#and Oberon as soon as he comes out.

[gachaparadise]

qsh carried my stupid ass through the grail front hard, so as repayment I'm finally grailing them to 100.

#was gonna just give them the one grail from the front but ahh... I have 30 of 'em so reason not to toss a few my beloved moths way #I don't really plan out my grail use very much. I feel like I already did my big targets #now my lvl 100s are Gil Douman Amakusa and soon QSH #and Oberon as soon as he comes out. #I dropped a grail on Caster Gil as well because... well idk #i genuinely don't remember doing that buy he's lvl 85 so i must've done it at some point #post: chatter #fg0

[whore-ibly-hot]

"A Servant and His King."

Yandere!Fae-King x Fae!servant x. Fem! Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, coercion, fae related hijinks, basically monster fucking, oral (fem receiving), loss of virginity, clit play, p-in-v sex, power dynamics.

(A/N): Part two to a non-smutnfic about Puck, based off of puck from 'Midsummer Nights Dream'. Can be read with or standalone.

Part one (not required to understand)

A brief gust of wind and leaves rattles the shutters of your small cottages window, not sounding out of place when mixed with the usual sounds of the forest. However, the gust turns softer as it gently brushes against the shutters, causing them to open slowly with a creak.

A pair of feet land nimbly upon the wooden dresser across the room from your bed, a shadowy figure squatting down with a grin. The figure hops down, making its way to your bed, where you sleeping form lies blissfully unaware of the intruder.

Groaning, you are soon roused from your slumber by a light pressure on your wrist, and your eyes flutter open. You gasp, seeing the being before you and trying to pull away. "

"W-who are you! Stay awa-" a finger is pressed softly to your lips, the figures face coming into view as the lean forward. Forest green eyes and a set of familiar pearly whites greet you.

"Shh! No need to fear, only Puck is here." He coos, kissing your wrist once more, pressing the soft flesh to his lips. "Sorry to frighten you, little mortal. I would never mean to upset you, but I couldn't very waltz in through the entrance to your humble abode, especially given your mother's feelings about my kind." He lays his lithe body across yours, head on your chest as he looks at you with glee.

"Why are you here, Puck? It's late, I must rest." You say, though you don't resist the fae boys touching. "Sleep is important for humans."

He scoffs. "I know, but I have something more important than your human need for sleep. My king, Oberon, leader of the seelie court wishes to meet you." He pulls you up by your shoulders, a hand fixing your nightgown which begins to slip from your shoulder.

"T-the king?" You're just a human woman, a peasant. You've never even met a human noble, much less a faery king. "Why? Puck, I'm not, I can't! Now? I'm not dressed properly, I'm a human, I-"

Once again, a finger is placed against your lips. Invading your space as per usual, Pucks forehead is pressed against your forehead, nose to nose. "Shush, little mortal. Please, the king loves me. I am his jester-servant, his beloved Puck! We've shared many a-" he chuckles. "Amourous night together. He knows if your good enough for me, then your good enough to meet him. Don't discredit yourself, you are so much more than some mortal maid I take in the woods for a night of passion." He makes her sit up, and tries to slip her out of the bed. "He'll love you, my sweet. It's only proper I introduce my new beloved friend to my closest companion, ruler, and my king." You allow him to pull you out of your bed, and into his lanky form.

"Mmph, Puck. I can walk." You groan, trying to wriggle from his grasp. He tsks with his tongue, and shakes his head.

"No, no, no. Don't whine, don't go away. Be good. It's a long stroll all the way to the spring we're going to, just relax." He cackles. "You humans are so indecisive. Just a moment ago you were whining, 'Puck, no. It's too late, I'm a human, I need my sleep.', now you won't let me carry your frail, tired self to see the king. Make up your mind."

You roll your eyes, but suppose he has a point, and allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, shoulders flush against his pecs.

As he slips back through the window and dances through the glen, weaving through trees and brush like a gust of cool night air, he soon arrives upon a clearing. Smooth rock reflect moonlight, as the water resting atop them comes from the babbling freshwater spring that rests at the edge of the rocks. A figure, imposing and much more muscular than Puck's is sat on one of the rocks, admiring the water.

Puck gently sets you down with nimble hands, kissing your ear lightly. This causes you to squeak and push him off.

"Stop it, Puck! I-im about to meet a king and your acting like we're lovers! Like your an enamored schoolboy!" You exclaim, and his hands only wrap around your waist from behind, playing with the cloth there.

"And here I thought we were lovers..." He feigns a sad face and a pout, before jolting forward and taking you with him by the waist. "My king!" He yells.

The imposing figure looks over, causing you to freeze, mind not really in synch with body as Puck drags you forward. The king is truly a thing of beauty, rugged and piercing as if he were carved, not from stone, but from the wood that made up the forest which he called his domain. He wears a fur pelt around his waist, covering his only upper thigh and not leaving much to the imagination. His is decidedly hairy, and though beautiful is as rugged as a human man of the woods is expected to be. He has dark curls of hair not unsimilar to Puck's, but not as long. His eyes are a deep brown.

"Ah, Puck, my fair servant friend. I was almost afraid you had planned to trick me, having not shown yet." The king muses, legs spread casually and a hand resting against his chin.

Puck gasps, hand to his chest as if hurt. "Never, my liege. Well, at least not to you." Puck coos, sitting on the rock and curling up to the man's calve. The king runs his hands through the curls of the fae man, and you are taken aback by the sensuality of their interaction.

The king looks up. "And you, little mortal, must be my Pucks new favorite thing, hmm?" He asks, head tilted. You nod nervously as the man waves you closer. You bow, and he grins. "Good, good. I assume she knows who I am then? I am King Oberon, of this enchanted woods and over all of the seelie court. Though, my servant here told me you knew little to nothing of our people when asked you about us, so I doubt you'd know what the seelie court is."

You shake your head. "No, sir. All I know-" you glance at Puck, who is practically purring at his kings touch. "All I know is what Puck has told me. That you are powerful, and to be respected."

Oberon grins at this. "That is all you need know. Come here, allow a king to gaze upon you." His hands begin to wander, cupping your face. His large fingers prod your plump lips, your cheeks, and tilts your chin downwards to look at him from where he is sat. Then, the hand is on your shoulder, playing with the straps of your upper garment, then at your chest. This sudden touch in such an intimate place causes you to jolt back. Oberon raises a brow.

"I'm sorry, sir. That is, that is just a very intimate place for humans. It's for sensual matters, when between two adults." You try to explain. Puck sighs, leaning his head on Oberons knee while the king chuckles.

"I am aware. It is intimate and sensual for fae too. That is why you were being touched there." He says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Now, you are only more confused.

"Well, intimacy of those matters between humans happens between a-a married couple, and even then, it should not be openly discussed. A woman like myself couldn't, shouldn't ever bee with a stranger like that, not even a suitor before marriage!"

"I have heard humans are... less indulgent in the passions of life than fae. All those awful, boring rules. And yet you kill your leaders and revolt because your miserable? Perhaps. Eing unable to express those urges is why." He laughs, and Puck joins in. He sense your confusion and continues. "Fae do not believing in brief enjoyment and indulgence. We live life to the fullest. Our liquor is stronger yet we drink more, our food is richer, yet we all eat like kings. And most of all, we indulge in the passions of the flesh with each other more than your little mind could take. I think if you had the opportunity, you'd see it was the best way to live." He muses.

To your suprise, he suddenly moves Puck up from his calve to his lap, holding the thin man by the waist as Puck grins wickedly. "You see, me and my servant here are close, emotionally and physically. We have enjoyed many a night of passion, without the watchful eye of my queen, of course." There is some bitterness in Oberon's tone at the mention of his queen.

"You... you indulge in passion with those, of the same gender as you, o-often?" You ask. It is not wrong, you are just so suprised and curious. You are not even supposed to think about a man pleasing a woman, let alone a man and another man. It is such a foreign idea.

"Mhmm. Being a king is hard for his majesty, and Puck... I, am happy to help him with his desires. My king cares for me, and I care for him." Puck says, before gasping and cutting off. You blush, seeing Oberons hand has slipped below Pucks leafy loincloth, hand stroking Puck manhood. He focuses only on the tip for now.

"I am suprised seeing as you are so shocked by how touchy and sensual fae are, seeing as you bedded my dear servant." Oberon says, and you immediately shake your head.

"No! I've never, me and Puck did nothing together. We drank a little, but he took me home." You exclaim, and look st Ouck for answers. He's too busy letting out soft whimpers and moans as Oberon moves his hand the full length of Pucks cock, paying attention to his bulbous tip.

"Is this true, Puck? I find it hard to believe, my servant can't keep his hands to himself. I suppose this makes you seem even more special to me, that my Puck would wish to see you again so desperately, and rave about you to me even if he had not bedded you yet. That begs the question though..." He leans in to Puck's ear. "Why did you lie to your king?"

Puck groans, brows furrowing. "M' sorry, your majesty! I knew you were so busy, and if I told you I had found a mortal capable of giving such incredible pleasure, you'd be more likely to come and see what a treasure I had found." He stammers. The king shakes his head, slowing his movements on Puck's cock.

"You know better than to lie to a king with a temper, Puck."

Puck cries out, bucking his hips and trying to chase that friction against his kings rough hands. "N-no sir! Trust me, I know if she'd just indulge, the mortal would be wonderful! She... she could be our mortal, not just mine! Please sir, I'll be good, she'll be good, don't stop." He begs.

Oberon sighs, still frowning in Pucks direction but intrigued nonetheless. "Alright, mortal girl. I yell you, if you would only let go, indulge just a bit in the pleasures of the fae, you would live a better life overall. And, should you please a king of the woods, perhaps your... what is it your mother does? Herbs? Perhaps they would see a better yield. An enchantment perhaps?" He offers.

You gulp, body hot with both arousal at the sight before you and anxiety. "I couldn't. What would the people in town think, I-I would be outcast!"

"Who would know? Even if someone were to find out, no one would believe a quiet gardeners daughter slept with a wicked spirit." The king teases, tongue poking out from between his lips slightly. He pulls you to him, and you offer no resistance. "For an untouched maiden, I assure you there is no one better to introduce you to a world of pleasure than the king, and his most loyal servant."

As he says this, the moaning Puck latches his lips onto your neck, continuing to moan as he sucks the soft flesh. You gasp.

"Oh, oh, gods." You squeak, the sensitive skin of your nape never having been touched, much less kissed in such a way.

"No gods, here, mortal. No angels or demons, only fae. Only the spirits of nature." He leans into your ear, kissing the shell. "Only your king."

Soon, a rough hand gets your skirt pooled around your knees, kneading the fat of your thigh and preparing to spread your legs and allow the fae king and his srmervant a view of the untouched treasure that lies there. You shiver as the cold air brushes across your stomach, you've never felt so exposed.

"See, highness? I told you, she's the perfect, pretty little mortal. Tease her, please? For me? I want to see her face as she experiences pleasure for the first time." Puck begs.

Oberon raises a brow and the request. "Such demands from a liar who has already been granted mercy, and is still being pleasure bu the hands of a king." He pulls his hand from Ouck's cock, causing tears to well in the edged faes eyes, having been denied his release.

"Majesty-"

"Enough. I will allow you to tease and prep the maiden, so she may except you king. Before you say anything, be grateful I don't only allow you to watch, or send you home." Puck whines, but grins a little inside. He knows the king enjoys his presence to much to remove him from this sensual scene.

Oberons large hands keep your shoulders flat against the warm stones of the spring, while Puck, still hard beneath his tented loincloth, crawls unceremoniously up between your thighs.

"What are you doing, Puck?" You whisper out softly, looking into his dazzling green eyes. He smiles warmly, pressing his cheek to one of your thighs.

