#Kt fic

[kaantt]

New ἀλέξω memes

[pas-de-la-kaamelott]

OH MY GOD NEW MEMENTO MORI CHAPTER JUST DROPPED

[dagss]

and on the wind it howls

cause that second wind is coming, love, it's coming for all we own

and on the creature scratches, it doesn't know how to get out

[saecookie]

Ma vie en plus beau

lire sur ao3

Chapitre : 9/19 Relationships : Guenièvre/Lancelot/Arthur Pendragon, Guenièvre/Lancelot Pour @voralbergg, @trekking-in-a-tardis, @godwithwethands, @bourbon-ontherocks, @pia-writes-things Qui est-il pour lui refuser ? Il sait que la quête du Graal, c’est plus que cela, mais à la fin, le but, c’est la paix des peuples. Et des fois, la paix des peuples, ça commence par un seul individu, ça commence par son meilleur ami.Ou, Arthur écoute un peu mieux Lancelot, et effleure l'idée de se laisser être heureux.

Chapitre 10 : - Je vous avais dit, Demetra. C'est pas ma femme, mon problème. - Ah ben tiens. Je suis quoi alors, si je suis pas votre problème ?

[aramielles]

"S'il meurt pendant le trajet je vous empoisonne ou je vous tranche la gorge. C'est bien clair ?"

ἀλέξω : ἄνεμος.

❛ I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king

I need my golden crown of sorrow, My bloody sword to swing, I need my empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology

I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king

'Cause I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king ❜

King ; Florence + the machine.

JOYEUX SECRET SANTA DAY - NOEL @kaantt

[theredcuyo]

Maybe i just want to lie to myself but let me present you this (I'm curious of what Phil is gonna say, but for now, this)

If Lullah and Chayanne are the kids of death, maybe they've ascended and now, were expecting the lady of death waiting for them, or their papa, or who knows, except that it's none of them who awaits

It's a tall man, with long, pink, soft looking hair, a crown and a blood red cape, looking at them almost indifferent to their presence, though they can barely tell behind the half mask of a pig that covers his face

Chayanne is INMIDIATELY on the defensive side to protect his sister, more like a reflex than a conciously effort because weirdly enough, the presence feels familiar, almost nostalgic but he doesn't want to give in, that's until after a few seconds they hear the man chuckle "Really, old man?"

They share a confused, yet defensive look to each other "Bruh, i'd figure you told them how i look, but no, old man's memory even forgets that"

"Who are you?"Finally spits Lullah, and her brother can't tell wether she's scared or not. The pig guy shakes his head before kneeling just enough to be at their same height, they take a step back and he softeness his eyes. "I'm just someone who took on this kingdom, you know, after abolishing all goverment of man"

That... Sounds awfully familiar, an old story dad told them before to bed when they were younger, a person who they know even if they never met, Lullah speaks before her brother can think, her voice is little, insecure, afraid to be wrong. "Uncle ...Techno?"

He stares at them for a second, but his face doesn't give any signal of what for away. "I guess i'll take that, yes, i'm Technob-

And before he finishes, two little arms are trapping him thightly, the little boy who hadn't utter a word until then just had put together all the stories he so loved to be told, conquering over the world, destroying a country, farming more potatoes than people on earth, those stories about his dad's friend, someone everyone was afraid of but admired just as much, his older brother who he had never met, his hero.

"HUH?" It took Techno by surprise, and he had barely has time to react by the time another pair of arms were holding onto him for dear existence, this, this hadn't been what he expected, but it was a calculated risk, but he had thought Phil's kids to be more careful with strangers.

|||

Just a silly little idea, its bittersweet i think, i'm not that updated on Phil's lore, but i hope this makes sense

[cowboydk]

SILVER LININGS, GOLD AND SHINING

Summary: Complicated was the first word that came to mind regarding your relationship with one Jeong Yunho. He was your very best friend, your other half, the person you went to with everything. He also was someone you slept with fairly regularly. If anyone asked, the pair of you just said you were the very best of friends. That’s all it was, right? What happens when the lines start to blur even more than they already are? Or when others coming into the mix throws everything you thought you knew out the window? Do you let things fall apart or fight for a new normal?

Pairing: Non-idol!Jeong Yunho x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Strong/Mature language (I swear too often it is inevitable with me, sorry 😔), sexual content (jokes/implied sexual content/sexual themes), eventual smut, unprotected sex, angst. Minors DNI! More specific warnings will be put on each chapter. 

Genre: Fluff, angst, best friends to best friends with benefits?, idiots to lovers!!

