#featuring Rat King!

[rivrsong]

no actually he's the love of my life

#he said have a good weekend to me and im in shambles #he's a gym rat. a dancer. a dom. good with kids. has rodent features. and is a short king #i am in love #this is about dancer colleague btw #sigh #get him out of my head #nora purtroppo parla

[deadsetobsessions]

Tim Drake, Danny’s human identity in this universe, is a boy trapped in an empty manor with absentee parents a low socialization.

Danny Phantom, on the other hand, is Gotham City himself. He could fly, he could interact, he could be the heart of his city like he needs to be. From the lowest of the lows to the highest of the highs, Danny loved the people that were his. Well, most of them. Child molesters often found themselves crossing paths with a vengeful, mostly recovered Robin.

He is the city, he is Gotham. And with his status came more changes, ones he welcomes more readily that the changes that came with his title of Ghost King.

Being a city couldn’t change him as much as it would have, had he gained the title before becoming King. But now, his shadows are dark, curling around his shoulders and curling away what little light he allowed into his city. His skin, having once glittered green with stars and galaxies and black holes, clouds over just a bit. It gives him a misty quality. His hands become sharper, stronger. Gargoyle-like. He wonders what he looked like to Batman, holding his broken son cradled safely to himself. He’s crueler, now, but that’s easily balanced by his years of being a vigilante himself.

He loves these changes. They are loved in a way changing into Dead Danny Phantom and Ghost King Danny Phantom will never be loved. And even though his human features are different in a way he never had to deal with as Danny Fenton, because it was his body that he died in, Danny finds himself enjoying the distinction. And he enjoys when they combine, because in the end, they’re just facets of who he is, now.

Gotham flies through his city, and enjoys it as a whole. A bigger picture.

Tim Drake walks through his city, and enjoys it as an individual. The smaller picture.

Being Gotham reminds him of what he had to protect as a whole. A duty he gladly bears.

Being Tim reminds him of the people he’s meant to help, the stories he doesn’t get as Danny. A connection he gladly encouraged.

Gotham is power. He is duty, he is fierce love. But for the good of the whole.

Tim is kindness. He is choice, he is gentle devotion. But for the good of the individual.

He’s both.

Danny. Danny Phantom.

Phantom glides through the smog.

The ebb and flow of people is his life blood, the thrumming of life and death and fear and hate and love and everything the city is sung through him and Danny sung back with everything he had. Danny is the gargoyles perched high, watching everything. He’s the stone curves of the sewers, sheltering his rats and mutant murderous crocodile man. The is no love comparable to a city’s mutant rats and their sewers. Ancients, he loves his city.

It would be nice, Danny thinks wryly, if they’d love me enough to stop blowing up buildings.

The sting of destruction to his city would hurt much more, had he not also been King. Regardless, every time there’s an explosion or general large scale property damage, he feels a stab of mild pain. Catching sight of his Bats, Danny stays invisible while following them. He wills the shadows to cradle them, to hide them further. He softens the stone, the mortar, the steel, just a hint. Their footsteps, silent and aided by the city himself. The wind steal away the noise of the grappling guns, so when Danny’s favorite vigilante duo (a fascination he shared with original text!Tim) broke into the building, not a single soul aside them are aware of the intrusion.

Batman skulks across the support beams, Robin following with an anticipatory grin. Danny floats, invisible, undetectable, besides them.

“C’mon!” A goon grunts beneath them. Danny tilts his head. A… Dresden Aberthy. Wow. That’s one hell of a name.

“Hurry it up! Boss said Batman’s going to get here soon!” Another goon- Robbert- said, waving around a gun like a moron at the terrified hostages. Danny could tell half of them were part of a tour bus, mostly because the other half were his Gothamites, bored and unfairly used to this kind of thing. The tourists… He’s fond of them, having kept track of their progress through his city. He doesn’t care for intruders on his haunt, but tourists like to appreciate his city and its doubtlessly Sam-approved architecture. Most of them. Rude tourists get pigeon shit on their heads and food stolen by his lovely rats.

He’ll have to make sure none of the bullets hit the tourists. He likes this group, even if he has enough awareness to question their sanity in choosing his city to sightsee. He knows it’s a mess. It’s Danny’s mess though, so whatever.

——

All said and done, Batman whoops ass and Robin rescues the hostages just fine. Danny grins proudly as Robin knees a guy in the crotch and punches a lady’s throat in order to incapacitate them.

After they tied the goons up, and interrogated them for Two Face’s plans- explode a quarter of Gotham to distract the Bats from his diabolical plan to murder half of Gotham’s judges and lawyers that have been going after him and his people- the duo retreats to the rooftop.

“Didja think Gotham saw that?”

Batman goes to reply, but Danny beats him to it, coming back to visibility with a wind touched laugh.

“I did, little Robin.” Danny smiles, fangs and shadows on display as his vigilantes startles and whips around to face him. “You did well.”

Robin- Jason!- gapes at him.

“I see you’ve recovered, little bird.”

“Gotham! Oh. Wow. People always said Gotham was a lady, but you’re a guy!”

“It was a Lady,” Danny confirmed. “It’s complicated, little bird.”

“So, you’re really… you’re really Gotham? The city?”

Danny looks at Robin with the weight of the city behind his gaze.

“I think you know the answer to that. But yes, I am your city.”

“Constantine,” Batman starts. “He said that city spirits only appear in times of grave danger.”

There is deference in his words. Batman is Batman for Gotham, after all. Danny just wishes he could… well, be friendlier with his knights. May this is a good place to start.

Are you in danger? What threats do we need to handle? How can I help? How can I protect? Please, let me help.

His Knight always felt more than he ever says. Danny smiles.

“Was Robin’s wellbeing not in grave danger?” Danny floats closer. “I am your city. You protect me, it is only right that I protect you, no?”

“Thank you for saving me, Gotham!” Robin’s grin is a touch more sincere than usual.

“Of course, Robin. You are loved.”

“Is there… a reason you’ve shown yourself today? Gotham.”

Danny chuckles, understanding the awkwardness that was Batman addressing someone with deference.

“I wanted to tell you that you did well tonight. Those tourists weren’t harmed in the slightest. Well done.” Danny gave Robin a playful but sincere thumbs up.

“They weren’t a match for us!”

“No, they weren’t.” Danny ruffles Robin’s hair, noticing how still he grew at it. “Robin was too fast for them. That maneuver at the end was masterfully executed.”

Batman clears his throat and Danny resists the urge to laugh at him. It would be mean.

“Thank you, for the… praise.”

Fuck it. He’s played well behaved for too long.

“Yes. I read in child rearing books that positive reinforcement is necessary for healthy development. You did well, Batman.”

Despite trolling Batman- and somehow holding a straight (and hopefully wise face)- he meant every word.

Allowing a small smile to slip at Robin’s chortles and Batman’s quiet sputtering, Danny moves on.

“Where is Nightwing, Batman?”

“He’s still on a mission...”

“If it is awkward to refer to me as Gotham, Phantom will do.”

Batman dips his head once. “In space, with the Teen Titans.”

“I see. Please tell him I request his presence,” Danny barely waits for Batman’s oddly acquiescing agreement before summoning a pigeon.

“Follow her,” Danny instructs the duo. “She’ll lead you to the places with explosives. I will guide you through her, to Harvey Dent.”

Danny winces as another explosion rings out.

“Your face is cracking!” Robin exclaimed, worried. He surged forward to stare at the hairline cracks appearing on Danny’s jaw.

“That would be the explosives. Any damage to the city will be shown on me.”

“Well take care of it.” Batman growled, shoulders straightening once more into an imposing symbol.

“Yeah!”

“I know you will. Stay safe.” Danny disappears, spreading his awareness and directing his Birds to the explosives that will go off the fastest.

Batman and Robin share a glance and leaps off the roof, ready to save their city once more.

——

Tim Drake wanders around Crime Alley, and meets a blonde nine year old trying to throw hands at her absentee Riddler knockoff of a dad. He dodges the brick en route to his face and kicks the guy’s knees out.

“You okay?”

The girl blinks. She stares at her dad, groaning on the dirty street of crime alley, and flicks her gaze back up to Tim, who waits casually.

“Yep. I’m Stephanie. We’re gonna be friends now!”

She grins at him, a baby tooth missing, and Danny melts.

“Heck yeah. Tim!” He introduces himself for the first time in a long time.

Maybe with Stephanie around, he’ll finally use the name Tim? Maybe he’ll get used to it, finally!

