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liveontelevision · 9 months ago

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R and R | Lucifer X OC!Reader

Another! Tadaaa

If i'm being totally honest, i was Stoned out of my mind when i wrote this, so i can't guarantee it's top shelf, but here ya go.

TW: some mentions of self-harm, suicide, but mostly fluff and suggestive stuff

Enjoy ;)

♡♡♡

You stumbled upon the renovated hotel directly after arriving in hell. It was a dark and confusing night, but you hadn't had the easiest life anyway. Barely getting by day to day, with a history of depression and self-harm, sometimes your only solution to your problems was to keep walking forward. So you did just that, leading you to a fantastical hotel that seemed to be giving away free rooms.

You entered the lobby, covered in dirt, blood, and whatever else was on the streets of hell. You worked as a waitress, and on an especially rough day, your break time was spent taking your own life. And here you are, in a pink and white striped, vintage uniform dress. Along with a little apron, that still had written orders on it in your pocket.

Looking an absolute mess, Charlie immediately took you in and fixed you up before rambling about the redemption aspect.

It was a miracle that you stumbled upon the clean and comfortable rooms available. It wasn't anything that fancy, but after being on the streets until your end, this was heaven.

After appreciating a significant amount of pampering, a hot shower, comfortable clean clothes, and a cushy bed, you were introduced to the rest of the hotel residents. Everyone seemed lovely, some.. interesting.. personalities, but nothing you weren't too intimidated by. Except for Alastor. The tall, shadowy figure put you entirely on edge, and you hated to admit that you were actually afraid of him.

Moving on -

You've been a resident at the hotel for 6 months! They did say redemption would take a while, but at this point, it was becoming hard to believe.. Still, in reality, why would you leave? You created a chosen family that can't be compared to your living family in any aspect. Not to mention the slightest crush on the king of hell himself.

It was something you were ignoring for weeks, but his humor and caring nature was too hard to ignore. The fact is, you start noticing little things when you develop feelings. How his eyes sparkled when he looks at Charlie, and fiddled with his ring when he became anxious, and how his hair get's messier when he seems stressed. You assume that he doesnt really take care of himself when theres too much on his plate.. it almost made your heart ache just thinking about it.

You also notice how he unconsciously flinches at the slightest touch, even to Charlie. From the sounds of it, he hadn't been this active and social for years, so physical contact had to have been sparce.

It was just because he was working on things.. yeah, important things!

Of course, its your anniversary of arriving at the hotel, so you were welcomed into the lobby that night with banners, balloons, some sloppy cookies, the works; everyone was there to celebrate your progress. The night consisted of a heart-felt speech from charlie, some disturbing accessories gifted to you by niffty, and a lot of drinking. Lucifer was prone to getting lost in a conversation, especially with you. And even moreso after a few rounds of whiskey. Very late into the night, you finally noticed how everyone had gone to their rooms, leaving you and Lucifer in a passionate conversation about whatever important project he was currently working on.

You found yourself facing him entirely, your knees brushed against his side with every roll of your barstool. You were too intoxicated to notice his small reactions to it. Occasionally, it would cause him to stutter or make him lose his focus. You were rudely dissociating while he talked, noticing his hair was slightly messy. It must have been another long day.. A small piece of hair fell into his face, but he didn't do much about it, continously blowing it out of his eyesight and combing his fingers back through his hair. It was all you were able to focus on while he spoke, almost to an annoying extent. You let out a sigh and simply brush the hair out of his eyes during one of his stories. You leaned back and propped your elbow on the bar, waiting for him to continue on after he stopped talking for some reason. It finally clicked that you may have overstepped his boundaries. He was blinking his widened eyes, just a slight blush across his cheeks. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands.

"Oh! Oh- Lucifer i'm sorry i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything I just-" you rambled an apology out before he snaps out of his fazed state. He quickly calms you down;

" Nope! No-ho-hope you are great. Fine! You're fine, it's fine.." his drunken babbles dug his grave. He groaned and laid his heads in his hands for a moment.

"Just.. i've been alone for so long, you know? I always get a little nervous when people do that.. type of thing..." He leaned up, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

For some reason, your only thought process was to try to calm his nerves any way possible.

" S-sooo.. do you want, like, a massage or something?" That bold comment was never something you'd say to royalty, even to ones you've become close with. Lucifer's eyes grew even wider as he stuttered nonsense.

You slap your forehead, "Fuck! Lucifer, i'm drunk i swear.. i'm sorry. If you manage to remember this night after blacking out, do me a favor and forget this whole thing, okay?" You rambled.

".. Yes."

It took you a moment to process what you just heard. You looked over to him, his shoulders were tensed as his hands clenched fists onto his thighs. He was looking away, biting the inside of his mouth, possibly to stop him from saying anything else. You blinked, a small smile spread across your face, just seeing this powerful demon acting all embarrassed.

"Okay. Sure, yeah! I mean.. if you're comfortable, i.. i don't mind doing it." You responded. There was no reason to debate this, playing it off as a bold response. Lucifer gulped, his face only getting hotter with every word.

He takes a few deep breaths," Fuck it.. Listen, I trust you." He smiled at you, the kind of smile that made your heart melt. You try to switch the topic as the two of you moved up to his room, simply to avoid the dreaded awkward silence. You got into another friendly conversation about something unimportant, that will have been forgetten in a matter of hours.

You've been in his workshop once or twice. It seemed like he kept the doors locked often, probably nervous about anyone seeing the mess that was inside. It wasn't too bad this night. He did have to swipe a few rubber ducks off the couch, so there was a place to sit, though. Lucifer plopped on the couch, his back stretched heavily as his head leaned over the back of the head rest. He rubbed his shoulder in this relaxed position, seemingly stressed just by being in a place he associated with work. That didn't stop you from taking a mental photo of him in this state. He wore a white shirt, decorated with puffed sleeves that were rolled to his elbows, and a small ruffle coming from the neck line. He crossed his legs in his regular heeled boots and began to explain some work he was struggling with. He brushed his hair back into place again, looking to you as he did and noticing you were still standing. He cocked his head before silently slapping the cushion next to him.

" So.. how we gonna do this?" He tries to play off the suddenly intimate moment with a jokingly flirty voice.

"Ah! Right, well.. you could - face this way, and i'll just -" you quickly sat with your legs underneath you and take a hold of his shoulders, moving his body to have his back face you.

"Ookay. So.. um, tell me if this is.. uncomfortable, okay?" You decided to set that boundary for him, and he nodded in response. He looked down slightly, revealing his neck to you, already relaxing his shoulders.

Your hands hesitated for a moment just reaching out to him. Finally making contact, you noticed a familiar little flinch, making you pull away immediately.

"Sorry! Sorry, go ahead.. uh- please.." he muttered. You nod and try again, your hands touching his shoulders much slower than before. He slouches his back towards you, letting out a satisfying sigh just a few moments later.

You moved your massaging hands from his shoulders to his shoulder blades, then to his middle back, then slightly lower. As you focused on specific areas that simply felt harder to dig into, you occasionally ran your fingers up and down his spine. He shuddered every time, making you do it just for the reaction at certain points.

You brushed another spot near his side, that made him flinch. It took both of you by surprise, being simply one of those spots on your body that make you jump. He let out a sudden hic, turning his head back to you. Your eye contact felt long overdue. The couch wasn't very large, his actions left him just a few inches away from your face. You hold your breath, worried that he'd hear how fast your heart was beating. You take the sudden interruption as a chance to make a suggestion.

"Can I.. can i do your- uhm..." You pointed to his chest, implying what you were too nervous to say. He almost stopped to think for a moment before shifting his position to face you directly. You let out your breath and looked at the nervous demon in front of you. His face was rosey pink, his eyes half lidded. You take out another quick breath before reaching back up to his shoulders. You dug into his shoulder and collarbone area, nervous to go any lower. Your thumbs traced the divots of his collarbone as your fingers reached up across his neck momentarily. He melted into every movement, his body moving with the direction of your hands, his eyes finally resting shut.

You got as lost in it as he did, the massage suddenly turning into your hands lightly tracing over his features. You could tell he only needed the slightest comforting touch to relax. Your fingers traced down the center of his chest, then made circular motions over his abdomen, then back up, tracing across his arms and squeezing his palms lightly. He flexed his wrists as if he was about to hold your hand in his. You were embarrassed to admit how excited that madd you for a moment. While running your hands near his sides, you accidentally reach into his partially untucked blouse. You both gasp and pull away, giving each other the same wide-eyed face. Lucifer was first to break eye contact. He looked at your hands for a moment before letting out a brave breath and unbuttoning his shirt from the front. You cover your eyes and stammered out.

"Woah-woah! It was an accident you don't have to do this if you-"

"Oh! Shit! Ah-hah.. i'd.. i mean, i wouldnt mind... if .. you.. wouldn't?" He bashfully replied, covering his previously unbottoned chest.

"No, i don't mind.." Your responses were becoming more confident, uncovering your face. You almost smile at him but become too flustered watching him remove his shirt. He let his top sit at his waist, simply pulling the shirt off his shoulders. His skin was like porcelain, smooth and white, and surprisingly cold to the touch. Your hands pressed on his chest, attempting to heat him up with your warm hands. Either you pushed too hard, or he expected something different, but Lucifer follows your hands and lets you essientally push him back to lay on his forearms. You can't handle it. He looked so amazing in this position. You both mentally decided that it was best to just not question this increasingly intimidate moment.

You resume running your hands across his chest, noticing his breath changing. After just a couple minutes, he was putty in your hands. His forearms were shaking and gripping the edge of the couch, ready to give out. Then he finally gave in, making him drop his back to the cushion of the couch. You followed his movements as the position slowly shifted, and your knee moved in between his legs, trying to keep up with his slouching torso. He's breathing heavily from his lips, his face a tomato red, while he can barely keep his eyes open. You enjoyed his reaction too much to ruin this moment, but god, you were desperate to be closer to him. You swirled your palms down his torso and abdomen, tracing his v lines until you lightly grazed the hem of his pants.

You stop yourself, pulling your hands away and keeping them close to you, hoping to hide your heaving chest until you calmed down. It takes him a minute to tune back in, looking up at you with concern and slight disappointment. His eyes darted around for a moment before sitting up and breaking the silence.

"You.. uh.. you want to stop? You've done more than enough, trust me, Way more than.. I.. erm.. fuck it. If you're not up to it, it's okay.. but-" he stopped his mumbling, to slowly pull out his 3 sets of wings. To comfortably adjust their size, he had to essentially curl them in your direction. Being as large as they were, they were nearly encasing the two of you together. You shrink back, curiousity hitting you before he could properly ask. You ran your hand across his feathers, simply intrigued by their color and softness. He let out a soft yelp, making you pull back again. Again, you two give eachother a wide eyed stare, not sure how to follow up that kind of reaction. At this point, you finally let out a snort and started to laugh. It was quick to lighten the mood, as he joined you.

"Keep going." He smiled at you, a beautiful sparkle in his red eyes, as he reached out to take one of your hands. He took that hand and gave its palm a small kiss.

"Ooh~ i'm honored, your highness." You teased. He responded with wiggling his eyebrows and sending a joking smirk in your direction, hoping that would conseal his excitement to your words.

It didn't, really.

You gently take your hand from his, and continue running your fingers across his feathers. They flinch at any contact but still folded into your hand with a longing to be held. His flirtatious demeanor immediately folded, letting out another sigh. He became a bit vocal this time, letting out low hums every now and then. And sometimes, he would attempt to hold his eyes open just to look at you. He wasn't sure if you could tell, being too concentrated in your work, but he didn't care. He loved the view. His breath became heavier again, but with the close proximity and his wings keeping you two close, the area became very heated.

You send a puff of air close to his feathers, letting out a small chuckle at his sudden shock. The laughter between the two of you slowly dissolving into sweet smiles. The light was slightly dampened by the coverage of his wings, yet you were still able to see his shifting eyes. He leans towards you, breathing slowly. In response, you place your hands back on his chest, causing him to sit back up a bit. He almost looked upset for a moment, being stopped from moving towards you. You gather the courage before moving in closer, your legs nearly overlapping each other at this point. You lean in just a few inches away and shut your eyes, allowing him to finally make the decision to meet your lips together.

The teasingly long tension from this intimacy seemingly burst. Lucifer's wings pull back, tucking back behind him. He breathes heavily into your lips, his head swaying in the direction of yours, still melting into your touch. To keep him from completely collapsing, you keep your hands firmly on his chest. His arms tenderly grab yours, just needing something, anything, to anchor himself. You pull away after a while, allowing him to catch his breath.

Even in this winded, flustered state, you could both tell this is something he's needed for a long time. It was a long night, following every desire that he was too embarrassed to ask for and loving every moment of it. It felt so good to give this sweetheart something he didn't realize he needed; something he deserves. You end up leaning your back on the couch arm, his back flush to your chest. Your fingers were running through his hair slowly, providing a very satisfying scalp massage. The warmth coming from you body, and him unknowingly using your chest as a pillow was more than enough to lull him to sleep. You couldn't remember if he was awake at the time, but you continued to plant a small kiss on the top of his head before falling asleep right underneath him.

