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solxamber · 25 days ago

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Want You Back with: Housewardens

Where they're still in love with you.

Riddle Rosehearts

After the breakup, Riddle acted like he'd read somewhere that repressing emotion was a perfectly valid coping mechanism. Which, to be fair, he probably had. And so he embarked on what could only be described as a grief management routine so structured and detail-oriented that you almost had to respect it.

First came the part where he behaved like nothing had happened.

He went about his day with all the usual pomp—collaring students, citing arcane dorm rules, and drinking his tea as usual.

If anyone brought you up (on purpose or by accident), he would simply blink, nod, and go back to arranging sugar cubes in a perfect geometric formation. "We are no longer together," he would say, as if it were an administrative change and not, say, a soul-crushing emotional catastrophe.

Then came the coincidences.

He began showing up in places he absolutely did not frequent before. The café you liked? Suddenly, he was a regular. The library on Thursday evenings? There. The very hallway outside your class despite Heartslabyul being on the opposite side of campus? Oh yes. There too. And every time you spotted him lurking (because that was the only word for it), he would give a startled little blink, like you were the surprise.

"Oh. I didn't see you there," he said, the fourth time in a week.

You stared at him from behind your drink. "I've been sitting here for thirty minutes."

"Well," he muttered, "public seating is for everyone."

By week two, he began inventing reasons to talk to you. Weird ones.

He approached you one day, armed with a rulebook and what looked like three sticky notes marking battle locations.

"According to Queen of Hearts rule 42," he said, clearly having practiced this in front of a mirror, "ex-partners must return borrowed items within twelve days."

You blinked. "You lent me a pencil."

"It was part of a set," he snapped, scandalized.

You told him you'll give it back and he looked like someone slapped him.

You thought that might be the end of it. But then, course, it escalated.

He showed up at your door one evening with a paper in his hand. A list. A physical list. Titled, in absolutely unnecessary cursive, "A Non-Exhaustive Record of My Missteps."

"It's not meant to change anything," he said stiffly, not quite looking at you. "Only to… acknowledge."

There were bullet points. Short, awkward, and occasionally baffling.

Should not have critiqued your sock choice in front of your friends.

I apologize for saying 'emotional outbursts are not strategic.' That was, in hindsight, a poor choice of words.

You are allowed to eat dessert before dinner. Even if it is cherry pie.

I realize now that asking if we could schedule arguments during free periods was not romantic.

I should have asked you to stay.

You didn't know what to do with it—him. He was so Riddle about everything. Polite. Procedural. Very slightly insane. But under all the awkward attempts at regulation and paperwork, it was clear he missed you. Badly.

And the truth was, you still hadn't returned the matching pencil.

You kept it. Not because you believed in fate or romance or even well-meaning tyrants who quoted rulebooks like love poems—but because part of you thought, maybe, if he was willing to be just a little more flexible, there might be a version of this that could work.

And you hoped it could.

Leona Kingscholar

After the breakup, Leona made it his personal mission to convince the entire world—Ruggie, his dorm, the mirror in his room, the literal wildlife outside—that he did not care.

He went around saying things like, "Tch. Good riddance," and "Like I got time to babysit someone who cries over movies," even though no one had brought you up. He slept more. Talked less. Got moodier, which no one thought was possible until he started growling at actual potted plants for existing near his nap spots.

Whenever Ruggie so much as hinted at your name—usually while dancing around some scheduling conflict or trying to explain why Leona's mood had tanked again—he'd get cut off mid-word.

"I wasn't even talking about them!" Ruggie would complain.

"Then stop thinking about them so loud," Leona snapped, face buried in the crook of his arm like the concept of you physically hurt his eyes.

But of course, the moment your name stopped being brought up, that became a problem too.

He started acting restless. Less asleep all the time and more awake and clearly trying to look like he's not looking around for someone. He'd frown when someone laughed in the hallway, then look annoyed when it wasn't you. He started showing up to classes he normally skipped, sitting in the back with his legs stretched out and arms crossed like he was doing the entire school a favor just by existing in the room.

And then the things started appearing.

First, it was his jacket—left casually across the back of your desk chair, like maybe gravity had just pulled it there on accident. Then his spellbook, shoved between your textbooks in a way that definitely required premeditated effort. Then a sandwich. An entire sandwich, wrapped up and labeled "Not Yours."

He denied all of it, obviously.

"Must've been Ruggie," he said, regarding the jacket that literally smelled like him.

When confronted about the book: "I don't even read, what're you talking about."

As for the sandwich? "You're imagining things. I didn't make that for you."

By that point, no one believed him—not even himself.

The final blow came in the form of a confrontation you hadn't expected. Late evening, when you were walking back to your dorm from the library. You were alone, or you thought you were, until you turned the corner and found him there—half in shadow, arms crossed, gaze trained somewhere just over your shoulder.

He didn't say hello.

Didn't say anything actually.

Just let the silence stretch until it started fraying at the edges, and then muttered, voice low and rough:

"You still want this, don't you?"

You stared at him. He didn't flinch, but you could tell he wanted to. He held himself like someone who didn't expect the answer to be yes, but still desperately needed to hear it before he gave up entirely.

And you realized somewhere between the jacket, the sandwich, and the way his voice cracked at the end of the sentence—that for all his snarling and attitude, he never stopped loving you.

He just didn't know how to ask you to stay without sounding like he might actually need you.

Which, of course, he did. Not that he'd ever say it out loud.

Not yet, anyway.

But the next time he leaves something behind, you think you might return it in person. Maybe even stay awhile.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul handled the breakup the only way he knew how: with spreadsheets, surveillance footage, and a truly unhealthy amount of denial.

He claimed to be fine, of course. Said it with a straight face while color-coding inventory spreadsheets and inputting customer satisfaction data at four in the morning like a man unburdened by heartbreak. But when the tweels found the Lounge security footage paused—again—on a scene of you laughing near the bar, they stopped asking.

He'd memorized the timestamp.

And no, he didn't want to talk about it.

Azul had always been prone to spiraling in a unique way. After the breakup, that tendency mutated into something truly concerning. He didn't cry. He didn't wallow. Instead, he opened a blank document and began calculating. How many hours you'd spent together. How often you laughed in his presence. What the average rate of eye contact was in happy couples versus yours. There were charts. Graphs. Some kind of weighted affection index.

Unfortunately, Jade opened the file looking for the March sales report and instead found a document titled:

"Projected Probability of Them Still Loving Me (v6)."

He would not let him live it down.

"Idea," Floyd said. "You wanna run those numbers again but include the variable where you're super pathetic lately?"

Even Jade raised an eyebrow. "The correlation between desperation and appeal might not be as linear as you'd hope."

Azul tried to brush them off. He even lied (very badly) about what the spreadsheet was for ("Just… tax optimization. Personal hobby. Totally normal."), but the damage was done. The eels were smug. He was mortified. And worst of all, he still couldn't stop thinking about you.

So he pivoted.

If direct emotional vulnerability had failed him, perhaps passive-aggressive marketing would do the trick.

You started receiving coupons. Neatly folded, hand-delivered, no return address—but you recognized the ink. And the handwriting. And the aggressively formal tone that somehow still managed to sound like begging.

"One (1) free drink of your choice at the Mostro Lounge. Offer valid for exes statistically proven to be an optimal match."

Another read:

"Your preferred drink has been discontinued. Kidding. Please come back."

And your personal favorite:

"A reminder that our pairing was 94.3% ideal. Come back. For research."

You didn't respond. He didn't expect you to. But every week, a new coupon showed up—some increasingly ridiculous, some borderline romantic, all of them signed with that same flourish he used when pretending he wasn't panicking.

You weren't sure if it was pathetic or endearing. Probably both. The coupons had piled up in a drawer now, next to a coaster you never returned and a little napkin with a sketch he once made of you during a slow night.

You told yourself it was nostalgia. Curiosity. Scientific inquiry, if anything.