#Danny Phantom #danny is Gotham #gotham bay is a corpse dumping ground #gotham #batman #DCxDP #dpxdc #Bruce Wayne #Danny is a menace #he sets Gotham city pests upon rude tourists #that’s right respect the city or get shat on #Batman: no outsider heros unless with my express permission #Danny: literally fuck everyone else but my own city #also Danny: I’m a hero I gotta help people everywhere #batman: this is my city and he deserves all the respect and reverence #also Batman: that is a child asking me to save them I will do whatever #nightwing is still in place #tim drake is a menace #tim drake is a little shit #but in a slightly more eldritch way #instead of the sleep deprived unhinged badass that is original Tim

[kkurades]

HEART TO HEART ━━━━━ masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

NISHIMURA RIKI never would have thought that being a demon meant he’d be summoned by you on a late tuesday evening begging him to make your p.e teacher disappear for a day just because you didn’t want to run during class the next day

pairing: demon!ni-ki x fem!student!reader

genre: high school au, slight!supernatural au, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, crack, smau, written, slight!angst

featuring: rei of IVE ( faceclaim ), enhypen, yunjin of LE SSERAFIM, yuna of ITZY, ning ning of AESPA, danielle of NEW JEANS, jongseob of P1HARMONY , chaeryeong of ITZY , ricky of ZEROBASEONE

warning: dark humour, cursing

status: finished

( started on 23/03/2023, finished on 06/07/2023 )

tag list: @sserafimez, @neohyxn, @smh-anon, @redm4ri, @stopeatread, @yourfavoritefreakyhan , @saiewithakatana , @kyuupidwrites , @i-dont-know-me-either , @aestheticsluut , @certainyouthpeanut , @deadgirlwalking3 , @4imhry, @1-800shutthefuckup, @moonshoon, @tzuyusluv, @j-wyoung, @strwberrydinosaur, @soobiverse, @astrae4, @ensrfm, @kimipxl, @imasimplol, @vlvtrkii, @enhafika, @maerijw, @arizzu, @txtmetonight, @dimplewonie, @catryu, @wonyoungsvirus, @haewonluvr, @artstaeh, @softpia, @witzys, @run2seob, @beomgyusonlywife, @st4rfiles, @txtmetonight, @ilovewonyo, @yumilovesloona, , @ghostiiess, @noonaslvr, @ahnneyong, @ineedaherosavemeenow, @ryomenswife, @wildesreblogs, @kissezfornamjoon, @lomlyeonjun, @jhopesucker ( closed )

ENHYPEN MASTERLIST ˚୨୧⋆ MAIN MASTERLIST

## PROFILES !!

001. beatles dupes

002. anti yn haters

003. satan’s children

## CHAPTER INDEX !!

one | strawberry lamp

two | laughing out loud

three | queen ni-ki

four | sugar mommy

five | edward cullen

six | summertime sadness

seven | jisoo the fish

eight | tunnel of misery

nine | vogue magazines (0.4k)

ten | ultimate demon rizz

eleven | the class president

twelve | niki is riki

thirteen | holy eyes

fourteen | nr. 1 fangirl

fifteen | mlp socks

sixteen | little lover boy

seventeen | king julian

eighteen | bad kisser (1.1k)

nineteen | kissing rat

twenty | babygirl privileges

twenty one | gold digger

twenty two | #notacheater

twenty three | riki’s headphones

twenty four | the og riki

twenty five | the L word

twenty six | i love you (0.3k)

twenty seven | pookie

heart to heart © kkurades, 2023.

#✩⋆˚ heart to heart #enha niki #niki #niki x reader #niki nishimura #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki #riki nishimura x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen masterlist #enha x reader #enhypen smau #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #enha #enha smau #niki smau #nishimura riki smau

[ozzgin]

I love your work! It is so hard to find good Baki writers. Could you please do a Yujiro x Female fighter reader. I feel like Yujiro would actually start falling head over heels with a reader who fights well and is as sadistic as him.

Thank you! And yes, realistically speaking - or at least what makes most sense in my opinion - Yuujirou would go for someone that not only is submissive to him (because any human would then suffice), but also shows impressive skill and strength. There’s an interesting idea that I once read in the introduction of “The Gates of Janus”, the book written by serial killer Ian Brady. The foreword author argued that Ian is what you’d call a rat king, an alpha above most alphas, and that for such personalities, most of the time, an equally dominant woman is sought for as a partner. Naturally she’d submit to him still, but only a woman of high dominance could keep up with this kind of intense character. This mentality felt a bit outdated and potentially misogynistic to me, but I think it really fits in the case of Yuujirou. Sorry for the ramble.

Yandere! Yuujirou Hanma x Fighter! Reader

Featuring The Ogre and a female reader that nearly matches him in strength and ruthlessness. TW: Dubious consent, violence.

[Baki Masterlist]

Yuujirou can have anyone in the world, whether man or woman. It’s not up to them, really. It’s up to his mood and whims. And when he can have just about anyone, actually finding someone worth his interest becomes a difficult task. He doesn’t need an extra weight to drag around and as far as he’s concerned, commitment is not something he requires in his life. What would be the point?

No, for someone of his status, commitment doesn’t come as moral etiquette or requirement for a relationship. He has considered it, and in theory it could only be offered out of his genuine interest and never demanded by someone else. For The Ogre himself to fixate on one person and never wander eyes anywhere else… They would really have to impress him. Guarantee him that this is a one time deal never to be found again. And once that person is found, they’d do well to perform their role as his partner because there is no way out of it.

Lamentably, such temptation has never crossed his path. That is until a feminine figure strides into the ring of the Underground Arena. Yuujirou is ready to burst with laughter, but he’s quickly silenced by the rather abrupt end of the match. The mysterious character remains unfazed by the opponent’s blow and uses the opportunity to swiftly twist and crush the offensive limb. With the same indifference plastered on the face throughout the agonizing wails of the much larger man, she delivers her ending move and within seconds the arena is quiet again. After recollecting himself from this unexpected succession, Yuujirou turns to Strydum that’s been watching with similar amazement. “Who the hell is that?” He grunts. “I don’t know. Should I find out?”

Sometimes Yuujirou will replay the encounter in his head. He still gets shivers of raw excitement whenever he remembers your eyes back then. That utterly defiant glare. Strydum had asked you to meet them in private and as you entered the room, you immediately demanded to know why you’d been summoned. The Colonel begun fumbling in terror, almost begging you indirectly to not upset the redheaded man. “M-Mr. Hanma wished to see you, Miss (Y/N)-“ he was interrupted by your resounding snarl. “And who the fuck is Mr. Hanma to afford such audacity?” At that moment Yuujirou stood up, hands in pockets but visibly tensed up. You instinctively clenched your fists and frowned at the unspoken difference in power. The Ogre was halfway expecting you to fold and apologize, but after a minute your expression relaxed and your confidence returned. “Bitch. You’d rather die than give up your pride, huh?” He smirked at the thought. There was something about your attitude that greatly pissed him off but also turned him on at the same time.

The hardest part is getting you to accept him as your partner. See, Yuujirou will never beg or ask nicely. On the other hand, he’d rather not kill you, and severely damaging you in any way would take away the fun that caught his attention in the first place. That’s the dilemma: you’re stubborn and he can’t use force. Then again it’s not like he’s a mindless brute. Quite the opposite, only if he feels like it. A little charm with a dash of intimidation and you should be convinced, right? Don’t push it, (Y/N). If he really has to choose, he’d rather have you dead than belonging to someone else. It’s either him or nothing.

Really, it’s to your advantage if you learn to behave. He can give you everything you desire. He’s rather experienced in spoiling his women, and for you he’ll go the extra mile. Knowing he tamed you of all people is all the payment he could ever ask for. The satisfaction of putting you in your place, of having you cling to him fills him with greedy pride. A cocky smile distorts his features whenever the realization hits. If there’s such a thing as a soulmate, he’s found his. Although he doesn’t believe in that kind of bullshit.

A frightening pair in the eyes of most people. The Ogre relishes in the fact that displaying you as his woman has further increased his reputation instead of signaling any trace of weakness. As the time passes his conviction only strengthens: there’s no other place for you. You’re all his. Yet his favorite detail, what makes him flushed and dazed and addicted, is that no matter what he does to you as you lay there sprawled, naked, broken, your dignity never leaves. That prideful gaze that leers back at him makes him feel like he’s facing a mirror.

#baki #baki the grappler #baki hanma #baki headcanons #yandere #yandere baki #baki x reader #yujiro hanma #yujiro hanma x reader #yuujirou hanma #hanma yujiro #yandere x reader

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #imposter au #genshin cult au #genshin impact cult au #arlecchino #lyney #furina #you do NOT wanna know what i got put thru writing this fic #trying 2 find out where arle was in the few times we DO see her and going down a rabbit hole of fuck fontaine and its layout actually! #I spent like 3 hours looking it up and checking in game it gives me a migraine thinking abt it. ew #anyway trying to write a really smart character is surprisingly difficult when ur as dumb as rocks #also used an actual chess match for this and gave myself an even worse migraine trying 2 make sure i didnt repeat moves or smth #furina doesnt get a spotlight yet just imagine her sitting in the corner trembling like a wet kitten you found on the side of the road #arlecchino goes thru a crisis more at 11 #shes a tired single dad shes isnt getting paid enough for this okay #hands u a fic over half the length of the other THREE PARTS #ehe :] #is arle actually on ur side??? is she gonna double cross u???? who knows!!!!! #shes unpredictable she might stab u for funsies #anyway im gonna go nap in a ditch now this took SO LONGGGGG OH MY G-D #also just think acolytes who arent buddy buddy w reader and even resent them is so tasty #bc how r they supposed 2 know reader was a human vibing 5 minutes before their got eebied 2 teyvat.. #reader gotta roll up their sleeves and get 2 WORK sometimes murder IS okay #they gotta fix some shit around here and that means committing several crimes all at once. sometimes more #a group can be g-d (just got here) their dragon (neuvi) their cat (archon) their dog (wrio) and their wolf (arle)

[author-morgan]

Title: Daylight Rating: M Pairing: Arthur x fem!Reader Summary: Arthur always knew you and he would make a fine match. ...hiding all of our sins from the daylight... I've now collected all(?) your husbands for my infinity gauntlets. a late merry christmas and an early valentines for you boo. @mrsragnarlodbrok.

“SORRY,” ARTHUR MUTTERS, “hands are rough.” He noticed how you pulled away from his calloused touch as he pressed the stained damp cloth against the bloody wound on the back of your shoulder—remnants of an arrow after Bedivere and the Mage helped him dig out the bodkin point. It’d likely been meant for him in the heat of the battle and he cursed himself seeing you fall nigh feet from him, pulled away to shelter by his kingsguard. Even with the power of Excalibur, he’d been unable to protect you—an age-old promise broken.

