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#fantasy au!
envy-of-the-apple · 2 years
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How would yandere Deku react to the reader playing a gold flute that's unbreakable because of magic that was gifted to her by someone from another dimension who has feelings for her? It’s like the music from the flute can connect with reader and her friend, there’s a special connection between them
i kinda mixed this with a fantasy setting idea?? Could be seen as either romantic obbsession or platonic. I kinda’ left that up to you. gn reader btw~
shaky writing because i was trying to sound all wise and philisophical and i forgot i was a smut writer
(Fantasy AU! Yandere, obsession, destruction of property idk there’s so few warnings on this one(?))
Playing God  
Yandere! Izuku Midoriya x reader
When you first meet Izuku Midoriya, you’re a bit surprised that this was the hero the Gods chose. He resembles nothing close to what the prophecy foretold. He’s merely a child, barely hovering about the age of fourteen, trembling in the dirt of your forest, marks and scratches all over his body. 
For a moment, you think to leave him. Eventually the elders of the village will come to look for him. There’s no need for you to meddle with the human’s affairs, especially ones concerning a hero. They did say those who intervened with the destiny of a prodigy often suffered dearly. 
It’s the frailness of his body that makes you break, how tiny he looks among the grass. How pitiful. 
A warm meal wouldn’t count as meddling, right? 
“Are you lost?” You ask. 
The boy stiffens, he looks up wildly, before finally focusing his eyes on you. They were bright. Green like the forest. He blended in quite nicely. 
He doesn’t answer the first time. 
“I asked if you were lost.” 
He hesitates, “...A little.” He finally admits. 
You laugh, it’s quick, barely a huff, finally deciding to extend your hand towards him. 
“Come. Let’s get you out of the dirt.” 
As his hand reaches up to grasp your own, you decide that he doesn’t have the hand of a hero’s. 
Despite his tiny stature, Izuku eats a lot. 
Two bowls have already been downed, and he’s midway through his third. Briefly, you wonder if you even have enough food to fill this boy up. 
He seems to suddenly remember himself, stopping himself from devouring the bowl completely, delicately setting it down. 
“Thank you for the food,” He says shyly, a blush blooms on freckled cheeks. 
You only hum, “Eat as much as you want. You need that energy.” 
He nods at your reply, going back to his meal, before pausing again. 
 “I’m...I’m sorry for barging into your home like this,” He says, guiltily looking away. He glances at the hall of your temple. 
“I promise I’ll leave as soon as I can...” 
You tilt you head, “What were you doing so deep in the forest anyway? Not even the woodsmen come this far.” 
“I was exploring,” Izuku replies honestly, “But the woods got so dark and I didn’t know where I was going and...” 
“Hm,” You say, “Exploring? Alone? That’s not very wise.” 
He’s helpless to do nothing but nod. 
“I know...” 
“Well, as long as you realize your mistake,” You sigh, stretching out your arms, “Be sure not to repeat this dangerous adventure again. Understood?” 
He blinks. He seems confused. 
“You...you aren’t upset I entered your forest?” He asks hesitantly. 
“The forest isn’t mine. I’m in no position to demand those things,” You reply, “I’m just glad you’re unharmed.” 
He seems to still be unsure. In response, you push his unfinished bowl closer to him.
“That being said,” You hope your smile doesn’t look like a grimace, “I might not be so forgiving if you waste your food.” 
His doubt seems to vanish instantly. Immediately, Izuku goes back to eating, scarfing it down with renewed vigor. 
When the sky begins to show signs of purple, you shoo him in the direction of his village. He keeps waving back until his figure fully disappears into the leaves. When he’s gone, you sigh, massaging your temples. There’s no moon in the sky tonight. A child is harmless, but it could have been worse. 
Maybe you should erect a barrier to keep pesky humans out. 
-
After centuries of practice, the art of the woodwind instrument has finally been mastered. 
The forest is quiet, thrumming with silent vigor. You can feel the spirits in the trees, the streams, the dirt, all await for your tune. As always, you sit on the floor of your temple, hands steady on your flute. You play something soft, melodious. The song blooms through your halls, spreading across the trees. Your eyes are closed, listening to the notes in a quiet tandem. 
“Wow, you’re really good.” 
You scream. The golden flute drops to the floor, sending a loud clatter as it rolls away. Recovering quickly, you immediately grab the instrument, before sending a seething look at the intruder. 
At least he had the conscious to look remorseful. 
“Sorry,” Izuku says hesitantly, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 
“It’s fine,” You say too quickly. 
You take a deep breath, trying to sound a little more patient. You still can’t keep the frustration in your voice, still too flustered at how easily you were startled by a mortal.
 “Why are you here anyways?” 
He looks away, “I...was doing some exploring...again.” He says shyly. 
When you give him a look, he’s quick to respond. 
“Safely! This time.” 
You swallow your annoyance, “Wonderful. I’m a little busy at the moment. If you’ll excuse me.” 
You get up, brushing down your kurta. Izuku is quick to follow, scrambling to walk beside you. 
“What-what are you busy with?” He squeaks, “I could maybe help you?” 
“Gardening,” You say stiffly, “It’s mainly heavy-lifting work. I’m not sure a child could help me.” 
Why was he here? How had he even found you? Hadn’t he learned his lesson last time he got lost? You wondered if the dryads had helped this kid out. Annoying you was something of a pastime for them. 
“I can help! I’m pretty strong. And-and I could...” He trails off when you sigh. 
You come to a stop. 
 “Child, don’t you think it’s a little reckless to be wandering the forest again? Why don’t you go play with your friends in the village?” 
His face falls and you wonder if you said the wrong thing. When he glances down to stare at the dirt, you know you’ve said the wrong thing. 
“Who know who I am, right?” He mumbles, kicking at the dirt, “You already knew my name.” 
You don’t respond. He already knows your answer. 
