#fable 2 intro

[sparrowsleftear]

Oh Fable 2 intro how I love you

[coda-the-raccoon]

intro!!

hii! my name is coda, im 18 and questioning my gender but for now he/she pronouns r chill

i am an artist and an animator, i spend a good amount of time playing video games nd getting stoned lolz.\

im looking for friends nd trying to start proper commissions ᐛ

some things im into-

homestuck! psychonauts, ror, TMNT, arcane, two kinds, the elder scrolls series, brutal legends, sallyface, day of the tentacle, oitnb, assassins creed, mr bungle, the residents, guitar hero, aaaaaand a loooot more! ask me about it!! :D

[jaydove-writes]

Moving intro to pinned post so bio is less cluttered

~ he/him, cis, biromantic asexual, engaged to @starlightprincess98, (Planning to get married February 14th 2026) born July 12th 1997 (listed the year so I don't have to update my age every year) ****

Platonic soulmates: @aflairforthemelodramaticc and @translesbianfoxgirl

**** Formerly known as **** @princesssparkle42 **** @jaydovesworld **** Other blogs include **** @ask-skybluecmc, if you want to do some MLP OC RP **** @phoenix-of-grandeur, if you want to talk about your favorite games or mine (Though I also do that on main) **** @phiction-of-grandeur, if you want to talk about your stories or mine (Again I do that on main) **** @ask-the-felicity-crew, if you want to RP between your OCs and mine or ask me questions that I will answer as mine. The characters may or may not know they are fictional depending on when in the timeline you ask them.

****

@ask-simon-devlyn, same as the Felicity Crew, but centered around the captain, Simon Devlyn. On this blog Simon knows he's fictional.

**** I love talking to people and making new friends! I'm also creating my own story series called Starbourne. Wanna be friends in the gaming multiverse? Here are my Friend Codes:

****

Steam: 111892045

****

Nintendo Switch: SW-5163-5533-6136 ****

Musical Fandoms:

****

Chrono Trigger

****

Undertale

****

EPIC

**** Show Fandoms: **** MLP **** Steven Universe **** The Owl House **** Amphibia

**** The Ghost and Molly McGee **** Sailor Moon **** Cardcaptor Sakura

****

Infinity Train

****

Spongebob Squarepants ****

More later

**** Game Fandoms: **** Any RPG that features Mario (Such as Super Mario RPG, the Paper Mario series, or the Mario and Luigi RPG series) **** Any indie game inspired by Paper Mario (Such as Bug Fables or Born of Bread) ****

Undertale and Deltarune ****

In Stars and Time

****

Kirby

****

Hollow Knight and Silksong **** Zelda (mainly just watching other people play them) **** Pokemon (see Zelda) **** Might add more later **** Book Fandoms: **** Percy Jackson et al **** Amari **** Serafina **** Might add more later ****

Webcomic Fandoms

****

Homestuck

****

Down to Earth

***** Donation Links

****

Kofi

****

Patreon

****

PayPal

****

Book 1 of my series, Starbourne, is FREE!! For the other books please donate $6 per book to one of the aforementioned links. I'm planning on making this a series of 9, but currently working on book 2.

Doing one of those note things for motivation (or notivation because notes lol)

25 notes - I do the dishes and clean out the litter box (done, for now... But these are Sisyphean tasks)

50 notes - I clean up around the house (I did a little cleanup, might do more later)

100 notes - I do a little work on my book (it still needs editing before I can publish it and write the sequel, but I'll do some work on that when my PC stops crashing)

250 notes - I start working on book 2 (or work harder on editing book 1 if it still needs it)

500 notes - I participate in artfight (in the first July after it reaches this threshold. I doubt it'll get there by this month.)

1k notes - I start working on a video game in the Starbourne multiverse. A small one, like Undertale is to Deltarune. I'm calling it Saturn Robe which is an anagram for Starbourne, like Undertale is for Deltarune.

2.5k notes - I start working on my dream game, Starbourne. The one that's the reason I started writing in the first place. (If the small game isn't finished I work harder on that)

5k notes - I dedicate my time to taking care of myself/my partner/my family, and working on my dream game.

10k notes - I become a god in the Tumblrverse (this will not happen)

If you want to know more about Starbourne, check out my other blog @phiction-of-grandeur and my community for more details. My askbox is always open if you want to ask me something.

Here's the first book now:

And here's a newer version of the first book, with (hopefully) better writing. It's gonna be longer than the draft above.

Here's the book on AO3 as well ^^

And here's my artfight link. It's new so there's nothing there yet. ^^^

Here's a game I made in Scratch back in 2012... I occasionally update it when I think of a new idea for an update. Feel free to ask me about Epic Kitty Hunt updates!

[linderosse]

Wielders of Wisdom: Intro Cards Round 2! ✨

> Sun, Dot, Lullaby

> Tetra, Dawn, Fable (Details)

> Dusk, Flora, Artemis

> Phantom, Echo

Masterpost

[edgeray]

“LATE NIGHT DEVIL, PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME

and never never never ever let go”- Teeth, 5 Seconds of Summer

Mafia AU! Arlecchino x Reader Oneshot

Author's Note: It's been a while since I've actually published anything on here. Well, my gay ass is back with another oneshot. This one has been in the works for at least a month. I'm considering making a Part 2, but that will definitely take at least a couple weeks for me to publish (if not months). I wish I was kidding. School literally hates me and my teachers are incessant on killing my GPA. This is also a gift for @megistusdiary because it'll be her birthday when I post this. Please go check out her blog for amazing genshin wlw content (especially Arlecchino content!) Would you guys like this on AO3 as well?

Content Warning/Info: This is a long af oneshot (6.3k words), long af descriptions and kinda long intro, Arlecchino is referred to with they/them pronouns, implied female but no usage of feminine pronouns for Reader, general dark-ish content, pet names, Arlecchino is a lil scary, I've never been to a club so I apologize for the very inaccurate information, nor have I ever been apart of the mafia so also inaccurate, a bit suggestive but otherwise sfw, if I'm missing anything feel free to tell me!

---

Monsters are said to have lied underneath beds–waiting to ensnare an unknowing victim–or stalk hidden among the depths of a closet–awaiting an opportune moment to strike its next prey. Monsters are fabled entities that are used to scare off children from bad behavior and are quickly eased from the mind by coddling parents. The mere notion of a monster shooed away like a pesky fly, swept underneath the subconscious like forgotten specks of dirt. 

You know otherwise. Real monsters don’t lurk on the undersides of mattresses; no, they lurk both in the skies above and the depths below. They do not stalk dark closets because they instead stalk alleys in daylit streets. Monsters are very real, that you know is true since you’ve seen your fair share of them. You’ve met monsters in person–they’ve come to you before. Terrifying is an understatement for them, and each time one has appeared as a client, you’re no less scared shitless.

You’ve learned that even inhumane demons find themselves in need of entertainment; like the sinful creatures they are, they seek self-pleasure. And that is how you found yourself in this particular circle of hell, meant to serve and please demons, devils, and monsters alike. Perhaps it was a revolting job, working at a strip club run by a criminal organization but it paid decent money for being danced on the fingertips of whoever you were unfortunate enough to be assigned to.

If it was a regular strip club, being an exotic dancer would have been fine. It wouldn't be so bad. Lustful and prying eyes can be accustomed to quickly, and so are the flattering compliments and the awkward flirting by middle-aged married men. However, there was a difference between lecherous and predatory gazes. Here, you aren’t even viewed as a person, no, the clients here, those that come in reeking of smoke or blood (though sometimes both), armed with knives and guns on their person, see you as nothing more than a toy or prey for them. Even in the eyes of your employer, you're less than human in their eyes. 

‘You harm our merchandise, you’ll pay for it,’ is the warning given to every guest when they first enter. Merchandise. That's what you are. And that single line of words is the only thing that assures you of your safety among mafia members, gangsters, crooks, and whatnot. You've heard that the organization behind this strip club does well in enforcing that rule according to other dancers, but you personally don't want to see if the statement is true. You've been here for a little over a year, and besides bruising grips and pulled hair you’ve surprisingly yet to be seriously injured in any way. So maybe monsters do have a little humanity in them. 