"I assure you, maiden, my wicked tongue is not only good for japes and jabs." He coos. You are still confused at what he could mean, until the two thin fingers parting your folds are replaced with a hot, wet muscle. Puck licks a stripe teasingly up your center, savoring the flavour but eyes never leaving your face.

Oberon smiles down as he watches your face contort and wrinkle at the new sensation.

"Puck, y-your majesty, what is- oh, what is he doing?" You ask, trying to form a coherent sentence at the odd feeling of pressure and friction against both your clit and your entrance as Puck explores your folds.

"It's called cunnilingus, maiden. Fae have many ways to pleasure each other, but many enjoys the feel of one's mouth on their most intimate areas." He chuckles as he watches Puck tasting you curiously. "Sometimes, I find filling his mouth is the only way to quiet him." Puck giggles, and the vibrations make your legs quake.

Soon, the muscle invades your entrance, as Puck is now groaning almost as much as you. It's a gentle stretch, but both Ouck and Oberon know it will be necessary for what the king is to do later. Your aroused and needy clit is not forgotten by the fae pleasuring you, as a free hand comes to tweak it gently. The feeling is overwhelming, and soon, that knot inside you snaps, and you feel a high you've never known. It feels as though currents, waves run through your body as your maidenhood spasms around Pucks tongue.

He removes it, but continues to lap at your spent clit, tasting the juices of your climax. Oberon smiles.

"Was he good, maiden? Did you first touch by a man satisfy?" He asks. You can only weakly nod. "Ah, answer, maiden. Your being addressed by a royal."

"It was... it was very good, m-majesty." You gasp out. You look away at the sheer lewdness of the sight and Oberon crashes his lips to Pucks so that he may taste you on his servants lips.

"She was a divine nectar, my liege." Puck groans, pulling away from the kiss and now trading spots with his king. Now Puck lays by your shoulders, playing with your locks and kissing your neck and jawline while Oberon moves into place.

His chisled body places itself atop you, his sheer size dwarfing you and removing the moonlight from your body, casting a large shadow. You gulp.

"I... I've never done-" he chuckles, cutting you off.

"I'm aware, mortal. All that talk of purity led me to that conclusion. But, you won't be that innocent for long. I will be gentle, but it will hurt at first when you accept me into your sweet cunt. It's all part of the process."

You tense a little at the feeling of something hard, much more rigid than Pucks limp tongue, prodding at your entrance and folds.

"M' scared." You admit. This seems to soften the sensual yet cold king, and he sighs. Even Puck gives him a sad, wide eyes look. He leans down.

"Don't worry, mortal. I will be as gentle as any man has been with a woman. My Puck was never one to be nervous, but I have had lovers in the past who were. I will take care of you." He says.

Puck holds your hand and nuzzles his cheek to yours to provide a semblance of comfort. "It's true. The king is a fair and gentle lover when he wants to be. Don't worry, my friend." He assures.

Oberon strokes your thighs to relax soon, and soon the tip enters your weeping slit. You whine, the intrusion burns a little, especially as he adds a few inches every so often. But, he is slow, and talks you through it.

"Shh, it's alright. Your taking me so well, especially since I am endowed with more than some. Such a good mortal girl, it will feel good once you've stretched to accommodate a fae's cock." He coos.

As he begins to gently thrust, the slightly pain gives way to a burning pleasure. You whimper, his thrusts rocking your ads back against the stone of the spring. His large, curved tip is hitting the right spots, cervix getting pounded by the large man of the forest.

"O-oh, shit! Oberon, please- please, m-more! I need all, all of you in me!" You cry, and he chuckles.

"That's your womb speaking. This is your first time, you couldn't possibly accommodate all of me. But I will give you what I think, ugh, what I think you can take." He thursts become rhythmic, rolling in and out of your stretched tunnel, as Puck holds you steady and plays gently with your chest.

Oberon humps against you a few more times, moaning at Pucks encouragement. "She is so close, sire. I can tell, she's all tense and red, come on! Give it to her, let her take you. Please." It's clear Puck is still needy from not having gotten his release earlier. Still, he seems satisfied watching the king fuck his newest treasure.

"Mortal, mortal. You squeeze like a vice, such a warm, needy cunt. You needed this, to feel such pleasure, didn't you? Needed a cock to fill this cunt?" He moans. "It was fate, wasn't it, Puck? Finding this maiden, all alone. It was fate for you to be brought to us." Puck nods as his master continues.

"Your majesty, I'm gonna- its happening again." You cry, and his pace doesn't slow.

"I know, I know. I'm, fuck-" one last thrust sends the king over the edge. He groans, feeling your tunnel convulse around him as his thick white cum fills you. Puck plants quick, overwhelming kisses across your face as you climax, secretly wondering what you would look like if you bore the king's child.

Soon, Oberon pulls out, and you lay there, trembling and on the verge of sleep. Puck leans down and plants a final kiss upon your lips. He smiles.

"Sleep, little mortal. It's okay, you are safe with me and my king. I'll return you to your bed, pretty one." He strokes your hair softly, until your tired eyes close and stay closes. He sighs, and looks at the king. It's clear he could go for a fee more rounds.

"Majesty, our poor mortal needed this so badly, her body was on fire for it. We can't... we can't well let her go back to her little cottage, all alone in the dangerous wood with no one to please her. She's trusting, and she broke all the rules of interacting with fae so quickly, what if a worse one came along and-"

"Puck!" Oberon exclaims, making the imp jolt and go silent. Oberon sighs. "I am not a fool. I know how much this unique mortal has captivated the two of us. You need not convince me to take her back to my palace. As fair as Titania will be concerned, she is a plaything for you, correct? I will not have her cursing this treasure." Oberons muscular arms cradle your slumbering form.

"Majesty, I know of your endurance. Perhaps when we get back to the palace, while our maiden rests, I may please you." Puck asks, eyes wide and innocent.

Oberon scoffs. "All this acting because I didn't allow you to finish, Puck?" Oberon says, seeing through Pucks facade of goodwill and selflessness. Puck pouts.

"Isn't it tempting, though?"

"Perhaps."

#yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere content #tw.dark content #x reader #yandere boy #yandere fae #yandere king #oc Puck #oc Oberon #tw.dubcon #yandere smut #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #oc x reader

[moonit3]

Can I get a uhhhhh dragon yandere (it's ok if u don't btw!! I just love getting presents and the unusual)

yes, you can get a yandere dragon, anon.

WARMTHLESS

➥ warnings/notices: yandere male, obsession, manipulation, kidnapping, forced relationship, age gab (like the dragon is imortal and reader is a young adult), there is a child here, gn! reader, readers uses a cane later in the story, implied violence, implied death.

➥ yandere! dragon x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: the great dragon of the south never expected to become a caretaker of a human child, but luckily he has someone to help him with the task.

➥ a/n: did I love writing this one? yes. however, be warned that it takes a while to the yandere show up his tendencies as I try to make this one feel more ‘realistic’, to make the dragon slowly fall in love with reader with everything going on with their lifes. also, be aware this is quite long.

the great dragon of the south always lived by himself since the beginning of humanity. staying by his own lair on the coldest mountains, he spend most of his cleaning his treasures and watching the humans from a village nearby the mountains.

it’s a lonely life, but that was dragon made for, to live by themself til one day their bodies stop working and then to ascend to the afterlife. that’s what oberon’s ancestors told him, he is destined to be a lonely dragon til his last breath on earth, but that changed after a day.

during the coldest winter that passed in earth, oberon was waking throughout the abandoned path once used by merchants and to his surprise, he finds a human shelter. it’s destroyed, corpses are everywhere and so is blood. what did happened here? it couldn’t be simply raiders who attacked, the marks on the now dead bodies shows sharp claws and the scene is too messy to be made by humans.

his eyes notice one the tents moving, so he steps closer to see what is inside and he made a great discovery. a baby.

“oh, a tiny human.” shaping into his human form, oberon hold the children into his arms as gently as possible and analyze the little one. few drops of blood in their face and despite everything, they aren’t crying like he thought they would. “a brave one, i see…”

the first thing that came to his head was going to village nearby and hand the child to the people there, hoping to find a living relative to raise them. however, there is too much snow for him to travel and using his dragon form is out of question, it would only scary the villagers. so another idea came to his mind, he would take care of the child in meanwhile until the weather changes for good.

inside his lair, the great dragon managed to make a makeshift bed for the tiny human made of old vests and fur of ancient animals he once hunted for fun. despite not being the most appropriate place to a baby rest, the little one probably found to be comfortable as their eyes closed in seconds, leaving oberon alone with his thoughts.

why would an expedition bring a baby with them? any human should know how the cold mountains aren’t a suitable place for a newborn, but he can’t ask it as the child’s probably parents are dead, meaning that he will have to go the humans’ village soon.

the next morning, before the sun raise on the sky, oberon put the heaviest coat to cover his human form and the little one who rest on a handmade baby sling on his chest. with that, he began walking down the mountain and sing a sweet melody to the child stay calm during the trip, it’s working as the two made their way to the village.

step by the step and a three hours late, oberon arrived at the small village after a snowstorm had calm a little, luckily no house or building seems to be torn apart. and pulling the hood down, the baby awake by the soft light of the sun and their giggles made the dragon smile as both approach the closest house.

he knocks at the door and someone opens it quickly, “oh my! what are you doing in a weather like this? please, come in.” oberon enters the tiny house and takes off the hoodie when the door closed behind him. “take a cup of tea, dear traveler.”

the dragon observes how small is the house. the bed serves the same purpose of a couch to watch the fireplace and the only walls inside are the one to separe the bathroom from the rest of the home. it’s so small, but it’s fit a human to live in comfort on their own.

“thank you for let us in.” oberon sit on the edge of the bed, carefully holding the baby and put them to rest on the warm blankets. with his hands now free, he removes his heavy coat and grab a cup of tea to take a sip from it. “may I ask if you have anything to feed a child? if that isn’t too much to ask, my fruits are long gone to the child’s belly.”

“I do have some berries,” the gentle voice of the human make oberon smile, this person simply didn’t notice the horns on his head or they just don’t care at all? “and I think that I might have some strawberries that I brought some days ago…”

as you search for the fruits, oberon analysis the interior of the house. there are a few portraits on the walls, photos that include you with other people he believes to be your family. it’s something that oberon envy from most humans, they can have family and relationships without worrying about immortality, as they live together til the end. while dragons get to live forever with one at their side.

“here I found some, mr…”

“oberon, just oberon.”

a small basket of fruits is now at his side, waiting to be eaten by the time when the child wakes up later. for now, the two share true same roof til the snowstorm ends and for what it’s look, they will have to be together for a while.

“so, why did you came to the village? the snowstorm won’t stop anytime soon and bringing a child so young isn’t the best idea.” the human pour another cup of tea to the dragon before taking a seat on a close chair to take a better look at the baby. “this child isn’t your, am i right?”

“indeed. i found them at destroyed campsite at the mountains, their parents are long gone.” the smile on the human’s face vanish by his words, sad about the true reality of the baby’s parents. “i would take care of the child on my own, but i lack the ability to raise them as I don’t know to take care of another living being.”

oberon felt guilty for what he is going to say next, but he has too. “could you help me raise them? just for a brief amount of time and then i can leave afterwards.”

the humans stay quiet, taking about the proposal gave by the dragon, unaware of his true intentions, “well, it’s sound a good deal.” a smile grown on their lips, a tint red on their cheeks of the idea of getting close to the mysterious man.

“then it’s a deal, mx…?”

“call me [name] and you are?”