And one slow afternoon, you found yourself digging through the drawer, smoothing out the least crumpled coupon, and thinking—just for a moment—that you might stop by.

For research. Obviously.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim took the breakup as well as someone who had never actually took a negative emotion in his life to heart could. Which was to say: terribly.

He cried. A lot. At first, it was appropriate—private tears, sniffles in the dorm room, a distant gaze over his drink. But then it started happening at other times. Like during an ad for laundry detergent where the happy couple folded towels together. Or during a weather report where the forecast mentioned rain, which, apparently, you once said made you sleepy. Or during absolutely nothing at all, except that the sun was setting "a little too much like that one day you held his hand, remember?"

He insisted he was fine.

"Totally fine!" he chirped, voice three octaves higher than normal, eyes red-rimmed and suspiciously glossy. "Breakups happen all the time, right? We're both growing and learning! It's healthy!"

No one believed him.

Jamil looked like he was considering reporting you to the disciplinary committee just to end Kalim's reign of emotionally unhinged sunshine. Even Grim asked if someone should "turn him off and back on again."

But Kalim doubled down. If he couldn't be fine naturally, he'd brute-force his way into happiness. Which, in his mind, meant: throwing parties. So many parties. For no reason. His calendar suddenly became a horror show of "themed celebration nights" and "spontaneous joy hours," all of which were weirdly tailored around your favorite things.

"Here!" he said brightly, handing out goodie bags. "Everyone gets this specific brand of chocolates and stickers! Because those are just objectively fun! Not because anyone used to love them or anything!"

It was transparent. Alarmingly so.

Even when he gave someone a little clay charm that looked exactly like the one you wore on your bag, Kalim waved it off with a too-wide smile. "Just spreading the joy! It's important to stay positive, right?"

Everyone knew it was a cry for help. The kind that sounded like party poppers and glitter and repressed sobbing in the school gardens.

The turning point came on a quiet afternoon when he showed up at your door holding a tiny cupcake. It had a frosting heart on it. His hands shook slightly.

"I know this is weird," he said, already teary. "I didn't wanna make you uncomfortable. I just—"

He swallowed, voice cracking like something inside him was giving up the act for good.

"Even if you don't love me again," he said, "can we still be something?"

You looked at him—his earnest eyes, his trembling lower lip—and you felt something soft and painfully familiar unfurl in your chest.

Because Kalim didn't know how to lie to the people he loved. Not well. Not really. He was all impulse and heart, the kind of boy who loved too loud and too fast and never quite knew how to stop once he started.

And maybe you weren't ready to be what you were. Not yet.

But looking at him, at the little cupcake with the slightly smudged heart and the the way he was holding it like he might shatter if you didn't take it—

How could you say no?

You took the cupcake. And maybe his hand, too. Just for a moment. Just to see if something could still bloom.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil did not mourn the breakup. Mourning was for people who couldn't maintain composure under pressure. For people who let emotion smudge their mascara. He was not one of those people.

At least, not publicly.

He was flawless. Unbothered. The exact picture of someone thriving post-relationship, thank you very much. His interviews were polished. His smiles were poised. His posture was impeccable. If anyone noticed that his usual acerbic wit had gone curiously blunt, no one said anything.

They wouldn't dare.

Privately, though, when the cameras were off and the spotlight blinked out, Vil cracked in very small ways.

He started using your favorite perfume. A subtle layer, never enough to be obvious, but just enough to make him feel like you were still somewhere in the room. Like maybe if he breathed in deep enough, he could hold onto something.

He flipped through magazines during lunch breaks, claiming it was for "market research." But every time he lingered on a movie review or a lifestyle spread, it was with the faint, ridiculous hope that you'd read it too. That your fingers might have touched the same paper. That your eyes caught the same line he was rereading for the fifth time.

He knew it was foolish. But Vil had always been prone to beautiful illusions. It was sort of his thing.

The unraveling came, ironically, in the most public of places: a toothpaste commercial.

He was halfway through filming, mid-speech about the importance of a radiant smile, when something in the script triggered a memory—something you once said about how his laugh.

He kept talking.

Kept improvising.

Went off-script entirely.

The crew let him go for a minute—Vil was known for his "emotional depth," after all—but when he hit the line "even the most polished smile can still ache when it remembers someone who made it feel real," the director had to call cut.

"Vil," they said gently. "It's a toothpaste commercial."

He didn't speak for the rest of the shoot. Just touched up his own makeup in silence, eyes a little glassy.

It took him another week to knock on your door.

He showed up in a soft sweater, smelling faintly of something familiar, holding his own hands like he didn't know what else to do with them.

He didn't ask for much. Didn't ask for forever. Just quietly, cautiously:

"Would you like to try again?"

And you thought—looking at him, at the person who once swore he'd never show up like this for anyone, at the vulnerability hiding under all that polish—

Maybe this time, you could make it work.

Idia Shroud

Idia handled the breakup the way he handled most things in life: with a complete and total digital meltdown, buried under forty layers of denial and an emotionally scorched Discord server.

He didn't text. Didn't call. Didn't even leave passive-aggressive emoji reactions on your old posts like a normal ex with unresolved feelings. He simply… disappeared.

Vanished like a ghost into his room, into his code, into the vast and uncaring expanse of the internet, where feelings didn't exist unless they were typed in all caps or conveyed through a crying anime girl gif.

And for a while, it was total radio silence.

Until you logged into that game.

The shared one. The one you used to play together after class, where the two of you ran a little shop in a pixelated fantasy village and spent an embarrassing amount of time farming digital potatoes.

Your shop was still there.

But now there was… a shrine.

Your character's pixel art face, recreated painstakingly in custom tiles and surrounded by in-game flowers, torches, and glowing pink mood crystals that did not exist in the vanilla version of the game.

He'd modded it.

There was a sign in the middle that just said:

"Here Lies Happiness (RIP)"

You stared at it for a long time. Then, just to confirm the ridiculous suspicion building in your chest, you checked the nearby player list.

Sure enough, his username had changed too:

"SadBoy420"

Online. Loitering.

You didn't message him immediately. Mostly because you weren't sure what to say to someone who had quite literally built a shrine to your relationship in a farming sim. But still—you lingered. Logged in more often. Left offerings of rare items near the shrine like it was some strange, silent conversation.

Idia never spoke to you directly, but you noticed the shrine changed a little every day. One day it had a sign that said "I'm Fine." The next, it was replaced with a drawing of your characters fishing together. One morning it was just a massive, pixel-art rendition of the word "SORRY" in bold letters with a sad face emoji.

Outside the game, his silence continued.

But Ortho?

Ortho was not subtle.

"Did you know my brother has been listening to the voicemails you left him on loop for the past 72 hours?" he chirped once in the cafeteria. "Not that he's, like, sad or anything! Just nostalgic. Definitely not crying."

Later: "He made your favorite NPC in our custom server the town mayor! Isn't that cute? I mean, objectively, not emotionally, haha."

Eventually, you got the call.

Your phone lit up with his name and you answered before you could talk yourself out of it.

"Uh—hey," Idia said, voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't, like, mean to call. Or—I did, but. Crap. Okay. Hi."

You waited.

He took a breath.

"I was just wondering," he said, "if you maybe wanted to talk again. Or, y'know. Game. No pressure or anything. It's fine if you're, like, over it and I'm just like a pathetic ghost haunting your social life, haha, classic tragic NPC vibes—"

"Yes," you said, before he could spiral into apologizing for existing.

He paused. Long enough that you thought the call had dropped. Then, quietly—hopeful, almost disbelieving:

"Wait. Really?"

You smiled, even if he couldn't see it.

"Yeah," you said. "Log in."

Malleus Draconia

Malleus did not understand how something so radiant could simply… end.

He didn't throw a dramatic tantrum after the breakup. He didn't disappear in a swirl of thunderclouds or curse the moon or anything out of a tragic love story.

He didn't so much as frown in public, because the full gravity of the breakup hadn't quite hit him yet. Instead, it settled in stranger places—quiet things, strange habits.