You're quickly growing to be a fan favorite as of recently, which means more money goes your way, but you're not sure how you feel about all the attention on you. It's most likely because of how often you offer private dances and private rooms to clients. Whatever gets you the most money; the faster you make money the faster you can pay off your debt and be out of here. 

Tonight is supposed to be no different from other nights. You perform on stage, you rile up the crowd, you get showered in tips, and if there is a customer that looks mentally sane enough not to murder you in private, you take them to the back. Except, tonight, you're approached by your boss, who informs you that the entirety of the club was reserved by the Fatui, a well-known mafia more powerful and larger than the one that backs you up, for some celebration. These kinds of occurrences in the club rarely crop up, but when they do, they're often the most opportune time to bag in an abundant amount of money. Big shots like the Fatui pay and tip well, but there's one unsaid risk that comes with this: as a mere dancer like yourself, your life quite literally dangles in the Fatuis’ hands tonight. The organization that owns this establishment can't retaliate against the Fatuis if they so choose to dismiss the warning. They can't even compare to the might of the Fatui.

Simply put, if a Fatui kills you tonight, no one could do more besides bat their eyelashes. You're not at all pleased with this predicament of practically bordering on death, especially when you know one wrong move with one too hot-tempered Fatui could land you at the pearly gates. Keep pleasing the crowd, keep entertaining them, keep racking in the money, you remind yourself as you continue your dance, twirling around the pole sensually, and the customers devour every movement with their eyes. The only comfort you're given is that you've heard the Fatui are quite reasonable and diplomatic most of the time. This is especially true for the Harbingers, you've heard, the twelve most elite members that serve under the Tsaritsa, and the ones that are the most exclusive customers this night. That doesn't mean the Harbingers are any more humane than the average crook. Having worked in a strip club run by the mafia and surrounded by criminal organizations, the more rumored something is, the more dangerous it is. They can be considered devils amongst demons even. That's simply how vile they're supposed to be. 

The most concerning problem about the Harbingers is that you don’t know what they look like, only the occasional whisper has alluded to how to distinguish between the twelve. Perhaps, you can survive through the night if you try not to draw too much attention; let the other dancers shine instead and hope you don’t get requested for a private room or dance. That way, you can ensure you don’t end up dead. 

Your time to go upstage comes sooner than you’re prepared for. Your hands are clammy, and your form trembles in a way that only happened during your first month. Both reactions don’t make for a very good combination when your survival relies on you not fucking up and disappointing criminal customers. As you approach the pole, just like every time you’ve done, you make sure that the crowd’s gazes are in the backdrop of your mind, and instead, fixate on repeating the movements you’ve been taught and have mastered with your experience. Bet your survival on the provocative sway of your hips, the practiced showcase of your legs, and the allure of your dancing form. Beguile the crowd, but not too much, just enough to wow them. From what you can tell by the volume of the crowd, you’re doing a good job pleasing the Fatui enough. Your body stops tremoring after a few minutes on stage, and with one last final push of courage, you focus your eyes on the crowd before you.

Unsurprisingly, the makeup of the Fatui are men, though there are notably quite a few women. Either way, all of their attention is on you. As your eyes scan across a crowd, for one reason or another, you stop at a particular set of eyes near the back of the crowd. Intent, pitch-black abysses stare back, like they were trying to bore into your soul and devour every single motion of yours. They don’t quite hold the same ravenous desire as many of those before you right now, you mentally note with curiosity. It feels like your form is being calculated, in the way a predator would cautiously observe their next prey, a sensation you’ve experienced a few times, but each is no less chilling. The weight of their engrossed gaze causes you to shiver momentarily, and you snap away from their disturbing gaze to prevent any fumbling or faltering while you’re on stage. 

Tonight marks the first time you actively seek out the same viewer while on stage, or even, during your entire time here. For some reason, you feel awfully bold, or curious, whichever two comforts you more, and unlike the meek little rabbit you usually are, you instead search for the viewer’s gaze. You find the pair of eyes with relative ease, as you remember that above their eyes are distinctive snow-white strands with streaks as black as their orbs. You take a moment to study them, and they remind you of a lion–or lioness–among hyenas. The aura they exude varied quite a bit compared to the other Fatui in front of you: not rambunctious, or arrogant; it's apparent they held an aura of indomitable authority just from the way they held themselves. Perfect posture with their clasped hands nested in their lap, with one leg raised over the other. They’re an embodiment of perfected elegance, however, much like a porcelain doll, they’re also expressionless, their appearance unmarred. You don’t examine the Fatui’s form for much longer because their scrutiny on you pricks at your skin irritatedly. 

You don’t look for them again throughout your performance. In fact, you hope you never meet those charcoal pits again. You’re afraid that if you do, you’ll be ensnared by whatever beastly claws or fangs you know that Fatui hides underneath that impenetrable mask. The moment your time on stage ends, you rush back to the changing room to shake off your nerves. You sit down at a nearby chair, taking in deep sighs as you attempt to forget how you were stared down like a you were cornered, defenseless animal. And that is what you are, as much as you hate it. There’s nothing that can protect you from the Fatui. Maybe if you hide, never show your face for the rest of the night, they’ll forget they ever saw you and they’ll target another dancer. Surely, that will work, won’t it? 

You’re able to steady your breathing before you can delve into a panic attack. Tonight, you decide, you’re not going to take any customers to any private rooms or take any private dances. You’d be missing out on a lot of money, but your life is more of a priority as of currently; not after the ‘encounter’ with that individual, you don’t want to think about how many more are just like them, hiding in the crowd like they were awaiting an opportunity to pounce on your vulnerable form. 

Unfortunately, it seems like someone else has other plans for you because your manager storms into the room asking for your whereabouts before his eyes narrow on you. You immediately sit up, stiff as a board when he practically marches his way towards you. 

"Someone wants you." 

You sigh and shake your head. You should have known. "Not tonight." 

He clicks his tongue. "You know I can't allow that tonight." 

You bite your lip. "Just pass them to someone else." 

"They're not someone you or I can refuse." 

"Who?" You question with a shuddering breath, your nails digging into your thigh. 

"The fourth one. The Knave. Lord Arlecchino."

Fuck your life. You might as well pull the trigger now. You’ve heard faint whispers of each Harbinger from the customers audacious enough to speak of them. The youngest, the eleventh, charming and boyish. The ninth, money-obsessed but a pretty looker. The eighth, elegant and cold, yet no less alluring. The seventh, as human-like as their robotic creations, which to say isn’t very. The sixth, is hotheaded and mysterious. The fifth, unknown. And the fourth?

Insane. Ruthless. Bloodthirsty. That’s how the fourth is described. You shiver at the horrors that appear on the forefront of your mind when imagining what may come for you. If you're lucky, you'll be alive at the end of the night, more than likely clinging to the edge of living. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? Get ready as soon as you can.” 

And you do. It’s not long until you stand in front of the private room’s door, your guest is already inside more than likely. The Fourth Harbinger is waiting, you remind yourself, fruitlessly trying to swallow down your stress. You can be dead the minute you step inside, this room could be marked as your grave. Whatever he tells you to do, you’ll obey wordlessly to survive. Just nod along, smile, and do whatever it is that he tells you regardless of the demand. You inhale deeply, regaining some ease of mind, before you bring your knuckles to the door, knocking. 

“Come in,” comes a deep, flat voice, slightly muffled by its distance but what surprises you is how feminine the Harbinger sounds. Maybe you got the wrong room. You glance back at the room number plate on the door, and it’s the room you remember your manager mentioning. It’s the right room. Maybe someone else? You don’t have time to wonder, however, as you enter the room, knowing that if it is the Fourth, it wouldn’t be wise to keep him (Her? Them? You’ll just stick with ‘them’ now.) waiting. 

