheezed out.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhmm.”

“You know it’s like 4 in the morning right?”

“Mhmm.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re really sweaty and you sound like you’re dying.”

“I’m good just give me a minute.”

“Do you wanna come in?” Warren glanced behind you and saw your roommate leaning back in her chair, trying to see what was going on.

“Nah. I-'' He took a deep breath before starting again. “I kinda want us to be alone for this.”

You closed the door behind you and leaned against it waiting for him to continue. Warren stood back up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face. He was all disheveled, still dressed in his clothes from last night. But his shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his chest to you, you did you best not to look. “So.” He started off, looking down at the floor.

“So…”

“About last night.” Warren fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “I meant what I said.” He looked up to see your reaction, you were watching him with wide eyes silently asking him to continue. “I really like you, like a lot. And I have for a while now but I was too scared to admit it. I didn’t want to risk ruining our friendship.”

Your heart was beating out of your chest, you were pretty sure the whole dorm could hear it. “You… you like me?”

“Yeah.” Warren rubbed the nape of his neck, his brown eyes staring into your own, waiting to see your answer.

You smiled and glanced down at the floor. “I like you too.”

“Really?” His voice was hopeful, the edges of his lips curling into a smirk.

“Yeah.” You guys stared at each other like idiots with wide smiles on your faces.

“So…” Warren started again this time a little more brave. ‘Would you maybe like to go out sometime?”

“I would love to.”

Warren pumped his first in the air. “Yes!” You laughed and went to open the door to your dorm. “As much as I love confessing to you in the hallway it’s the middle of the night. You should probably get back to bed.” He nodded. “So I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, I’ll call you later to set up our date.”

“Okay!”

You began to close the door before Warren rushed forward, he put his hands on the door frame, stopping you from closing it. “Wait! Can you uh, can you drive me home. I don't think I would survive running all the way back.”

“Sure.” you giggled, grabbing your keys and locking the door behind you. Warren smirked at you as you guys made our way down the hall.

“So what you’re saying is you’ll take me home tonight.” He sang the last part, winking at you. You pushed his shoulder.

“Don’t make me regret saying yes to going out with you.”

Taglist: @xxspqcebunsxx @coffeeandteaintheevening @kitwalkerangel @xmaximoffic @no-mercy-bby @evanmybeloved @livingmybestfictionallife

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katsukikitten · 4 years ago

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WARNING 18+ BIRB NOT BIRB SMUT! Band AU, harem collab. In which reader meets her favorite faceless singer. Little over 3k

Sweat trickles down your spine as your favorite song is blasted from the large speakers. Fog from the stage lingers just above your head as you feel as if you were in a dream. The setting is surreal especially since you actually managed to WIN those rare radio tickets to see a band in concert. And not just any band, your favorite fucking bad.

TOKYO MOB

The band consisted of four people, Bakugou Katsuki, the drummer who was angrier than any person you'd ever seen wearing nothing but skinny black jeans and a perpetual frown. Jiro, so cool and sleek in anything she wore as she tore up her guitar as side vocals. Then there was Denki, funny, cute even, on the bass with his electric blonde hair and killer smile. Lastly there was "Dark Shadow", the lead vocalist.

No one knew his real name or what he looked like, he chose to wear a headpiece in the shape of a raven or crow. You loved him, even without knowing his face.

He was so fit, strong arms and deadly abs that could be seen from beneath his cut off band tee crop top, much like you were wearing now. His voice was soothing as a bird's song, whether he was screaming or singing. The sound so uniquely beautiful it brought tears to your eyes the first time you heard it. And standing here with nothing but a small barricade and stage separating the two of you was a dream made in heaven.

He sings your favorite song, looking out into the crowd, body drenched in sweat from the high energy show as he jumps to the beat. He pauses to hit a long note and while the guitar riffs he looks into the VIP section. You swear you feel as if he is looking dead at you. The next few lyrics are packed full with emotion as he gets onto his knee, one hand holding the microphone while the other gently floats towards outstretched hands.

"I've been looking for youuuu, I just need to find youuuuu and when I do, when I do I'll dress you in my band teee and make youuuu~"

But it's yours that his fingers brush, intertwining his fingers with yours as tears prick your eyes.

"Mine. Forever miiinee~"

The world stops, his silky voice smoothing over your skin before it erupts in goose flesh, he holds on to your hand as he sings the chorus again. The screaming people around you fade away as you hear nothing but his sultry voice.

As if he were serenading you in the kitchen of your home.

"I've been looking for youuuu, I just need to find youuuuu and when I do, when I do I'll dress you in my band teee and make youuuu~"

"Mine. Forever miiinee~"

He squeezes your hand as he finishes the note, releasing your hand slowly before starting to stand. The music begins to fade as he huffs, trying to catch his breath before looking over the band. He sees that ever might need just a second more to take in some water so he brings the mic close to his face as he shouts.

"Are we having a good time tonight?!"

The crowd erupts into a scream, so loud you can barely hear the one tearing up your throat.

"I can't fucking hear you, extras!" Bakugou shouts into his own mic. The sold out stadium shakes rivaling the bass of the sound system as they all play off random notes and beats. When the deafening roar becomes a hushed, dull roar Bakugou sets the beat, Jiro and Denki join in as their most popular song begins to bump through the speakers. The song sets a heavy, hype beat that can get anyone to bang their head to. You start along with them, booze lighting up your system and causing you to ignore the charged air around you

Some of the bystanders, some of the women especially were jealous of the fact that you were holding hands with none other than the DARK SHADOW.

"Stupid bitch." They murmur amongst themselves, "Let's really fuck her up."

One says before shoving her unsuspecting and overly excitable boyfriend into another guy while shouting.

"MOSH PIT!" The crowd follows suit, putting you in the thick of it. Normally you could handle a little mosh, staying on the fringes to avoid too much damage but being in the center was beginning to spell trouble. The world spun as body after body began to slam into you, turning you this way and that before someone begins to take advantage of the situation. A sleazy guy you had hoped to avoid "falls" into you, rough palms grabbing a handful of your ass, beneath your skirt. A yelp lost to the crowd leaves your lips, tears burning in your eyes as this man set out to ruin what was possibly the highlight of your life.

He was going to ruin it with his disgusting cigarette breath, lips sloppily kissing at your throat as he moved the two of you closer to the barricade. His fingers dig into your ass, spreading your cheeks as he shouts into your ear.

"These fishnets for me slut?" He slurs, chuckling as he presses your back into the cool biting metal, "Love the crop top baby, do you got a bra on underneath?"

A sob threatens to rack through your body as your elated high quickly turns into stomach churning nausea. Desperately you look up to the stage, anything to distract you from the fingers that try to venture between your thighs, while the other rips at your favorite top.

Tokoyami jumps, stopping to adjust his feet for steady ground to do the screaming part of the song, he glances down into the crowd, silently looking for you. The woman who made his heart flutter for the first time in years and when he sees your face tilted up towards him with fear and pain twisting your features he loses his cool.

"Fucking stop!" He shouts, the lyrics gone for now as the music abruptly stops, the man holding you startles as the light follows Dark Shadow's accusing finger. He is illuminated by the stage light as bystanders rip him from you, he punches one guy and makes a run for it.

"Aye yo security. Get this asshole!" Dark Shadow shouts, leaning down for your now outstretched arms. Pulling you on stage with ease as his fingers flutter over your shoulders and sides for injuries.

"You okay my sparrow?" He coos softly and you nod, and he guides you towards the back of the stage, leaving the two front members to appease the excited crowd. He presses a cold water bottle to your hand before pulling up a chair a few feet from the drum kit.

"Stay by Bakugou okay? He'll take care of you." He wipes some sweat from your face before squeezing the nape of your neck. Bakugou glares your way with mixed emotions before doing his show starting beat to get the crowd jumping.

"Anyone else wanna act like a fucking douche?" Denki asks, walking up and down the front of the stage waiting for Tokoyami to return to the forefront.

"NOOOOO!" The crowd shouts, Denki offers a cheeky smile before adding.

"That's my good fans!" He blows a kiss to the crowd and the screams fly up an octave.

"Alright let's start this shit from the top!" Jiro shouts, letting out some hypnotic notes before looking towards Tokoyami.

"Actually, let's give them a sample of the new album. Let's give them a tease. Do you wanna be teased?" He asks the crowd aiming the mic towards them as if he needed to.

"SHOW US! TEASE US!" The crowd chants before Tokoyami looks towards his band members.

"I dunno do they deserve it?" Bakugou prodes and the audience lets out a dejected whine.

"Promise to behave?" Jiro teases and the crowd collectively screams out desperately "YES!"

"Well keep your hands to yourself and listen up cause you're only gonna hear it this once til it drops!" Tokoyami shouts before Jiro starts playing that hypnotic sound, shortly after Denki joins in. Bakugou twisting his drumstick as he waits for his cue impatiently. Dark Shadow takes in a deep breath before singing the haunting first lines of their new song.

"What do you do, when it's stalking after yoouuu? What do you say when it's just a breath awaaay~? Coming closer and you can't seem to get awaaaaay?"

"Always watching, always loooomming-"

Bakugou slams his sticks down hard onto the kit, foot tapping the bass drum at an alarming speed as everything seems to be hitting a climax.

"WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN ITS COMING FROM INSIDE OF YOU? WHAT DO YOU SAY WHEN IT SHARES YOUR NAAAAME?

WHEN YOU CAN'T HIDE THE DEMON THAT'S LURKING INSIDE!"

The last line he screams and the crowd is overcome with emotion. The height of the music and the new song that the band pours their hearts into, sends the crowd into a frenzy. Sweat dripping from everyone as their black shirts dampen around their collars.

The song the crowd wanted to last forever comes to an end and you find yourself standing to scream, tears in your eyes.

"That was amazing!" Curling your fingers into a fist, Dark Shadow turns back to see you, out of the millions of people there tonight, in that moment he could only hear you.

"Well I think we gave them a good show huh?" Denki asks into the mic, Bakugou drums a heavy beat as he shouts.

"FUCK YEA WE DID!"

"HAVE A GOOD NIGHT!!" The band members shout in unison before waving and slowly backing off stage. Tokoyami rushes towards you, hand slipping around your natural waist as he guides you into the darkened stage towards his dressing room. Your heart is racing in your ears as the silence becomes deafening. Being this close to Dark Shadow you couldn't help but notice the little cushion that keeps his helmet from damaging his throat and the intoxicating smell that rolls off of him like a cool breeze. He smells like cedar and pine at twilight while the wind brings with it the threat of snow.

You shiver despite the warmth of his touch. Swallowing the lump in your throat you force your tongue to cooperate as he steps in front of his door politely opening it for you. His small silver chains clink from the motion.

"You must be tired, are you sure you want...company?" If you could see his face you imagined he'd be smiling. Pressing his hand at the small of your back to urge you inside.

"I'm sure." He walks in, waiting for you to follow before he slumps onto a worn leather arm chair. Your platform converse move on their own as you cross the threshold of the room, closing the door behind you.

"Lock it, would you sparrow?" All you can do is nod as you turn the lock until you hear a soft click. He gestures for you to sit on the couch beside him before his broad hands go towards his helmet.

The blood rushes from your face as a moment of honor and horror wage war in your gut, pulling your heart down towards your feet.

"Wait!" You shout, startling both of you and you feel heat rise into your cheeks and throat, "I don't want you to feel obligated to take it off. We can just...talk."

Nervously you fidget with the hem of your skirt, thinking he was going to kick you out for being so lame.

Boring.

He stands and you flinch before he sits beside you on the love seat. If you could see his eyes you wondered if they were sparkling. His winter woods smell tickles your nose and you smile.

"I'd love to just talk. But first." He must notice your ripped shirt as he stands again. Rummaging through his suitcase to find the first edition band tee ever made for TOKYO MOB.