Like how he started speaking to the plush bat you gave him on his last birthday as though it were you. Not in a creepy way, more like someone who didn't know what to do with the empty space you left behind.

He asked it questions. Told it how his day went. Laughed, sometimes, as if it had told him a joke—low and fond, the kind of laugh only you had ever coaxed out of him. And when he sat beneath the stars, plush cradled carefully in his lap, he whispered to it with a gentleness reserved only for the lost.

The gargoyles? They weren't even sentient, but even they seemed exhausted. Every night he stood in front of them, musing out loud about the way you smiled or how you always called him weird little nicknames. One of them lost a nose—maybe unrelated.

Lilia, bless him, said nothing for a long while. He simply watched as Malleus wilted, quietly and beautifully, like a flower sealed in ice. But one evening, after Malleus asked in the softest voice, "Do humans ever come back when they leave?", Lilia did not answer. He only wrapped his arms around his ward and held him close.

At some point, he started writing letters. Not to send, just… to say things. Things he didn't know how to tell you, or hadn't said enough when he could. Some were serious. Some were barely legible thoughts written in the middle of the night. But he kept them all, folded neatly in a box that lived under his bed.

And then, of course, Silver found the box.

Silver, ever helpful and half-asleep, assumed it was mail Malleus meant to send and delivered the whole thing to your dorm like it was completely normal to get a hand-bound novel of unsent love letters dropped off on a random day.

You read them all.

You didn't say anything at first. You weren't sure what you were supposed to say. But that night, you left your window open—just a little.

And sure enough, just past midnight, Malleus appeared outside your dorm. Just… standing there. Looking up.

He didn't ask to come in. He didn't even call your name. He just waited. Like maybe you'd hear the quiet, and somehow understand.

And when you finally stepped outside, he looked at you like he'd been waiting centuries.

"May I court you again?" he asked softly. "From the beginning."

And really… how could you say no?

Masterlist

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

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Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader

As much as you'd like to spend the rest of your life secluded away from the world, you need money. Conveniently enough, a new detective agency in town is hiring, and the salary is ridiculously good. The catch? Oh, you'll see once you sign the contract right...here. Congratulations! You've sealed a lifetime bond with their one and only employee, a demon from the depths of Hell!

Content: female reader, monster romance, dark humor, perverted goat demon yandere, based on ‘Yondemasuyo, Azazel-San’

[Part 2] [Monster masterlist]

There’s still enough time to go back, you think. It’s loud and crowded and you’d rather be home. The temptation is beginning to creep its tendrils over your mind, so you quickly pull out your phone and check your bank account. The numbers remind you why you’re here in the first place: if you don’t get a job soon, you’ll run out of savings.

Come on, it can’t be that bad. In fact, it’s the best offer you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Minimal interaction with humans, short hours, and absurdly good pay. A new detective agency opened in your town and they’re looking for an assistant. A regular person would most likely be put off by such shady circumstances. There must be a catch, but you couldn’t care less either way. What are they going to do, kill you? Sell your organs on the black market? They’d spare you the time to plan your own demise.

You climb the stairs and knock on the door. A deep voice tells you to enter, and you sheepishly make your entrance. The office is rather small and somewhat cramped, with stacks of papers scattered over the floor. Behind the desk sits a man – maybe in his thirties? – with messy black hair, sunken eyes, and an irked expression. Is this the detective? He looks like an angry thug. Not that you’re one to judge, given your overall gloomy aura that deters passersby with ease.

“Yes?” he asks curtly, not even looking up from his book.

“I’m here for the job offer. The assistant role?”

“Ah, yeah. Completely forgot about that.” He rummages through his drawer and pulls out a sheet of paper, slapping it on the desk. “Here’s the details. Same as in the ad. Here’s where you sign. Do you have questions?”

“Hmm, I guess not.” You hum, indifferent, and scribble your name.

The man finally glances at you, faint intrigue on his face.

“This went unexpectedly smoothly. What if it was a scam?”

“Then what?” You stare him in the eye with a flaccid smile. “There’s nothing to take from me. If it is a scam indeed, you’ll be the one disappointed in the end.”

His eyes narrow in an eerie grin, and he stands up.

“Perfect match.”

“Excuse me?”

He walks towards a secondary room and waits for you to follow him. Once you’ve joined, he turns on the lights, and you immediately notice a strange seal painted on the floor: Geometric symbols resembling a pentagram, surrounded by words in a language you don’t understand. You’re carefully observing the strange sight, so entranced that you don’t sense the detective lifting your hand and casually piercing your finger with a small scalpel.

Before you can react to the sudden attack, he presses your hand onto the contract you’d signed earlier. You wince in pain and swiftly pull your hand away, glaring at the man.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand angrily.

“I thought I’d already introduce you to the main tool we use to solve our cases.”

The sigil on the ground begins to glow and the edges move in a circular motion. A black ooze erupts from the center, rapidly expanding outwards. You glue yourself to the wall for safety, unsure of what is happening.

A clawed hand emerges from the cursed muck, grabbing onto the edges for support. Within seconds, a creature crawls its way out. A humanoid figure with curled horns and long locks, its body ending with goat hooves instead of legs, stands up and stretches before your terrified self. You tighten your jaw in anticipation.

“You always summon me during my best naps, damn it!” the demon barks.

The detective approaches the monster, completely unconcerned, and slaps its horns nonchalantly, earning a groan from the demon.

“Skip the unnecessary whining. This is our new assistant and your owner as of now.” He explains, dangling the contract before the horned creature and pointing a finger in your direction.

“The fuck? You said you’d end the deal if I completed that mission. You lied to me, you-!” the beast finally notices your presence and abruptly stops. “Well then, what do we have here?”

A wide, perverted smile replaces his frown, sharp fangs glistening with malice.

“Aren’t you a miserable one! You reek of apathy”, the demon exclaims, clacking his hooves in your direction. “Boy oh boy, I could just eat you up! Tell me your name.”

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You wonder if this is some bizarre dream after all. The demon clamps your lips back shut.

“Tempting offer, but I don’t need head right now. Save the gesture for later, alright? Let’s try again: Name!”

Your brows furrow in disbelief at his crass insolence.

“I-it’s (Y/N).” you finally manage to blurt out.

He strokes your head lovingly, as if he’s praising some house pet.

“Good girl. You can call me Zzy.”

For a moment, you completely forgot about the detective being in the same room. He places the demon under a firm hold and shoves him away from you, then hands you a thick, leathered book.

“This is his grimoire. Read it once you’re home. First day is tomorrow unless you need more time.”

“Tomorrow is fine”, you answer in a daze, fumbling to find the exit and ignoring the horned monster waving at you enthusiastically.

You’re lying in bed, still a little shaken from the events you witnessed earlier today. A detective agency that uses a demon to solve matters, and you’ve just been coerced into selling your soul for a lifetime bond with him. You sigh in exhaustion. At least the pay is good, you tell yourself as you trace your fingers over the old text of the grimoire:

“Great President of Hell, ruling three legions of demons. Brings insanity or great sorrow to any person the conjurer wishes. Feeds on sadness and fear. Causes people to end their life.”

Hard to believe that depraved buffoon holds such power. Although it does explain, at least, why the detective was eager to use you as a replacement. Or why the demon showed such intense interest.

“Who’s a buffoon?”

The voice is so close that you feel its hot breath on your ear. You scream and jump back in panic, tumbling out of the bed and scrambling onto the floor. You rub your eyes just to make sure: the half-goat creature is lounging under your sheets, gazing at you with a bored expression.

“Christ! I thought you’re not allowed to leave the office?” you inquire, baffled.

“That’s why I snuck this in your pocket!” he says as he procures a small coin. “I can track down cursed items. Hehe~”

As if remembering a vital detail, he throws himself up and joins you on the ground:

“Oh, but don’t tell Mr. Detective about it, or he’ll feed me to the dogs. It’s our secret.” he pleads, hands put together in a praying gesture.