“Lord Arlecchino?” You inquire as you enter the room, closing the door behind you. Sucking in a harsh inhale, you instantly recognize their distinct hair. It’s them. Your sight is immediately greeted by the figure sitting on the couch before you, sitting in exactly the same way you discovered them–crossed-legged and lounging back with unfaltering confidence. The Knave wears a scarlet blazer over a black compressed turtleneck, with a matching set of crimson leggings. Upon closer inspection, you’re able to make out red irises in their jet-black eyes. Despite the blatant and literal red flag, something about their appearance draws you in even when they scream danger. They’re… you’re not quite sure how to describe them. You admire the unblemished and pale skin, their elegant and rugged demeanor is like the perfect balance between femininity and masculinity. Are they beautiful, or are they handsome? You think both. 

Arlecchino stares back at you like they’re considering devouring you then and there. You can’t suppress the shudder that runs down your spine. You’re a sheep before a wolf. There’s something so chilling about them that even with your experience with other clients, none has ever made you feel this way with just their mere gaze alone. This is what separates the average crook from one of the most powerful mafia members you've ever heard of.

You wait for a response but they only continue to observe you. You take the silence as confirmation to your question and that they’re anticipating something from you. Biting back a sigh of resignation, your hands hook underneath the band of your bra top and you lift it just the slightest amount before a cutting voice makes you freeze.

“What are you doing?” the Harbinger demands, their tone chilling and apathetic, making you want to shrink in yourself immediately. Your blood pumps loudly in your ears and your hands tremble a bit. Something about how designing their gaze makes you suddenly self-aware in a way you’ve never felt before another client–you’re practically half-naked in front of them with your skimpy bra top, undergarments, and fishnets and now is the only moment that you've actually considered how little covering is on you. 

Why are they stopping you? Isn’t this what they wanted you to do? Or maybe they just want to do it themselves. Those types of customers always have the most bruising of grips and suffocating of holds. You stiffen at the notion. How are you going to survive this night with a Fatui Harbinger of all things? How many of your limbs are going to be fractured and how many of your bones are going to end up broken? 

“I…I’m undressing,” your meek voice sounds out and you hate the crack in your speech. The Harbinger continues to scrutinize you. You don’t dare continue disrobing yourself. 

There are several beats of wordless response before they then stand up from the couch. 

Oh shit. You’ve fucked up. Are they going to kill you now? Is this your end? 

Every thought is telling you to run in the opposite direction as they stalk up to you, but you're petrified as you realize with a chill that they’re taller than you. You’re not short by any means, a bit above average height, but they tower over you, looking down at you from above and casting judgment on you like a god. Once they stride toward you, you avoid eye contact by looking straight, observing their neck and clavicle that protrudes from underneath the fabric. You tense when they raise a hand, their manicured fingers placing themselves underneath your chin and long, carmine nails dig into the underside of your jaw, making you wince. They forcefully tilt your head, raising your focus onto their face. 

It’s like they plunged their hands down your throat and ripped out the oxygen from your lungs, leaving you unable to breathe. Up close, the first thing you notice is their lips, plump and red from their lipstick. Briefly, you wonder what color their lipstick would look on your skin. Then your eyes travel up, red-crossed eyes gaze back at you and you gape quietly at the distinct shape of their pupils. You swear that their pupils flash red as you finally lock eye contact with them. 

“Did I tell you to?” Their tone is cold compared to the strange softness of their handsome (beautiful?) face. 

Something in your gut coils inwardly and you want to look away, but their firm hold on your chin prevents you. You bite your bottom lip to repress a whimper. You’re delicate glass in their hands, and they can break you so, so easily. 

“No, sir.” Only the numerous times you’ve said this phrase ensures you don’t stumble over your words. They don’t answer promptly, but as they observe your features, their lips quirk up the slightest amount. 

“You know how to address me. Very good,” Arlecchino purrs after several beats of silence, in a low, oh-so-sultry tone, and oh. Oh. 

You’re not sure why, but their last two words make your stomach churn, but not in a discomforting way. In the way that lights a fire underneath your skin and spreads heat to every part of your body. You’ve never quite felt this way with another customer. You couldn’t believe that your body reacts this way just from a single praise but it doesn’t stop the pooling heat in your bowels. The chill down your spine still remains in place, but there’s an off-putting equilibrium of iciness and fervor generated from the client. 

The Fatui’s eyes stay fixated on you wordlessly until the hand on your chin turns your head, finally breaking you free of their intense behold. Their grip slackens so that they can trace their nails gently down your throat, every inch of surface their fingertips brush against ignites a blaze on your skin. A shuddering exhale leaves your lips and it seems like they take notice because from the corner of your eye, the small uptick of their mouth grows. Despite how sensual and probing the Harbinger’s touch feels, there’s nothing lecherous about it–purely just intrigue and fascination. It’s a touch you both have and never experienced before. Cold nails rake against your throat, not enough to mark or scratch, but enough to invoke shivers. 

You’re aware you should be terrified, but for a reason you can’t pin down, you can’t jerk away from their touch. You try to reason with yourself it was only because you’re one upset away from getting yourself killed but that reasoning falls apart when their hand gingerly traces your jawline and you make the softest of groans, a barely audible noise of content. Unfortunately for you, the sound seems to have reached Arlecchino’s ears and their expression softens slightly: their eyes narrow less and their brows aren’t as creased. And that smirk–if you could even call it that from how faint it is–becomes a half-smirk. 

They pull their hand away and your trance is broken, reality returning back to you as you remember that the person before you is still a Fatui Harbinger, no matter how bizarrely melting their touch was. They turn on their heel and walk towards the couch in front of you; the slightest bit of heaviness is placed on your heart. You remain stationary where you are, observing them as they seat themselves gracefully on the couch, and their attention encounters yours again. Their black pits hold expectancy in them. At first, you’re clueless as to what the criminal desires from you, but then their legs spread apart, an inviting gesture that beckons you and every rational thought leaves your easily swayed mind. Your heart skips a beat, and you're sure this time it's not out of trepidation. 

Even if you didn’t command them to, your legs would take you to their seating figure. You stand before them, feeling blatantly disrespectful to look down at Arlecchino, but you await their order. They lean back, lounging laxly against the couch, their posture never lacking their usual self-assurance. It only ties the knot in your gut tighter. You’re aware of what they’re instructing you to do, but the absent confirmation makes you hesitant. It seems like the Knave picks up on this because the room echoes with one definitive spouted word from their lips, authority and dominance ringing through their husky voice. 

“Sit.” 

Your legs buckle underneath you from the one-worded response, the demand only stoking the consuming fire inside you. Eager to please, you perch yourself on their lap, straddling them, your knees pressed into the furniture below you and encasing both of their thighs between your own. 

Oh, you think to yourself as your legs make contact with their thighs. They're firm. And for some reason, that provokes your stomach to churn in itself even more. You're so close to them, enough to feel their breath cascade against your skin. 

As you seat yourself, you nearly clumsily topple over, instinctively grasping onto their shoulders for support. Their shoulders are remarkably broad, you regard, well-muscled as well. Their hands creep up on your hips, steady but gentle hands grasping on each bare side of yours to stabilize you. The heat that radiates from their hands is infectious, regardless of the nails that burrow into your plush waist. For the first time, you flush considerably, a sweltering inferno forming in your cheeks and your head fills with dizziness. Their touch is gentle–something you rarely experience with customers–so, so gentle that you would describe it as heavenly. How can someone so inexplicably vile have heaven on their fingertips?

It's not a position you never found yourself in. In fact, it's far from the first time you've been like this with another client. But here, as you're sat on top of the Fatui Harbinger, and red x-pupils search yours, a foreign feeling passes through you. Placing your finger on it, you dubiously think it's bashfulness, but the heartbeat that sings in your ears and pulses underneath your fingertips tells you otherwise, tells you it's something more. Against that, you remove your grasp on their shoulders and place your palm flat against the couch’s surface behind the Knave. 

You squirm a bit, nervousness in your form as you remain as still as you possibly can, waiting for any more instructions. All you need to do is act like an obedient doll for them in order to survive; compliance is the best way of ensuring survival with people like these. You feel like you're merely eye candy from the way that their attention flits across your body, but you're immobile throughout the entirety of their observance. Being looked at is much better than any physical interaction. Their hands still cup your hips, but slowly, they descend to the side of your thighs, making your skin feel tingly. 