“oberon, just oberon.”

times goes on as oberon began to raise the little girl at your side, feeling happy knowing that you let stay at your home without expecting anything in return. it’s a generous act and the dragon knows that not many people would be as nice as you, so he makes sure to keep his value at your small house.

you continue doing the hard work such as cutting the wood for the fireplace to keep the house warm, fishing at the frozen river, going for the market to exchange your products to supplies for the cold winter, that’s your role in the house. while oberon become the main caregiver for the young girl, learning how to take of a baby who always need his attention, changing diapers and teaching her the old tales of mythological creatures he once meet in his dragon form.

life is going smooth, oberon can’t deny that. having someone to help him raise a human kid in an environment with other children sounds better than raising it at his lair, where no one would know their presence. but this life isn’t going too good for you, he can see the dark circles growing under your eyes for working long hours and he notice how sometimes the money wasn’t enough to cover the food, so you would just starve yourself to let him and the child eat. an generous, but foolish act as he doesn’t need to eat as much human does.

“you should eat more, oberon.” that you always say to him every time you give your barely touched plate of food to him. “taking care of a child on your own requires more energy than fishing.”

he tries to talk about it with you, but Oberon always lose the discussion as you give that sweet smile to him. the same smile you have when playing with the child after a long day of working, the very same smile that he has seeing for the last two years. you have endure so much because of him and the kid, oberon feels guilty about it. he sees himself as a failure for not giving or making your life easier, maybe things will change for good when the three of you start living at his lair back at the mountains.

it was another day of work for you and definitely it was exhausting as there war almost nothing that you fished today. the villagers didn’t brought any the tiny fishes you offered, but they felt compassion knowing that you are the sole provider of the house, so they handed you the food they didn’t sell. it was a great gift as you won’t ever forget about it.

going back to your home, you’ve expected to be welcome by the child’s hugs and oberon’s sweet words, asking about your work. however, that didn’t happened. walls empty of the many family’s portraits, the clothes oberon sewed missing, food is gone and the worse, none of them are here. almost like they were nothing, but hallucinations.

you yelled their name, searching the surrounding area of the cabin as the snow gets heavier and the wind colder. there are no footprints of them, no trace of they could’ve been, perhaps your mind is playing tricks. if so, how can you stop it and how can you find the two most important people of your life?

the idea of them simply vanish made you uncomfortable, made you cry in the middle of the snow and scream of frustration. things got worse and you have no idea of to fix it. but a thought came to mind, maybe they went to the village to buy firewood when you were out.

the small chance of seeing them made you get up from the cold snow and clean the tears away from face, ready to go back to the village and ask the others.

unfortunately that never happened.

claws met your shoulder and in a blink of eyes, a dragon began to fly away from your cabin. his wing flapping and creating strong winds as you desperately try to get away from it. you try to yell for help, but the dragon was too high in the sky to anyone hear you scream and no one would be a fool to help you in this situation. so you had no other option than just stay still and hope for the creature don’t drop you. the high ground made you dizzy and without option, your eyes closed by the moment you saw the clouds.

above the clouds and hide from danger, there is a lair of the great dragon do the south. he lives there’s along with two another people and those are his most important treasures, ones that he will never let it go.

the travelers brave enough to climb up there to exchange good with oberon, report the two people living with him are completely opposite.

the oldest, the spouse, always wearing the same expression in the face of tiredness. they use a cane to walk around the lair (now transformed into a cozy home) and some more aware travelers could see the scar on the spouse’s leg. it’s huge, definitely the reason why they need to use a cane to move.

some ask how them how was the accident, curious about the reason behind it. the spouse always replied there was a slippery ice that resulted in them becoming this way, yet some travelers doubt that by seeing fear in their eyes when answering it the dragon is always watching them talking with outsiders, but none pushed forward to know the truth.

and the second treasure is his daughter. an energetic and intelligent girl who is always reading about the world outside, dreaming to go out and explore the many places from the books she have read. her eyes sparkle whatever a traveler tell about the magnificent places she could visit when getting older and she is always writing in her journals about it.

and that’s what she did. finally of age, the little girl now grown as a smart and kind lady left the lair to adventure herself into the unknown. she doesn’t forget about to send magic letters (that literally just spawn at the lair) to her parents, telling about the world and the numerous cultures she has learned.

it’s great to know their daughter is doing okay, but for the great dragon, something is missing of the lair. it’s the silence that irritates him, the lack of a reason behind those make his spouse act happy and joyful with him and the fact they are begging to see the outside world again. it’s been years since the dragon let them walk at the mountain’s feet and the last time they did, the human tried something idiot and got to use the cane for their rest of their life.

they began to make him angry, always asking to be outside for just a little and they won’t stop talking about it! the dragon wanted to keep them occupied to ever think about it and so he found a way to chain them inside the lair once again.

one day, returning to the lair after flying around the southern region, the dragon brought someone else in his arms, a baby. the view of a small figure in the arms of their husband made the human just stare at it, fully scared to ask why there is blood on the child’s face, but brave enough to ask why he brought a kid to the lair.

“it’s our second born, my dear.” what? “you looked so sad after our daughter left, so I believe that being parents once again will make us happier, closer and of course, you will stop nagging about brainless things of going outside. now, you should give our baby a bath, right? I will make dinner for the three of us.”

@moonit3 writings

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #anon #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere writing #yandere headcanons #yandere male #yandere dragon #yandere x gn reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere hcs #yandere boy #yandere exophilia #yandere man #gender neutral insert #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #my oc oberon #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings

[shigure]

thoughts on "writing oberon"

i don't think oberon is compelled to lie about everything intrinsically. if you ask him coffee or tea he can pick one. if you ask him what color the sky is he can tell you blue. if you ask him who won the superbowl, he's not googling it just to make sure he gets it wrong.

vocabulary for this post

vortigern: abyssal worm that destroys and loathes

faerie king: who he pretends to be

oberon: both/neither, just the fastest way to refer to the unit as a thinking being/practical reality

the nature of his lies comes from his existence as a walking contradiction. the faerie king is perfectly suited to faerie britain on the surface - he's friendly and silly and popular, and he enjoys playing pranks and entertaining people. he's never experienced any major loss like murian has, and he's as loyal to his wife as aurora is to melusine. the fairie king as presented by shakespeare doesn't have anything substantial going on between his ears. || the destroyer of faerie britain has always been disgusted by every part of it. he's keenly aware of how it was made; he's the will of britain trying to kill itself rather than limping along as this colossal parody propped up by moronic culture thieves. and just like the place itself, he's being paraded about as some kind of clown - hell, a cheater to boot. he's a walking insult to his own dignity, and he will only feel peace when it's all been blown to pieces.

this of course creates his cynicism. his experiences on the surface befriending the welsh forest faeries allowed him to feel real love for parts of this place, which heightened his disgust for all of it. surely he lamented in an irreconcilable way when barghest, the monster he created, [destroyed part of britain] and killed the friends he had made. and as his perspective becomes more disjointed in a way that can be understood, it all becomes even shakier when you add in that the faerie king is inherently unreliable, frankly just insubstantial - because any strong emotions the faerie king expresses are written to be ploys and no more, the being that is oberon-vortigern cannot voice sadness or anger, lest they be taken for the faerie king's crocodile tears. forget feeling responsible and conflicted, he can't even grieve because his strongest emotions are labelled tricks as soon as he shows them.

-

beyond that, it's really important to remember that oberon is an actor. he describes "the faerie king" as a character many times (titania too!), but you and he are not side characters - he calls the two of you spectators, i.e. not actively serving as characters at all. when he is participating, he plays a role. when he is with you, even though he as a person is still tricking you, he's not going out of his way to act like a silly faerie king and entertain you. it might be easier to understand this if you think about what he was pretending to be for you: a PHH faerie fitting in as a lostworld faerie. he's undercover, and even though the guy you talk to is still a faerie king, he's here with a more serious mission that differs from his public face.

him being an actor is crucial for how he was summoned in the first place. vortigern is a writhing mass of hatred for what britain has become. it can't love britain. it can't belong in britain. things that don't belong in faerie britain, like holmes and nemo, are weakened there. if it's going to enter britain, it needs a body that won't hate britain. it will hire itself as an actor to play "the faerie king," and read its lines dutifully. this isn't something vortigern manifested before doing and decided upon, it's something that had to happen as a premise of the summoning itself, to allow vortigern to manifest at all. for the duration of oberon's existence, from summoning til nonexistence, he is there as an actor. that includes while he's being vortigern. look at vortigern's sprite: do you see where his bug feet and bug hand connect to his body? not clearly, no! hell, his legs actually black out so we can't see whether the pants cover insect legs or turn into props. they appear to be melded to his clothes, but those aren't gloves and shoes. they're connected to his body, but they're something as removable as an actor's prosthetic.

all that is to say, [vortigern] [is an actor playing] [oberon] is a statement without removable parts. all that can happen is shifting the order into [oberon] [is an actor playing] [vortigern]. and just like the faerie king's love for the welsh forest faeries was just lines read off a script by vortigern, vortigern's vitriolic disgust for those same faeries is just lines read off a script by oberon. if the "actor" part was optional, vortigern's body would be a hell of a lot more fucked up.

-

i've previously likened oberon to an experience i have when i'm discussing something i dearly love with people who also love it, but i mention something i really hate about it. for me, this happens because i get nervous, but i end up panicking and trying to reassure my friends that i really do like the thing in question. so, i end up walking away feeling dissatisfied: i either didn't properly convey my unhappiness with That One Thing, or i did a disservice in expressing how much i love the overall product. when this happens, i feel i haven't done justice to myself.

i don't think oberon has self confidence issues (though obviously he does hate himself), so he's not going through it the way i am. but it's also true that when he's talking about things that really count, nothing he says can do justice to the multifaceted emotions he has about things. furthermore, the automatic devaluing of his most emphatic statements that comes from him being the faerie king is incredibly disheartening.

his options are either be noncommittal and insubstantial, or be sarcastic and dismissive. he's black and white in one, but not grey, instead a checkerboard. he's the ultimate "and" statement. to force an opinion out of him is to pin him to one side, but since the other side isn't less true, whatever he says becomes false. if you use a command spell to make him only speak the whole truth, he will fall silent.

i think that as you spend more time with him, a lot can be better conveyed without words. i think that if you make it clear you understand and believe the part of him that despises you, you can experience the equal part of him that is impressed by and maybe even grateful to you. i don't think it's impossible to understand him, and someone who understands him and still wants him is something he considers an unattainable dream.

#popgo #i really hope this is coherent i tried to highlight some keywords and break it up appropriately #to just feel two ways at once and deride yourself for being inconsistent (the third way) #is something i feel can be understood #also i need his stupid bug pussy so bad. i'm sorry man i can't go five minutes without saying it. i'm struggling over here.

[mako-neexu]

thinking about that one comic of the diffeence between oberon and abby's skills of 'sleep' www its true abby can give you 'rosy dreams' while oberon basically gives you a 'youre dead' kind of sleep... but then again, it could be interpreted as some kind of mercy for guda, whose fate is walking on this path to hell, with their heart and mind's scars irreversible. but theres this hc in my brain where oberon does tone that skill down for guda to be well rested since, you know, its confirmed theyve got nightmares almost everytime they sleep.

(remember how guda said they dont have nightmares when theyre with everyone? the way thats most likely a partial truth hurts me </3)

thinking about guda climbing into their bed, ready to pass out as soon as their head hit the pillow. but they cant sleep in the end so they just toss and turn and hope that the exhaustion wins out, before earlier memories of pain resurface so they shove that in a box at the back of their mind and hope it doesnt come back to haunt them later, then they hear the door opening. with familiar footsteps growing louder.

and they realize that its oberon. guda can't help but lpayfully roll their eyes tiredly. they scooch over to make some space before the huge bug kicks them out of their own bed, and they hear oberon sigh, mumble something under his breath before lifting the covers and settling beside them. guda being way too tired yet still strangely awake cant help but notice oberon's silence. since usually, he would come and try to poke at them before leaving their room.

still, as guda cracks open their eyes, they feel... a cool hand rest on top of their eyelids. and they hear him sigh, followed by the sound of oberon scratching his head, "Just sleep. And before you ask, I'm here to help your sorry ass."

and that alone puts guda at ease, the corners of their mouth lifting to form a faint smile. "Thanks."

they dont know what happened next but they sense some sort of.. effect on their body. like a weighted blanket covering them, their once tense shoulders relaxing in an instant. faintly, they realize that oberon was helping them sleep. they try to crack an eye open this time, only to see very faint, tiny stars hovering above them as if they had just been sprinkled.