A/N: Eeeep, hi!! This is a concept I’ve actually had in my noggin for quite a few months now. I haven’t written a fic in quite some time, so please be gentle with me. On top of that, this is my first descent into the ATEEZ fic world! I hope you enjoy it!!

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

PART SEVEN

PART EIGHT

INCOMING SOON.

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 4

4. Overstimulation, Oviposition/Egglaying, Human Urinal

notes: this was inspired by this incredible fic from @naromoreau, thank you so much for putting naga!crowley into my mind! also this is super monster-fucky. i do not apologise.

afab!reader

biologically this is not at all how snakes work but uhhhhhhh Crowley is a demon so I’m allowed creative license 🤷‍♂️

Crowley’s been irritable. 

Snapping, brooding, being generally difficult to be around. You can tell Aziraphale doesn’t love it either, but he’s at least had the commodity of knowing Crowley for longer. In fifty years of happy romance between the three of you this is the first time that your demon has ever gotten on your nerves, and you won’t stand for it. 

“Look,” you say through gritted teeth after he’s barked at you for some unrealised slight, “you’re in a mood. But it isn’t my fault, and it isn’t Aziraphale’s, so stop taking it out on us.”

Aziraphale freezes and looks between the two of you. Crowley raises himself up to his full height… and then deflates.

“Sorry,” he mutters, running a hand over his face. “You’re right, it isn’t your fault. I’m just…”

He trails off, and you can tell he’s trying to work out if he should admit something. You close the gap and take his hand.

“Crowley, love. If there's something the matter you need to tell me. Tell us. We can help!”

Is he blushing? It’s hard to tell, as he turns his face away.

“Look, I’m just a bit… worked up.”

“Oh! …Oh. Well, there’s no reason we can’t assist with that?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Crowley sighs. You look over to Aziraphale. He clearly has more of an idea of what’s going on, but knows it’s Crowley’s truth to tell. “It’s demon breeding season.”

Your cheeks get hot all of a sudden.

“Oh, I see. I didn’t even realise they had one of those.”

“Well, of course. Otherwise where would new demons come from?” he asks, baffled at your confusion. You suppose you don’t have an answer for that.

“So what do you need to do?”

“Well, usually I’d just slither downstairs and find someone receptive and we’d –”

“No!” you say, suddenly, with such force it makes both of your partners jump. In the future you’ll experiment more with other bodies, engage in orgies so you can watch Aziraphale and Crowley be fucked (and become smug in the way it’s never quite as good as when you do it) but for now the idea of your demon being in bed with anyone but the people in this room shreds your heart. “I mean, look. You don’t need to do that. I’ll help.”

“We’ll help,” Aziraphale says softly. You know this must be quite a gap for him to bridge, having known Crowley when he’s been going through these heats before, but now knowing him as a lover. Crowley looks between the two of you, strangely touched.

“Are you certain? I don’t look… I’m a bit more demonic when I need to mate.”

The idea sends a chill down your spine to straight between your legs.

“That’s fine,” you say, a little too quickly. Despite it all, Crowley grins.

“Alright. Get to the bedroom. I’ll be right with you.”

🐍

You strip down, quickly, excitedly. Secretly you’ve wondered about what Crowley looks like when he’s a proper demon for a while. Hellfire caressing your skin? Horns to grab onto? Your mind is going a mile a minute.

You turn to Aziraphale. He’s removed his cravat and overcoat, and is currently turning up his sleeves to the elbow. You look at him, confused.

“Are you not going to…?” you gesture to your bare body. Aziraphale smiles.

“I think this might be something you want to experience by yourself first, love.”

You open your mouth to ask him what that means, but you’re distracted by the sound of a door creaking.

Crowley slithers in.

No, literally.

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this. The top half of him is the Crowley you know. Bronzed skin, copper hair down his back, yellow eyes with blown-wide snake pupils. 

But that isn’t the only part of him that’s serpentine.

From his hips onwards, he is entirely tail. Black scales rippling as he moves towards you, osteoderms moving with his breath. He looks both entirely like and unlike himself, a strange creation of familiar and not. 

He is beautiful.

“Oh,” is all you can manage from where the rest of your body has frozen. You know it was the wrong move, because Crowley looks deflated.

“You don’t like it,” he says with a sigh, and you immediately feel terrible. What he means is ‘you don’t like me.’ You can hear the sadness tinging his voice. So you step forward, hand out, careful.

“No, love, it’s not that at all. Just give me a moment to… adjust.”

You move forward, unsure how to touch him. Aziraphale’s voice whispers from behind you:

“Go on, nightingale. He won’t hurt you.” And then, after a beat, when the angel realises what you’re really worried about, “you won’t hurt him.”