---

You sit up quickly from your sleep, immediately wincing at the light coming from the workshops' windows. After taking a moment to get used to your throbbing head, you finally took in your surroundings and then the flood of memories of the night before hit. Your eyes went wide, and you groaned into your hands. Despite this reaction, you were so glad that you remembered last night. You finally notice a blanket over you and a large duck plush underneath your head, which made you smile until realizing Lucifer was gone. Your chest dropped, immediately thinking of what you could have done to make him leave you here, alone.

"Feeling like shit, my love? 'Cause i sure am!" His voice comes from the door, in an entirely joking tone. You quickly turn to see him, letting out a sigh of relief. The king of hell made you fucking pancakes. He wear a little apron protecting the same shirt he wore the night before, and placed your plate at a nearby table. You hobble off the couch, groaning from the stiffness of your body. Lucifer was quick to pull out your chair, and push it back in once you were seated, the table set with a variety of fruits, the tall stack of pancakes, a small glass of water, and a large mug of coffee. Clearly, that was what you went for first. The drink shot you awake, noticing the freshness of the ingredients and its preporation. You take in a large fork-ful of hotcakes and let out a stereotypical hum.

"You're amazing, Lucifer." You mumble out of your pancake-filled cheeks. He places his hand on yours, simply smiling at you from the side of the table.

"Thank you, darling. I really needed that.. like Really needed that." He huffs out, becoming embarrassed again. He didnt even stutter holding on to your hand. You finish off your food, having some light conversation that came easy to the two of you after last night.

Alastor's broadcast chimed through a nearby radio, "Hellish morning, residents! ~ I'm sure you all had a restful sleep after your nightly activities! Your planned activities for today include ... "

Alastors voice quietly fills the room, announcing some of the exercises Charlie had planned for today. His phrasing made you nervous, as if he knew what you were up to. It also gave you an uncomfortable flashback to a high school P.A. system.

" I should get going then, right? Busy... trying to be redeemed.. and stuff. You know." You slide out of your chair, letting out a nervous chuckle, not seeing his strange reaction to you mentioning redemption. As if he were scared to lose you to heaven. Before you have a chance to look back at him, Lucifer is wrapped around your waist. He shifts to stand into the embrace, as close as he could be. He leaves a hand on the small of you back, and the other on the back of your neck, his clawed fingers entangled in your hair. It takes you a minute to hold him back, just from the shock, but you held him tight, closing your eyes and nuzzling your nose into his hair. That's when you notice how lovely he smelled.. probably an apple scented shampoo. -And how he never flinched to your touch after that night.

♡♡♡

I left this one pretty suggestive, because i haven't really written smut before. I might rewrite this if anyone's interested in it going that route tho!

#hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin #lucifer morningstar x you #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader smut #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin

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half-oz-eddie · 2 months ago

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I do not want to do discourse but I am quite tired so feel free to scroll past this or ignore it idc

First and foremost I do not care if other positivity projects exist. They can exist in unique ways for unique reasons. It's a beautiful thing. I'm sure people love what they do and they're doing it for fun. Personally? I love what I do. A normal amount. And I do it my own way. Kinley Café is my heartbeat and it's always been a project that I deeply enjoy and that I am passionate about. I ask for nothing in return except the chance to touch other people's lives and make them smile by sending out your orders.

I am so comforted by the amount of love and support I receive. It's motivating and has helped me through difficult times. I have been so distracted spreading joy that I've basically breezed through what is usually the most difficult month of my life.

And yet. And yet!! I have been reported as spam so the café does not come up in searches (it's limited/partially shadowbanned I guess you can say. I constantly worry that this affects people getting notified when they receive treats because I want them to know someone is thinking of them. But I have been communicating with Tumblr about it, so don't worry too much). I have received phishing links in DMs and on the order form. And more recently, a password protected blog that hasn't had any activity in 40 days receives nearly a dozen notifications out of the blue because of a months old post circulating as some sort of gotcha, and I find out someone is telling people that I copied an idea (from myself btw) and sent out anons trying to encourage people to call me out over...stealing my own idea?

And I don't wanna hear "they didn't know it was me" because nobody asked me shit! I didn't show anybody any disrespect. In fact, I was being supportive! I showed love! I took the time out to make something because I wanted to continue to encourage the spread the positivity.

And yet, people made accusations even though I was being kind? Do you want a trampoline since you like fucking jumping to conclusions?

KC has been open for FIVE weeks. And I've dealt with all this in a short period of time for absolutely no reason. I've been nothing but kind and supportive of others. I genuinely and sincerely try my best.

I don't wanna let this taint something beautiful or let anything discourage me from doing this again. But I swear to god.....this shit is getting really annoying and bringing out the worst in me. lmao why am I fighting for my life during this little hiatus? I'm dedicating my free time to creating things, and collaborating with others just to spread love and kindness. I don't want anything but peace and quiet.

What's next? Do I have to keep dealing with dumbassery? Or can I go back to sending out treats and going on about my fucking business? Because I do not have time for this. I do not want all this static!!!

I've turned off reblogs. If you want to talk to me privately that's fine but this has been a little overwhelming and I just wanted to get this off my chest.

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ladytamayolover · 1 year ago

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‘ᴍʏ ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ’

An innocent little fluff of fem!readerxKyojuro Rengoku.

premise: They are cute parents with cute kids

“Kyojuro!” You basically screams, running over to your husband. “I thought you would be gone forever.” You cupped his face as he held her close to his chest.

“How is my lovely wife? And our lovely children?” He says, as he ignores the deep cut on his arm. He had just gone in his last mission, ever, after two children, that’s what it took to get this passionate man to retire. He wanted to do so sooner then later, but slayers have had a downfall in numbers recently, but he finally decided he deserved it.

“Natsumi, stop pulling your fathers uniform, it’s going to rip.” You says gently. Your daughter, Natsumi, was pulling at her fathers outfit attempting to get his attention. Natsumi looked just like you, except had Kyojuros eyes. Eyes softening, as Kyojuro looked down at his daughter, scooping her up.

“How are you my dear?” He says as she giggles as he spins her around, before hugging her tightly.

“I’m good Otousan! I made you a drawing! Let me get it.” He puts her down as she scurry’s off. Her long H/C hair bobbing as she runs to the home.

“Kouki is in the garden my love.” You say. Staring at your husband, the warm midday sun shimmering down on you two as he waits for Natsumi to return. “I will go fetch him. He will be very pleased to see you.”

“Kouki can finish playing whatever he’s doing in the garden, let me have a moment with my wife.” Kyojuro says before taking you, to hold you in a tight embrace. His body heat projects from off of him onto you. In such a warm manner everything seems to glow. Everything seems to fade in a gentle, warm, blurry glow. Just him. His arms wrapped around you, being squeezed close to him. it’s all that matters in the second. The moment, of pure silence, quickly touches you, a cold, salty tear runs down your face. How you missed him.

“Otousan! I got the drawing.” Quickly the scurry of your small daughters feet comping closer, thats what drifts you from the moment. Peering down at her art, you truly are amazed. It’s a simple water color drawing, simple, just a flash of warm reds, oranges, and yellows, but even then you are immediately reminded at your husband.

“It’s wonderful Natsumi! I love it!” Kyojuro takes the piece your daughter is waving in his face, “It’s a masterpiece, right my love?”

“Couldn’t be more correct.” You say nodding towards him. Nothing but joy submerging you. “Natsumi, will you please go get your brother?” Calmly leaning down to get closer to eye level with your daughter. She enthusiastically nods and scurry’s away. “She acts so much like you, Kyo.”

“You think?”

“Oh, definitely. She’s loud, enthusiastic, and passionate, and, stubborn.” You say teasingly, as Kyojuros face gets flustered.

“I am not stubborn! But I take the others as compliments and gladly accept them! But I am not stubborn!” He says, louder then usual, but he always speaks loud. Biting your lip so you don’t break out into a laughing fit, you take his face in your palms, kissing his check, so he’s less red from embarrassment, now red from your touch.

“My darling, if you weren’t stubborn you wouldn’t be so persistent about how you aren’t.” You tease, a bit more obvious this time. Deciding he will lose against you, Kyo simply kisses you. Warmth. Suddenly you were drowning in warmth. The aura he gave off was warm, calm, and loving. What you would give to be there with him, like this, all day, each day. And now you can.

“Otousan!” Suddenly the pounding of larger feet, but still small compared to you and kyojuro, hit the ground. Looking over you see a miniature Kyojuro, also known as your son Kouki.

“Kouki, how are you?” Kyojuro says as he gently pats his sons flamy hair.

“I am good! I have been practicing with the training sword you got for me, I am ready to become a slayer! Just like you!” He beams, your son was more reserved, sweet, but liked to experience life a bit more quietly. Unlike his father and younger sister. Though, when he was with his father, he was louder, more impulsive, and very bold. The affects your husband made on everyone’s lives for the better would forever amaze you. How could someone be so perfect?

“I am sure you will be ready to train a bit more seriously soon. Let’s go see you in action then shall we?” Marching off the two identical men went off to a clearing in your property. Noticing a slight tug on your kimono you look down to see your daughter.

“Okaasan, can we make Sakura Mochi?” Natsumi was starring up at uou with her large, flame eyes, you could melt at the gaze of your daughter.

“How could I say no? Let’s go make some and then watch your father and brother train.”

#kny au #kny fluff #kny kyojuro #kny x you #kny fanfic #kny rengoku #kny x y/n #kny x reader #rengoku x y/n #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #rengoku fluff #rengoku x you #rengoku kyōjurō #short story #i just love this so much #im proud of it

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octuscle · 11 months ago

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If a nerd in highschool suddenly gained muscular body, without an effect on his brains or mental state

How quickly would he actually, naturally change? Maybe the attention gives him an ego?

Or maybe the jocks want to be his friend

How much of a jock could the nerd become?

Project diary, entry 1 (Friday)

My name is Salomon Miller. I live in Providence, Connecticut and am a senior in high school. I wouldn't say I have any real hobbies, but I am interested in art history, architecture, astronomy and geology. And many other things. I read a lot and actually everything I can get my hands on. But my passion is sociology and political science. That's also one of the reasons why I'm writing this diary. Starting next semester, I will be studying at Stanford and have a full scholarship, which is linked to my participation in a project. The Department of Sociology will use my person to investigate the effects of serious physical changes on the psyche and behavior. I won't find out in advance what the physical changes are, but the changes were set in motion with the help of an injection that I received today.

My parents support me in the project. My father is a lawyer specializing in environmental law, my mother is a neurologist and psychiatrist. Neither of them understand why I chose to study sociology, but as they both studied at Stanford, they accept my plans. They don't have many options either, they are both in Europe for a long time. My mother has a research semester at the University Hospital of Heidelberg and my father is currently representing a client in a lengthy case at the European Court of Justice. I've known this situation since I was a child. I'm used to having our gardener or Consuela, our housekeeper, as my social contact. That's not meant in a negative way, I love my parents, even if our contact is often less intensive. This has taught me a certain independence, which I really appreciate.

Today is the Friday evening before the last weekend of the summer vacation. The date was chosen deliberately for the injection. This gives me until Monday morning to get used to the upcoming transformation. At the moment, I feel nothing more than a certain tiredness. Normally I would go for a long walk or read something. But I'm just exhausted and will go to bed early.

Project diary, entry 2 (Saturday)

I woke up at around 03:00 in the morning. I was scared to death. I was almost strangled by my pyjamas. I tried to rip the top off my body. I tore it completely to shreds. I was no longer wearing my pyjama bottoms, which were already lying in tatters in my bed. It was clear to me that the transformation had begun. And a look in the bathroom mirror gave me certainty. My whole body was twitching, just like I'd seen in a Hulk movie. Except I didn't turn green. But my muscles literally grew. In fact, little else has changed. I am still clearly me. Even though my neck was already wider than my head, which is why I almost suffocated in my pyjamas, this was still my face. My hairstyle unchanged. My eyesight was also the same. Fortunately, the head can't get any more muscular, the glasses still fit. My thoughts were running amok in my head, I can't describe the feeling, especially as the cramps didn't stop and the muscles continued to grow. I lay down on my bed and tried to relax. At around 04:30 the cramps subsided and I fell asleep again from exhaustion.