You lift your gaze from the charred stone floor, looking at your reflections in a fogged-over mirror on the opposite side of the room. Focus has his brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. “You always say that,” you tell him, words slurred from the pain, exhaustion, and strongwine, and voice rougher than normal. This isn’t the first time Arthur Pendragon has tended your hurts and woes, and at this rate you doubt it’ll be the last.

Dried blood and sweat washed away, Arthur picks up the piece of tree bark with a salve prepared by the Mage to stave off the pain for a while and keep the wound from festering. Then, Arthur binds the wound with fresh linen and wipes his hands, kneeling in front of you—hands resting on your hips. You lay your hand on his cheek, thumb sweeping across his cheek, marred with dirt and soot. Leaning toward him, he meets you halfway, and you set your lips on his—a soft, fleeting kiss like the touch of butterfly wings.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you tell him, fingertips mindlessly combing through the scruff on his jaw. He straightens to full height but does so with a grimace. “You’re sure you’re not hurt?” You ask again.

“Just bruises,” he assures you, and this time, it seems like he’s being truthful, besides the few scratches on his hands and the slim, already scabbed-over, cut on his forehead. 

Arthur sits next to you on the edge of the bed, looking toward the open balcony. You both can hear the joyous shouts and chants. Bedivere and the others will only be able to satiate the men for so long. They will want to hear from the one who led them to victory. From the Born King. “They’ll be waiting for you to give a speech,” you tell him. 

“They’re waiting to go headfirst into the barrels of grog,” he amends, but if the out-of-tune songs are anything to go off of...  

“Sounds like they already have,” you laugh. Tonight, there will be revelries for the victory against Vortigern and his forces. In the following days, there’ll be feasts to honor the fallen and growing lists of preparations for a coronation. But right now, Arthur Pendragon doesn’t want to be a king just yet. Right now, he’s content just to be Arthur the street rat, especially when you lean your head against his shoulder and link your fingers through his—and then he’s certain there’s no one else in all of England for him except you.

“HIDING FROM ME? Or everyone else?” Your head quickly swivels to the side, only to relax at the sight of Arthur approaching. You cannot help but wonder how he isn’t cold. He's not dressed anywhere near as layered or warm as he should be for the winter evening, but somehow, he manages to look cozy even in just a scarlet linen-and-wool doublet. Stepping back, your eyes flit up to the scarlet-tinged leaves, still clinging to the branches of the white-bark birch, before looking beyond to the fresh falling snow. 

He stops at your side and looks up, too. “Was just thinking about what a bad influence you’ve been on my person,” you tell him, a small half-smirk creeping onto your features. Arthur tilts his head back in amused question, then stares up at the leaves and the silver sliver of the moon peeking through the winter clouds. “As I recall, I was an innocent girl before you came along and ruined all that.”

His blue eyes narrow, arms crossing over his chest. “You’ll have to refresh my memory on how I did that, darlin’.” He moves a little closer, and you sense his ploy, twisting and ducking when he moves to grab you. 

You face him with brows raised, smiling. “Such a brute,” you taunt, “grabbing at innocent girls in the castle courtyards at night. Is that any way for the King of England to behave?” 

Arthur only rolls his eyes, trying to smother another smirk, and this time, he catches your arm as you move around him. It takes little strength to move you how he wants—pressing you into the trunk of the great tree at the heart of the courtyard. His hands press against the smooth bark beside your head as he leans in enough to look down at you. The glint in his eyes is mirthful, but there’s something else shining in his gaze too—you’ve seen that look a dozen times now, and you’re almost afeared to think about what it can mean. “Maybe you have a point,” he drawls, wearing that crooked, boyish grin that makes your heart flutter.

Your laugh almost catches him off guard. His hand slips down to run gently along your waist, the other toys with the hair at the side of your head. You lean back into the tree more, relaxing as your hands find his waist to rest on. “My father sends his kind, innocent daughter to study in Londinium, and what does this strong, noble boy do?” Arthur raises his brow. “He shoves her against a wall in an alleyway because he has no reasonable way of expressing his feelings with words.” He was just a street rat orphan and you were the daughter of some fancy lord from far away—opposites in nigh every way but more alike than you ever could have imagined. “I was never the same after that.”

His head dips down into the crook of your neck, nose training across your throat and inhaling the scent of roses and lavender. “No,” he smiles, voice low—more of a muttering husk—lips twitching as he pulls back, glancing to your lips and up, “but you’re more fun now.” Your expression falls flat, and Arthur laughs. It’s nigh impossible not to grin or melt at the sound and how little it seems you’ve heard it of late—and by Merlin’s beard, he’s impossibly handsome with laugh lines crinkling the edges of his eyes and a lopsided smile. Leaning further into him, his breath dances across your cheek, the back of his fingers brushing along your neck. 

You exhale shakily, and Arthur teases you again with light presses of his lips along your jaw and neck—hands smoothing up and down your waist as he does. For a moment, your hands find their way to his chest before you remember how open the courtyard is and that anyone can happen upon the two of you like this. Glancing around, you breathe his name in a flustered whisper, hand pressing against his chest—the last thing a new king needs is rumors to turn into scandal. 

Arthur takes a step back, giving you both room, but then there’s a new glint in his eyes. The playful mirth disappears from his cornflower eyes, replaced by something more serious—kingly, even. It’s something he’s been thinking about for years. Maybe even since the two of you first met by happenstance in the streets of Londinium and struck up an odd friendship. But over the years, Arthur thinks he cannot just call you a friend, not anymore. What he feels runs deeper than that, and given his newfound title and responsibilities...“I’ve been thinking,” he starts.

“And does it pay well?” You quip in a poor attempt to lighten the now solemn mood.

He rolls his eyes, exasperated, unable to hide how his lips quirk upwards. “Would you let me finish?” And so you do, unsure what he must say or ask that warrants such a dramatic change in his usual demeanor. Arthur reaches for your hand, the rough pads of his fingers curling around and into your palm. He stoops forward, lips brushing against your knuckles—reverent. “I’d like you to stay,” he breathes, straightening back to full height. Your brows furrow. “Here,” he adds, “with me.”

You know what he is asking of you—marriage—and it should be an easy answer. Yes, of course. You’ve loved Arthur since before you knew what the word truly meant. But given the events of the last few months and the precipitousness of his proposal, you’re left speechless, heart beating in your throat until all you can do is run to the haven of your chambers with tears pricking your eyes.

A LOUD KNOCK on the great wooden door echoes in your bedchambers. You rouse from sleep, righting the oversized tunic hanging off one shoulder in an attempt to appear decent at the late hour. Part of you already knows who will be waiting on the other side, but when you crack open the door, it still surprises you to find him standing before you—wearing only a loose, nigh threadbare tunic and pair of dark britches. “Arthur,” you greet, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before motioning for him to come in.

There’s still an uneasy air between you after the earlier events and conversation in the courtyard—his proposal. “I shouldn’t’ve….” he starts as you do. “I should not...” You both fall silent, eyes searching the other’s face for an indication of who will be the first to speak, the first to act, but there’s only silence. 

“Yes,” you quickly tell him—the shock of his initial proposal has faded, and now you’ve never been more certain about something in your life. You still can’t say what it is that caused you to react in such a way—Arthur’s the only man you’ve ever loved, the only person you could have ever thought of having a life with, even before all this Born King shite. The answer is ‘yes.’ It had always been. 

“Yes?” He repeats with furrowed brows, not sure he’s heard you correctly.  “I’ll stay” —you reach to comb your fingers through his close-shorn beard, and he leans into the touch— “with you.” Forever.

He smiles, and it’s as though a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Arthur cradles your face in his hands, thumbs running over your cheekbones. You smile for him, and he leans toward you, closing the distance. His lips are on yours in an instant.

You answer his kiss, slowly at first, then with more fervor when you settle your hands on either side of his neck, drawing yourself closer. Parting, you press your forehead against his and meet his heated stare. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that?” Arthur asks, breathless.

Then he’s kissing you again and again—hands straying to your waist and backside, pulling you closer, tighter. And it fans the embers burning low in your belly to flames. Arthur breaks the kiss with an anguished groan—fighting a losing war with himself. He brushes back the hair falling in front of your face, the rough pad of his thumb running over your lips. “Tell me to stop,” he mutters—it’s almost a plea. And then he’s adrift in your soft and dark gaze, knowing if you do nothing to stop this, he’ll be acting on countless years of love and pent-up desire.

“No,” you breathe, catching his wrist and sliding his hand up from your neck—peppering his fingertips with gentle kisses. He watches you, lips parted and heart aching. Closing your eyes, you draw in a slow breath, and with a final kiss to his palm, you guide his hand to rest on one of your clothed breasts.

“Arthur.” You speak his name as though it is a quiet prayer. “I want you.” He pulls on the string at the neck of your nightshirt, loosening it until the gauzy material falls off your shoulders—puddling around your ankles, 

Though bare, you still hold his clear blue gaze. He goes silent as he draws in a sharp breath—eyes dart over the length of your body. His eyes darken, though, a mix of lust and adoration. “Think this is the longest you’ve been qui–” He cuts you off with a kiss, and one of his hands rises to cradle your cheek—the side of your neck again—and his lips coax yours open.

You sigh into his mouth, hands instinctively dipping under the hem of his roughspun tunic, fingertips trailing over the taut muscles of his abdomen and the scar on his ribs. Arthur breaks the kiss, quickly shrugging off his shirt, and lets the undyed piece of wool fall to the floor.  