You run your palm along the soft heat of his scales and Crowley sighs, both in relief and in excitement. You take your time, exploring the pattern of him, the curve of his tail. You don’t realise but soon he’s begun to curl around you, wrapping you up gorgeously tight in his coils. Soon your legs are totally engulfed by him. 

“Isss thisss alright, nightingale?” he asks, voice low. You try to move and find that you can’t, really, but at the same time you’re fine with it - you know the one holding you is someone you trust with your life.

“Very,” you laugh. You feel someone embrace you from behind and realise Aziraphale has crossed over to you, his chest against your back, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You give yourself over to the strange new feeling of being held like this.

“So now what?” you ask, looking at Crowley’s tail, trying to work out how he mates. It doesn’t take you long to find it: a slit towards where his groin would be, beginning to leak slick down his scales. You run your fingers over it and Crowley gasps, shuddering. “Do you need me to touch you here?”

Crowley shakes his head, breathless with delighted chuckles.

“No. Well, I want you to, but that doesssn’t have to be part of it.”

You decide that you want to as well. You press into him there, his cloaca, and giggle when he leans forward to rest his forehead on your free shoulder.

“Fuck…” he groans. 

“If you’re offering,” you say, cheekily. Both your partners huff a laugh, and as you explore deeper into him, you feel something beginning to emerge. You remove your hand to make way, expecting some sort of appendage… and to be fair, it is, but not one you’ve ever seen before.

“What’s that?” you ask, breathless and both bewildered and gleeful.

“That’sss… what I use to lay my eggs.”

A beat passes.

“Hmm.”

“Sssstill game?”

“Crowley, am I going to get pregnant from this?” you ask with very real concern. A hand comes up to caress your face, a thumb swipes across the plush of your lips.

“No, love. I’d need to fertilissse them too, and I won’t do that. I jusssst need sssomewhere to, erm. Push them.”

Well, you’ve come this far. Over the last fifty years the three of you have introduced many things into the bedroom: lace, leather, toys. But as your demonic lover says he wants to lay eggs inside you while your angelic one helps you brace for it, it’s nice to know that there’s still some surprises you can give each other.

You nod, and lay back. Crowley’s eyes go wide.

“You’re sssure?”

“Yes, love. Of course.”

What leaves his cloaca is a tube, for want of a better term. It’s just over a foot long and dripping with slickness. It seems to give him pleasure as it releases, you know what he looks like when he’s about to orgasm, and when it twists its way towards you all you can do is relax into his tail, into Aziraphale’s arms.

The angel threads his fingers through yours and holds you tightly. 

“You’ll be fine, darling.”

“You don’t seem very surprised about any of this,” you say, breathlessly. A thought occurs to you. “Hang on, have you done this before?”

Aziraphale goes bright pink.

“Erm…”

“Once,” Crowley hisses, grinning - have his teeth gotten sharper? No, he’s just grown fangs - “yearsssss ago. Before either of ussss met you.”

“I was a friend helping another friend,” Aziraphale says quickly, a line he’s clearly been using to justify his lust for years. You can’t help but laugh at your utterly daft and obtuse lovers, and that’s good – it loosens you up and allows Crowley to slip inside your cunt.

You’re already quite wet from the new, explorative play that’s come so far, but the tube is slick and searching. It surges up inside you, far inside you, further than either of their cocks have ever hit, but it doesn’t hurt. Something about what it’s secreting is relaxing your inner muscles and allowing it access into your core. You gasp as you feel Crowley root himself there, and the demon moans.

“Fuck. You’re…”

You’re too overstimulated to reply, so just nod. Yes. He is, too. Across the width of your shoulders you see Aziraphale kiss Crowley, soft and long.

“You are so lovely like this, Crowley.”

“Gorgeous,” you manage, honestly, and Crowley looks like the praise might make him burst. Settling back into the moment he locks his eyes on yours, serious, sincere.

“”I’m going to ssstart now. It might feel a bit sssstrange, but I promisssse it will be good.”

“It is,” Aziraphale agrees, shyly. You smile, and nod. You trust them.

Crowley closes his eyes and you see him squeeze. Something travels through his tube, passing through him and up inside you. The strange spherical nature of the object has you gasping, firstly in surprise and then in pleasure. The press of it is strange and illicit and when it pops inside of you, you try to roil; you can’t though. Crowley has you too tightly.

“That’sss the firsssst one.”

“Oh my god,” you moan.

“Are you alright?”