“The kids in the village don’t really like me...” He quietly says, “They say the Gods wasted their gifts on me...that I don’t really deserve it.” 
He looks at the trees. You follow his gaze, hoping to catch what he sees. 
“The elders also say think same thing. They never say it...but...I can tell.” 
You can almost imagine it, a boy with green hair being ostracized by children, each which jealousy, annoyance, that this was the hero the Gods chose. Adults clambering together, whispering their distaste in hushed rumors. 
“Do you believe them?” You ask. 
He looks at you, confused. 
“They said you were a failure. Before you could even start. Do you believe them?” 
He doesn’t hesitate, this time. 
“I don’t.” 
You laugh at that. The confidence a kid like him has. You admire it, honestly. 
Heroes are rare, an abnormality. Despite all the years you’ve lived you’ve only met a few. You’ve never seen a hero grow, get stronger, flourish with the gift of the Gods. 
“Do you believe them?” Izuku asks. 
This could be an opportunity.
You tilt your head. “Which Gods have visited you so far?” 
He only has one gift so far. Strength, from the sun. You hum in acknowledgment, before calling out to the forest. You ask for ore from the caves, wood from the trees. 
You ask for indirect heat, from the moon. 
The sword is too heavy for Izuku. He bends a bit, struggling to support the weight.
Still, he doesn’t let it drop. You smile at that. 
“We’ll see.” 
Watching over a hero might give some entertainment in your mundane life. 
Izuku visited consistently. His favorite time was in the evening, just when you were about to play your tune. You don’t mind. He’s diligent. A hard worker. You supposed it’s because no ones bothered to try with the little hero. He’s grateful for it. 
You just wish he’d be a bit more efficient. 
“It’s been hours, let’s just stop here, for now.” You say, coming to stand beside him. 
He’s barely sitting, almost lying in the grass, exhausted. The hero groans in what sounds like acknowledgment. Slowly, he tries to lift himself up, staggering. 
You sigh, “Take a break. Gain back your strength.” 
He collapses back to the floor, and the sword sinks into the grass. Curious, you step towards his work, the job you’d given him for today. 
As you expected, it wasn’t a lot. The dead stump you instructed him to cut down barely had a scratch on it, a shallow line where his sword had mashed through. Could be his age, or his overall power, but Izuku was weak, despite the gift the Sun had given him. 
“No,” You tell him sternly when he tries to wobble to his feet, “Just sit for now.”
He looks like he wants to argue, but he wordlessly complies. You were glad you had to stop him from pushing himself, instead of the other way around. Tenacity was honestly the only thing he had going for him at this point.
“Thank you,” Izuku politely takes the cup you offered him, drinking the contents down in one swing.
You stand next to him, waiting for him to finish.
He couldn’t access his gift, he told you when you berated him one evening. He knows it’s there, deep within him, but he can’t reach it. Theoretically, cutting down a stump should be child’s play with his gift. You were pretty sure it was because he lacked any initial power. In order to start a fire, one needed a flame. Izuku didn’t even have a spark. 
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” He says when he finally catches his breath, “I can still feel it. It’s still there, but I can’t use it. Am I still not strong enough?” 
You give him a look over. It’s only been a few weeks but he’s already gained a bit of muscle. Not by a lot, but he didn’t look like he’d fall over by a gust of wind at any second. 
It should be more than enough, right? 
Maybe you were looking at it the wrong way? You bite your lip, studying him. He’s strong, plenty strong, but maybe it isn’t just physical strength that’s stopping him?
“I think the issue is that you aren’t picturing it,” You finally say. 
“Picturing it...?” 
You nod. “Gifts mainly are channeled through your body, but you need to guide it. I’d suggest temporarily setting a goal, before you fully harness your gift.” 
You expect him to jump up, eager to try your strategy out. Instead, Izuku uncharacteristically remains seated on the floor. 
“Something wrong?” You ask. 
He shakes his head. 
“No, it’s just: you’re always helping me,” He says, “I wish I could do something to repay you.” 
You feel a little guilty when he says that. You still don’t have the heart to admit you’re doing this for your own entertainment. 
He gives a frustrated huff. 
“But I’m not really sure what a human like me could give a God.” 
Now, that gets a laugh out of you. Izuku’s face falls to confusion as you almost fall to the floor in hysterics. 
“Sorry,” You huff, out of breath, “Do you...do you think I’m a God?” 
He hesitates, “You...you aren’t?” 
“No,” You’re still grinning, “Not even close.” 
“But the-the temple,” He flounders, “Your-your powers?” 
You shake your head. 
“I was simply gifted by the Gods, same as you.”
His eyes widen, “Are you a Hero too?” 
“Not quite,” You hum, “I think once, a long time ago, I was a human. A normal human. But I did something that a God rather appreciated. They gave me my gift.” You whirl the flute in your hands. Izuku stares at it, transfixed. 
“What happened?” He suddenly asks. 
You glance at him, he’s backpedaling, trying to squish words in a sentence. 
“Why did the God give you your gift?” 
Your smile falls.
 “...I don’t remember.” 
Izuku sits back, something somber on his face. A wince of anger.
“You...don’t?” You shake your head. 
“It happened centuries in the past. It’s...trivial to recall things that happened so long ago.” 
Izuku sits, letting what you said fill the silence. He doesn’t move until you’re scowling, telling him to get to work. He’s quick to comply. 
Your theory is proven correct when Izuku closes his eyes, focusing on his gift. When he swings, the brunt of the sun comes with it, shattering the stump completely. It’s shaky, uncontrolled, but he did it. 
When you ask what he was thinking about, he cheekily tells you its a secret. 
There’s a festival in the village that evening. Timidly Izuku asks if you will attend. His face falls when you shake your head. He’s suddenly wondering why you haven’t left the forest in all the years you’ve been alive. 
“That’s the price of immortality,” You hum. 
“Imprisonment.” 
