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prythianpages · 7 months ago

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Take Her To The Moon | Cassian

cassian x love witch reader | summary: Curious over what it'd be like to watch Velaris from above like the stars do every night, you ask Cassian to take you flying.

warnings: fluff

word count: a little under 2K

a/n: I already had a flying fic planned for this au and when I saw that Day 1 of @cassianappreciationweek was flying, I thought why not join? This is my first time participating in a character week! and ofc it's last minute, I promise I'll be more prepared next time.

A canvas of shimmering stars were stretched infinitely above you. Cassian sat beside you, on the rooftop of your shop, his membranous wings folded neatly behind him. Your legs dangled over the edge, the pale moonlight reflecting off your shiny, pink boots. Your eyes were bright as they traced the constellations.

Our child. Our beloved.

Cassian’s head turned to glance at you. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“The voices.” Cassian replied, a faint furrow appearing on his forehead. Was he going mad? He was sure he had heard them–a distant echo of ancient voices. Yet, you continued to sit beside him, completely unfazed.

So beautiful.

“Oh!” Your eyebrows lifted in realization. Your fingers reached up to brush the earrings you wore, delicate pieces made from the dust shooting stars emitted. “It’s my earrings. They were made from the stars and sometimes speak to me.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do they say?"

“They whisper compliments, mostly. Such as the way I'm as radiant as the cosmos, as beautiful as the night sky…”

Yes. Yes.

You tilted your head in amusement, your eyes reflecting the stars above as if they took residence there. A beauty from the cosmos, indeed. Cassian let out a small chuckle, his ears now being able to distinguish those ancient whispers. You grinned at him, leaning back on the palm of your hands, your hair falling gracefully off your shoulders.

“They also whisper other things.” You added. “The stars, they see things we don’t. They’re always there, patient and watching. They know our secrets, our deepest desires. They hear our pleas, you know.”

Cassian’s head tilted upwards, lifting his gaze from you and toward the night sky. The moon was full and beautiful. The stars, eternal and steadfast, winking at him, sharp and bright. A sweet fondness had the corner of his lips tugging up.

“I know.”

A blissful silence enveloped the two of you, both lost in deep thought. Memories of that lonely night swirled in Cassian’s mind—the night he had stood under these very stars, heart full of longing and soul overcome with loneliness. He yearned for someone to gaze up at the stars with, and pleaded with them to send him someone.

A soft sigh escaped you and his wings fluttered in response, grounding him back to the present moment. Perhaps, his pleas had been answered. Because he was gazing up at the stars this very moment with you by his side.

You. Such a bright and beautiful soul. Like a fallen star reborn through the magic of love, and though he hasn’t known you for long, your presence was already illuminating his life in a way he had never imagined.

Take her to the moon.

Cassian's heart skipped a beat, head turning back to you. But you were still fixated on the sky, eyes full of longing, as if you hadn’t heard the whispers of the stars. He wondered what had you so deep in thought and the question was tumbling from his lips.

You blinked, the constellations gracing your cheeks enough for him to see the blush that had settled there. His eyes narrowed briefly. In the the time he’s known you, you have never shown an ounce of shyness.

“The stars are lovely tonight.” You said, dancing around the question. Sensing his gaze on you, you met his eyes, and something lit up in those sparkling eyes of yours. “Want to make a bet?”

“A bet?”

You nodded your head, a bit too eagerly, making him suspicious. Surely, you were plotting something. He could only hope it did not involve any of those pesky little lovebugs you’ve been talking about, another blind date or any more of your love altars.

One day when he had visited your shop, you had suggested for him to light one of the candles to the altar that spoke to him the most and ask for its blessing. He had meant to light one at the altar dedicated to romantic love but Honey, your cat, had brushed against his leg and startled him. He accidentally lit one of the candles from the altar of erotic love.

It would’ve been fine, really. An honest mistake that could’ve gone unnoticed...if it hadn’t been for the old fae woman who had chosen to light a candle at that altar not even a heartbeat before him.

“By The Cauldron, I’ve been blessed!” The woman, who could have easily been his great grandmother, had exclaimed as she threw her arms around him. You had to save him, sweetly coaxing the woman and sending her off with a sleeping potion that’d make her dream of her late husband.

You always meant well with your plans, carefully and thoughtfully scheming to bring Cassian closer to what he desired most—true love. But it seemed fate had a different plan, weaving its own tricks into your efforts. Despite your best intentions, your schemes often ended in failure, leading him back to you.

“If I can accurately guess how many stars are shining in the sky tonight, you have to take me flying.”

A small breath of relief escaped from Cassian. Flying was his territory, his expertise. But the stars…He eyed your earrings, gaze narrowing in on them. “That sounds like a bet you won’t lose.”

He caught the way your gaze lingered on his wings, a hint of longing still shimmering within your eyes. Realization dawned on him then. Is that why you had been sneaking glances at his wings earlier?

“Sweetheart,” he chuckled. “If you want me to take you flying, you could just ask, you know.”

“I can't just ask that! I'm shy!"

“You? Shy?” Cassian laughed again, finding the small glare you sent his way amusing. He shook his head in disbelief. There was a moment of silence and then: “So…are you going to ask me or not?”

You took a deep breath, and Cassian took pleasure in the sheepish look on your face, his wings twitching in anticipation. He watched as your mouth parted before shutting again and raised an eyebrow at you.

Then, finally, you said. “Will you take me flying?... Please."

Cassian stared at you, as if considering your words, even though he had already decided on his answer before you could ask the question. You’ve already done so much for him. He would do anything in return for you. He just wanted to tease you further for a bit but the longer he stared at you, the more he began to lose his resolve.

And when you batted your eyelashes at him, inadvertently striking him with your effortless charm, he was a goner. It was now him feeling bashful. Did you have to be so beautiful?

He barely managed to choke out a “yes” before standing. He could’ve sworn he heard raspy sounds coming from your earrings—like a snicker, almost.

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗

Cassian’s wings spread out magnificently behind him. He felt the blood rush to his neck at the way you regarded them in awe, stepping forward to admire them more closely. “Beautiful,” you murmured, the stars at your ears whispering in agreement and his wings shuddered at the compliment. “They’re so big. I’m envious.”

“Envious?” Cassian echoed. His chest swelled with pride. You had called them big.

You stepped back, leaving Cassian unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. He had anticipated the usual temptation many non-Illyrians succumb to—reaching out to touch his wings. But you hadn’t.

“I always wondered what it’d be like to fly among the clouds and stars, to feel the wind rushing past and see the world from above. That's what I was thinking about earlier...and you can do it so easily with those.”

“It is nice,” Cassian commented thoughtfully.

His wings, though scarred from countless battles and injuries, were one of the things he cherished the most. Each scar told a story of resilience, and he took immense pride in them and in their ability to let him soar through the skies.

And he loved flying. The joy, the exhilarating thrill that coursed through his veins. Flying connected him to his Illyrian heritage but also brought a profound sense of liberation. A way to escape and transcend the limits imposed by the ground and a way to be closer to the stars.

Take her to the moon. He heard those very stars whisper again.

He looked at you, the soft fabric of your ruffled blush top swaying gently in the night breeze. You were patient, hands clasped behind your back.

So with a smile, he said, “Well, what are we waiting for?”

Your eyes sparkled with excitement, and when he gestured for you to come closer, you approached without a word. His hazel eyes, tender and soft, lingered on you, silently asking for your permission. With a nod from you, he bent down slightly. One arm went beneath your knees the other behind your back and then he scooped you into his strong arms.

As you wrapped your arms around his neck, he felt the rapid, eager beat of your heart—a rhythm that matched his own. But his also carried an undercurrent of something deeper, more intense, spurred on by the feeling of you in his arms.

Standing at the edge of the rooftop, he glanced down at you, searching your face for any hint of hesitation or fear. “Ready?”

“Yes.” You replied and he found nothing but your enthusiasm reflected back at him.

His smile widened and he made a show of his wings. They unfurled further behind him in a graceful manner, a sound reminiscent of a sail watching the wind, resonating in the air.

“Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

Your arms tightened around him and then you two were taking off, the ground disappearing beneath you.

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗

Your eyes were wide with wonder, the cool night air ruffling your hair as you gazed out at the world below. Moonlight wove silver patterns across the rooftops, and the Sidra River shimmered up at you. As the clouds drifted by, you reached out with a hand, pink magic fluttering from your fingertips. A gasp of delight escaped you as you felt the misty tendrils of the clouds brushing against your skin.

From this height, every scent was vivid—the fresh, earthy aroma of the forest below mingled with the sandalwood warmth enveloping you. It was all a sensory overload that left you breathless, but in the best way possible.

“This is incredible!”

Cassian chuckled but he couldn’t agree more. He was happy to share this joy with you, the powerful rhythm of his wings beating steadily as you soared through the night sky. The world stretched out in every direction, a vast expanse of shadow and light.

It felt as if you were the only two people in existence, suspended between the earth and the stars…and the stars…

The stars seemed so close that you could almost touch them, and your laughter rang out, pure and joyous. Cassian watched you, mesmerized by the radiant joy on your face, pink stardust fluttering around you both. As he flew higher, the moonlight bathed you in a soft glow that made you look as celestial as the stars themselves...

What if you had been that shimmering star he wished upon?

A strange and startling shift occurred within him, causing his wings to falter for a brief moment. You were too absorbed in your wonder to notice, but Cassian’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer.

He savored the sensation of having you so close, wishing this moment could stretch on forever as the stars did.

a/n: The star earrings were inspired from Aquamarine's starfish earrings! I'm saving the fic of where Love witch meets the IC as part of my 2K celebration so the next part might be kind of an angsty one, depending on which comes first. If you asked to be on the tag list and don't see your name, please let me know!

series masterlist

series taglist: @mrsjna , @shadowsingercassia, @acourtofbatboydreams, @rcarbo1, @mvidaaaa ,

@stuff-i-found-while-crying , @lipstickmarks, @yamisukehoe , @mp-littlebit , @thecraziestcrayon, @talesofadragon, @ceoofyearning, @anuttellaa

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #cassian fanfic #cassian x witch reader #dream!cas

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year ago

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Put it on me - Roronoa Zoro x Reader

SUMMARY: A shared stash of moonshine leads to you pouring your heart out to Zoro. Despite his rather cold exterior, he takes your words seriously and asks you to put some of your burden on him if it ever gets too heavy.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.8k

Brought to you by my obsession with this painfully relatable song:

“Save some for me.”

Zoro’s voice wakes you up from the trance. You’ve been mindlessly drinking and reminiscing about the fight for what had to be at least two hours now. Enough time to slur your words and muddy your thoughts but the latter, as welcome as it would be, doesn’t seem to come. Flashes of scenes and echoes of voices still haunt you.

The swordsman nudges the axe you used to crack open the barrel. Quite crude but it works as it should - both a plug and a tap, depending on the blade's position. A spicy, dry stench fills the air as Zoro pours himself some of the dark-coloured moonshine.

He takes a large swing of the mysterious alcohol and winces. Very unlike him. A troubled cough escapes his chest.

“What is this?” he asks.

“The nightmare of hangovers yet to pass, I like to call it.” Used to the questionable taste of the beverage or simply numb due to your current state of light intoxication, you’re unbothered as you take another sip. The liquor burns your throat right down to your stomach. You can almost feel it wreaking havoc on your organism. Good. “We’re both alive and not blind, so definitely not methanol. Maybe it tastes like mouldy socks but it gets the job done.”

Zoro sits down on the ground next to you. His body is suspiciously close to yours, thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder, but you’ve grown used to it. It’s an open secret between the two of you - he’s allowing both himself and you this kind of intimacy as long as it remains unaddressed. If it did, he’d have to admit he’s not as aloof towards you as he likes to make himself look and that is not something Roronoa Zoro has the courage to confess.

“Why are you drinking alone?”

“I’m not. You’re here,” you say as you gently poke his arm.

He chuckles and shakes his head. Zoro takes another sip and winces again but not as much as before. The ‘mouldy socks’ flavour is growing on him. Or maybe it’s the alcohol content?

“You can’t fool me,” he says in a low, serious tone. “Something’s on your mind.”

Zoro looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. His gaze is bright, perceptive. Even if you try, you can’t lie and convince him that everything’s in order. It seems that Zoro already knows your mood is foul, just can’t quite put his finger on the why. For a man who claims to be unbothered and uncaring, he sure does spend a lot of time and energy and studying your little habits and quirks. One might even say he appears to have a particular affinity for you.