"I couldn't!" You half shout and then squeak, "I shouldn't"

"I insist." He says softly placing it on your lap before giving you his toned back. The cropped tee he wears shows off the dimples in his lower back that has you thinking of what it would look like while those hips piston into you. Quickly you toss your ripped shirt aside and slip his over your head, relishing the present smell, heart stirring.

"It's safe." You say softly and he turns around taking the seat beside you again.

After a small awkward silence the two of you begin to talk, the conversation coming easy as you gushed over his voice and where you went to college when he asked. Him wanting to know more about your life and the night ended up being about you instead of him for once and it was nice.

Nice to not have someone prying or clawing at his neck to find out just who he was and what he looked like, suddenly heat rushes to his pants. His hand comes to rest on your knee just below the hem of your skirt, ringed fingers sliding beneath the black fabric. You swallow, looking into the face of the bird mask and softly speak.

"How- how would we kiss?" It feels stupid, embarrassing that you would even think that. He kills the light by the love seat flooding the room in total darkness before he takes off his helmet with a clatter.

"Like this." His lips are by your ear now sending ecstacy through your body in the form of a spine tingling shudder. He kisses at your lobe working his way down your throat and then up to your jaw, avoiding your lips as he tastes every inch of you he can. His damp hair tickles your nose as he moves you to him, hovering over you as he kisses the plane of your stomach beneath his lifted shirt.

"You look damn good in my shirt baby." He trails his tongue up your sternum causing you to moan, he smirks against the bone before sucking at the supple skin of your breast. Choosing them for his canvas to paint in blacks and blues that you would soon come to wish would last a life time. His free hand twists your nipple, pulling it as he scrapes his teeth against your other. Tongue flicking against the sensitive nub another moan escapes your lips as he plays with you for what feels like hours. He doesn't even go to touch your aching cunt until you're covered in a sheen of sweat. Begging for his hands to move lower as your vision spots in the dark from his sensual touch alone. Your own hands explore up his defined abs and torso occasionally catching the cool metal of his chains, this time you decide to pull him into a kiss. Your lips touching his for the first time all night and you feel like a live wire. Hungrily and aggressively trying to devour him as you feel music dancing through your blood, humming in your bones, he groans amplifying the feeling as his clothed hard on presses into your core. His tongue swipes over yours and the thought of not even knowing what he looks like arches your back into his touch.

Finally he flips your skirt up, his fingers venturing between your thighs and when he finds no fabric and the satisfying sound of your slick he bucks his hips, biting at your breasts.

"So wet sparrow…." His voice is soft breath and a little desperate causing your cunt to clench. He circles your clit until you're crying, his fingers occasionally checking for a stream of tears. When he feels the droplets on your face he chuckles shoving his fingers knuckle deep going agonizingly slow until you're fluttering around his thick curled digits. You cum hard and he whispers praises in your ear, several times as your body shakes and you think you won't be able to make it through the night.

"Ready for my cock babe?" He asks gently swiping his thumb over your swollen and heavily abused clit. You perk right up, ready for the finale silently thanking the gods for a band members stamina. You notice him shaking as he leans down for a kiss, his stomach sweaty and sticking to yours. You fist his hair, pulling him back just a bit.

"You'll be okay?" You can just make out the gleam of his teeth from his smirk before his voice comes out as pure sinful husk.

"The question is, will you sweet sparrow?"

Too stunned to answer he swallows your silence with a kiss before he sheaths himself inside you. Relishing the moan in his mouth and the fluttering of your velvet walls as they adjust to him. You were so wet, so ready for him as he slowly rocked his hips. Your half wish from earlier coming true as your hands fly to the dimples of his lower back, trying to urge him to quicken his pace but he keeps it languid, deadly. Each stroke hitting with purpose. The head of his cock hitting that cushy spot as his pelvis snapped against your clit. The sensation sends you into a never ending moan. Each gasp his stage name as he marks you as his, nails raking down your arms as he praises.

"Such a nice pussy you have. Taking me so fucking well." He lingers by your ear, his tone the opposite of his lustful words. Your own nails claw down his back in viscous lines as he keeps you on the edge. The coil, steady and tight as you feel the pressure in your stomach growing. He can feel how tightly you're squeezing him and how your thighs are locked around his waist. He press his fingers into your stomach as his thumb swipes over your clit, his hips snapping faster and faster as he waits for what he hopes is coming. The pressure becomes too much he overstimulates your body, shaking as you cry out.

"I can't, I can't…"

"You can, just for me. Don't be shy, cum for me baby." His deep voice sends a chill through your body, you go rigid, quiet before your body jerks and releases a clear liquid onto his pelvis and cock. Shaking as he fucks your through it before his voice comes out strained as you milk him.

"Imma cum baby, where do you want it?"

"In me, I promise I have an IUD just fucking cum Dark Shadow!" You gasp and he obeys, adding to your pleasant after shocks, filling you to the brim with his hot seed with a husky grunt. He collapses onto you fixing your shirt before he gently withdraws, keeping his face to your chest as your fingers find his hair. You try not to let your thoughts wander and as if he could read your mind.

"I promise you, you're the only one who's made me do that." He kisses your throat gently before his hand searches for your free one, interlacing his fingers with yours before he hums. Slowly singing you to sleep. You welcome the feeling as exhaustion blankets you in darkness.

"Uh miss." The voice comes as a shock as a large man tries to wake you from a distance. You startle, grabbing at blankets to cover yourself although you're fully clothed.

"Hate to wake you miss but we're locking up. The venue is closed and the band is…" Although he looks a brute he clearly has some sort of heart. Unable to say what you know.

"Gone." Tears burn your eyes as you think of how stupid you were. To ever think you were special enough to be anything more than a groupie. A note sits on the bedside table.

"Should we cross paths again, Sparrow. I'll make you forever mine"

The note blurs as you recognize the lyrics to the song. You look down at his band tee and wonder if your favorite song was more of a gimmick to pick up fans than some fated promise.

And so life moves on.

You can only tell that time has passed from the fading color of your bruises. Slowly they melt from a cold bluish black into cool greens and warm dotted yellows. You sigh, looking in the mirror before you head towards your room for clothes. Finally mustering up the courage to wear that stupid band tee he gave you again. It still smells faintly of him, of the winter woods suspended in forever twilight. Of musk from your sweat and his. You fight back the tears as you remind yourself you just put on mascara, finally choosing to participate in a social life after having your heart broken for being a fool. You decided to get ready sooner rather than later, otherwise you would have backed out from the plans and mopped around the house. You figured some coffee would help kill the time as you lace up your converse thinking of your favorite shop. You head out and walk leisurely to the cafe off the beaten path of downtown. The street is full but not overly so as people browse the shopping district of the huge city you call home. Everyone fades into the background until your eye catches against a handsome man, dressed in tastefully torn black jeans, and an onyx turtleneck. You would be concerned for his attire in this weather if he wasn't so damn handsome. You must catch his eye as well as his face instantly lights up when he makes eye contact. He beats you to the cafe door, holding it open for you with ringed fingers like a gentleman waiting for you to enter. The gesture feels familiar causing your heart to squeeze in your chest, feeling trapped beneath your too small rib cage. As you walk past him you think you smell something familiar.

Like cedar and pine, dancing on a snowy wind as the sun sets the world on fire.

Your world on fire as you grip at the front of Dark Shadow's shirt trying not to cry. You just wanted your fucking macchiato and to move on with your life. You had lived every fan's dream of sleeping with your favorite band member. Tasting Dark Shadow's blackberry mouth. Shouldn't that be enough?

Your aching heart said otherwise.

Suddenly warmth is behind you, radiating off of a thick body as the handsome man bends over to put his profile to your ear. Goose flesh prickles your skin in late August as he says with a voice that drapes you in sinful black silk.

"You look damn good in my shirt, sparrow."

#tokoyami smut #tokoyami fukimage #tokoyami x reader #tokoyami x you #bnha x reader #bnha band au #server collab #fukimage x reader

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lunamusings · 3 years ago

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@jays-sinful-ink I mentioned this in an ask and realized it was silly not share this particular fic bit. Enjoy these two teenage wingnuts being silly.

Josuke x Lithium Fic Bit:

Oh “Hey, so how old are you anyway?” Lithium turned around and walked backward. “You mentioned you were a first-year in high school, but I don’t actually know what that means for your age.”

Josuke composed himself, thanks in part to the confusion. “I turn 16 at the end of next month. First years are 15 to 16 here.”

“Ah, that does explain it. The first year of high school in the States, 9th grade is 14 to 15.” She tilted her head. “I guess you only have three years of high school then instead of four.”

“Yeah.” He caught up to her short strides with ease and fell in step with her again. “Why did you want to know though?”

“I’m not great at guessing ages and I’ve noticed since I’ve been here that everyone looks way younger than they are to my eyes.” She shrugged. “Never hurts to be careful.”

“I guess you’re right.” Josuke chuckled. “I thought you were older, even though you’re short because of your…”

He stopped in his tracks, feeling his face heat up all over again. He could not believe what he almost said so casually and it left his mouth hanging open in a way he guessed looked incredibly dumb.

“I have big boobs, you can say it, Josuke.” Lithium grinned, a bit of a wicked edge to it. “They enter the room three days before I do, I am aware of this. Just acknowledge that they have their own gravitational force and move on.”

He suddenly found his shoes endlessly interesting. “Sorry…”

She scoffed. “Don’t worry about it. That was probably the most polite mention of them I’ve heard from a guy, pretty much ever, so you get to live another day.”

Josuke looked up sharply, a small flash of anger shooting through him, much to his surprise. “What the hell did other guys say?”

“Um, let me think of one that’s bad but not so much I can’t say it out loud.” She made an exaggerated “thinking” face as she pulled him back into walking by his sleeve. “I guess that would have to be the street musician who sang me an impromptu song called Spec-tit-ular Woman when I was just trying to wait for the bus in peace.”

Josuke blinked a few times before finding his words again. “Was it at least a good song?”

Lithium’s laugh nearly exploded from her. “Depends on your definition of good. With a hook like ‘smother me with them til I breathe no more and die the happiest man’, but it’s like a friggin’ slow song at a middle school dance, it was a struggle not to laugh. It didn’t help that I thought it would have been better as a sea shanty.”

“Oh, God…”

Lithium rolled her eyes. “I think the man fancied himself to be both members of Savage Garden, considering he had been butchering Truly Madly Deeply before he noticed me.”

Josuke paused unlocking his front door to look at her. “That just adds to the tragedy. Someone writes a song for you, but it’s terrible and insults a good group?”

“Not how I ever pictured being serenaded, believe me.” She shrugged as she followed him into the entryway. “I mean, Savage Garden is a good start but…no.”

Josuke found himself walking swiftly out of his shoes and to the kitchen when she bent down to unzip her knee-high boots. Her shirt had succumbed to gravity as she did so, giving him a much grander peek at the once-immortalized-in-song parts of her and the dark purple bra that contained them. He figured a hasty retreat was in order when his wayward mind suddenly understood why someone might attempt singing their praises.

#josuke higashikata #lithium aino pöllönen #canon x oc #jjba part 4 #they are dumb #and it’s hilarious

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jangmi-latte · 4 years ago

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Hey, its the anon who requested the singer scenario. I did not expect that you used musicals, especially I recognized "Defying Gravity" from Wicked and "Million Dreams" from The Greatest Showman. Because of it, I really wanted the same scenario but with Kamil, Vil, and Malleus with the fem reader who sings but this time, is singing with various languages from her world. Love your writing by the way.

❞ 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐝𝐞 ❝

➻ content: a singing latte

➻ warnings: none

➻ comments: welcome back to my cafe, dear anonie!