Impulsively, you mumble out a quiet "Sir…" as strange sensations brush against your skin. 

The sound surprises you and you feel on edge as their eyes travel from your lower half to your face. You gulp considerably. From their stare, they expect more of a response, a reason for their addressment, but even you don’t know yourself; it seems like an unconscious calling that just rolled off your tongue. You cow underneath their gaze, even when the two of you are at eye level. When you linger in quietude, their hand releases one of your thighs and lifts to your face, supporting your chin while their thumb rests on your bottom lip, unfurling it just the slightest amount to implore an answer from your now parted lips. Gleaming scarlet pupils grip your regard sternly, piercing into you and instilling you to spew something out. Except, you still can’t, now too entranced and lost in the crimson. 

“Doll.” 

Despite the pet name, it's devoid of any affection or warmth. It's a word that drips of command, a reminder of your place: simply a toy that they can play with however they want, a manipulated and decorated plaything for their amusement. That means you answer to them, and so when they request a response, you're under the obligation to please them. Your survival is in their palms anyway, if they wanted you to dance, you would just so they wouldn’t strangle the life out of you. 

However, its implication doesn’t prevent the tingling shudders that wrack your body nor the involuntary clenching of your thighs around theirs. Was it the gravelly voice that aroused your behavior? Your cheeks flare at the knowledge that Harbinger sensed the physical reaction. It shouldn't be possible. It shouldn't be possible, your thoughts repeat, but then they're interrupted by: 

"Oh?" Arlecchino inquires to themselves, a stark amusement in their speech. Their red glare illuminates slightly, replacing the lost darkening with a faint glow in their pupils, and the corner of their mouth curls up. It is only then that you discover something entirely new: that monsters can be sinfully, cataclysmically, terrifyingly beautiful and the sight before you is the most exquisite example. A devil has you wrapped in its claws and its fangs readied for devouring but it’s disguised as an ethereal angel; blinded by their perilous allure, you mistake their snow-white hair, their lustrous piercing rubies, their flawless porcelain skin, and their burning, fleeting touches as traits of a seraph. From a measly smirk, you forget the atrocities lying underneath their fingertips and dismiss the hazard their presence holds. 

The hand on your thigh rakes its fingers up, red nails trailing across the surface of your fishnet, wrenching out a breathy gasp from you as they travel inwards. Tingling pleasure injects into your veins as you subconsciously lean in, imploring for further sensual contact. A plea sits on your tongue and nests in your eyes as you beg them through your pitiful expression. They drink in your desperation with a slow swipe of their tongue over their lips, and that single action is debauched enough to elicit a soft groan from your throat.

“Well, aren’t you an amusing toy?” They drawl out with a preposing rasp and dark abysses glint with an insatiable hunger. 

They smirk enticingly, their thumb running across your bottom lip and smearing your lipstick on their thumb pad. Their grip on your chin tightens a bit, pulling you even closer to them before a shadow casts over you when their face nears. Before you can even fathom their intentions, they descend upon you, closing the distance between the two of you. Your lips are greeted with something pillowy soft and fervently warm, and you sharply inhale from the sensation. Every one of your nerves sings frenziedly, your muscles tense all over, and your heartbeat drums deafeningly in your ears–all of this as your body is engulfed in a fervid tornado of heat that makes you lightheaded with pleasure. It takes you several beats to realize the reason for this is that Lord Arlecchino, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave is kissing–no, kissing is far too intimate, devouring–you voraciously like they're trying to rob you of any air, trying to imprint themselves on your mouth. Their mouth dominates yours, pushing against them with a deep fervor and famished urgency, eager to swallow every bit of shocked noise you make. 

You close your eyes and allow yourself to indulge. 

You first taste lipstick with a waxy flavor hitting your tastebuds. It’s cold against your lips, yet warm at the same time. But the physical texture and flavor of their lips are irrelevant; there’s only one true manner you would distinguish their taste: 

They taste like sin. 

The type of sin that’s chocolate coated and sprinkled with colorful toppings; depravity so sweet and charming it makes you reconsider the bounds of right and wrong. Degeneracy is far, far tastier than anything you’ve indulged in before. How can something so evil be so heavenly? Cushiony soft, placidly warm, flatteringly zealous, it’s like having a dance with a devil; so unequivocally immoral but no less gratifying. You question if they really belong to the Fatui because how can something like this come from such? You want to engrave the texture of their mouth onto your memory, feel this faux intimacy even when you’ve long parted. The Fourth Harbinger, you surmise as you surrend your will to them, is decadent–the only word that can be defined as both wicked and delectable at once–the perfect word to describe them. 

The last remaining bit of reasoning comes to the backdrop of your thoughts and begs you to not be swept away in the heavenly embrace. You discount it in favor of accepting this godsent gift by leaning further with a weak imitation of their ravishing lips and pressing back. It’s a feeble attempt to match their insatiate nature, far too domineering and forceful than you can manage but they display a token of appreciation when they squeeze your thigh, indenting your skin shallowly with the burrowing of their nails. The action exposes just how sensitive you’ve gone underneath their touch and you reward them with the sweetest of sounds. 

“Arlecchino,” you mumble with half-lidded dazed eyes in between ravenous exchanges and it evokes a depraved throaty growl from the Fatui, like provoking a call from a starving beast. They lean deeper to indulge in your taste. The gruff sound reaches your ears and it’s like a psalm–you shudder from its musical melody. 

Their clutch on your jaw releases and their fingers outline your jawline before snaking to the back of your head. Well-manicured digits entangle themselves in your hair, and there’s a gentle shove against your skull that forces you deeper into the kiss. Your hands clutch onto the couch underneath you as tight as you physically can for any sense of grounding and your knees attempt to close in even more to feel more of their body against yours. The hand on your leg, in turn, caresses the length of your thigh. 

Every graceful touch, stroke, and brush exudes an unyielding and infectious warmth that only adds to the stoking fire in your gut, and you’re bathed in so much swelter from the ecstasy that you feel dizzy. Yet, you never want it to end, you grow more addicted and drunk with each encounter of their lips. That, paired with your strained breathing, prompts your stamina to falter much sooner than the Harbinger’s. You let out a soft whine to signal your depleting oxygen, and their mouth unlatch with yours, pulling away despite your ache for more. With the separation comes a small string of saliva attached between the two of you, evidence of the shared intimacy that’s snapped when they lick their lips. The hand behind your head detangles from your hair and you silently mourn over the loss of contact. 

You heave for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. You’re a little perturbed when you notice that they’re not even out of breath, a small but firm reminder that they’re as inhuman as humans can be. That knocks a sense of reality back into you. Customer, mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, it comes back to you like a train. Here you are swapping spit with them while in the lap of potentially the most dangerous criminal you could ever meet, but fuck were they a good kisser–you’ve never experienced anything that came close to this in your lifetime.

Any foolish doubtful contemplation of the morality of this interaction is swept away just like that when you hear:

“Greedy little thing that you are,” they regard with the most cunning and handsome of smiles, discrete amusement dripping from their words. Their dark pits behold you entirely, the same way they have always done when it seems like they were contemplating what part of you to savor the most. Only this time, you’re not so disturbed by the notion. If anything, the swirling heat in between your legs suggests the opposite.  

Greedy wasn't a word often associated with you, yet you couldn't more correctly describe yourself in that moment. Greedy. Greedy for a Fatui Harbinger no less. As ashamed as you should be, there's no use denying that you crave for their touch, for their gaze, for anything and everything they're willing to give you. You want everything and more. The more you contemplate, the more it seems obvious why you wouldn’t. Are they a devil disguised as an angel, or are they an angel that fell from grace? Regardless, they bring nirvana to you. An incessant desire bubbles inside you, your throat swelling up with an urgent request on the tip of your tongue. Would they allow such a thing if you plead? Would they be offended by your impudence? Would they punish you for such? But the necessity outweighs any reconsideration of your insolence and the supplicant beg tumbles out of your loose lips. 