“What are you even doing here?”

“I figured it’d be useful if we got to know each other as soon as possible, seeing as we’ll be working together from now on.”

“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Well…I also got really horny thinking of you and decided to just visit instead. How about a quick fuck?”

“Absolutely not. Eat a raw potato or something.”

“Don’t be like that! At least let me touch your boobs. Help a partner out, eh?”

Perhaps being scammed was not the worst-case scenario. You slap the demon’s groping fingers away and return to your previous spot in bed. It will be a long night.

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luvseisagi · 2 months ago

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— flowers for you.

ft. nagi seishiro x reader wc. 2.4k

summary. romance with your boyfriend doesn’t need to be grand —sometimes it’s just a flower field in minecraft and a cozy evening together. content. gn!reader, no pronouns used but reader is referred as mom once (as a joke theyre not a parent). fluff, fluff, fluff!! crack (i tried), stablished relationship, nagi might be ooc, also he has a secret villager farm underground... author's note. im not used to write fluff so i hope this is good, tried to make it as cute as possible - just like nagi is :(( also, inspired by a tweet i posted a few days ago (in the header !!)..

𝜗𝜚 english isnt my first language, so any corrections or advice are highly appreciated, as well as feedback (please) ! enjoyy

you wake up to a soft buzzing sound.

the fluffy blankets covering your body wrap you in a very comfortable warm, and the pile of plushies under your head, serving as your pillow, adapt to your movement when you change positions and end up facing the other side of the bed.

where you expected to feel an arm, a leg, or a wide back to hug, however, you find nothing but more fluffiness and softness.

still half-asleep, you open one eye, frowning. in the place where your boyfriend should be, there’s nothing but the huge stuffed seal he won for you at the last spring fair.

a soft chuckle escapes your lips as you move again, stretching your arms above your head and then yawning. you are more awake now, but you stay in bed, adjusting your position next to the stuffed animal —you wrap your arms around it, and rest your chin over the seal’s head.

the room is dark, illuminated only by the dim light of the monitor. the only sounds you can hear, apart from your breath, are the clicking of the mouse and the keyboard keys being pressed. there’s also the buzzing that woke you up, coming from your boyfriend’s pc —he’s sitting in front of his setup, fully concentrated on the screen.

“you awake?” he asks, whispering in case you’re still sleeping. he doesn’t look at you, his greenish-gray eyes focused on the game his playing.

“mhm.”

you stay in the same position, small smile in your face. you have a perfect view of your boyfriend from there —the white, disheveled strands of his hair slightly toned by the blueish light of the screen. his bangs cover his forehead, some of them so long they brush the tip of his nose. his eyes look tired, as they always do, but his big grey pupils seem concentrated on whatever he’s playing. you can distinguish some traces of green that appear on his eyes only when he is excited, or planning something.

“i put shiro next to you when i left the bed” he says suddenly, taking you out of the trance you were in while looking at him “in case you felt lonely. i didn’t want to wake you up.”

a warm sensation grows inside your chest, slowly spreading throughout your whole body. you can't contain the smile that appears on your face, nor the cuteness aggression that hits you when imagining nagi taking shiro, the stuffed seal, and tucking him under the blankets at your side.

you hug it tighter.

“so” you start, giving your full attention to your boyfriend. he’s wearing a white shirt with some silly illustration on the front, his toned arms practically still, since he is only moving his hands and fingers to use the keyboard and the mouse “what are you playing?”

he moves his gaming chair a little to the right, giving you space to see his monitor. on the screen, there’s a geometric world you know very well.

your voice sounds indignant when you exclaim —“sei! you’re playing minecraft without me?”

you can’t get angry at him, though. especially not when lets out a soft laugh, finally looking at you, puppy eyes asking for forgiveness. you are so cute when you pout, he thinks.

“you’d have complained if i woke you up from the nap” he says, instead. he doesn’t sound very sorry, an innocent grin on his face “you wanna see me play, tho?”

still pouting, you nod. however, the screen isn’t positioned well for you to see it without nagi having to move constantly, and he wouldn’t be able to play like that.

he solves that rather quickly. before letting you move, or change your position to see better, he stands up and takes your laptop from the side table beside his bed. he’s then sitting on it, taking the place shiro was filling before.

“hey!” you exclaim, moving shiro to your side so he doesn't get crushed by the weight of your boyfriend “be careful. this is our child.”

nagi laughs again, as softly as he is, and pats cutely the stuffed seal’s head.

“sure, sure, im sorry, kid.” he apologizes to shiro, while he’s waiting for his laptop to turn on “it seems like mom really found my replacement.”

then he points to you arms, still hugging the stuffed animal tightly. you let out a sigh and roll your eyes in mock exasperation, but you can’t hide the smile creeping up on your face. nagi’s too cute even when he’s acting all dramatic.

you stretch your arm, your hand finding his over the keyboard of the laptop, and it doesn’t take even a second for him to intertwine his fingers with yours.

“nope. no replacements. shiro’s fluffy, but not as comfortable to sleep on like you are.”

nagi rises his eyebrows, fake indignation in his voice.

“oh, so i’m just a pillow for you?”

you nod.

“white and soft.” you state, solemnly “and warm, too.”

he lets out a short chuckle, but his attention is back on the screen of your laptop. half distracted, looking for an specific app in the desktop, nagi tightens his grip on the hand you gave him before, and he brings it to his lips. then, he places a peck in your knuckles.

you feel your whole body melt by that delicate, intimate gesture. and you wish you could kiss him back, but you’re too comfortable lying on the bed to sit up and reach him, so you settle for caressing his fingers with the tips of yours.

“here.”

nagi gets up, and you look up at him. you’re so used to seeing him sitting in front of his set up, or laying on the bed with you, you sometimes forget how tall he really is. so tall it makes you sigh.

you’re so down bad it could drive you insane.

“i’ll stream my screen now” he says, walking to his desk and sitting on the gaming chair again. “so you can watch me play.”

the bed feels now colder without him, empty, but you move shiro to the place nagi just left to fill it. and just behind it lies your laptop, discord open on the screen —he just called himself so that he could stream the game to you.

your boyfriend’s not looking at you now, but you pout again, heart warm as you look at him. he does this frequently —small cute gestures, acts of service, anything to help you be comfortable at all times.

nagi’s always had the reputation of being lazy, of not liking to make any effort, but that is a lie. sure, he might not be very passionate for things he isn’t interested in, but you know he would do anything for your comfort —maybe not with physical things, but he loves spoiling you.

he is very spoiled too, of course, but that’s fine for you since you love making little gestures for him too —cooking him lunch, playing with his hair, reading the mangas he likes, or hugging him in your naps or whenever you slept together.

that’s why, in your opinion, you work so good together as a couple —you do for him what you’d like him to do for you, and vice versa. you just had the luck to find someone with the same interests and needs as you. in this case, in form of a very tall, very handsome and very cute white haired video game and napping geek.

“yn, are you watching?”

his voice startles you. you had been staring so focused at him that you had completely forgotten the stream on your laptop.

“oh, sure i am.” you say, your head immediately turning to the screen in front of you again “you are… why are you in my house?”

he lets out a giggle. in the game, as you can see from his pov in the stream, he’s in front of a little house next to a lake.

“don’t you dare setting it on fire again, sei!” you complain, scared of his next actions “i got lost so many times looking for the same wood i used when i built it the first time, i’ll kill you if you destroy it again.”

he then sets the pov in third person, and starts moving in front of your house with a bucket full of lava on his hand, teasing you. that makes you complain again, this time louder —which seems funny to him, since he can’t stop laughing now.

“actually, i’m the one who went to collect the trees the ‘i-need-it-to-be-this-exact-wood’ princess wanted” nagi refutes, smiling.

“ah, still, i see that lava in your hands” you raise an eyebrow “don’t you dare doing nothing you might regret later, nagi seishiro. i know about your secret places.”