࿐. . . KALIM AL ASIM (ft. Pippin the bird) ; French

You hummed to yourself as you softly swayed, sitting on the sides of the fountain that was located in the middle of Scarabia. You were waiting for Kalim, who was taking quite a while with whatever Jamil called him for. There was nothing entirely important to do today. Classes were over and you just wanted to spend some time with your boyfriend.

He brought you to his dorm so that he could hear you sing again. He loves your voice and would often tell other students about your talent. Most of Scarabia already knows about your gift at this point. Right now, Kalim just wanted to spend time with you. Maybe ride a magic carpet, away from studies and just lay on your lap while you sing.

"Where is he?" you whispered to yourself as you looked at the entrance of the dorm. You sighed as you played with the waters. Suddenly, claws gently gripped/landed on your shoulders along with a gush of wind that made your hair fly around, "There you are, Pippin," you greeted Kalim's rose-breasted cockatoo who rubbed against your cheek while chirping.

Pippin flew down to your lap, looking up at you with a small tilt of her head before she nudged your chest, "What? You want me to sing?" you giggled and gently rubbed her wings. As if she understood, Pippin bobbed her head and chirped, "If you say so."

"J’avais rêvé d’une autre vie... Quand ma vie passait comme un rêve... J’étais prête à toutes les folies...À toutes les passions qui se lèvent. [I dreamed of another life...When my life passed like a dream... I was ready for all madness... To all the passions that arise.]” you softly sang. A beautiful song from your homeland that you and your mother would always sing.

The words fluently fell from your lips, your hands continued to grace on Pippin's feathers. The bird closed her eyes and comfortably perched herself on your lap.

“J’étais si jeune où est le mal? Je voulais rire, aimer et vivre....[I was so young where is the harm? I wanted to laugh, love and live...]”

Flying down, on his magic carpet, Kalim has just ‘finished’ his duties and more or less relieved Jamil from following him around. ‘I’m just going to go to y/n!’ He told the vice dorm leader. Ah, what a relief. No, he doesn’t trust Kalim, he trusts you and he’ll cherish the small taste of freedom he’ll receive from being away from the male.

Anyways, Kalim flew around Scarabia and once he saw you, he was in the middle of flying down before he heard your melodic voice. Just a few feet above you, he laid on his stomach and leaned on his hands. He couldn’t understand the words coming out from your lips but your soft tune was enough to leave him in awe.

“Danser jusqu'à la fin du bal...Ivre du bonheur d'être libre...[Dance until the end of the ball,...Drunk with the happiness of being free...]” you continued to serenade. Pippin felt the wind softly sway around, opening her eyes, she looked up and squawked at the sight of Kalim. You hummed and followed Pippin’s direction of sight, “Oh! Kalim!” you gleamed. His magic carpet slowly and carefully moved down to you, “That was amazing, y/n!” he complimented.

“I didn’t understand anything but the way you sang it made me want to hear it again!” he laughed and jumped down from his carpet. Pippin flew up and landed on his shoulder as he sat beside you on the fountain, “I don’t mind singing it for you,” you smiled. He laid on your lap, your hands raking through his locks.

“Please do!”

࿐. . . VIL SCHOENHEIT (ft. Rook Hunt) ; Filipino

The dance studio in Pomefiore was emptied, one by one the students left, leaving you, Rook, and Vil in the room. It was training, as Vil said. It somehow went smoothly, and the dorm leader was obviously relieved it was finally over. After all, you can’t avoid having reckless first years.

The model was fixing his make up as he sat on one of the chairs, Rook was leaning by the window— probably observing the others —and you, you were sat on the floor, scanning through songs on your phone. Your earphones were plugged into ears as your soft hums was the only thing heard in the studio.

“Psst.”

“Hm?”

Vil looked up from his compact mirror with an arched eyebrow, looking at Rook in confusion. The vice dorm head moved his head as if he was pointing to your direction, “Listen,” he smirked. The confused blond looked at your form that remained focused on scanning through your phone.

“Nung nakita kita sa tagpuan ni Bathala...May kinang sa mata na di maintindihan..[When I saw you in God’s place...There’s a glint in your eyes that I couldn’t understand..]” you softly sang along with the song that echoed in your ears.

Both males did not understand the song you were singing. For sure, you have caught Vil’s attention once again. He knew about your beautiful voice, he said it was another asset that was fit for Pomefiore. He silently adored how smoothly the words left your lips, in a form of a beautiful melody.

Despite the language barrier, hearing you sing always relieves him for the stress he tries to avoid at all times. He was absentmindedly staring at you and Rook wouldn’t want to ruin the prefect’s good mood.

“Tumingin kung saan sinubukan kong lumisan...At tumigil ang mundo...Nung ako’y ituro mo..[Looking where I tried to leave...and the world stopped moving...when you pointed at me..]” The song had a sad tune to it. You didn’t look sad at all, but rather, you looked so calm and at peace as the words effortlessly yet gracefully moved along your tongue. That belt you did at the end surprised both males.

You were truly talented.

“At hindi ka lumayo... Nung ako yung sumusuko...At nagbago ang mundo.. Nung ako'y pinaglaban mo.....At tumigil ang mundo...Nung ako'y pinili mo...Siya ang panalangin ko...[And you did not go far...when I was the one to give up...and the world changed..when you fought for me...and the world stopped moving...when you chose me..He is my prayer...].”

“What a beautiful voix [voice], y/n!” Rook clapped which caught your attention immediately, looking at the reflection of both blonds with red cheeks, “D-Did I sing too loud?” you embarrassingly scratched your cheek, “I didn’t mind it at all,” Vil commented and closed his compact mirror and sending you a charming smile.

“I love it when you sing.”

࿐. . . MALLEUS DRACONIA (ft. Lilia Vanrouge) ; Japanese

“y/n.”

You looked over at your senior from over your shoulder. By senior, you meant the old fae that was looking at his phone with a peculiar glint in his eyes. He was probably too engrossed from whatever he was watching, “Yes, senior Lilia?” “I told thou to just address me as Lilia, dear,” he responded before laying back.

He took off the plug of his earphones from his phone, “Malleus told me about a song that he known from Ignihyde’s dorm leader,” Lilia gestured over to the fae that descended down the stairs, “That’s right. Somehow, I heard you singing it from your room,” the younger male admitted as he approached you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before turning your chair over to face them, “What song?” you asked and Lilia gave you his phone, “I guess 'twere this one. That's what Idia sent me.” You took the phone from him and listened to the song. That’s right, it was one of your favorite songs from your homeland. You smiled and read the lyrics, “I know this song. It was from my homeland indeed.” You hummed the tune.

“Can you sing it?”

You looked up at your boyfriend in surprise, “You want me to sing it?” you repeated, “Of course, child of man. I want to hear you sing again,” he said, giving you his own smile, “I would love to hark a native speaker like thou sing a song from thy homeland,” Lilia added.

With a shy closed lip smile, you nodded and glanced back at the phone, “Tsui ni toki wa kita...Kinou made wa...Joshou no joshou de..[Finally, the time has come... Everything up 'til yesterday was a preface of prologue..]” you easily followed along with the song.

Malleus has took a seat next to Lilia, his eyes admiringly stared at you. Lilia was fascinated at how your lips gracefully moved along with the words. A language so foreign yet beautifully sung by a singer. Though, they may not understand, it was soothing enough to hear something new every once and a while.

“Tobashi yomi de ii kara...Koko kara ga boku da yo...Keiken to chishiki to...Kabi no haekakatta...Yuuki wo motte...Imada katsute nai SUPIIDO de..Kimi no moto e DAIBU wo..[It's fine if you just skimming it through...Because it's my turn from now on...My experience and my knowledge...And all the courage I had let start to mildew...At an unprecedented speed..I will dive right into you]”

Another thing Malleus adored was your smile. How your lips would curve up as you sung out the lyrics, you were enjoying yourself and Malleus couldn’t have asked for more. He was pleased, “Madoromi no naka de...Namanurui KOORA ni...Koko de nai dokoka wo.. Yume mita yo...Kyoushitsu no..Mado no soto ni...Densha ni yurare... Hakobareru asa ni...[ And when I dozed off into a lukewarm can of cola, I dreamed of a world that so far from here. Searching outside of the classroom window, or in a morning that's brought from the rocking train..]”

That was quite a fast structure of words and you gracefully pulled it off. Just as the song trailed off into a musical, your laughter was heard as you gave the song back to Lilia, “It’s a beautiful song, but I must admit I don’t memorize all of it.” You stood up. “And you sung it beautifully,” Malleus said and wrapped an arm around your waist, “You can sing us to sleep with how soothing your voice is.”

“Are thou calling me out and changing mine lullabies for her songs, Malleus?” Lilia pouted, “Worry not, dear, thy voice is amazing.” He smiled at you while you giggled in return.

“Thank you.”

“I still prefer her voice over yours Lilia..”

“Hey!”

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cdyssey · 4 years ago

Text

And Then

Summary: After Mr. Sheffield is mugged, Fran helps her new fiancé get into bed.

AO3 Link

—

Fran helps lower Mr. Sheffield onto his bed, conscientious of not brushing against his left shoulder. It had been pretty banged up during the mugging, scraped, scratched, and bruised. The doc who dropped by said that it wasn’t broken, though, thank God, but that isn’t gonna stop her from being gentle with her newly minted fiancé.

The last thing she needs is some freak accident to happen before she gets married at approximately twenty-nine.

(Puh, puh, puh.)

“Oh, come now, sweetheart,” Maxwell says, smiling at her as he nestles backwards against his pillow, “you don’t have to tuck me into bed. That’s what I pay Niles above minimum wage for after all.”

Snug in one of her favorite plush robes—the white one with little technicolored kittens all over it—she settles down on the edge of his bed like it’s his desk, crossing her legs.

“Gee,” she grins at him, “if I’d known that five yea’s ago, I would’a been gunning for his job all along. Does he sing ya a lullaby and everything?”

“A man doesn’t get serenaded by his butler and tells,” he smirks, the corner of his mouth crooking playfully, and by God, Fran falls in love with this man all over again.

Reckless, tender, fond, she leans down and presses her mouth softly against his.

She can taste the brandy on his lips, the intoxicating smell of his most recently smoked cigar.

“We’re getting married, Mista Sheffield,” she murmurs without quite coming up for air. “Max. It’s finally happening. You and me. Us togeth’a.”

Who would have thought that five years of desperate pining would have ever resulted in this?

An engagement ring that’s actually a pop top from a discarded can of fruit.

“Can you believe it, Miss Fine?” Maxwell asks against the side of her mouth, his breath warm on her skin. “Fran. It’s like a modern day Shakespearean romance.”

Fran suddenly withdraws, staring at him with a look she hopes is stern.

(She knows it most certainly isn’t. Her red lips part in a curtain wide-smile.)

“Not one of the tragedies, I hope.”

“No,” Maxwell agrees, reaching upwards to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “One of the comedies. As You Like It, perhaps. A Midsummer’s Night Dream.”

Fran’s skin shivers at his touch—so unrestrained, so loving, so kind—pink blush washing across her cheeks.

“I’ll have t’take your word for it. I haven’t seen the Blockbuster videos of those yet.”

“Really,” he murmurs, letting his fingers rest against the side of her face for a few moments longer, “all you need to know is that everyone lives in the end. Everyone gets married. Everyone has their happy ending. The audience applauds. The curtains go down. Their bliss implicitly understood to be eternal.”

“Yesterday, I would have called that a load of meshugaas,” she mutters wryly as he lets his hand fall on top of his chest.

“And now?” He prods.

“Hey,” she laughs, “what the hell do I know? Yesterday, I also thought I was gonna be a lonely, old spinsta ‘til the day I died.”

She means it to be funny, wants to be light, but she supposes that it’s hard to pass off this long-held fear as charming insincerity. Maxwell frowns, his dark brow lowering over his eyes.

