This chapter is based on the song the story is named after. It has the nastiest, filthiest, boldest, most wickedly beautiful guitar played by Eddie Van Halen. One day I was driving to work and imagined Levi playing this song, and this story was born.
The first song in the chapter is the one Survey Corps opens with, Guns 'n Roses "Welcome to the Jungle." The second is Van Halen's "Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love."
How would I do this? I'd listen to the songs first, visualizing in your own way, what Levi would look like if he played guitar on these songs. They're just as fucking hot at he is!
Let me know what you think. I love you guys! ❤️ Mags
SPOTIFY LINK https://open.spotify.com/track/6fybp4N6eW3bsFAvARxyVe?si=a10f457db9414113
SPOTIFY LINK https://open.spotify.com/track/0G21yYKMZoHa30cYVi1iA8?si=0b0484d406834c4a
The lights went out and cheers hovered above the crowd, bodies surging and pining for the pure liquid sound pouring out of a single guitar. One bright red light bathed the tall blonde Adonis strapped to the guitar in question, beating out the beginning of Guns n Roses' "Welcome to the Jungle."
Another red light broke onto the drummer in a military crew cut, grinning maniacally, their body vibrating with the beat of their foot pounding the bass drum, spinning drum sticks in their long fingers.
Wailing at the microphone on the front of the stage which glowed in blue light, stood a tall and lithe, leather-clad young man with platinum blonde hair and cinnamon colored skin. Charm oozed out of his smile and body, as he plucked the thick strings of a bass guitar.
And finally, on the right hand side of the stage, a shorter, but no less menacing figure moved in and out of a smoky black and white light that flashed as his sound became more and more amplified. He wore a sleeveless black shirt that rode up his muscled stomach, and sinewy arms fueled the power of his fingers that wrenched the brutal sound from his guitar
The band's energy seemed to lift off of the stage drawn out by the singer's howl. At a toss of his head, the beat dropped, and they plowed into the song with so much ferocity that for Eren and every person in the bar, the perfection of their sound and intensity of the experience transported them to another time and place.
Armin jumped up and down next to him, holding onto his shoulder for balance, alternating between shrieks and hollered lyrics. All Eren could do was stare at the feral, animalistic movements of the guitarist's shoulders, back and hips - the guitar, not merely an instrument to be played, but a true and elegant extension of his body. Music didn't just come from the guitar, it was born in the heart of the man, and unfolded from his fingers in a sensual push and pull of energy. If Eren wasn't completely hard standing in the crowd, he would be by the end of the song.
The man's skin was porcelain, pale and fine as vellum. The only color came in the flush across the back of his neck, the center of his chest and the planes of his cheekbones. As he played, sweat created slick light on his body, picked up by the gleam of the stage lights. Tossed across his forehead lay fringed strands of hair, so black, they were blue. He wore a perpetual scowl, created by the "V" between his eyes.
ВЫ ЧИТАЕТЕ
AIN'T TALKIN' 'BOUT LOVE
ФанфикLevi Ackerman lives a relatively quiet life. He runs his own accounting firm, working hard for other people's money by day. But, come Friday night, the suit comes off, and in a downtown dive bar, he plays guitar for a rock cover band. All the strict...