“Can I… touch you please, my Lord?” You croak out, wincing at just how wretched it comes out. The response from them is not immediate as the two of you stew in silence, a building sense of dejection inside of you. The expression on their face noticeably contorts, smile lessening, their brows furrowing, and their red x’s glinting dimly. Their free hand raises to near your neck and you suck in a harsh breath as their fingers enclose around your throat. The mere action sends a stinging reminder to your lust-dazed thoughts about their position, and a chill pierces you. 

Mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave–the labels cycle through your thoughts. Though their grip is lax, not exactly suffocating and giving ample space to breathe, their fingertips does acutely jab into your skin, a display of their impressive grip strength. You have no doubt that they can suffocate you with one hand alone, snap your neck, or, as your mind ventures into more harrowing territories, crush your skull. Those thoughts alone has you breathless with anticipation. A heavy weight suddenly appears in your gut, so heavy that you feel like you can’t move so much as a muscle. 

Did you just go too far? Was that too much to ask? Was this how you were going to die?

The reflex to gag and inhale combat each other in your throat, a discomforting sensation that crawls up your spine while you tremble. You’re almost certain that the nails have penetrated the layer of skin, drawing beads of blood that’ll trail down your mark. You whimper at the prickly pain. Yet, in all your unease, the most masochistic thought arrives briefly at the forefront, and you can’t help but consider: this position is just as intimate as all the other interactions. You’re already so vulnerable in their lap, does the hand around your neck change your peril in any way? No, you’ve been a defenseless lamb to a slaughter the moment you’ve stepped into the domain of a menacing wolf. 

Ah. Even now, you can’t dismiss the warmth of their fingertips. 

“Do you still want to touch me when I do this?” They demand callously, their voice harsh and reverberating through the room. Their grasp closes more around, and you feel your supply of oxygen inhibited. Tears begin to brim your eyes, but you’re undeterred. Unlike Arlecchino’s, your answer is instant and breathless. Your eyes intently lock on theirs, the hardened expression enough to satisfy their question. There’s no need for contemplation. Danger, you determine, is addicting. 

“Yes.”

The previously small smile stretches across their lips considerably. Content, or dare you say it, thrill writes itself over their face and the boulder previously pressed against your shoulders is lifted. Your throat is freed from their hold, but their touch doesn’t halt there. Instead, they rotate your head for you to face to the left, exposing your side profile to them. From the corner of your eyes, you watch as their face draws closer to your skin, hot breath cascading across the small dents her nails created. The one on your thigh finally leaves, moving to one of your hips, tender strokes across your flushed surface. They lean forward, and moist, plush skin meets yours. Lips traverse over the length of your neck, teeth scraping against, making you weakly groan. It takes all of your will to still your body, only allowing for the Harbinger to do whatever they desire to your form. Their touches are burning, burning, burning–so hot that you wonder if you’re experiencing a heat wave. Peppered kisses follow the edge of your jawbone, all the way up to your earlobe. A wet kiss graces your ear and then the most sinful of statements dignifies your eardrums, like a devil whispering hymns directly into your ear. 

“I think I’ll keep you to myself after this.”

A short hum follows afterward. 

“If you want to touch me, you’ll have to work for it. You’re only mine for tonight, aren't you? Entertain me. Give me a private dance, doll. After all, you have me for all night.” 

---

Link to M-Alexa's amazing art and how I imagine Arlecchino to look like in this oneshot.

[felassan]

Game Informer:

"Dragon Age Cover Story And Shadow of the Erdtree Review | GI Show by Alex Van Aken on Jun 27, 2024 at 01:57 PM In this week's episode of The Game Informer Show, the crew discusses our recent trip to Bioware for our Dragon Age: The Veilguard cover story, our Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree review, PS5-bound multiplayer shooter, Concord, a new battle royale from former League of Legends developers, atmospheric horror title Still Wakes the Deep, Dustborn, Luigi's Mansion 2 HD and even more! It's a packed show, y'all.  Watch the Video Version: [embedded link to Game Informer video titled 'Dragon Age Cover Story And Shadow of the Erdtree Review | GI Show']"

(On YouTube, the description box for this video looked like this:)

[Article continues] "Follow us on social media: Alex Van Aken (@itsVanAken), Kyle Hilliard (@KyleMHilliard), Marcus Stewart (@MarcusStewart7), Wesley LeBlanc (@LeBlancWes) The Game Informer Show is a weekly gaming podcast covering the latest video game news, industry topics, exclusive reveals, and reviews. Join us every Thursday to chat about your favorite games – past and present – with Game Informer staff, developers, and special guests from around the industry. Listen on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or your favorite podcast app. Matt Storm, the freelance audio editor for The Game Informer Show, edited this episode. Matt is an experienced podcast host and producer who's been speaking into a microphone for over a decade. You should listen to Matt's shows like the "Fun" And Games Podcast and Reignite, a BioWare-focused podcast."

"The Game Informer Show – Podcast Timestamps: 00:00:00 - Intro 00:02:42 - Cover Story: Dragon Age: The Veilguard 00:21:48 - Elden Ring Shadow of the Erdtree Review 00:42:20 - Concord Preview 00:59:04 - Supervive Preview 01:11:59 - The Plucky Squire 01:24:37 - Magic: The Gathering – Assassin's Creed 01:35:01 - Still Wakes the Deep 01:45:52 - Dustborn Preview 01:55:06 - Luigi's Mansion 2 HD Review 01:58:26 - Housekeeping"

"The GI Show podcast is a weekly recap of exciting releases, exclusive details on upcoming games, and in-depth interviews with developers. Watch or listen to a new episode every Thursday!"

[source]

----

Felassan's notes section of this post -

In this episode of the Game Informer show, Game Informer talk some more about their trip to BioWare's studio for the DA:TV cover story, when BioWare showed them hours of DA:TV content while playing it live.

Some notes from this and from what they said:

Wesley LeBlanc wasn't a huge DA fan and he went in with no expectations. The job to go to BW for this just landed on his plate due to other peoples' schedules. After seeing the game, it's probably his most anticipated game for the rest of the year and the one he's most looking forwards to

The game really wowed him and stuck with him, he said he is thrilled about it and is engrossed in the fantasy it's bringing

The visuals and world finally feel like what BioWare has maybe always wanted to make

This is the game where the team said, yeah, we feel fully in command of the Frostbite engine, and it shows

The world is more like Fable-type whimsy than prior DA games. It has a high fantasy feel

BW want new people to play the game. They're very aware that it's been 10 years since the last game and the game does a good job of catching people up

Rook as the PC really has no idea what's going on with Solas and all the other lore-specific stuff that's happening in the game, so they kind of act as the stand-in for newer players or people who have not caught up on the lore

But it's not just a game for newcomers, there is still a lot to chew on in the game for hardcore DA fans. BioWare were saying that they know their community, what it wants and what it's looking for out of these characters

Wesley enjoyed the music, visual design, and voice acting

Nothing that they saw about the game stood out as worrisome to him

Wesley has quite a lot of further stories to add to Game Informer's DA:TV hub

Wesley: "On the topic of the [Dragon Age] fanbase, I just wanna give a shoutout to that community, because, wow, I did not, I knew people would be stoked about this cover, but people are really stoked about this cover. And it’s really funny, the day that we announced it, I got like hundreds of new followers. Anytime, if I tweet about Erdtree or Destiny 2, I get like my normal amount of likes, like, a dozen maybe, y’know, whatever. If I tweet about Dragon Age, it’s like. Today I tweeted, ‘my next feature is coming at 3pm’ and it’s at 1000 likes, it’s so funny, like, this community is like rabid for information, which makes sense if you haven’t gotten a game in 10 years. But yeah, so like, shoutout to y’all, I’m loving you guys reading the articles and telling me what you wanna hear about. So if you have any questions or anything, get at me on Twitter for sure, and I will see what I can cook up with some writing for you. But yeah, shoutout to the BioWare community, y’all crazy.”

[source]

[fleurfiles]

FABLE AND TRUTH | intro & playlist.