“Yes,” he murmurs distantly, glancing up at the ceiling, “I quite know what you mean... after Sara, I closed myself off to the possibility that I would ever find love again. She was just... so kind and radiant and lovely... that when she passed away, it felt as though a part of myself went with her...”

Fran lets the silence that follows stand, holding her breath, gently biting her lower lip. This is the first time she’s ever heard Mr. Sheffield speak of his late wife’s death at any sort of length. He doesn’t talk about her much, only mentions her in passing.

Maggie has her smile.

Brighton has her sense of humor.

Gracie’s hair is the same shade of blonde that hers had once been.

(The chemo had been especially rough on her, Maggie had once told her quietly, precisely because she’d lost that beautiful hair.)

“I was a dead man walking for so many years, Fran,” he continues, his voice slightly hoarse, “checked out from my kids, buried in my work, still wearing my wedding ring... and then...”

“Then?” Fran asks softly, placing her hand gently on top of his.

“Then,” Maxwell smiles, the skin around his eyes creasing gently, “I met you. Or, well, more accurately, you came knocking at my front door selling cosmetics in a tight, little miniskirt.”

She chuckles—just a little too quietly—and he laughs—just a little too loudly—and there is an unmistakable gravitas between them now that Fran knows she has to address while they’re here.

Inches apart.

Vulnerable.

But together, finally together.

“Needin’ a break, a win, a sign from God, anything,” she smiles sadly, glancing at her metal ring. “I hate t’admit it, but I was pretty low myself then, too.”

Even though she knows Max is staring at her now, she doesn’t quite raise her head to meet his gaze yet.

“I’d just gotten out of the longest relationship I’d ever had in my life—which somehow included me bein’ cheated on every few months. But, boy, did Danny Imperiali have a way of makin’ me feel like that was exactly what I deserved. We were good t’gether most of the time, but when we weren’t, it was me who wasn’t good enough.”

It had been Fran’s fault for being too smart that Danny had found comfort in Heather Biblow.

And it wasn’t his fault that she was so pretty that his friend Mark Schwartz kept pinching her ass whenever she served drinks at poker night.

And it was on her that they weren’t married ‘coz God forbid she want a wedding dress more expensive than a scarf.

God forbid she push him into popping the question after three years of dating.

“I needed the job,” she continues, “but I guess more importantly, I needed t’be needed. I wanted to be loved. And then...”

“Then?” Mr. Sheffield echoes her gently.

Fran finds the courage to look up again, lighting upon his dark eyes, so replete with tenderness, with unmistakable care.

Pierce Brosnan can go stick it.

She's got the real thing.

“Then”—she moves her hand upwards from his chest to his hair, running her fingers through that damn gray streak that’s grown on her—“I came knockin’ at your door selling cosmetics in a tight, little miniskirt. I met you and Niles. I fell in love with your kids. You’ve all needed me in your own nutty ways.”

“And we’ve all loved you,” Max confirms, smiling at her. “So dearly and so much, Fran.”

“Yeah,” she grins back at him, tears suddenly glittering in her eyes, “I know.”

#the nanny #fran fine #maxwell sheffield #s: the nanny #dsfhioahfio #why am i writing more fic of the nanny #what is this muse

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nooneactuallyasked · 4 years ago

Text

Diner Gal - Reggie x Reader Part 9

Requested: It’s a series, there are no requests here!

Word count: 1,877

Warnings: Cursing

Summary: Julie and the Phantoms ( + Flynn ) go to a musical diner/café/restaurant for inspiration and hopefully a future gig but they end up meeting a very special waitress.

Note: We love Reggie moments- Love our himbo the most! Told you I’d do it today lol

Oop, just remembered I forgot the taglist for the last part so Imma add that in a sec lol

---

Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 3 here Part 4 here

Part 5 here Part 6 here Part 6.5 here Part 7 here

Part 8 here

---

Y/N sat on a table, writing out the setlist for the next day, another job Cal had left for her to do and it pissed her off to no end. She understood having a bad day, sure it sucked but don’t take it out on your employees! She let out a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding and decided that as long as she got paid properly she would put up with pretty much anything.

She still needed to practice her duet with one of the guys, Josh, but of course, he couldn’t be here, just her luck. Obviously, she didn’t blame him, things happened, but everything seemed to be going wonky lately and all Y/N was some stability in her life, Cal was a different person all of a sudden, she more work than she could handle and top it all off she was developing feelings for a ghost. Scratch that, she has feelings for a ghost that she could touch but no one else could see and it honestly kind of scared her.

Y/N huffed, placing her notebook next to her before hopping off the table, it was clear to see that she wouldn’t get anything done any time soon.

“Hey, Diner Gal! It’s your favourite phantom, me!” Y/N jumped a bit before turning around, an exasperated smile on her face, “Hello, Leather Boy, nice seeing you again.” Reggie grinned, he loved hearing her voice, it comforted him and made him feel wanted, “So, what are we doing?” Y/N sighed, turning back to her notebook, “I’m stressing over a setlist and a duet I’m supposed to be practising for, but I don’t expect you to do the same.” Y/N grinned at him over her shoulder. A worried puppy expression clouded over Reggie’s face, then he thought of an idea that brought a bright smile onto his face, “How about I help you practice? I mean, I could sing the other part, girl or guy. I’ve been told I have an excellent Sandy impression, I’m especially good at Summer Lovin’ in case you were wondering.” He winked at her causing her to burst into laughter, a warm smile lighting up her face.

“Um, sure, you heard and Dear Evan Hansen?”

“Have I? Julie showed 1 song to Alex and he wouldn’t shut up about it, he kept making Julie play us those songs over and over and over again, I think I know literally every line by now. Alex swears that he is Evan but instead of Connor it’s Zoe who’s dead and that him and Connor are happily married with a puppy.” Reggie widened his eyes to emphasize his point, Y/N snickered, “What a terrible fate you’ve been succumbed to.” Reggie rolled his eyes, secretly admiring how carefree the girl before him looked, “I’m serious! My ears can recognize any song from 3 miles away!”

“Okay, so, do you know Only Us?” Reggie nodded, he knew that one especially well, not just because of Alex but because it was his personal favourite, it’s how he always imagined love would feel like, carefree, a little awkward but completely accepting and unconditional. It wasn’t something he had experienced very much of and certainly not in the way the song presented it but he hoped maybe one day he could experience it exactly how the song said, with Y/N. “Yeah, I do. Is that the song?”

“Yep. I’ll just put the backing on, thanks for this.” Y/N smiled before making her way towards the counter where the kept the tech stuff. Soon the familiar melody drifted out of the speakers in the room and Y/N made her way back to Reggie.

I don't need you to sell me on reasons to want you

I don't need you to search for the proof that I should

You don't have to convince me

You don't have to be scared you're not enough

'Cause what we've got going is good

Y/N was looking right into Reggie’s eyes and it honestly made his heart skip a good thousand beats, he felt like she singing directly to him, like he was the only person that mattered. She made him feel alive.

I don't need more reminders of all that's been broken

I don't need you to fix what I'd rather forget

Clear the slate and start over

Try to quiet the noises in your head

We can't compete with all that

She moved closer to him, raising a hand to push away a strand of hair from his eyes, a soft smile forming on both of their faces. She stepped back, wringing her hands in front of her.

So what if it's us?

What if it's us

And only us

And what came before won't count anymore or matter?

Can we try that?

She took his hand and raised it up to meet her own before intertwining their fingers, she smiled down at them before meeting his eyes, the awe in them shining through causing her to smile bashfully and look back down.

What if it's you

And what if it's me

And what if that's all that we need it to be

And the rest of the world falls away?

What do you say?

Reggie unlinked their fingers and poofed onto a nearby table causing Y/N to snicker as her nearly kicked a ketchup bottle.

I never thought there'd be someone like you who would want me

Well...

Y/N looked away, feeling more than slightly flustered, why was a song so much better at deciphering her feelings than her own mind!

So I give you ten thousand reasons to not let me go

But if you really see me

If you like me for me and nothing else

Well, that's all that I've wanted for longer than you could possibly know

Reggie poofed back down and held both of her hands, looking into her eyes. It felt like they were promising to be with each other forever, no matter what, just like in the song.

So it can be us

It can be us

And only us

And what came before won't count anymore or matter

We can try that

He pulled her into a hug, singing into her ear, she’d never been serenaded before and this was probably the closest she’d ever come to a real experience but Y/N swore that no one would ever understand how she felt. It was perfect, even though it was all just practice for a duet she was doing with some else.

It's not so impossible

Nobody else but the two of us here

'Cause you're saying it's possible

We can just watch the whole world disappear

'Til you're the only one

I still know how to see

Y/N sat on a nearby table, Reggie standing in front of her holding her hands tightly, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

It's just you and me

It'll be us

Heat pooled in both of their cheeks, this moment was special, no matter what happened after they both knew this had connected them. Y/N brought a hand up to his cheek and brushed her thumb over it, delicately as if it were a petal.

And only us

And what came before won't count anymore

Y/N got off of the table, letting go of Reggie’s hands causing him to feel slightly disappointed, he enjoyed the warmth that radiated from her like she was the sun. She was the sun that brought light to his world. She belted out the note and Reggie just stared in awe.

We can try that

You and me

That's all that we need it to be

And the rest of the world falls away

She went back over to him, once again intertwining their fingers before Reggie looped his arms around her waist and she wrapped her around his neck.

The world falls away

And it's only us

They stared at each other for a few more seconds before Y/N buried her head into his neck and Reggie squeezed her tighter. He was afraid, what if this didn’t work? What if they turned into his parents? But then again, what if they clicked and everything was perfect. That was a risk he wasn’t sure he could take but he was starting to come to the conclusion that it might be worth it.

Neither of them knew how long they stayed like that but eventually, Y/N moved away, “So, uh, I should get back to work, you know, things to do and, uh, people to please.” She chuckled awkwardly, how do you follow that up with casual conversation? “Oh, yeah, Julie and the guys are probably wondering where I am.”

“Right.”

“So, bye.” It came out more unsure and more of a question than Y/N had hoped it would but Reggie didn’t seem to notice, “Yeah, um, bye.” She stepped back and sent him a small wave and smile which he returned before poofing out.

“Well, wasn’t that just sickeningly sweet, I do so love it when romantic drama is added to the mix.” Y/N whipped around and was met with the same guy in purple she had seen just the day before. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” The man mockingly gasped, “How rude of me, the name’s Caleb, I’m a very special…friend of Cal’s” Y/N raised a brow in disbelief, “Oh really? How do you know him?” Caleb rolled his eyes, “Cal, are we friends?” Y/N frowned before spotting Cal walk out of the shadows, what the fuck was happening and why was it kinda terrifying. “Yes, we are.”

“Cal, what the fuck is up with you?” But Cal didn’t answer, he just stared, he stared into nothing, as if anything and everything didn’t exist and he was the only one there. She glared at this Caleb guy, “What did you do to him?” Caleb smirked and chuckled? Deep, scary laughed? Whatever it was it made Y/N’s skin crawl, no one should laugh like that and not get thrown into a bin. “I just gave Cal a little ultimatum and he chose well, so now I have a little, how do I put this, control over him.”

“Now I have an ultimatum for you too, you see, I’ve been giving you a gift, a present shall we say, but everything comes with a cost and so now I’ve come to collect.” Y/N shook her head in confusion, “What’re you talking about? What gift and what price?” Caleb did another weird chuckles thing that made Y/N roll her eyes. “Sweetheart, how do you think you can see those boys? Why have you never seen any other ghosts beforehand?” Y/N stuttered, it made sense but it still kinda hurt. “What’s your price?” Caleb smirk, “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, and it’s simple really, I want the boys. And you’re gonna help me get them.”

