#he's so sweet i promise

[ariadnes-elixirs]

thinking about a yandere forgotten god...

(male yandere x gn mercenary reader)

part 1

tw: manipulative behavior, reader was lost at sea before the story began, reader also has self-worth issues

you felt soft, cool hands shaking you awake. your head felt like it was full of cotton, but you could faintly hear a masculine voice excitedly speaking, "good morning! sorry to wake you up, but i can't have you dying on your first day here!"

as you feel yourself waking up, you try to rack your brain to figure out how you got in this situation. you slowly become aware of the sand beneath your body and the feeling of waves ebbing and flowing near your legs. are you... on a beach?

you struggle to open your eyes, but you can feel those same hands prop you up into a sitting position. you feel a cool hand against your forehead, and you lean into the hand before you can stop yourself.

you hear the voice again, "you poor thing! you're burning up!" the voice sounded concerned, but through your muffled hearing you could also make out concealed... excitement?

you feel one arm move to support your back and another underneath your knees. you begin trying to open your eyes again, and as you do you can feel yourself being lifted off of the sandy beach. the voice pipes up again, "let me bring you inside! it's been so long since someone has washed up on my island!"

as you finally muster up the strength to open your eyes, you see the source of the voice you've been hearing and the person carrying you. he's a taller man with a dark, tanned complexion. he has long hair, with some strands styled into braids and gold adornments scattered throughout. one notable feature that stood out to you was golden, almost inhuman looking eyes.

a sudden wave of fatigue overwhelms you, as you feel the desire to sleep grow. you try to force yourself to stay awake, but you can only delay the inevitable for so long as your exhaustion catches up to you.

the person carrying you is still muttering, whether he's talking to you or himself is unclear, but it slowly fades out as you lose consciousness.

~

you wake up to a faint floral scent and the feeling of a soft, plush bed. you feel the silken sheets beneath you, nicer and cleaner than anything you've slept in within the past several years, possibly even your whole life. your head is resting on a downy, fluffy pillow, almost moulding to the shape of your head as you lay there.

during your years as a traveler and mercenary, you have become accustomed to the rough and scratchy sheets, rock-hard pillows, and damp musty rooms in whatever inn you could scrounge up enough coins to stay in.

you vaguely remember taking a job as a guard on a merchant's ship, but struggle to remember how you ended up in a bed that was definitely too nice to be something you belong in.

as your sleepy mind is processing as much as it can in your tired state, you hear footsteps approaching.

you start moving your arms and legs to sit up in the bed as you hear the voice from before. "oh! you're awake! i made some food for you, i'll be right back!!" followed by the sound hurried footsteps leaving whatever room you're in.

as you finally sit up and open your eyes, you start to take in the room you've found yourself in. it almost looks like... a cave? the walls are rocky and uneven, but still covered in ivy and lush vegetation. there are pieces of furniture you would expect to see in a normal bedroom, but there are also flowerpots all over the room, each filled with plants and flowers you've never seen before. you also notice a couple... bird nests? just... where are you?

you didn't even know who brought you here or how you ended up here. something about this situation felt off to you, and you start to process that this is somewhere you should not be and definitely don't belong.

suddenly you hear the sound of footsteps rushing back towards you and as he enters the room you can finally get a good look at the person who brought you away from the shore.

you vaguely remember seeing his dark skin and hair with gold pieces in it before, but you didn't remember much else. you immediately notice his clean, white clothes. which is typically impossible to attain and then maintain by people who have to dirty their hands for a living. a piece of fabric is draped over his shoulder, but most of his chest appears to be exposed. in addition to his hair adornments, his ears, arms, and neck are all covered in gold accessories. you also didn't notice just how long his hair was, reaching down to the middle of his back. you can tell that it is very well maintained and taken care of.

he walks over to you, carrying a tray of food. he smiles at you before stating "i found you washed up on shore, but i couldn't let you just lay there. you appeared ill when i found you, so you should definitely eat something healthy and rest as much as possible while you recover."

he places the tray of food on your lap as you process his words, "...thank you," you reply, "but... why would you help me?"