When I woke up at around 09:45, I was lying sticky and sweaty in a dried up puddle of semen. Obviously I had ejaculated once or several times. After getting up, I went to the bathroom to assess the change. According to the scales, I now weigh 120 kilograms (I assume that documentation in metric units is more scientific), my height is unchanged at 182 cm. What has actually changed is the length of my penis, which is now 18 cm when flaccid. I have not yet been able to measure the length when erect. In fact, I would have thought that the sight of a muscular man would somehow excite me. But my head has been working like crazy since I got up, I suppose my blood is needed in my brain and is not available for an erection. The shower was still an incredible experience. My body feels great. I had no idea what muscles felt like. However, I realized while showering that I had a problem: None of my clothes would fit me anymore. And my father is smaller than me and, like I was until yesterday, is also more of an ectomorph. My only hope was that José, our gardener, who is probably almost as muscular as me and about my height, had some of his clothes in the dirty laundry. He and Consuela both don't work at the weekend and I didn't want to invade his room.

I was actually lucky and managed to find a pair of jeans, a jockstrap, a T-shirt and a pair of tennis socks in the laundry. Everything smelled very unpleasant and at first I thought about washing it first and then putting it on, but then decided against it. Instead, I went to the mall as I was to buy something new to wear. There is an expense account from the project, which is presumably intended for exactly these cases. Shopping really was an ordeal. As usual, I went to Macy's at Providence Place Mall first, but I realized pretty quickly that I wasn't going to find anything in my size there besides clothes for gym class. Then I went to Abercrombie & Fitch for the first time. The sales assistants literally pounced on me. The XXL T-shirts fitted reasonably well, my thighs were too big for the jeans, but shorts were fine. Fortunately, the weather forecast for the next few days is still very good.

Even though I was extremely focused on quickly working through my shopping list and getting back home, I didn't miss the effect I had on my body. Not only did the sales clerks pay much more attention to me, people turned to me, nodded appreciatively at me and greeted me. It all made me extremely uncomfortable. I was glad when I got home again.

Project diary, entry 3 (Sunday)

I'm not really a religious person, but I value the institution of the church as a culturally integrating entity. So I probably would have actually gone to church, but I would have been very uncomfortable in shorts and low-cut t-shirts that exposed my chest. So I spent the day making up my bed, doing the laundry and getting ready for the first day of school after the vacations. My story for teachers and classmates will be that I spent the summer in Europe with my parents and discovered my enthusiasm for the gym out of boredom. I have no idea whether this story will be accepted. As much as possible, I completed the course enrollment online. Because I really have no idea what I can do with this body, I signed up for boxing and wrestling. The alternative would have been football, but I have no experience at all with team and ball sports. Swimming used to be the sport I hated the least, but a few laps in our pool today have shown me that my body has become less streamlined. Although I have a lot more strength, my times are worse than usual.

I have signed up again for the astronomy and chess clubs. Apart from that, I thought it made sense to leave myself enough time to be able to react to unexpected events.

My first real test was my Sunday video conference with my parents. As I can't hide anything, I decided to take the offensive and had the conversation in nothing but my swimming trunks by the pool. Even though I had no real idea of my parents' reaction, I was actually taken aback. My mother scientifically dissected the situation and said that my body was probably more efficient now and therefore I would have a benefit gain. My father disagreed, as he assumed that a bulkier body had a worse ecological balance. In the beginning, I tried to approach this project as objectively as possible. But then I couldn't help but start crying. I was afraid of tomorrow. And my parents actually showed something like emotion and compassion.

Project diary, entry 4 (Monday)

I was expecting something like running the gauntlet. But the first day at school was actually relatively unproblematic. Most of my friends at least pretended to believe my story about my stay in Europe. The teachers were not surprised either and largely went straight back to business as usual. The only noticeable reaction came from the musclemen and jocks. I have the feeling that they never took their eyes off me. When there was eye contact, I received a respectful nod. Otherwise, I felt a bit like a foreign lion approaching a pride of lions. Every muscle of the alpha animals and their water carriers was tense and ready to strike if I got too close to their watering hole. I'm looking forward to my first PE lesson tomorrow.

Project diary, entry 6 (Tuesday)

While the morning was more of a triumph, the afternoon was a debacle. The subject matter in chemistry and physics suits me very well, everything is very interesting. There shouldn't be any significant challenges in Spanish lessons either. But the new Spanish teacher is also an advantage here. Based on her first impression, she probably thought I was a hollow nut. She didn't expect me to have already read Don Quixote in the original and in the contemporary Spanish transcription during the vacations.

I embarrassed myself to the bone in gym class. Of course, after my contrived lie, everyone assumed that I knew my way around the gym like the back of my hand. And I don't even know how to hold a barbell properly. Interestingly, no one laughed at me or anything. On the contrary, they all assumed that I'm extremely underchallenged and told me that I should just train for myself and that I should join them next week after I've learned the basics. But maybe that was just polite contempt.

In any case, I spent the whole afternoon and evening at home watching all the gym tutorials I could get hold of and reading everything I could find about bodybuilding, nutrition and supplements. That's why I skipped the first session of the chess club. But I had to prioritize.

Project diary, entry 7 (Wednesday)

Theory is good, practice is better. That's why I went straight to the gym this morning at 06:00. The school janitor who opened the door for me said appreciatively that my discipline was paying off. The big boys are always the first to arrive in the morning. If only he knew. But in fact I was lucky, I was alone on the training area until 07:00 and by then I had familiarized myself with most of the machines I had learned how they worked in theory and had also developed a feeling for the weights I was able to lift.

The second visitor to the gym after me was the quarterback of the football team. Stephen and I have been at the same school since first grade. Of course I know him. But of course he has no idea who I am. We've never had classes together and someone like me is of course a nobody to him. Or was a nobody to him. Now I was his biggest rival, the only classmate who had bigger biceps and a broader chest than him. And being the alpha male that he was, he sought conflict directly. As far as I know, the jocks and Himbo's call it "cock comparison". Wherever I trained, he did the same afterwards with more weight. After training, he waited for me in front of the shower and said that he had already heard about me. I was the Spanish exchange student. I looked at him questioningly. "Well, the one who had that book with the windmills and the crazy knight at school. The linebacker goes to your Spanish course. Clever to take Spanish as a Spaniard," he said. I shook his hand, introduced myself as Salomon and told him we were in the same kindergarten. He returned the offered hand with a fist bump and said that I must have mistaken him. He had never been to Spain. But I spoke very good English for a Spaniard.

I always prefer to spend my lunch break alone. I like to read or just relax. This time, however, Stephen waved me straight over to him and his boys. He introduced me as Sal and said I should tell him how I liked it in the USA. At first, I wanted to start comparing European democracies with the US, especially in light of the rise of populist tendencies. But then I didn't think that was a good idea and just said that I thought the USA was the greatest country in the world. Stephen gave me a fistbump and all his buddies followed suit. Before English class after lunch, my friend Frederick passed me and said somewhat reproachfully whether I would always eat with the football team now. I laughed and gave him a fist bump and said that I would only eat as long as my primate research project lasted.

Project diary, entry 8 (Friday)

Yesterday was a wild day! I went to wrestling practice. Everyone but me has taken wrestling as a sport since they were in high school. I'm the only one who had no experience at all. Sure, I looked at and read through everything I could find to prepare. But without any practical experience, I really made a fool of myself. Thank God the coach really understood me. He said that he was sorry that bodybuilding wasn't a school subject. And then he gave me tips on how to pose properly. Damn, when I stood in front of the mirror in just my underpants and he touched my muscles to get them in the right position, I got a boner. And he obviously noticed. He then hugged me from behind and massaged my nipples. It was a feeling I'd never experienced before. I started to moan. He pulled me close to him. I felt his hard-on against my ass. And then I had my first orgasm outside of my bathroom. I was so embarrassed. And it was so great! Since then, I've really just wanted to make my coach proud. I've spent every spare minute at the gym, signed up to the sports club to do more wrestling and spent a small fortune on sportswear. I'm afraid I have a real crush for the first time in my life.

Today I got a telling off from my friends from the astronomy club. I missed the meeting and no longer see them during school breaks. I admit it, I'm neglecting my old social environment. But I have to find my way in my new role. Or rather, I have to find this new role first. Tonight I have a date with a couple of guys from the sports club. We're going to the gym first and then want to watch football in the sports bar. I'm a bit excited because I've tended to spend my weekend evenings alone in front of the computer so far. Now I have to think about what I'm going to wear.

Project diary, entry 9 (Sunday)

Dude, I might be drunk. For the second night in a row. The weekend is one big party. Last night at the sports bar was great. It was a little hard at first to pretend I knew anything about football. But after one beer I didn't give a shit. At some point, someone bought me some booze. Because his team had won or something. I was completely out of it and had to puke at some point. I can't really remember, but I'm afraid I didn't hit the toilet bowl. One of the boys then took me home with him. I really wasn't able to find my way home. Apparently, at some point I invited the boys over for a pool party on Saturday. And it escalated a little bit. Fuck, I probably have to spend the rest of the day tidying and cleaning. But for now I'm going to bed. After I've thrown up.

Project diary, entry 10 (Monday)

I'm a bit embarrassed about my behavior at the weekend. When I woke up on Sunday, a few of the boys were still snoring by the pool. And a few of them were making breakfast on the barbecue. I didn't really get around to cleaning. And then I overslept today too. Consuela suddenly came into my room and asked if my parents knew what had happened here. I gave her 100 dollars from my emergency expense fund and asked her not to reveal anything. She and Raoul actually did a great job. When I got home from astronomy club late at night, everything was pretty tidy again. The two of them are real treasures!

Mondays are not sports days. History, English, math. I admit that math has never been my hobbyhorse. And my teacher has made no secret of the fact that he thinks I'm an overprivileged white boy. When I couldn't answer a question to his satisfaction today, he said something along the lines of "Muscleheads are just all airheads". The whole back row started throwing paper balls at the teacher and hooting in protest. I have never received such expressions of sympathy.

Between school and the astronomy club, I went to the optician and got some contact lenses. Glasses are just so annoying when you're doing sport. And then I went to the hairdresser. I like my haircut. My hair is longer at the nape of my neck than at the sides. I had a photo of Coach with me and said that I wanted to look like this. Hehehe, the hairdresser said that he couldn't take away my muscles. In fact, I'm bigger than Coach. The hairdresser also shaved my beard. I haven't even written that yet, I have the feeling that my beard and body hair are growing faster and thicker. A bush is growing under my armpits and in my pubic area...

The astronomy club was terribly exhausting. I wanted to concentrate on the Jupiter-Venus conjunction. We had the best conditions to observe it today. But the nerds were all just asking questions about what exactly it was like on vacation, how I trained, how I changed my diet. I prepared myself for these kinds of questions. But every one of my answers was scientifically dissected. If it goes on like this, I'd rather look at the stars alone.

Project diary, entry 11 (Thursday)

The last few days have been pretty exciting, which is why I didn't get around to writing the diary. After training on Tuesday I went to the showers. Not all the guys on the team do this, but I just don't feel comfortable in the sweat with a bit of Axe under my arms. I also urgently needed to clear my balls and cock of the hair that was growing and shave my chest. I still can't get used to how hairy I get. In any case, it all took longer than with the other boys and then I was alone with Chuck in the shower. And suddenly Chuck knelt in front of me and sucked my cock. Without warning. I had prepared myself for intercourse in theory and in practice.

In any case, I've been a bit confused ever since. I mean, I have a crush on Coach. And Coach also got a boner when he helped me pose. I mean, he must think I'm hot too. But Chuck says he's had a crush on me ever since he and I spent Friday night together. The night I don't remember. But I'm writing all mixed up...

The blowjob in the shower was definitely sooooo hot. Even though it didn't last long. Boy, I shot my load into Chuck's mouth like that. My cum was leaking out of both corners of his mouth. He French kissed me with my cum in his mouth. Dude, I'm getting hard just thinking about it. And then he grinned and said that edging wasn't really my thing. I had no idea what he meant. In any case, I kissed him again and started wanking his cock. I was far too excited to suck him off myself. Chuck moaned and started twitching. Then he pulled me against him and wedged his cock between our stomach muscles. And then blew his load. Bloody hell! I don't know how long we showered together and soaped each other up.

In any case, I then started to gain practical experience with sexual intercourse. Chuck spent the night with me the day before yesterday and yesterday. The first time we fucked was really awkward. Chuck also asked if I was still a virgin. I said no, of course. But I'm sure he realized that it was the first time I'd fucked someone. And also that I was being fucked. In bed and in the hot tub. The first time I blew him was Wednesday in the school bathroom. We both just had a lot of pressure on our balls before civics. Shit, I'd never thought about sex before, now I can't get sex out of my head.

Practice is coming up. I just jerked off to the idea of forming a sandwich with Coach and Chuck in the shower. That would be so hot!

Project diary, entry 12 (Sunday)

Shit, I love my life. The parties this weekend were so hot. I mean, sure I love Chuck, but my dick has too much energy for one man. And Chuck gets off on me fucking other men too. As long as he's the only one who gets to fuck me. It's a point of honor, of course!