That was not what Y/N expected, “What happens if I don’t?” Caleb’s expression darkened, “Well, you’ll have to get used to a life without your precious ‘Leather Boy’” He pulled a face at the nickname whilst Y/N stood there frozen in shock.

Well shit.

---

Taglist:

@hereforthejatp

@slutforjjmaybank @morganayennefertyrell

@dxestars @dcnerd98

@ultraworthlessbitch @revolutionary-werewolf-ghosts

@underc0vercryptid-reads @miisacore

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chroniclesofalonewolf · 4 years ago

Text

A SHOUT OUT TO MY FAVE ANIME GUYS - PART 1 (Because they also deserve it, you know....)

SPIKE SPIEGEL (Cowboy Bebop)

His Deal: Main protagonist of Cowboy Bebop. Bounty hunter born on Mars. A skilled martial artist that practices Jeet Kune Do. Well acquainted with guns. Owns a mono racer Swordfish.

His Criminal Past: Before teaming up with Jet Black aboard the Bebop, he was part of the Red Dragon Criminal Syndicate. But after being tangled up with his former colleague Vicious (and fell in love with Julia), he decided to leave the life of crime. Unfortunately, his past kept on creeping back to him during the course of the series.

RYUUJI TAKASU (Toradora!)

His Deal: Looks mean but he's actually a good guy. Can make a good house husband since he does all the work in their household. Takes good care of Taiga Aisaka, his eventual love interest.

The Tiger and the Dragon: Taiga and Ryuuji crossed paths on their second year of high school when the latter accidentally bumped into her. Thing got even more interesting when one night Taiga "attacked" Ryuuji in his home to retrieve the love letter intended for Ryuuji's friend Yusaku Kitamura. What's more, Taiga discovers that Ryuuji has a crush on her friend Minori Kushieda. The two then decided to help each other out with their respective crushes. And then chaos ensues... 😅

ALPHONSE ELRIC (Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood)

His Deal: Younger brother of Edward Elric. After performing human transmutation with his brother to revive their mother, he lost his physical body in the process. His soul is retrieved by Ed, though it is now enclosed in a suit of armor.

Polar Opposites: While his more famous elder brother is a bit stubborn, Al is kinder, more patient. Amidst battling his own insecurities, Al cares deeply to the people closest to him, even risking his own life in the process. Cases in point: Al protecting Xing princess May Chang and his ultimate sacrifice to save his brother Ed, both happened during the Promised Day arc of FMAB.

ASHITAKA (Princess Mononoke)

His Deal: Former Emishi prince. Have to leave his village to find the cure for the curse bestowed upon him by a demon he faced (in a shape of a wild boar). A skilled archer and sword fighter.

Caught in the Middle: While traveling far and wide in search for the cure, he was caught in the crossfire between to warring factions - the people of Irontown led by Lady Eboshi (one of the most complex antagonist in the Ghibli canon) and the forest creatures, spearheaded by San.

MAKI SEIJI (Bloom Into You)

His Deal: The Student Council's resident aromantic (though he admires people in love and even gives love advice). The one who first to discover what's going on with Touko Nanami and fellow freshman Yuu Koito.

Yuu's Lifeline: Maki has been a key figure in guiding through Yuu's journey especially regarding her relationship with Touko. His shining moment came in Episode 39 of the manga, during their day-off at the batting range. While Yuu admitted that she does not care about romance anymore, Maki made her realize that: 1) they are not the same (aromantic) as Yuu claimed to be; 2) she's been in love with Touko all this time (as Maki repeatedly telling her beforehand); and she's just running away for the fear of getting hurt. That moment became a turning point for Yuu, as it sets its stage for the fateful Episode 40.

TOMOMI MASAOKA (Psycho-Pass)

His Deal: Former Detective of the Public Safety Bureau then was demoted to Enforcer after his frustration on the Sibyl System. He was assigned at Division 1, working with the likes of Shinya Kogami and Nobuchika Ginoza. He also has a prosthetic left arm.

Daddy Issues: As he appears to be the father-figure of Division 1, he's actually the biological father of Inspector Ginoza. Although their relationship can be a little strained at times, they do care about each other, esp. when Ginoza seeks advice to her father. Tragedy struck when Masaoka fell into the hands of Shogo Makashima, in an attempt to save his son's life.

SHUN KAZAMA (From Up on Poppy Hill)

His Deal: Student at Konan Academy. A regular contributor to "The Latin Quarter Weekly", the school's newsletter. Have a bit complicated family backstory (I won't spoil it here for those who have not seen the movie!).

Jackass Moment: In one of the attempts in voicing out their disgust on the impending demolition of the Latin Quarter, the clubs made a bit of a scene during the school's lunch break. Shun - an active supporter to the cause - jumped from the Quarter's rooftop, hit a tree, then fell on a pool full of water. Umi Matsuzaki - the heroine of the movie - lended a hand to help Shun out.

DUTCH (Black Lagoon)

His Deal: Former US marine that fought in the Vietnam War then went into hiding and become a mercenary. He is the leader of the Lagoon Trading Company.

A Lover Not A Fighter: Dutch is more into negotiating to clients in a peaceful manner and giving orders to the rest of the crew. But he can be one dangerous fellow if the need arises (he's an ex-Marine after all!). But 'til then, he leaves all the dirty work to their resident trigger- happy colleague, Revy.

NAGISA "NAGI" AMANO (Weathering With You)

His Deal: Hina Amano's younger brother. And he's pretty much a scene stealer in the movie.

Ladies' Man: At a very young age (elementary school age?!?), Nagi has been pretty smooth with girls. This came in handy, when he seeked the help of her girl friends to escape on the foster care facility, and also save Hodaka as well.

JET BLACK (Cowboy Bebop)

His Deal: The captain of the Bebop. He can be one hell of a tough guy but he knows how to do house chores as well. On occasion, we may see him either cooking or tending his bonsai trees.

The Black Dog: In a series that deals about the past, Jet's backstory is no exception. Before living a life as a bounty hunter, he is a detective of the Inter Solar System Police (ISSP). But during his years as a cop, his girlfriend Alisa left him (as shown in a flashback on Session 10: Ganymede Elegy) and was betrayed by his former colleague Fad during a case against Udai Taxim (another flashback, this time on Session 16: Black Dog Serenade) that cost his left arm (hence why it is in prosthetic) and ended his career in law enforcement.

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katieykat513 · 5 years ago

Text

That’s The Way It Is

I made this for the wonderful, hard working @ao3bronte

This was only supposed to be a drabble; the work count determined that that was a lie....

Here’s the Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24188539

____________

Ladybug didn't think too hard about the night she showed up to patrol, Chat Noir dancing and singing to Celine Dion. She landed on the roof as her partner danced back and forth, serenading the night in beautiful English, Where Does My Heart Beat Now.

“Where does my heart beat now?/ I can't live without/ Without feeling it inside/ Where do all the lonely hearts go?”

One thing was for certain, his voice was beautiful. “Putting on a concert for me, Chaton?”

He nearly fell off the roof in surprise. “My Lady!” He squeaked, switching back to French, his face burning red. “How long have you been standing there?!”

She smiled, amused at his high pitched voice. “Oh, long enough to see how well you can move your hips, Kitty Cat.” She winked at him, his face turned redder than it was before.

“Uhh, can we just forget you saw that?” An uneasy grin settled onto his face.

“Well, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, Celine Dion is a wonderful singer.” She crossed her arms and gave him a sideways glance as he rubbed the back of his neck in his familiar, nervous habit.

“Yeah, well, just don’t tell the Ladyblogger, ok? Can’t have it out that this suave cat is a big ole wuss puss.” He flexed his biceps to exaggerate his point.

“Wuss puss, huh? I think you do that perfectly fine without that particular knowledge getting out.” She giggled as his face and arms fell.

He reared back up, placed one hand over his heart and the other over his eyes, “My Lady, you wound me so!”

After her giggling died down, they started patrol, Chat’s singing nearly forgotten. It wasn’t her fault that she turned on a Celine Dion album when she returned home that night.

____________________________________________

It wasn’t until a few days later, when Chat had solo patrol, that Marinette was once again reminded that her partner was a die hard Celine fan.

Marinette lounged on her balcony, her sketchbook lay on her lap, as she looked out over the Seine. It was a lovely night to sit outside and sketch the outfit that she had been thinking about all week. Maybe this outfit would get Adrien to become a stuttering mess for once; probably not though.

She opened her sketchbook and started to sketch a few basic lines when she heard it. A beautiful voice, singing in English.

“Love can touch us one time/ And last for a lifetime/ And never let go 'til we're gone”

The voice came from the other side of the roof and sounded like it moved past her quickly. She rushed to the balcony railing and looked around in the darkness to figure out where the voice had gone. Finally she noticed the silhouette of her partner two rooftops over, leaping and singing My Heart Will Go On.

He disappeared over the next building and Marinette shook her head as she headed back to her chair to finish her outfit. “Damn cat,” she muttered to herself.

She sat back down, put her pencil to the paper and froze. Her outfit would not come. All she could think of was Chat Noir singing that damn song. In her mind, all she could see was Chat Noir on top of the Eiffel Tower, arms spread wide, as the wind whipped his hair around his faux ears, yelling to all of Paris, ‘I’m the king of the world!’

“Uhhggg! Dumb, stupid, lovable, furball!” She grumbled as she turned to a different section of her book that contained doodles. Her pencil met the paper and the drawing came to life.

_________________________________

The next day at school, Marinette sat on the benches between the lockers, smiling at her drawing from the night before. So lost in thought that she didn’t register the humming of Because you loved me, nor did she see the shadow as it came up behind her.

“What you got there, Marinette?”

“Gahh!” She screamed as Adrien snuck up behind her. Her sketchbook flew through the air landing face up, the sketch exposed for all to see.

Adrien’s face went pale. “Wh..what is this?” He picked up the book and spun it around to look at the drawing.

“Uhh.. just a doodle. Came to me randomly last night.” She stuttered out as she reached for the book, but he took a step back and hugged the book close. She bit her lip and thought something was wrong with it and almost missed what he said next.

“Can I have a copy?” He breathed out.

“I’m. Sorry?” She said, completely confused. Why would Adrien want a picture of Chat Noir in a Titanic pose? And why did he look so pale and red at the same time?

“Uh. Oh. Um. You see. I’m a huge Titanic fan. And a huge superhero fan.” He stuttered out, not making eye contact, his face became increasingly red as he went along. He stopped and had a look of dawning on his face, “Actually, can I make a request?”

“Uhh. I guess so?”

“Can you make me this sketch, but can you do it from later on in the movie, when it’s Jack and Rose. But can you make it Ladybug and Chat Noir and on the Titanic? Please? I’ll pay for it! How much do you want?”

After breaking out of her shock, Marinette couldn’t help but lovingly smile at him as he became more excited as he spoke. A plan was already forming in her mind as pieces of a puzzle she didn't know she had, started to form in her head.

“Adrien.”

“Yes?”

“You don’t have to pay me.”

“But I can!!”

“But you won’t! Don’t worry Adrien, I’ll do it for you, because you are my friend. And I love giving gifts to my friends.” She stuck her hand out and he placed the sketchbook in her open palm.

“Thank you so much, Marinette! This means a lot to me! You have no idea!”

“Oh, I think I have an idea,” she said quietly.

“What was that?”

“Oh! I said, I have an idea...for the picture..yeah! It’s going to be great, you’ll love it! Ok. Gotta go! See you, Adrien!”

She gathered her belongings and left the locker room, not stopping until she reached her room. She flopped down on her chaise, grabbed the pillow, and proceeded to scream into it. Tikki flew out of her purse and landed on Marinette’s head.

“Marinette, are you ok? It’s just a drawing.”

Marinette lifted her head up and sighed dreamily, “It’s so much more than that.”

