WHAA? There is absolutely no trace of Francouer x reader inserts! You guys have no idea how sad that makes me. D: I absolutely love Francouer and the movie A Monster in Paris. Well, since I couldn't find any I decided to make one myself. It's not much, actually its kinda short. Just a little fluff. If any of you have found a Francouer x reader story please tell me! i'm desperate. D:
You coughed once again into your handkerchief, laying your head back down on your pillow. Cold fingers clasped around your neck; absolutely hating how your throat scratched and kept you from sleeping at night. This was one of those nights, going back to sleep would just be useless; you'd only wake up yet again.
With a sigh you reached over and turned on your lamp, illuminating your tiny room. You glanced over at your lonely looking guitar that sat in the corner. It had been a while since you had picked it up and played. Since you had gotten sick you constantly felt weak and drained. But your fingers itched to play it, to strum those steel strings and produce beautiful music.
Lifting yourself up from your bed you made your way over to the guitar. With the guitar's neck now in your hand you slumped to the floor; your head already dizzy and your breathing labored from just that little distance. You smiled at the feeling of the cold instrument in your hands, lightly strumming your fingers across the strings. Pressing them securely in a certain arrangement that produced a multitude of sweet sounding chords that melted together to make the music your ear had been aching to hear.
After a while of playing you abruptly stopped and began to cough violently into your hands. Curling up on the boarded floor, you held your guitar tightly against your body. Looking up you saw something in your window that made you jump. Your quick actions made the figure jump back as well. Large orange eyes stared back at you with curiosity. Getting up and cautiously making your way to the window, your fear subsided. You slowly opened your window, all you could still see were its eyes though.
You took a step back from the open window and motioned for whatever it was to come in. Normally you would never let a stranger in at the dead of night, but those big eyes showed no malicious intent toward you. With a strange cooing noise it stepped in and to your great surprise it was a large, blue, insect! Dare you say it even resembled a flea. He had to crouch a little so he wouldn't bump his head on your ceiling. The pincers on his face moved as he continued to make those strange noises. His four arms stretching out, you could see the tiny little hairs on each skinny appendage. It seemed ironic how neither of you was able to talk to one another. (Excluding his little chirping noises since you didn't understand bug.)
He then spotted your guitar that still lay on the floor and he picked it up. Wide eyes examining it with so much attentiveness. The creature held the guitar as you did moments ago (had he been watching you?), looking at you for a confirmation that he was doing it right. With a smile you nodded and showed him where to place his fingers; then gently taking one of his right hands, you moved it so he was able to strum a chord. He smiled, letting out another cooing noise and his large auburn orbs seemed to grow bigger with excitement. For the first time since getting sick you found yourself having fun teaching this gentle creature how to play your most loved possession. It didn't matter that neither of you were able to verbally communicate.
As the night went on though you grew extremely weary. Closing your eyes you figured you could just rest them, but with the giant flea playing your guitar so beautifully you were quickly drifting off to sleep.
x
"(y/n)!" your mother shook you awake. Panic in her voice when she cried "Oh did that monster hurt you?!"
You looked at your mother in confusion then at your still open window. Your guitar carelessly laying on the floor. After checking you to see if you were injured your mother continued to explain how she came into check on you and saw the Monster of Paris crouched over you. She scared off the beast by screaming at it and waving around violently your pronged poker that belonged to the fireplace. Your mother went on to say how terrified she was when she tried waking you up the first couple of times.
"I-I thought the fright the monster gave you worsened your condition!" your mother blubbered while she held onto you.
More than anything you were sad for the flea being scared off by your mother. He had done nothing bad to you, only brought you company. You hoped though that someday you would see him again and you'd be able to play guitar with him. The very thought made you strong and would hopefully keep you alive to see that day come.