“oh? which secret places?”

you scoff, grinning.

“did you know that keeping villagers locked underground so they can breed and sell you things is an illegal activity and should be punished by freeing them when you’re not online?”

nagi gulps, and your grin gets wider, knowing well that you won this one when he changes the lava bucket on his hand for a cooked potato.

you usually play together in the same server, since it’s the only game where you don’t end up insulting other people online. you’ve been building your cooperative world for weeks now —he would mine materials and build farms, and you would constantly build and rebuild your house, because he loved to burn it down when you weren't on the server just to watch you pout when you complained after discovering it.

you got distracted by looking at him again until his voice broke the silence of clicks and pressing keys.

“come on, yn, look at the screen now.”

“i swear, if you are trying to find more creative ways to destroy my- oh.”

instead of half a burnt edifice, you see your same little house from nagi’s point of view. he then sets the stream to third person pov again, surprising you with a very pretty scenery.

in front of the porch of the wood-made building, there is a wide variety of all kinds of planted flowers. it is like a colorful blanket under the sky, now growing darker, tinted by tones of blue, pink and lilac.

“sei.” you pout “this is so cute.”

you move your gaze up to him, who is already looking at you. he smiles.

“i might not be howl, or have a moving castle, but i can gift you a flower garden anyway.”

that leaves you speechless for a bit. you aren’t the type to cry very easily, but you swear you could start sobbing for how cute he is.

for how good his love is.

“i think that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for me.” is the only thing you can say, and think of, as you move the laptop and shiro from one side of the bed to another.

“yeah?” he asks, looking at you as you get up and walk to him “even more romantic than sacrificing myself for your sake in among us?”

you nod, now standing in front of him, and he separates his chair from the desk to leave enough room for you to sit in his lap. you two fit so well like that —legs intertwined, his arm going automatically to your waist, your fingers to his hair.

you place a peck on his cheek, and he lets out a cute pleased sound.

“more.” he requests, like a baby.

that makes you smile again —he doesn’t need to say it twice.

his face is now covered by your kisses, and he giggles under your touch. his soft laugh reminds you, again and again, how lucky you are to have him —truly the love of your life, you’d say.

and he believes that too, as he watches you fixing your posture on his lap and facing the big monitor of his set up. he lets you take the controls, the mouse in your right hand and the w-a-s-d keys under your left fingers.

although it’s his avatar in the game, he smiles softly as you run across the flower meadow he just planted for you. it’s night in the game already, and you need to kill some zombies and spiders, but you’re so cute when you’re playing he doesn’t mind that you’re wasting his enchanted bow’s life by shooting arrows that never hit their target.

he rests his cheek on top of your head, the height different making it easy for him to be comfortable like that. and you don’t complain, so he keeps watching you play —hands on your waist under his hoodie, the one you use as a pajamas whenever you stay at his house, lips and nose so close to your hair he gets lost in your scent.

he loves you so much it could drive him insane.

nagi’s attention goes back to the screen the moment he sees you open a supposedly secret door. he frowns, but he says nothing, waiting for your next move.

and then you are right in front of his villager farm.

“wait, what are you doing?”

he can’t see your face from behind you, but he’s sure you’re grinning evilly.

“keep calm, i’m just visiting your friends.”

“i’m doing nothing wrong with them, yn.”

you scoff.

“oh, yeah, I’m sure the villagers love being trapped underground by you.”

nagi’s lips twist in a cute pout, his arms hugging you even tighter under your hoodie. you almost feel physically weak when he moves his head lower, his chin now on your shoulder, and he speaks softly.

“they are not trapped. they are…” his lips tickle your ear while he talks “i’m giving them the great opportunity to create a family and live from a worthy profession, as commerce is.”

you shake your head, not convinced by his answer.

“this is not the life they deserve, sei.” you say, your voice tinted by exaggerated empathy “and i’m gonna be their savior.”

he’s about to laugh, but then he sees the inventory at the bottom of the screen. nagi raises his head, alarmed.

“wait. wait, yn, what are you trying to do?”

your answer comes in a confident exclamation. —“im freeing these innocent people for being forced to procreate only for you to have any item you want!”

he extends his arm, in panic, and points to the lava bucket now in your hand.

“by burning them alive?!”

masterlist.

pls lmk what u think in the comments, reblogging, through messages, asks or wtv!! feedback is important to me in these first posts and i'd appreciate it a lot 🤲🏼

﹫luvseisagi, april 2025.

#archive 📁. ۶ৎ #bllk #blue lock #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x gender neutral reader #nagi seishiro #blue lock nagi #bllk nagi #seishiro nagi #nagi x you #nagi x reader #nagi x y/n

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sugar-petals · 2 months ago

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Hi caro🌹, just wanted to make sure that heath ledger ( peace to his soul) was a pure natural ? ( or a soft natural) thanks a bunch ☀️

flamboyant natural. see how his arms are more angular and narrow than fleshy? his face is also more toned and chiseled > rounded/full. compare soft natural matt damon (5'9, much smaller than FN).

at 6'1, heath was likely big three (FN, D, SD). as the second tallest of all jokers, that only makes sense. heath had a strong physical presence, quite some vertical.

if you want to spot yin/a yin subtype in a guy, think william shatner. he became even more soft yin with age. apple cheeks! yin is absence of bone definition, heath is the opposite.

ledger's nose/temples are wide and point at his type, but his narrow hooded eyes, slim lips, and sharp chin show a dramatic undercurrent. among the big three, only FN has that, as D & SD are fully sharp yang already, without wide facial features. FN has that "mix".

a soft natural guy will also have a mix, but with romantic facial features, like skz chan's full yin lips and soft nose tip, without the sharply V-shaped jaw.

typecasting-wise, only FN could play a villain and also do a gay romance — D and SD are notoriously cast solely as the antagonist, but only FN flexibly moves between two yang types, which is why they have more perceived visual range like all subtypes (and gamines, who are already 2 in 1).

BONUS TYPING:

interestingly, the joker in the comics is a type representative of... suspense... let's see. tall, ultra sharp (pointed features > rounded lines), asymmetric, jagged, bony, gaunt, and fully intimidating.

there's only one kibbe type that could be drawn so terrifyingly, you have to look away, but can't. pure dramatic. the villain archetype.

he's dressed as a twisted gamine, ironically (clowns are associated with SG): flashy color blocks and linebroken geometrics, high collar, bowtie. but there are completely exaggerated sharp yang features underneath.

and an insane vertical. the writers say joker is 6'5! not a gamine height. see how they draw him with a head to toe trench coat, sharp shoulders sharp lapel no waist emphasis, that's your tell-tale sign of a pure D character. (and the red lip is a D signature)

#joker #heath ledger #star trek #william shatner #brokeback mountain #batman #kibbe #kibbe types #kibbe body types #cub mail 🐅#ask #you have an exquisite taste in men may i add!

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obsidian-pages777 · 1 year ago

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Pick a card: Your Future Aesthetic.Pick an Image

Left to Right Top Row-> Pile 1, Pile 2. Left Bottom Row -> Pile 3 [Pick one of the three]

If You Liked This Reading Sign up to TheObsidianPages777 Newsletter

+Free E-Guides on New Moon Manifestation and Gem Stone for Life Path

Reading 1: The Ethereal Dreamer

Card Drawn: The Star

Your future self will be deeply enchanted by an ethereal, dreamy aesthetic. Imagine a world filled with soft, flowing fabrics in pastel hues like lavender, blush pink, and sky blue. Your spaces will be adorned with fairy lights, delicate crystals, and celestial motifs such as stars and moons. This aesthetic is all about creating a serene, magical atmosphere that feels almost otherworldly.

Your fashion choices will lean towards flowing, bohemian dresses, sheer materials, and intricate lace details.Mostly pastel themes. Being attracted to light colors.Butterfly motifs are prominent. You might carry a free flowing nature to your personality representing your aspirations towards expansion of peace.