Confused, Tikki flew off to the bed while Marinette threw herself at her desk and began to furiously draw.

__________________________

A few days later the drawing was ready and she had a wonderful way to give it to him. Right before sunset she transformed, grabbed a blanket with supplies and hopped over to the roof next to hers. The same roof where Chat Noir had told her that he was glad to have her as a friend and she told him she was in love with another boy.

Oh the irony, she thought.

She set up a blanket, placed two pillows at each end, and put a box of assorted pastries, mostly passionfruit, in between them. She placed a few fake candles around the blanket and a small bluetooth speaker next to one of the pillows, but mostly out of sight from someone not looking for it. Satisfied, she looked at the time; two hours till showtime.

She hopped back over to her balcony and went down into her room. She grabbed her phone and a present off her desk, wrapped in black paper with a green ribbon, and hugged it close to her. She really hoped he liked it. She went back outside and hopped back over to the roof, except this time she hid on the other side of a chimney and waited for him to arrive.

Once she heard the tell-tale metallic sound of his staff twirling through the air, she looked at her cell phone and opened the music app. She had the song queued up, all she had to do was push play as soon as he landed.

She peaked around the corner of the chimney and the look of awe on Chat Noir’s face had her grinning ear to ear. She looked back down to her phone and pressed play. Power of Love started to play through the speaker causing Chat to jump into the air in surprise.

As the song headed toward the second chorus Ladybug got ready to make her appearance; she was going to knock his socks off. He kept looking around for her, and the moment he had his back turned from her couldn’t have worked out more perfectly, as she walked from behind the chimney, present in hand, as she sang in accented english.

“'Cause I'm your lady/ And you are my man/ Whenever you reach for me/ I'll do all that I can/ We're heading for something/ Somewhere I've never been/ Sometimes I am frightened/ But I'm ready to learn/ Of the power of love.”

“La..Ladybug?!” His voice was tight. He was on the verge of tears, wondering if this was real, a sentimonster, or a dream. His hand twitched to grab his staff and run away from the situation. She paused the music and tossed her phone on the pillow.

“Hello, Chaton. I know what you’re thinking. Yes, this is real. No, I am not a sentimonster. And I know that’s what a sentimonster would say, but hear me out! When we fought Copycat, all those months ago, you remember what made me realize which one was real?”

He nodded his head.

“You looked up at me from the ground, winked, and said ‘Would I ever lie to you, Buginette?’ remember?”

“Oh My Lady!” He ran to scoop her up in his arms. “I was so scared! Never do that to this poor cat's heart again!”

“Sorry. Guess I was just a little excited.”

“What is all of this? Why now? And I didn’t know you liked Celine Dion too!!”

“All will be answered in time. For now, open it.” She handed him the present he had almost squashed between them when he hugged her.

“A present? For me? But it’s not even my birthday.”

“I know.” He looked up at her, confused, “Just open it!”

She watched as he opened the present to reveal a small notebook that had pages that could be added or removed. He looked at it questioningly as she started speaking again.

“You see, I may enjoy Celine Dion, but not enough to commission a friend to draw a picture of his superhero alter ego, standing on the bow of the titanic with his superhero partner.” She looked at him as he lost all color in his face.

He looked down at the book and opened it. There on the first page, was the original doodle of Chat Noir on the Eiffel Tower, encased in a plastic page sleeve. He turned the page and gasped. It was almost the same picture, but instead of just Chat Noir, Ladybug was standing right behind him, standing on the second rung of the railing, to make her seem taller, her arms wrapped around his torso, as she sat her head on his shoulder.

“How did you..”

“Keep going, there's one more.” She interrupted.

He looked back down, tears glistened in his eyes, and turned the page. There, in beautiful color was a picture of two people standing on the bow of the titanic; except it wasn’t Ladybug and Chat Noir. Standing in the front was Marinette with her arms spread wide with Adrien behind her, his arms around her waist as she leaned into his chest. Picture Adrien leaned in to give picture Marinette a kiss on her cheek as her face was flushed. Both of them were wearing the original clothes that Jack and Rose wore.

“Mar...Marinette?” He looked up as tears of joy flowed down his face, to see Ladybug smiling wide at him.

“Hello, Adrien. I’d drop my transformation but I didn’t exactly tell Tikki about all this, so I’d rather not have to hear a lecture quite yet.”

He gaped at her and rushed to gather her in his arms again.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! This is the best present anyone has ever given me! Thank you so much, My Lady! Oh! I call you Buginette!! It’s so close to your actual name! No wonder you hate it! But seriously, Celine Dion! I loved it! You have an amazing voice, My Lady! And your art? Wonderful! When we get married I’m hanging this in our living room for all to see!”

Ladybug laughed at the overexcited boy in a cat suit. “Well, Adrien has to ask Marinette on a date before she agrees to marry him. But I have it on good authority that she’ll say yes.”

“Nope, we are skipping all the steps! We are going to go find someone to marry us right now! Show up to school tomorrow as newlyweds, and watch everyone freak out!”

“Ok. Ok. Calm down, Cat-sanova, we’ll get there. But first, I think you promised payment for a drawing. And as you can see I have provided you with three.” She puckered her lips out a little and batted her eyelashes.

“Payment? But you said they were a gift! I would have brought my wallet! If I had known!”

Ladybug gave him a deadpanned look as he started to freak out again, “Adrien.”

“Yes?”

“Just kiss me, Chaton.”

“Ohhhhhh. That kind of payment! Yeah. I can do th..”

She didn’t give him a chance to finish, for fear that he wouldn't stop, grabbed him by the bell and yanked him down to her lips, as she threw her other arm to latch around his neck. His arms came around her waist, as they held each other tight.

Celine Dion would definitely be a part of their wedding playlist.

#gift fic #miraculous ladybug #Marinette #adrien #ml #reveal #Celine dion #ladynoir #adrienette #adrien loves celine dion

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illuminated-cowboy · 3 years ago

Text

Stag Serenade

Chapter 2

Wildfire

Arthur shoved his hand into the dirt, feeling absolutely nothing as he phased right through it. He pulled through, trying to dig up at least a small amount of the loose soil, but he couldn’t manage.

An idea occurred to him, maybe he couldn’t dig up his body, but if he could get to his body, maybe he could dig himself out?

He reached in again, attempting to pull himself through while not being able to push off anything. He just floated in place in the dirt, kicking his feet as he tried making sense of the physics of being a ghost.

He realized there weren’t any.

“Come on, there’s gotta be a way to do this.”

“Are you still trying to get to your body?” a disembodied, yet not unfamiliar, voice embarked.

Arthur groaned, knowing it was his immortal curser again, “Yes I’m still trying to get to my body, dumbass!”

“Here, I’ll make this a bit easier for you.” With the sound of a finger snap, Arthur found himself face to face with his own body, cold dirt surrounding his almost fresh corpse.

“There you are, you ugly fool.” Arthur rolled over and held his own hands, what was left of the right one at least. Like a glove, he slid himself in, relaxing until he felt a click, a bump, something. He really wasn’t sure how he’d know when he was truly back in his own body again.

“I’d like to warn you of something, Arthur.” The strange man’s voice called out again.

“And what might that be?”

“Once you’re in your body again, you will not be able to die. But, you will feel like you are dying.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Because so far feeling dead has just frustrating.”

“Just a warning. I felt like it would be wrong not to warn you.”

“Right, but you didn’t feel it would be wrong to offer a dumbass like me immortality only for me to think you were joking, did you?”

“Oh come on now, there are so many possibilities ahead of you. You could become the smartest man in the world by the time you’re 1000. You’ll witness firsthand all major events going forward, even the end of the world most likely!’

“Right. So how long until I-Argh!” A sudden jolt of pain made its way through Arthur’s body, his lungs felt crushed and scarred, his torn arm began bleeding heavily as every nerve began to gain feeling again and his heart started pumping his old cold blood throughout his veins.

“Fuck! You son of a bitch, fuck you!”

“Good, you made it before there was too much nerve damage. I’ll leave you to it then.”

Arthur fought against the uncomfortable feeling of dirt entering his nose and eyes, the earthy taste and unpleasant crunch filled his mouth as he screamed in agony. Realizing he could only use one arm, he reached up above his face, trying his best to angle himself in a way that he could lift himself up without packing the dirt down on his lower half.

I will kill that bastard if I get the chance, I will rip his fucking throat out for doing this to me. I just wanted to be dead already, fuck!

He felt himself moving upward, a positive result for sure. He felt a spiritual power surge through him, it helped him to keep going harder and harder despite feeling weak and exhausted.

Finally, he reached air with his hand. A couple more breaths and one final pull, and his head emerged, like a mangled newborn baby. He screamed and cursed at the world as he burst through, dragging his revived corpse away from his grave and over to a tree to rest. His arm was done for, once he had his strength back he’d have to cut it off completely.

He spit out particles of dirt and blew black snot from his nose, coughing up far more than blood in-between. He struggled to breathe, every breath felt like eternity and the satisfaction of an oxygenated lung was far from grasp. He looked to the moon to take his mind off the pain and misery he was feeling, it illuminated his dirty, dampened features and reflected off his eyes gloriously. He couldn’t see himself, but he was sure he looked like a dead man walking.

Once he was sure he had hacked up every bit of dirt and blood left in his body, he reflected on the coming sunrise, realizing an entire day had passed since he had died. This was a sunrise he was never meant to see, and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel like a badass for cheating death, or a miserable man cursed to walk a world he was never intended to walk.

He finally felt recovered enough to rise to his feet, a dull ache radiating through his body and intensifying with every step. He wasn’t sure where he was even going, but he was sure if he walked long enough, he’d end up at a lake where he could wash up eventually.

He performed a dance of dragging his feet, groaning to himself, and taking large, unplanned steps in one direction or another. Sometimes he caught himself going in a small circle, and he’d have to recalibrate and jolt himself to the opposite direction.

The sun began to beam down on his dirt coated head, so he raised an arm up to shield the sun and happened to see the movement of an animal somewhere in the distance.

The whinny of a brown filly filled Arthur’s heart with a bit of relief, finally something besides a tree to stare at as he hobbled along.

As he approached the horse, he could make out a dark brown saddle on her back.

“Oh girl, please tell me your rider owns a bathhouse.”

The horse turned, noticing Arthur’s hobbling out of the corner of her eye. He reached out a hand and looked around for her owner, “Hello!” he called out as his hand touched the filly’s velvet nose.

She gave out a content snort at his presence, at least he knew that if her owner didn’t come around soon she’d likely be friendly enough to let a strange zombie man ride her.

A familiar voice called out from the woods, effeminate and soft, “is someone there?!”

“Yes ma’am,” Arthur looked around, unsure of where the voice was coming from and unable to put the name on his tongue, yet sure he had heard this voice before, “don’t be frightened by my appearance miss, I’ve been through one hell of a night.” His gaze settled on a woman approaching from the woods, a rifle in one hand and a dead rabbit slung over her shoulder.

She looked frightened and readied her rifle. “Who are you!?”

Arthur raised his hand and lifted a brow as he realized who the woman was, “Charlotte?”

She lowered her rifle and smiled in relief, “Arthur? What happened to you?!” She ran over to him excitedly, concern and worry overtaking her face as she realized just how torn up he was.

“Boy am I happy to see you.”

“I would say the same if your arm weren’t hanging off, what happened to you Arthur?” She gently touched just above the ripped section, trying not to let her shock overtake her ability to offer help.

“Wolves. Lots of ‘em.” Arthur chuckled painfully. “Only took one of ‘em to do this though.”

Charlotte cringed in second-hand pain. “Please, let me take you back home, you’ll die like this out here.”

“Kinda wish I did die, would hurt a hell of a lot less.” Charlotte shook her head, preferring to not think of her savior rather dying than being alive. She gently turned him towards her horse, assisting him up as much as she could before attaching her catch to the saddle and lifting herself up onto her filly.