୧ ‧₊˚ love was the law & religion was taught.... ↳ summary: you had always been raised on being poise, feminine, classy. but what was most important to your family was your religion— and it had embroidered itself into your daily life. but when it’s time to pick between feelings and faith, which will you choose? pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. religious backgrounds & guilt | mature language | sexual content | substance use author's note. chapter one will be posted right after this, this is just a little intro!

playlist: 1. fable, gigi perez 2. the gold, phoebe bridgers 3. your best american girl, mistki 4. love me not, ravyn lenae 5. sailor song, gigi perez 6. creep, radiohead 7. puppet, tyler the creator 8. girls, girl in red 9. good luck, babe!, chappell roan 10. never be like you, flume

you woke up every morning to the soft hum of the alarm on your phone, its subtle vibration rattling on your wooden nightstand. sunlight seeped through the thin curtains, painting streaks of gold across your small dorm room. you’d wake up, make your bed, and slither onto your desk chair to pray. that’s how all your dawns and dusks were spent, night and day, everything had to fall into a routine. 

your Bible sat on the corner of your desk, bookmarked and worn from countless mornings spent reading the same verses over and over, letting their memorized words settle into your heart like an old friend.

faith was the thread that tied your life together. it was in the way you prayed before meals, even in the bustling cafeteria where no one else bothered to bow their heads, or on the way to class, while people scrolled on their phones and listened to music. 

faith had been the only thing you could take refuge in. it was everywhere, it was even in your playlists, full of soft gospel tunes and acoustic worship songs. it was in how you spoke— gentle, careful, always trying to reflect the grace you believed in. but it wasn’t easy. not even a little bit. 

you had a quiet life, one defined by structure and conviction. classes, study groups, sunday services, and the occasional volunteer shift at the community center. you never complained, though. this was the life you wanted— or at least the one you believed you should have. being a good person, a good christian, meant staying on the narrow path, even when it felt like the world was pulling you in a dozen different directions.

and you felt like it was what shaped you, your thoughts, actions– everything. it felt good to have a modest mindset, always giving to others, being sweet and gentle-hearted, and it didn’t bother you that you hadn’t experienced everything that others had. you always focused on higher things, like your future, your well-being, and of course, your relationship with God. 

then there was emma. your best friend, your opposite in every conceivable way. emma was wild, free-spirited, and unafraid of anything or anyone. her laughter echoed down the hallways, loud and unfiltered, the kind that made people stop and turn and whisper to others around her, but she never cared. 

she was the type to dance on tables at parties, to flirt shamelessly with anyone she found remotely attractive, to live every second as if it were her last. she’d drag you along to all her adventures, insisting that you needed to "loosen up" and "have fun for once."

and sometimes you wanted to. sometimes, when you watched emma throw her head back in carefree laughter or saw the way she lit up a room without even trying, you felt the smallest pang of envy. you wanted to be like her, to let go of the weight you carried and just live. but every time you tried, something stopped you. a voice in the back of your mind, a knot in your stomach, the ever-present reminder of who you were supposed to be.

the struggle wasn’t just about faith, though. it was also about the questions you didn’t have answers to. questions about yourself, about your identity, about the things you felt but couldn’t bring yourself to say out loud. you’d grown up hearing that love was sacred, that it was meant to be between a man and a woman, that anything else was forbidden. but what about the nights when your thoughts wandered, when you felt things you couldn’t explain? what about the way your heart raced around certain people, the way your cheeks flushed at the slightest touch or glance?

it was a constant push and pull, a war within yourself that you couldn’t escape. you wanted to be true to your faith, to the values that had been instilled in you since you were a child. but you also wanted to understand yourself, to figure out what it meant to be you without the fear of judgment or condemnation. it felt impossible to reconcile the two, like you were being asked to choose between the life you’d always known and the freedom you secretly craved.

emma didn’t know. not about the questions, not about the doubts, not about the quiet nights spent crying into your pillow, begging god for clarity. she’d never understand. how could she? emma’s world was black and white, filled with sharp lines and bold colors, while yours was a sea of gray. she loved you, of course. she’d be the first to defend you against anyone who dared to say a bad word about you. but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. you couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone.

so you carried it alone. the weight of your faith, your doubts, your fears. you buried them beneath layers of prayer and routine, hoping that one day, the answers would come. but deep down, you weren’t sure if they ever would. and as much as you hated to admit it, a part of you was terrified of what those answers might be.

send an ask to be added to my taglist !!

taglist: @vharperr | @47lake | @hopingforgoodblogs | @zendayasredbottoms | @chrissv4mp | @mseilishmwah | @justtr | @natbelovasblog | @lovelyy-moonlight | @bilsdillldough | @billiesrighthand | @sturnsmia | @karaeilishh | @asterisk-eyes | @billiesbabygirll | @hrts4billieeilish | @greenbttrflyy | @drunkinyourbenz | @amara-eilish | @profoundcoffeepeanut | @billsbaby | @hkkuugu | @bilssturns | @lovxlyvee | @stargirl-mayaa | @emilyshortcake | @lordfarquads-gurl3 | @wilsonkatya | @enchantingesme

[valy-gc]

So, I have a question. If LoWR was a game then would there be events? If so would it be similar to the TWST events like the home town events or those that focus on one particular Disney movie but in this case one specific fairytale? Or would they be more like Obey Me’s event?

Yep! I even have noted some events ideas ^^'

1. Masque of Fables (Masked Ball Event)

Theme: A grand masquerade where students wear enchanted masks tied to fairytales (more precisely, tied to their Resonance), allowing them to briefly embody the traits of legendary figures. Story: A mysterious invitation appears, claiming that a "True Story" is hidden within the masquerade. But can they uncover it before midnight? (...I don't remember, I wrote that in february and didn't noted more XD) Mini-Games:

Dance duels (rythmic game)

Mask crafting (puzzle-based)

Riddle-solving with NPCs

Event Song: "Midnight Masquerade" – A dramatic waltz with hauntingly beautiful vocals, reminiscent of a fairytale unraveling in moonlight.

2. Enchanted Fairground (Carnival/Festival Event)

Theme: A magical traveling fair sets up on the Academy grounds, but strange occurrences hint at hidden dangers behind the spectacle. Story: Students enjoy carnival games, performances, and sweets—until enchanted attractions begin acting on their own, leading to a mystery. Mini-Games:

Magic-infused carnival rides (rythmic game)

"Test Your Strength" challenges

Fights against attractions coming to life (the carousel rides, statues that can decorate entrances or maybe even the rails coming to life and acting like a giant snake?)

Event Song: "Spellbound Carousel" – A whimsical yet eerie circus melody with a music box intro that grows into an exciting orchestral piece.

3. Starlit Slumber (Pajama Party Event)

Theme: A cozy sleepover event where dreams and reality blur as the students experience shared dreams. Some dreams turn into nightmares, and they must work together to escape! Story: A legendary celestial fae offers students the chance to enter each other’s dreams, but when something goes wrong, they become trapped in an endless night. Mini-Games:

Dream puzzles

Pillow fight duels (Rythmic game)

Event Song: "Lullaby of Stars" – A soft yet eerie lullaby with celestial chimes and a dreamy choir, growing into an adventurous orchestral climax.

4. Haunting Whispers (Halloween Event)

Theme: The Academy is rumored to be haunted, and students must unravel a ghostly mystery before they fall victim to a mischievous spirit. Story: A ghostly entity is playing tricks on the students, setting up eerie pranks and illusions. But is it all fun and games, or is there a real danger lurking? Mini-Games:

"Ghost Hunt" (rythmic game)

Trick-or-Treat battles (collecting enchanted sweets through combats)

Event Song: "Spectral Waltz" – A gothic, eerie melody featuring a harpsichord and haunting whispers, turning into a playful, fast-paced rhythm.