"well... it's not every day someone washes up on the my island's shores!" he giggles.

you think momentarily before replying, "so... how often does this happen?"

the question appears to catch him off guard, and his smile falters for a second as he looks away. "well... uh... this is... it's probably been... a couple hundred years, actually."

you process his response and start to pay closer attention to the feeling of unease thats been steadily growing within you as you interacted with the stranger.

if he was telling the truth, that would make him some kind of immortal being. a nymph? a god?

you were just some mercenary looking to make a living, and you certainly weren't strong enough to take on any kind of immortal. you feel more uncertainty creep in, there's no way he would actually care about some mercenary... he's... this has to be a trap, right?

he seems to notice your unease and anxiety regarding your current situation. he sighs gently and looks at the floor, "look, i know this must be scary for you. first being lost at sea and then washing up on some strange island. but... i really do want to help you," he smiles, "please, just let me take care of you, at least until you recover."

you still feel unsure, but what could you do? he has already helped you, he brought you into his... house... and let you sleep in his clean bed. which is... more than some mercenary deserves already...

you slowly shift your gaze down to the food on the tray he set on your lap. soup, bread, and some chicken. you pick up the spoon sitting next to the soup, submerge it in the soup, and sluggishly bring it to your lips.

it's... the best soup you've ever tasted.

he smiles at you as you eat and suddenly you remember you never asked for his name. "so uh, who exactly are... you?" you ask.

he giggles, "no one you would know, but i suppose humans do love their little names for things. now that i'm not alone anymore, maybe having a name would be a nice change of pace."

his word choice suggests the length of your stay will likely be... longer than you would have anticipated. but it's too late, he's definitely not going to let you go. he finally has someone to talk to, spend time with, embrace, love. why would he let this opportunity pass him by?

"you can call me cal, dear~" he chuckles to himself before continuing, "now eat up before your meal gets cold~"

a/n: yeah so he is definitely inspired by calypso from the odyssey eoriskwksla. i thought it would be a neat concept, especially if the person on the island did not have a significant other. he genuinely just wants to be around another person after being cursed and then forgotten after hundreds of years. he is super soft and sweet towards you though. however in classic yandere fashion, he also intends to make sure you never leave :)

[shepscapades]

Realized I haven’t posted anything other than dbhc angst lately, so here’s a small collection of silly and sweet things as an offering to balance out the angst :]

[mohntilyet]

still i think the one of the more fun differences drawn between illario and lucanis that was lost would be illario's ability to endear himself to others but serious lack of empathy, vs. lucanis' (self perceived) inability to be charming but how much he cares. it's interesting that the game has gone with the "lucanis' ability vs illario's lack thereof" because i think illario being the dellamorte 'best in show dog' vs. lucanis' attack dog would have made me so unwell.

lucanis is... awkward. he's not unlikable, because he is usually very polite, but he doesn't speak much and only seems to care about the other dellamortes. he once sent viago de riva a knife with no note (who knows what he could have meant by this). he does what caterina asks of him, and by his own admission, cannot say no to her. he is a dramatic and prolific killer, and that makes how untouchable he is even worse.

and the crows like illario, sure, AND he's a good assassin! he's even a good crow! he's so good that he can make lucanis smile, and so he is the charming, sociable one. he's the one that stays in treviso and can be relied upon to care, illario's even the one people prefer over caterina and lucanis!

but illario is decoration. he's the prize poodle, and even if poodles were bred to be working dogs, nobody will ever pick him to protect the house over the german shepherd that regularly mauls intruders. anyways the analogy is getting away from me. the point i'm trying to make is that i want illario to have a different kind of jealousy/hatred that's not just over 'being bad at killing' but also an arrogant loathing for everyone around him that is getting harder to hide, because they've forgotten he can bite and is just itching to rip someone's jugular out. illario is very good at hiding his family resemblance to caterina, while lucanis suffers under his grandmother's, and his own, reputation.

[ping-ski]

I love how, in the tags, sugar daddy eclipse is written as "sugar!clip", bc in my head it implies he's made of sugar. It makes me want to lick him.

...Not that I didn't want to lick him before

Eclipse wouldn't stop you from licking him, but fair warning - he WILL return the favor.

[lovereadandwrite]

“I shall protect you, & you alone… even if…you stand as the last person on this earth”

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

one morning you cling to satoru’s back and sleepily plead for him not to leave for work and he feels closer to killing the higher ups than ever before

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[teddybeartoji]

suguru helping you undress when you're tired.............