Before I go to bed now, I went to the gym again. To burn off the alcohol. And prepare my muscles for a tough week. I have my first wrestling tournament next Friday. And I've promised Steph-bruh, the quarterback, that I'll drop by football training. The hollow nut still calls me wetback, but has now understood that I'm not Spanish or Latino. And then I have to chat with my mentor from Stanford again. I don't know if sociology is really my subject. Chuck wants to study business administration. He's hoping for an athletic scholarship. Maybe I'm up for that too.

Inspiration found @redneckmusclehead

#male tf #muscle tf #jock tf #nerd to jock #nerd to hunk

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casper-spills · 1 year ago

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𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒜𝓇𝑒 𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒪𝒻 𝒴𝑜𝓊...

ᴘɪʟᴇ 1 ~ ᴘɪʟᴇ 2 ~ ᴘɪʟᴇ 3

ᴘɪʟᴇ 1

Cards: Knight of Swords, Six of Swords, Three of Wands (reversed), The Magician, Ten of Coins, Eight of Swords (reversed), The Sun (reversed), Five of Coins (reversed)

They are jealous because they think that you're incredibly capable of having a sucessful life. They think that you are ambitious, action oriented, driven and a fast thinker. They also notice how adaptable you are and how much you change as a person especially when this change has something to do with certain baggage or traumas you might have. You're not easliy put down or effected by what others project onto you, making you unstoppable. Once you put your mind to something, absolutely nothing and nobody can stop you. You have already manifested your dreams.

They are jealous because they have a goal in mind that they just can't seem to put into action like you can. They may have a similar upbringing to you or they just relate to you deeply and because of this, they get frustrated with themselves when they don't have the same resilience when life brings them down. They wonder how you're always so persistant and motivated even after what you've been through. They can't seem to get themsleves out of this negative energy.

Your physical assets: Unique appearance, birthmarks or scars, appear younger than you are, good nose, flashing smile, rosy complexion or red hair, broad shoulders or slim hips, lean figure

Good traits you have: Adaptable, always changing, open minded, truth seeker, passionate, explorer, unafraid of failure, good communicator, curious, knowledgable

ᴘɪʟᴇ 2

Cards: Seven of Swords (reversed), Two of Wands, King of Swords, The Fountain, Knight of Wands, Three of Swords, Three of Cups (reversed), Two of Coins, Six of Wands (reversed), Three of Wands, Knight of Cups, Five of Cups (reversed)

They are jealous of you because they know that you are very intelligent and put together. You are in control of your life and you have a certain power that this person cannot even compare to. You might be the kind of person that leads a group or a team. You might be an extrovert and people might gravitate towards you. They know that you are organised,intelligent emotionally as well as academically, open minded, energetic and passionate. This person has also noticed that you don’t really bring others into your problems. You don’t like to talk about your personal drama within this circle and nobody suspects it except maybe thus person. Perhaps this person was once someone you trusted with this information.

This person might be an ex friend or even ex lover or just somebody that you have cut ties with. It seems that there are others that have cut ties with them. Perhaps a third party in the love triangle or this might just be a friend group of three. They’re jealous because the third party has chosen you over them. They prioritised you over them and started to pay more attention to you. This person might try to bring you down by name calling and jabbing at your ego.

Your physical assets: Half smile, high forehead, inquisitive eyes, very tall, long torso, shapely legs, broad shoulders and hips

Good traits you have: Intimidating, calm cool and detached demeanour, a little awkward in a charming way, optimistic, philosophical, responsible, generous, tolerant

ᴘɪʟᴇ 3

Cards: Strength (reversed), Temperance, Six of Coins, The Fountain (reversed), Eight of Coins, Knight of Cups, The Tower, The Moon (reversed), Five of Coins (reversed), King of Wands (reversed), Seven of Wands (reversed), The World (reversed), Page of Coins (reversed), Ace of Coins

You and this person are rivals and they are jealous of you because you have taken measures to get what you want and it’s working. You are both interested in the same person romantically and they know that you are a ‘sweetheart’ in everyone’s eyes. You wear your emotions on your sleeve, you’re generous and patient except in this particular case. You have decided that now is the time to be impulsive and hasty so you’ve started to use your assets to charm your person.

They know that you’re seen as very feminine, almost as if you’re a princess in need, a damsel in distress, and your knight in shining armour wants to come and save the day. You’ve decided to get close with them, opening up to them and talking about your vulnerabilities and your insecurities. They’re definitely very jealous of you because you have them wrapped around your finger and they can’t possibly compete with someone like you.

Your physical assets: Large round eyes, small and delicate ears, dark hair and eyes, doe eyed, curly hair, symmetrical features, distinct delicate neck, strong posture, distinct voice/manner of speaking

Good traits you have: good communicator, adaptable, witty, quick learner, easily express your feelings, good at conceptualising ideas, organised, analytical

✧ 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖐 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖋𝖔𝖗 200 𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖘! ✧

Special thanks to @miawiraclz @artscapismsworld @miraclekay97 @slashercult @swordoftheseeker @visualbutterflysworld @rainychibikko @honnuey @livelythoughts

#pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card #pick one #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #free tarot readings #tarot reading #free tarot #tarot witch #tarot cards #casper spills #Spotify

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skinnypaleangryperson · 10 months ago

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My heart is broken over this gray world and this life dedicated to slavery by selfish people who are just playing sheep differently taking control of me and paying me so little that I can't even have a decent personal life to make up for crushed creative dreams. I hurt myself with my own imagination and how vivid it is, the TV shows that I would have liked to work on an extended with my passion and ideas, the artistry the lights, the emotion the storytelling, the storyboards and the artistic lighting that I work on every day simply because it's all that makes sense to me. These images, thoughts, storytelling, emotions, everything where I pour all of my desperation of what I wish the humanity and connection that my life would have into a couple of iPad drawings every day in the corner of an empty bedroom.

It comes across as melodramatic posting about it online, but if you were to live a day in my life with having nothing except for my raw isolated imagination in such a repetitive, soulless, compassionless gray world, where I have no connection to anyone anymore, and no one that I can share anything with and convinced I will never have a true friendship or relationship with anyone outside of baseline tolerance at best again, on top of failed motherhood and a failed creative career, you would be crying out on the internet every second you got the chance to. I haven't wanted to live this life for the longest time that I could remember, and I will never want to again. In a sense, thank God nobody cares and that I can just post about it at whatever whim that I want throughout the miserable day, because this is the only place left where I can still feel somewhat human, and where I can just be as unashamedly detailed about every single depressed and morbidly despairing thought, share some of my work, even if it's only to myself just to prove that it even exists outside of my own sick corner of the world, and generally to feel seen for a little while, Even if only by myself, which is what me and the majority of people in working class America have, with no way out, because we're not "special", And if you have an artistic vision it will break your heart more than anything else.

I especially love this scene that I came up with it during my on maladaptive daydreaming lately with my family with BoJack and Samantha and Harper. The storylines that I come up with his family and with our girls are always incredibly vivid every single day and they both still simultaneously break my heart, because I know that the vision that I share in the passion that I have and my want to share in storytelling will only ever be an ongoing sickly headspace in the back of my head while the gray reality of a life that has long since over if it ever began goes on around me without change. The beauty of the family life that I wanted to have on top of the creative dreams that I have that has projected itself into the muddled mental disorder of maladaptive daydreaming of my beautiful family with Bojack both is the only thing that keeps me going throughout the empty slave hours of my life, which is so lonely that most people I'm convinced would not be able to live it, well at the same time fills me with such a beauty and meaning taking it in that I couldn't ever let it go.

#bojack #maladaptive daydreaming #🫡#Lost my mind #I mostly just use social media to grieve these days while I continue to live the graveyard of my life in reality #My life failed beyond comprehension in every possible way

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ariaste · 4 months ago

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Hi! Regarding your recent post about how you taught your writing workshops, I was reading through it and was feeling very inspired (you sound amazing as a teacher), but I also really wish I had a community like that. Since I'm currently focusing on an original work, I was wondering how do you go about finding fellow writers/betas that you can trust with work and form a mutual writing relationship with? I've looked for and joined many communities like Nanowrimo and discord servers over the years, yet nothing seemed to click? So yeah sorry for the bother but I was wondering if you had any advice :D

Re: "you sound amazing as a teacher" -- aw thanks! I was an INCREDIBLE teacher. That might sound kind of vain to say with so much assurance, but it truly was the first time in my life where I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was doing a really, really fucking good job. (And that's WITH my anxiety, so like. Oof.) I just set out on purpose to be the kind of teacher I always longed to have when I was an apprentice writer, and that got me most of the way there. The rest was just spite for all the shitty creative writing classes I'd had before LOL. I'd already seen all the mistakes myself from the other side, so I just came up with better ways of doing things. And then day one of class, I had them all do a self-assessment of what they wanted to learn in the class, what fears they had, etc, and I was really struck by how universal the sense of insecurity and under-confidence was in all their replies. So that just confirmed what I already suspected, to wit: my ONE JOB (and again, this was a "writing and publishing scifi/fantasy" class) was just to hammer in the idea of, "Your ideas ARE cool, the things you think are cool ARE IN FACT COOL, you ARE allowed to write about queer dragons or whatever and that's an awesome thing to be doing and I'm HERE FOR IT." If the one thing a student takes from a creative writing class is more confidence in their writing and more trust in themself, then the goal has been achieved. If a teacher says anything else, we're verging on snobbery (Iowa Writer's Workshop can go get fucked btw)

ANYWAY.

Finding a beta you click with is a lot like finding a friend or a romantic partner who you click with. That is: there's a lot of fish in the sea, but not all of them are going to be right for you, and sometimes it takes a while to find that special person. It sounds like you're doing all of the right things, though, so just keep at it.

That said, a couple lifehacks: do NOT talk about your work with the vibes of "hey, i'm looking for a beta, does anyone want to beta for me?" because (at least in my experience) those acquaintances often turn out to be sort of transactional and shallow -- think of people who walk into any situation like "hey will you be my girlfriend? i'm looking for a girlfriend. do you want to date me as my girlfriend??? will someone please be my girlfriend?" rather than trying to make genuine connections with people as *people* versus the role that the girlfriend-seeker wants to put them in. (Exception to this: Fandom-specific servers where you are looking for a beta for a fic. Then it's less weird to ask out loud for a beta, because you've already established a mutual shared interest/passion. It's not cold-calling in the same way, you get me??)

Instead, aim to project vibes of "I'm having so much fun playing in my sandbox :) I am having so much fun by myself, maybe too much fun in fact [psychically broadcasting that the fun is in such abundance around here that there would be enough to share if someone happened to wander past...]" Post about your work, talk about it in public, give people little excerpts or tidbits you're proud of. Look for people who express interest in the sort of fun you're having, and then start up conversations about it. Look for people who are having the sort of fun of their own that you're interested in, compliment them on it and ask questions, and build a relationship. (If they're writing the sort of thing you're into, chances are that you're writing the sort of thing they're into. Not always, but frequently!)

Sometimes it is possible to take an existing friend who is interested in your work (or at least supportive of it and loving of you) and kind of train them into being a great beta reader even if they themselves are not really a writer. It takes a lot of self-knowledge of what you're looking for and what you need in terms of feedback, it takes some patience and trust in your relationship with them, it takes the ability to negotiate boundaries and ask really good questions, and it takes a friend who is game to try and who likes the sort of things you like. (Personal recommendation: Don't try to get feedback from someone who isn't even interested in the genre that you're writing. A dedicated literary fiction fan is probably going to have a REAL hard time appreciating your gruesome scifi horror book for what it is, and if they're not familiar with the genre conventions, their suggestions are predisposed to be kind of Weird and Not Right For What You're Writing. Accept their love and support, but also accept that neither of you are going to have a good time if they try to beta for you.)

Trying to build relationships in an open community like a forum or a Discord server is a good way to cast a wide net, but all deep lasting relationships happen on a single line between you and the other person, so look for opportunities to talk to people one-on-one in DMs to build that kind of creative intimacy.

It takes time! But if you're open about the things that are bringing you joy and you're talking about them and setting them out in plain sight, the right people will eventually be drawn to your joy/fun like moths to a flame. Humans cannot resist that shit.

If you've been doing that and it's still not working, check in with yourself -- is your project actually bringing you joy, or are you going through the motions? Readjust, reorient yourself, try again. Lean into it. Go hard or go home. If you're really truly genuinely having fun by yourself, then your eventual readers will too.

If you're doing all THAT and it's STILL not working (that is, if people are expressing initial interest but you can't hold their attention and they wander off once they read your work), then that's a signal that you've got a tension problem.

GOOD LUCK. You will find your people eventually, just keep going! :)

#writing advice #writing #beta reading

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depravitycentral · 1 year ago

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Yandere! Nobunaga Hazama General Profile

Yandere! Nobunaga Hazama x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, violence, murder, stalking, infantilization, mentions of non-con, mentions of masturbation, mentions of nonconsensual affection, Nobunaga breaks your ankles, Nobunaga is creepy and gross and perpetually horny, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

DARLING PROFILE:

Stubborn

In general, Nobunaga likes a fiery darling. There’s something incredibly endearing about the way they get this glint in their eye, the way they refuse to back down from a challenge or a belief.

