#and then 3. i like mizora having her devil appearance as her “dark form” which is unique to vampire sims....

[chloedrewitt]

Can I request a oneshot where gn reader reassures Wyll that he isn't a monster but someone who is so good that he sold his soul to help others & he is just amazing to them? Not Wyll Ravengard, Son of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard, not Blade of Frontiers, but just Wyll. And the horns, bumpy skin, & the blackened eye are living proof of his strong moral compass. That's the man they fell in love with!

Petrichor - Wyll x Reader

summary: You find Wyll alone after Mizora turned him into a devil, and realize that this transformation is making him question more than just his worth as a fighter. But you are determined to show him that he is still the man you fell in love with, no matter the horns.

pairing: Wyll Ravengard x GN!Reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none

a/n: Sorry this took me a bit longer, I needed a break from writing for a few days. But thank you so much for this request! I thought it was a very cute idea and hope that you like what I came up with <3 and some general info: this month will be very slow for me in terms of creative writing since I need to submit my thesis until early Feb. I will write another story from my Taylor Swift series and then open requests again, most likely in late January!

Masterlist - Discord Server - Request Info

You saw his horns peek out from behind a rock, followed by the sound of muffled sobs. Clutching onto a nearby stone, you dug your nails into the slick surface, a remnant of the rain that had ceased not too long ago. The air was thick with petrichor, and the muddy ground was slippery as you cautiously placed one foot in front of the other.

His figure emerged from behind the rock as you approached, and you observed him crouched down, hands grasping his head desperately. His fingers curled around the horns that had forced themselves from his skull, barely touching. You swallowed as you dropped your gaze from his horns to his face, which he hid behind his forearms. Only when you called his name did he look up.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice hoarse, suggesting he had been crying for a while. You looked down at him, brows furrowed with worry, as you extended a hand to place it on his shoulder. He tensed beneath your touch, yet the way he averted his gaze hurt even more.

“I was worried about you,” you said, crouching down next to him while you searched his gaze. He wouldn't meet it. “The smell of sulfur still stains our camp,” you continued, letting your eyes drop to the puddle in front of you. You could only assume with how much hatred Wyll had looked at that reflection on the surface before you arrived. It pained you to even think about it. “You haven’t been eating.”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, turning to look at you. His voice sounded rougher than he intended it to be. You could tell by the way he grimaced once the words had left his lips, exhaling deeply to regain some control. “I don’t want you to look at me, (y/n). Not like this.”

Your jaw tensed, and you sat down on the muddy grass next to him, not caring about how the ground stained your trousers dark grey and green. The only thing that mattered to you at the moment was him. The moment Mizora had appeared in your camp, you knew it would mean nothing good.

“You’re not fine, and I am not leaving.” Your voice was determined, definitive. He had known you long enough to understand that it made no sense to argue, so he remained silent as he let his arms drop from his head. You searched his gaze once more, raising an arm to cup his cheek gently. The look on his face broke your heart.

“What Mizora did is horrible, Wyll,” you agreed, letting your thumb run over the elevated lines on his cheek; a consequence of his new, devilish form. You wondered just how much his body had changed, your heart aching with the thought of him removing his clothes only to find a stranger hiding underneath them.

“I should have never entered this deal with her,” he said silently, and you shook your head, using the hand that was still on his cheek to make him look at you. Your grip was firmer now, nails gently grazing his temple and jaw.

“Look at me,” you said softly, eyes flickering between his. “There is no use reliving the past; all it does is torment you. And I hate seeing you tormented.”

He remained silent, but you saw the conflict in his mismatched eyes; the pain hiding behind them. “I am afraid,” he began, his voice low, “that torment is all I have left now.”

You shook your head quickly, almost violently, as you exhaled in frustration. “No, Wyll. Don’t you even dare think that, you hear me?”

He turned away, brushing your hands off of him before he stood. His eyes were locked on the puddle at his feet before he stepped into it, ruining the mirror image of himself in the process. His gaze now turned ahead, to the valley which the little mountain you stood on overlooked. There were a few trees, and a long, narrow river slithering through them like a snake hunting for prey.

“Every time I look at my reflection, I’m reminded of my mistakes,” he admitted, not even noticing how you rose to your feet, watching from behind as he spoke. “But it is not only that. When I lay down at night to sleep, I can’t lay on my side anymore because the horns get in the way. I used to be a side sleeper. Every time I touch my forehead, I feel them. When I fight, I am not used to having them in the way. I make mistakes, get clumsy.”

He balled his hands into fists at his sides and let out a frustrated sigh as he turned his head ever so slightly in your direction. You had crossed your arms in front of your chest, keeping your distance despite it being the last thing you wanted to do. You wanted to run to him, to hug him, but you did not move.

“They not only make me less human but less of a fighter, too,” Wyll continued, his voice lower, as if he was saying it more to himself than you.

“Wyll,” you said calmly, not taking your eyes off him as you approached him. “Mizora thinks she ruined you, punished you for disobeying her.” You saw him stiffen but continued anyway to make your point. “But she did none of that. Because what she doesn’t see is that it is your heart that is pure. It is a weapon your magic and swordsmanship are only fuel for.”

He turned to face you, and you used the chance to press your palm against his chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart against it. “And she cannot touch it. She cannot change your nature. Gold is still gold, even if painted over. What matters is not the reflection you see in puddles, but the good that you do. You do not need to hide behind names and appearances. I did not fall in love with them. To me, you are Wyll, just Wyll, and you always have been. You are the man I fell in love with, and that is what she cannot touch no matter how hard she tries. She cannot change your nature. You sold your soul so you could help people. It is the ultimate sacrifice.”

He stared at you with glassy eyes as he listened, lips slightly parted. His hand found yours, and he held it tightly. Your voice was now a little shaky since seeing the look on his face made it hard not to get emotional.

“What is inside of here,” you said, brushing his cheek gently with the back of your fingers. You caught a tear there and brushed it away softly with your thumb. “That is who I fell in love with, and that won’t ever change.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he replied, his words swallowed by a half-hearted chuckle. His eyes flickered between yours, but you simply smiled softly at him. 

“You don’t have to say anything. Just know that I will be by your side, no matter what happens. I will be here to remind you of who you are, until you learn to do so yourself. I love you.”

Wyll placed his hands on your cheeks, blinking away tears that would have fallen otherwise. “I love you, too, (y/n).” His demeanor changed then. His voice was serious as he added, “And I swear, if Mizora comes for you I will do everything in my power to protect you.” 

“I know.” You smiled at him, gaze dropping to his lips before you captured them with yours, wrapping your arms around him as a light drizzle began falling around you, distorting the reflection of your kiss in the puddles around you. 

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