[bruciemilf]

Bi-Han wifed up the baddest bitch in Outworld (she can't fight her way out of a lunch bag and she's God's favourite idiot)

[ardenation]

just finished sweet tooth season 3(netflix show).

*sigh*

if you haven’t watched it yet, I’m about to convince you why you should.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE WATCH IT IS SO SO SO SO GOOD IM SERIOUS TRY IT OUT AT LEAST YOU WILL CRY NO LESS THAN FIFTEEN TIMES WHEN WATCHING IT THE PLOT THE TWISTS THE CHARACTERS PLEASE OH MY GOD THIS FUCKING SHOW CHANGED MY LIFE FOREVER

also, the main character is a cute little deer boy who suffers. like a lot. so there’s a lot of angst for your angst feeding pleasure!

[paingoes]

Destroyer - Marks

(Masterlist)

girl help i can't stop making bonus content

this is set right around Part XIII, in regard to the “I should probably give you more visible marks.” comment.

(Content: living weapon whumpee, obedient whumpee, somewhat reluctant whumper, dehumanization, power imbalances, physical abuse, minor blood, brief drug mention, death mention)

==============

He got approximately ten million fucking emails calling him an arsonist, or telling him that the experiment is an accident waiting to happen, or asking why he was letting the A-bomb walk around off-leash, why he was letting the bomb walk at all. Accusations he wouldn’t dare repeat. It was all so stupid. Delta was good. Paris never worried about him fragging. But the appearance of insubordination was damning all on its own. It was not a good situation.

Unfortunately, the messages kept coming. From staff he actually respected, too. People he needed. He didn’t even know how word reached them that quickly. He sometimes forgot just how scared they were of Delta. It had never been a popular project. That night, he received many requests for him to be killed outright. Not fucking happening.

Fucking Nezu telling him what to do with his fucking psychic. He was more mad about that than he ever could have been at Delta. That was why he’d gone easy on him. It gave him serious pause whenever his wants overlapped with Nezu’s — sometimes enough to evaporate them completely. He really wasn’t in the mood.

Something had to be done though, by the time the next meeting rolled around. They had to know that Delta had been punished for it, that Paris didn’t just let him get away with everything.

Delta didn’t fight him on it — not that he’d expected him too. He kneeled in front of the desk like he’d been asked. Paris leaned back against it, hitting the pen a few more times than he needed to. 

Delta looked bad. That day had been the only time Paris had ever seen him cry — even weeks later, he hadn’t seemed to recover from it. His eyes were still so pleading, in a way they’d never been before. It was unsettling.

Paris readjusted the only ring he wore on his right hand. It was sapphire — and it was clean. There wasn’t any reason to drag it out. He tilted Delta’s face up a little, tucking the slick hair back behind the webbed fin of his ear. 

“Hold still.” He didn’t want to hit his eye by accident. The jewel was sharp.

He backhanded him hard across the face. Harder than he would have normally. It needed to bruise.

Delta’s head was forced sharply to one side. His hair fell back in his face, totally obscuring it when he looked down at the floor. He didn’t outwardly react, but his next breaths came out shallow and shaky. Yeah, that hurt. 

Paris cupped his face again, moving it back up to examine the injury. It’d landed where he wanted it to — a thin cut right along his cheekbone. He could see the spot where the bruise would form over the next couple hours. Delta winced. Paris gently smoothed over the flushed skin with his thumb. 

“I’m sorry.” Delta’s voice was quiet. It was all he would say recently. 

“I know.”

It was hard to be mad at him when he was so clearly repentant. When he was being this good about it. Paris released him. He’d planned on hitting him across the other side of his face as well, in the interest of covering all his angles. It didn’t feel worth it anymore.

“Hand.”

Delta placed his hand gingerly into Paris’s own. Paris tightened his grip around it, supporting the palm beneath so that it’d absorb the full force of it. Knuckles facing up. Paris reached back for the ruler left out on the desk.

It cracked down hard against his knuckles, fast enough that he didn’t really have time to flinch. His injured hand reflexively tightened around Paris’s in the aftermath; it was the only real physical reaction he’d had. His claws dug painfully into Paris’s hand, not yet breaking the skin.

Paris released his grip on the hand. Delta’s hand relaxed and the claws withdrew, but he didn’t pull it back like he’d expected. He just left it resting there in his grasp.

“Other one.” 