He likes how spirited they are, and frankly this is what initially catches his attention – his darling has to have spunk of some kind, and while he doesn’t see it this way, there’s a part of him that wants to bend that stubbornness, to make his darling stubborn and hardheaded for everyone except him.

He wants to be the sole person they agree with, lovingly gazing at him and nodding at every little thing he says. He likes the idea of he and his darling being a team, being totally, completely in sync, and so while eh initially does enjoy this facet to their personality, if they show too much when they’re trapped with him in their new ‘home’, Nobunaga isn’t especially pleased.

He does, in general, want to be the exception to everything for his darling – he wants to be treated differently, specially, as his darling’s one and only confidant. And so, Nobunaga loves this about his darling – the more passionate they are about their beliefs and opinions, the better.

Just don’t be getting too many ideas about refusing him or what he believes – you can be stubborn, but not to him.

Confident

Similarly to being stubborn, a confident darling is an attraction to Nobunaga, but only to a certain degree.

He likes someone who is sure of themselves, but some sick part of him wants his darling to have this need for validation from others, to yearn for someone to compliment them and tell them they’re enough. Maybe it’s a projection of his own feelings – he himself needs someone to validate him, to supply him with love and sweet words to quell any insecurities he has, and he likes the idea of his darling filling that void for him.

He wants to fulfill his darling’s needs, and for them to fulfill his own, and so to have a darling who is outwardly confident but secretly needs him would be perfect.

Just the idea alone is enough to get his heart (and cock) swelling, a sense of pride settling in his chest because his darling obviously needs him.

They need him to function and feel good about themselves, because he can offer them something no one else can – honest, genuine love, and he’ll give them everything he’s got and more.

So much more.

Honest

Nobunaga doesn’t tolerate liars. Despite being a criminal, a mass murderer, a monster, he likes to think he has some semblance of a moral code, and lying goes directly against the shambled morality he has left. And so, a darling who only tells the truth aside from a white lie here or there would be perfect for him.

He likes the idea that his darling will never deceive him, that he’ll only ever get the honest truth from them. It’s a comfort, something that settles the raging possessiveness he feels for them; he likes that if he were to ever ask, he knows his darling would honestly tell him if another man was bothering them, if the man spoke to them, hurt them, touched them.

He makes him feel secure that his darling would never lie to him, but Nobunaga is nothing if not hypocritical; when it comes to him, his darling really can’t tell the truth unless they want to be ignored, condescendingly dismissed, even treated as if they’re lying.

He can’t believe his darling when they say they don’t love him, if only because it can’t possibly be true. He can’t believe them when they say they don’t want to spend the rest of their life with him, if only because he knows for a fact that you do, he’s sure of it.

He doesn’t like it when his darling ‘lies’ to him like this, so it’s best to just say what he wants to hear – tell him he’s handsome, that you love him, that of course, you want to sleep with him, and he’ll be all sunshine and smiles, giving you that warbly grin while he exhales shakily and traces your lips with his finger.

You’re just so perfect, after all.

Homebody

It’s not that Nobunaga would dislike someone who is more active and often out of the house – he doesn’t mind too terribly much.

Rather, it’s the consequences of his darling being more inclined to stay home; it means they come into contact with others less, being in their presence less, having less interaction with men.

Nobunaga enjoys this specific trait because it feeds his possessiveness. He knows his darling doesn’t meet men very often, meaning they aren’t talking to anyone in a romantic sense and therefore aren’t getting their heart stolen away by some irrelevant civilian, someone who could never offer them as much protection and devotion as the swordsman can.

He likes knowing that they aren’t out there showing off to strangers, that they really only leave the house when absolutely necessary. It limits the chances of them getting hurt, of them catching someone’s eye, of them doing anything, really. It’s a comfort to him, and it’ll make the transition to living with him so much easier.

After all, his darling won’t be allowed outside of the house (why would they ever want to leave?) nor will they be allowed to interact with anyone besides himself and possibly a few Troupe members (why would they want any other people in their life?).

He’s fully convinced that his darling being a homebody is a sign that they’re soulmates, perfect for one another in every way. It must be fate; what else could explain the draw he feels towards them, the unbridled yearning and desperation that makes his chest ache every time they aren’t in his line of sight?

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Delusional

Nobunaga is, for a like of a better term, completely out of touch with reality where your relationship is concerned.

His views on the world and morality are already skewed, what with being in the Troupe and regularly murdering others, but at some point over the years of violence and adrenaline, a few screws too many have gotten loose in his head. His conscience is all but gone - the connections and the little voice in the back of his head narrating his days and feelings going silent.

His days are full of death and comradery with his fellow Spiders (though that list is almost entirely exclusive to Uvogin), and so once you walk into his life, someone lovely and warm and beautiful and perfect for him in every way, suddenly his world is shifting focus. His already warped sense of reality comes to light as he begins realizing how wonderful you are, how happy you make him, how badly you need him.

Nobunaga is of the genuine belief that as his feelings for you grow, so do yours as well – the concept that you aren’t as madly, deeply in love as him is something that doesn’t even cross the swordsman’s mind.

There’s simply no way that you could ever not be as utterly obsessed as he is, that you couldn’t be as happy and giddy when you’re around him, that you don’t want to spend every waking moment of the rest of your life wrapped in his arms, the slightly scratchy fabric of his kimono rubbing against your skin as he kisses you and whispers into your ear that he loves you, you’re so damn perfect and every inch of you is mine.

He truly, honestly believes that the feelings brewing in his chest for you as just as readily and intensely returned by you, and as time goes on this belief will only further. Nobunaga has a rather nasty habit of blowing absolutely everything you say, do, think, and feel way out of proportion, reading into everything he possibly can to search for what it could mean, to morph it into some declaration of your love for him, some sign that you want him to take you way, that you want him him him.

He’s never been the absolute brightest, but when he’s around you (with or without your knowledge), it’s almost unconscious the way he notices every little thing about you. He’s wondering if you’re reading through your old text conversations with him when you’re dinking around on your phone (just the thought makes him giddy, because he regularly spends hours pouring through every single text you’ve sent, analyzing and imagining your voice speaking the words instead, sighing like some lovestruck teenage girl as he imagines the way you must be glued to your phone, eagerly awaiting his responses because you just can’t stand a second without him).

He’s wondering whether you’re wishing he could be the one to shave your perfect body for you when you’re humming to yourself in the hot shower (it terrifies the living shit out of him to see you with a razor, if only because he’s so scared that you’ll hurt yourself, that you’ll slice something open and bleed and die and he won’t be there to save you, but if he were the one wielding the sharp object, then the samurai wouldn’t mind so much. After all, getting to run his hands over the expanse of your calves, kissing the freshly smoothed skin, sending a teasing lick to the arch of your ankle as the odd after flavor of the shaving cream dances on his tongue is enough to get him shivering, pink staining his cheeks as he gulps harshly, the fabric of his kimono doing very little to hide the steadily growing bulge below the belt).

He reads into everything, believing each little action you make is a cry for his attention, like you want him to be thinking of you, looking at you and dreaming of you, and in a lot of ways Nobunaga finds that incredibly endearing, how someone so sweet and precious like you could have such naughty intentions.

(Especially where your more intimate moments are concerned – you’re changing out of your work clothes and into your casual, relaxing clothes? Obviously you must want him to be staring from outside the window, your supple curves looking drool worthy as you move in ways he’s sure are designed to seduce him, your hips swaying and ass presented oh so perfectly as you dig through your drawers, the oversized sweatshirt just barely covering your upper thighs that would fit oh so perfectly around his head…)

And even once he’s stolen you away, permanently relocated you so that you stay by his side for the rest of your life, the delusions won’t stop. If anything, they become stronger, because he knows you must be happy with him, that your tears and screaming are just you trying to express how happy you are, how overjoyed and overwhelmed you are that someone cares so deeply for you that they’re willing to go this far for you, and can he really blame you? Can he blame you for being ecstatic to be with him?

(Your desperate pleas and begs for him to please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone, please I can’t stay here forever are certainly convincing, but you’ve always been such a little minx, a good actor, talented at seducing him to get exactly what you want, and oh baby, shhh, stop crying, Daddy knows what you need – shh, shh, it’s okay, he’s got you, just slip those cute little panties to the side and I’ll make it all better…)

He’s in too deep, and no matter how hard you fight, cry, scream, kick, or even try to ignore him, Nobunaga will just never learn – how can he, when he truly, honestly believes that he’s right?

How can he even entertain the notion that you’re unhappy when you’re made for him?

Patronizing

In a lot of ways, Nobunaga views you as having the abilities of a baby. Of course, he’s more than aware that you’re a grown woman, an adult with a dignified, captivating personality, a body worthy of worship and certainly worthy of nights with just his hand and imagination to work with, but he’s also more than aware of all the areas you don’t quite seem capable enough to deal with yourself.

You’re weak to him, incredibly so, fragile and dainty and in such desperate need of protection that it’s almost laughable. If he wasn’t so head over heels for you, he might even find you pathetic, your survival skills dismal at best.

But he is just that in love with you, and so Nobunaga has absolutely no problem with rising to the occasion, of answering your non-existent cries for help, for a big, strong man to come care for you the way you need, the way you deserve.

Because of his more extreme views of you genuinely needing him in order to survive and function, quickly his tendencies towards treating you like a helpless little thing will become apparent – this specific trait really only applies once he’s kidnapped you, but even before you’ve been relocated to the small house he buys for the both of you to share (under an alias and in a very, very small town of course), he’s making preparations for how to give you the care you need.

He’s investing in the softest sheets money can buy (or that he can find to steal), pillows make for children who move a lot in their sleep, a humidifier in the shape of a cute little panda to keep your breathing healthy and your skin soft and glowy.

He’s buying a booster seat and removing the straps and belts, attaching them to the kitchen chairs to make sure you don’t fall off, especially when you’re throwing one of your tantrums and claiming you won’t eat what he’s serving you. (This always hurts him, because he’s spent hours learning to cook just for you, trying his hand at sautéing and marinating, only to discover he’s very, very incompetent in the kitchen – aside from chopping, that is.)

It’s exciting, in all honesty, to prepare for your eventual living with him, and he spends an awful lot of time furnishing and setting up your shared future bedroom. (It’s all pastel colors – pinks and blues and yellows, walls covered in pictures he finds especially cute of you, ranging from you drooling in your sleep to you pulling a pan of cookies out of the oven to you curled up in a thick blanket with popcorn and a movie on before you. He thinks it lightens the mood of the space, and the photoshopping that he convinced Shalnark to undergo in which Nobunaga himself is beside you in each is extremely, extremely pleasing to look at)

It’s difficult to contain the anticipation, the readiness he feels in throes for your eventual arrival. And once you have arrived, the patronizing nature of his actions and words towards you will quickly begin to feel suffocating – you’re given most of your rights towards the beginning, though it’s still dehumanizing, humiliating, terrible to have him cheering you on as you finish the dinner he cooked for you, to have him holding your hand and telling you a story so that you won’t have nightmares, to have him looking at you with smoldering eyes when you tell him your head hurts as he growls out something about orgasms help with the pain, don’t you know?

(It’s humiliating, if only because the food is so very burnt, the story is of him and embellished greatly to impress you, and he’s very, very quick to pounce on you with greedy hands ripping open your nightshirt and feverishly pinching at your nipples and groaning -)

You’re given most of your rights as compared to what he could possibly take away from you, but as your time with him goes on, soon those rights will become more and more limited, the number of things you’ll be allowed to do by yourself or even at all dwindling to a mere single digit percentage of what you were allotted at the beginning of your captivity.

The reason behind this is mostly out of your perceived disobedience towards him, something that Nobunaga is extremely sensitive about – the second you act out, whether it be yelling and screaming at him or simply refusing to eat the last spoonful of soup, Nobunaga’s face is darkening, a heavy sigh and a mumble of why do you always have to be so difficult tumbling past his lips.

He’ll haul you to the shower, holding you still while he scrubs and washes your body, because he needs to properly clean you, and maybe then you’ll realize just how well he takes care of you, how you’d be lost and dirty and filthy without him.

Life with him is just honestly infuriating – when you want to watch a movie with him, Nobunaga will jump at the chance, snuggling in next to you and inhaling the scent of your hair over and over as the movie plays across the television screen (only PG-13 movies, though – he’s too scared the violence, cursing or sex will taint your mind or scare).

When you want to read a book, Nobunaga is tsking and grabbing it out of your hands, insisting on reading it to you because the words will hurt your eyes and your head, and he would never want that.

It’s irritating and humiliating, but the worst part of the whole ordeal is how Nobunaga doesn’t even seem to realize that – he’s smiling that big, dopey smile the whole time, a blush on his cheeks as he takes in your beauty, pure excitement and adoration washing through him when he sees you looking so cute in your frilly, ruffled clothing, looking up at him while he coos down at you.