5. Festival of Lumina (before Winter Holiday (yuletide/christmas) Event)

Theme: A breathtaking winter festival celebrating light and warmth, featuring ice sculptures, floating lanterns, and a sky filled with glowing auroras. Story: The Festival of Lumina is meant to bring joy, but a mysterious shadow threatens to steal the lights. Students must restore the balance before the festival is ruined! Mini-Games:

Ice sculpture carving (puzzle-based shaping)

Floating lantern release (rythmic game)

Snowball fight (tactical mini-battle)

Event Song: "Aurora’s Embrace" – A soaring orchestral piece featuring twinkling chimes, echoing choir harmonies, and a triumphant finale.

6. Tides of Fate (Summer Adventure Event)

Theme: A seaside festival turns into a deep-sea expedition when a forgotten merfolk legend awakens. Story: An ancient song from the depths calls out to the students, leading them on an oceanic journey where they must solve riddles from the merfolk. Mini-Games:

"Underwater Relay" (swimming-based race mini-game)

Shell collecting

"Sing with the Sirens" (rhythmic game)

Event Song: "Song of the Tides" – A mystical, flowing melody blending deep-sea echoes, harp notes, and powerful choral swells.

I wrote student every time, but it concern the staffs too of course.

[sandsorghum]

I wanted to drop a few details about some of the references/motifs I included in Mise En Place (my Yandere Nanami fic) because I quite enjoyed the process of researching them. I also hope these help folks to make their own connections!

So first there's 2 stories by JG Bellard; his novel 'Empire of the Sun' and his fable 'The Garden of Time'. The novel is written from the POV of a POW of the Japanese during WWII when they invade Shanghai. Its protagonist is a young boy and one of its major themes is an exploration of empathizing with his captors, developing a kind of Stockholm syndrome during his internment in the prison camp.

The other title referenced is 'The Garden of Time', which is about an aristocrat and his wife holed up in their castle/mansion, living out an idyllic fantasy while trying to delay the inevitable rabble and hoard of proletariat coming for their necks/wealth - which they can actually see approaching over the horizon. They buy themselves time by harvesting magical glass flowers that turn back the clocks and so essentially reset the days, such that the couple are ossified in this one particular time frame. I won't spoil the ending, but it provided quite a bit of food for thought; you can check out the full story here.

Finally, there's two types of flowers in the anniversary bouquet Nanami gifts the reader - blue hydrangeas and daffodils. Nanami himself doesn't know anything about flower language, he chose those purely for their aesthetic quality. But as an author I selected these specifically for their multiple meanings.

For hydrangeas it varies across cultural contexts. In Japan it symbolises understanding and apology, while in 1800s England jilted men would give them to women who spurned their advances or affections. This contradiction parallels some of the plot points and mixed emotions of my reader character.

Furthermore, blue hydrangeas in particular are thought to have connotations of forgiveness, rejection and regret - I wonder if this might be backed up as we actually see Gojo with a bunch of blue roses/periwinkles(?) too in the S2 intro (for Geto) and some have speculated it alludes to unrequited love and yearning there.

Daffodils also have an association of unrequited love. Their scientific Latin name Narcissus Jonquila and genus, Narcissi, is partially derived from Ovid's eponymous myth about the youth who falls for his own reflection in a stream (and eventually wastes away and drowns). Prior to that however, and the less well known part of the myth is that he had rejected the love of the nymph, Echo, who was unable to speak or tell him who she was as she was literally cursed to only repeat the words others told her.

This is less of a direct parallel but I found it significant as Nanami very much falls for the idea and ideals he projects onto his partner, in other words, she's an image of his own conception - and tangentially related is the tragedy of her being unable to convey her true thoughts and feelings to him, or feel safe enough to establish her identity and desires which is to sayshe has no voice of her own in this relationship.

Narcissus can also be traced to the Greek root word narkao - meaning numb (daffodil bulbs are poisonous to animals), and after years of enduring abuse and manipulation, the reader character is somewhat resigned and numb about her circumstances.

I'm not sure these have as much of a basis, or are equally recognised, but during the Victorian era, daffodils have some other negative concepts attached to them depending on where they're worn; on the chest it is 'Indifference' and in one's hair it's "mental agony" - both of which are emotional states that could apply to her too. The article also mentions duplicity as another potential meaning, which I thought quite relevant as Nanami's partner in my story implies certain half-truths and uses misdirection quite frequently to navigate tension in their conversations, and Nanami as well maintains an amicable, even affectionate veneer despite his overall cruelty.

It was a really rewarding challenge writing this fic, it definitely was kinda far from fun or easy a lot of the time but I think I learned quite a bit from the process! And here's one last thing I'll drop - an alternative banner I made for the fic~ Thanks for reading!

[pinniepon]

Hi. Intro post.

Television I like:

House MD, the fall of the house of Usher, She-Ra and the princesses of power, the Muppets (just passively), the haunting of hill house, lotr and the hobbit, star wars, the fallout show, the last of us show(I prefer my television without gameplay), dungeon meshi, moral Orel, probably more I can't remember rn

Movies I like:

O Brother where art thou. Cabaret(1993). Who framed roger rabbit. Jim Henson's labyrinth and the dark crystal.

Games I like:

Disco Elysium, 60 parsecs, the Sims, the elder scrolls, fallout, mario, Zelda, sonic, Rayman(haven't played it but god do I want to), purrgatory, TF2, bg3, dragon age, Pokémon, palworld, horizon zd and fw, peggle, Hades, space station 14, houseflipper, powerwashing simulator, not for broadcast, Celeste, fear and hunger, Dishonored, slime rancher, portal 1n2, rusty lake franchise, Minecraft, stardew valley, west of loathing, wobbledogs, storyteller, msm, oddworld, dbh, broken age, fable(kinda), half-life, hitman, postal 2, monkey island, scratches, spore, simulacra, shadow of Mordor, ENA dream bbq, probably more that I can't remember rn

Books I like:

The picture of Dorian Gray(favourite), World war z(also favourite), Fahrenheit 451, lovesickness (favourite by junji Ito), uzumaki, black paradox(fun dogshit dialogue), hin ódauðu(monster encyclopaedia), junji Ito's Frankenstein, regular Frankenstein, Dracula, Venus in the blind spot, the yellow sign, Yoko Tsuno(comic I liked as a kid), lore Olympus (I acknowledge its flaws but it's still my comfort series), house of leaves, lord of the flies, definitely more I can't remember rn.

Animals I like:

ornate bichir(fave fish), honeycomb catfish, Luna moths, damselflies (favourite insect), ibex, gazelles, goats, pigs, jackals, geese, ravens, hawks, foxes, ibis, scarabs, hyenas, monkeys, kinkajous, pelican spiders, all sorts of pygmy animals, locusts, more I can't remember

Music I like:

I don't like you list:

All the usual stuff (racists, terfs, bigots) and also people that watch blue bloods. I'm serious. No law and order watchers either. And don't even look at me if you're a Harry Potter fan. People that think Yoko broke up the beatles. Marvel fans (Spiderman fine, but don't test your luck). Call of Duty players.

[sthenoaloraquest]

I have been sick since last Thursday but I did finish a book!

Shield of Sparrows by Devney Perry.

A book club on Fable was reading this, and today is the last day to finish/review with in the club. I was interested in the story before I joined the book club but to be honest if I was reading this on my own without and end date to finish, it would of ended up being months before I finished this.

Don't get me wrong, it's a good first book and intro to a new world with monsters. The world building could drag on a little too long on topics that I feel like were pretty insignificant. Characters were likable, but I wasn't hurt to say goodbye to some of them. I did like the chemistry between the mfc and mmc. It's a slow buildup between the two which I enjoy. I love open door romances, but quite honestly, I could have done without it in this one. There is more emotional impact in their kissing scenes than in the sex scenes. I think the author's way of writing those scenes isn't for me. Around the 60% mark when the story really takes off with action scenes with the monsters and more information about how some of the monsters are infected. The ending was nice! I have a ton of questions about the Vosters (Priests), what happened to Odessa and Evie, and what is the true plan of the Gold King. Unfortunately those will be answered at a later date since book 2 hasn't been announced 🫠.