(oberon does wake them up in the morning by pinching their nose until they couldnt breathe lmao)

#fgo #obeguda #fujimaru ritsuka #oberon vortigern #guda #i should write a real fic but as soon as i sit down to make one im head empty?? ww

[gabessquishytum]

When Dream gets out of his prison, he tries to find Hob only to discover he has been missing from the human realm for decades. Dream cannot find a trace of him. Until finally he attends a gala in the fae realm and is shocked to discover him there, sitting on the lap of king Oberon himself. It turns out the king and queen have acquired a new plaything.

Hob is being alternatively teased and sent to dance with other enthralled humans for the fae’s amusement. Indignant, Dream yanks him free from the dance and calls his name, but Hob looks past him with no recognition, as if Dream is a total stranger. There is no sign of his usual spark. He looks tired, malnourished, as if his life is being slowly drained away.

Dream demands his freedom, but Oberon and Titania just laugh. They inform Dream that his claim on Hob long since faded and they have no intention of letting Hob go.

Finally, Titania offers a cruel bargain. Hob may choose who he’d like to belong to. First, Dream and the rest of the fae will watch as she and Oberon fuck him, right there in the middle of the ballroom. They have an hour to do whatever they want to him. And then, Dream will have an hour to do the same. Whoever makes him come the most times will get to keep Hob. If Dream doesn’t agree, he knows he will never see Hob again.

Gritting his teeth, Dream agrees. Then he’s forced to sit and watch them tear off Hob’s clothes and push him to the ground. He’s mindlessly enchanted, and he cries as Titania sits on his face and Oberon pounds into him. They wring orgasms from him, without relenting. He’s made to beg on his knees, spanked and degraded and laughed at and it only seems to make him come harder. By the end, he is covered in scratches and bites, hickeys and bruises, and he’s glassy-eyed and mindless with want.

Dream alone doesn’t jeer or laugh. He is no longer sure what will remain of his friend when they are done. Perhaps he is too far gone. Perhaps he will never be the same.

When it is his turn, Dream kneels down beside Hob. He touches him softly, stroking his hair back from that dear face. First, Dream kisses each bruise tenderly until a healthy flush begins to rise under Hob’s skin. And then, he eases between his thighs, parts his cheeks and teases him open with his tongue. Soon, Hob is mewling with pleasure, not the same desperate, unhinged lust from before. When Dream has him, he goes slow and deep and starts whispering all the things he’s been wanting to tell Hob. That he is beautiful. That Dream has thought of him often. That Dream has seen the best and worst of him through his sleeping mind. That he is such a good slut, and that he has nothing to fear. That he deserves to be cared for. Hob looks at him and for the first time there is a distant spark of recognition. Dream hopes he is not imagining it.

By the time the hour is up, Dream has beaten the king and queen at their own game. Victorious, he scoops Hob up in his arms and takes him away to sleep off the decades of enchantment. He has no idea how Hob will greet him when he wakes up… But he know what he hopes for.

Hob definitely has the vibes of a guy who would get kidnapped by the fae. I'd be surprised if it hasn't happened to him tbh.

Poor Dream can't believe what he's seeing. He came to the gala to relax, and now all he can look at is Hob being touched and fondled by the faerie king. It's pretty traumatic for Dream to see his friend imprisoned by magic, after everything he's been through. But also it might be therapeutic for him to rescue Hob from this whole situation, right? Anyway, he's got to do SOMETHING.

At first Titania and Oberon offer him the opportunity to share Hob with them (just for the night), but Dream refuses. And so The Oldest Game (Orgasm Style) begins. Poor Hob is reduced to a puddle on the floor, surrounded by jeering fae and constantly brought to his peak again and again. His body is dripping sweat as he's used, and even though he seems to physically enjoy every cruel touch or smack, his eyes are very far away. When the fae royalty have finished with him he slumps on the ground, exhausted and barely recognisable. A man who's at his limit.

Dream doesn't know if he even has the power to help Hob, but he has to try. He kisses him sweetly (much to Oberon and Titania's great amusement), and holds Hob’s exhausted body against his chest. Dream finds his sweetest and kindest words from deep down in his heart, and pours them into Hob’s ear like honey. With soft touches to his genitals, and coaxing whispers about how beautiful he is when he cums, Dream draws more and more orgasms from his dear friend. Even the fae are impressed.

At last, Dream is allowed to leave freely with Hob bundled up in his arms. He hurries to the dreaming and ensconces Hob in the warmest, softest place in the whole realm. Hob needs to sleep off the terrible things he's endured, and Dream honestly needs a minute to take the equivalent of a cold shower. Talking Hob through multiple climaxes has made him so fucking horny.

When Hob wakes up and the enchantment properly breaks, he's mostly just mad that now he'll have to start a whole new life with a new identity. He doesn't remember much of his time with the fae, but he does remember that Dream came to save him... he blushes scarlet as he realises that his oldest friend made him cum so many times, and he never even got to reciprocate! It's so frustrating.

He quickly starts trying to adjust to his new life and the changes that have happened while he was gone. But he constantly wonders how he could get Dream to come and visit him in the real world. He's got a lot of thank yous to say...

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw dubcon #cw kidnapping

[sailtomarina]

The Artist's Daughter

She was here again.

Draco Lucius Malfoy, First and Only Prince to the kingdom, stayed hidden in the stacks next to a row of tomes dictating the genealogies of the royal families dating back hundreds of years. He had his private tutor to thank for the tiresome task of locating the volume listing the exact ancestor Draco had failed to name correctly in his latest exam. The other day, he’d been here searching for a text that would answer which crops their kingdom specialized in for exports. Ridiculous, really. As if he wouldn’t some day have advisors to do all this research for him.

Then, just like today, he’d seen a girl wandering through the shelves. She hadn’t noticed him, of course. Draco was far too sneaky to be detected by some muggle, which she had to be given her unaware musings as she walked around with her nose buried in a book.

The first time, he’d remained hidden, even going so far as to cast a disillusionment spell on himself. As surprised as he was to see a stranger, he supposed that if they were to wander any of the handful of libraries in the castle, this was the most appropriate one. It was situated on the ground floor not too far from the entrance and ballroom. This is where most of the muggle texts were organized, along with an unfortunate number of historical texts currently pertinent to Draco’s education.

She’d struck him as pretty, albeit in a muggle sort of way. She’d worn a simple lady’s gown in a pale yellow that contrasted with the rich dark curls tumbling down her back. Freckles sprinkled generously across her pale skin, markings his cousins would have glamoured over from birth. If he guessed correctly, they weren’t too far apart in age, perhaps fourteen or fifteen. That was another indicator of her humble breeding—he didn’t recognize her, not from school or from the countless balls and feasts he’d attended growing up. She couldn’t be a noble.

Today, she wore a dress in a lovely sage green with tiny white flowers embroidered along the scoop neckline. Draco imagined her eyes to match the green, or to perhaps blink at him in a hazel hue. He needed to know.

“Who are you?” His voice came out much harsher than intended. 

He’d stepped out in front of her just as she was about to pass, causing her to come to an abrupt stop before crashing into him. Startled eyes, irises dark brown and glinting with a hint of gold, gazed up at him. He’d been wrong about the colors.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there. I’m Hermione Granger. And you are?” She stepped back to an appropriate distance from him, hugging a few books to her chest like armor.

“I’m Draco,” he said simply.

“The prince?” She didn’t sound too surprised, and eyed his unmistakable platinum hair.

“The very same. Why are you here in the library?” He’d finally tempered his tone to a more congenial one. 

“I was told I could read whatever I liked in here. My father is painting your Grand Ballroom.”

Ah. She was the daughter of the painter.

His mother made it a point to elect a new project as soon as the previous one was complete. Previous years had resulted in a reworked Imperial Garden, which boasted rose gardens with every imaginable variety, both magical and non-magical. A formidable greenhouse was added shortly after, and the caretaker they’d employed soon obtained and cultivated the rarest of specimens for use in medicine and potions. 

This year, Queen Narcissa turned her attention to the Grand Ballroom. She and his father adored hosting balls at every opportunity. What better way to display their love for art and beauty than to paint the entire ceiling and all its walls with depictions of magical beasts and figures from history. Circe. Merlin. Rasputin. Titania and Oberon.

Draco had assumed they’d hire a wizard, but he should have known that when it came to art, the king and queen saw no difference between magic or not. They simply wanted the best, and if that happened to be stationary art, then so be it.

“Find anything interesting?” He feigned interest, intent on keeping her talking. She was far more entertaining than pouring over volumes of ancestors alone.

She perked up at his question, and Draco could have sworn sections of her hair floated for just a brief moment.

Certainly not.

“I did! Did you know your castle is situated on top of the most powerful spot in the kingdom? All of the most prominent ley lines converge here underneath our feet!” She stomped one foot in emphasis. He wouldn’t be surprised if she went through several slippers a season if she always beat on them in that manner.

Wait.

Did she say “ley lines”?

“Are you a witch?” he blurted out, once again wincing at the gracelessness of his question. His mother would be mortified if she could hear him.

Hermione looked at him as if he was stupid. “Yes. Why else would your family let me wander around here by myself?”

“I don’t know, maybe because this is the one library of many where muggles are allowed? They do come here occasionally, muggle nobles, to garner favor with us,” he sputtered. He still couldn’t quite believe it. She was a witch. She was an unknown witch of his age. “Why don’t I know you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

“My parents are muggles. I might have a squib ancestor somewhere, but as far as we know, I’m the only magic user in the Granger family. They sent me abroad for schooling since Hogwarts doesn’t currently accept muggle-borns.” She raised her eyebrows as if challenging him, but Draco couldn’t find it within himself to care about her background.

Hermione didn’t fawn on him like the other girls who had paraded themselves around him at school. She didn’t bat her eyelashes or titter behind a gloved hand. She didn’t wear gloves at all, her slender fingers wrapping around ancient texts as if relishing the touch of the worn covers. She probably thumbed the pages like his instructors told him never to do.

He would have thought that would annoy him, but he instead found himself intrigued in this muggle-born witch who liked reading, wore slippers instead of heels, and forewent glamours.

“Do you want to see the other libraries?”

His words were like a spell, as effective at getting her to brighten as a cheering draught.

“Oh, can I? The king and queen won’t mind?” She nearly vibrated in her excitement.

Her hair was definitely twice the size it was before.

“Not if you’re with me,” Draco said with a smirk, though that was partially a lie. If they’d wanted her in the other libraries, they would have explicitly told her. 

“Well, in that case, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” She made to dash away, but he caught her shoulder before she could do so.

“Allow me,” he said with a gesture towards the books still clutched to her chest.

“Oh, I can carry these.”

“Please, I insist.” It wouldn’t do if either of his parents not only caught him skiving off lessons with the girl, but allowing her to carry around books like some commoner. When she finally let go of her findings, he cast a featherweight charm and looked at her knowingly. She flushed an adorable shade of pink.

“They really weren’t very heavy, but thank you anyways.”

They spent the remainder of the afternoon exploring, only making it to two additional libraries. Hermione had only added to the pile of books floating behind Draco. He had to refresh the charm multiple times due to the sheer weight.