Then, suddenly, he lifts you off your feet effortlessly. You hastily grip his shoulders for balance until he lays you on the bed—standing back to take off his trousers, and you watch him with a weird mixture of hunger and wistfulness as he strips. Arthur kicks aside his discarded clothes, then crawls onto the bed, making room for himself between your thighs—his clear and cold gaze burning with the warmth of the Sun and never once straying from yours.

You gaze tensely at his face as he studies you. His expression is greedy and appreciative, and the firelight glowing in his eyes just makes him look all the more ardent, and the longer he stares at you without doing anything, the more restless you are for him to act. You want his touch, his cock, his lips on yours, and all he’s giving you is this appreciative greedy stare, and it’s not enough.

Arthur kisses you again, and then he leans away from your lips and kisses the angle of your jaw. His mouth travels to the side of your neck, and your pulse flutters in your throat. His lips are surprisingly soft, and as his mouth trails from your neck to your collarbone, the delicacy of his kisses makes you feel lightheaded —a mix of pleasure and disbelief. 

He nuzzles your collarbone, then places a kiss just above the swell of your breast, and you arch helplessly toward his mouth. The heat of his breath wafting over your breast, making your nipples go taut with anticipation, and when the scruff of Arthur’s beard brushes over your nipple, you jolt and make a helpless little mewling sound. You twine your fingers into his golden hair, trying to hold him in place against you. But Arthur shoots you a quick smile, then shuffles lower on the bed still and kisses your breast —and you twist your hips, hands slipping from his hair to his shoulders.  

A sob leaves your throat—not a crying kind of sob, but an instinctive noise tore from your throat without your permission. He lifts his mouth from your breast and smiles at you, and you stare stupidly at his handsome face—the spark in his clear eyes and the boyish smirk twisting his lips.

Arthur palms your breast and squeezes gently. He shuffles lower still on the bed and places a sweet, open-mouthed kiss on your navel, and your sense of surreal disbelief ratchets to a nearly unbearable degree. His mouth drifts lower now, the scruff of his beard tickling your belly as he presses his lips to the skin below your navel and eases your thighs further apart.

Arthur places a kiss between your legs, and your mind goes blank with pleasure. 

“You alright, darlin’?” He smirks. You stare at him, too stunned by pleasure to find a clever response. Instead, riled by the teasing sparkle in his face, you spread your knees wide. His gaze drops between your legs, and his expression darkens with interest as he places his hands on your knees—stroking up to your thighs. He places another firm, wet kiss between your legs, and a helpless moan leaves your lips, and he hums with approval, a smug, half-growly little hum.  

You gasp in a breath, realizing you haven’t been breathing at all. Arthur lifts his head to look you in the eye. “Relax, love,” he croons, smoothing his palm over your belly as he laps at your cunt with slow hot sweeping strokes of his tongue. It’s not long before a finger presses into you, working you slowly open.

Your hips jerk softly along with his movements, and there’s unspoken interest in his gaze as he stares down at you, relentless in his efforts to see you come undone. His tongue and lips are at your clit, fingers stroking and curling deep within you. You jolt, and then he moves slower, dragging over the sensitive spots he’s discovered inside you and leaving your nerves tingling with every touch.

Pleasure washes over you in waves, making your calves twitch, your fingertips feel numb, and that high-pitched mewling noise leaves your throat. Overwhelmed—enraptured—you buck your hips toward his face and clench your fingers convulsively in his hair, and he keeps licking and kissing you until you can’t take it anymore. You pull on his hair to stop him, and he finally pulls away, lips glistening in the moonlight and fading glow of the firelight. “Enough,” you groan. “Need you.” It’s nigh a broken plea.

You shudder as he moves, situating himself between your thighs, calloused fingers dipping into your cunt to gather your slick and spread on his hard cock as he strokes himself. “Arthur, please,” you whimper, impatient, and he won’t keep you waiting.

He slides his cock through your folds before his angle changes just slightly, and on the next pass, your breath stutters as his cockhead presses just inside you—barely splitting you open. Arthur’s hand grabs your hip and angles you up just a bit so he can slide deeper inside you, and you cling onto his biceps—feeling his scars press into your palms and admiring the way his muscles flex under your touch. 

Arthur hisses through his teeth when he fully seats himself inside your warmth, then releases his breath slowly and smiles at you. “You’re lovely,” he murmurs, twining his fingers through yours, pressing the back of your hands into the mattress. From the moment Arthur first saw you in the Londinium streets, he knew your fates were intertwined—just as your bodies and hands were now. He trembles at this personal heaven, then draws his hips back, starting to move.

You laugh breathlessly, mindlessly. “Charmer,” you pant, hooking your legs around his waist. You roll into his thrusts, pulling him deeper. His ragged breaths and grunts mingle with your sighs of pleasure—panting scarcely keeping up with your racing heart. 

He huffs in amusement. “Can’t say that’s something I get called often,” Arthur says as he pumps his hips slowly, teasing you and pleasing you almost more than you can bear. Then he lowers his lips to yours in a kiss—there’s something sweet on his tongue, like honey wine. 

His whole body begins moving, surging, and writhing against yours. One of his hands releases yours and caresses your cheek before he slides it down your body. Without thought, your body arches into his hand as it moves, ripening under his touch—thoughts clouded by lust and love. His fingers find your clit at the same time his mouth latches to your neck.

Another guttural cry bursts from your lips. He’s pounding into you now, and he’s still holding your hand while his other grips your hip. Your breathing is loud, and so is his, and his hand is tightening on your fingers. He drags in a breath, then expels it in a strained groan.

He shudders, then pounds into you hard, twice, thrice, and then he pauses with his cock deep inside of you. His jaw clenches, and his grip on your hip is so tight that it’s almost painful, but you like it—just as much as you like the guttural sound he makes as he shudders in completion. A few long seconds later, he gasps in a breath, then sighs and releases your hand. “Fuck,” he groans, holding his weight above you on shaking arms. 

You beckon him to lie atop you, his golden head pillowed on your breasts as his breathing steadies, sighing when you kiss his hair and whisper a quiet, I love you, for him to relish. He stays sheathed inside your warmth, unwilling to part just yet. “I love you,” he murmurs in turn, never tiring of how you smile when he says the words. Sighing, he rolls to the side, and you whine at the loss of him and the empty feeling between your thighs.

He lays on his side, and you pillow your head on his outstretched arm, nuzzling close against his chest and threading one of your legs through his. Arthur presses his cheek to the crown of your head and strokes your hair as the first dregs of daylight break over the horizon, shining upon England, Camelot, and his future wife and queen.

[Forever taglist: @certifiedlittleshit / @erzsebetrosztoczy / @hereforreadandwrite / @mrsragnarlodbrok / @rigshak ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my forever taglist, or any other character/fandom taglist, just let me know with this Google Form!

#King Arthur #King Arthur x Reader #Arthur Pendragon #King Arthur Legend of the Sword #King Arthur: Legend of the Sword #Charlie Hunnam #Charlie Hunnam Fanfiction #Charlie Hunnam Fanfic #my writing #wow i havent written and posted anything in a while #yet again im blaming you for this claire lol #how about we all petition to get this movie the sequel it deserved #also 10 points if you can spot the rdr2 reference

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

svt gym rat bf things

I am re-starting my fitness journey, and what better to motivate me than being a casual (worrying) level of obsessed with svt. So yeah once again no one asked for this but here we are, writing it anyway

Warnings: some slightly suggestive material, going to the gym/fitness/working out is the topic, meals and eating mentioned

seungcheol

-he is 100% using any gym time with you to show off/impress you/remind you he's ya man, the most overtly sexy of the gym bfs

-likes to hold eye contact while he does hip thrusts. if he's really feeling it he'll get the weights as close to your actual weight as possible, looking at you while he stacks them all up.

-the BELT FLICKS.......the belt flicks. he does it on purpose. and by god you’re grateful.

-shamelessly ogles you the whole time

-he will slap your butt after spotting you for squats and call it his boyfriend tax

-knows you think he's sexy when he works his arms or chest so he always calls you over to spot and then smirks when you get flustered

-but he doesn’t anticipate how desperately whipped he becomes watching you work out (the post lift cardio session is always of a very specific genre if u know what I mean)

-also is a sucker for you in gym clothes and buys you new gym fits every other week

jeonghan

-only wants to go if you're going (poor boy is tired)

-really good at spotting though, always there to help if you need

-easily impressed when you do anything even remotely cool or beat your pr

-spends most of the time talking to you while you work out

-gets flustered when you do something he finds attractive but will NEVER admit it and tries to play it cool

-when he does finally get to the workout you are disgusted by how much bigger his arms are than yours

-i just know he got a fire gym playlist with barbiecore songs bc they get him hyped

joshua

-subtle flirting in the gym is this man's love language

-meets eyes with you and winks across the squat rack, "accidentally" grabs the same weight and your hands touch and he looks up at you all dramatically, leans against the mirror to chat you up

-all smiles even when he's lifting something really heavy if you're there

-makes a plan beforehand for what you're both working that day and checks in with you periodically to see how you're doing

-does silly dances to his gym playlist to make you laugh

-gives you hugs no matter how sweaty you are

-makes sure you push yourself just enough but never too hard

-the gym selfie king -- and he knows all your best angles

jun

-working out with him is a hazard because he always makes you laugh mid lift and you nearly drop what you're holding

-big proponent of stretching but mostly because he likes to see how flexible you are because he is a heaux

-he is also pretty dedicated to his workouts and knows how to keep on task at the gym, but thinks it's cute if you're bouncing off the walls a little

-switches earbuds with you while working out and then judges you when half of it is music he's a featured artist in