[tsukioka-clusterfuck]

Intro

Preferred name: Kogane Tsukioka ⚔ / Kogane

Subsystem name (for formality's sake, not used often): Tsukioka Cluster

Collective pronouns: she/her

This is a sideblog for my median subsystem, which has 2 main "halves", not counting individual facets:

Kogane Tsukioka ⚔ (she/her): from Idolm@ster Shiny Colors, Fictionkind / fictive, human / were-koopa, alloaroapl lesbian, questioning protector archetrope, the subsystem's main identity

Bowser (he/it): from Super Mario Bros, walk-in-turned-fableing/wereside

We like and follow from @thepluralmaster. That is my system's main account.

No specific DNI, don't be a dick, I block people who bother me, same deal as our main blog.

Notes:

This blog gets a blanket NSFW warning. It may not have much on typical sexual acts, but there's a high possibility of encountering certain kink / fetish themes such as transformation / TF (most of which are nonsexual). Minors are advised not to follow.

For the most part, I prefer to be seen as a single individual under the name of Kogane Tsukioka. Bowser can be mentioned separately from me, but he very rarely talks. Most of the talking is done by me. We can't be neatly separated, but at the same time we can't be "just" one person.

The ⚔ emoji is there to differentiate myself from my in-sys double who signs off with 💗. She wouldn't use this account, she'll use our main system blog instead. I likely wouldn't use this emoji outside of this intro and this blog's description, but I'm writing this here anyway for clarification.

Both halves may behave differently at different times due to the nature of our subsystem. I may really hate being a were one day and feel neutral towards it the next day.

I use "were" as the main term for my were-koopa identity because of its strong ties to werewolf tropes. I'm a human who turns into a fearsome beast in a very similar way werewolves are portrayed. I acknowledge that my experiences are pretty standard for kin/therians, but kin/therian terms don't quite fit me because I don't really see myself as Bowser, or even a member of the same species as him, despite frequently turning into something heavily resembling him. I see myself as a human, Bowser sees himself as a koopa.

I describe my form changes in a physical way. These changes happen in headspace, and all of it feels very real to me because that's where my true body is. This bullet point serves as a short clarification for how I describe this, since I don't primarily use shifting terms for those. If you’re bothered by that, I recommend staying away from this blog. I’ll try to remember to use the tag “#headspace body lore” for ones that sound more unambiguously like I’m talking about shared reality, stuff like biological claims, but that’s not a guarantee.

We welcome source talk. We're much more familiar with the Idolm@ster franchise than Mario. We're not exactly the biggest Mario media connoisseur or anything, but we're familiar with some of the games and the Illumination movie. Of course, we may refuse to talk about something if it makes us uncomfortable.

[fabledgamez]

Intro!

Hello Tumblr! My intro is beneath the break :)

My name's Fable, Fabled, Fabs, whichever! Not picky :) I'm 17, nearly 18, been in various fandom since 2019 and currently I am in whichever fandom my brain goes 'mhm this is personality now'

< - >

As for my interests, I mainly read fanfics nowadays but gaming-wise it's a tie between Minecraft, InfinityNikki, The Sims 4 and That's Not My Neighbour. I occasionally brave the depths of Roblox for 3008, Farmstead, or Bloxburg, but I'm not on there too often anymore. I'm mainly watching The Apothecary Diaries as of now, but Bungo Stray Dogs is also still on my to-watch list. Right now I'm trying to get my hands on the rest of the PJO books, I only have 1 and 2, but I'm not the most 'actual book' ready person ever so it's on a low-burner.

I'm a fanfic author too, although I have no works currently posted, just endless WIPs, and my focus is right now on a Minecraft story with OCs. Basic 'deposited into game, have to survive' concept. To be honest, I'm only working on characterisation, because that's my favourite part of any media, making OCs. Or OC'ifying existing characters, like I've done with my various Harry Potter fics. Because, well, those characters lack a lot. Mostly I like to make them various forms of queer, though. If I'm gonna write for that fandom may as well do it in a way the author would dissaprove, amirite?

< - >

Now, a dreaded DNI exclaimer! It's very important to me that you read through this and block me if you are one of my DNI's, this is the easiest way for me to avoid talking to people who are in my DNI's. Ofcourse, if I'm interacting with you and don't notice you are my DNI, lmk!

> The basics. No racists, queerphobes, 'MAP' supporters, etc > No MAGAts/Trump supporters/adjacent. This is technically a repeat of the last DNI, but it's worth repeating > Radfems/radical feminists. You all are way too weird about trans guys and the concept of kink > No DSMP-antis, no Dream/George/Wilbur stans. Yes this warrents it's own rule. I'm a former DSMP fan, and I absolutely despise those three men, kindly block me IMMEDIATELY if you support those men > No Zionists. No, I'm not 'against Jewish people', I'm against racist supremacy. Thanks! > No people who want censorship in anyway. Yes, this includes people who want censorship on AO3. Don't like, don't read. I don't support all works on there but it is an ARCHIVE, foremost. Archives are not meant to be censored > People who can't stand tonetags. I use them often because I have trouble with tones

And finally, nobody who actively hates on religion because of it being religion! It's okay to point out flaws, but to be anti-religion is to be against a very human experience of explaining what we do not understand <3 plus, I myself am also religious, ChristoPagan omnitheist, so y'know :)

< - >

Well, that was it I believe :) I will add to if need be, but for now, have a good day/night!

[heartofsparrow]

[If I may ask, can you share any details about your Fable DnD game? that sounds fun!]

oh of course!!! i am SO glad someone asked me about this because i am thoroughly insane about this

so i’m the dm, and it’s currently set in between fable 2+3 (closer to 3 in the timeline). a lot of this is based on my personal interpretation of canon/my headcanon

our pcs have been dubbed The Queen’s Guild, as they have been enlisted by queen Sparrow as a kind of special forces of albion

ronin [balverine shifter, paladin/barbarian]: originally from bloodstone, aforementioned son of reaver. a very angsty teen, who has very quickly befriended logan.

rowan [human dweller, bard/wizard]: an apprentice of sabine and his scribe. utterly insane /pos. his chosen bardic instrument is a yamaha keyboard, which simultaneously entrances and baffles the citizens of albion (because it’s MEDIEVAL ENGLAND)

val [kalashtar, sorcerer]: from samarkand, raised in the monastery where garth lives. his patron quori/spirit is the last dragon in albion, who he lives to avenge. bless this man, pure of heart dumb of ass

cirella [tiefling, archon’s bloodline hero (homebrew class lol)]: as tieflings don’t really exist in fable, she is the product of one of her ancestors making a deal with a demon door. she was raised hidden, apart from society as her parents were ashamed of her appearance. she is the sweetest girl in the world actually

there’s SO much more to this campaign but this is just like. a basic intro to it. all the characters have their own ties to sparrow and the crown, and i’m super blessed to have awesome players who work with my crazy ideas and bring these characters to life in such amazing ways @cazyjo @iblogabout-stuff (rowan and ciri, respectively)

i’m so eager to talk about this campaign lol

[fulgurbugs]

What was your first video game?

earliest video game i can remember is playing my dads copy of fable 2 and doing the intro over and over and over lol

[musicwithemmy]

intro post

hii! my name is emmy and i’m 19! i wanted to start a blog dedicated to music so here it is! you’ll see stuff like song/albums recs, spotify history, or just talking random artist.

my main blog which i’ll be more active is @mymoonss where i mainly talk about the marauders and 911 :)

my top 10 artist of 2025 (according to stats.fm as of 3/14/25):

1. billie eilish

2. cigarettes after sex

3. gigi perez

4. girl in red

5. beabadoobee

6. harry styles

7. suki waterhouse

8. the neighbourhood

9. arctic monkeys

10. conan gray

my top 10 songs of 2025 (according to stats.fm as of 3/14/25):

1. normalcy - gigi perez

2. fable - gigi perez

3. wildflower - billie eilish

4. blue - billie eilish

5. the greatest - billie eilish

6. bittersuite - billie eilish

7. fine line - harry styles

8. sailor song - gigi perez

9. l’amour de ma vie - billie eilish

10. please be rude - gigi perez

(you can fs see my top artist here, i listen to a lot of cas but im pretty positive all 10 songs have been on my monthly playlists since at least november)