“You do realize you can’t remove these from the castle, don’t you?” He hoped this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see her, that she’d continue to visit along with her father for as long as there was work. “How long will it take your father to finish the ballroom?”

“To answer your first question, yes, I do understand that I’ll need to reserve these books to read later. I was hoping you could help with that.” He nodded his agreement, even as he inwardly danced with joy at the thought that he now had a reason to continue seeing the girl. “And to answer your second, it could take my father years.”

“Years?” Draco was aghast at the approximation.

“Years,” she repeated. “If you go take a look, you’ll see why. He’s not even working alone—he has an entire team helping with the moldings and scenery.”

Trust his mother to pick a project of such staggering proportions that it required multiple artists. On the bright side, that meant he’d have a long time to get to know Hermione, even if it was only during the holidays.

“It’s a shame you can’t attend Hogwarts.” It wasn’t until she tutted in agreement that he realized he’d said the words aloud. If she’d been like any other girl, she would have pounced on any hint of attachment on his part. She, however, did not.

“Well, if the king’s word is true, then I may soon. In exchange for my father’s work, yours agreed to update Hogwarts’ policies. I love Beauxbatons, but I can’t disagree that staying closer to home would make everything a lot easier on my family.”

“If you do,” Draco said the words slowly, hardly believing they were coming out of his mouth but needing her to know before it was too late, “then you should ask to be sorted into Slytherin.”

His heart sank at the way her nose wrinkled and lips turned downward in a grimace. “Isn’t that house renowned for pureblood ideology? I was leaning more towards Ravenclaw, myself.”

He nodded somewhat agreeably. “Books and cleverness…you could certainly do worse. They’re not a bad lot, if you ignore their tendency to disappear into their studies. Though…” he trailed off, reluctant to give away his feelings again without assistance.

“Though it might mean we don’t see each other? I wouldn’t let that happen outside of exams,” she said offhandedly. “I’ll keep in mind what you said. Snakes can be quite clever, in a sneaky kind of way.” The pointed look she sent Draco reminded him of how he’d approached her in the first place.

“Quite.”

A gentle melody played in the air, noting the top of the hour and finishing with eight long chimes.

“And that’s my cue. Hold on to those for me, would you?” Hermione leaned up onto her toes, laid the palms of her hands atop his shoulders, and pressed a kiss onto one cheek, then the other.

Draco could do nothing but stand still in shock at her forwardness. Then he remembered where she went to school and the strange habits the people of that land practiced. He cleared his throat to cover his awkward silence, but the crooked smirk she wore proved the attempt useless.

“When will I see you next?” He realized how needy that sounded as it came out, and hastily continued,“Just so I know when to have them ready?”

She flitted to the doors and didn’t respond until she was nearly through them, “I’m sure you’ll find me!”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving behind her stack of books, the echoes of her soft lips on his face, and the sweet scent of apple blossoms in the air. Draco wondered if she had perhaps cast some sort of love spell on him. How else could he explain his complete lack of reservation around her, or why her humble origins didn’t matter to him like he thought they should?

Queen Narcissa found him still in contemplation shortly after, and was impressed at the amount of reading material gathered around him.

“My dragon, there you are! Wilfred said he’d sent you to recover texts on our family history ages ago.”

“Mother, did you know the painter has a daughter?”

Narcissa blinked as she processed the odd question. “Master Granger? Of course. Hermione is a lovely, bright little thing. I told her she could read whatever she liked in our First Library. Why do you ask?”

Her son continued to stare at the wall, and she had half a mind to cast a homenum revelio.

“Draco?”

He came to with a shake and gave her one of his rare, full smiles. “No reason. I think we’ll be wonderful friends. You should make sure Hogwarts changes their acceptance rules before school starts again.”

Bewildered and bemused, she stroked a hand over his hair, so like his father’s. “I take it the two of you met?”

“We did. These are all hers.” He gestured towards the books once more.

“And here I thought you’d finally taken an interest in your studies.”

He snorted and she nearly pinched him on the arm for his cheek. She made do instead with a tickle to his side. He ducked away from her with a laugh, holding up his hands in surrender. “Mother, please! That isn’t fair! You know all my weak spots.”

She desisted in her attack with another indulgent smile. “And don’t you forget it. Just be careful with Hermione, dear.”

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head in confusion and she nearly sighed at his naivety. The young could be so oblivious, but she envied them their freedom.

She thought back on her own upbringing. The Blacks were more ancient and arrogant than even the royal family; her marriage to Lucius had been agreed upon at birth and as expected as the fact that clouds brought rain and Blacks were as pure as pure could be. She knew she was his from the beginning, and no amount of pining after others or imagining life in another place with a different name would change her fate.

Narcissa looked at her son, a near perfect replica of her husband aside from the softer grey eyes she’d bestowed upon him and his smile. He’d been so much like her at the start, but over the years he’d become more and more like his father. Now, today, he was like his younger self again.

She didn’t care what Lucius intended for his heir. She just wanted him to find happiness.

“True friends are difficult to come by, particularly for people of our station. I have a feeling that, if you nurture your relationship with Hermione, she’ll be someone worth keeping at your side.”

“What would father say?” he asked, caution and desire battling for domination on his face.

“He prizes power above all else.” This much was true. Lucius just happened to have a bit of a blind spot outside of magical families. “Apply yourself to your studies, help one another, and I’ll take care of Hogwarts and your father.”

Listening to his mother, Draco started to relax and let a bit of his earlier hope trickle back in. He wasn’t sure how Hermione had secured her approval, but she had. Greater deeds had been turned into ballads.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit terrifying sometimes?”

Narcissa smirked, immediately reminding Draco of wild curls and a smattering of freckles. The two women looked wildly different, yet they gave off a similar air of confident capability.

“I have been told. Once or twice.”

He made a note to tread carefully around Hermione in the future. If she turned out anything like his mother, he never wanted to be on the opposite end of her ire.

Oh, the feats they would accomplish together.

WC 2606

DHRMonth Prompt: Week 4 - Alternate Universe, September 22 - Royal AU

Cross-posted to AO3

I have half a mind to write a full story in this setting, since it spiraled into something I want to know more about. I didn’t think I used to have a thing for royal AUs, but maybe I do???

#dramione month #dramionemonth #dramione #dhr fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger #draco malfoy

[ofgoldenfools]

of golden fools, a writeblr intro and the company they keep

hii, im mouse! im nineteen, african and queer as hell. i've been around writeblr many times, under many different names, but now i'm back, and would love to make some writer friends with stories to share!

i'm currently writing a gothic horror novel, titled run rabbit run, and the wip intro for that should be soon floating around on my page.

i love writing about grief, family that was once lost, and redemption arcs. nothing better than your problematic fave getting called out on their shit.

when im not writing, im usually still writing research papers for work (working with frogs atm!! picture above is mine) or for uni (animal behaviour/zoology students rise up!!)

my wips

run rabbit run; draft one gothic horror; wip intro

charlotte oberon has a penchant for lying, and getting herself into trouble. but for once, it's not her fault. her brother lies dead, and stretched thin from holding her family together, she is naturally relieved when oliver oberon comes back from the dead. but all is not as it seems. when strange things start happening, charlie must begin to face the truth, before she drowns in her own lies, alongside those she loves. set in an oppressive autumnal heat, in the hinterlands of queensland, australia, can a family crumbling from inside out ever heal from the grief haunting them?

when siren blood runs; draft two, on hiatus fantasy

tahjuddin youssef doesn't know how to face his family. 5 years ago he ran away, seeking fame and fortune on the red sea. well. he got one of them. luckily, his family welcomes him back with open arms, and as he relearns the motion of life off of the high seas, he begins to enjoy life again. less luckily however, is the fact that there is a bounty placed on his head. and the sirens are ready to have their pound of flesh. when tahjuddin is ordered to stand trial beneath the waves, and enemies are circling, waiting for the first sign of weakness, tahjuddin must learn who his real allies are, and in doing so, heal the wound in his family's heart.

please feel free to follow along if you like what im up to, and also to reblog, so that i check out your works too :)!

#writeblrgarden #wtwcommunity #writeblr introduction #writeblr intro #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #my writing #amwriting

[lasudio]

VeronaHills, Round Seven: Weiss

Years ago, Skye chose his name to signify that the sky was the limit once his gender was affirmed.

Going to ground wasn't the plan at the time. Skye thought his introversion might be solved when he transitioned; alas, the comfort of his shell remained perfectly cosy, and he had to concede that was a part of him. So he listened to the whispers of the forest as he healed, and soon enough, the branches stretched out their limbs to welcome him within. Sooner again, he grew his children. Within four walls of a human-constructed cottage, they looked so tall and lush; plucked from a piece of paradise.

Penny was going to show Cyd that very slice - her hometown, as a human would say. Skye could only hope he would find beauty among the ruins, embiggened over centuries with verdure.

"I want you to see where my magic comes from," Penny said, as she led Cyd up a path of untrodden leaves. "If we're going to be together, I don't want you to be scared of it." Of me, she added silently.

Ruby bushels loomed over lonely columns, and every blade of grass afoot displayed a defiant show of green that made Cyd feel ashamed of his rubbish bin. A few strides away, Penny stared into a glistening pool, guarded by a bright, sculpted feminine figure.

"Hm. It's strong today."

Cyd turned to see Penny's thick black hair slipping away and crumbling into petals in the breeze, revealing a shock of green leaves. She met his eyes and smiled. "Don't worry, it grows back pretty fast."

Hands and lips met passionately within the faerie ring. Cyd wasn't afraid. He did, however, overhear another visitor standing in the ring.

"Is this where it happened?" Claudio asked Oberon, flatly.

The faerie king was silent for a moment. Then: "Claudio, please. We're interrupting a lover's ritual. Let's leave them be."

Cyd felt Penny's hand dance up his collarbone. Yes - this lover's ritual was going to continue - for years to come.

#sims 2 #veronahills #woody weiss #skye weiss #penny weiss #cyd roseland #claudio monty #oberon gossamer #goldie hart #pinky weiss #weiss

[princess-ibri]

SLEEPING BEAUTY PARENTS BACKSTORY

I've said a lot of this before here but i'll go over it again for the sake of the post

Stefan grew up a ward of the Fairy King and Queen, a young mortal infant they found abandoned in the woods and took under their literal wings

His caregivers during this time were the Three Good Fairies, favored handmaidens of Queen Titania

He had a happy and mostly carefree childhood, not venturing beyond the Veil of the Fairies until he reached young adulthood, when he began wandering the edges of the forests that touched on the kingdom of Perceforet

And it was during one of these excursions that he met the beautiful young princess Leah, who'd snuck away from the castle to enjoy the beauty of the woods in spring

Though Leah was initially startled by the strange young man who appeared from the forest, she soon lost her fear as she saw how kind and courteous he was, and the two began to meet frequently at the woods edge, their friendship growing into love.

Eventually though their trysts were discovered, and Stefan was taken before Leah's father, King Florestan, who demanded to know just who Stefan was who dared to court his daughter

Stefan confidently declared himself the foster son of Oberon, and though this caused the king pause, for he didn't want to risk offending the Fairy Court, he still felt Stefan wasn't a desirable suitor for Leah's hand, as he could be any commoner's son by birth

And so King Florestan declared that if Stefan wished to prove himself worthy of Leah's hand he must accept to undertake a quest--a traditional challenge that he was within his rights to give without risking offense from Stefan’s guardians--and if he succeeded then he would win Leah's hand and the throne as well, as Florestan had no sons (he wasn't the most progressive king but it was the 14th century)

Stefan agreed, and Florestan tasked him with a quest he was sure would be impossible

Somewhere within the land of Percefort there lives a devilish imp with golden hair, known for his dark bargains and darker powers. Stefan must find the imp's lair, break into it, and steal three golden hairs from the imp's head. All without being cursed and or killed by the imp of course--and he must do so before the next full moon

Stefan has heard of this being from hushed whispers in the Fairy Court. He knows how dangerous the task will be but determines to accept it anyway.