It’ll be terrible, he’ll be terrible, but at least he’s not doing it to fuck with you, right?

He’s not doing it to purposefully belittle you, and that should count for something at least, right?

Right?

Possessive

Nobunaga has never been the luckiest with women. Maybe it’s to do with his less than stellar hygiene, or maybe his criminal status, or maybe it’s just him - but regardless he’s never really had a long term, serious relationship. Not that he’s minded much, as being an internationally known member of a notorious criminal group doesn’t really lend much time and flexibility towards a personal life.

But as time passes on Nobunaga gets increasingly more curious about what it would be like to have someone, a woman to call his own, a girl all for him… It’s a far off idea and thought, as the Spider obviously comes first now and always, but once he finds someone perfect, wonderful, everything he’s been dreaming of and more, how could he possibly let you slip through his fingers? How could he let you go, when you seem to call to him on such a deep, carnal level, like some long lost connection of himself?

He gets attached pretty quickly, only really taking a few genuine compliments from you, a smile and an endearing laugh at a joke or two, partnered with your features and figure that he finds very, very attractive.

Once Nobunaga decides that the feelings brewing in his chest are real, meaningful, desperate, that long-time curiosity comes to fruition, because you’ve effectively become completely and utterly his. He’s normally not the most materialistic man in the world (though to a certain extent, if only because his job is professionally stealing, which brings a certain level of awareness for worldly goods), but suddenly there’s one possession in his care that he absolutely refuses to share, something that must be and remain his for the rest of his days, for the rest of his life – you.

And so, now that you’ve been claimed by the samurai (without your knowledge for the most part, though he’s not the best of hiding his intentions), you’ll have to deal with the consequences.

He gets jealous insanely quickly, seeing every man in a fifty foot radius of you as a threat, assuming that everyone else wants you just as badly as he does, that they’ll stop at nothing to get you, to take you away from him, to separate the two of you so that he’ll be alone and without you and god, Nobunaga doesn’t know if he could take that, if he could live without you, his light and stars and moon and love and –

His jealousy is nothing to sneeze at, if only because he’s a bit trigger happy, and once he feels that someone has threatened his darling in any way (or even if they haven’t, really), they must immediately be eliminated, not given the chance to even attempt to manipulate you into leaving Nobunaga, your true soulmate.

And while he won’t kill in front of you, as he’s too worried the violence will scare you or traumatize you (something that might actually be true, standing out alone against the thousands of other assumptions he makes about you that are anything but), Nobunaga isn’t exactly smooth with concealing his more possessive behavior, of playing off the way he doesn’t want anyone or anything looking at you, thinking of you, even being aware of your existence.

It’s in part to do with the fact that he genuinely believes that you want him and think of yourself as his property as well, but the reality is that any time the both of you are in the same vicinity, he’ll be making comments that’ll have you furrowing your brows, confusion dancing through your chest as clarifying questions sit on the tip of your tongue about what he means, why he’s saying that, what he could possibly be insinuating when he says tch, bastard, thinking he’s worthy of even looking at my woman, fucking pervert’s probably eye-fucking her, like she’s not standing right here right next to her man.

His actions, too, will leave you wondering, your stumbled steps uneven as he charges in front of you, pushing you behind him with a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, a menacing glare at the man who came up to you, a growled leave her alone being the only warning he’ll get before he’s forced to the ground with Nobunaga’s heel digging into his windpipe, a look of disdain and pure rage meeting the terrified man’s gaze.

So really, between the odd, concerning comments about how you belong to him and are made for him, and his rather abrupt, violent way of physically covering you and creating a border between you and the world, things will slowly become apparent at what’s really going on. You’ll slowly start to realize that he seems to believe that there’s something between you that there really, really isn’t.

Too bad you don’t know the severity and depth of his feelings, or maybe you’d be able to save yourself from a lifetime of unwanted affection, humiliation, suffocation, and sweet, sweet acceptance.

Although, even if you knew, would you really have been able to stop someone so dedicated, deluded, desperate?

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Nobunaga’s jealousy trigger is really quite loose – it’s infuriatingly easy to get him feeling threatened, to have him gritting his teeth and pulling you close, irritation and rage at the world for even trying to separate the both of you, to come between your so obviously perfect love.

He genuinely sees every male you interact with as a threat, as a potential rival for your love and attention and devotion, and call it a result of being in the Troupe for so long or just simply his nature, but where he sees someone as a problem, there’s little to no hesitation in cutting them down, in eliminating them.

He genuinely has no patience regarding you being in the presence and minds of other men, simply because he full heartedly sees you as his property, his woman, his property and love and belonging, and while he has certain moments of leniency, Nobunaga isn’t known for his generosity.

As such, the second that he feels another man is holding even a sliver of interest for you, his every nerve is on fire, dark eyes narrowing as rage and anxiety swim through his veins, his grip on the hilt of his sword tightening so much that his knuckles turn white.

His eyes are always on you, his every moment outside of Troupe work spent watching you (or, as he likes to put it, watching over you, as if he’s some guardian angel or your protector or in it for literally anything but the chance to see you in your panties when you think you’re alone in the quasi-safety of your home), and because of this Nobunaga feels as if he has a good idea of who is trying to get catch your attention, men he needs to keep an eye on and make sure don’t approach you or steal away your love from him.

It makes him feel good, in a sense, to have such control over your life, to be the one dictating which men can and can’t speak to you, to be the one metaphorically standing between you and the world, protecting you just like the sweet, innocent, weak little thing you are.

Of course, it makes him feel like he’s being a real partner when he does this, but the anger that he feels brewing in his chest with each one-over a man gives you feels suffocating, the rage boiling in his heart making him lightheaded and seeing red, anything to get the man’s blood staining the freshly washed indigo of his kimono.

He feels responsible, as if he’s the only one who really knows what you and want and what you need, and when he sees so many men trying to come in between you and the only one who actually knows the real you, Nobunaga is simultaneously enraged and flabbergasted. Because honestly, can’t these men see that you’re already claimed, that you’re already hopelessly in love with Nobunaga himself?

He’s confused, but he’s too pissed to really consider why those men don’t seem to recognize that you’re already taken, why they don’t seem to understand that Nobunaga Hazama owns every part of you, that you’re wholly and completely his fucking property.

They don’t seem to get it, but it’s not such a big deal – after all, when their head is sliced off and rolling away from the still fresh body, does anything they thought really matter?

When those dark eyes spot the man sitting across from you in the outside plaza giving you a not-so-subtle glance from head to toe, immediately he’s scowling, shoulders drawing taught as his brows draw tight. Who does he think he is?

He’s watching like a hawk, barely blinking as the man takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly before standing up and smoothing down the front of his dress shirt, evidently nervous as he begins walking towards your seated figure.

Nobunaga’s eye twitches as he glowers, his position at a nearby table giving him the perfect view to see the way the man makes a beeline towards you, closing the distance with every step and forcing Nobunaga’s heart up into his throat, sudden anger and worry washing through him. His chair scratches rather loudly against the cobblestone ground, the samurai on his feet in an instant and scrambling across the plaza to get to you, stopping in a flurry of motion that has you blinking confusedly up at him while a gust of dust flies out from behind his still figure.

You’re confused, not sure where this man suddenly appeared from, but before you can ask any questions or give the man a piece of your mind for kicking dust up into the pastry you’d been thoroughly enjoying, suddenly the man is hunching over, his hand clasping over what you know recognize to be the hilt of a sword?

Your confusion grows even more as he growls out a what the hell do you think you’re doing towards a stranger some ten feet away from you, a blond man who looks mortified and terrified at the raw animosity radiating off of the dark-haired man in front of you.

It’s silent for a moment, before you open your mouth and begin to ask what in the hell is going on, but the dark haired man turns his head, the exposed stubble and the odd warmth of those chocolate eyes fixating on you as he smiles softly, a rather familiar shh, don’t worry baby, keep eating, I’ll take care of it making your expression morph into one of disbelief, the audacity of this stranger being so familiar and strange shocking you for a second too long.

Soon the blond man is waving his hands in apology, a stuttered I-I didn’t know she was already taken, I’m sorry man making you splutter, standing up from your chair.

Nobunaga’s brow twitches as he grips the hilt of his sword, whipping it out in one quick motion and making the blond shrink back, wincing and visibly sweating in nervousness. You grab at the man’s kimono, intending to talk some sense into him, but before you get the chance he’s stiffening up, the feeling of your hand against his kimono making his whole body shudder, brown eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He turns around, Adam’s Apple bobbing harshly as his dilated eyes hazily focus in on you, jaw clenched tightly. Not now babe, I’m busy, but later… later we can do whatever you want, princess.

You recoil, face twisting up in disgust as he turns back around, lunging at the man who screams and scrambles backward, onlookers staring with wide eyes and dropped jaws. Get the fuck out of here, don’t ever come near her again or I swear to god I’ll slice you up into a thousand pieces and feed you to the neighborhood dogs. Clear?

The blond man nods frantically, gulping and stumbling backward over his own feet, and Nobunaga can only spit on the ground and sheath his sword, turning his back on the blond man who whirls around and sprints away.

You stare at Nobunaga, eyes wide in confusion and fear, but the second that brown gaze meets you, all traces of rage and fury have disappeared, instead replaced with worry and concern and a disturbing amount of fondness.

He rushes forward, grasping your hands in his bony fingers, grip tight enough to have you freezing up, not sure of what to say as he examines your hands, studying every detail in earnest. You should be more careful, the outside world is dangerous baby, you shouldn’t be out here with all this filth.

You’re not sure what’s happening as he guides you to sit back down, moving the pastry up to your mouth and forcing you to bite – effectively feeding you – before grinning dreamily and leaning down to press a much too heated kiss against your forehead.

(You force yourself to pretend to ignore the light groan that accompanies his kiss.)

You aren’t sure what’s happening, but as he tells you a rather ominous see you later, babygirl and leaves in a flash, you’ll be too shocked to do anything but stare at the now empty space previously occupied by his body.

And as he slices the neck of the blond man who dared try to approach you later that night, Nobunaga can only dreamily sigh, staring down at his hands that had touched your own, held your beautiful hands and felt your soft skin with loving eyes, bringing them up to his trembling lips to lick and kiss, eyes rolling to the back of his head because god, how can just the trace remains of you taste like heaven?

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Nobunaga is honestly quite quick to steal you away; because of his more delusional mindset of how you feel towards him and what your relationship really is, his self control and patience are quite low when it comes to you.

He sees you as just as utterly and madly in love as he is, just as desperately and pathetically in need of him as he is you that it just makes sense for him to hold that chloroform soaked rag over your sleeping lips, to feel your body go limp in his grasp as he lowly moans and clutches you tighter against his chest.

(The straining cock trapped in his kimono makes it difficult to focus on anything other than the fact that it would be just so easy to slide those panties to the side, to finally feel that warm and velvety cunt clenching down on him like a goddamn vice…) But he steels himself, instead carrying you towards the little, modest house he’d bought for the both of you in a tiny, rural town a few cities over.

He feels justified in stealing you away, not an ounce of doubt or guilt settling into his stomach throughout the planning process and throughout the actual procedure – you love him just as much as he does you, so won’t you be glad to learn that you’re finally getting to become really his, that your relationship is finally getting to really start?

You were playing hard to get before, acting so oblivious to his presence, pretending like you didn’t know he was there watching and wanting you, standing guard outside your bedroom door only to join you in bed once you’d fully fallen asleep, but now you don’t have to pretend anymore.

You don’t have to try and pretend like you don’t worship him as he does you.

You don’t have to try and keep his attention on you by acting like a silly little girl and not picking up on any of the obvious signs left around your apartment and life of his presence (the long hairs of his on the shower walls had to have been noticed by you, as the way they’d appear at times when you hadn’t showered recently must’ve been suspect, just as the strange additions of mysterious jars in your refrigerator must have tipped you off to someone taking the time and care to add to your culinary palette and diet).

He’s just so excited – he’s known from basically the beginning that he’d be kidnapping you, relocating you to a shared home with him where he can keep an eye on you and take care of you, love you and give you the life he knows you want and need and deserve.

And Nobunaga, for all his faults, is a man of his word – so when you wake up in a strange bedroom and a pile of stuffed teddy bears and bunny rabbits a few feet high sitting at the end of the bed, the dark haired man giddily staring at you from the doorway, things will slowly become more and more normal to you, familiar despite your numerous, loud and desperate complaints.

Essentially, once Nobunaga decides that you’re his, his obsession forming so strongly and irrevocably, your destiny as his captee is set in stone – and good fucking luck leaving, because Nobunaga will never leave you a moment of peace, and unless you want to be dehumanized even more (perhaps you need someone to use the bathroom with you from now on, or to spoon feed you meals and dress you and brush your pretty hair and bathe you), you’d better accept your life with him.

