Arthur Fun Novels & Stories

I asked, smiling. “He’s getting there,” Arthur said, tapping his temple. “He’s distracted by the new librarian, who may or may not be fencing stolen rare books through the annual book sale.” He winked. “It’s pure nonsense, of course. But it’s my nonsense.” This was our new, peaceful rhythm. His playful, fictional world existed alongside my quiet, real one. We were in our own orbits, content.

I stopped in my tracks and looked at him wide-eyed, noticing the barely suppressed smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, go on!” I exhaled and lightly punched his shoulder with my fist. “But at least you’re smiling now,” he said, laughing. One of the things I really love about Arthur is how easy he is to talk to. He always finds a way to lift your mood. His jokes… on anyone else, they might be annoying, but not with him. There’s no malice in his teasing, no hidden intent to hurt, so you simply can’t get mad at him. He can spin everything in such a way that it’s impossible to stay upset.

"It's marigold, Mr. Ravencourt. And it brings warmth to a space that otherwise looks like a corporate autopsy room. If you prefer despair and grey micro-cement, I can give you a brochure." A sharp, barking sound escaped Arthur’s chest. It took Tiffany a second to realize the terrifying patriarch of the Ravencourt empire was actually laughing. "Despair and grey micro-cement," Arthur repeated, a dry, humorless smirk touching the corners of his weathered mouth. He looked back at Julian, whose jaw was clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek. "She has a spine, Julian. More than I can say for the socialite harpies you usually parade around for the tabloids. They smiled when I spoke and agre

My eyes widened in shock when I heard what he said, how did he even get to know about Arthur? I turned towards him, my heart drumming in my chest, I didn't know what he was going to say, and I anticipated it so much. “Arthur isn't who he appears to be in your eyes, Arthur is a businessman, but he is not. He is a mafia who deals with drugs, stolen jewelry, and women, nothing more than that.”

Just an old man who had, for reasons I don’t fully understand, found something in a brief encounter with my son worth holding onto. “I’d like that too,” I said. “I really would.” “Good,” Arthur said, satisfaction clear in the single word. “Then let’s begin properly. How is he today? Up for a phone call from an old man he’s known for considerably less than an hour?” I laughed, surprised. “He’d probably talk your ear off.” “I look forward to it.”

Anastasia then looked at her grandmother and said, "Arthur's condition is very critical. Although his operation was successful, but he has been kept under observation. The doctor said that if his consciousness does not return within 24 hours, he will fall into coma. This is the second time he is fighting with death to save my children. The Arthur I used to know and the Arthur I see now are very different. They are not the same. Arthur George, who was my husband, never thought about anyone but himself; his main purpose in life was to spread his company to every country in the world. His hobby was to earn money; he never went to help others unnecessarily, he did not do anything outside his pur

I couldnt help but laugh just a little when I had a sudden thought. “Sophia” I said pointing around the pink room. “This is. . . beautiful. But how does Arthur manage? He seems very macho in this pink room.” Sophia's laughter filled the room with a bright melodic sound. “Oh come on. Arthur. He is completely okay with it. It makes him think of a fluffy cloud he says. Besides hes too cool to gripe about something like pink. He most likely has a pink motorcycle hidden in the garage.”

Arthur said, a cold, sickening smile spreading across his face. I stared at him in utter shock. "You? You’re an accountant, Arthur! You don't play professional chess!" "Arthur was the Under-20 Canadian National Champion before he went into corporate finance, Mira," Daniel whispered in my ear, his voice trembling with horror. "He gave up classical competition fifteen years ago to run Victor’s money laundering operations... but his blitz rating was 2750! He’s a tactical killer!" Arthur walked over to the wooden table, pulled out the White chair, and sat down. He adjusted his white leather gloves, resting his hands flat on the polished green obsidian board.

NOTHING is ever more important than Ara. That is the thing Ara learned after being discharged from the J Hospital. For whatever reason her parents were convinced that staying with Van is better for her health and safety. Van, short for Vanluke, literally never left her alone even when she’s taking a private bath in a private property mansion somewhere in Luzon near no neighborhood in the middle of a mountain. When she got there something tells her that she’s been there before but recollection of solid memories. Van is incredibly wealthy to have a security team patrolling the corners of his mansion. But more importantly, even if Van does have to leave her side for a brief hour of shower, he’d

********** Arthur fiend's Kingdom. "Nooo!! Those silly prophecy kids are finally coming together. I must complete my evolution as fast as I can." Arthur fiend said. "Rah, how many fauns are remaining?" "It is just sixteen, Leader." Rah answered. "Get them here as fast as you can. You can't delay my evolution for just sixteen faun souls, despite the amount of souls I've sucked." Arthur shouted and Rah went out. "It is time I go to my used to be father's kingdom. Hahahahahaha!!!" ------------------------------