_
Izuku is sixteen when news of him reaches the kingdom. 
Imperial knights are sent to his village immediately. Within weeks nobles and merchants swarm his tiny town, endlessly gifting him with gold, jewelry, expensive clothing he’s never seen before. 
Even the current crown prince of this era came to greet him. 
“His highness says there’s a school in the palace, a place where people can train with their gifts,” Izuku says, swinging his knees on the roof.
You idly stand beside him, onlooking the view of the forest. It was so pretty like this, the time just before nightfall came. The temple is washed in duller colors as the sun disappears beneath the skyline. You can see the moon creeping up to take its place. 
Usually, he’s dressed so modestly, simple clothes, scuffed pants. Today, he sits in your temple wearing an expensive shirt, material you’ve never even seen before. He looks healthier. Fuller. He gave you a fruit you had no name for. It tasted sweet on your tongue. 
“Exciting,” You state, indulging him, “When are you planning on departing?” 
He frowns. 
“In a few days,” He says. 
His tone is off. You tilt your head. 
“Are you not excited?” You ask, “This is the chance you were waiting for, correct? After all, there’s so little training you can do in a forest.” 
“I am,” He returns, too quickly, as if he’s trying to convince himself more than you. 
He isn’t looking at you, rather, he’s avoiding looking at you completely. Bright green eyes stare into the horizon, dimmed by the setting sun. 
“Then?” 
“You won’t come with me,” He phrases it as a statement. A certainty. 
“I won’t,” You agree, “Why are you so worried with my presence?” 
“I just-” He doesn’t respond, trying to figure out the correct words. He takes a minute. Then another. 
“I wish you could.” He gives a glance at your flute. You can’t make out his expression. “But you can’t.” 
You hum. 
“Have you ever wanted to leave this place?” Izuku asks. 
That question has never crossed your mind before. You peer into the forest, alongside him. You can see treetops, hills, valleys. It’s all yours. 
But have you ever wanted more than that? 
How have the humans developed? How has the world changed? The fruits Izuku brought, the clothes he wore, you wanted to see the place they came from. 
“I think It’d be nice if I could,” You reply honestly. 
This gift was a curse, as well as a blessing. But you were happy with that. Content. The world will change around you, evolve, possibly leave you behind. But you’re fine in your little world filled with green. 
You know Izuku doesn’t see it that way. No mortal would, not with their finite days. 
“You never told me,” Izuku says. 
“Told you what?” 
“Which God gifted you.” 
You smile, “Why does it matter?” 
He frowns, “Is that you saying you won’t tell me?” 
“Not quite,” You honestly state, “I’ve given you some hints, I believe.” 
“Isn’t it more fun to figure it out yourself?” 
He doesn’t respond, not to your last statement, at the very least. 
“I’m not strong enough to help you, yet.” He whispers, turning to look at you. 
“But I will be, one day.” 
You smile at him. But, for some reason, his words feel like a warning.
The next day, Izuku heads into the kingdom.
You don’t see him off. You know he understands. 
It’s not like you could. 
_
You lied to him. 
You remember how you got your gift. Just pieces, shatters of a complete memory. Sometimes you try piecing them together, trying to create a concrete storyline. Something always feels wrong, uncomplete. 
You always give up. 
In the end, it was pointless to try to explain remnants of a memory to a boy who can hardly fathom your passage of time. 
Tonight, once again, the moon doesn’t join you. 
_
To you, 11 years is only a moment. 
To Izuku, it’s more than a decade. 
He’s bigger now. Earlier, he was shorter than you, thinner. Now, he feels larger than most trees, towering over you. Untamed green hair is shorter now, and those giant emerald irises have matured. 
The only thing you recognize is the smile. Soft, hesitant. Nervous.
As if he’s unsure if you even want to see him. 
He timidly waits by the entrance of your temple, patiently waiting for you to acknowledge him. It’s a little comical, with how big he is, yet his posture remained the same. Polite, to the end. 
You wait for a minute, then two. 
Finally, you sigh. 
“Come here, Izuku,” 
He’s huge, practically dwarfing you. He has to bend over a little, hunch, in order to wrap his arms around your smaller body. But you’re just as warm, just as welcoming. 
You pat his broad back, and you can feel him relax into your hold. 
“Welcome home.” 
“You can only stay for a few days?” You cock your head, disappointed. 
He’s nodding, just as remorseful. 
“I already visited the village,” He’s sighing, leaning back, “So much has changed.” 
You laugh, “I can imagine. Tell me, what was it like?” 
Izuku tells you stories. Stories of his travels. Stories of the adventures he’s had. Stories of the long harsh battles. Stories of finally slaying the nightmare that had plagued this world for decades. Stories of being a hero. 
You wonder if he feels guilt, guilt that you weren’t there to watch him. You can’t blame him. That’s how he is. He needs to be everyone’s savior. You often wondered if that was just his personality, or the traits of every hero. 
You like to think that it was just Izuku’s. 
He’s smiling when he finishes his tales. The sun is setting in the sky. You won’t let him stay the night. 
He’s matured between his younger years. There’s no disappointment on his freckled features. He nods, with a smile. 
“You can only stay for a few days,” You say, tilting your head. 
“I’m offended you aren’t more saddened about leaving.” 
He jerks, stumbling over apologies and you laugh. 
“No it’s just, I have a feeling.” He smiles knowingly, a light blush over his tanned faced. 
You prod, “Feeling?” 
He nods, “I won’t be leaving you.” 
You don’t know what he means by that. It sounds metaphorical, because he must know you’ll never leave this forest. You’ll live forever, while he, the great hero, withers away with mortality. Another will take his place. 
Still, his last words feel strangely cryptic. You force yourself not to linger on it. 
~
Something was wrong. 
You woke up. The forest was screaming. You could hear the horrid cries of the trees, the saplings. 
They were screaming for you. 