It was at this time that Stefan would meet someone who would become his lifelong friend, the King Hubert of Ulstead, and his wife Queen Isolde. Hubert had been visiting the neighboring court of Florestan and was impressed with what he saw of Stefan, and determined to help him on his quest

The two traveled together through the darkest parts of the forest, fighting savage beasts and overcoming challenges that fell in their way, searching for the lair of the golden haired imp

At last they discovered it, a strange warped place, like a canker in the darkest heart of the forest

During all this time Stefan has managed to overcome with his wits/Hubert's help, as he was told by his foster father before heading off that he would need to fulfill this quest on his own without the magical aid of hia caregivers to prove his worthiness--but now he comes to an impasse

The imp's lair is protected with deeply potent magic, and thats still only the outside. If he's even able to get in Stefan has no real idea what challenges the imp may provide

With time running out, Stefan finally resolves to try his luck with a loophole. He knows he's not meant to ask for magical aid from the Court. But he knows one person who had never truly been part of it. One person who's magics could be a match for the Imp's protections--his foster cousin Melisandre

He summoned her and explained his need, and she agreed to aid him in his quest, under the conditions that he would make her his royal sorceress once he gained the kingship after marrying Leah

(Unbeknownst to Stefan, or indeed anyone in the Fairy Court, Melisandre had long since fallen to evil and looked to become a dark influence upon the human kingdoms with this appointment)

Due to being half-demon herself, as well as very powerful, Melisandre was able to work her way through the wards of the Imp, and using her wits and wiles managed to charm him upon his discovering her. Soon enough, she had him in a state of stupor and was able to this way gain the three golden hairs without his knowledge, sneaking back to Stefan before the Imp awoke

Stefan traveled back to Perceforet and just in time presented the three hairs to Florestan, who was shocked but bound to his word, and betrothed Leah and Stefan to be wed the following fortnight 

However all was not yet well. Melisandre had long carried a grudge against her aunt the Fairy Queen Titania, and decided at last to take her vengance through harming her husband King Oberon

Taking the three hairs of the Imp, which she asked Stefan to grant her and he agreed thanks to her help, she crafted a ring which would drain the life from Oberon slowly, and had it presented through a third party to her uncle

 Stefan however, recognized the make of the ring, and linked it with his foster father's illness, but before he could raise an alarm Melisandre reminded him that she had aided him in his quest, going against the Fairy King's express wishes. If he kept his silence then none would know of his deception and Leah would remain his.

Stefan realized the truth of these words, but ultimately decided he could not stand by as his foster father faded away and the fairy court plunge into chaos

He revealed his intrigue with Melisandre and her actions taken against the crown

Titania tried to take Melisandre into custody once her betrayal was revealed , but her magic prevented her capture, and she turned upon the Fairy Queen intending to destroy her

Stefan however in his moment of integrity  proved worthy of wielding the Sword of Truth, Oberon's sword which could only be wielded by a worthy hand and turned it against Melisandre, stopping her attack and casting her from the Court

Melisandre fled, her access to the Fairy Court revoked and a new name of derision given to her, Maleficent

Oberon's life had been saved, but he was still gravely ill, and was forced to draw deeper into Faerie to recover, Titania going with him, but granting Stefan their thanks and forgiveness before they did, promising that he and his family would always remain friends of the Fairy Court

Stefan then told the truth to Florestan and Leah, but Leah refused to break the engagement, arguing that Stefan had now proved himself twice over and asserting her intention to have none but him as her husband

And so the two were wed, (though they had some trouble from the vengeful Imp keeping them from having a child for many years and the vengeance of Maleficent when they finally did) and lived happily ever after 

(Credit to Arthur Rackham for the top picture)

#my art #disney #Disney Parent Backstory #DisneyVerse #disney sleeping beauty #sleeping beauty #Maleficent #king stefan #queen leah #rumplestiltskin #the devil with the three golden hairs #brothers grimm #fairytales #disney parents #prince philip #king hubert #queen titania #oberon #arthur rackham

[superman86to99]

Superman/Doomsday: Hunter/Prey #1 (April 1994)

DOOMSDAY IS COMING... BACK! Superman has been having nightmares about Doomsday, which is the natural psychological reaction when someone kills you. In his dreams, Doomsday has already wrecked the entire Justice League (again) and goes after Superman, who turns into a scared little boy in the middle of the fight. Just when Doomsday is about to knock lil' Clark's head off...

...he wakes up. It's the same dream every night. So, Superman decides to do the healthy thing when something is scaring you to that point. No, not visit a therapist -- finding and killing it.

But where is Doomsday these days, anyway? The last time anyone saw him, he was floating through space after the evil Cyborg Superman tied his body to an asteroid and tossed him there. As it happens, just when Superman is thinking about finding Doomsday, a cargo spaceship headed for Apokolips runs across that asteroid and takes it in, thinking they might be able to sell it to Darkseid as a big paperweight or something. By the time the ship lands in Apokolips, everyone inside is dead -- and soon, so is everyone in its general vicinity. As Doomsday tears through Apokolips' residents, one seems to recognize him and calls him "the Armageddon Creature," which for some reason makes me think of Steve Buscemi.

Even Darkseid seems freaked out by Doomsday. He sends his elite guard to slow him down with their fancy exo-armors, which "can stop anything"... except, it soon becomes clear, Doomsday's fists. When Doomsday kills one of the guards, a little gizmo on his back starts glowing and something jumps into the guard's armor -- it's the Cyborg Superman, whose consciousness had been hiding there since Superman Superman destroyed his previous body!

So now they have two maniacs destroying poor old Apokolips (what did they ever do to deserve this?!). Desaad wants to call the Darkstars or L.E.G.I.O.N. or some other cosmic police force for help, but Darkseid would rather evacuate the entire planet than do that.

Meanwhile, after talking it over with Lois (who isn't exactly thrilled about her fiancé going after a creature that has already killed him once), Superman realizes who can help him find Doomsday: the Linear Men, the protectors of the time-stream, since they can find anything, anywhere, anytime. He stands outside young Matthew Ryder's home, causing the adult, time-traveling Ryder to materialize and ask Superman why he remembers a famous superhero loitering in his back yard one night. Superman asks the Linear Men to give him all the info they have on Doomsday, but Matthew hits him with the "sanctity of the time-stream" stuff again.

However, Matthew's more hot-headed (pun intended) alternate reality version, Waverider, manages to give Superman a "subtle" clue about Doomsday's current location:

Back in Apocalypse Apokolips, Darkseid decides to step in personally and hit Doomsday with his legendary Omega Beams. No one can withstand the unsurpassed force of the--! Oh, wait, no, Doomsday did, pretty easily. And then beat the living crap out of Darkseid. After seeing that, Desaad is like "screw this," disobeys his master's orders, and calls the Justice League headquarters... just as Superman has stepped in to ask for help in finding Doomsday. Desaad ends their intergalactic Zoom call, but this makes Superman put two and two together and decipher Waverider's hint.

Now aware that Doomsday is in Apokolips (but still not knowing if he's alive or dead), Superman borrows a Mother Box from the JL's Oberon and teleports there, only to immediately run into the Cyborg breaking shit up. Superman is ready to fight him, but the Cyborg hits him with something more devastating than any blast: a live video feed of Doomsday, alive and kicking. Well, punching.

And then he hits Superman with a blast. While the Cyborg is distracted torturing Superman, Desaad uses the opportunity to open up a Boom Tube near Doomsday to teleport him away (which they probably should have done in the first place, huh). Superman flies off to stop it, but he's too slow: Doomsday has been sent to some other planet... perhaps Earth?! TO BE CONTINUED!

Creator-Watch:

This marks the glorious return of inker Brett Breeding, who we hadn't seen since the end of "Reign of the Supermen" because he was focusing on this miniseries. This time, he's actually providing finished art to Dan Jurgens' layouts, and the result is probably his finest work yet. We've all missed Breeding in the regular books (no disrespect to Josef Rubinstein), but that makes this mini feel extra special and like a prestige event worthy of that cardboard cover and the extra three bucks. More art gushing in Don Sparrow's section below!

Plotline-Watch:

No idea if this is intentional or not, but the final page, with Superman failing to catch Doomsday's Boom Tube and wondering if he stopped himself out of fear, reminds me of the classic final pages of Jack Kirby's Forever People #1 (1971), when he intentionally stops in the middle of a Boom Tube trip. Not many comics end with an emotionally devastated Superman kneeling between some rocks in front of an orange background after just barely not making a Boom Tube trip.

Superman mentions to Lois that one of the reasons he wants to find Doomsday's body is because he remembers how obsessed people in ancient Krypton became with genetic engineering (as seen in the World of Krypton miniseries), and he worries someone might recreate him or make an army of Doomsdays. That's a pretty clever way of delivering information that will become relevant when we find out Doomsday's origin, next issue.

ELROY SIGHTING! Of course that little jerk wouldn't wanna miss an issue where his rival for Lois' affection has serious chances of suffering a violent death...

Don Sparrow says: "A small nod to the 'Emerald Twilight' storyline happening in Green Lantern, as Superman mentions he can no longer ask Green Lanterns for help in outer space." Find out why at the @greenlantern94to04 blog, which just reached Green Lantern #50! (I'm hoping to have that blog catch up to this one by the time we hit Zero Hour at least, so we can crossover.)

Another important observation from Don: "Superman’s a boxers guy now, which is a switch from the tight-whiteys he wore in the now-famous Superman #50. No, I don’t feel like I’m wasting my life, why do you ask? (Weigh in with your comment—do you think Superman is a boxer guy, or briefs? NOT about whether I’m wasting my life.)" I'm gonna go with briefs on the outside, boxers on the inside. He's a man of two worlds!

As he leaves the Ryder residence, Superman tells Matthew's confused dad to "teach your son to do what's right -- while you still have time." Am I the only one who thinks the even more confused little Matthew got a belting after that?

At the JL HQ, Maxima offers to come along to Apokolips to have her own rematch with Doomsday, but Superman says no because he wants to face his fears alone. I feel kinda bad for her, but she must be pretty used to Superman turning her down by now.

I like this little car parked outside Darkseid's palace. Did a cabbie get so lost that he ended up there? Did he still charge $6,50?

Not even the Linear Men could figure out where exactly this miniseries fits in the continuity. This obviously takes place after Action #694 (February 1994), the issue where we last saw Doomsday floating in space, and before the Zero Hour event (September 1994), due to certain events involving Matthew and Waverider. Thing is, that Action issue takes place during the long storyline when Superman is losing control of his powers, which doesn't seem to be a problem in this miniseries. That storyline ends in Action #699, which is also the first part of the "Battle for Metropolis" storyline, which leads directly to Metropolis becoming a big pile of rubble in Action #700. Metropolis seems fine in this mini, so this must be taking place during Superman's power woes, but something about him being stronger than usual during such an important rematch doesn't seem right to me. Let's all just blame this on Zero Hour messing with the time-stream.

Patreon-Watch:

Our patrons Aaron, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Sam, Bol, and Gaetano Barreca got to read half of this post back in November, because Don got a bit ahead of himself, and now they get to read half of our upcoming post on Man of Steel #28, because it happened again! Take advantage of our absentmindedness by joining us at https://www.patreon.com/superman86to99

Speaking of Don, he's got way more to say about this issue, so keep reading...