“I ate shit back in the village,” you mumble without looking at him. You almost puke bolting down the rest of the dark moonshine. “Complete failure. Embarrassing doesn’t cover even half of it.”

Stumbling over the air and your own feet, you get up and pour yourself another cup of alcohol. You can see Zoro’s troubled gaze following your movements but he doesn’t say anything or try to stop you, although he’s sure you’ve had enough of strong drinks for the night.

“You did fine,” he says awkwardly. Despite meaning his words, niceties still have a problem making it through his throat. “Aside from leaving your left flank wide open but you’d have to die and be reborn to stop doing that.”

Sitting back down next to Zoro, you lose your balance and fall on your backside. Some of the moonshine spills and soaks your shirt. You don’t care about the stain for now but you surely will in the morning when the putrid smell fills your bedroom and refuses to be washed out.

“It was everything but fine,” you scold him.

Surprised, Zoro looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. Never before has he seen you so hung up about mistakes. Normally, you’d shrug and laugh and just say something along the lines of “shit happens, we’ll be better next time”. Still, no matter how much he racked his brain, he simply couldn’t think of anything in particular that could get you like that. Nothing about the day and its battles stands out to him.

“Nami getting hurt was my fault,” you admit. “Luffy and Usopp too. Shit, everything was my fault.” Out of frustration, you rub your face with your free hand.

“Nonsense,” he easily dismisses your self-blame. “You couldn’t have known about the whole human-turned-arsenal crap.” Zoro takes another swing of the mysterious moonshine. This time, he doesn’t wince or cough. Mouldy socks are beginning to taste like champagne. “I don’t think anyone could,” he adds quietly.

You hit the floor with a clenched fist.

“But I did, Zoro,” you drone your words. The image of the pirate captain is clear as day before your eyes. “That’s the thing. The moment I saw that man I knew something was wrong. He moved in a strange way and the way his clothes fit him… It was right there, in front of me. And I was blind like a drunk bat stuck in a pile of cow dung.”

“Hunch isn’t exactly the best strategy. You might as well have been wrong about him and attacked an innocent man.”

“Well, he wasn’t innocent, was he, Zoro?” The anger is rising within you. Why wouldn’t he just accept your fault? Why is he so frustratingly stubborn at putting the blame elsewhere? “I could have prevented all of this or at least given us an opportunity to prepare before Usopp got half of his bones broken with a cannonball. And all of this, Nami nearly dead, because when my moment came, I failed. I hesitated. I questioned my judgment. Like I always do.”

The wooden floor is hit yet again when you look for a way to let out your anger.

“I can’t believe I’m the one saying this, but,” Zoro makes a pause and clears his throat,” you’re being too hard on yourself.”

A silence falls between you.

The air in the cramped storage room is stuffy, soaking with a plethora of strong smells: damp wood, smoked fish, the dark liquor you’re drinking with the swordsman, aged cheeses that Sanji seems to be a fan of, roasted coffee beans… But all of those aromas are strangely comforting to you, the smells that remind you of a gathering of adventurous underdogs that have grown to be a family.

A gathering that you’ve almost killed today with your incompetence.

“Truthfully, I wish I was like you,” you finally break the silence. Zoro gives you a questioning look. “You never fail, always prepared and ready to fight. Even when you do make mistakes, which is rare might I add, you can prevent anyone else from getting hurt because of you. I wish I had the power to always do the right things and do them well. When will a day come when I finally know how to act? What to do? I make the same stupid mistakes over and over again and nothing seems to change no matter how hard I try. Maybe I’m just broken and you lot are doomed for hanging around me.” For a moment, you look into your cup. Your reflection in the dark beverage is rippling, making your face hardly recognizable. Just like when you compare who you are to who you should be. “At least in my mind, in my fantasies, I'm the hero that saves me,” you whisper to yourself and down the rest of your drink. It’s easier to be delusional when you can’t string a coherent sentence.

The realization hits Zoro like a derailed train. Of course he’s never seen you get hung up over your mistakes - you’ve been holding it inside, beating yourself up away from everyone’s eyesight. Your otherwise happy-go-lucky exterior is a mere facade, the face of someone you’d like to be. And the more you realize it’s not your true face, the more upset you get. How long have gone holding yourself to an impossible ideal? Hating yourself for being anything but perfect and imposing?

How heavy is the real burden on your shoulders?

"I'll do it for you,” he offers quietly.

Your confused gaze meets the confident glint in his eyes. He looks sure of himself - more certain than he normally is. A smile threatens to pull up one corner of his lips.

"Do what?" you ask.

"I'll be the hero that saves you."

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips and echoes throughout the small storage closet. The sound bounces off the wooden walls and comes back to you with a certain depth and delay, making you feel as though it’s the world laughing at you and the poor sod that offers to help you - you don’t hold hands with someone who easily catches on fire, burning everything around them. That’s just stupid.

“Thanks but that still makes me the world’s biggest loser who can’t put the money where their mouth is and is stuck in a perpetual cycle of doom.”

You look away, staring ahead, but Zoro’s eyes linger on you. Sure, he can fight pirates and animals and fishmen and all the strange horrors lurking in the world but how in hell is he going to fight something immaterial? How powerless he feels with three swords at his side and yet no way to fight the foul-tongued beast in the back of your head.

"Just put it on me," he presses on. "If you need help, put it on me. If you're going through Hell, put it on me.” Then, to your surprise, he firmly grabs your hand, squeezing it in a meaningful manner. “Seriously."

You try to wiggle your palm out of his hold but it proves useless - his grip is iron, although not painful. No matter how much you’re enjoying this uncharacteristic intimacy, you know better than to get used to it. Zoro deserves better than to be the victim of your ricochet.

“You’ve got enough on your head already,” you say in a stern voice. “My own bullshit is the last thing you need.”

For the first time in weeks, Roronoa Zoro smiles. It’s not a smile of amusement, of being entertained. No, it’s a smile of seeing something, or someone, he holds dear. In other words, it’s not his mind that rejoices but his very heart and soul.

“I want to worry about you,” he confesses.

Tears are prickling at your eyes and you’re doing everything you can to keep them from falling. Alas, you’re quite far from sober and self-control is not an ability within your grasp. Your face feels hot as teardrops slowly roll down your cheeks.

A bitter scoff leaves your lips. “It will be an unending horror.”

“I’m not afraid,” he reassures you casually. “And we’re in the middle of the sea. I’ve got time.”

Hesitantly, you rest your head against his chest. Zoro welcomes the gesture, letting go of your hand and putting his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to himself.

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puppetmaster13u · 1 year ago

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Prompt 129

Danny, now an adult, has just moved to the city of Gotham. Actually he’s been an adult for a while, but every once in a while he has to end his life, at least legally, lest someone get suspicious. Usually whenever Dan or Ellie does an oopsie and pulls a firebird with being reborn through their core.

So legally, one Danyal Nightingale, has just moved to Gotham to open a bakery (Thank you for the wonderful recipes and bonding Clockwork) while taking care of his practically newborn son Jordan. Of course Elnath- Ellie- had to pull a core retreat too, which is just his luck.

It wouldn’t be a problem, but he’s trying to not be so broody. A ghost- even a half-ghost- carrying another core though, has instincts turned up to like, eleven. Which again, wouldn’t be much of a problem if not for someone falling into his dumpster late at night bleeding. A vigilante, which he’s sworn to stay away from that life years ago. And it’s not a lethal wound…

But his instincts are screaming to not let the person bleed all around his nest, and he knows from experience that it would continue to bother him. Which is how he ends up with Batman on his couch to Dan’s glee if the ghost chirps are to go by.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #potential spirit halloween #This is before Tim joined as robin but after Jason dies me thinks #Bruce is on a self destruction spiral and there was a lucky hit that managed to give him a concussion #He might cry a little when he first sees tiny baby Dan peeking at him from the crib #There's no proof of it though and he was out of it so it doesn't count #Danny is not impressed with this man's self destruction spiral #No you can't go back to wherever your base is you are sitting your ass down until your ribs are no longer bruised and youre not concussed #You can also just stay right there until breakfast is done you ancients damned idiot #Eventually Bruce will definitely realize the Nightingale family aren't human but for now he's stubbornly trying to leave #Normally when ghosts reform from cores they don't deage but that's not how it works for halfas who have living bodies #Hence them joking about it being like phoenixes or firebirds #does this count as mpreg???#idk it's like 3am rn lol

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sato-s-only-wife5107 · 6 months ago

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Reborn!Wukong: Jealous (Pt 2?).

Pairing: x fem!reader.

Word count: 1440.

Warning: nothing but Wukong being a grumpy pants. No Pigsys were harmed in the making of this one shot. Not really proofread.

A/N: This demon would get jealous so many fucking times, he's too adorable. I love him sm. Hope you enjoy!

<---Previous | Start | Next--->

“Really? You have to tell me more!” you beamed.

THIS IS BULLSHIT!!!

Wukong watched the scene with a scowl. Since you met the vital spirit, you hadn't stopped talking to him, and it was getting on Wukong’s nerves! … some might even say that he was jealous… but that was ridiculous. The Great Sage doesn't get jealous! Well… ignoring that one time that he did… and a bunch of other times-

“Ugh, so annoying,” he grumbled as he folded his arms and glared at you.

Ever since the group continued on with your journey to collect the scriptures, you two just won't.stop.talking. Don't get him wrong, he was glad that you made a new friend and that you were a lot more vocal than you were prior to the whole Yuandi event. It’s just that… as your time with your new friend increased… the attention you showed him rapidly decreased, in his mind, at least.

You still cuddled with him to sleep, heaven forbid you ever not sleep in each other’s arms, then neither of you would ever get any sleep at all. Going back to the topic of Wukong’s jealousy…

“Not jealous,” he growled.

Back onto the topic of your neglectful behaviour. Fruitie may be cute and whatever, but he was a life force that was little over 10,000 years old! You were probably the first and only woman he’d met in that length of time and however irrational it may sound… he was still a man. Monk or no, a man was still a man, no matter the species or whatever, males-

“Ridiculous,” Wukong shook his head and stood up. You looked at him in question.

“Something wrong, Wukong?” you mused as you looked him over, trying to read him, and it didn't take long for you to realize what was going on with him.

“No, it's nothing,” the stubborn monkey simply huffed and looked away from you… but it was too late.

“Wow,” you snorted a bit. “I should start keeping track of how often events like this occur.”

“What are you talking about?” he looked at you with narrowed eyes, getting suspicious with a smile on your face.

“C'mere, you silly monkey,” you opened your arms for him.

He continued to stare at you with narrowed eyes, but who was he kidding? He shot himself into your arms and held you so tight that the only thing you could process was him being in your personal, squeezing the life out of you. You took a few seconds before you smiled and hugged him loosely, your arms under his as you rubbed his back.

“I don't care if you can't breathe,” he spoke, as if reading your thoughts, which meant he knew he was squeezing your soul out of your body.

“No breath, no girlfriend,” you spoke, only after a few more seconds did he loosen his grip but not let you go. “You gonna tell me what's wrong?”

“Stop talking,”

“You're adorable, my love,” despite you snuggling into his chest, Wukong was still a pouty baby who kept nuzzling his face into your neck. “Wukong.”

“Stop talking,” he growled into your neck and held you a bit tighter.

“Silly monkey,” you pulled his tail, which stunned him and the brief moment that he let go of you, you pulled away enough to see his face. “Awe, look at my pouty baby,” you baby-talked him, which made him glare at you.

He turned away from you with a ‘tch’ and glared in that direction as he folded his arms. You couldn't help but smile, watching as his tail twitched in annoyance and his pout seemed to deepen. You took out a flower that Fruitie put in your hair and reached up to tuck it behind Wukong’s left ear. His eyes widened briefly, and he looked at you from the corner of his eye, expression indifferent.

“How many times must I explain to you that you're my one and only, you silly monkey,” you took his left hand in yours and pulled it to your lips, which he let you do. “Being jealous of a Vital Spirit is kinda funny,” you mused. He growled and snatched his hand back and turned his back to you.

“Awe, c'mon, baby, don't be like that!” without another word, he crouched then jumped onto his cloud and flew off. “Wukong!” you watched as he left you there alone, yet you couldn't help but smile.