-he will challenge you to fake dance battles

-sneaks lil kisses between sets

hoshi

-cannot contain himself because YOU CAME TO THE GYM WITH HIM, goes way too hard, and complains for the next four days about how sore he is

-"races" you on the treadmill

-takes his shirt off because "he got too sweaty" but then gets suspiciously excited when you stare at him or compliment him

-you catch him staring at you all the time

-does his squats RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE and then looks over his shoulder at u like "what r u looking at? perv"

-will do every single gym couples challenge with you, sends you videos throughout the week being like "we should try this"

wonwoo:

-another tired boy, but he does plan what he's going to work out at the gym every time and appreciates you following his schedule with him to keep each other on track

-workouts are usually not aerobic heavy so there's a lot of eye contact with him too

-cannot keep a smile off his face when you hype him up while he lifts, which is almost reason enough for him to do it

-is also super encouraging -- when you're challenging yourself to do something you've never done or trying to break a pr he's always so supportive and sweet

-lets you pick out matching gym fits to wear and always loves how happy you get when he comes out in his

jihoon:

-this man is the ultimate gym buddy and personal trainer

-if u express even a vague interest in working out he will sit you down to discuss goals and expectations and then come to your first gym session with a written, illustrated schedule targeting your specific body type & goals

-meal preps for u :(:(:(:(

-THE BEST spotter and also why do i feel like he has weird amounts of chiropractic knowledge and will be able to help you stretch SO well

-you can ask him any question about any workout and he knows the answer

-for some reason being in the gym with jihoon is so romantic to me like??? i feel like he'd be spotting you while you lift and he'd just lightly touch your arms to steady you and you'd be a blushing mess and so would he and then you'd go make out after

-worried you’re gonna get hurt so it’s sometimes hard for him to complete his workouts bc he’s watching your form

seokmin:

-going to the gym with seokmin would be a disaster in the best way

-will you work out? yes

-will it mostly be your abs, from laughing at him the entire time? also yes

-he will do bicep curls at you AGGRESSIVELY while he blasts careless whisper over the gym speakers

-his squats are all excuses to throw it back/twerk into you

-is also down for a couples challenge or two

-would be very complimentary of your muscles even if you don't feel like they're that good

-counts down your reps in a silly voice

-he ALSO has really good belt flicks but kind of by accident, and when he catches you blushing he'll tease you about it

mingyu:

-another elite-level gym buddy bf

-does love shots with your preworkout & makes the BEST post-gym meals

-he would also totally be that guy who has you kneel on his feet when he does sit-ups or lay beneath him while he does pushups so he can kiss you every time

-he is also an ogler. he will stare shamelessly at your butt as you walk by

-you might try to do a couples challenge once, but he's clumsy af and it didn't end well so you vowed never to do it again

-he's just a big baby so every time you exclaim over how nice his body is he'll get all shy

-also of course this man is posting up in a backwards baseball cap, a black skintight shirt, and gray sweatpants ON PURPOSE but he'll pretend he doesn't know he's committing literal crimes

-enthusiastically encourages you “one more rep babe one more you got this YEAHHHHH”

minghao:

-i see him more as a yoga/barre guy than a lifting guy

-also very good at stretching you out

-gets embarrassed when you watch him push through a difficult workout bc you're practically drooling at how attractive it is

-but he's also surprisingly goofy in the gym with you and makes sure you’re both having a good time

-loves to do those couple yoga poses and couple stretches

-also is down to help you with boxing or jiu jitsu moves

-post-gym glow is real on minghao

-hard to keep ur hands off each other after you get home hehehehehehehe

seungkwan:

-leg day is every day. so many squats are being done

-he also makes you laugh a lot

-for any aerobic workouts you are either getting in the pool with the grannies for water aerobics or ur doing Zumba there is no in between

-takes you on runs to beautiful spots in the city

-gets competitive about working out with you so if you do more reps than him or run a lil faster he pushes himself too hard

-is always prepared: the night before, he’ll set out your gym clothes, fill your water bottle and put it in the fridge, portion out the preworkout, etc

vernon:

-wants to share gym playlists, so he has one earbud of yours in the gym at all times

-surprises himself with how much he’s staring at you because wow he likes you in that tight shirt and leggings

-I can see him being really methodical about working out, so he kinda gets lost in it and forgets you’re alive, until you do your little dances around him

-he loves it when you show off for him so he can compliment you bc he’s kind of shy to do it without a reason bc then he’d have to admit how much he’s forgetting to work out because he’s paying attention to you

-gives you kisses to congratulate you when you reach milestones

chan

-he would also be elite level gym buddy bf

-uses gentle hands to correct your form if he’s worried you’re gonna hurt yourself 🫠

-he is also goofy in the gym but he also knows exactly when to be serious

-almost more committed to your goals than you are and goes buck wild when you reach a goal of any sort bc he is AN ADORABLE CUTIEPIE

-it’s the little things for him — like when you hum along to the song in your ears when you’re re-racking the smaller weights, he’s just so smitten with you

-idk why but I feel that he would be so good to you when you’re feeling that post gym soreness. he’s on that draw you an epsom salt bath, give you a massage, bring you Gatorade type beat

#seventeen #svt #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt reactions #maybe it’s just me but this makes it really easy to tell who my bias is #gym rat svt supremacy

[starogeorgina]

White knight

Paring: Criston Cole × OC

Warnings: Swearing, violence, age gap

1.03

You scream as pain radiates through your body as you’re thrown to the ground, landing on your hands and knees at the bottom of the stairs in front of the iron throne. You wipe the blood from your bleeding lip with the back of your hand before glaring up at Aegon.

Aegon’s eyes were bloodshot, no doubt from crying and all the alcohol he had consumed. His eldest son, Jaehaerys, had been slaughtered during the night, and the greens believed your mother was behind it, making you guilty by association. You’d only found out about the attack when Aemond dragged you out of the quarters you're staying in by the hair to the throne room, while guards and many onlookers proclaimed you were the daughter of Rhaenyra the cruel.

After a few tense moments of silence, Aegon finally spoke. “I’ve ordered for all the city’s rat-catchers to be hanged for their part in the crime committed against my family. What do you propose I do with you? The daughter of a w—”

“My mother never did this! She would never harm a child!”

“Silence!” Alicent snaps. You take in the dowager queen’s appearance, and never before have you seen a woman look so defeated. Her once soft features now bore the etchings of the horror she had witnessed.

Tears fall from your eyes, and your hand claps against your chest as you take deep breaths. The room was full of guards and green council members, none of whom would ever believe that your mother was innocent. Aegon begins listing different ways he could kill you, but instead of being frightened, you laugh.

“You don’t fear death?”

“No, I don’t...” Your voice trembles, but you find the strength to no longer be scared. “When I die, I’ll be reunited with my sweet brother, Lucerys, and my father... I’ll be at home with him, and he’ll keep me safe. And when I see my grandsire, your father, again, I’ll make sure to tell him that you’re nothing but a usurping cunt!”

One of the guards slaps you hard across the face, then again, and then a third time.

Ser Criston, who had remained silent previously, clears his throat and steps forward. He bows his head to Aegon and says, “If I may share a thought, my king.”

“You are the hand of the king, Ser Criston; you may always speak freely.”

Your stomach drops.

“Your grace.” Criston bows his head again before glancing down at you. “I don’t believe the blacks are behind this attack. Rhaenyra wouldn’t risk her only living daughter's life by doing something so horrific; she would be fully aware of what the consequences of her actions are.”

A dark chuckle passes Aemond’s lips. “Perhaps the whore doesn’t care for her bastards as much as she claims.”

Fury builds inside you. You open your mouth to cuss your uncle out, but just as the venomous words are about to come out, you meet Criston's gaze, and he subtly shakes his head. Silently telling you to hold your tongue, so you say nothing.

Alicent lets out a deep sigh. “There is no denying Rhaenyra loves her children.”

“And what am I supposed to do with her now?” Aegon asks, sounding more like a spoiled child than a man supposed to be ruling a kingdom.

Criston motions for two guards. “Take the princess to her quarters, and do not let anyone in or out aside from her lady-in-waiting.”

The two guards nod before turning, each roughly grabbing an arm and forcefully pulling you to your feet and out of the room.

—

Goosebumps spread across your body while you heard your name mentioned again. The lady-in-waiting explained to the knight that you were refusing to come out of the now cold bath. The room was dark aside from the burning candles, which were soon to go out.

Seconds later, the door to the room opens, and Ser Criston storms towards you.

“Get out, you traitorous bastard!”

Criston keeps his eyes averted from your naked form, walking by the bath to reach the chair that your robe hung over. He picks it up and tosses it to you. “Get up now!”

You remain in the water.

“Princess,” he snaps. “If you don’t get out of the water, I will drag you from the bath myself.”

Letting out a huff, you stand up and wrap the damp robe around your body before stepping out of the tub. Your foot starts to slip on the wet floor, but Criston grabs you before you fall. Your back was now pressed against his armored chest, and his breathing was heavy as he pulled you in closer to him. Criston's arm was wrapped around your front, holding you in place.

“Princess, if-”

“You’re worse than them, you know that?” You hiss, “You were supposed to protect my mother! Instead, you’ve helped to steal her crown and tear her family apart. You know nothing of loyalty!”

You wiggle in Criston's grip, trying to get free of his hold, but your strength is nothing compared to that of the knights. His lips ghosting your ear as he speaks in a low voice: “You were never supposed to be at Rook’s rest, and you've no idea of the things I’ve done to keep you safe. I became the king's new hand, so I could be closer to him. I’m the one who informed your mother and Daemon of the Triarchy.”