After all, you don’t really have a choice.

As a captor, Nobunaga is, more than anything, absolutely suffocating. He’s always there, those dark eyes watching your every move, glistening with excitement and adoration and desire, to the point where you’ll eventually stop noticing, the hairs standing up on the back of your neck feeling normal and common place.

He’s similar to a hawk in many ways; he’s analyzing everything you do, staring and waiting and predicting your movements, already there and prepared with what you need before you can even think to ask. He wants to be your provider, to be the man you depend on, the man you need, and because of this he’s doing everything in his power to make you think of him that way, to force the idea of him caring for you to become something you honestly believe.

He’s supplying the small home with all of your favorite foods (though, as time passes he becomes less and less likely to let you eat them, if only because they’re just so unhealthy, and he can’t have his precious baby destroying her body like that), keeping dozens of pillows and blankets on hand for you (all with colors and patterns that are just so cute; little flowers and tie-dies and lots of purples the same shade as his kimonos), and wonderful smelling shampoos and body washes (all fruity scents, because he likes when you smell so sweet, so damn delicious that he just wants to take a bite of you and taste you).

He’s fixated on this concept of being your big, strong provider, a true man in the relationship that cares for his sweet, weak woman, in return for your undying love and affection towards him. And really, that is exactly what Nobunaga expects from you – he expects you to act like a happy girlfriend, as if you’re just as hopelessly obsessed with him as he is you, and he will be demanding this treatment from you.

Very early on he’s expecting you to get physical with him; his cold fingers are always sneaking between yours, clutching onto your hand so tightly you can’t feel your fingertips. He’s wrapping his arms around you constantly, hugging you and pressing every inch of his body against you, leaving absolutely no space for air between you.

(He especially likes to hug you from behind, elbows pressed against your waist, and resting his chin on your head or shoulder – and, if you’re unlucky enough, something rather insistent and throbbing pressed into your ass, begging for your attention.)

He’s kissing you within a month of you being trapped with him, thin lips pressing against your own with much too much passion, his eyes fluttering closed and hands eagerly clutching at you to pull you ever closer.

He’s forcing you to cuddle with him, situating you so that your face is against his chest, one leg thrown over his pelvis, your hair tickling his nose and he deeply, deeply inhales, whispering a soft goodnight to you and cheekily telling you to dream of me baby, and tell me all about it in the morning.

And, of course, he’s not especially receptive to you denying him of any sort of attention – particularly physical attention. (Heaven forbid if you refuse to hug him or let him cuddle you – you will be forced, because although he’s tall and lanky, he’s much stronger than he appears, and you will be no match for his force. And god, if you refuse him when he’s got you on your knees in front of him, a hand reaching into his kimono to pull out his cock, already bright red and dripping precum? Well, he doesn’t like throatfucking you, but you obviously need to be taught a lesson.)

He’s just needy, desperate for you in every possible way, and your tolerance of him will come on disturbingly quickly. You’ll hate him at first, passionately and vehemently, but the longer you’re with him the more your fight will die out, if only because your hope dies alongside it, the knowledge that you’re stuck with him forever lowly settling in your chest.

You’ll grow complacent, maybe even learning to enjoy the way he coddles you, the way he smiles so fondly at you, the way he spoils you rotten, maybe even the feel of his cock. You may hate yourself for it, but you will eventually accept your new life – and Nobunaga won’t even really notice, only seeing your rebellious nature slowly dying off and your love for him finally, finally shying through.

It took you long enough, he thinks, but it doesn’t matter now; how can it, when you’ve finally gotten over that shy phase you seemed stuck in and are now able to fully express the devotion you feel for him?

How could he ever complain, when you’ll be spending the rest of your life by his side, the rest of eternity?

PUNISHMENTS:

Because of Nobunaga’s delusional views, punishments don’t happen too terribly often. He’s generally able to write off pretty much anything you do that displeases him as simply you trying to tease him, trying to make him work for your love.

He thinks it’s almost endearing, at first, because of course he’s willing to put in the little bit of extra work to show off the depth of his feelings for you. He’s willing to indulge in your little game, chuckling and smiling to himself when you refuse to cuddle with him, only running a thumb along your cheek and whispering to you that he’s patient, but baby, soon or later I’ll get impatient and take what I want, and I know that’s what you’re hoping for. I know you want me to just grab you and never let go, because you like being so close to me, I know it gets you all shy and flustered, and soon we’ll do more than just cuddling. I promise, sweetie.

Of course, you’re most definitely not playing any sort of game, just genuinely wanting to be away from him and free, but there’s very little you can do to get that message through to him. He’s remarkably good at twisting every word and action you make into some sort of cry for his attention, into some declaration saying you want him, even if you’re screaming the opposite. He’s good at writing off nearly everything you do – with one exception.

The moment you try to physically injure him, Nobunaga’s face is darkening, those black eyes hardening and his fists clenching tightly. There’s absolutely no excuse for two people in love to hurt one another outside of the bedroom, and he runs into trouble trying to justify your actions.

It becomes very difficult to see you as perfectly in love when you’ve reached out with harmful intentions, and you’ll very quickly see a side of Nobunaga that you wish you hadn’t.

He doesn’t like hurting you, but he’s a firm believer in equity in relationships (ironic, of course, but he doesn’t see it), and comes to the resigned conclusion that if you hurt him, he must hurt you. It will never be enough of an injury so as to threaten your life, only enough to incapacitate you, but still.

You hurt him, more in his heart than his body, but still – he can’t have this precedent set, because in order to be a in a healthy, loving relationship, he needs to show you that he won’t tolerate such blatant misbehavior.

So really, you can lash out all you want with words, but the moment your fist touches him? Well, is the punishment really worth the brief moment of victory?

His arms feel like weights around your body, pulling you down and trapping you against his chest, the lean muscles pressing against your front.

You don’t like it – you can smell him, that cedar odor that he thinks drives you crazy, and you can feel the pads of his fingers pressed against the flesh of your hips, pushing hard enough to surely leave bruises tomorrow. You can’t stand the way he’s whispering into your ear, hot breath fanning over the shell and making your skin crawl as he tells you all about how he’s going to make you feel so good tonight baby, ‘m not gonna stop until you’re shaking, you know I love it when you’re fucked dumb and just dripping –

You can’t take it anymore, anger and pure rage climbing up your throat, and before you can stop yourself, your knee is moving, coming up and landing hard against his crotch, hard enough that even you wince. He lets out a strained gasp, a wheezing noise that has his arms falling away from you, and immediately you’re stumbling back, eyes wide as you see how he crumples to the ground, hand clutching between his legs as his dark hair fans around his face.

He’s groaning in pain, but as you turn on your heel to run towards the front door, you hear him. Baby, what the fuck? What was that? Why the hell would you – fuck, that hurts. His eyes open, having been previously squeezed shut in pain, and his face freezes as he sees you rushing towards the door.

You bitch, he snaps, and just as your fingers graze the doorknob, the cold metal brushing against your fingertips, you’re pulled back, violently so. You land against a hard chest, rising and falling very quickly, the anger settling in his veins visible.

He’s scary, you realize in this moment, with a few veins popping out of his neck and he struggles to control himself, his next words clearly strained and clipped. He grabs your wrist, tight enough to make you wince, and begins dragging you along behind him as he heads towards the bedroom.

Good girlfriends don’t hurt their boyfriends. A few more steps, and you’re passing the doorframe. Good girlfriends are sweet, and they don’t try to run away. They love their boyfriends, and they’d never, ever go and hurt them, especially in their favorite spot.

He’s seething, and he throws you onto the bed, eyes wide and fingers shaking. You’re frozen, honest fear making your whole body numb.

He comes closer, too close, until he’s hovering above you, looking impossibly tall and foreboding. Why would you do this? Why would you make me hurt you? Do you like making me sad, making me the bad guy?

Cold fingers press against your lower shin and foot, his shoulders huffing a bit. This hurts me, baby, I promise. But I have to, you have to learn your actions have consequences.

And with that, his left hand is pushing left and his right hand right, and a sickening, loud crunch fills the room, followed very shortly by your wails. Searing pain shoots up your spine and there are tears in your eyes, your body flailing as he moves to break the second ankle, your pain only doubling.

It’s excruciating, and through your bleary gaze you see the way Nobunaga looks pointedly down on you, the firm line his mouth is set in wobbling slightly, his own eyes filled with tears.

Quickly he’s settled beside you, one hand palming your cheeks and the other running a hand over your hair, quietly shushing you. Shh, I know baby, I know it hurts, but this is how I feel, too. This is how you made me feel, you don’t like it, do you? Shh, I know, I know, but you’ve got to learn that I’m your boyfriend and you love me, so you can’t go hurting me. Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here, hold onto me and the pain will go away.

You can’t think, your hands blindly clutching at him, but Nobunaga only sighs, thumbs coming up to wipe away your tears and a kiss pressed to your forehead. I know, but you’ve learned your lesson now, huh?

Somehow you shakily nod, shoulders shaking, and Nobunaga can only softly smile. If you look closely enough, you can even see his face changing, morphing from angry and teary and worried to that self satisfied smirk, the mask of delusion slowly falling over him once more. Good girl, now I’ll go get some water and ice, and I’ll spend all night making you feel better. Isn’t this great? Now, we can spend some time together, do you want some snacks too?

He leaves to the kitchen, with a big smile on his face, body shaking in excitement. Sure, hurting you wasn’t ideal, but now you’re stuck, unable to walk or move or do anything without him, perfect for him to dote on and care for, and now surely you’ll see just how much he loves you.

He wouldn’t be willing to care for you 24/7 if he didn’t, right? You’ll see, he’s sure – just you wait, he’ll smother you with his love, just to prove that he’s the only one you’ll ever need.

OVERALL DANGER:

8/10

While Nobunaga isn’t particularly sadistic or evil, he is completely out of touch with reality.

The thing that makes him so dangerous is that there really is no arguing with him; his moral compass is virtually non-existent, and he really truly sees absolutely no issue with what he’s doing to you.

There’s nothing wrong with how he feels for you, or the way he stalks you or cares for you or steals you away – he’s just in love, and he’s absolutely convinced that you are too. He genuinely wants to spoil you, to give you everything he can and then some, because seeing you smiling and happy makes his heart race, his palms getting clammy and his throat get all fuzzy.

He grows dependent on you, desperate to have your eyes on him and your hands on his body, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get you in his arms, locked under his roof, always eagerly awaiting his arrival home with your arms open and legs spread.

He needs you, in a way that makes his head spin and his heart ache, to the point where it hurts to not be near you, to not have you by his side. He’s driven by devotion, by the genuine belief that you belong together, and once he’s set his sights on you, you really have no hope.

It doesn’t matter how hard you try to escape him, to outrun him, to make him fall out of love with you – he will find you, track you down and wrap you up in his arms where you belong, all the while nuzzling his face into yours, peppering kisses across your eyelids and cheeks, murmuring to you about how lonely he was without you, hoe he needs you and wants you and has to have you.

He’s deranged, but with time you’ll find yourself slowly losing your mind as well, caving into the belief that maybe he’s right, that you really do love him just as much as he loves you, even if you don’t know it. Maybe it’s true that your life is pointless without him – what had you really accomplished before he stepped into your life?

Maybe he’s been right all along – so really, just give in, let him smother you with gifts and kisses and cum, and you’ll someday be happy, too.

Someday, you’ll decide that this is where you belong, with him.

#yandere hxh #yandere nobunaga hazama #_lee's profiles #hxh x reader #_hxh #_nobunaga hazama

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murdleandmarot · 6 months ago

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Can you info dump about bluebelle, I’m very curious about her :3

SORRY THIS TOOK A HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS I WANTED IT TO BE PERFECT

Hi hello!!!!! I will very gladly talk about Bluebelle, she’s the love of my life forever :D 💙💙💙💙💙

Important note: I’m a very um dramatic person when it comes to creating oc backstories. I am nothing if not a little bit pretentious, and giving ocs weird and angsty backstories is my passion project, and that’s part of the reason it took so long to collect my thoughts, and come up with something concrete, (or as concrete as possible)

I’ll start with facts about her that I like and then backstory regarding the fabled music box :))

-her design/colors are based off of a stuffed animal I bought in Munich :)

-the songs I most associate with her, (I have a playlist because I wanted one), are probably A Dangerous Thing/Everything Matters by AURORA, The Sugar Plum Fairy from the Nutcracker, and I came to your party dressed as a shadow. Adore those songs

-the only jellicles that she has met, (by choice), are Victoria, Misto, Plato, and Demeter. Or rather, Demeter knows of her, but Bluebelle doesn’t know Demeter

-this is mostly bc she’s pretty paranoid about meeting new people, and prefers to stick to her people. It took her a while to warm up to Plato, but eventually she got used to him

-this is also despite Vicci’s best efforts to convince Bluebelle to at the very least meet Jemima

-SPEAKING OF JEMIMA, if you haven’t heard, here’s my little jellicle magic theory: The cat’s magic relates to their eyes, just vaguely. Jemima and Misto each have white eyes, and you may have noticed, Bluebelle has those eyes as well. Because she’s. Blue. And that’s not a typical cat color, I figured I should just run with it. I see Bluebelle’s magic as a combination of Jemima and Victoria! Yes, Victoria is magic to me and that’s not just because she’s lovely and beautiful, but because of the way she uses the music in the show, and the way some productions seem to use her as a metaphor for the Jellicle moon, relating it to her dancing. This is especially true for me when I hc Vicci as deaf, because it implies some sort of magic when her solo syncs with the music. Bluebelle has the same sort of music and dance magic as Victoria, and the same sort of eerie unearthly-ness of Jemima. Basically I combined all my favorite girlies into one and made her <33

Really incoherent n convoluted story under the cut lolllll

I’ve always imagined the music box has something Bluebelle has had since she was very young, as in some of her earliest memories are of the tune it plays. Her mother probably gave it to her before both of her parents disappeared like they were in a Disney movie. The point is that it’s one of her favorite things, and she loves dancing to it. Victoria loves the song as well, and they sometimes practice using the music box, and things continue as so until Misto appears, and starts practicing with them.