Such a cute Monkey King, my precious thing. You mused to yourself with a smile as you turned on your heel to return to the others, giving your lover time to himself.

“Hm,” was all you said.

When Wukong returned to your group, everyone was having dinner. He seemed defeated with his shoulders slouched. He walked over to where you were sitting against a tree eating fish. He took your food and put it beside you before he plopped down in front of you. You looked at him with a raised brow but shook your head.

He removed his upper layers and just sat there. You watched him with folded arms, you knew very well what he wanted, but you weren't gonna cooperate so soon. You watched as he folded his arms, his head held high, and you didn't have to see to know his eyes were probably closed. His tail wrapped around your right leg and his ear twitched impatiently.

How can someone so short-tempered be so cute? You mused to yourself.

“What are you waiting for?” his gruff voice broke you from your thoughts.

“I'm eating,”

“You can eat later,”

“It'll get cold,”

“I'll heat it up on the fire,” he glanced at you over his shoulder.

“But I'm hungry,” you stated in a matter of fact tone.

“You'll eat later,”

“I'm hungry now,”

“(Y/n),”

“Wukong,” you tried to hide the smile. “Okay, fine, you win.”

With a triumphant smirk, he turned back around and you started to stroke his back. combing your fingers through his fur to untangle any knots and smoothen his fur.

“(Y/n)?” Fruitie’s voice got your attention, but you didn't look at him and continued to work.

“Yes?” you answered, not seeing Wukong's frown, but you did notice him tense.

“What are you doing?” he asked in that adorable baby voice that a 10000-year-old being shouldn't have.

“Grooming him,” you answered simply.

“Why?” he tilted his head as he watched you do your thing to ease your Monkey King’s wrath.

“Because it would help keep him from looking unkempt,” You smiled and touched his back and arms to make him feel relaxed.

It also repairs his fragile ego… She wanted to add, but kept to herself.

“Go to sleep, leave (Y/n) alone,” Wukong glanced at Fruitie over his shoulder.

“No,” the vital spirit pouted stubbornly, you got the sense of déjà vu. “I wanna stay up with (Y/n).”

“No, go to sleep,” he ordered, wanting some one-on-one time with you in peace.

“But (Y/n) said that I can stay up with her,” he said as he plopped down on your head.

“Wukong’s right, Fruitie, we have a long day ahead, you should sleep,” you tried to reason as you combed your fingers down Wukong’s back to the base of his tail which made him shiver slightly.

“Are you going to sleep too?” he looked at her, holding her forehead to keep himself from falling.

“Soon,” you nodded and caressed your lover’s shoulders and biceps, unable to pick out any split ends since it was too dark to see them. “Now go to sleep.”

“Fine,”

“Baby…” Wukong mumbled and glanced at you.

“Hm?” you smiled up at him. You watched as he lowered himself to lay his head on your chest.

“Thank you,” he grumbled as you wrapped your arms around him and rested your cheek on his head.

“I love you, you silly monkey. You don't have to be jealous of anyone,” you kissed his head softly. “You're always my number one priority.”

“Okay,” he mumbled as he watched the group as they slept.

Pigsy snoring as Fruitie was laid next to Wujing, who was curled up, and his master was asleep on a blanket. They were all peacefully resting. Wukong looked at you and looked at your lips.

“I love you too,” he turned and sat up before he pulled you onto his lap and hugged you close to his chest.

“Hmmm,” you smiled and hugged his torso before looking up at him.

He leaned down and kissed you softly. You cupped his face and kissed him back as he deepened the kiss.

____________________________

<---Previous | Start | Next--->

#fyp #request #x reader #monkey king #sun wukong #wukong #reborn sun wukong #reborn #monkey king reborn #reborn wukong #monkey king x reader #monkey king reborn x reader #great sage equal to heaven #wukong reborn x reader #wukong x reader

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teecupangel · 2 months ago

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Desmond reborn as this breed of dragon. There are no flaws in this plan. Native to Italy so wouldn’t be out of place in Ezio’s era, naturally Assassin colours, and as far as I know Imperator are upper middleweight/lower heavyweight in size so he’s big and can carry full crew of Assassins/mercenaries. He could help defend Monterriggioni from Borgia invasion & probably save Mario’s life.

There’s not yet a full analysis sheet for this breed of dragon but there are a few more drawings in Atrocitas’ tag that can be used as size comparisons with other dragons, and if you then hop over to Genevieve’s tag (golden-white dragon) you’ll get an accurate picture of Imperator size (Genevieve is compared with her crew & Captain in one drawing)

Additional info from @wynterwulf7

More info on More info on Imperator/Asta di Marte (bc I just remembered that post that explored it a lil bit)

I’m going to assume we’re making a Temeraire x Assassin’s Creed crossover where Desmond is reborn as a dragon of that breed.

Of course, we’re here to make Desmond’s life ‘interesting’ so we’ll set this up where Desmond died in canon and is reborn in Renaissance Italy with the dragon elements of Temeraire.

He wakes up alone in one of the most remote places in Tuscany so he still thinks he’s in a world where dragons don’t exist. This means that he’d spend a few years trying to hide as he grows up.

Of course, just because he’s hiding, doesn’t mean that people won’t know about him. He’s a dragon trying to learn how to be a dragon in a world where dragons exist and is known by the people.

Sooner or later, he gets captured because he was trying to not hurt anyone.

And that’s when he learned that dragons isn’t something that could be considered as an anomaly in this world.

If anything, it was quite ‘common’.

Desmond is still a growing dragon though and he’s been noted as ‘wild that needs training’.

Whatever plan they have is cut off because Desmond learned that it’s December.

Of 1476.

There’s no big entrance during the execution.

Desmond used his large body to crash into the Auditores’ prison and performed a jailbreak with two reluctant men (Petruccio is totally on board though).

From there, it becomes more of a case of House Auditore becoming Firenze’s enemy number one because of said jailbreak.

But hey…

At least they have a large powerful dragon is totally on board with protecting Monteriggioni and helping with the defenses (and counterattacks).

Giovanni is absolutely sus about it the entire thing because Desmond can’t be controlled or even guided. Giovanni tried to get him to take them to Spain but he was adamant on taking all of them to Monteriggioni.

The fact that Mario doesn’t know ‘who’ Desmond is and how he knew of Monteriggioni only served to make Giovanni more suspicious that there’s something more to this entire thing that they’re not seeing.

Something like…

Desmond may be getting orders from someone else who wanted everyone in the Auditore family in Monteriggioni for some reason.

Yeah.

That someone?

Is Desmond himself.

But it’s not like Desmond can try to make them understand him.

He’s too busy trying to get these rowdy dragons that Mario purchased for his mercenaries to stop trying to bite him or groom him or…

Honestly.

Desmond doesn’t know what these dragons want from him.

#assassin's creed #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #desmond miles #giovanni auditore

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cloversnstrawberries · 6 days ago

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I really loved the platonic RE yandere you posted, would you mind writing a continuation of the Wesker part? xoxo

platonic!yandere!albert wesker & S.T.A.R.S!gn!reader [oneshot] ! !

masterlist ! [this is a continuation of this post !]

description; Honestly, why were you here? Why you? Why was it, out of everyone on the now defunct S.T.A.R.S team, you who caught his attention like you had? And why is he acting like this is normal?

additional notes; hello!!! i'm so glad you like it so much!! it was my first time doing multi-HCs, and i think it came out really well all things considered :)) i haven't really gotten the hang of HC format fully though, so i ended up doing a oneshot for this </3

but thank you so much for requesting a continuation!! i was more than happy to do it :)) i also tried a new style(?) of description, but i don't know if i'll stick with it or not </3

warnings; Drugging, hospital/medical setting, Wesker's god complex, mention of the other S.T.A.R.S members and their fates, imprisonment, captivity, general terror and confusion, Reader is very suspicious of Wesker's reasonings (he's not helping it at all), possessiveness, soft(ish) Albert Wesker, and if there's anymore i missed, please let me know!! :D my writing seems to leave my mind the moment i put it down...

w/c; 4.1k

How could it end like this? How could you let this happen?

You're trained. Maybe not as much as your other team members-- but you went through school for this, and you could've sworn you were just getting the hang of it all.

But then again, maybe there was nothing you could've done. Even if you were as experienced as everyone else-- hell, if you had more experience than everyone combined, it'd probably turn out the same regardless.

You trusted him-- they trusted him, just for him to lead them all like lambs to the slaughter;

He spared you, though. Why? What the hell is he up to?

That phone call you'd been eavesdropping on-- at the time, you couldn't make heads or tails of it. But now, oh... now you understand it perfectly.

S.T.A.R.S was never what it claimed to be, but out of everyone, only Wesker was aware of that. Not even Marini, because lord knows if he knew what was actually going on, he wouldn't have had any part in it.

Did any of them survive? Wesker made it sound like there was no chance anyone could've made it out alive. Apparently, he hadn't made it out alive--

He claims to have died, but to have come back better; reborn as something truer than what he had been.

God... how did you not see this coming? Again, you were trained! You... you were supposed to be able to spot these kinds of things. Maybe you'd been too blindly trusting, after all, he was your captain.

If you couldn't trust anyone else, you should've been able to trust him. That's how it's supposed to be. Only for him to turn around and stab you all in the back.

Even if he didn't send you out there. Even if you were the one exception, his companion (whatever that entailed), that couldn't mean much. Not to a man like him, who uses people as stepping stones. Who used your co-workers, your friends, as just rungs in a ladder; as he sought to achieve godhood.

He's different, now. He says he'd died-- and you don't quite doubt that fact. Maybe you should, but his... his eyes. His eyes gave you pause, as you tried to discredit his claim of being revived.

They were like a snakes-- no, a dragons, actually. You don't think snakes can have that sort of coloring naturally, the central heterochromatic yellow around his pupils, and the bright, jarring red the rest of his pupils held.

Sometimes, they almost glowed. The way he moved now wasn't human. Nothing about him was-- but not all of that could be attributed to his strange, unexplainable (from your point of view, at least) metamorphosis.

In theory, he was still so human. He had the same face-- his bone structure hadn't changed, god no. The only physical attribute that tangibly changed had been his eyes, and maybe his teeth and nails being a little sharper.

But something about him was monstrous, beyond those traits. Maybe it was the knowledge of what he'd done, or the fear spawned out of uncertainty. Uncertainty of what he has planned for you, that makes him seem so otherworldly beyond the obvious.

Why you? Why, out of everyone, did he spare you? It couldn't have anything to do with your age-- he'd mentioned no sort of exception made for Rebecca, who was only 18. Safe to say, he didn't have any qualms about leading a literal teenager to her untimely death,

And maybe you could argue that it was his higherups-- or whoever that Birkin he was seemingly talking to on the phone-- that forced his hand and made him 'euthanize' S.T.A.R.S.

He talked about them like they were animals, and not people with hopes, dreams-- families. Reasons to live outside of their jobs, reasons they were important.

Like they were lab rats, he'd indirectly referred to them as much during the phone call. So what did that make you?

When you were young, you had a neighbor who owned a snake. You don't remember what kind exactly, but it was a very sweet little thing. You wouldn't think a snake could be cuddly until you met that little sucker-- but in the end, it was still a snake.

It still needed to eat; most of the time, your neighbor would feed it frozen mice. But the snake would get bored, and if it got too bored then it'd refuse to eat until something caught it's fancy;

And in those cases, your neighbor would get live feeder mice. One of them, the runt of the litter-- had tugged on his heartstrings, one that seemed more intent on snuggling into his head more than trying to flee.

He kept it, and named it Sunflower. Sunny for short; and kept that little feeder mouse around as long as it could last-- and it even went past the expected age for a domesticated mouse. Much less a runt feeder.

Is that what you are? A feeder mouse that somehow managed to squeeze your way into whatever was left of Wesker's heart, one that snuggled up so sweetly-- that he couldn't help but to keep you, while he threw the rest of your brethren into the hungry snake’s enclosure.

Dinner and a show, your neighbor had dubbed it to try and make it seem less gruesome. If anything, it made the action worse in your little mind-- to add such an unassuming title to the practice.

You just can't wrap your head around it, how Wesker could give up so many people-- people he knew personally, that he'd actively sought out for their positions,

But that he seemed to draw the line when it came to you. That for some reason, he decided he wanted to keep you.