Home decor will feature airy, light-filled spaces with plenty of natural elements like feathers, geodes, and plants.

Your future self will seek to create a sanctuary that feels like a serene escape from reality, full of whimsical fairie-esque and gentle beauty.

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

Reading 2: The Bold Visionary

Card Drawn: The Emperor

Your future self will gravitate towards a bold, visionary aesthetic that exudes confidence and sophistication. This look is defined by strong lines, rich colors like deep navy, burgundy, and emerald, and luxurious materials such as velvet, leather, and silk.

Your fashion will include tailored suits, statement pieces with geometric patterns, and accessories that make a statement.

Home decor will feature modern furniture with clean lines, metallic accents, and striking art pieces. Your spaces will be meticulously organized and designed to project power and elegance.

The aesthetic you will love is one that commands attention and reflects a sense of authority and ambition, perfectly suited for a leader who is unafraid to stand out and make bold moves.

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

Reading 3: The Vintage Romantic

Card Drawn: The Lovers

Your future self will find joy in a vintage, romantic aesthetic that celebrates nostalgia and timeless beauty.

Picture a world filled with delicate floral patterns, antique furniture, and soft, muted tones like rose, cream, and sage green. Your fashion will be inspired by eras past, with a love for lace, vintage dresses, pearl accessories, and retro hairstyles.

Home decor will feature shabby chic elements, ornate picture frames, and cozy, intimate settings with lots of personal touches like family heirlooms and handmade crafts.

This aesthetic is all about creating a warm, inviting atmosphere that feels both elegant and charmingly old-fashioned. Your future self will delight in the romance and history embedded in this timeless style.

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

If You Liked This Reading Sign up to TheObsidianPages777 Newsletter

+Free E-Guides on New Moon Manifestation and Gem Stone for Life Path

#pick a photo #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #tarot cards #psychic readings #aesthetic #cottagecore #royalcore #fairycore #future life #future predictions #tarot reading #pick one #house aesthetic #fashion #your style

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player279achlys · 6 months ago

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The golden rabbit’s legacy (Hwang In-Ho x fem! reader)

Il-nam’s granddaughter taking his legacy and falling in love with the Frontman.

Pairing: Hwang In-Ho/Frontman x Original!female!Character

Summary: In the shadow of her grandfather’s empire of death, Melinoe, the brilliant granddaughter of Oh Il-Nam, steps into the blood-soaked legacy of the Squid Games. Determined to honor her family’s name, she rises as the most cunning and ruthless hostess the games have ever seen. But with power comes danger—not only from the players and scheming VIPs but from Hwang In-Ho, the enigmatic Front Man whose obsession with her knows no bounds.

As Melinoe reshapes the games into her own vision of twisted justice, she must navigate deadly alliances, unrelenting VIP attention, and In-Ho’s possessive devotion. When her grandfather enters the arena and Gi-Hun fights to survive, the stakes reach a breaking point.

Can you control the games without letting them destroy you—and will love be your salvation or your undoing?

Previous chapter: Introduction

Next chapter: Chapter I

Warnings: afab!, angst. Fear of losing someone. Smut (light kinda), grumpy x sunshine, dark romance, age gap, possessive, obsessed, paranoid and dominant In-Ho, daddy issues, yandere behaviour, jealousy, violence, murder, typical squid game stuff.

English isn’t my first language, if there are any mistakes, please forgive me. :)

Prologue:

The year was 2019, and the 32nd Squid Games loomed like a specter over a remote island cloaked in secrecy. Within the cold steel walls of the control room, Hwang In-Ho sat in his dark brown leather chair, the geometric lines of his mask casting sharp shadows against his pristine black suit. His gloved hands drummed rhythmically on the desk, though his thoughts were far from the screens flickering before him.

Ever since Oh Il-Nam had mentioned her, the granddaughter he adored, a storm had brewed within In-Ho’s chest. Melinoe. The name rolled through his mind like a haunting melody. A law graduate, fiercely intelligent and ambitious, and now, his obsession. For two years, he had watched over her from the shadows, keeping her safe from the treacherous world he inhabited. No boyfriends. No suitors. No threats. He ensured that. Every time someone tried to draw near, they vanished, erased from her life like an ink smudge wiped clean.

And now, she was here—on the island, no longer a distant specter but flesh and blood. She had arrived to take her place as her grandfather’s successor, a role that made his blood run cold. She couldn’t be part of this. Not her.

Melinoe gazed out of the helicopter window, her heart a mixture of dread and determination. The turquoise waves below seemed endless, their beauty a cruel irony against the darkness she was plunging into. Beside her, Oh Il-Nam sat, his frail frame betraying the vitality of his sharp mind. He was explaining the games, their origins, and their grim purpose with a calmness that unnerved her.

“I know this is overwhelming, Melinoe,” her grandfather said, his voice rasping. “But this is our legacy. It’s what we’ve built for generations to come. You’ll understand.”

“I already understand,” she replied, her tone resolute. “But I want to earn it. No favors, no shortcuts.”

Il-Nam’s lips curled into a smile, both proud and wistful. “You remind me of myself.”

As they landed, Melinoe’s sharp eyes scanned the compound. Guards in crimson suits stood at attention, their masked faces obscuring any hint of humanity. Among them, one figure stood out. A tall man clad in black, his geometric mask as foreboding as the aura he exuded.

In-Ho.

He stepped forward, his presence commanding attention, though his voice was measured when he greeted them. “Welcome. Everything has been prepared for your stay.

Melinoe felt a shiver run through her. His tone was polite, but there was something in it—a weight, a gravity that spoke of authority and… something else. Their eyes met briefly, and though his mask hid his face, she swore she could feel his gaze piercing through her.

In-Ho’s footsteps echoed through the sterile halls as he made his way to the control room. The image of her lingered in his mind—her bright eyes, the way she carried herself with an air of determination that only deepened his obsession. She was sunshine, pure and radiant, and he was the storm cloud that threatened to swallow her whole.

He didn’t want her here. She didn’t belong in this hell. But she was resolute, and In-Ho knew better than anyone that once a player entered the game, there was no turning back.

Hours later, he found her in the observation lounge, studying the compound’s layout on a tablet. The room’s dim lighting cast a soft glow over her, accentuating her features. She looked up as he entered, offering him a polite smile.

“You must be the famous Front Man,” she said, her voice teasing yet respectful.

“And you must be Melinoe,” he replied, his tone neutral.

“Eun-Seol,” she corrected, her lips curling into a smirk. “That’s the name I’ll use in the games.”

“You’re not joining,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. It wasn’t a question. It was a command.

Her brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not joining,” he repeated, stepping closer. “This isn’t a game for someone like you.”

Her temper flared. “Someone like me? You mean someone who isn’t desperate? Someone who doesn’t fit the narrative of redemption or revenge?” She stood, her chin held high. “If you think I’m going to sit on the sidelines while others risk their lives, you’re mistaken.”

In-Ho’s hands clenched at his sides. He loomed over her, his voice a low growl. “Do you have any idea what you’re stepping into? What these games will do to you?”

“I know exactly what I’m stepping into,” she shot back. “And I’m not afraid.”

Their gazes locked, the air between them charged with tension. For a moment, In-Ho allowed himself to admire her fire, even as it stoked the flames of his own desire. She was intoxicating, infuriating, and utterly irresistible.

Still not used to write on tumblr but HOPE you like this. On the previous story over 50 people liked it. I love you all so much <3

I hope to see you in here too. Hopefully you like it.

#front man #in ho #hwang in ho #love triangle #frontman #player 001 #the front man #lee byung hun #squid game #actually obsessive #in love #hwang in ho x reader #in ho x reader #frontman x reader #smut #angst with a happy ending #light angst #fluff

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shukraastro · 7 months ago

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Vedic Astrology - Future Spouse Prediction:

Name Meaning part 2

In the 1st part of this series (which I will link below) I explained how you can check for the planet that is ruling the Nakshatra in which your 7th house lord in the D1 chart is placed in and how that planet and the next chaining Nakshatra lord planet can give you clues about the theme of you spouses name meaning. To demonstrate how this technique works I have taken Brad Pitt as an example in part 1 and have given you themes of Sun and Ketu. In this part I will give you some more celebrity examples and the themes of the other planets.