Arthur held the woman gently with his living hand, steadying himself on the mare, “So, when did you get a horse?”

“I figured she was a necessity. Bought her in town one day, she’s been very loyal. Named her Wildfire.” The filly kicked up her hooves and began transporting her riders down the trail.

“She’ll be good to you til’ her last breath. My ol’ boy died about a day ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Was he ill?”

“No, no… It was, well, a rat. In a way.”

“A rat?”

Arthur tried looking for a way to describe what he meant without tainting her image of him. “I’m not a good man, Charlotte.”

“You keep saying that. But actions speak louder than words. And we are always our own worst critics.”

“It’s possible I have a chance to begin again,” he sighed, “but I’ve tried that so many times, always ends with someone getting hurt.”

“Well, you didn’t hurt me. You helped me, you saved my life. I will forever consider you my friend for that alone.”

“I was in with some bad guys. For a long time. The only ones who didn’t betray me in the end either died or left to make their lives better. And for that, I will never blame them. I should have left too.”

Charlotte slowly began to understand. “Well, it looks like you did leave. So now the question is, what will you do now?”

“I dun’ know.”

“Well, you can stay with me as long as you need to. I have an extra bed and you won’t be imposing.”

Arthur considered being stoic, denying her offer with something along the lines of “That’s alright Mrs. Balfour, I’ll get on just fine.” But instead, he sighed, and nodded to himself. “I think I could use the comfort of an indoor bed, thank you Charlotte.”

“I’m happy to hear it. I could use the company too. Maybe you can teach me some more survival skills as well!” She said cheerfully, looking behind her to catch a glance of the war-torn man. “Once you’re all fixed up, that is.”

The brown filly gave out a whinny as a fox crossed her path just a gallop away from the old cabin. Charlotte road her over to a fence post and dismounted, holding out a hand to assist Arthur down.

He chuckled as he oriented himself, attempting to first dismount alone. “In a normal world, I’d be helping you down, Mrs. Balfour.”

“Well, I’ve lost sight of whatever a normal world would be considered.”

With a shot of pain through his body, he winced, and grabbed for her hand reluctantly, trying not to fall or put too much pressure on the woman.

He tumbled down, buckling to his boots as Charlotte reached out to grab him, keeping him from falling far.

“This arm, Charlotte, it’s gotta come off.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened in response. “Shouldn’t a doctor make that determination?”

“Well, the last time I saw a doctor he told me I was dying, so I’d rather make the calls from here on out.” Charlotte wrapped an arm around him and assisted him as best she could, steadying him through every stumble and trip he endured as they made their way to the cabin.

“I don’t want you bleeding out on my watch.”

“I’ll be fine, Charlotte. I just need a good bath and a knife.”

She looked at him with pain in her eyes as she opened the door. “Well, if you think it’s for the best, I trust you.” She guided him inside to a chair, and he let out a moan of both pain and relief as he sat down.

“I feel like I could sleep forever, just right here.”

“I’m going to go get you a bucket of water and some soap and we can wash you up.” She gently patted his shoulder and grabbed a large wooden bucket by the door before heading outside to the well.

Arthur sat in silence for a moment, looking around her home. The home of a widow who, Arthur figured, was surely sufficient enough to have survived on her own.

Or maybe not. Maybe in another world, Arthur hadn’t helped her, hadn’t seen her when she needed him. And maybe nobody else had helped her either.

Maybe she was only alive because of him. The opposite of many, many people Arthur had come across in his life.

Arthur began undoing his shirt with his one good arm, getting down to the last button but finding it a struggle to actually get it off his shoulders, a mixture of pain and the lack of a second working arm being the culprit.

Charlotte walked back in; a bucket full of fresh water by her hip. “Oh, let me help you, Arthur.”

He leaned forward a tad, and she came around the backside of the chair, pulling as tenderly as she could at the blue button-up. One arm down, the healthy one at least. Coated in bruises but other than that, usable and strong.

His other arm was a different story, sticky blackened blood coating the ripped and worn fabric, she contemplated whether pulling it quickly was the right decision or pulling it slowly and possibly prolonging his pain.

He winced and turned away as she pulled it off, the blood pulling at his hair and torn skin. Fresh blood pooled on the floor in small amounts as she was careful to avoid touching the exposed flesh. Once it was off, he looked like half man, half bloodied beast.

“I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

“Hey, you didn’t attack me,” he mustered a grin as he took a good glance at his arm. The skin was completely torn away, the bone entirely dislocated from the rest of his skeleton, the forearm only hanging on by the thinnest strands of red threads, “I’d be real impressed if you did though.”

“Right. Well, I think you should get nice and clean before attempting major surgery on yourself.”

“Of course.”

Charlotte brushed her hair behind her ear before twiddling her thumbs for a second and asking, “do you need, help?”

“I do believe I might, but uh,” Arthur reached for the bucket with his good arm, “to save you the trauma, I’ll take care of the nasty bits later.”

Charlotte let out a relieved sigh. “I’ll go get something to scrub you with and a bar of soap.”

Arthur nodded in agreement. “Wouldn’t you rather we do this outside though?”

“It’s fine, I’ve been meaning to give the floor a good cleaning anyways.”

“Yeah but, this is gonna be a lot of blood and all, I don’t wanna-“

Charlotte came back from her room with a bar of soap, a hunting knife, and a couple towels. “I really don’t mind. It will be more comfortable for you in here.”

“Alright.”

Charlotte dunked the soap in the bucket, working the lather into a hand towel and taking Arthur’s good hand, rubbing the mixture up and down his arm.

Their eyes caught each other; hazel meeting blue. She refused to admit her heart skipped a beat at the sight, because despite his worn appearance and his dirt coated features, his eyes had so much more life in them than they did the last time they met.

She smiled, reaching a hand to gently touch his chin, pulling him slightly towards her as she gazed closer into those suddenly piercing eyes, “you’re healthy again, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“You were sick when you were here last time.”

“Well, you cure one thing, you end up with a lost arm I guess.”

She chuckled as she released her tender grip and continued to clean him up, handing him the towel and reaching for a new one to wash his face with, dabbing it under his eyes and behind his ears before wetting down his untrimmed hair and scrubbing it between her fingers.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened? I know you said it was wolves but, you look like you were buried underground.”

“Do you want the truth or do you want a lie?”

“I would prefer the truth, but if you’d rather be creative and keep the details to yourself, I’m still curious.”

“Well, I got the shit kicked out of me, died. God or Satan or whatever, he told me I was immortal now, but my body got attacked by wolves. I got buried then had to claw out of my own grave with one arm.”

“My, you are quite creative. I’ll have to keep you around for story ideas from now on.”

He smiled, “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“You know, even on Cal’s deathbed he was still telling jokes too.”

He looked to her with awe. “Any man lucky enough to have you as their wife would die happily regardless of the circumstances.”

She grinned, her eyes almost tearing up. “That’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever been told.”

“It’s been a good long time since I’ve been treated to a nice bath as well.”

“This next side will probably sting.” She said as she grabbed another clean towel and came round to the destroyed arm.

“I’ve felt worse, do whatever you need to do.”

She squeezed the towel, dripping cool soapy water down into the open wound. Arthur groaned in pain, his chest tightening as his teeth gritted against the feeling. He turned away, appearing to physically try and remove himself from the troublesome arm.

“Fuck,” he muttered through his teeth, struggling against it but knowing it had to be done, “give me the knife.”

She continued to rub down the arm, “I’m not even nearly finished getting all the dirt off-”

“Whatever is in there is in there, get me the goddamn knife!”

The woman reached for the hunting knife she had grabbed earlier from the table behind her, handing it to Arthur in one swift motion.

“Get my belt and tie it around my arm, as tight as you can.”

She hurried in front of him, kneeling and undoing the brown leather belt from his hips. Wrapping it around his arm and pulling it as hard as she could manage, blood squirting from the bottom, Arthur held the knife tightly before making one final request, “you got any alcohol?”

“Um, I have some rum in the cabinet.”

“That’ll work.”

She nodded, running for the container, and bringing it back to him. He placed the bottle between his legs, popped the top off, and took as many swigs as he could until the numbing feeling kicked in.

“I’m gonna need your help here, darlin’.”

“Anything, Arthur. I’m right here with you.”

“I’m gonna need you to hold this arm here as high as you can.”

She blinked twice. “You need me… while you…”

“I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t need you to but it’s gonna go a lot smoother if you do.”

“Okay.” She grasped his hand, cold deadened fingers between her own, and pulled the arm vertically, moving down to hold it by the length just before the wound.

Arthur stuffed a towel in his mouth, readied the knife, and began slicing into the flesh, screaming muffled into the towel as his entire body contracted in pain.

Charlotte held strong, looking away as blood splattered on her blue dress. With one final push, the arm came off, and the stump that remained poured with red liquid as Arthur tossed the knife and held the stub up as high as he could, pulling the belt tighter around it.

He spit out the towel onto the floor. “Candle!” he shouted, nodding to a candle that happened to be lit in the corner.

Charlotte dropped the arm and ran for the candle, handing it to her wilderness survival man without putting it out. He rubbed away as much of the blood as he could with a towel, then held the stump to the candle flame, trading his stinging pain for a burning pain.

The worst was over as he finished his self-surgery, laying back in the chair as Charlotte took the candle away. She returned to offer him more rum, to which he nodded and opened his mouth, silently begging that she pour it in and not stop.

With a bloodied arm on the floor, pools of suds and human liquids leaking from Arthur like a dripping pipe, he took one final moan and relaxed his eyes. “Thank you, Charlotte.”

“It’s no trouble,” she looked to the arm, the mess, the bloodied beautiful man in her chair, “I’ll go bury that in the back before it decomposes. Please, call for me if you need anything.”

And with that, Arthur was armless. He took one last look at the cold, bluish body part as Charlotte wrapped it with a towel and walked it out the door.

He picked up the rum and took another swig, the pain dulling his drunken state, yet still feeling the need to smile and say to himself, “I’m unarmed!” He giggled like a madman, trying to continue holding his brand-new stump above his arm, taking more sips in-between uncontrolled laughter, the majority of the rum dripping onto his beard and chest rather than his mouth.

By the time Charlotte returned, Arthur was far gone, flying high and performing a mixture of moaning in pain and giggling in pleasure.

“My angel!” He shouted at her. She took the bottle from his hand and rubbed some suds out of his hair.

“Do you want to keep bathing tonight or-”

“I will tell you,” he hiccupped and pointed a finger up, “what I want.”

Charlotte looked at him concernedly. “And what might that be?”

“I want for you to just give me the gentlest of kisses, right here,” he pointed to his forehead, “because women’s lips, they heal all wounds.”

She smiled, and kindly humored him, pressing her lips tenderly to his forehead. He pulled her close, his one good arm wrapping gently around her waist and pulling her in for a hug. She held his head under her breast, fingers trailing his cheek as she further indulged his desires for human touch.

“It’s been a while, darlin’.”

“Since?”

“Since I was loved.” He looked up at her, eyes looking even more pained than when he was cutting off his own arm. “I loved only so many women, and they didn’t love me, Charlotte. They used me, they used me and they left me when I couldn’t be what they needed. And that’s on me, I’m a horrible bastard.”

“No, Arthur, that’s on them honey.”

“No it ain’t, Charlotte. I hurt them bad, and I’d hurt you too if you got too close, but, I wanna be close to you. And I ain’t never wanna hurt you.”

“That’s enough of that,” she pulled away with kindness, holding his hand with both of her own in an effort to guide him somewhere to lay down, “come to bed, sleep this off and we’ll figure out the rest when you’re feeling better.”