He visits you often, but not too much. You have no way of telling the time or date, or even an approximate of how long you've been here. You're set up in this strange sort of... half hospital room, half normal bedroom. It sort of looked like your bedroom back home-- your childhood one, but not to the point were you'd assume Wesker broke in and took a look around.

No, it just... looks like a normal bedroom, not necessarily childish, but not necessarily full adult. There was a dresser, a desk, nightstand, and a clothes rack-- an empty one, sure, but it was still there regardless.

That didn't make much sense to you, considering there seems to be a closet right next to the empty rack; but if you've learned one thing, it's hat you have no hope of trying to figure out why Wesker does the things he does.

And then, there was the bed. It was your average, run-of-the-mill hospital bed, complete with the ability to adjust the incline, bars at the side, and places for medical equipment to be threaded through or attached in some manner.

There was a stool next to your bed, and a metal rolling cart that Wesker usually pushed just out of your reach when he wasn't actively in the room. Like he was taunting you-- he probably was, actually. Just another thing to rub your own helplessness in your face.

Honestly, you wish you could explore the room. It wasn't large, but it wasn't small; you'd probably find very little, sure, but it'd still be something.

Instead, you were handcuffed to the metal bar of the hospital bed. As if you were a particularly high-risk patient, and not a completely healthy person that Wesker fucking kidnapped and hooked up to an IV, pumping god-knows-what in your system.

It didn't make you out of it, but you weren't exactly fully aware right now. Not physically, anyways-- you could hardly muster enough energy to turn onto your side, so safe to say that's the intention of whatever fluid is the IV bag hanging by your bedside.

And while it didn't necessarily make you out of it-- you could still think perfectly fine--, it did dull your senses a little bit. Made you more susceptible to being snuck up on,

"Good morning, dear heart." Honestly, it surprised you that you had enough energy to jolt a Wesker's sudden appearance-- you swung your head around so fast that your vision went bleary for a few seconds, before inexplicably clearing up.

"Is it really morning, or is it just another one of your lies?" This had become a routine of yours-- questioning every little thing he said. Everything he does, everything he says, could be (and most likely was) in an attempt to trip you up further.

Wesker has yet to be annoyed by this, and that worries you. It worries how... kind he's appearing to be. Yes, he's still stern, and grabs you a little too roughly when you try to resist whatever medication or food he's trying to give you--

But that's nothing compared to hell he put the rest of S.T.A.R.S through, from what you could piece together from little context clues here and there-- and the tiny tidbits of information he seems to let slip on accident.

He sat on the stool next to your bed, letting out a breathy laugh "Do you really think I'd lie about something soinconsequential?" You deadpanned, and immediately shot back with a monotone "Yes."

Again, he laughed. He always did this-- always had some sort of fondness held in his eyes, a softness to his smile that you didn't think he was capable of, especially now. He's acting as if this just another day, as if this is normal.

Like this is life or death for you, like you aren't in the den of a viper-- acting like a caring, nurturing figure to its prey. You know better, though. You know better than to believe it, that he won't turn around and eat you whole once you've served whatever hidden purpose he has for you.

"Well," He began, as he leaned over and pulled that metal rolling cart by his side. As he busied himself with preparing the blood pressure cuff (god knows why he's so insistent on doing this every visit-- like you were actually sick and in need of his care, and not like he was actively pumping drugs in your system to make you sluggish and lethargic for his own gain), he continued his thought.

"Despite what you seem to think, I don't particularly enjoy lying. Especially not to you, dear heart." You had half a mind to jerk your arm away when he reached out, but you knew from previous experience he just wouldn't care. He'd just grab you regardless-- be a little rougher with it. It didn't accomplish anything, fighting him like this.

...But it was the only conceivable way you could fight back right now, and that infuriates you. You like to think that, if you weren't cuffed to the bed with an IV stuck in your arm, you'd be able to take him down.

As if he took those precautions to protect himself from you, and not to protect you from yourself-- or keep you from trying to make a break for it the first chance you get. He knew you were clever, he'd said as much himself.

Oddly enough, Wesker had this strange habit of always complimenting you; usually, it was in relation to himself-- saying you were smart, but too kind for your own good. That your relation to him blinded you, made you overlook any and all red flags until it was too late to do anything about it.

But sometimes, he'd just... compliment you. No apparent backhandedness about it. Sometimes, he reminded you of a proud dad, welcoming home his kid after they got all A's in school.

It was disturbing, to say the very least.

After a few moments, you finally respond with a curt "Whatever helps you sleep at night.", Because you don't believe him for even a second. You wish you could yell at him, that you could berate him over everything he's done-- but with the drugs making you less articulate than before, and the fact that he could just kill you right then and there-- or at least cause you grievous bodily harm--, you decide against that.

For a moment, you could've sworn you saw genuine emotion cross his face-- but it was gone so fast, that you seriously question if your brain just made it up. That even after all he's done, your brain still tries to grasp at straws that he cares for you. That he cares for you as a person, and not what you can do for him.

...Whatever that might be, which has yet to be seen by anything but Wesker himself.

Wesker took a deep breath, a habit you used to think fondly of; because it meant he was actively putting an effort into not snapping at something, and he was downright terrifying when he got angry-- or even just irritated.

Now, it just makes your body tense. Back straight, muscles wound up-- like a hare ready to bolt. He seems to realize this, but doesn't seem to process what caused it. Instead of moving back, because it was so obviously him that was bringing out this primal sort of fear in you--

He just leaned closer. Thankfully, he didn't reach out to touch you or anything-- but he was still closer.

...Then you realize he was just opening a new bottle of disinfectant-- obviously, you hadn't gone down without a fight, no matter how futile it was. Maybe this was your brain trying to humanize the monster before you-- but if you didn't know any better, you'd say he felt guilty for causing your injuries.

Even if they weren't that serious; he treated them like they were the end of the world, when you knew you've sustained much worse from much less then a god-like being trying to capture you.

Hell, one time you got a concussion from falling off a spinning chair in high-school! (admittedly, that was not your best idea-- but it got the job done! you'd fixed the loose ceiling tile that'd been bugging for three weeks straight!) You'll be fine--!

But for some Godforsaken reason, Wesker seems to think your more fragile than a porcelain doll; and a not trained S.T.A.R.S operative (though, you weren't very experienced, that didn't negate the fact that you had the formal training, and passed all the tests).

For now, you let him play doctor. You tried your best to suppress a hard flinch when he leaned forward, and started tending to the cuts and scrapes littering your face and arms-- for some reason, he thought it'd been a good idea to toss you through a fucking window--

...Albeit, the window had been in the first floor lobby of your mediocre apartment-- and it did very well to slow you down from escaping, but still. Why would he do that? You were lucky to get away with what little injuries you had from the action--

Sometimes, a scary, downright existentsial fear inducing thought crossed you mind. That maybe, just maybe he genuinely hadn't meant to do that. He just didn't know his own strength-- didn't know how easy it was to toss your around like a ragdoll, now that he was... whatever he was now.

You didn't realize how quiet it'd gotten, only the faint whir of the medical equipment and occasional sound of shifting clothes or something being picked up-- until Wesker spoke again, startling you out of your downward spiral of thought.

"Is there anything you'd like?" That was... unexpected. Very out of the blue-- and at first, you thought it had to be some kind of test. Like he was trying to trick you.

Cautiously, you needled him for further explanation with a simple, straight-to-the-point "...What?"

Very well-spoken, you were-- but who could blame you, with whatever cocktail of sedatives and (entirely unnecessary, in your opinion) painkillers working through your system right now?

A faint, almost soft, smile graced his face-- as he, unhelpfully, just repeated what he'd said before. "Is there anything you'd like, dearheart?"

Your brows furrowed, as you searched his face for any clue on what the actual hell he was getting at.

Surprisingly, he let you think it through. Didn't rush you, and didn't seem to be getting impatient. You, however, did not want to push that limit, and ultimately just gave and asked "What do you mean? Like... meds?"

Predictably, Wesker laughed-- unpredictably, at least from your point of view, he leaned forward and fucking-- ruffled your hair?

Seriously, did his supposed death and rebirth cross some wires or what? What was going on??

"No, but I don't fault you for thinking that." You grimaced, his hand staying firmly on your head for a few more seconds, before he pulled back-- and you thanked whatever was out there for finally helping you out here, but that thankfulness was quickly dashed when he grabbed a hold of your hand.

It reminded you of when you caught pneumonia as a child, probably around 5 or 6. Your mom sat by your side the whole time, holding your hand just as Wesker was right now.

You wanted so badly to smack it away and yell at him, demand that he leave you alone and just stop acting like he cared--!

"Anything at all, a favorite food, a book, something to keep you busy,"

You should know better then to interrupt him, but you can't help it. It was a stupid idea, the whole thing-- but you had to try. That's all you can do right now, is try whatever you can--

"I want to be let go." Immediately, there was a very... noticeable shift in the energy of the room. No longer was it a tentative calm,

Now it was so stifling that it felt hard to breathe, as Wesker stared-- you're pretty sure, again, his eyes are covered as always-- you down, making you squirm.

His hold on your hand tightened, and you swore you could feel the bones in it creak and shift under the pressure of it.

Right before you were sure your hand would simply cave-- just give in under the pressure, Wesker loosened his grip.

Just enough where you were not longer worried about the immediate shattering of your bones-- it still wasn't comfortable, physically and emotionally speaking.

"There's nothing out there for you, dearheart." The strange sort of monotone aspect of his voice should've tipped you off, should've had the alarm bells in your head ringing louder than an emergency siren-- screaming at you to don't you dare try to push it! don't be dumb!

Evidently, you weren't paying any attention to that. It was like sleeping soundly through a tornado warning--

But hey, might as well start calling your Dorothy, huh?

"I don't care." Foolishly, you tried to pull your hand from his. Obviously, he didn't budge-- but it was a good sign that he didn't tighten his grip any further.

...Mostly because it would absolutely cause some serious damage if he did, and you're sure he was well aware of that fact.

"I don't want to be here anymore. I had a life outside of S.T.A.R.S, outside of you, and you can't just keep me in this room forever--!"

You don't think you've ever seen him so angry before. It caught you completely off guard, how open the emotion on his face was. How tensely he held himself,

"I wasn't planning on doing so! I'd let you roam once you're better, and I know you won't try anything stupid." There was... so much unbridled rage in his tone, that you felt like your heart might give out right then and there.

He'd never raised his voice at you before.

But you were too far in-- this was your chance, with him so worked up; you might be able to get some real answers out of him now.

"Why are you doing this?!" You sat up, trying in vain to yank your hand from his grip again-- surprisingly, he let you do so. But as you came to realize, it wasn't because of your efforts;

He stood, turning his back to you and headed over to the closet-- that was... unprecedented. You didn't know what was in there, and it only made you panic further.

Grasping at straws now, you tried to poke at his supposed admiration of you-- rushing out a quick "What's so special about me, huh? That you go through-- through all of--"

You didn't fault yourself for stumbling over the words, you were still drugged, and it was impressive as hell that you were able to be this coherent as it was.

That, to give credit where credit is due, got his attention. He was halfway through opening the closet-- and for a second there, when he stopped moving for just a second, you really thought he was going to answer you.

Shame on you, for thinking any part of this hellish experience would work in your favor-- because after that momentary pause, he went along his merry way without another hiccup.

Your heart was going a mile a minute, and you leaned over the side of the bed and strained your neck, trying to get a view inside the closet and--

Huh.

Despite your previous assumption, it wasn't so much a closet for clothes, as it was a... supply closet. Like ones you'd usually find in hallways, filled with cleaning supplies and miscellaneous home goods that didn't have anywhere else to go.

But instead of some strongly lemon scented spray cleaner and a dustpan-- there was some more medical supplies. Name bloodwork things, syringes, vials of god knows what;

And Wesker sure as hell wasn't reaching for the bloodwork stuff.

"Please, just-- just answer me!" Desperate saturated your tone, and you begged for a straight answer-- this was all so confusing. Why? Seriously, why you, why now-- why like this?

You couldn't see what he doing for a while, but when he turned, you realized the syringe was filled with something. While it didn't look particularly suspicious-- just a clear liquid in a run-of-the-mill syringe, you knew that not everything was as it seems.