Justin Bieber

He has Taurus in the 7th house in his D1 chart, therefore it is ruled by Venus, so we look in which Nakshatra Venus is placed in. His 7th lord Venus is placed in Purva Bhadrapada Nakshatra which is ruled by Jupiter. Jupiter is the 1st planet we take note of. Next we look again in which Nakshatra Jupiter is placed in. His Jupiter is placed in Vishakha Nakshatra which is also ruled by Jupiter. So what this tells us is that the meaning of his spouse's names will revolve around the themes of Jupiter. Now let's look at the themes of Jupiter.

Jupiter: anything related to wisdom/spirituality, learning/teaching, philosophical/mythological tales/stories, various deities, nature/outdoors/wilderness, travel, adventure, optimism/boldness, luck, abundance/expansion, morality and many more...

If we look at the meanings behind the names of Hailey Bieber's full name before she was married, we can see the themes of Jupiter playing out.

Hailey Rhode Baldwin

Hailey in Irish means wise one

Rhode has various meanings which fall under various Jupiterian themes. One of them is clearing in the woods (nature themed). The other meaning is where roses grow (also nature themed). The other one is the Greek island Rhodes which has a Greek mythological story behind its name.

Baldwin means a bold and brave friend (boldness themed)

As we can see all three of her names fall under the Jupiter archetype.

More example: this time predictive ones

Jungkook

He has Gemini in the 7th house in his D1 chart, therefore the 7th lord is Mercury and we look at the Nakshatra where his Mercury is placed in. His 7th lord Mercury is in Purva Phalguni Nakshatra which is ruled by Venus. We take note of Venus as the 1st planet and look further in which Nakshatra his Venus is placed in. Venus is placed in Chitra Nakshatra which is ruled by Mars and we take Mars as his 2nd chaining Nakshatra planet. Now we look at the themes of these two planets.

Venus: anything related to love, beauty, aesthetics, feminity, romance, desire, pleasures, elegance, flowers, music, poetry, art, wealth, justice/fairness, balance and many more...

Mars: anything related to war (fighting/soldier/weapons/conquering/land/fire), anger, passion/motivation/aspiration, masculinity, strength, speed, support/protection, hero/savior, and many more...

The meanings of his future spouse's first, (middle) and last name could revolve around the themes of these two planets Venus and Mars.

Bangchan

He has Scorpio in the 7th house in his D1 chart, therefore the 7th lord is Mars and we look at the Nakshatra in which his Mars is placed in. His 7th lord Mars is in Anuradha Nakshatra which is ruled by Saturn. We take note of Saturn as the 1st planet and look further in which Nakshatra Saturn is placed in. His Saturn is placed in Revati Nakshatra which is ruled by Mercury, we take note of Mercury as the 2nd chaining Nakshatra planet. Now we look at the themes of these two planets.

Saturn: anything related to time, nostalgia, discipline, life lessons, karma, maturity, struggles/hardships, serving/servant, work/careers, limitations/restrictions/rules/laws, ink, metals (but gold and silver are mostly ruled by Sun and Moon still), icyness, stone, firmness and many more...

Mercury: anything related to words/numbers, speaking/writing, intellect/cleverness, colors/vibrancy/creativity, geometrical forms/shapes, petiteness/youthfulness, children, joyfulness, a message/information, skills/crafts and many more...

The meanings of his future spouse's first, (middle) and last name could revolve around the themes of these two planets Saturn and Mercury.

Mingyu

He has Sagittarius in the 7th house in his D1 chart, therefore the 7th lord is Jupiter and we look at the Nakshatra in which his Jupiter is placed in. His 7th lord Jupiter is in Shravana Nakshatra which is ruled by Moon. We take note of Moon as the 1st planet and look further in which Nakshatra Moon is placed in. His Moon is placed in Purva Bhadrapada Nakshatra which is ruled by Jupiter, we take note of Jupiter as the 2nd chaining Nakshatra planet. Now we look at the themes of Moon, because we already discussed Jupiter before.

Moon: anything related to the moon itself, emotions/feelings, water, purity, sparkling, night, dreams, wishes, intuition, healing, sensuality, nourishment/care, home/mother, motherliness, calmness and many more...

And Jupiter (see themes mentioned above)

The meanings of his future spouse's first, (middle) and last name could revolve around the themes of these two planets Moon and Jupiter.

Other planet's themes

Rahu: anything related to exoticness/foreigness, the sky, clouds/fog/smoke/shadow, heights, illusions, uniqueness/unconventionality, rebelliousness, taboo, fame, mystery and many more...

Also as for names with cardinal directions in their meanings:

Sun is East. Mars is South. Venus is West. Jupiter is North.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

With that I have covered all the planets and their themes. Of course there is so much more to say for each planet but these are the ones in the overall frame so you can get an idea of what the names could be like. Hopefully this was informative and well explained.

Thanks for reading. See you soon. 🪐

#sidereal astrology #astro observations #vedic astrology #astro notes #future spouse #sidereal chart #vedic astro notes #sidereal #vedic astro observations #navamsa #darakaraka

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literaryvein-reblogs · 1 year ago

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Writing Notes: Love

TRIANGULAR THEORY OF LOVE

This theory holds that love can be understood in terms of three components that together can be viewed as forming the vertices of a triangle. The triangle is used as a metaphor, rather than as a strict geometric model.

These 3 components are intimacy, passion, and decision/commitment. Each component manifests a different aspect of love:

Intimacy - feelings of closeness, connectedness, and bondedness in loving relationships. It thus includes within its purview those feelings that give rise, essentially, to the experience of warmth in a loving relationship.

Passion - the drives that lead to romance, physical attraction, sexual consummation, and related phenomena in loving relationships. This component includes within its purview those sources of motivational and other forms of arousal that lead to the experience of passion in a loving relationship.

Decision/commitment - refers, in the short-term, to the decision that one loves a certain other, and in the long-term, to one's commitment to maintain that love. These two aspects of the decision/commitment component do not necessarily go together, in that one can decide to love someone without being committed to the love in the long-term, or one can be committed to a relationship without acknowledging that one loves the other person in the relationship.

The three components of love interact with each other.

Example: Greater intimacy may lead to greater passion or commitment, just as greater commitment may lead to greater intimacy, or with lesser likelihood, greater passion.

In general, then, the components are separable, but interactive with each other. Although all three components are important parts of loving relationships, their importance may differ from one relationship to another, or over time within a given relationship. Indeed, different kinds of love can be generated by limiting cases of different combinations of the components.

The 3 components of love generate 8 possible kinds of love when considered in combination. It is important to realize that these kinds of love are, in fact, limiting cases: No relationship is likely to be a pure case of any of them.

Nonlove - refers simply to the absence of all three components of love.

Liking - results when one experiences only the intimacy component of love in the absence of the passion and decision/commitment components.

Infatuated love - results from the experiencing of the passion component in the absence of the other components of love.

Empty love - emanates from the decision that one loves another and is committed to that love in the absence of both the intimacy and passion components of love.

Romantic love - derives from a combination of the intimacy and passion components.

Companionate love - derives from a combination of the intimacy and decision/commitment components of love.

Fatuous love - results from the combination of the passion and decision/commitment components in the absence of the intimacy component.

Consummate or complete love - results from the full combination of all 3 components.

The geometry of the "love triangle" depends upon two factors: amount of love and balance of love.

Differences in amounts of love are represented by differing areas of the love triangle:

The greater the amount of love, the greater the area of the triangle.

Differences in balances of the three kinds of love are represented by differing shapes of triangles.

Example: Balanced love (roughly equal amounts of each component) is represented by an equilateral triangle.