You’re stumbling through the halls of your temple. It’s night, but the moon isn’t out, not this time. There’s no one to see you. To hear you. You feel alone. 
But you aren’t. 
Izuku is right there, in the edge of your temple. You want to feel relief, but you can’t, not when the thing he’s holding in his arms is too familiar to you. Something he shouldn’t even be touching. 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’ve figured it out,” Izuku is smiling, spinning your flute in his hands. He’s too reckless, and you have a feeling he won’t listen to you if you tell him to be careful. 
It strangely feels like it’s the intention. 
“Figured what out?” You cautiously ask. Izuku doesn’t feel like the companion you trained all those years ago. He feels more than that. Bigger. 
It scares you. 
“It was the Lunar God. The one who gifted you.” Izuku says, his eyes trail up to the sky. There’s nothing. Nothing nothing nothing. 
“You never let me visit on days there’s no moon. You don’t have power on those days,” He looks down at the flute, “Neither does this.” 
“Izuku,” You feel like you’re begging but you don’t know why, “Izuku what are you doing?” 
His eyes are softer, like he believes his own words, rather than your tearful ones. You suddenly realize the forest wasn’t crying for you to come and save it.
It was crying for you to run and save yourself. 
“Don’t you get it?” He says, “I’m saving you.” 
There’s a crack. And you don’t have the courage to keep staring as he drops the instrument to the floor. There’s two distinct clatters, and you know it’s over. 
You can feel it. All of it, lifting from your skin. Your tether to the moon is disappearing. Your power is returning to someone who once gave it to you with a smile. The voices of the forest are growing weaker and weaker and weaker. 
Then you stop hearing it entirely. 
You sink to the floor, no longer someone with a god’s gift, just you. 
Just Izuku’s. 
He’s quick to retrieve his prize, following you to the floor of a temple that you once owned. His hands rub your back in a soothing gesture that lacks the intent, just the greed. 
“You’ll be okay,” He’s murmuring, “I’ll take care of you now.” 
He’s humming, just barely over your hushed sobs. 
“All you ever need, is me.” 
Izuku draws you into a hug, and you suddenly feel very foolish. 
Despite all the years you’ve lived, you were simply a mere human. 
Who were you, to play God?
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retro-radio · 1 year
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A gift
This is a birthday gift for the spectacular, marvellous and show-stopping @where-no-knight-goes Please check out their amazing art and give them the love and support they deserve.
Arthur had a gift. The gift of creation was something that had been bestowed upon him as a blessing but sometimes felt more like a curse than anything like he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how hard he tries. He first found out about his gift when he was playing in the garden with his papa who was showing him all the different types of flowers and plants and what they could do or symbolise. Arthur had gently touched one of the buds he was particularly interested in and it had flowered almost instantly, the delicate petals reaching up to the sun. Arthur had stared in disbelief and started crying out of confusion. His papa had gently taken his hand after calming the 5 year old before enclosing a small amount of dirt in his palm and telling Arthur to concentrate on a flower he really liked. Arthur had closed his eyes tightly and imagined a sunflower and low and behold a sunflower had emerged out of the dirt and spread out the golden flower pointed towards him. Arthur had thrown the flower out of fear and understandably started crying loudly again not knowing what was happening or why he was randomly making flowers. His papa had scooped him up and held him close, cooing and soothing him, telling him that he was special and this was something he should cherish and take care of.
Over the years Arthur started to gain control over his newfound powers and tried to explore where they came from; he traced his history all the way back to an ancient tribe that once owned these lands and believed their powers to create were bestowed upon them by the gods but their name had been lost to history long ago. Arthur continued to trace his roots and found that the tribes then settled down in villages across the land using their gifts for healing and nurturing the land surrounding them which helped provide and keep them safe. However, most had been burned down due to the previous ruler who chased them from their homes trying to capture and use them for their powers. Arthur's parents had been killed during one of these raids, guards had forced themselves into their home their heavy boots pounding against the floor, his mother had quickly hid him under a pile of blankets before being thrown to the floor and being dragged out, his father receiving the same treatment, the dirt beneath their knees soaked with tears and blood the king coming into view despite his hands being clean they were stained with the lives of innocents his moustache turned up in a constant sneer. Arthur had peaked out from under the safety of the blanket pile and despite his mothers warnings had padded towards the door his mess of fluffy brown hair visible as he looked around the corner of the door. “ARTHUR!” His mother yelled a sword held against her neck, the silvery blade reflecting the sun blinding Arthur momentarily. Everything was too bright and loud there was so much screaming and crying there was fire that was as hot as a thousand suns smoke pummelling into the air in thick clouds. 
“Whose this little fellow?~” He heard a deep voice purr eliciting a choked sob from his mother. Arthur was picked up, his head being held back so he was forced to look into piercing green eyes, his neck was held tightly so he couldn’t pull away and all Arthur could do was weakly punch and whimper since he didn’t have the strength for much else. “What’s your name?” The demon asked, his teeth sharp and white. King Peterson was a tyrant. He had no morals, compassion or kindness in his stone cold heart that only kept beating because it fed off people's misery. Arthur didn’t reply and just kept kicking and squirming whining about how he wanted his mother. The hand that was holding his neck let go and roughly grabbed his chin forcing him to look into the demon king's eyes again, the other supporting his tiny body. “What. Is. Your. Name?” he demanded not used to being denied something, making Arthur swallow thickly. “A…arthur!” He stuttered out. King Theodore started to tilt his head to one side observing the light freckles that dusted his cheeks, bits of dirt smudged across his face from earlier. He was surprisingly gentle with Arthur almost as if he was made of nothing but porcelain before briefly looking back at his guards who shoved an elderly couple to the ground. They were Arthur's next door neighbours and she always baked Arthur sweet honey cakes and checked up on his family. 