He finally lets you go, and as you stumble forward, you quickly tighten your robe that has become loose. Tears of anger spring to your eyes. You take a deep breath and turn back to face Criston. “Why would you do that?”

“To save your brothers.”

You shake your head; this was a trick. Nothing but a cruel trick. “Why? Why would you care what happens to them? You’ve spent years calling them bastards, so don’t pretend to care now.”

Criston takes a step closer to you, causing you to go back in time until you bump into one of the tables. “Because years ago, I promised Princess Rhaenyra that I’d protect her children above all else.”

“No, you're lying.”

The room falls into complete darkness as the last candle burns out. Your heart races in your chest as you try to get your bearings as your eyes adjust. You're taken aback when Criston's hot breath fans across your face.

“I’ve told many lies, but trying to protect you has never been one of them.”

Your mind feels fuzzy as Criston’s soft lips crash against your own.

#house of the dragon #ser criston cole x you #criston cole x you #Criston Cole #Ser Criston Cole #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #Criston Cole/you #Ser Criston Cole/you #Criston Cole x oc #Criston Cole x fem oc #ser criston cole x oc #Criston Cole/oc

[the-insouciant-scientist]

Coins of the Neath! This is only about half of the project I have planned, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to show off what I have so far.

Descriptions and explanations under the cut!

Top left is a First City Coin. Described in game as having a cedar on one side, and a circle of script around either a face in profile, a pair of eyes, or an image of the Bazaar on the other side. The script is a mix of proto-cuneiform, archaic Sumerian ideograms/pictograms, and symbols of my own design, and is intended to translate more-or-less to "The Masters approach/bind the King to divide the earth, to guard his prince's heart. The Bazaar's oath to see the sun is the foundation and the destiny". It's roughly the story of the First City's fall, and the Bazaar's quest. The face is based on some representations of Gilgamesh, as a reference to May.

Top right is Hinterland Scrip. In game it appears to be more the paper money kind of scrip, but I'm from a coal and steel industry city and go nuts for scrip coinage, so this was a little self indulgent. It's a 50¢ coin since one scrip is about equal to 50p in game. The naming of the fake company is mostly just me wanting to both include hinterland in the name, and not have to cram in "the great hellbound railway company" on such a small coin lmao. 1899 is a personal reference to when I unlocked the railway. The punch design is a reference to FB's logo.

Center is a rat shilling! Not uh, technically coins, but I wanted to draw a rat. They're described in game as a flat piece of metal, sometimes a button, with a rat face scratched into one side and a knot of tails scratched into the other. One side reads "valid until no longer valid", which I find absolutely hysterical. I tried to invoke a kind of rostygold color to this one, since that's what it reverts to when the rat market closes.

Middle right is a Justificande coin. They aren't described very much in game, just that they're seven sided and say "one day you will forgive" on the back. So I took a lot of artistic liberties with this one! The seven headed serpent and roses are both very common Iremi symbols, so it made sense to me that they'd be featured on their currency.

Bottom left is a Fourth City Echo. Described in game as having a familiar profile of a spire on one side, and hudum writing on the other. Talking to the Numismatrix gives you further info that the writing is a promise for repayment, and a warning against using any other currency. I had to translate this through two different translators in order to get traditional hudum script (they use Mongolian Cyrillic nowadays more commonly) so it may not be perfectly accurate, but from left to right it should read "One Echo. The Only Currency."

And then bottom right is an Amber Ha'Penny. They're described as being tiny, sticky, and stamped with the image of a chain. It's supposed to be the same image of a chain on both sides, one being broken and one being forged, but I decided to have the sides slightly vary to reflect that better.

#fallen london #fallen london fanart #art #the scientist scribbles #coins

[whyse7vn]

BLOOD SISTERS -

[ot7 x reader]

3D?????????

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

hobi: i heard vogue paid jungkook in cheese

namjoon: what?

jk: yes

namjoon: WHAT???

jimin: you did a shoot for vogue and got paid in cheese?????

yoongi: is that legal?

tae: are u a rat?

jin: i know a rat…

tae: YOU SHUT UR MOUTH

jk: i like cheese

y/n: put his vouge money in a savings account don’t worry

jimin: you robbed jungkook???

y/n: can you read??

it’s in a savings account

jimin: ur savings account?

y/n: no

jk: i got cheese

y/n: i gave him the cheese

namjoon: jungkook are you ok with her doing that?

jk: yes

i got cheese

y/n: SEE HES OK WITH IT STOP TRYING TO MAKE THE VILLAN HERE!

hobi: why did you do that tho?

y/n: are we forgetting that jungkook literally spent like 500k on a framed picture of the avengers

tae: that picture was cool asf who was the artist?

jk: google

tae: what?

jk: google

tae: oh

y/n: see

yoongi: yikes

jimin: was the cheese good?

jk: yes

i miss it

wish i could have more

🥺

y/n: i am not giving you more cheese

jin: didn’t he say he was lactose intolerant?

jk: i’m so upset rn

hobi: anyway ur vogue pictures were cool

jk: ok

can i have cheese

y/n: say thank you to hobi

jk: thank u to hobi

yoongi: is he high?

y/n: extremely

tae: WITHOUT ME?????

FAKE LOVE FAKE WORLD

jin: playing with my clit rn

y/n: what the actual fuck

namjoon: what possessed you to say that

jk: YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

JIN A GIRL???????????????

jin: was that not relatable to you y/n?

don’t you feel comfortable?

y/n: no wtf???

i’m extremely uncomfortable rn

jin: ok kill yourself then

read a weverse comment that said you probably feel so uncomfortable and can’t relate to anyone cuz ur surrounded by men all the time

tried to help you

that is the last nice thing i do for you

jimin: wow i never thought about that

let’s all see how far we can squirt guys come on for y/n ❤️

yoongi: can you stop

jk: i’m gonna win

y/n: u all make me want to throw up

tae: no cuz let’s have a period together #bloodsisters

namjoon: that is not how it works

hobi: i’m bleeding real bad rn >.<

jimin: super slay!!!

yoongi: super slay?

tae: slay my pussy ong

y/n: ENOUGH

tae: i love being a woman

jk: i want to seduce the king

jin: you can’t

i’m not into u at all

jk: ur no king of mine

tae: jungkook can you come over please i’m lonely

jimin: is this how you text your hoes?

tae: no only my bros 🫶🏻🥺

jk: i can’t tae :(

tae: why wtf

jk: too much cheese

tae: ?

jk: i can’t move

yoongi: pretty sure that’s the weed

jin: or maybe he’s shitting himself

cheese does that

not speaking from experience btw

jk: no

y/n: so how is everyone today?

jimin: don’t talk to me

tae: i’m still bleeding

jk: sometimes i imagine i’m a tiny little elf that works in the back of a coal mine just mining away but the coal mine is actually yoongi’s head an i’m inside it mining him new knowledge he can learn and after i mine the knowledge i give it to the other elves and they give it to the brain

hobi: are tiny and little not the same thing you did not need to use both those words

jk: soz

yoongi: why me

leave me alone

namjoon: i could be better tbh y/n

jimin: can we talk about how jungkooks new song

jk: do you like it?

namjoon: it’s not out yet

jk: do you like it?

namjoon: it is not out yet jungkook

jk: is it good?

jin: ur a slut

dare i say whore

jk: don’t dare

y/n: double dare

tae: i double dare you to come to my house

jk: :0

jin: like guys do you understand like jungook is a whore

A WHORE

yoongi: ok

jin: I CANT TAKE IT LIKE YOU WANT TO SEE WHAT IN 3D???

WHAT IN MOTION???

UR SICK UR NOT RIGHT AT ALL

STOP IT

STOP IT NOW

y/n: it’s okay

jin: ITS NOT

jk: who is 3d

tae: the jack harlow feature is crazy tho

yoongi: it’s really not

stop putting white men the world doesn’t care about anymore on your songs

hobi: spilled

jk: i’m not white

do people think i’m white

do they not care for me due to my whiteness

am i white?

??????????

oh my god i’m white

namjoon: you are not white

jk: namjoon said i’m not white

tae: namjoon is your white father

jk: OHMYGOD

jimin: what inspired 3d jungkook?

jk: y/n 🥰💜💗💗🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

y/n: ????????????????????

jimin: LMAOAOSOOOOOOOOOOO

hobi: oh wow

yoongi: what

namjoon: okay!

jin: IM GONNA KILL MYSELF UR SICK

tae: wow i didn’t know you got down like that kookie

#respect

yoongi: did you just say #respect

tae: yeah?

u wish you could right a sex song about my amazing beautiful girl like jungkook did

fucking mad loser bitch

hobi: *write

tae: wait

??

something is not right there

🤨

idk what it is

but i know it’s not right

hobi: maybe it’s because you used rigjt instead of write

tae: maybe

namjoon: ur so fucking stupid it hurts

tae: or maybe not

jk: what is going on

jin: THATS WHAT IM SAYING

YOUVE CHANGED JK YOUVE CHANGED AND I FEAR ITS FOR THE WORST

jk: i was talking about the aliens

idk what ur saying to me right now

y/n: WHY IS IT ABOUT ME??

hobi: clearly he kisses and tells

y/n: THERE IS NOTHING TO TELL

yoongi: clearly there is

wrote a whole song about it

jimin: at least you know you got good pussy!!

tae: me 2!

namjoon: can we not

tae: we can

im in my girl era

feminism in my boobs blood in my vagina

hobi: you take things too far..

tae: ok but it’s natural??

fucking men man i can’t do this y/n are you with me baby

y/n: stop talking for 5 minutes omg

tae: okay!