In a last ditch effort of escaping whatever it was Wesker had planned, you threw the white hospital blanket off your legs and stood; you were cuffed, you knew very well you couldn't do jackshit--

But you weren't thinking very clearly, obviously.

To his credit, Wesker didn't really reprimand you for standing. Usually, he'd get a little 'worried' (thinly veiled annoyance, in your opinion) and get you to lay back down,

This time, he just grabbed you. Didn't try and get you back on the bed-- you struggled, God knows you struggled best you could;

In the end, it all amounted to nothing. Like you knew it would.

And yet, you still tried to fight the inevitable.

You felt a sharp pinch in your upper arm-- you looked down to realize he'd managed to inject you with whatever it was.

It took a few moments to register what had happened, and by then it was already taking effect. You stumbled, and managed to slur out a barely discernable "Wha.. was tha-at..."

"Just a sedative, no need to be worried." You wished you were in any condition to give him a glare that'd send any normal person running for the hills-- not that it'd do much beside amuse him, but it's the thought that counts in this situations--, but alas, you really weren't.

You weren't in any condition to give a coherent response either, or fight as he helped you back on the bed and placed the blanket back over your legs and torso, tucking you in like you would with a small child.

"And to answer your first question," Your mind had slowed down exponentially-- rendering you almost entirely unaware to the world around you,

But something about his words, even if you couldn't make sense or make any connections at the time, cut through that fog just enough where you vaguely processed it.

Wesker leaned down, giving you a little kiss on the forehead-- like a parent wishing their beloved child a good nights sleep, before he finally answered.

"It's because you're mine, dearheart. There's no deeper meaning, I simply wanted you safe and by my side. Like you always should've been."

At that point, you were mere seconds from passing the hell out-- the last thing you really registered was this smug sort of smile, like he knew you wouldn't remember a majority of that exchange come morning (or whenever you woke up).

#yandere albert wesker #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere resident evil #resident evil #platonic yandere x reader #yandere albert wesker x reader #platonic yandere albert wesker #gn!reader #requests open #yandere resident evil x reader #reqs open #my writing

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newkatzkafe2023 · 6 months ago

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Fem Humanoid King Kong Y/N Part 2?

Wukongs Brothers. Sisters, friends, and enemies meet King Kong Y/N?

Lol how would they react to this strong, giant, female King Kong, AKA Queen of The Apes

Like Wukong just brings his brothers, sisters, friends, and enemies to an island and their waiting for her, when a GIANT TALL ASS KONG appears and they are all freaking out except for Wukong who just yells out "WIFEEEEEEEE 😍🥰" and just transforms into a the same size as her and hugs her. Everyone is happy for him or is traumatised. (Tho I can see the adoptive children of the Wukongs like her).

Thanks!~ ❤️

(LMK Wukong) He was pulling Mk and the gang to an island 🏝 place. He was so excited that he's actively chirping in joy. MK, Macaque and the others were confused and suspicious of him.

Mk: Umm Monkey king where are we going??

Wukong: we going to skull island 🏝😊

The others were confused and slightly scared

Tang: Um why???

Wukong: well duh to meet my wife

Everybody jaws dropped hearing the news. Wukong was married and he never heard shared the news with them. Then again he has many other secrets but this one, is something they didn't expect him to hide.

Just like how they didn't expect his wife to be a giant gorilla and for her to be THE LEGENDARY QUEEN KONG!!!!!!🤩🤩🤩🤩

Mk and Mei were Fangirling and Fanboying all over the place, Redson looked pale as he called his parents Wondering if they knew about this, Tang was speechless, Sandy waved a you as a greeting, and Macaque....Uh he looks like died all over to again.

Pigsy: (Sigh) Why does this make so much sense???😒😤🤦‍♂️

(Mk Reborn Wukong) The monk was curious about where he sneaks off to when he's on his free time. Sandy was to scared to ask and Pigsy thought it was something shady. So he went to quietly follow Wukong and Fruity one day and what he found shocked the hell put of him.

Pigsy: Master I found what the monkey was hiding!!!!😱

Master Tang: Oh and what is it🤨

Pigsy: um well you It might wanna come and see for yourself.Because you're not gonna believe me if I told you😧

The monk was confused but not deterred, because the next day the pilgrims secretly followed Wukong and Fruity. To their usual spot and behold Wukong had wondered back to the same giant gorilla women that saved them a year ago and the most shocking part.

Wukong showering you with affection and care while fruity flew around your head calling you mama.

So the monk fainted, sandy was pale as snow, and pigsy bit into a tree branch seething in jealousy😵😱🤬

(NR Wukong) Li and Su were at a standstill as they looked at a Tall giant gorilla that sat behind Wukong.

Wukong: Li, Su I want you to meet my wifey (Y/n L/N) or well Yn Ln Wukong now🥰

Li's jaw dropped as his brains were buffering trying to wrap his head around the whole situation. While Su was dumbfounded by who she saw.😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵😵😵

Su: Wukong....... YOUR MARRIED TO QUEEN KONG??!?!?!?!?😲😲😲😱😱😱

Wukong nodded as he cuddled into your giant arm. Meanwhile your wondering why Wukong didn't tell you that he had grown children🤔

(HIB Wukong) The kids immediately loved you already, in fact silly girl was dying to see you again and loves you so much. Wukong was blushing harshly when Silly girl would cry mama for hours because she missed you awfully. Luier loves you too, you seem to be more patient with him and would listen to him talk endlessly as Silly girl would climb on your back like she did the first time. Yes Wukong didn't need to be worried about the kids because they love you as much as you love them. Meanwhile pigsy was scared sh*tless because you snared at him for flirting with you to much.

(Netflix Wukong) Lin and Dragon king were pulled to skull island by Wukong as a surprise was waiting for them.

Lin: Seriously where are we going??

Dragon king: Yeah what are you trying to show us??

Wukong: Lin, dragon king I want you guys to meet my wife.

Both: wait what???

So Wukong chirps into the forest and waits. Then suddenly, the ground shook as you made your way to your husband. Lin and Dragon King soon saw a giant female gorilla. Wukong got excited and grew into his kaiju form and hugged you tightly. The second Dragon king saw who it was he fainted.

Dragon king:(scared) Queen......Kong😰😨😱😵

Meanwhile Lin sat on your hand as she looked at you in Astonishment.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG 🦍

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #x female y/n #king kong #married life #couple goals #first time meeting

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thesunloveschips · 1 year ago

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Eye of the Storm - Chapter 2: Mortals and Immortals

Summary: In the wake of Rhysand’s ascension as High Lord, the Bone Carver gifts a prophecy. More than five hundred years later, Azriel continues to wait for the one who is finally reborn as his High Lady’s sister. All it takes is a dip in the Cauldron for things to start falling into place.

Chapter Summary: Feyre returns to her sisters from the Spring Court with too many feelings. Rhys fights a losing battle with his family after returning. Feyre and Rhys navigate their emotions when the Archeron sisters become the topic of conversation.

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

****

Feyre felt like she was dying as she reached the new residence of the Archerons. A bit of her life leaving her body with every foggy breath. Tamlin had kept his word and provided for her family. A bit too lavishly, perhaps. The residence was a sprawling estate with lush lawns and well-maintained flowers Elain had undoubtedly involved herself in. Feyre had no sense of anything except for the flowers which reminded her of the Spring Court. Of Tamlin.

With Feyre now back, Nesta wanted answers. She had clearly seen the beast take her youngest sister away, citing some Treaty and something else that made no sense to her. Nyra would want answers too. Whatever stunt that the fae had pulled, whatever magic they had cast which resulted in Elain and their father having new memories of a non-existant aunt, Nesta needed answers about all of it.

Feyre was quick to flow away with her thoughts ever since she had returned. Elain was simply happy that her sister was back, safe and sound and was listening to her about her plans for the new flowers she had recently planted. Nesta was suspicious but she did not push much after Nyra's insistence.

The only time Feyre gave anyone her attention to the maximum was when the physician came for Nyra and recorded a very slow but thankfully steady improvement in her health. One thing wrong and the heavily-bellied man claimed it would threaten Nyra's life.

"Let her tell us herself." Nyra had said when Nesta's curiosity grew. "What if it is something she wishes not to recall?"

"Whatever it is, it has affected her. She hardly pays any attention during conversations and mindlessly agrees with everything asked of her. That ghastly shade of yellow does not suit her and yet, she agreed to it before the seamstress without so much as a glance at the fabric." Nesta did not like it when someone wore the wrong shade. It was something their mother had insisted and something she cared for since it was one of the few useful things the deceased woman had actually bothered to teach her.

"How long do we wait before we ask?" Nesta once asked Nyra and when her twin did not have an answer, the interrogative mood of the former awakened. She found Feyre and confronted her and that led to a long story.

Nesta and Nyra looked at Feyre when the youngest had concluded her story and then looked at each other. To be in love with a fae much less a High Lord was unthinkable. Even then, they knew that this sister was a reckless girl.

"And now what? You are here and not there. What is your fate?" Nyra asked. Feyre took her time comprehending the question but had no answer for it even after understanding it. It seemed to her that there were multiple gaps in her understanding. So many things had been hidden from her in Prythian. They had called Amarantha's curse a bloody blight.

The twins knew that Feyre probably did not belong in this world of mortals and maybe, she did belong in Prythian. Every word spoken about this fae named Tamlin was laced with a sort of affection they had never witnessed for any human.

A part of them hoped that Feyre would live with them in the safety and comfort of this estate. That she would lead a normal, mortal life. Another part of them knew that the connection between Feyre and Prythian had yet to be severed. And in pursuance of that connection which she believed was her love for Tamlin, a few days later, Feyre Archeron departed from the mortal lands with a final goodbye.

****

Amarantha was dead. Rhysand was back. A few days had passed and Azriel had noticed that something was still not right. Something other than the trauma from those forty nine years had been inflicted on his brother. Something that was probably his mate, the newborn fae. He wasn’t exactly discreet about it when he told Mor right after he returned. For the first few seconds, Azriel had hoped to all the spirits that Rhysand was not referring to Amarantha as his mate. But then, Mor had managed to somehow calm her cousin. And then, Rhys told them his story.

Azriel took it upon himself to study humans and fae and trace back records of any transitions as had been the case with the Cursebreaker. He had enlisted the help of the priestesses from the libraries of the House of Wind. Everything was hectic these days. Hunting down the traitors who had joined forces to rebel in the High Lord’s absence. Reviving his network of spies after decades of inactivity. Resuming trade and commerce and travel between courts and with the rest of the world. All of this was just the beginning. He was tired. Everyone was tired. And yet, everyone continued.

The Cursebreaker, he’d learned, was a female by the name of Feyre Archeron. A human who received a kernel of every High Lord’s power to be brought back to life. That itself brought the possibility of her inheriting powers. If she had indeed been successfully revived, then she could probably have a fragment at least.

“She rarely leaves the manor.” Azriel spoke. Cassian looked at him in confusion while Rhys barely looked up from the disturbing amount of paperwork. “Unhealthy and haunted by nightmares.”

Rhysand slammed the pen on the table. That was meant to be a warning but Azriel could care less. Rhys glared at him as though he was ready to rip him apart. “Call in your bargain. Tamlin is making things worse for her.”

To Azriel, this female, his brother’s mate had already become someone to be cared for. On the verge of becoming family. In his eyes, Rhys had to take her from her misery. And he had to push his brother to do that. What would life be worth if not for a mate? He was already waiting for the Bone Carver’s words to come true.

Cassian did not want to say much. He quietly watched as his brothers glare at each other. He knew why this conversation was taking place. He knew why Azriel was pushing Rhys to be there for Feyre. Because they would have done the same thing in case of Azriel and his mate. The mate who was Rhysand’s deceased sister. The mate who would be reborn.

“I will bring her when I deem fit.” Anyone could see how heartbroken Rhys was when he said those words. The beast within him raged at him to stake his claim over his mate. The more rational side of him preached respect. Something his mother had taught him.

“By the time you deem fit, what if it’s too late?” Azriel was quick to ask. The High Lord’s power rumbled before them and they weathered it like any other rainstorm.

“She’s surrounded by the rogue Vanserra and that mannerless priestess who once requested a visit.” The mention of the priestess was made with his own power rumbling. A shadowsinger was a truly mysterious creature. Cassian looked at Azriel in disgust at having even mentioned that female.