“What shall we do with them sire?” One of the guards asked, looking upon the herd of innocent people who were simply trying to live out their lives in peace under an iron fisted ruler. The king looked at the people, sticking out his bottom lip considering something before turning back to Arthur “...I think I’ll keep you” he said smoothly running his thumb across Arthur's cheek in an almost affectionate manner making him squirm more. “N…no please! I w…want my mommy!” He begged and started to cry loudly, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. He let out a loud scream when the hand came back to wipe away his tears, not giving up until he was cleaned up properly. “L…let me go!” He reached out to his mother “momma!” her instincts took over and she reached for her child but a guard grabbed her and threw her back down ripping away her only chance of holding her child again cruelly the king smirking watching as she wept on the ground. Arthur hid his face behind his hands not wanting to see any more but they were ripped away and held in a tight grip “Ah ah ah! I want to see you!” The king mocked, moving Arthur's hair out of his face and holding him close to his chest. “Hmmmm…you will make a good heir after mine…ran off” his face contorted into a scowl as he remembered the memory. Arthur remembered people in the village murmuring about how the prince ran off with one of the knights defying his fathers orders; it was the biggest scandal since all six of the king's siblings mysteriously disappeared and Arthur had a chilling feeling they were all connected.
 “Sire?…” one of the guards spoke, sweating slightly as his majesty fixed them with a glare “what?” He demanded making the guard swallowed “we have r…recieved news that the prince and his lo-” another glare was shot at the guard and if looks could kill this guy would be six foot under “Acquaintance” the glaring stopped and the knight continued “have been spotted in the mountains and-” the poor guy didn't even get to finish as the king hauled Arthur over his shoulder who began flailing and pounding his fists against his back while he started marching towards his horse. “I’m going to the castle with this little one” he tugged at Arthurs cheek who cringed at the contact “then we shall ride out to find my son!” He smirked and turned to Arthur “this is turning into a very good day! I get a new heir and can finally rid myself of Aaron and his…lover”. The guards all nodded and said “Yes sire!” In unison before looking at the crowd of people who clung to each other in protection. “A… and the people sire?” one asked, an evil smile morphed itself on the king's face, the skin contorting in some grotesque manner “Kill them”.
Arthur awoke from his nightmare screaming his arms failing out in all different directions, his raw cries echoing through the castle. He desperately felt around on the soft bed next to him finding only leaves and flowers. He sighed and started to tug the plants up from the fabric as well as the ones that had wrapped themselves around his wrists finally calming down from his nightmare. This was a regular occurrence for him, waking up in the middle of the night screaming from the nightmare that plagued him refusing to leave his tired mind, flowers and fauna evidence from his distress. He would run to his papa and dad normally but he couldn't do that here. This castle was cold and dark with nothing remotely homey about it. Arthur had been torn from his papa and dad by the cruel hands of king Theodore who was delighted to learn that he had a grandson claiming that he would now be the heir to the throne. 
Arthur had been Adopted by Nicholas Roth Aaron Peterson when he ran into them the fateful day his parents were killed he had clung to Nicky’s legs crying about the “mean king!” The horrific screams and smell of blood still fresh in his mind he had kicked King Theodore in the chin and ran as fast as he could, his stumpy legs growing tired after a while. Nicky had tenderly picked him up and held him against his chest. He was warm and smelled like wet earth and roses. King Theodore’s cruelty was something they knew too well about as they had to keep their relationship a secret as the prestigious prince Aaron should never be seen with a lowlife knight like Nicky. So, they decided to run away together finding their happiness in a small wooden cottage deep in the woods 
Arthur had buried his head into Nicky’s chest who desperately tried to soothe him while Aaron stroked his hair asking about his parents. With teary eyes Arthur had managed to tell them they were gone, which seemed to distress Nicky and Aaron. Arthur had hiccuped and whimpered all the way back to their cottage refusing to let go even when he had been set down on a chair and asked a couple questions like “how old are you?” And “What’s your name?” Arthur had answered the questions quietly and softly before breaking down again. Nicky had held him close and allowed him to wail into his chest the cries coming out like that of a wounded animal. “Shhhhh Arthur it's ok” Nicky said gently rocking him back and forth. “We are here…”
Arthur smiled fondly at the memory, removing the rest of the vines from his arms and legs. He had once created an entire ecosystem seemingly complete with animals; it was impossible to see where the bedroom ended and the jungle started. His Papa had helped him control his outbursts but sometimes he couldn’t control them. He had got so frustrated being kept in his room like some beast that he let it all burst out, toxic mushrooms sprouting out then withering away before being replaced with thick vines. When he was done he was standing panting in the middle of the room, sweat dripping from his face. 
His ‘grandfather’ (what was the title the king insisted Arthur called him) was overjoyed at his grandson's power constantly praising him but instead of making him feel proud of his creation it made his skin crawl uncontrollably. He hated it here! He wanted his papa and dad, he wanted to go home and sit in the forest surrounded by real plants instead of the ones he made. Arthur had been pushed far beyond his limit both mentally and physically he had made plants wrap themselves around the castle amongst other things and he didn’t know how much more he could take before he went crazy-
BANG There was muffled yelling from outside the door “where…SON!” Were the only two words Arthur could make out. There was more yelling and screaming and banging and Arthur took a hesitant step towards the door, opening it slightly with a quiet CREAK to see a tall masculine figure holding one of the guards against the wall, their eyes wide and bloodshot…they looked like- “Papa?” Arthur asked hesitantly, the eyes snapped towards him and Arthur shrunk back in fear. Maybe he was hallucinating? Maybe he had just called a homicidal maniac ‘papa’-
 “MY BABY!” Nicky flung himself at Arthur bringing him into a tight hug and holding him close burying his nose into his hair “I was so worried!” and “are you ok?!” Tumbling from his mouth in messy sentences Arthur whimpered and snuggled him, a sense of calm washing over him. His dad came over from observing the knocked out guard that laid in a crumpled heap on the floor and placed a hand on his shoulder joining the family reunion holding his son and husband close, tears pouring from his eyes. Nicky smiled gently and held Arthur closer “lets go before he comes” Arthur could only imagine how feral his Papa had gone searching for his son ripping apart the kingdom to look for him. After their frantic horse ride home losing several guards that had been tailing them Arthur was back at home lying between his Papa and dad who had not stopped fussing over him when they got home checking him over to make sure he wasn’t hurt his papa cursing the king “if that bastard lays a single finger on you again I’m going to rip his head off!”. Later, Arthur had hesitantly asked if he could sleep with them and without hesitation both agreed. Arthur snuggled up to his dad’s chest and let out a loud content sigh.
