Moka_Tau
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A British Man and a French Man Must Pretend to Be Engaged. What Happens Next May Surprise You. by BewareTheCircles
Fandoms: Limbus Company (Video Game)
11 Dec 2024
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Heathcliff has to pretend to be dating Meursault for a mission. Surely this can only go well.
Bookmarked by Moka_Tau
27 Sep 2025
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Summary
Meursault, Ishmael, the sun, the stars and the seas.
- Words:
- 13,468
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 11
Bookmarked by Moka_Tau
21 May 2025
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A Fate Determined by His Blood by FadedSystems
Fandoms: ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
25 Dec 2020
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Ripple of destiny! In your heart let it resonate. It is your fate... - Taken from Jonathan Young's English Cover for Bloody Stream by Coda
Inspired by the idea: "What if Jonathan survived the ship-wreck and lived for the events of Battle Tendency?"
Bookmarked by Moka_Tau
11 May 2025
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the root of the root and the bud of the bud by brella for Marks
Fandoms: ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
28 Nov 2019
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Narancia doesn't think that he's ever felt it more than he does right then, laughing stupidly on the floor of Trish's house with all the lights off, so while he's laughing he lets himself feel it until he says it: “I love you, Trish.”
Trish stops laughing. Maybe she hadn't heard him. He says it again, just in case, just because.
“Trish, I love you,” he mumbles, slinging an arm across his face and smiling into it, so wide and helpless that it might hurt a little. “I love you.”
In which Narancia says something true, and many things follow. Or: under the influence of cheap prosecco, Narancia tells Trish that he loves her. The thing is, this isn’t something that Trish exactly knew.
Bookmarked by Moka_Tau
09 May 2025
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where we keep the light we're given by brella
Fandoms: ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
24 Feb 2024
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“I… I wanna open a restaurant,” Narancia says. “A really good restaurant! But shit’s expensive, and I don’t just want Giorno to pay for it all, so…”
A restaurant. The simplicity of it throws her, for a second—but she remembers the afternoon that Giorno had gone with Fugo and Abbacchio to Pompeii, and the rest of them had stayed behind in the safehouse by the vineyard, and after an hour or so she’d heard Narancia banging around in the kitchen, throwing together something with spaghetti and garlic and anchovies. She remembers the song he’d been humming, off-key. La varca mia, Santa Lucia.
She remembers so much more of Narancia—so much more of that fistful of days of hiding and running and hating—than she wants to. Even today. Even now.
“Or,” she says, “you could come on tour with me. My bodyguard just quit. Like, this morning.”
Trish, Narancia, and what comes after.
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- English
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Bookmarked by Moka_Tau
09 May 2025