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

Some context behind the art on this issue:  While I was essentially a DC-only kid in the early 90s, you simply couldn’t ignore the revolution happening at Image Comics.  I still maintain that those early Image books weren’t popular only, or even mainly because of the creators, and certainly not because of the stories—I think what set them apart were the incredible production values.  (The fact that there isn’t that much appetite for trade paperbacks of early Spawn or Savage Dragon issues bears this out.) The paper quality and digital colouring that Image Comics offered blew the doors off of what DC was publishing regularly.  And it wasn’t that DC was incapable of using the same techniques, or paper supply—indeed the astonishingly illustrated Batman movie adaptation from 5 years earlier showed they could.  So while I found Image comics to have enviable art, but no stories to my taste, I couldn’t help but wish that my beloved Superman comics could look as nice as the Image comics on the newsstands.  That’s one part of what made these issues so exciting.  Of course, a rematch with Superman and Doomsday was another attraction, and as if we needed a third reason, this mini-series reunited Jurgens and Breeding, who weren’t the usual team on the superbooks at the time. 

After all that, we start with the cover, and the simplicity would certainly make it jump off the stands.  Jurgens was always the most posteriffic Superman artist, where the action poses would make a great pinup, but without sacrificing story.  This cover is a great example of that, with a determined Superman flying into battle on a computer-generated background of flames on the front cover, with Doomsday stomping into action on the back cover.  Even the title pages boast some great production values, as the brushed steel photoshop texture and rounded gradients on the rivets make for a much more photo-realistic finish than usual. 

Issues like this one are tricky, because it’s tempting for me to comment on every darn page, because the art is so consistently at a high level.  So, in the interests of keeping this post from becoming a novel (yes, I know I went overboard in the Death of Superman 30th Anniversary Special issue!), I’ll just highlight the very best of the best.

The slow buildup of the early pages are very well done, as the peaceful dreamlike setting of Clark’s childhood farmhouse give way to the adult nightmare of Doomsday.  The full page splash on page 4 is perhaps the defining image of Doomsday (one we saw repeated in modern times, as it was swiped last year in the aforementioned 30th Anniversary issue).

I like seeing the Superman-era Justice League (even if it’s among the wreckage), though my copy has a colouring error on Blue Beetle’s costume).  

The outer space scenes, of the doomed space freighter crew have a scary, claustrophobic feel, and I can definitely remember my heart racing seeing Doomsday awake (even though we knew he was a long time ago).  The design on this ship is reminiscent of the semi-canonical Superman/Aliens mini-series that’ll come out in about a year’s time.

As any loyal reader knows, I love good Lois art, so seeing Lois in her pajamas is a treat when handled by this art team.  Later in the issue we get a Darkseid that rivals John Byrne himself for my favourite depiction of the lord of Apokolips.

We are also introduced to the new look Cyborg Superman (Jurgens tried hard to establish his name as simply “The Cyborg” but it never really took—even with Vic Stone not in the comics of the time, I think DC fans always thought of “Cyborg” as a good guy) which is one of my favourite looks for him.  I think I may slightly prefer the look he had in mid-2000s Green Lantern comics overall, but even they took the red and black look established here.  It’s a small panel, but I remember copying and re-copying the little shot of a very handsome Superman flying toward the camera on page 26.  The subtle gradients in the colouring really add a lot. 

Back to Apokolips, the simple silhouette of Darkseid using his omega beams is a stunner, especially with the sizzle effect at the edge of the beams.

Not sure I pictured Darkseid having red blood, as we do (dark gray maybe?  Black?) but the image of someone as imposing as Darkseid yelping in pain is definitely one that will linger.  For pure cartooniness, I love the panel of Desaad’s shock at seeing Darkseid KO’d.  After seeing the Lord of the Rings films, I always pictured Brad Dourif as Desaad, but at this time (and certainly seeing this panel) I think Marty Short would have made a great one. 

I appreciate the Justice League being involved, even tangentially, given their involvement in the first Doomsday battle.  Though Maxima’s costume is technically more demure than when Superman was in the league (in mourning for Superman she updated her look in Justice League America #71) as she’s covered chin to toes, she somehow seems more naked than ever in these pages.    

There are a couple reused panels in this comic, which stand out—page 40 reuses the famed Doomsday portrait mentioned earlier and that same page inserts a shot of the Cyborg’s eyes that is clipped from page 43.  Not the end of the world, but noticeable to me.   As Superman emerges from the Boom Tube, I like the blue-tinged lighting on his costume, some good colouring there.

Lastly, the body language as Superman passes by the closed Boom Tube that transported Doomsday elsewhere is well observed. 

SPEEDING BULLETS:

This mini-series also highlighted an unfortunate trend of the early-to-mid 90s—that anything really big rarely happened in the regular titles, but was relegated to special—and enormously more expensive—special issues or mini-series.  Despite this story being seismic in importance, it was mostly ignored by the events in the tightly-linked Superman titles at the time.  Which to me felt like a missed sales opportunity, certainly the rematch between Superman and Doomsday would have bolstered sales line-wide, had they done it in the regular books.  But having a new-reader friendly self-contained story, by a single writing and art team AND a high price point won out in the end.  This was also true in the Batman titles, where pivotal characters like Azrael and Bane were introduced in prestige format one shots or mini-series rather than the monthly titles.

Maybe another reason this story was confined to a mini-series—it’s quite gory in some places, perhaps too much so for a code book?

Back in the 90s, they’d always play it coy about whether Superman and Lois have a sexual relationship, but as in the past, they do give hints to support one reading or the other. On the one hand, they keep separate apartments, but on the other, they do have potentially meaningful captions like “hours later” that may contain multitudes.

I gotta say, I was sorta surprised and impressed that DeSaad didn’t immediately make a power play in order to rule Apokolips himself.  Though, he likely knew that no matter what he’d need someone as powerful as Darkseid (or Orion, or Mr. Miracle) to combat Doomsday.

I do get a kick that even under duress, DeSaad still officiously signs off with a “DeSaad out!”, Seacrest style.

It’s grim, but the expression on the face of the dead inspector is unintentionally hilarious to me.  Almost like it begs for one more word bubble. [Max: Don's gonna hit us with a "Totally Rad!" isn't he?]

[Max: ...I stand corrected.]

#superman #dan jurgens #brett breeding #doomsday #justice league #maxima #oberon #darkseid #desaad #linear men #matthew ryder #waverider #elroy #hank henshaw #superman/doomsday: hunter/prey #guy who parked in apokolips somehow #desaad out #steve buscemi should play bertron

[deliciouskeys]

1, Maevelander. 24, Butchlander.

I really had to limit myself to just two.

Meme link.

1 maevlander, genderswap

This one is not hard to picture at all. Prince Maeve (Oberon? Lol) is basically the same character, although if male would probably not be seen as an alcoholic, just a tough guy character. Femlander is still overbearing and still keeps hoping they get back together. She’s also wracked by insecurity that Vought only made her leader of the Seven for the woke points. When she overhears Maeve talking to his ex-boyfriend on the phone, she freaks out quietly, outs him on live TV, but then has to deal with bullshit questions about what their bedroom life was like while they were dating, because if people don’t really believe in bi women, they certainly don’t believe in the existence of bi men, and so it kind of backfires for Femlander, everyone online giggling about whether she had to peg Maeve and wear football shoulder pads etc.

24 butchlander, soul bonding

Lol this is bad for both of them. Would take place in a universe where soul bonding is known to exist, but far from everyone ever finds such a partner. They realize something’s up as soon as they first encounter each other at the Vought Christmas party, but Billy doesn’t want to believe it because he’s married to Becca, and HL doesn’t want to believe he’d be bonded to a mudperson. HL invites Becca to his office, but instead of raping her, or discussing the social media campaign, he mostly asks her about her husband. Becca comes home and tells Billy what happened, kind of laughing that she thinks HL might have a crush on him or something, and Billy laughs weakly and is disturbed that it wasn’t just all in his mind. They keep finding excuses to meet through Becca but don’t act on it for a while.

#thanks for the ask! #maevlander #butchlander #homelander #queen maeve #billy butcher #the boys #the boys tv #mystuff #ask meme

[mako-neexu]

Aahh you read Death is the only ending for the villainess too!! I love the story and the artist's fate fanart they've done. Callisto actually resembles Gilgamesh to me sometimes though that just might be the coloring. However, an Obeguda death is the only ending au 👀👀...

SERIOUSLY!!!! I thought at first: "Why is Ou-sama here!?!?!?" XD wwwww But he's the best!!! Callisto is the best male lead ever!!!! I read the manhwa a few months ago but I just got back to it now and I have brainrot over it wwww

I loved your idea so I made mini fic!! TvT

I would have loved for Hakuno x Gil death is the only ending AU, but I'm not familiar with her yet ehehe. But I did my best with Obeguda!! Thank you for ask!! I didn't know anon likes both fgo and maybe villainess manhwa 😂🥰

Also the mini fic ended in yakudou trio moment hahaha XDD

-

Ritsuka knew something was wrong the moment their highnesses had entered the ballroom.

It was the crown prince who had always occupied the emperor’s seat, if only by proxy as he was said to be sickly according to the novel…

She knew who would be sitting on that damned massive chair. But as soon as she saw Tristan and Baobhan Sith by Morgan’s side-

She had a terrible hunch about a certain someone’s reaction.

Of course, of course. They wouldn’t invite the likes of him to the crown princess’ birthday party. Still, Morgan and her children should have known by now that nothing ever good comes out of angering him.

She cringed at the thought and decided to stay away from one of the people who would one-hundred-percent guarantee her death.

As fate would have it, the doors slammed wide open, the loud bang causing screams of shock and confusion to spread throughout the room.

Baobhan’s shriek was one that ripped through all of the noise, “M-Mother–!!! H-He’s carrying a–!!”

“A corpse.”

The uninvited guest cheerfully spoke as the dull thud of the body was accompanied by a wet noise, “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of what happens to people at the end of their life, my little sister?”

Goddamnit, Oberon Vortigern!!!

While maintaining a fairy-tale like facade, he could easily kill someone with one hand, sword or not. The novel said that that wasn’t his “true” appearance per say, as he only revealed it to the real heroine of the story, Titania, when their relationship eventually progressed.

It was hard enough to get through his route in easy mode, but now that she was playing the role of a villainess?

It was practically impossible to make sure she gets at least ten percent on this cursed affection meter on top of their heads!

Still, she would have to find out if the reset button exists, her only hope of going back to her world.

After the bloodstained prince had said his piece towards the family sitting on the throne, a game notification appeared in place.

A new episode had begun: “The Prince of Liars and Fairies, Oberon Vortigern.”

Would you like to be teleported to the maze garden?

>[YES]

[NO]

Ritsuka half-wished her only friend in this world was right by her side. 

Castoria!!! You were fucking right!!!! She should have just stayed in the forest with her instead of attending this stupid ball!! ARGHHHH!!!!

Nevertheless, she pressed on the [YES] button before the timer for it counted down ahead of her. Seriously, why even put a [NO] option? When she gets her hands on the being who thrusted her into this world…

Her next blink was the sight of the very garden itself that Titania had confessed her love to. And the very place Oberon swore to protect her.

Ritsuka had to admit that what she was doing was stupid… but she had to try for that reset button. To be able to get back home, to be able to survive in this messed up game.

—

“I connected shit.”

“No, you didn’t! Oh my god! For the hundredth time, it's because you were going to kill me back then!”

“Nope, nope. Lalalala~ I’m able to see lies~ You know that well by now!”

“Urgh, Castoria!!!!!”

The fairy could only snort and laugh at her two friends. She also didn’t think they would be able to genuinely fall in love with each other, but here they are, arguing already like an old married couple.

“Oi, oi, who are you calling an old married couple!?” The prince growled out, reaching out to painfully pinch her cheek- “H-Hey, that hurts! Isn’t that true though!? Gah!”