He had a gift…a loving family.
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platanc · 2 years
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early bird
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stolos · 4 months
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TimKon fantasy AU (prince/knight Tim & half-fae Kon)🤭 if y’all like this I’ve got a few more ideas
BONUS DOODLES:
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bl00dfroma-fairy · 1 month
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ollyrewind · 3 months
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i like to think they would be happy in middle-earth
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startheskelaton · 2 months
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In class day dreams 💙🦋
I’m not sure how I got the idea of Goji being into storytelling/writing… but I like it 💛
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habken · 3 months
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fantasy yuri
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lurrlonde · 11 months
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highlandered & knighted
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an-old-lady · 6 months
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Took a break from my final projects long enough to finish up The Pantheon! A year in the making lol!
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barblaz-arts · 5 months
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This new AU was inspired by a number of things, one them being, well, Lilo and Stitch. Very, very loosely inspired. With a fantasy twist! Also inspired by all the theories from my lovely followers thinking that Vega was made through witchcraft. It isn't necessarily canon in Vega's main storyline, but it is here.
Lookit me, putting Wenclair in another AU where they're in a custody battle. Mostly because I've also been in a Once Upon a Time mood lately, which is the kinda vibe I'm going for when it comes to the fantasy aspect(i.e. a lil bit lazy and lore 90% pulled out of my ass)
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retro-radio · 1 year
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Escape
For @ghostly-knight
Prince Aaron. The next heir to the throne and the one who would take over the kingdom when his father died. Aaron couldn't bear the castle; he felt trapped within its stone walls; he might as well be shackled and bound to the walls, his wings clipped like those of a bird. He sighed and fell back onto his bed looking up at the ceiling he could hear the knights outside training…his fathers pawns. His wedding was tomorrow. The word wedding felt weird to say he was only young and had his whole life ahead of him; he wanted nothing to do with his father. 
He promised himself he would never be like him. A tyrannical and cold ruler who would execute anyone he wanted and take whatever he wanted. Aaron was only something for his father to sell off to make some heir that would replace him. He walked over to his balcony and gazed over at the kingdom. He saw thatched roofs, smoking chimneys, and some stalls. He wondered what it would be like to live down there in the streets instead of in a castle. He wished sometimes he could jump from this balcony and land in the town below and run far away. 
BANG 
The main doors to the throne room were thrown open. Aaron could hear muffled yelling so he silently snuck over to the doors from his room. Peeking through the gap that only allowed a slither of light through. He could see someone on their knees in front of the king. They seemed to be bleeding from their nose as Aaron could see a few droplets starting to collect on the floor. Aaron's pale chestnut eyes stared at him mesmerised…he couldn't make out his face.
“Well well well” Aaron's stomach dropped as he saw his father rise from his throne and slowly make his way down the stone steps that had a carpet laid across them. Aaron pressed his eye against the door more. He watched as a wide smirk spread across his father's face. His footsteps echoing through the room. Aaron continued to watch as his father grabbed the person's chin and tilted their head backwards. “How convenient that you fell right into one of my traps!” 
Nicky stared into the king's eyes. He watched as the guards beside him nudged him roughly demanding he talk. “Yes…it seems so.” He motioned to the chains on his wrists. The king let out a loud laugh whipping away a tear from his eye. "Oh Roth you are so funny" . He grabbed Nicky’s hair pulling his head back forcing him to look into his eyes. Nicky whimpered “do you know how much money I spent trying to find you? Or how many men I sent out?!” Nicky shook his head looking up at him “It's close to in the thousands!” Theodore proclaimed letting go of his hair. 
He threw Nicky back down onto the floor making him groan and Aaron grimaced. His father could be brutal at times especially with people who he wanted in his bloodstained grasp. Aaron recognised the person's name. Nicky Roth? He was a thief that would often be seen sneaking around the town stealing from the rich. He didn't seem that terrible, he seemed kind almost. He helped many people get out of the slums that were overcrowded and ridden with disease and famine by loaning them money. Aaron remembered trying to bring the topic up with his father at the dinner table. He asked him why he would tax those that had nothing to give so much. And why didn't he use the tax money to build new homes and give people jobs? His father stared him down with such a glare it made Aaron's skin crawl and he felt like he should have kept his mouth shut. “They are savages Aaron. Low lifes deserve what they get, and if a few die, it's for the best". Aaron felt disgusted by his father. He tried to argue back that some of those people had families but he was quickly shut down.
When he was of age, he was summoned to his father's office to learn that he was to be married off. Aaron saw out of the corner of his eye a poster of Nicky his father had been chasing for so long. The poster had several daggers sticking out of it. But he didn't dare bring it up with his father. His father had spent ten thousand shillings on an assassin to bring him 'the boy,' as he liked to call him. Aaron found it noble that Nicholas was trying to build better lives for people; it made his heart flutter knowing there were still good people in this kingdom. 