“Keep going,” you command, your voice no-nonsense. And Crowley does. Another egg passes from inside him to inside you, pressing through your cervix with no issue to deposit safely. After four of them you’re beginning to feel a bit full. By seven, you can feel the eggs jostling around inside of you, an unusual and filthy intimate slide. Your silky insides are making them the perfect home.

“How… how many are there?” you breathe. Crowley’s face is drenched with sweat, his eyes rolling back in his head. From his cloaca a fresh stream of cum drips onto the tops of your thighs.

“Usually ten or twelve.”

“Twelve?!” you gasp, not sure how you’ll fit those, but willing to try. On cue, another egg presses your vulva apart and nestles in deep. 

You’re showing them now, stomach starting to stretch. It doesn’t hurt though. It feels wonderful. You’ve never been so full before, your body warm and deliciously thrumming. You look over your shoulder to where Aziraphale is holding you, in some strange approximation of a husband helping a wife give birth. His eyes are firmly fixed on your abdomen, lips slightly apart, cheeks bright red.

“Aziraphale?”

“Sorry, darling. You just look…” he trails off, instead choosing to rest his hand on your stomach. You moan as he bumps the eggs inside you, and for a moment you’re swept up in it, and think it wouldn’t be so bad to have Crowley make them viable, maybe you’d quite like carrying his clutch, so long as the two of them looked after you like this.

The last two eggs come at once, one right after the other, filling you to the brim. You can feel them taking up the tunnel to your core, hardly fitting in properly. You whine and try to find a way to feel comfortable, but you’re so full, so needy, and they’re pushing against that sweet spot inside you, and –

You come unexpectedly, an orgasm wracking your body wildly. It takes over your every sense with a crashing wave, your cunt tightening and spasming as Crowley finally withdraws. You’ve never been so stuffed in your life and it’s wonderful.

“How long… How long do they stay?” you manage when your heart is finally at a normal pace again.

“A couple of hoursss, until they realissse they’re not going to grow. Then they’ll disssssolve.”

“Dissolve?!”

“It won’t hurt, my love,” Aziraphale assures you, hand still protectively on your bump. “In fact it’s somewhat of an aphrodisiac.”

You moan and collapse into them. You’re not sure how you’re going to survive this.

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael

[kaantt]

A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY DEAR FRIEND @kabbal

Here's my gift 🎁

Dans cette anthologie publiée en avril 2022 le théoricien Eugène Molozay, spécialiste de la légende arthurienne et de la littérature du Haut Moyen-Âge, s'intéresse à la représentation de la relation entre le roi de Bretagne Arthur Pendragon et le pirate Venec.

Dans cette anthologie il présente des textes historiques, des extraits de romans et des œuvres de fanfictions traitant de la question. Il propose également ses analyses de leur relation et de l'évolution de leur représentation dans les objets culturels et dans la tradition historiographiques.

Editions Kaanttomime - Collection TM

[pas-de-la-kaamelott]

NOUVEAU CHAPITRE DE MEMENTO MORI C’EST PARTIIII

[dagss]

omg only one room

[saecookie]

Ma vie en plus beau Chapitre 8

Arthur n’a pas le temps de dire « hein, quoi ? », ni même de ravaler un sanglot, que Lancelot se lève et l’entraîne à sa suite, une main dans la sienne, un sourire dans ses yeux. Ils doivent apparemment aller voir Guenièvre. Il ne sait pas pourquoi, mais il est prêt à faire confiance, pour une fois, peut-être pour la première fois depuis très longtemps.

(lire sur ao3)

[aramielles]

vous allez voir c’est drôle

[qprstobin]

I think some of y'all don't know how to make Mike sympathetic or redeemable or whatever without turning his trauma into internalized homophobia. Like the kid has had SOOO much shit happen to him/in front of him and yet every fic has him basically being a brat bc he can't handle his feelings for Will. He's a traumatized kid he's allowed to be a bit of dick honestly without automatically turning it into a shipping thing

[lothcatthree]

“Your thoughts. I can feel them. Force, Din, you don’t even know,” Luke huffs a humorless laugh, “Our bond, it’s… it’s weaker than it’d be with another Force user, but I can still see your thoughts when they’re that strong. I can… feel what you’re feeling,” Luke explains, unsure if he’s making any sense. Din’s hands freeze on his face and Luke feels a wave of both slight embarrassment and undeniable arousal through the Force. “You could… you mean you could see what I was thinking? Just then?” Din asks, his words slow as he puts the pieces together. Luke reaches his gloved hand to wrap around one of Din’s wrists and he holds his gaze. “Yes. All of it,” Luke breathes.

-

Din gets bored during a meeting and doesn't realize that Luke can feel his thoughts.

Yes, all of them.