“It is not!” They simultaneously said, like an old married couple.

Ritsuka puffed her cheeks before crossing her arms, “As if you don’t act like one with the greatest blacksmith in the kingdom.”

The way her face immediately heated up as she stuttered caused her to internally scream while spewing out excuses, “W-What the!? Muramasa!? That boomer!? Are you serious, Ritsuka!? Psh, as if! He lectures me way too much! I really really hate it! I also hate how he g-g-g-gets rid of his shirt off whenever it's scorching hot. Fuck, I hate him! AAAAA-”

And Ritsuka’s laugh caused her to finally shut up. “Cas, I never said anything about Muramasa.”

“Weren’t you paying attention, tomboy?” Castoria didn’t miss the way her friend’s hand was entwined against Ritsuka’s own.

With Oberon’s tongue sticking out and a finger against his cheek to pull a mocking face at her, she grabbed onto her sword with a battle cry to destroy his ass for pushing her into a beauty contest with Knocknarea and Bageko from last month. Ugh, she should rob him too while she’s at it.

Ritsuka had to admit that her experiences here were nothing compared to what she usually witnessed back home…being the center of a reverse harem novel world of all things…but her goals have not yet changed.

She will still do her best to find a way back home even if the chances of finding it seems kinda bleak. But with moments like this, underneath the sunlight with two of the people she cherished the most, she finds that she could forget about those thoughts for a while and be at peace with them.

#ask #anon #obeguda #guda #oberon vortigern #but seriously!!! hakuno x gil death is the only ending would been great!!

[teneguine]

"Owa-ahem- um... Oberon," Lucina is careful to correct herself, whether the students that still linger in the classroom are paying attention or not, "I had meant to bring you this earlier, but..."

But it didn't feel extravagant enough. Nothing she could give him would ever compare to that which he had given her. In all of their years bound by both blood and friendship, Lucina's mind had never once held the same wonder as his.

For a time she had envied that, had wished to compare to the brilliance her cousin could spout off without even a second thought, but it had taken only a handful of years for envy to wane into admiration. She would never be Owain, but she didn't need to compare to appreciate the companion that he made.

Still, it was a little difficult to rival a giant bird when it came to birthday gifts.

Exalt picks her way carefully through the room and towards his desk, determined despite her own silly embarrassment. Only when she has come to face him finally does she remember to breathe, do her shoulders relax and her lips melt into a smile.

Because she was not Owain, and he had never expected her to be.

"I had this made a bit ago by a local smith... it's all leftover material, but I figured every weapon these came from has a story for you to come up with." It feels silly, she feels silly, but she hands a little linen pouch over to him anyway.

Inside is a bracelet of soft, braided leather adorned with old steel. There's a tiny engraving on the inside, one carved carefully to resemble their shared brand.

"It's no sheath, it doesn't serve any practical purpose, but..." Exalt shakes her head, "I have something from you to carry with me always, I figured it was time I returned the favor."

A hand comes to his shoulder, squeezing gently. Her voice has quieted now, enough so that it does not dare reveal his true name to those still in earshot. "Happy birthday, Owain."

//via birthday asks; no longer accepting

Crimson flashes over his cheeks. Owain has half the mind to remind Lucina that speaking his name in public is an easy way of ruining his mysterious secret. But he can hardly muster up a word before she picks back up again, explaining what sounds like a rigorous process for picking out a gift.

Just this once, he'll let it slide.

"By the blustering axe of Bartre! Lucina, this sounds legendary! You really shouldn't have... But seeing as how you did, let's take a look inside..."

His gaze widens as he accepts the gift, cloth entering the palm of his hand. "It looks small, but..." carefully, his fingers enter from the top. They widen its cinch until they can fit, and as soon as he can feel what's inside, Dark recoils.

"G-GAAHHHH! But its power...!!"

It is unveiled with a dramatic fling, its carrier left to drift onto the floor. Now, unraveled and in the light, it can be inspected by Owain. As his eyes trace over its form, tilting it to get a look at all its different angles, he makes a strange sort of face. Like he's being overwhelmed by dark energies or assaulted by some voice of the abyss. He gives off the impression that the distance he holds it from his face is entirely necessary.

"URRGH! Can't... Control... AUGH! MY ACHING BLOOD!!!"

Dark slips it round the wrist of his branded hand. It's a perfect fit, though one Lucina will not see for long, for he instantaneously flips back and unsheathes his sword.

"This ceaseless artifact of famed might has unleashed the slumbering supernova within my soul!" Reforged steel cuts a clean stroke across the open air. Then again, and a third time for good measure. None of his attacks are aimed at Lucina, but rather some pretend foe he seems to be making up for the sake of expressing his gratitude. "Darkness unending! I could sever the bonds between the fabric of reality and marble of time if I so dared! URAHH! My chosen relic, which I dub The Band of Starlit Might, fuses with the stratosphere of my cosmic form, granting me total invincibility!"

To round out his routine, he lowers his Missiletainn and holds his fist to the sky. There, Lucina can see how the bracelet fits--its brand perfectly showcased on his arm.

"This gift is incredible, o Exalted One! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!" Dark stops to flash a few more poses, allowing his cousin to get the most out of her gift by watching him enjoy it. Some see him layer his hands over his body to conceal what wishes to remain mystique and reveal what brims with power, others invoke a stronger sort of meaning--either taking the shape of a noble weapon or familiar animal to achieve the effect.

"I shall never take it off," he declares, finally stepping forward to squeeze Lucina against his chest, "not even during bath time!"

#IC #ASKBOX #EXCLTED #//thank you lina this will now become a permanent part of his character #//i am also VERY ill about that lucina prose good FUCKING LORDDD

[asimfamilystory]

Even after working for an entire day Don wanted to prepare breakfast for his sleeping family, so when they awoke there would be pancakes waiting for them!

Obelia's birthday comes around, far less exciting than Oba's birthday but given that his birthday ended with firefighter's coming that was probably a good thing for the Weglein family. It's at this age that Obelia decides that she wants to become a vegetarian, to which her parents respect her decision. Obelia's traits are: Insane, Couch Potato and Vegetarian. The rest of her birthday goes off without any fires that day!

Don, Erin and their two eldest children sit down to enjoy some birthday cake from Obelia's birthday party.

Recently Don has gotten interested in chess and invites over a ranked chess opponent named Dustin Langerak, to which Don wins the game while forming a new friendship.

Don introduces Dustin to his youngest sons; Oberon and Obert. Dustin can't help but comment how much Obert looks like Don. Obert is surprised when Dustin picks him up and Don comments that Dustin is a natural. Dustin tells Don he wants a family one day, he just hasn't found the perfect woman for himself yet.

Oakley has aged into a young adult himself. His traits are: Hates the Outdoors, Excitable, Heavy Sleeper, Neurotic and Neat. His lifetime wish is to become a Chess Legend.

Oakley sits down to play chess with his dad, wanting to start preparing himself for playing chess professionally. However his dad had other plans, spending the entire session telling Oakley he needed to find a more stable job, convincing his son that joining the sports career was for him, that he needed to exercise his mind AND body.

This morning is Oakley's first day of work. He isn't happy about it as he doesn't want this job, but as long as he lived there he had to go.

Oakley begins working out, he did have to agree with one thing his dad said, that he needed to take care of his body and his mind. As soon as he can afford to move out he plans on quitting the job and dedicating his time to playing chess professionally.

While his second oldest is, reluctantly, preparing for his job that Don had...encouraged...Oakley to take, Don himself was reading a book to improve his logic as he had taken interest in playing chess competitively himself. Don's argument though was that he worked a good paying job and only needed to go in one day a week so he had plenty of time to compete and support his family.

While out reading Don runs into Dustin and the two of them hang out. Dustin dares Don to go and start a fight with a random Sim and Don agrees, going towards Victoria Andrews, who had been minding her own business, and just started slapping her silly.

However a fight does break out, but not between Don and Victoria but between Jared Frio and Christopher Steel, to which Jared wins quite easily.

Obama's birthday party comes as well. Her traits are: Easily Impressed, Virtuoso, Hates the Outdoors and No Sense of Humor. She is already annoyed with her younger siblings.

#sims 3 story #sims 3 screenshots #sims 3 gameplay #sims 3 simblr #sims 3 family #sims 3 blog #sims 3 #Don Weglein #Obelia Weglein #Oakes Weglein #Oakley Weglein #Erin Weglein #Oberon Weglein #Obert Weglein #Obama Weglein #Don forcing his wants on his second son #that won't blow up in your face Don

[lohstandfound]

yeah, so here's the iwwv au idea. maybe i have a plot now. sort of. maybe a little less murderous than iwwv but anyway

under the cut

Gwendolyn sat perched precariously on her chair, her trope of eight students sitting scattered around the rehearsal room.

“I want to throw you all a curveball,” she said. “We’re doing A Midsummer Night’s Dream, again. You might be sick of it, but who could ever get sick of these words?”

Gwendolyn began to drawl on about her vision and how it came to her.

Rich had tuned out for the time being, thinking back to the midsummer performance of Midsummer. It happened between the semester, adding a curious third enigmatic performance to the usual routine.

He played Lysander.

He was not at all surprised to find his Helena was Brooke, his Hermia was Chloe, and his Demetrius was Jake.

Because of course it was.

And he could remember that evening vividly.

The sun was just beginning to set, golden light filtering through the trees. And it was a fight between the lovers.

Christine, ever predictably cast as Puck, wove through the four of them with a red silk scarf. She drew them together while trying to evade Jenna’s Queen Titania.

It was not the first time Rich had felt Jake’s lips on his. Short-lived undeniable lust as they punctuated their lines with a kiss, and another, and another. Until Puck’s influence was unwound, and Rich’s Lysander pushed Demetrius away.

Him and Jake never spoke about the kiss again.

It was never Jake kissing Rich. It was Demetrius being overwhelmed from Puck’s magic, giving into the temptation to feel Lysander’s lips on his own. An infatuation before disgust.

“I want to switch things up a little-” Gwendolyn was still on her monologue. She had this all planned out. They knew she would switch things up as soon as they got started, though.

Jake and Chloe shared a glance across the room.

They all knew the Bard’s words by heart, but A Midsummer Night’s Dream was etched into the hearts of Chloe and Jake. Into their soul.

They had done these scenes thousands of times, back before they were broken down by Dellecher’s obsessions.

They had been Titania and Oberon. Lysander and Hermia. Demetrius and Helena. Helena and Lysander. Hermia and Demetrius. They had been the Mechanicals. They had been fairies.

“Jakob and Richard!”

Everyone snapped to attention, acting like they had been listening the whole time. Gwendolyn smiled.

“Jakob will be our Hermia and Richard will be our Lysander. Brooklyn and Chloe? You will be our Helena and Demetrius.”

Things were already fragile.

Jake sunk deeper and deeper into every character he played. At least it would be easier to remove himself from the remains of Orsino and dig out Lysander’s bones again.

Chloe’s descent was always quick. But she was always able to remove most of herself from her characters. Not to mention the fight between her and Jake. The one she was acutely aware that everyone heard.

This should have been something they had seen coming. A risky casting choice already predetermined with no auditions. Maybe their midsummer matinee was a trial. A test. Could Gwendolyn make this work?

Of course, they all knew Gwendolyn would.

#lohst.txt #bmc #be more chill #jake dillinger #brooke lohst #chloe valentine #rich goranski #iwwv au #look i cannot remember exactly what act and scene this argument between the lovers happens where puck is influencing it #but this is 100% inspired by the summer shakespeare performance of midsummer i saw where lysander + demetrius kiss and helena + hermia kiss #because puck is being puck and they're still arguing but they kiss because puck is pulling them together #it was a few years back but the set was pretty