He offered it without resistance. Same routine. Paris brought the ruler back down over his other hand, watching as the first signs of bruising appeared upon them. He placed the ruler back down and released his grip on Delta’s hand. 

“Done.”

There wasn’t much else to do, really. Delta was always dressed in long sleeves and ceremonial garb. For the most part, only his face and hands were exposed on vanguard days. It was enough, though. His expression alone was enough. If he just stayed like that, he’d be fine.

Delta folded both of his hands back into his lap, bright purple and blue against the pale white of clothes. His hair fell messily in his face, but parts of his eyes were still visible. He was still looking at Paris in that desperate, shell-shocked way.

“…Easy. You’re fine.” Paris didn’t know what to say to make him normal again. “The sting will be gone in a few minutes.”

For the hands, anyway, though the numbness would remain. The mark on his face would hurt a lot longer. 

Delta nodded slowly. A small amount of blood appeared by the cut. 

Paris gestured for him to lean forward again. Delta did so, cringing a little. Paris pressed a tissue against his cheek to stop the bleeding. He sighed as it bled straight through.

“…You want a bandaid?” He offered. The bruise would still be visible beneath it. 

“Yeah.” His voice was barely audible. He took the tissue from Paris, keeping the pressure there. 

Paris disappeared for a moment, loudly knocking shit over in the overfilled medicine cabinet. He came back with the split bandage. Delta held still as he applied it over the cut, smoothing it out against his cheek. It was pale white, the same color as his clothes, standing out sharply against the dark blue of his skin.

“…Thank you,” Delta said quietly. Sweetly. It fucking killed him sometimes.

Paris felt something strange in the pit of his stomach. He ignored it. He made a small, noncommittal noise as he discarded the paper into the trash. 

Delta touched the side of his face gently with the newly discolored fingers. Bruises on bruises. He put his hand abruptly back into his lap when Paris looked at him, as if he’d gotten caught. 

“We’re done.” Paris waved him off, sliding the ruler back into the drawer. The pen was starting to kick in. He was getting lightheaded. 

Delta rose slowly, giving something like a curtsy before he left. Or maybe his legs were just unsteady. Paris didn’t really care. 

The door closed quietly. Paris slid the lock shut. He pressed his forehead against the wood grain. Definitely lightheaded.

……

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

[black-and-yellow]

OJ2 my beloved/hated

[iksvolforb]

Jayvik nation are we still thriving? Is it too late for me to start a University AU fic? 😭💔

The Chronic Condition of Falling in Love

Ship: Jayvik

Current Word Count: ^3,300

Current Rating: PG

Key Tags: Alternate Universe - University, Friends to Lovers, Chronic Illness, Slow Burn, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut

Summary:

When Viktor makes the bold decision to partner with Jayce for their final year at University, he would never have imagined all the ways that Jayce would linger on his mind. When the mid-year rolls around, Viktors health takes a turn for the worse. When he leaves his apartment less and less, Jayce shows up more and more, and Viktor has to come to terms with two things. One, his health may never be the same again. And Two, falling in love is inevitable when the symptom is Jayce Talis.

Snippet: Chapter 1: The Pitch

Something about the way the next student spoke had Viktor lifting his gaze away from his notepad. A loud, confident voice that swept smoothly across the room. His tone bled passion into his every word. His movements were effortless and precise as he drew attention to notations, diagrams and sketches on the board. His eyes were ablaze with excitement and his smile never wavered. For the first time today, Viktor spent more time paying attention to the student and the presentation than just the sound of a voice and his notebook. For the first time today, Viktor was intrigued.

[wildsaltair]

the way his tunic fits over his chest is literally the air I breathe every day

[momentomori24]

I SWEAR THIS MAN JUST LOOKS LIKE A NEW PERSON EVERY TIME HE APPEARS THAT I DIDN'T EVEN RECOGNIZE HIM AT FIRST

Like, did I really have to scroll through Twitter to find out that this random all knowing dude living behind the pearly gates, heavily implied to possess all the lore and answers to mysteries Matpat has been aiming to solve for years is goddamn SCOTT CAWTHON????

[danielslaw]

KIT HARRINGTON AS JON SNOW GAME OF THRONES: SEASON SIX EPISODE 9 THE BATTLE OF THE BASTARDS: PRELUDE DON'T WAKE THE DRAGON WOLF