Because Misto insists that no music is coming out of the music box. He can’t hear a single note.

Neither can Plato, or any of the other jellicles, when Victoria borrows it, and plays the song for everyone else in the junkyard, (Bluebelle doesn’t go with her-she’d rather not meet the others, for fear they won’t like her, or will tell Victoria to stop visiting her).

No one else can hear the music. No one except, of course, for Jemima and the psychic twins.

Bluebelle starts to ask around town, playing it for different cats, until she finds an older tom, not far, though she doesn’t know it, from the Junkyard.

He can’t hear the music box of course, but he tells her that he’s bit of a collector of magical artifacts. Perhaps he’ll have something similar in his collection.

Would she like to take a look?

Bluebelle declines. Declines at least, to visit him on this night. She hands him the music box, and instructs him to take it back to his den, and look for himself. They will meet in the same place the next day, and if he cannot find anything, then she will go and see for herself.

The next morning, they meet again. He tells her that he’s sorry, he couldn’t find anything that matched the box, and that in his haste to meet her on time, he’d left the box behind. The tomcat invites her to his den, and again, she declines, saying she will visit on a later date, that she already has plans.

Bluebelle follows him home, and hides in wait. She watches as his friends gather to scheme, and doesn’t notice the staring of a golden queen hanging off the arm of a blood orange tom.

The acquaintances leave, and the old cat retires to his den. The fire is almost out, leaving her to sneak into the other tent.

…blood seeps from every item in the cramped space, leaving it to drip from the walls and stain the ground scarlet.

He is not only a collector of magical artifacts, but a collector of queens, as well. The music box is the only thing unmarred by the red, so she steals it back.

She swears she can hear him howling the whole trip.

Bluebelle doesn’t tell Victoria what happens. She tells her to steer clear of the cat who could very be Bluebelle’s father, with a coat as vibrant as the sea, and Victoria doesn’t ask any questions.

Bluebelle doesn’t want to meet any of the other jellicles after that. She barely wants to talk to anyone ever again, with the exception of the few cats she already knows.

She and Victoria still dance to the music box though. Misto tries to follow along.

#…so have any of you ever read or watched Bluebeard?#the 2009 movie is insane and I adore it with all of my heart #finally!!! bluebelle’s long awaited backstory!!! *checks watch* an entire month past its relevancy!!#if you read all of that I will do whatever you want forever I am kissing you gently on the forehead #anyway I was so scared to make this cringe and edgy and convoluted #like so scared #but then I watched the movie again #and I realized that Bluebelle is my creation #and if I like this as her backstory #then it is her backstory #guys you can do whatever you want forever and ever #I believe in you 🫶🫶🫶#cats the musical #cats musical #cats oc #jellicle oc #asks!!!!!!!#if this wasn’t what you were expected for a music box backstory I’m so sorry #unfortunately I am a freak for fairy tales

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kalindraancunin · 9 months ago

Text

A Love Dream

OK GUYS. I HAD TO DO IT. i am not a writer per se (although I am loving it I admit), not a native speaker, nothing, but I HAD to get this idea out, and I sincerely hope you enjoy! ALSO: if anyone wants to continue this story with the much needed smut after, FEEL FREE! Let this be a group Project!

fluffy fluff, feelings, music, classical lore, anticipation for smut (but not there yet), love, desire and philosophical astarion :D

Lúthien is my female moon druid tav with a very rough childhood, one which she tries to heal herself from, with the help of her creative passions, specially music. Honestly if one didn’t knew and disregarded her occasional transformation into animal form, she would easily be mistaken for a full on bard.

She and Astarion engage in ongoing, very heavy flirting and already slept together two times (before and after the tiefling party), but never talked about feelings involved and struggle deeply to not be the first one revealing themselves to the other

(Basically two traumatized dumbasses in love).

She lets him feed nearly every night, trying to not show too much of her deep affection and lust for him. He obviously notices, but other than some heavy teasing he didn’t go further in his advances, simply because he, so he tells himself, already got what he wanted: her on his side, fighting for his cause for freedom.

The Piano piece they are playing is Franz Liszt Liebestraum No.3 (or A Love Dream) in Ab flat major ;-) I found it quite fitting both in melody and storywise!

....

As the sun begins to settle between the trees at the rosymorn monastery, camp shenanigans slowly settled down as well. This was the time where everyone retreated to their own tents, except for one or two left at the camp fire, sipping on wine and telling stories (more so often Gale). Like the night before, Lúthien sat behind the very old grand piano which revealed itself after an unpleasant encounter with some giant eagles two days ago. While their usual loot strolls after the fight, Lúthien almost couldn’t contain herself when she spotted the harsh contrast of the piano keyboard between piles of dried grass which the eagles used to built their nests.

She insisted they make camp here, as they were too exhausted after the two fights (they encountered some death sheppards before) and asked Karlach to help her set up the grand piano near her tent. „ Ok Soldier, am quite excited which tunes you come up with, I love when you play for us!“ The fiery Barbarian shouted while she grabbed the monstrosity by the keyboard like it was made out of cardboard and swunged it over her shoulders to carry it to Lúthien. She herself laughed, never getting over the impossible strength the tiefling woman provided while also embodying such an easy and happy personality.

„Careful, a grand piano as old as this specimen is most likely very delicate, specially the keyboard!“ Astarion suddenly made an appearance behind the two women, arms crossed, head shaking in disapproval.

„You may be right“ Lúthien admitted, placing her fingers on some of the keys, testing the sound. „ You sound like you sat on one of those before?“ She looks at his face, recognizing his eyes shying away from her gaze, eyebrows frowned as he was caught by surprise.

„ I.. Well, .. I don’t know, really. After all, it must have been 200 years ago.“ His usually silky voice took on an absent, sad tone.

„ Sorry, I didn’t mean to..“ Lúthien felt like her question stirred some uncomfortable thoughts the beautiful man across from her most certainly wanted to avoid. „No, no, darling, it’s alright,“ he quickly responded, his ruby eyes fixated again on her. „If you don’t mind not practicing too loud? I have some interesting literature which I intended to indulge in peace and quiet this evening.“ He scoffed at her with a little smirk and walked away back to his tent, just before Lúthien could return his teasing with a witty remark she already prepared inside her head.

Something along the lines of …. I could only imagine which „literature“ you are referring too.. never mind.

As her mind travels back to the present moment, Lúthien shooked her head, trying to get rid of that white haired-seductive grinning-crimson eyed- vampire- elf- man- image in her mind and focussed on the keys before her. This evening, she wanted to focus herself on a particular captivating piano piece she always wanted to perfect, but never managed to. Originally in ab major, Lúthien struggled to remember the correct tonality as she let her fingers sway over the keyboard, only pressing faintly where she thought the tone was right.

„Unsure, darling?“

Lúthien gasped in shock as she suddenly felt the presence of Astarion behind her. „Could you stop sneaking up on me?!“ She turns around, obviously taken aback and met him with a piercing glance, „sorry if I was too loud and interrupted your studies, your heiness.“

„No need bringing royalty into this, although I admit, this title would suit me quite a bit, don’t you think?“ Lúthien rolled her eyes and noticed her ears and cheeks heating up as he sat down next to her on the laying barrel she upcycled as a piano stool, their thighs touching each other slightly. She stared at his trousers and her mind drifted to the strong grip his legs had on her that night….

„My eyes are up here, pet.“ She gasped again and wanted to fight his bold assumption (which frankly was true), but couldn’t contain a loud laugh. She looked him in his eyes, despite her urge to avoid his gaze and was rewarded to see his face lighten up with her laugh. God’s, he was just ethereal. „Ok, ok, i don’t know what to say to that“ Lúthien looked away and at her hands still on the keyboard.

To her surprise, Astarion placed his hands on the keyboard as well.

„You know, I thought about what we talked about yesterday,“ she looked at him while he talked and absentmindedly gazed at the piano,“ I think i might have some history playing the piano when I was younger. He started lazily playing an arpeggiated phrase containing c, e ab…“Wait, you know that song?“ Lúthien stared at him with wide eyes, „ I wanted to practice it, as it is one of my favorite piano pieces!“

„ i know, I recognized the melody as soon as you started with the first notes“, his gaze rested on the keyboard, „ I must say, I applaud your taste in music darling , as it is one of my favorites as well.“

And then he started playing. As his beautiful, long fingers danced over the keys, his shoulders and his whole face began to relax. This calm and peaceful expression filled Lúthiens heart up with an immense, deep feeling for the pale man sitting next to her, so much she felt herself almost exploding on the inside. He played the piece so beautifully, carefully distinguishing between the strong, forte parts and the more soft, piano ones. The melody was like a wave he managed to draw flawlessly, so empathetic towards the intentions of each note, she was left speechless. She even thought she was sure she saw a small smile across his lips, while he was caught in the wave of the arpeggio phrases with his eyes closed.

This sight sent shivers down her spine and in that moment she wished nothing more than to be the piano, to be each key he touched.

She knew she loved him, a realization that hit her more calmly than she expected. It was just that she knew and now, she had just said it out in the open, at least to herself in her mind (which was quite the big step for her).

„ Do you know what this piece is about?“ Astarion looked her in the eyes while playing the last notes, still lost in the melancholy of the tune.

„I know it is called „ ,A Love Dream’“ Lúthien returned his gaze, eyes big and her whole body flushed, still flustered by her own realization.

„That is correct, dear“, his crimson eyes darted to her face and she couldn’t sit still, so she changed the position of her hands from the barrel to her thighs to the keys again just for the sake of moving some of her body, otherwise she was sure she would just jump at him and kiss him like an absolute mad woman, „ but do you know the whole story?“

„N-No“ Lúthien managed to get out. „ You know“, Astarion chuckles, „ its funny how just you practicing three simple notes got me thinking so deep about things I was almost a hundred percent sure I forgot that they existed. And that music, and playing the piano is still somewhat a part of me.. even after all this years of numbness.“ Lúthien couldn’t take her eyes of him and rested her hand onto his instinctively. At first she wanted to take it back to rest at her leg, but in that moment she knew she could stay there.

„ The story of a Love Dream is obviously about love, darling“ Astarion continued with a slight tease in his warm voice and smirked at her, but without that usual mask, so she notices. „ but about all the ups and downs, and specially, what remains of all the feelings after the beloved has passed.“

Suddenly, he moves closer to Lúthien and grabbed her resting hand more firmly, which she appreciated greatly, as she was sure she couldn’t contain herself much longer. „ But what if-„ he almost whispered in her ear, his face terribly close to her neck and her lips- , „ what if someone finds love after they already died? How would that feel like? If someone were to compose this piece according to this paradox, what would the musical waves look like? The other way around?“

He was so close to her face, he looked so deeply into her with his ruby eyes, asking this question with a sincereness she couldn’t take it anymore. She knew he was asking about him, about her. About all of this. What this means he is feeling, as he couldn’t remember he felt that way in two hundred years. She grabbed his neck and drew him onto her lips and they kissed. He wrapped his arms around her back and pressed her onto him so hungrily, but also so gentle.

As they deepened their kiss further and further, already traveling their hands to the other persons clothes, desperately wanting to gain access to skin, Lúthien managed to answer him, looking into his eyes, short of breath, hot and with a big smile : „ I think such a composition would thrive off this paradox, because when the story starts with the deepest of all pain, the most happiness must be what fills the time after.“ He smiled at her back, a clear, honest and genuine happy smile that melted her away for good, „ I would like for us to write it.“

#astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x reader #astarion x female oc #astarion fic #astarion fanart #astarion piano #Spotify #astarion fluff #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 fluff #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate tav #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction

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