jk: do the aliens have drivers licenses

jimin: when’s the last time you fucked be honest

namjoon: why are you so invested in her sex life it’s real concerning

jimin: cuz it’s interesting????

like live a little joon jeez

y/n: WE HAVENT FUCKED IN LIKE

yoongi: like?

hobi: like

jin: you turned him into a whore i know it was you

jimin: see mr kim namjoon

interesting

namjoon: ur just starting unwanted issues

jimin: IN LIKE???

come on spit it out we don’t have all day

y/n: i don’t have to answer that

yoongi: shocker

y/n: excuse me??

jimin: YIKESSSSSSSSSSSS

hobi: i can’t look

tae: wait she’s fr fucking jungkook no joke this is fr?

thought this was a joke the whole time

are we all on the same page rn???

jk: i think if we think about it we are the aliens to the aliens so if you think about it do we have drivers licenses?

namjoon: it’s like we run in circles every single day

yoongi: nothing

just know why you’ve been ignoring me for the last month now lol

hobi: he added the lol

wow he’s pissed

jimin: INSANE

jin: YOUVE BEEN FUCKING JUNGKOOK THIS WHOLE MONTH UR NASTY LEAVE HIM ALONE LEAVE HIMMM

namjoon: i’m going to shoot you all

y/n: so it’s clearly not “nothing” yoongi

and in the gc are you fr?

yoongi: whatever

y/n: and i haven’t been ignoring you i’m talking you right now aren’t i?

yoongi: this is different

jimin: he’s basically saying you haven’t been fucking with him for a whole month cuz ur too busy with jungkook

hobi: maybe he’s having withdrawals

namjoon: i think she gets it

tae: can i fuck pls

y/n: ur being really childish rn yoongi

yoongi: that’s crazy cuz that’s how you like your men no?

hobi: WOWWWW

jimin: JUNGKOOK SHADE

jk: hiiiiii 🫶🏻🔥

y/n: and not that i need to tell you but i haven’t slept with ANYONE for like 2 months

i’ve been really busy filming and shit

fucking asshole

yoongi: oh

jin: wait no sex for 2 months that’s kinda insane icl 😭

jimin: YOONGI FUCKED UPPP TEAAA

hobi: pussywhipped 💀

tae: CAN I FUCK PLEASE

namjoon: enough sex talk please

before i grab a gun

tae: what type

ak?

glock?

shotgun???

yoongi: y/n

jk: why are we fighting??????

jin: don’t worry son

jk: papa 🥺

jin: no sorry i can’t actually claim you i’m over you being a whore i just remembered how fucking annoying you are yikes

am i the high one??

wow wtf was i stressing over

yoongi: y/n

jimin: me when i fuck up

hobi: yoongi the sad ant with the stick rn

jimin: HELPJSJDJDJXJ YOU RIGHT

“y/n….”

hobi: HEHEHEHEHE

*single tear rolls down cheek*

jimin: *screen fades to black*

hobi: LMAOOOOOO

jimin: STOPWOWOSOSSK

namjoon: guys

y/n: anyways

jimin: no because i stand with you feminist till i die

hobi: i’m such a feminist i enjoy looking at wonho as much as cows eat grass

and that’s like all the time

right?

jimin: right!!!!

jk: where is my papa

jin: ew

he’s so gross guys

y/n: don’t be mean he’s just under the influence!!

jin: of what? meth?

people high off weed are not freaks like him i’m telling you he does that hardcore shit just like joon

jk: papa joon

namjoon: stop

tae: i stabbed myself with a fork

pain is temporary

i needed it ❤️

namjoon: i need it

jin: ???

yoongi: i’m sorry

y/n: k

jimin: wow this is not awkward at all!

jk: i’m throwing up

jin: this is the 4th time this week

jk: papa

namjoon: how is he still alive

hobi: y/n feminist to feminist rn i say fuck yoongi and like come kiss me

yoongi: can you shut the fuck up

jk: i love you yoongi

yoongi: go away

jimin: can you guys not be boyfriends inlaw or something

yoongi: i’m going to punch you

jimin: ok i am going to stop talking now!

—

bonus:

#bts crack #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts fic #bts text #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #namjoon x reader #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts texts #rm x reader #suga x reader #v x reader #jhope x reader #hobi x reader #bts fake chats #bts incorrect texts

[sickviking-fr]

With the attention Disney is getting recently, a resurgence of posts bemoaning their live action remakes and a return of The Muppet Post, I feel the time is right to share again my idea for a Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood live action remake featuring:

Lust, played by Miss Piggy

Envy, played by Pepe the Prawn

Pride, played by Fozzie Bear

Greed, played by Rizzo the Rat

Father (and Van Hohenheim) played by Sam the Eagle

Gluttony, played by The Swedish Chef

Sloth, played by Sweetums

Wrath, aka Fuhrer King Bradley played by Liam Neeson

#yes i DO accept constructive criticism #yes DO suggest any alternates #yes PLEASE tell me who you would cast as the other characters #WHO would play Scar?? #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fma #fmab #fma: brotherhood #fma:b #muppets #the muppets #ed NEEDS to be played by a human character to really set home the point of Sam the fucking Eagle as his dad #thats a necessity

[galinbookshelf]

Sweet new harem anime idea featuring hot babes rat king

#traditional sketch #traditional art #rat king

[rpgsandbox]

The Crooked Moon is a 400+ page tome that brings Folk Horror to 5E, drawing inspiration from eerie Folklore, legendary Horror Films, classic Halloween Aesthetics, and more. Evoke true terror with malevolent Monsters and Mechanics in a Campaign Setting of eternal night, or equip yourself with numerous Player Options to brave the dark wood. 

Weave Your Own Dreadful Folktale

The perfect supplement to craft an Unforgettable Folk Horror Adventure with your friends.

Sinister Campaign Setting

Explore Druskenvald, a mysterious realm trapped between dusk and the witching hour. Investigate the isolated valley of Wickermoor Hollow, where Superstitious Locals adhere to “The Old Ways” and Long-Forgotten Horrors stalk the deepest woods.

Terrifying Adventure for Levels 1-13 

Send shivers down your friends' spines with this chilling Folk Horror Story, where a party of Wayward Souls must journey through the shroud aboard the Ghostlight Express to uncover the dark machinations of the Crooked Man.

All-New "Fateweaving" System

Enthrall your friends with brand-new tools to Intertwine Player Character Backstories and Motivations into the main narrative. With this easy-to-use system, players will be More Invested Than Ever Before knowing that the fate of their characters is personally connected to the major plot of the adventure from the very start.

Brave the Dark Wood

All the player options you need to become the protagonist of your own Damnable Tale. 

Dreadful Subclasses

Become an omen of doom with the Grim Harbinger Ranger, harness the power of witchcraft with the Horned King Patron Warlock, roll the bones and twist fate with the Sinner Rogue, or dive into horror with any of the other 13+ Subclass Options for all core 5E classes. 

Halloween-Themed Races

Rise again as one of 13+ Lineages of Druskenvald, mortal souls reborn in the land of endless night and changed forever. Choose between the pumpkin-headed Harvestborn, the rat-like Plagueborn, the murk-dwelling Deepborn, or any of the other Race Options inspired by Halloween pop culture.

Upgrading Artifact Items

Equip yourself with 25+ Artifacts of Anathema, powerful Magical Items ranging from weapons to armor to trinkets and more that Level Up With You and unlock Powerful New Abilities, perfect for every tier of play.

Beware the Witching Hour

Unique features sure to add Thrills and Chills to any game, no matter your setting.

Folklore-Inspired Monsters

Face off against creatures of the night with 66+ Folkloric Monsters that require more than basic combat to defeat. Investigate local Myths and Legends, discover Secrets and Superstitions, and Perform Rituals in thrilling encounters beyond just rolling for initiative. 

Legendary Boss Battles

Charge into brutal battles with 11+ Epic Boss Fights, each with Multiple Phases and unique mechanics for Minions, Terrain, and More that will test your party’s courage, tactics, and will to survive.  

Chaotic Curses

Torment your friends by cursing them with 120+ Twists of Dread, random effects that range from Horrifying to Hilarious, keeping any tabletop session Totally Unpredictable and endlessly entertaining.

Kickstarter campaign ends: Thu, November 2 2023 4:00 AM UTC +00:00

Website: [Legends of Avantris] [facebook] [twitter] [instagram]

#RPG #kickstarter #Dungeons and Dragons #The Crooked Moon #Legends of Avantris

[powdermelonkeg]

Assorted Post-TotK Spirit Tracks AU thoughts:

The main technology you use is the Robbie Rucksack—mirroring the Purah Pad, Purah did most of the designing, but Robbie got to name it. Turnabout is fair play.

It gets upgraded as you go with more and more features, like a grappling hook, paraglider wings, a dowsing rod, etc.

Its most important feature, though, is the ability to switch tracks (hence locking Link into a specific rail until Zelda joins his side).

Link is piloting the first ever engine in the modern day, the Sheikah Engine. The tutorial segment is him driving it to Lookout Landing Station, so Zelda can name him Hyrule’s first official engineer.

The cannon you get later is actually a guardian laser.

The Railway Tower is the central hub for the rails that spread across Hyrule initially. Purah runs it.

Beneath it, in the Depths, Josha (now 16, eagerly talks about taking a trip to Mt. Lanayru on her birthday) has excavated what looks to be some kind of seal. Onlooker in the ZST crowd seems unusually interested and lavishes Link with an absurd amount of praise.