Love does not involve only a single triangle.

Rather, it involves a great number of triangles, only some of which are of major theoretical and practical interest.

Example: it is possible to contrast real versus ideal triangles. One has not only a triangle representing his or her love for the other, but also a triangle representing an ideal other for that relationship.

It is important to distinguish between triangles of feelings and triangles of action.

THEORY OF LOVE AS A STORY

Love triangles emanate from stories. Almost all of us are exposed to large numbers of diverse stories that convey different conceptions of how love can be understood.

Although the number of possible stories is probably infinite, certain genres of stories seem to keep emerging again and again in pilot analyses done of literature, film, and people’s oral descriptions of relationships.

Stories found to be particularly useful in conceptualizing people's notions of love are:

Addiction. Strong anxious attachment; clinging behavior; anxiety at thought of losing partner.

Art. Love of partner for physical attractiveness; importance to person of partner's always looking good.

Business. Relationships as business propositions; money is power; partners in close relationships as business partners.

Collection. Partner viewed as "fitting in" to some overall scheme; partner viewed in a detached way.

Cookbook. Doing things a certain way (recipe) results in a relationship being more likely to work out; departure from recipe for success leads to increased likelihood of failure.

Fantasy. Often expects to be saved by a knight in shining armor or to marry a princess and live happily ever after.

Game. Love as a game or sport.

Gardening. Relationships need to be continually nurtured and tended to.

Government. (a) Autocratic. One partner dominates or even controls other. (b) Democratic. Two partners equally share power.

History. Events of relationship form an indelible record; keep a lot of records—mental or physical.

Horror. Relationships become interesting when you terrorize or are terrorized by your partner.

House and Home. Relationships have their core in the home, through its development and maintenance.

Humor. Love is strange and funny.

Mystery. Love is a mystery and you shouldn't let too much of yourself be known.

Police. You've got to keep close tabs on your partner to make sure he/she toes the line, or you need to be under surveillance to make sure you behave.

Pornography. Love is dirty, and to love is to degrade or be degraded.

Recovery. Survivor mentality; view that after past trauma, person can get through practically anything.

Religion. Either views love as a religion, or love as a set of feelings and activities dictated by religion.

Sacrifice. To love is to give of oneself or for someone to give of him or herself to you.

Science. Love can be understood, analyzed, and dissected, just like any other natural phenomenon.

Science Fiction. Feeling that partner is like an alien—incomprehensible and very strange.

Sewing. Love is whatever you make it.

Theater. Love is scripted, with predictable acts, scenes, and lines.

Travel. Love is a journey.

War. Love is a series of battles in a devastating but continuing war.

Student-teacher. Love is a relationship between a student and a teacher.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References Writing Notes: Hate

#writing notes #writeblr #spilled ink #dark academia #love #emotions #psychology #writers on tumblr #writing prompt #studyblr #character development #poets on tumblr #poetry #literature #lit #light academia #writing reference #writing resources

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exilethegame · 2 years ago

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Do you have a list of the ROs and like a description of them :( can't find it

I have one floating about somewhere, but here's an up-to-date one! :)

Vethna Mevnrael (they/them) Appearance: 5’9, skin the color of bronze with long wavy hair that’s only a few shades darker than their skin. Their eyes are a greyed-out blue-green and glow in the darkness due to magic. They wear a deep v-neck black gown with golden embroidery, an outrageous amount of rings and jewelry, and their signature wine-red lipstick. Background: Vethna hails from Vygrand-- otherwise known as the sworn rival land of your home country. Where you have been raised to resent most, if not all magic, they have been raised to thrive on it. You don't know much about them-- just that they're on the run from someone, something, powerful, and you're the only one who can protect them. That, and they have a whole lot of gold... almost as much as they have secrets.

Nikke Ivante (he/him) Appearance: 6’0, pale green skin and covered in iridescent scales. Purple bags sit under his pale green eyes, which, like all mythosi, glow in the darkness. Wears smudged black kohl across his eyes. His hair is long, half shaved, and braided, mostly black with streaks of white. His tongue is forked and his sharp fangs often protrude from out past his lips. His arms are covered in tattoos of snakes winding downwards, and on his neck sit geometric tattoos. Background: Nikke has been sent to kill you or kidnap you-- you're not entirely sure which it is, and you don't intend to find out. He's crude and sarcastic and overall a brute. He doesn't seem to take his own life seriously, nonetheless yours, and you have no doubt he's going to capture you or die trying. Hell-- maybe he'll just kill you both while he's at it... you know, for fun.

Jost Ivante (she/her) (Not romanceable in demo yet) Appearance: 6’0 with pale green skin and iridescent scales. Her features are sharp and she has multiple piercings, the most notable being her bridge piercing and snake-bites. She has tattoos down her arms and on her neck in geometric patterns. Her hair is waist-length and slicked back and filled with braids and tokens, and just like her brother, is streaked with white. While she wears dark paint over her eyes, it’s done in a manner much neater than Nikke’s. Background: Jost is Nikke's identical twin sister-- and, if possible, she's twice as mean and just as rude. She's more ruthless than her brother, but she doesn't quite have the fighting power to back up her venom-laced threats and taunts. Nonetheless, she fights dirty, and if you want to beat her, you're going to have to be smart.

Amilia Von Clamile (she/her) Appearance: 5’3 with snow white skin and blood red hair that’s poorly cut and uneven, coming to her chin on one shoulder and sitting well past her collarbone on the other. Her eyes are green and her face is covered in freckles. A deep scar juts into her lip on the right side of her face and runs down her jaw and neck. Background: Amilia's a fae-- the very kind of mythosi you've been raised to fear and have spent most of your life killing. She's all smiles and nerves, but you see something else in her eyes, sometimes. Something cold. Something calculative. Everyone seems keen to turn a blind eye to her, but you know a liar when you see one... don't you?

Syfyn Javall (she/her) Appearance: 5’11 with warm toned skin that’s often burnt red, leaving splotchy tans along her body. Her eyes are a steely grey, hair blonde and cut to barely brush against her shoulders. She tries to often wear it up despite this, resulting in most of the hair falling out messily. She's covered in scars with feathers in her hair, and her pupils are slits. Her teeth are all mostly sharp. Background: Syfyn Javall, The Brazen Griffin, Second-in-Command to the Plaithian Army. She used to work beneath you once-- used to fight beside you and honor you both as a comrade and friend. You grew up together within the military. When you had nobody, you had each other. But then you betrayed her-- or maybe she betrayed you. You don't know who started what, but you do know that the blood is on both of your hands now.

Sabir Du Vaelas (he/him) Appearance: 6’1 with dark, cool toned skin, black eyes, and long black hair kept in locs. He wears expensive robes that are a deep teal and is covered head to toe in expensive silver jewelry, most of which is covered in snake symbolism. Sabir's ears are pierced in several areas, and he tends to wear silver eyeliner and highlight. Background: Sabir, otherwise known as The Silven Viper, Eye of Plaithus, used to be your charge. He's a politician-- one of the better ones, if such a thing exists. Your past together was volatile-- perhaps you were lovers, or friends, or enemies. Either way, he saved your life when you otherwise would've been put to death by the state, and you owe him thanks for that much.

Freedom (gender selectable) Appearance: 6′0 with pallid, paper-white skin and bronze eyes that appear to almost be filled with a shimmering liquid. Their hair is waist-length and black with an iridescent sheen to it, long black claws bordering on talons on their hands. They wear long, tight fitting black robes. Background: You hear its voice sometimes, when it's quiet and you're alone. You try to tune it out. You try to ignore it. It forces you to remember things. To feel things. It's within you, wiggling and writhing, waiting for the right moment to attack. At times it feels predatory. At others, its presence is comforting-- protective and doting. It'll become whatever you want it to be. It'll become whatever you need it to be.

#answered #ro intro #vethna #nikke #jost #amilia #sabir #syfyn #freedom #I have silently shrunken Amilia through the years don't worry about it...

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