“And a High Lord who has no interest helping her settle into this new life.” Cassian spoke. Rhys met the General’s gaze. “This is not just any female, Rhys.”

“She’s the saviour of Prythian. I know.”

“She’s your mate.” Cassian emphasized on that word. “Anyone could have been the saviour of these damned lands. Only she can be your mate. She is family, you stupid piece of shit.”

In that moment, Rhys remembered what he felt back when Feyre had defeated the Wyrm. How he felt Cassian’s spirit manifesting nearby and shouting at him to marry this girl or he would do that himself. He let out a wry laugh. Azriel and Cassian looked at each other, wondering whether their brother had gone mad.

Rhysand stood up and started pacing behind his chair. He stopped and resumed pacing every now and then. “We knew about Azriel and my sister.” He knew he had to tread very very carefully with this. He might be the High Lord but the shadowsinger was not to be trifled with in any manner. He saw how Azriel had stoned his features at the mention of his mate. “So I assumed that we would witness your mating bond first when she was reborn.”

“It could be another century or even a millennia before we meet her again.” Cassian remarked, remembering the Bone Carver’s words.

“You should focus on your own mating bond right now.” Azriel added, not wanting to remember his mixed feelings for his mate.

“I know she’s upset and she has nightmares and she vomits all the food and that ignorant asshole does nothing to help her.” Rhysand took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure and failing miserably. The opening of the door had the three males looking in that direction. Morrigan walked in, ever the picture of power and beauty.

“What are we talking about?” Mor casually sat on the sofa, her legs on the seat with the silk of her dress dropping to the ground like a wisp of magic.

“The Cursebreaker.” Rhys answered. He would call her anything but his mate.

“Your mate.” Mor corrected. Cassian grinned at her and even Azriel breathed in relief at the growing support. “You made a bargain with her. Why haven’t you called it in?”

“None of your business.”

“She is family.” Mor spoke sharply and and her rage began quickly. She had recognised how her cousin was beginning to be somewhat of a stubborn child but this was not a matter which could be addressed with such immaturity. “And her health is our business.”

“You may identify her as family but I have no intention of claiming her.” Rhysand looked like he would vomit at his own words soon enough.

But the High Lord knew what his family felt for Feyre Archeron. They were undoubtedly grateful to her for reuniting them after forty nine years. They were grateful to her for saving Prythian because Cauldron knew how long they could have kept the Night Court afloat in his absence. And they did not even want to delve too long about other courts.

The mortal who was now fae.

The female who was his mate.

The female Rhysand was now in love with.

“You love her.” And that was the truth. Simple and clear. Azriel and Cassian looked at her in mild surprise. They hadn’t known that. And now that they did know that, Feyre Archeron was indeed a person of great concern. “We know you won’t claim her like she is property. She is not family not just because she is your mate. She is family because you love her.”

“Mating bonds are not fairytales. Couples don’t end well. You knew my parents.” Rhysand was not strong enough for this. He could not win this. Not when this was about Feyre. Sweet, beautiful Feyre with her human heart and powerful feelings.

“Your parents had a miserable union. The difference is that you love this girl. And we also have Azriel who waits for her.” Azriel closed his eyes, knowing that Mor would now continue this battle. That she would wield more powerful words for attack. The mention of his own mate was one of those weapons. Mor had just looked at the Spymaster once before he confirmed with a nod that it was okay to speak of his mate. “Your mating bond does not have to reflect what your parents had.”

“That’s it!” Cassian slammed his hands on the table. “You!” He looked at Rhys, eyes focused into a glare before continuing, “are a fool.” Rhys opened his mouth to speak. “Everything you’ve spouted so far has been an excuse.”

“She’s marrying him.” Rhys sounded pained as opposed to the indifference he tried to put forward.

“Just because she’s marrying him doesn’t mean he’s worthy of her.” Azriel was grumbling at this point. None of them cared about Rhysand’s self loathing opinions. They cared about the girl who had no one to help her when she needed it. The girl who was his mate. The girl who was almost family. She was not a cruel person. She was the reason Rhysand was back after so long. And they had a feeling that she’d be good for him and that he’d be good for her. Azriel had suspected as much after his spies from the Spring Court had been planted and resumed activity.

Two days later, Rhys had scheduled a trip to Rita’s with Cassian only to winnow away without prior notice right before they had entered. The same night, Feyre Archeron had been brought to Velaris.

****

It took time before the Cursebreaker had started to warm up to the Inner Circle of the Night Court. One fine night as they lounge around after dinner for a night to drink, Feyre took a few sips.

In her curiosity, Morrigan asked. “How was life as a mortal?”

Feyre looked at Mor for a few seconds, trying to process the question. When she did, she opened her mouth and paused. She began by talking about her early childhood, the days of poverty and how her family was now rich. She had kept her story short, giving nothing more than a summary of her mortal life which couldn't have been more than a paragraph.

“So, you have sisters?” Cassian asked, curious about the people she shared her mortal life with.

“Three older sisters.” Feyre affirmed as she stared at her wineglass. The faint imprint of her lipgloss was there at the edge and she kept staring at it. She took a moment to remember each sister and smiled with such gentleness that made Rhysand a little jealous.

A little.

Just a little.

Not even noteworthy.

Very negligibly so.

An inconsequential bit of jealousy for a smile that was not directed at him.

Mor took extreme delight in seeing her cousin's face. She quietly motioned to Cassian. Azriel and Amren had already noted the change in Rhys's expression.

“And what were they doing when you went out to hunt?” Mor's question brought everyone back to the harsh reality that Feyre went out to hunt for her starving family as a child.

Feyre did not answer. She did not look at anyone. She kept her gaze at the rim of her wine glass where the stain of her lipgloss was from when she’d taken sips of the drink.

“Nesta was angry at a lot of things. Mostly at our father. And then, at me. We were always at each other’s throats. Elain is more of a gardener than a huntress. Nyra has been sick since we were children.” Everything was begining to sound like a poor defence for her sisters.

Mor had sobered up. Cassian and Azriel were quiet. Mostly because they knew that any wrong move or word from any of them and Rhys would rage. His mate had led a life of poverty and had thrown herself into the forest to hunt and free her family from starvation. Her family, incapable in different ways to help her. The youngest who had risked her life over and over again for them.

Rhysand was close to breaking his wine glass. One of those sisters was a gardener more than a huntress. A gardener than a huntress. What about Feyre? She was an artist more than a huntress. And had anger not consumed the other sister enough to do something about their situation? And a sick sister who could do nothing. A burden. All of them were burdens on Feyre. Why save a family like that?

Family was not always blood bound. He knew that. Rhys looked at Azriel, the prime example of someone who had family because he had chosen them and not because he was related to them. Azriel met his gaze, silently questioning him. Rhys shook his head despite the suddenly growing brotherly affection for the shadowsinger.

“Why save a family like that?” Amren finally asked, having spoken for the first time since dinner. Rhys turned to her in mild surprise for having voiced his thoughts.

“Because they are my family. My father who had lost all hope. Elain, who sees good in this world no matter how many ugly sides of it has been presented to her. Nesta, who kept me angry and made me want to fight against circumstances. Nyra, who guarded my heart against all odds.”

A traitorous tear traveled down her cheek. Feyre closed her eyes as another tear made its appearance. At the end of the day, she missed her family. And the Inner Circle could relate to that. They had missed each other for so long and they had just reunited only to be faced with the prospect of war which could ensure permanent separation in the form of death.

“Do you wish to visit your family?” Rhys finally asked. Everyone looked at him in mild surprise for various reasons. At the sight of her tears, the High Lord had softened. The cold fury within him had thawed and nothing but affection and the will to do something to make her happy remained. He took in each of their expressions before explaining himself. “You’re an immortal now, Feyre darling. Time moves slowly for us especially when compared to mortals. They are still human. Surely you must know what that means.”

It only meant that Feyre would live with this young and strong body while her family grew older and weaker and finally died. And Nyra. Mother knew if she would ever live a normal life. Whether her health would improve.

What if something did go wrong?

What if she could never see her again?

What if Nyra...

****

#a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acotar #acowar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel x original character #feyre archeron #elain archeron #nesta archeron #cassian #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel #feysand #nessian

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ineffableigh · 5 months ago

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So, Kashi. Who is he?

Kashi and his strange green lantern, which stands out in a set of overwhelming red and orange.

Huh. Wait.

Crystal's ancestors have a lantern too. The color varies by shot but in many it is distinctly... greenish, in a set of purples and golds.

Tragic Mick and his many lanterns of a very similar colour.

MUCH of the lighting in the Cat King's domain follows this color palette, even in adjacent lights that otherwise have no reason to be different.

I honestly wonder about Asha - she has this lantern going in her shop in broad daylight, in the same shot as what has to be the Evil Seagull™ rofl. Not the right color though.

The Aurora Borealis over wherever Niko is at the very end of the series.

Anyway, color and light is important in the show and we got a lot of Suspicious Lanterns: I think we're dealing with spirit guides in some way or form. Which might sound silly/obvious, and I'll have to do a deep dive into the timeline now that we Know that Niko is The Principal, but.

Mick gave Niko a polar bear figurine as a 'good luck charm'. His story of Sedna is based in Inuit traditions and mythologies, so I got to wondering what kind of polar bear related mythologies there might be, and came across Nanook.

This is based on very short research via DuckDuckGo search so take this with several grains of salt but

ALLEGEDLY

"The souls of hunted bears returning to [Nanook], potentially to be reborn or serve as spirit guides."

So. Crystal has her ancestors, Niko seems to have Mick before becoming a spirit guide of sorts herself after her death, so whose spirit guide is Kashi?

The eternally hyper positive upbeat Kashi?

Hm. I wonder.

#dbda #dead boy detectives #crystal palace #niko sasaki #the night nurse #the principal #tragic mick #kashi of the sea #charles rowland

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nocreativityfornames · 10 months ago

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Everything we know about Diavolo so far, lore wise.

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ALL SEASONS

➤ He's the prince and future king of the Devildom, and the founder of RAD — the Royal Academy of Diavolo — taking the position of Student Council President. (swd: 1-1)

➤ He created the exchange program as a first step towards his goal of strengthening the relationships between the three realms and forming an allyship between angels, demons and humans. (swd: 1-1)

➤ He has the ability to discern the truth from the lie. (swd: 4-1)

➤ He was the one to step in and save MC from being attacked by Lucifer in the underground tomb. (swd: 6-6)

➤ He hasn't seen his father in several centuries now and only knows that the Demon King is somewhere in the bottom of the Devildom. (swd: 7-10)

➤ Unlike Lucifer, he saw MC's pacts with the brothers as a good thing from the very beginning. To him, MC's pacts were proof that demons and humans could put aside their differences and actually form bonds together. And that made him happy, considering it was all he wanted with the exchange program. (swd: 8-19)

➤ Before, citizens of the Devildom were allowed to travel to the Human World whenever they wished through passages spread through the kingdom, but Diavolo changed that after taking over the throne. Now, those passages are blocked and the only way demons can use them is by getting permission from Diavolo, Lucifer, or Barbatos - the only demons apart from his father who are allowed to use them freely. (swd: 11-4)

➤ He ordered Barbatos to imprison Belphegor in the castle and put Lucifer under house arrest for hiding the youngest from him even though he had planned treason. But later, he admitted to having known about it beforehand. "...Truth be told, I knew. I knew you were hiding Belphegor, and I knew why. Your loyalty to me forced you to deceive your brothers, and I knew that was a source of guilt. I saw how you struggled with it-how hard it was being pulled in two directions at once. And it made me sad.” (swd: 13-14 and 15-12)

➤ When the eight siblings were cast down to the Devildom and Lilith was in the verge of death from the battle, Lucifer begged Diavolo to save her and he did, having her reborn in the Human World with no memories of her previous life. This came with a cost, however, said cost being Lucifer's loyalty to the prince for the rest of time. (swd: 14-10 and 15-7)

➤ He refused to free Belphegor at first, but eventually made a deal with MC: to release him from prison if they went back in time with the help of Barbatos' powers and found out who had freed him in the first place. (swd: 15-14)

➤ He had Barbatos trace down MC's bloodline and found out that they were a descendant of Lilith because of it. (swd: 16-15)

➤ On his birthday he decided to not only celebrate himself but also MC, to give them a "late welcome party" and show appreciation for them after everything that had happened. (swd: 18-A)

➤ He was suspicious of Solomon for suddenly showing up in the Devildom with MC unannounced (swd: 21-4) but arranged things so they would be able to stay for a while. (swd: 22-19)

➤ When Lucifer and his siblings fell Diavolo found them in the colosseum, and every now and then he finds himself going there and pondering over his past decisions and wondering if they were the correct ones after all. (swd: 24-13)

➤ He was the first Solomon talked to about his suspicions that MC was connected to the natural disasters happening in ancient locations around the realms, and for a while only the two of them and Barbatos knew about it (swd: 37-4), since Diavolo decided to keep it a secret from everyone else until he had proof of MC's powers being harmful to the realms (swd: hard mode, 32-16).