Shortly after the ceremony, Josha rushes in and says there’s an emergency. Right then, something BURSTS out of the ground beneath the tower, shattering it to smithereens—Purah barely escapes. The stone tower dwarfs the other rail towers around Hyrule in size, reaching from the Depths all the way up to the Sky. Link has to use it to switch his train between map layers.

Calling it the Spirit Spire. It’s full of Phantoms and poes.

Zelda gets her body stolen (expected)

Link gets the Master Sword stolen (NOT expected; snuck up on by Byrne a la Ganondorf vs Sonia). After all, a king revived deserves a fitting weapon.

At the bottom of the Spirit Spire, in the Depths, Link gets the Phantom Flute. Various functions of the tower are enabled by flute song.

Zelda’s spirit can be seen by the Sages, Impa, and Link—nobody else. But she accompanies you and comments on a LOT

Phantom Zel is scared of Keese (same way ST Phantom Zel is scared of rats, reference TotK first battle)

Phantom Zel can go anywhere in the Depths, but she loses her armor in the light.

Spirit form Zel can also take control of certain mechanisms, unlock things for you, phase through walls, etc.

Bringing Zelda to a bargainer statue has the statue reject her soul. It would disrupt the balance of the afterlife to take a soul while the body still breathes.

Tracks in the sky due to Spirit Spire

Remlit sanctuary > Rabbit sanctuary

References to other Zelda games like DLC outfits/items are accessed by playing those games’ songs. Stone walls have the song notes, you’re not taught them outright.

Opening scene is Link in his Tarrey Town house, getting woken up by Zelda who’s excited to see him drive.

Working title: Rails of the Realm

#zelda #loz #botw #totk #spirit tracks #concept #rails of the realm

[chocsra]

"A Waste of a Lovely Night, right?"

15! Chuuya x reader

Based off the song A Lovely Night because La La Land 😭🫶

Implied fem! reader

Content: swearing, being teenagers, classy romance, fluff, oneshot, mafia! reader, rivals to lovers?, pre-relationship, ooc? chuuya

Sorry for any grammar mistakes!

You were supposed to be basking in the evenings breeze, free from the loud screaming in one of the Port Mafia's luxurious parties; letting the wind lift your styled hair and fancy dress. Yet you find yourself standing like a solider under the night's sky, 'what the fuck' written all over your face.

There stood next to you, the former King of the Sheep; the king that claimed not to be the king everyone says he was. He was a smaller boy with orange hair about the same age as you, only recently joining the Port Mafia. His name was Chuuya Nakahara, you didn't seem to like him very much, and neither did he.

He always boasted and was blatantly arrogant because of his ability; gravity manipulation. The kid never stopped yapping and especially yelling; he and the Demon Prodigy made a scary but annoying team. It was always filled with complications, surface hatred and care; nothing you'd see in a regular friendship.

And you weren't sure why Chuuya didn't like you either, because you mostly stayed your own way in the mafia. Not your fault you're just good at what you do. Maybe it was the scowl on your face everytime he shouted at something so miniscule, or perhaps the snicker that pulled from your throat whenever you overheard the tall bandaged boy make fun of his height.

"What a sight," the boy smirked, his alluring blue eyes illuminating under the moonlight. He had his gloved hands stuffed in the pockets of his tailored suit, intaking the beauty of the city's skyline. You turn to look at him with predictability, eyes running across his sharp features and piercing gaze. He looked back at you, his gaze shifting towards your pearly white heels, then your frilled black dress; monotone enough to be considered mafia fashion. "too bad you're here." Chuuya's smirk disapated as he looked down at the concrete floor.

"Leave if you're so bothered then." You retort with a scoff, the redhead only looked at you with a cocked brow and turned to slowly walk away from you. "Nah." He replied, you knit your brows in response. Chuuya was right, the view was beautiful. The sun was nearly gone, city lights were starting to turn on, and the ocean below the hill you both stood on reflected the bright moonlight. You almost cursed at the swirling sky for granting such a sight to him; a cute, romantic couple would for sure enjoy this.

"Then don't complain." You put your hands on your hips and leaned forward with a scowl, making the boy chuckle stiffly in response. "Chill, I'm just saying.. the view is way too nice to be seen by us." he sighed, tapping his leather shoe on the concrete. "What a waste." Chuuya clicked his tongue; you got out of your position and stood straight, looking to the side, "I guess." you murmur, you two seemed to have the same thoughts. "Yeah, no offense, but you're just not my type." Chuuya sighed, kicking a rock softly as his hands were stuffed in his pockets. "Was that really necessary?" you scoff, folding your arms over your chest. The teenager chuckled and nodded.

"Well if you're gonna be like that, I'll say it first: you're not my type either, who even wears those rat ass fedoras these days?" you looked to the side, snickering a little. The boy adjusted his raven fedora, a light blush tinting his cheeks. "Don't come for the hat, dude." he mutters, brushing off some dirt off his black suit; he seemed to care a lot about his looks.

"Yeah, yeah," you laugh, watching him as he starts to slowly pace around the hill. "Actually, you're right. This would be nice for somebody who appreciates romantic scenery." You add on, looking over to the beautiful sea, Chuuya takes a seat on a wodden bench in the corner of your eye. "Oh yeah?" he inquires completely uninterested as he pulls out his phone.

"Mhm, just not with you." You say with a snicker, walking over to the boy scrolling on his phone, manspreading annoyingly in his black slacks. "Wow." he deadpans at your insult, ticking you off a little. "So you agree?" Chuuya asks, azure eyes finally gazing up to meet yours, you nod in agreement. "That's right." You smile begrudgingly. "What a waste of a lovely night." You heaved a sigh as you take a seat next to him, using your palm to steady yourself atop the wood; instead feeling fabric brushing under your fingers.

You looked over suspiciously, seeing your fingers tangled over the redheads. You both swat your hands away with pink spreading all over your cheeks. The boy's once bored eyes widened in surprise, looking into your shocked ones; he clutched onto his phone with his other gloved hand for dear life.

"Shit-"

Shit.

#Spotify #bsd #bungou stray dogs #15 chuuya #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #15 light novel bsd

[thelightfluxtastic]

The Crawler's Language

So I'm not a linguist by academic specialty but I am bilingual and fascinated by languages and every time I reread the Underland Chronicles I think about language and especially the Crawler's style of repetitive speech.

All of the species in the Underland have different speech patterns. The bats speak rarely, quietly, and in short sentences because it is physically difficult for them. The spinners speak through vibrations. The rats as a species are associated with humor, they're most likely to use sarcasm and constantly make jokes. But when all of these species do speak, they use the grammar and syntax common to human Underland English.

The exception is the crawlers, who have a distinct verbal quirk, saying things like: "Smells what, so good, smells what?" In this essay I am making basically two arguments:

The crawlers word order is completely normal for Underland English.

Often, when discussing the crawlers, the book narration will make a point of Gregor or others having to mentally re-order sentences to understand the bugs. But if you take out the repetition, Crawler sentences become things like:

"Smells what so good?" "Be she the princess?" "Hates us, the Overlander?" "Unless this be not the Cradle"

And this order that goes Verb-Object or Verb-Pronoun is not unusual for standard Underland English. Human and other characters throughout the books say things like: "Stop you. Stay you. Slow your hearts." (Ripred, Book 1) "Meet you Mareth and Perdita" (Dulcet, Book 1) "Gather us here for we must discuss" (Vikus, Book 1)

It's even baked in to the standard Underlander farewell, "Fly you high".

So the crawlers are speaking correct sentences in Underland English, just repeating the first phrase at the end. Which brings me to my second argument.

The repetition serves a grammatical function

In paying attention to the crawler's speech, I found a pattern. The repetition is not present in every sentence. Crawlers often make simple declarative statements without repetition:

"You look much like but smell not like" "Temp will share her food with me" "Rats give many fish"

The repetition specifically happens with questions:

"Ride you, ride you? Run you, run you?" "Give you five baskets, give you?" "You so say, you?"

Even Vikus takes on this particular grammatical feature. When speaking to the Crawlers, he says "We will give four baskets, and one for thanks" but later asks "Take us to your king, take us?" when asking a question.

There are exceptions to this, but to me they seem to be in cases of emphasis or explicit confirmation:

"Only the Princess, Temp serves, only the Princess" "Hate warmbloods, cutters do, hate warmbloods"

I have no idea if this was Suzanne Collins intention, but for me personally, it reminds me of how questions are structured in American Sign Language. In ASL, a question is indicated by raising or lowering the eyebrows. Signs for question words like who/what/where/why exist, but aren't always necessary. One of the structures common with ASL is to put or repeat the question word at the end, so you can sign a longer phrase or sentence normally, and only have to worry about the question facial expression for the last word. Bill Vicars at Lifeprint/ASL University has a more in-depth explanation, comparing it to English questions structured as "You go to [X university], don't you?" or "You like engineering, do you?" But basically, in ASL, a perfectly grammatically correct way to ask if someone is Deaf is to sign: YOU DEAF YOU?

It is also worth exploring why, in my opinion, the crawlers are the only species who have this visible difference to the audience, even though all species are speaking English as a second language. And at a meta-level, it contributes to the basic assumption that the crawlers are dumber than the other species. Gregor has the most to adjust to, but even long after he's accepted that the Underlanders aren't primitive, and bats/rats are intelligent, he still has a kind but condescending outlook on the crawlers. And even other insect species (like the fireflies) look down on them. Having the crawlers speak differently from anyone else emphasizes their alienation from all other species in the Underland. And it reminds me of how some accents or dialects, like AAVE, are associated with stupidity or assumed to be "incorrect" English when they have perfectly valid and functional structures and meaning.

#the underland chronicles #language #linguistics #mine