“You were always a shifty piece of shit but now that I have you…” Aaron was snapped out of his thoughts watching as his father pulled Nicky’s sword from his sheath and observed it muttering to himself “what shall I do with you?” He smirked down at Nicky “I’m still shocked at the fact I have you… Me! The powerful and respected king". Aaron watched as his father laughed and played with the sword in his hand. Nicky seemed to shift his knees and said “if you would point him out to me I will be sure to pay my respect!” Aaron saw his father's smile drop and it was replaced with an annoyed expression he had to suppress a snicker. "Listen here you little-" Nicky interjected. “I wonder what your son thinks?” Aaron watched his father swing the sword down; he gasped and covered his eyes waiting for the scream and the splatter of blood that would paint the wall but it never came. He slowly opened his eyes to see the sword was inches away from Nicky’s neck.
“My son's left arm is worth more than anything you own! He may have his suspicions about me but as long as he keeps in line…I won't have to dispose of him.” Aaron wanted to scream but he didn't. He slapped his hand over his mouth. He knew this was just a possession of his father’s, something to be passed around and disposed of. He didn't know that he would be disposed of as soon as he had served his purpose; it made him want to flee this life even more. It made him feel sick. Nicky rolled his head on his shoulders smoothly smiling “some people are getting sick of this game” Theodore smirked as he leaned closer. He pressed the sword against Nicky’s neck drawing blood. “This is my game and that means you play by my rules”.
CRACK!
Aaron saw his father's head fly back, blood spurting from his nose and onto the floor. He was screaming in pain and clutching his nose. Nicky kicked the two guards in the ankles making them fall over and squirm to get back up. He ran towards the window. Aaron threw open the door. His father's eyes were fixed on him. “AARON!” He screamed. Aaron didn't listen and ran towards the window grabbing Nicky’s sword on the way. He handed it to him as he climbed onto the edge of the wide open window. “GET HIM!” Theodore yelled as the two guards raced towards them. Time seemed to slow down for Aaron as he clutched Nicky’s hand “take me with you”. Nicky looked at him perplexed. Aaron didn't care. He couldn't stand this cold castle where he was ordered around and made to act a certain way. He didn't want to have to wear a crown and meet princesses that his father thought he should marry. He wanted to break the shackles and fly high. Nicky stared at him “ok” he finally replied helping Aaron up onto the ledge “Aaron…get away from that animal!” Aaron looked at his father who seemed to be keeping the guards from getting any closer to the window. His nose was obviously broken as it was bent at an awkward angle.
“No!” Aaron stated suddenly feeling very brave “I hate this place…AND I HATE YOU!” His voice echoed through the room he was sure his grandfather would be looking down on him ashamed but he didn't care he took off his crown and threw it at his father “...You bitch” he watched as his fathers eye twitched. Nicky scooped him up in a bridal style grinning “hang on!” he said jumping from the window the two guards lurched forward their fingers grazing Nicky’s tunic. Aaron could feel the wind in his face. He looked up at the window seeing his father's face red and pissed.
SPLASH! 
They both fell in the moat. Aaron quickly grabbed Nicky's hand pulling him out he could see the guards coming from all angles, their swords brandished and his fathers voice ringing through his ear. “BRING THEM TO ME!” Aaron started to run his wet hair falling over his eyes Nicky followed looking at his hand “You can let go now!” Aaron ignored him and climbed onto his father's horse a black mare that was the fastest in the land, only the finest horses for their family. He climbed on, helping Nicky on and gripping the fine leather reins he felt ashamed of himself. His life was luxurious and wealthy yet he was surrounded by poverty and illness. He gave the horse a tap and they galloped off the guard's voice fading into the distance. They rode off into the woods, the trees becoming more dense the further they rode.
He was finally free.
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platanc · 2 years
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He is going to just bury his large head near his small, ethereal partner. A puff of smoke from his nostrils but that is it. Content to wrap around Augustine and hold him. He might even purr.
Sycamore is a welcoming and woody respite, running his adoring fingers over Lysandre's brow.
His fingers are soft and as he sits with the dragon, he exhales a little hum, one that blooms into a little nothing song, written one lazy note at a time.
He doesn't flinch at the heat, even if he should, even though the flames from that large maw could rend him ashes. A single tooth from the dragon could spell a painful death. But this is Lysandre, so he trusts that he won't hurt him, and despite his somewhat fragile, wispy constitution, Sycamore is just daring enough to have that trust.
The foliage surrounding him is a pleasantly autumnal orange, which excites him in its similarity to the flames of Lysandre's great fiery mane.
"It is a little easier to sit with you when you are smaller, but if you were man-sized all the time, I would never get to experience this."
Or those sounds of contentment. So cute- and Augustine is a sucker for it.
He kisses his nose.
"If I could only show you what it feels like... but this is as big as I get."
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time-woods · 6 months
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EMOTIONAL WIN ! ! the bug lets his emotions make decisions for once !
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yandere-writer-momo · 6 months
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Yandere Head Canons:
My Purpose
Mad Scientist Husband x Reader x Yandere Clone
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Now your husband, Dorian Goodman, truly believed he was doing you a favor with his newest creation… or should he say creations? He felt like a horrible husband by being away from you for long hours but he was allergic to pet dandruff so that was out of the equation… so why not clean himself? That way you wouldn’t be lonely! He only had his genius to blame for the horror he inflicted on you from this…
So imagine waking up to see your husband laying beside you in the bed still? His arms felt colder than normal and he smelled like preservatives… something was off but you couldn’t put your finger on it… his black hair was still long and beautiful just like his dark lashes. But something in your gut told you this wasn’t him.
And that’s when the figure beside you wakes up and gives you a bright smile. “I’m Dee. I’m your husband’s clone to keep you company while he’s away.”
You never shot up from the bed so fast to call your husband. You were extremely upset with him for creating a replica of himself rather than spend time with you himself… the nerve!