➤ He had MC undergo the standard magic exams that demons students are given at RAD, and although he initially told MC it was to help them learn more about the powers demons possess and how to control them (swd: 29-5), it was actually a test to see if their magic was as powerful as Solomon suspected. The sorcerer was proven right when MC passed each of them. (swd: 37-4)

➤ His secrecy and unusual reliance on Solomon caused a strain on his relationship with Lucifer, as the eldest knew that Diavolo was hiding something but refused to tell him. They eventually had a conversation in the colosseum after RAD's exams week ended, where Lucifer directly enquired him about what was happening. Diavolo refused to tell him, saying it wasn't "the right time" for him to know yet, and when Lucifer asked if whatever secret he was keeping involved MC the prince replied that he wasn't certain yet, further concerning him. (swd: 28-C)

➤ He's "not fond" of Simeon because he finds him difficult to deal with and told this to the angel's face while speaking to him. When Simeon asked Diavolo why he found him difficult to deal with, he explained that it's because angels never divulge anything about themselves or the Celestial Realm but are constantly inserting themselves into Devildom business, and he's especially not fond of Simeon because he hides his true intentions better than any angel Diavolo has ever met. (swd: Hard Mode, 31-16) He's so unfond of Simeon that when he finally decided to make him aware of MC's powers being a threat to the three realms, he asked Solomon to break the news instead of doing it himself. (swd: Hard Mode, 32-16)

➤ He eventually decided to tell Lucifer about MC’s situation and through text apologized to the Avatar of Pride for leaving him in the dark for so long and asked him to meet him so he could finally let him in on what was happening (swd: hard mode, 36-16). Unfortunately that meeting never happened, since Lucifer ended up affected by MC’s powers and lost his memories before Diavolo could explain anything to him. (swd chat: the fantastic three, "untitled")

➤ Finally breaking the news to everyone, he and Solomon told the others everything, from the moment the sorcerer started growing suspicions about MC's powers to the moment that their powers struck Lucifer and he lost his memories. They also presented their only solution(s): to sever MC's pacts with the Night Dagger in order to break their magical connections to the brothers and make them an avarage human again. There was another solution: to stabilize MC's magic with the Ring of Light - the counterpart to the Ring of Wisdom that once belonged to Lucifer - but it was discarded right away as the ring had been lost in the Great Celestial War and no one knew its whereabouts. (swd: 37-9)

➤ Once everyone knew the whole story, he apologized to MC for not finding another way to prevent their magic from causing massive destruction to the realms, since he knew neither MC or the brothers wanted to sever their pacts with the each other. (swd: 37-9)

➤ When all things ended well and MC was able to get their powers under control without using the Night Dagger thanks to the Ring of Light that Simeon found just in time, Diavolo organized a party to honor MC and celebrate the victory. (swd: 39-1)

➤ He showed no surprise when MC expressed wanting to stay in the Devildom instead of going back to the Human World but still refused the request. Later, he explained why: "I don't want MC to be a demon...or an angel, for that matter. No, I want MC to be a human. A human who understands us, and who works together with Solomon to shepherd the human world toward a better future… Someday I'd like MC to work alongside me to bring harmony to the three worlds. Which is precisely why I won't allow you to be stuck here in the Devildom, MC. I want you to learn more about the three worlds and to understand each of them better... The human world, the Devildom, and the Celestial Realm.” (swd: 39-10 and 40-22)

➤ He couldn't accompany the brothers on their vacation to the Human World at first because of work and told MC he often found it hard to get things done with everything being so quiet since the others weren't in the Devildom with him. (swd: 42-18)

➤ When tasked with the over the kingdom in his father's absence, the first thing Diavolo did was to start conciliating with the Celestial Realm to end the conflict between the two realms. For this, he started having meetings with high-ranking angels to explain his plans and hopefully reach an agreement of peace between the realms. That was how he met Lucifer, when the angel came down the Devildom to hear what he had to say. (swd: 44-12, 44-15 and swd card: Lucifer, "Glory Days")

➤ He's a majority shareholder of the Three-Legged Crow Group otherwise called Yatagarasu, the largest company in the Devildom that's been expanding business in the Human World with their technology devices. (swd: 47-11)

➤ He has admitted to feeling jealous of the bond MC and the brothers share multiple times. On one hand, he's jealous of the brothers for being so close to MC, and on the other, he's jealous of MC for managing to become a part of their family so easily. “I wonder, when was it, exactly? When did you and your brothers become so very important to me? I thought I'd never be able to become ‘one of you.’ It seemed ridiculous to even try because it was just obvious that I couldn't. But then MC did just that... Effortlessly fitting in with the seven of you to become just another one of the gang. More than that, actually. MC is part of your family now. And when I saw that, it may have made me a little jealous. And while I haven't wanted to admit it to myself up to now...the truth is, I think I was lonely.” (swd: 48-12 and Hard Mode, 50-16)

➤ His mother died shortly after giving birth to him and he was raised by his father who was very strict and gave him a sheltered childhood, so much so he rarely ever left the castle. (swd: 56-18)

➤ He met Barbatos for the first time when he was still a child and the older demon was the first person he met from outside the castle. The older demon amazed him with stories of the outside world, and little Diavolo begged him to stay with him, getting to the point of threatening not to assume his position of king in the future if Barbatos left him. (swd: 56-18)

➤ When the brothers at the farewell party asked if they could make MC “officially part of the family” by marrying them, Diavolo explained that demons and humans aren't able to marry yet but that he'll do everything he can so one day that'll be possible. “MC, you aren't aware of this, but some bad blood still exists between our three worlds. No matter how much all of you may want this to happen, it's not something I have the power to do on my own. [...] However, my ultimate goal is to eliminate these barriers someday. And I will do everything in my power to make sure that happens.” (swd: 60-15)

➤ A while after MC left Diavolo sent them a magic letter and asked them to come to the Devildom for a third time because he had something important to discuss with them. (swd: 61-4) And that something turned out to be a request for MC to participate in the exchange program for a second time and an invitation for them to be a new member of the student council. (swd: 62-17)

➤ The intentions for this second try of the exchange program was mostly the same but now with a different approach, as Diavolo explained to everyone in the meeting then: “Our last exchange program was meant to provide an opportunity for cultural exchange among the inhabitants of all three worlds. But nothing more than that. Think of it as merely a starting point on the path to mutual understanding. But this time, the goal of the program is to make a stronger case for mutual understanding. Directed at everyone both inside and outside of the Devildom.” (swd: 62-17)

➤ He's known Mephistopheles ever since they were children. (nb: 13-11)

➤ Initially, his father was the main reason why he was determined to be a good king and why he even rescued the brothers in the first place. He craved the king's approval, wanted to live up to his name, show himself worthy of the throne, and eventually surpass him. He was forced to face this truth when he was younger during his last trial of the Kingsblood Crucible - a traditional ritual that demons of royalty have to go through before they take the throne. (nb: 14-7)

➤ After MC was officially appointed as the 9th member of the Student Council and the short-term exchange program ended, he gave them an “entry permit” so they could travel from the Human World to the Devildom whenever they wanted. (swd: 80-22)

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kikyoupdates · 1 month ago

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Tears of a Villainess ⭑˚🗡️⭑ 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒

yandere!ocs x reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Reincarnation isn't as great as it sounds, especially when you've been reborn as none other than the villainess. Fated to die if you stand in the heroine's way, you immediately resolve to distance yourself from the plot. As long as you have nothing to do with any of the relevant characters, surely, you'll be able to avoid an untimely death. But in a horrible turn of events, the heroine ends up wanting to get close to you. Are you really doomed to meet the villainess' tragic end? Or is there an even more sinister fate that awaits you?

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You’re straight up not having a good time.

Normally, these kinds of events are meant to be fun. Back in your original world, people would get together to kick back and relax, seeking respite from their busy day-to-day lives. Parties and social gatherings are supposed to be things to look forward to.

In this world, however, that’s not the case.

Living among the nobility is a staggering difference from what you once knew. Very few people are actually here to enjoy themselves. It’s all about maintaining appearances, and everything you say or do will likely be held against you at some point. Everyone hides their true intentions between fabricated smiles and thinly-veiled threats. It’s a dizzying, confusing affair, and since everyone thinks you’re the villainess, there’s no end to the unwanted attention you receive.

But that’s not even the biggest problem. It’s one thing to have to try and navigate through this new environment you’ve suddenly been dropped into.

It’s another thing to have to convince the villainess’ best friend that you’re actually who you say you are.

“[Name], where are you going?”

Flynn keeps following you. Rather foolishly, you’d hoped that he would leave you alone after you wandered off. But no, he insists on sticking to your side like glue, and he doesn’t bother to hide how suspicious he is.

“Is everything okay?” he frowns. “You seem… agitated.”

You nibble on your bottom lip.

Of fucking course I’m agitated! You’ve been grilling me nonstop from the very start! I only know a few facts about the villainess based on the game! I don’t know the inner workings of her entire goddamn life!

“I’m just bored,” you try to dismiss. “There’s nothing to do here.”

“Couldn’t we find someplace to talk instead of you walking around in circles like this? It would help the time pass faster.”

As if. Not only do you want to avoid him for the sake of preventing a potentially gruesome death, but above all else, he knows way too much about the villainess. He’s already asking a ton of questions, and you’ve barely spoken two words to him. He’s simply too perceptive for his own good.

You strain a smile. “I’d rather not stand still right now.”

“Hm,” Flynn frowns. “Like I said, you seem agitated. But why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they laced that wine with something,” you shrug, chuckling a bit.

He doesn’t seem amused in the slightest, and you desperately try to remember whether the villainess had a sense of humor that extended past bullying others for fun.

Honestly, probably not.

“Okay, well… gotta go!”

You high-tail it out of there, but unfortunately, you’ve come to realize that running in heels is a giant pain in the ass. It’s the main reason you haven’t been able to give Flynn the slip yet. All he has to do is speed-walk a bit, and he’s able to keep up with relative ease.

However, Lady Luck decides to shine down upon you, and in the few seconds that you stumble clumsily and manage to place a bit of distance between yourself and Flynn, you happen to run into your parents.

Your mother is quick to frown. “[Name]? What’s the matter with you, girl? Why are you running around like that? It’s improper.”

“I feel sick,” you immediately blurt, with the same energy as a young child walking into their parents’ room to tell them they threw up.

She takes a few moments to look you over, and fortunately, the nervous beads of sweat on your brow and overall frantic expression must be rather convincing. Your father was engaged in a conversation with some other nobleman until just a second ago, but he too turns to look at you, visibly concerned.

“I’d like to go home,” you state. You add, with a shaky breath, “Please.”

Right at that moment, Flynn walks up from behind, having just caught up to you once again.

“[Name],” he sighs. “Seriously, what’s going on with you today? You’re acting—oh. Apologies. I didn’t see you two there.”

Flynn politely greets your parents, but they don’t pay him much attention, because they’re far too preoccupied with fussing over you.

“Hello, Flynn,” your father mumbles in a hurry. He presses a hand to your forehead, which is undoubtedly clammy, because you’re a nervous wreck right now. “Oh dear. Forgive me for not being able to stick around for a chat. [Name] seems to be feeling ill. We had better take her home so she can rest.”

You watch as Flynn’s brows lift. “What?” he frowns, turning towards you. “Is that true? I thought you were just agitated. Do you really think they put something in the wine?”

“Who put what in the wine?” your father gapes.

“I-It’s not like that,” you chuckle awkwardly. The last thing you want to do is unintentionally frame someone for drugging you. “I was just kidding. Um… but I really don’t feel well. It’s possible I might have caught a cold. Or maybe I just haven’t gotten enough sleep lately. I’m worried I might collapse.”