He stumbled to his feet, holding her hands like they were precious jewels, looking at their every detail through his blurred, drunken vision, “I don’ wanna hurt you, Charlotte.”

“Don’t you worry about any of that right now, come with me.” She wrapped her arm around his back and assisted him into her guest bedroom, laying him down gently on the bed, holding his arm up and resting it on a pillow by his head.

She pulled out a blanket and laid it over his bare chest, keeping him warm for the rest ahead.

She kissed his forehead once more, wishing him a goodnight without words, then closing the door behind her to give him some privacy.

Arthur came in and out of a blacked-out state, desiring to go wander the halls and find Charlotte again to continue his self-deprecation, to show her and prove what an awful man he is, and why she would be right to toss him out and let him suffer. But she wasn’t going to do that, and he wondered if he really made such an impression on her that she would now trust him like this.

He could easily hurt her, maybe not physically but surely emotionally. That’s why Mary left him, right? He couldn’t change. He wasn’t redeemable.

But either she didn’t believe he would hurt her, or she didn’t care. Maybe she had been through the same pain as him, enough so that she didn’t care, just like he didn’t. Or at least, just like he kept trying to convince himself that he didn’t.

#fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #fanfic #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #rdr fanfic #reddeadredemption fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfic #arthur morgan

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remijaecrowley · 5 years ago

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Feed the Hunger

Just a short fic of our favorite bumbling boys and one trickster of a succubus Bard. Song lyrics from “Animal” covered by Chase Holfelder. Listen to it and imagine it being sung in that style by a female and you got my succubus. XD

Geralt grumbled as he had to push his way through the crowded tavern, that Jaskier had BEGGED him to bring him to, to reach the bar, tossing down a few coins and holding up two fingers to the Barkeep for two pints of ale. The barkeep nodded when he saw the Witcher, quickly sliding two large pints to Geralt before scooping the coins off the bar and dropping them in his apron pocket.

Geralt nodded in thanks before turning and muscling his way through the crowd again, holding the mugs high above the heads of the humans that had packed the small tavern house. He didn't get what was so impressive to have this many humans gather for a bard, but he knew his own Bard was thrumming with excitement over getting to hear this particular Trobairitz. The Witcher had to listen to the Bard's excited babbling all the way to Toussaint. While he loved his little songbird, sometimes, he had to fight the urge to strangle the Bard just for a moment of peace and quiet when Jaskier got wound up over something.

The Witcher made his way through the crowd to his Bard, who had taken up residence at a small table as close to the stage as he could get. Geralt watched Jaskier for a moment, before the bard noticed his Witcher was watching him. The Bard's nervous, excited energy made the bard seem to vibrate in his seat. The Witcher rolled his eyes as he slammed a mug in front of the Bard on the table, causing Jaskier to jump, letting out a very undignified squeak.

"Fuck! Geralt! Stop startling me like that, you big burly bastard! Had me thinking one of the locals was trying to take our seats for a second there...and I will fight anyone who tries it....well, more likely yell loudly til they either give up or you come and scruff them." The bard harrumphed at first, though ending his conniption with a grin that made the Witcher roll his eyes again. Geralt hmmm'ed at the Bard as he settled himself in his chair, not liking being so out in the open, much preferring to be in a corner of the room with two sides guarded by walls, so as to make being on guard easier. He definitely did NOT like having his back to the crowd, so the only table he and the Bard could finally agree on where the Bard would have a good view and the Witcher felt it was a bit easier to defend was off to the left of the stage, Geralt able to set his back to a column at least.

Jaskier took a long sip off his Ale, leaning over toward Geralt to murmur," The show should be starting soon. I wonder what this new bard's schtick is? We all have one. Mine is singing songs of the adventures of the White Wolf..."the bard grinning at Geralt, "Others do dancing or whatever. For this bard to be THIS popular, they must have one hell of a...." the Bard's words trailing off as the crowd around them started to cheer as a woman stepped out on the stage.

Both men had seen some surreal beauties in their travels, but this woman even made the magically enhanced beauty of Yennefer pale ever so slightly. Skin that gleamed as if dusted with honey powder, hair that hung to her waist that shone like the darkest rubies, and eyes....well, the eyes were what struck Jaskier hard, having him elbowing the Witcher sharply and his whispered, "Her eyes, Geralt! Her eyes....they are like yours!"

Geralt grunted at the elbow, giving the Bard a glare that would make lesser men quail in fear. All Jaskier did was roll his eyes and whisper, "Yes, yes, scary face. I KNOW, Giralt."

The Songstress laughed softly at the cheering, her laughter like crystal bells ringing through the room. She bowed to her audience and grinned playfully. "Good eve, my darlings! Thank you all for coming to my modest concert. I am your humble Bard, Ilana. May my songs be found pleasing and your hearts...and coin purses, opened!" The crowd chuckled at her comment about coin purses as she nodded to her musicians to start playing. Soon, her voice rang out, weaving a spell over the patrons of happiness and joy as she sang of epic battles won, lovers united, and destiny. The crowd had quieted down as she started singing, unlike when Jaskier would do his little impromptu shows while he and the Witcher were on the road. Jaskier felt a little jealous, but at the same time, he couldn't truly be jealous. He felt too happy to feel jealousy at the moment and he was enjoying this feeling.

Geralt, on the other hand, was frowning. The only frown in the packed tavern and he was frowning because his medallion was vibrating against his chest. The Songstress took note, a small smirk playing on her lips as she finished a song, the crowd cheering happily. She held up a hand to ask for quiet and the audience settled down for her as she spoke,"I see we have a hero in our midst, my darlings. The famed Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf Witcher is here. I think it would be a perfect time for me to sing one of my new songs, in honor of our hero, don't you think?"

The crowd cheered louder at the idea and Geralt's eyes narrowed, a low growl escaped him as he went to make a grab for Jaskier. The fact his medallion was dancing a jig against his chest meant to Songstress wasn't human and was something that could use it's voice to control people. A siren, or maybe a succubus of some sort, though he wasn't sure and the fact he wasn't sure made him feel uneasy. He wanted to get Jaskier and himself out of there NOW, before she started to sing again.

He tried to make a grab for the bard, but found himself unable to move. a thunderous look crossed the Witcher's face as he struggled to move, but he felt pinned to the seat, the golden cat eyes of the Songstress were on him, as if she was pinning him with her very gaze. He grunted, trying to move, only managing a fidget in his seat. Jaskier was so enraptured with the Songstress, he wasn't even noticing that his friend was trying to get his attention.

The Musicians started playing the next tune , the music soft and slow as Ilana opened her mouth and the first dulcet words dripped from her lips.

Here we go again I kinda wanna be more than friends So take it easy on me I'm afraid you're never satisfied....

The words wiggle into the Witcher's mind, trying to strip him of his years of honed willpower. The words tickled at the thoughts he'd been supressing for a long while now. He couldn't give into those feelings. If he did.....if he did, Jaskier would be hurt possibly and that thought made a feeling he didn't feel very often rear up. Fear.

Ilana kept singing while the Witcher glared at her, a smirk pulling at her lips as she knew her spell was worming it's way into the Witcher, despite his years of training and his mutations, even a Witcher had a hard time fighting a succubus who sang as sweetly as a siren.

Oh, oh I want some more Oh, oh What are you waitin' for? Take a bite of my heart tonight Oh, oh I want some more Oh, oh What are you waitin' for? What are you waitin' for? Say goodbye to my heart tonight

Jaskier glances at Geralt, finally noticing the Witcher hadn't grunted or moved in a bit, noticing now that the Witcher was in a locked eye match with the Songstress singing, as if she was serenading the Witcher. OF COURSE. She wanted a piece of Geralt, but then, he was a terribly handsome man so Jaskier couldn't blame her. At the same time though, a spark of jealously flickered in the Bard's heart as his gaze moved from Witcher to Singer and back again.

The music takes on a stronger beat, more insistent as Ilana sings, her body swaying to the rhythm on her song, her golden eyes never leaving the Witcher's face, the smirk on her lips as she sang growing wider as she saw the Witcher's eyes start to glaze over. Good....her spell was working and soon he would give into his desires, which was exactly what she wanted. She wanted him to pounce, maul, devour the one he desired, to release all that tasty, tasty repressed and pent up energy in him. She didn't understand why he would deny himself something he desired, something that would bring him pleasure, but then, her skill set was perfect for this. Tempt, tease, bring her prey to the point of begging for it, then releasing them on their heart's desire, feeding off the energy as the lust was consummated.

Here we are again I feel the chemicals kickin' in It's gettin' heavier I wanna run and hide I wanna run and hide....

Oh, she knew the Witcher wanted to escape. She could feel him resisting. The more they resist, the more delicious the final result. She poured all her power into her words, knowing it would leak over to the rest of the audience and....yeah, there might be a few affairs this evening, or a few new surprise babies to be had, but she wanted to feed off the Witcher. She would make him submit to his desires. She hadn't lost a battle of wills like this before and she didn't plan on it tonight.

.......And I won't be denied by you The animal inside of you!

Jaskier actually growled a little himself at the lyrics, realizing they were aimed at his Witcher and that spark of jealousy was slowly being fanned into a flame. First he had to deal with Yennefer's claim on Geralt and now this...this...this singing hussy was trying to seduce Geralt in front of the whole damn audience with him sitting right next to the Witcher! Though....he had to admit, the words made him a bit tingly...thinking of Geralt...wanting to be more than just his best friend. He'd wanted to be more pretty much since day bloody one with the blasted dense man, but Geralt always kept him at arms length.....unless he was injured, or it was cold, or he needed to shake some sense into the Bard.

The tune dipped low and quiet again as Ilana sang, her voice nearly heart breakingly sweet.

Hush, hush, the world is quiet Hush, hush we both can't fight it It's us that made this mess Why can't you understand? Oh, I won't sleep tonight...

Geralt's eyes shifted from Ilana to the bard next to him. The words echoing through his thoughts, "Hush, hush, we both can't fight it...." Why HAD he been fighting something that he wanted so much that just looking at the bard made his loin ache and his chest tighten? Why was he denying something that they both obviously wanted, just that Geralt was being a stubborn bastard and not wanting to have someone else feeling bound to him. He knew if he gave into this...this want, this longing for the Bard that he had been fighting, Jaskier would be bound to him as tightly if not more so than Yennefer was. That thought terrified the Witcher. He didn't want to bind the human to him but if he gave into his hunger, his desire, he wouldn't let Jaskier go ever again.

The music grows louder, faster, as Ilana's voice rings out, her arms extended out, hands grasping out to the audience, towards Geralt, her words burrowing into the Witcher, making that iron will crack under the assault of her power, her demand that he give into his desires, that he give into her command to give himself over, to be free.

Oh, oh, I want some more Oh, oh, What are you fighting for? Take a bite of my heart tonight. Oh, oh, I want some more! Oh, oh, What are you fighting for! What are you fighting for?

The songstress' eyes slid shut as she felt it. She felt that iron will snap under the demand of "What are you waiting for? What are you fighting for?", a devilish grin stretched across her lips as her golden eyes fell on the Witcher, watching him launch himself up from his chair finally as the audience around him cheered for the song. A smug look graced the singer's face as she watched the Witcher grab his Bard next to him and yank him to his feet. Ohho! This was not what she was expecting at all! The smug look grew into a huge grin as she watched the Witcher manhandle his Bard out of the stage area and muscle him up the stairs.

Ilana took in a deep, deep breath, the grin on her face wouldn't go away now. She could feel the energy flowing over the inn/tavern in thick waves. She was suddenly glad humans couldn't sense lust, desire, and love like she could. There might have been an all out orgy at that point with the energy coming from the room somewhere upstairs where a Witcher finally gave into his heart's desire and his Bard was thinking it was about fucking time!

#one shot #the witcher netflix #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #witcher fanfiction #no beta #i will go down with this ship

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