But your husband reassured you it was fine. That Dee was essentially him in every single way and that Dee could be your companion. He brushed off your concerns on this being cheating since Dee was a complete biological copy of Dorian himself but Dee could be deactivated by Dorian’s voice… it frustrated you. Why couldn’t he just leave his silly inventions behind and just spend time with his own spouse once and awhile? You were so lonely in this mansion…
But you didn’t take your frustration out on Dee. The poor clone was as clueless as you but he insisted he was created to serve you. Dee’s purpose was to take care of your needs
Dee would clean around the house and do the yard work. He was the complete opposite of the stoic Dorian. He felt more like a real human being than your own husband… minus how abnormally cold he was. He didn’t talk much but he was there. You started to grow attached to him
You spent a lot of time with Dee. He’d cover you with a blanket if you sat in your reading nook to read, he’d brew you your favorite coffee/tea, and he’d rub your shoulders. You constantly had to tell Dee that it was okay. That he didn’t have to be at your every beck and call but he would always say, “you’re my purpose.”
And Dee took notice of your sexual frustration when he peaked in on you touching yourself in the privacy of the bathroom within the glass shower walls. Curiosity began to settle in him. The cute whimpers and cries from your lips stirred something within him and he pushed the door open
You nearly screamed when Dee entered the bathroom, the only place he wasn’t beside you. But what shocked you more was the large erection in his gray joggers. It seemed he was more human than you thought and you were aching for something inside of you…
You let Dee have his way with you. He truly was a copy of your husband from how much he stretched you. Dee felt so good. He was so big and he was so strong. And he oddly smelled like your husband now… like clean linen and citrus. It was comforting and sexy. It was like Dorian was with your right now. Like Dorian was inside of you.
And in your passion it spilled from your lips once your orgasm rocked through you. Three little words that changed Dee forever, “I love you.” Dee held you while he rode you through your orgasm until his finally came. His strong arms held you up and his cheeks were filled with color. You loved him. You loved him. Dee didn’t want to ever be deactivated. Des wanted to be with you.
Dee would big spoon you every night. His large body pressed as close to yours as physically possible. There was a change in him. He was starting to become warm. Warm like a furnace. It was strange…. Dee became more and more human as the days turned to months. Your texts to your real husband became less and less but he probably didn’t even notice since he was busy with his inventions.
Dee would make you breakfast every morning and have his face between your legs to please you while you ate. Breakfast and sex became the norm for you and him. It felt so wonderful to feel wanted again. And every time, Dee begged you to tell him how you loved him. He would do anything to you to hear those words. Anything.
A shame you started to neglect your real husband. Dorian was shocked to see you folded up in a pretzel in your bed while Dee slammed into you like a mad man. This wasn’t what the clone was built for. He wasn’t built to fuck you. What the hell?
And that’s when Dee gave him a smirk. It was like looking in a mirror except there was something terrifying behind those ice blue eyes. Something sinister and Dorian didn’t like it at all. Dorian needed to get rid of Dee quickly… Dorian gave Dee one last look before he walked out of the room before you noticed
Dee kissed your head as he tucked you in. “I’m going to go get some water, okay?”
Dorian waited in the kitchen for Dee to come to him and the clone did. Dorian and him stared at each other for a few minutes before Dorian sighed.
“Deactivate.” Dorian told Dee but the clone remained standing there menacingly rather than deactivating like he was supposed to. “I said deactivate-“
And that’s when Dee launched himself toward Dorian and began to strangle him. His ice blue eyes filled with glee as the color slowly drained from Dorian’s face. An evil smirk on his face.
“It’s my purpose to make (your name) happy and there not happy with you so you can’t deactivate me anymore.” Dee whispered in Dorian’s ear. “They don’t love you. They love me.”
Dee ended up burying Dorian in the backyard before you woke up. He didn’t want you to be sad about your old husband any longer….
Dee slipped the ring he took off Dorian’s finger onto his. The shiny gold band now proudly on display. A smile on his face. Your real husband was with you now and he’d make you happy.
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pamgkrthwrites · 7 months
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I can’t help but imagine Barbarian!Bakugou having woman in this tribe/clan really upset he married you. Their upset because they wanted to be wife Bakugou but no, he got a pretty Princess wife who isn’t even a barbarian to be his wife.
One woman in particular is so upset about it that she’s told other tribes that “Katsuki Bakugou married an ogre of a wife just to have peace relations”. She uses the fact that very few people have seen you. Which is actually because Bakugou got you pregnant out of wedlock and you didn’t want anyone to know.
The first time Bakugou hears of this rumour is at a tribal meeting, when a another chief of a different tribe says “I feel bad for you, Bakugou. I would even imagine myself marrying an ugly woman like your wife.”
The man’s head is cut off within two seconds.
Bakugou tries his best to keep the nasty rumour from you, but once you hear it you are distraught. It’s makes it harder for you to leave your shared tent. Bakugou has to beg you to even sit up in bed your that upset.
It’s put Bakugou in the worsts of moods for everyone else.
It’s only when your 8 months pregnant do people of his tribe see you, with pregnant belly. People can connect the dots. This pregnant woman leaving the tent of their chief and her pregnant belly is the size of roughly how long said chief has been married? Nothing else needed to be said.
You feel so self conscious that people are staring at you, making you fear you really are that ugly. Please are only staring because your pretty as a goddess and your pregnant!
So when you meet a chief of another tribe, all he does is softly chuckle and goes. “Sorry- I wasn’t expecting such a pretty thing. Didn’t think you’d be an angel.”
Bakugou on one hand is possessive as fuck but on the other sees how you aren’t taking the compliment seriously. He tries his best to reassure you that you are the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.
It’s only after once your daughter is born so you start not caring what people think how you looks, because looking at your daughter!
Her face lights up your world and no one can take that from you.
Of course, Bakugou still isn’t happy some spread around that ogre rumour and started trying ti find whoever started it. Once he finds out it’s a woman from his tribe who tried winning him over, he is fuming. Leaves a nasty scar down her face as punishment.
Whenever he goes out now, he brags about how his beautiful wife blessed his eyes with a beautiful daughter. And if anyone tries to disagree his sword is out.
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