What follows is quite possibly the biggest freakout you’ve ever seen, and honestly, it’s kind of fucking embarrassing.

“Collapse?!” your father exclaims. “Good heavens! Then we must get you out of here as soon as possible! Everyone, move! Give my daughter some space!”

He proceeds to pick you up into his arms, despite the flustered squeal you let out, and your mother isn’t any less dramatic, with all her nonstop desperate wailing.

You squeeze your eyes shut, mortified beyond belief.

Please, just kill me now.

There goes your plan of trying not to draw too much attention to yourself. All of the guests clear the way and let you pass through, but you catch them whispering amongst themselves, and you’re willing to bet they’re not saying nice things about you.

Oh, well. The villainess already had a bad reputation. You’d be a fool to expect that you could overwrite it so quickly. It’s just going to take some time.

You really wish your parents would calm down, though.

“Move, move, move! This is an emergency, goddammit! My daughter is barely clinging to consciousness!”

“Uh, I’m still fine,” you protest.

“She’s passing out quite literally as we speak!”

You roll your eyes and let your body sag, utterly defeated. Seriously, what a family of drama queens. You can’t even blame the villainess for turning out the way she did.

The only silver lining is that the evening is being cut short, and you don’t have to spend any more time with Flynn. You never imagined how stressful it would be to have someone scrutinizing your every move.

“Is she going to be alright?” Flynn asks worriedly. Your father is in the process of hoisting your body up and lifting you into the carriage. “Would it be okay if I come along as well, Count [Last Name]? She’s given me a fright. I’d like to stay by her side, if possible.”

Fuck no! Don’t do that!

You’re just about to protest, but thankfully, your father interjects before you have to.

“She is very ill, Flynn,” he mutters somberly. Which, again, is kind of ridiculous. All you said was that you were worried you might collapse, yet here he is, acting like you’ve just been diagnosed with a terminal disease. “Right now, she needs as much rest as possible, and time to recover. Our family physician will look after her. I’ll ask that you please give her space so she can properly regain her strength.”

Flynn isn’t able to hide his disappointment, but nevertheless, he nods.

“I understand, sir. In that case, I’ll keep her in my thoughts and wish her a swift recovery. Please let me know when she’s feeling better.”

I know I jokingly asked to be killed earlier, but can people please stop acting like I’m going to die?

You slump back into the cushioned seats inside the carriage and sigh heavily. This evening has been sufficiently exhausting, and in more ways than one. You wonder how you’ll be able to break off your friendship with Flynn. He seems rather attached to you, based on how worried he is, and you remember from the game that he vehemently defended the villainess’ actions at first, since they were such close friends.

Clearly, getting rid of him won’t be an easy feat, but in the interest of ensuring your safety, you’re going to have to make it happen.

“Goodnight, [Name],” Flynn says. He smiles encouragingly. “You’ll be alright. Be sure to get as much rest as possible, and I’ll come visit you soon.”

Unlike his smile, which appears genuine, yours is tight-lipped and forced.

I would much rather you didn’t.

“Mommy, can I have more apple juice?”

You hug the blankets closer to your chest and make puppy eyes at your mother, who leans down to affectionately pat your head.

“Of course you can, sweetie,” she beams. “I’ll have one of the servants fetch some for you right away.”

Well, it’s the morning after your parents frantically brought you home, and spoiler alert: you didn’t die.

You did, however, discover that your parents are even more whipped for you than you could ever have imagined. Which was kind of embarrassing last night, but in the grand scheme of things, you’re thankful.

If something goes wrong and you desperately need help, you have a good feeling that they’ll stand by your side.

Also, since they were so terrified last night, they’re pretty much giving you the princess treatment right now. You even got to eat breakfast in bed earlier.

Your mother has been more suspicious of your strange behavior compared to your father, who takes it all in stride, but she seems to have mollified a bit. It’s probably because you’re acting like a spoiled baby right now, which is much more in line with the villainess’ demeanor. You make a mental note to be a bit more bratty from time to time.

Flynn promised to visit you, but you told your parents that you still want to focus on your recovery, so he thankfully hasn’t stopped by yet. You’re going to try and keep him away for as long as possible, at least until you can figure out how to deal with him.

Anyways, you’ve got the whole day to yourself. You don’t even have to do any more math problems for a while, since you’re supposedly so sick. Haha.

You may not be a villainess, but you’re no saint, and you’ll take just about any opportunity to goof off.

“Fiona, come along with me to the garden,” you gesture. “I want to stuff my face with pastries and drink yummy juice under the sun.”

“My lady, shouldn’t you stay in bed?” she frets. “Your father made it very clear how ill you were… he said it was a miracle that you even made it through the night.”

Bro.

You roll your eyes and sip on your glass of apple juice. “He’s just exaggerating. I feel much better now. I’m just taking advantage of how much they’re spoiling me. Don’t tell them I said that, though.”

“Oh,” she blinks, realization dawning on her. After a few moments, she smiles. “I see. In that case, I’ll accompany you and ensure that I see to your every need.”

You grin widely.

“Thanks!”

And so, you spend the better portion of your morning doing nothing in particular. Honestly, waking up in another person’s body out of nowhere is a much bigger deal than you’re making it out to be. Anyone else in your position would probably have had a mental breakdown at the start.

But apart from the fear of the bad endings that the villainess faces in the games, you’d like to say you’re rather enjoying this new life of yours. Seriously, compared to being a struggling university student, drowning in homework and hefty loans, getting to eat delicious pastries while sitting comfortably in an extravagant garden really isn’t that bad. In many ways, it’s a massive improvement.

It’s a grim thought, but you realize there’s very little about your old life that you actually liked. It felt like you were just going through the motions every day, devoid of any real passion or longing. Ever since your parents died, you fell into a bout of depression and pretty much shut everyone out.

Being able to start over was surely a blessing in disguise, and all the more reason why you’re hellbent on protecting this new life.

“[Name],” you mumble in a daze, the taste of sugar lingering on your tongue. You stare up at the clear blue sky and smile. It isn’t the same name you grew up with, but from now on, it is your name, and you’re going to wear it proudly.

You hum, popping another pastry into your mouth. You could probably afford to hold back a bit, otherwise you really will get sick this time, but whatever. It’s a beautiful day, and you’re feeling great, and it’s so nice and peaceful right now—

Hm?

A carriage has just pulled up to the manor. You watched it roll in from your vantage point in the garden, so naturally, your curiosity got the better of you and you started walking over.

Fiona scrunches up her brows. “My, who could it be? I didn’t think we were expecting any visitors today.”

You shrug. “Don’t look at me. I’m usually the last to hear about these things.”

Both of you stare at each other, visibly perplexed, but it turns out that your questions are soon answered, because the carriage door opens, and a man disembarks.

And of course, that man is…

…actually, who is he supposed to be?

You don’t have the slightest clue. He has black hair and rather piercing blue eyes, which you can make out even from a good distance away. He’s dressed in elegant clothes, so he’s clearly a noble. You suppose he must be one of your parents’ acquaintances or something. They probably know a whole bunch of people.

For some reason, though, it feels like you should know who this man is. There’s this weird sense of déjà vu you’re getting, and it’s like an itch in your brain that you just can’t seem to scratch.

It isn’t until you’re staring him face to face that it finally clicks.

“Ah!”

Rowan Calderwood. That’s what his name is. He made a few very brief appearances in the game, only in about two or three scenes, but you remember now that he’s supposed to be Alistair’s cousin.

Also, if you recall correctly, they’re not on especially good terms, but aren’t too familiar with all the details.

But that’s beside the point. What is he even doing here?

Rowan tilts his head. “Pardon me. Is there something on my face? You looked rather shocked for a moment, and even exclaimed quite loudly.”

You clamp your lips shut. Right. As far as you know, the villainess and Rowan never actually met in the game, which means he’s probably just seeing you for the very first time. It’d be better to pretend like you don’t know who he is.

“No reason in particular,” you shrug. “I just thought you were a trespasser for a moment, that’s all.”

Rowan’s eyes widen, but rather than looking offended, he just looks amused. He’s not technically trespassing, but if what Fiona said is true, then he must have showed up without an invitation, which is considered to be quite rude.

“Please forgive me if I gave you a fright,” Rowan says, then he bows deeply, only to lift his head after a few moments and smile. “I take it you must be [Name]. You’re even more beautiful than I had imagined. My name is Rowan Calderwood. It’s a pleasure to finally be meeting you.”

You wish you could say the feeling was mutual, but he interrupted your pastry-eating session, and you didn’t even get to finish the fresh glass of apple juice Fiona had just poured you.

Plus, he’s related to Alistair. Is he here to try and convince you to restore the engagement? Because no way in hell is that happening.

“I have no intention of taking Alistair back,” you state matter-of-factly, crossing your arms at him. “You share the same last name, so I presume you’re related to him in some capacity. I thought I should make my feelings clear from the start, so that you don’t waste any more of your time.”

Rowan’s eyes widen for the second time, and once again, he doesn’t look offended, or even appalled.

If anything, he looks delighted.

“How amusing,” he chuckles. “It seems you’re even better than I had hoped for.”

Uh…?

Rowan shakes his head. “Rest assured, my lady, that isn’t what I came here to say. Admittedly, I’d heard that your engagement with my cousin fell through, but I haven’t made the trip here on his behalf. I came for purely selfish purposes, I must admit.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders sag, and relief fills your chest. “Well, that’s good. I meant the part about you not trying to convince me to take Alistair back, not the part about you being selfish, just to be clear.”

“Right,” he muses. “I had a feeling that’s what you meant.”

This bastard just keeps smiling for some reason. What’s so funny? Granted, you know you can be hilarious at times, but you’ve been nothing but stoic thus far. Yet he acts like he’s having the time of his goddamn life.

Wait a second…

There’s a theory forming in your mind, and honestly, you’re not sure you like the thought of it all that much.

Fortunately, Fiona has your back.

“P-Pardon me, Lord Calderwood,” she nervously pipes in. “Might I ask if you have an appointment? Count [Last Name] made it very clear that there were to be no visitors today. My lady fell ill last night, and she��s been taking the day to recover all her strength.”

“I was super sick,” you nod. “My father said it’s a miracle I even made it through the night.”

Rowan frowns, which isn’t too surprising, considering you look healthy as a horse and you were stuffing your face with pastries up until a few moments ago.

He clears his throat. “Oh my. Apologies. I wasn’t aware that you weren’t feeling well last night. You look so stunning and radiant that I couldn’t possibly imagine you’d been battling sickness as of late.”

“Yes, well, I just so happen to be gorgeous, but it’s true that I’m taking the day off to recover. Also, please make an appointment if you plan to visit again in the future. No one was expecting you to show up,” you say, sternly enough that you hope he takes the hint.

Honestly, he probably realizes he’s being rude, but it seems like he just doesn’t care.

“I had hoped for it to be a surprise,” he smiles. “I was so excited to meet you that I must have forgotten my manners. I also wasn’t sure when your parents would accept my request to meet, given that things are rather strained between our families right now. Well, Alistair’s side of the family, at least.”

You arch a brow. “So, you thought it would be better to show up without warning and take it from there?”

“I’m guilty of being a touch eccentric at times. Especially when someone as beautiful and charming as yourself is involved,” he adds flirtatiously.

“How did you know I was beautiful? We literally just met.”

“I had heard the rumors, of course. You’re hailed far and wide as the most breathtaking, desirable lady in all the land.”

Desirable? Are we talking about the same rotten villainess with the personality of a stinky tomato? Now I know this is all BS.

Still, it’s getting clearer by the second where he’s headed with this. You’ve long since connected the dots.

Rowan’s smile has yet to disappear, and he crosses a hand over his chest before bowing once more.

“It shames me to admit this, but… ever since I heard that you and Alistair were no longer engaged, I simply couldn’t hold back any longer.”

Oh, boy. This is actually happening.

“I was hoping to speak to your father first and foremost and make my intentions clear, but I happened to stumble upon you, and now, I’d like to say what’s on my mind.”

“Uh, you really don’t have to,” you insist. “Like, seriously—”

“[Name],” Rowan breathes, and you watch, horrified, as he gets down on one knee and takes your hand in his. “Would you… grant me the honor of marrying you?”

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