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plutosunshine · 2 months ago

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What changes do you need to make in your life? Uranus in houses

Uranus in the 1st house

If you have Uranus in the 1st house, life is kinda asking you — maybe even pushing you — to embrace your individuality completely. Like, not just surface-level "I'm a little different" — but deep, radical self-acceptance. You're meant to stand out. You’re not here to fit into neat little boxes or live by someone else’s blueprint. And honestly, the more you try to "blend in," the more uncomfortable and restless you’ll probably feel.

Change for you often looks like breaking free from old versions of yourself — shedding layers of identity that don't match who you actually are inside. It's almost like you have to reinvent yourself several times through life, and each time you get closer to your truest, most electric version.

Also, people with Uranus in the 1st house sometimes shock others without meaning to — just by being themselves. If you've ever felt like people either instantly "get you" or are like, "Whoa, what are they about?" — that's totally part of your magic. You're meant to wake people up just by existing. So part of the change you might need is learning not to shrink yourself to make others more comfortable. Your energy shakes things up, and the world needs that.

Basically, life is asking you to be bold about who you are. Own your quirks, trust your instincts, and don't be afraid of people who don't "get it." Your real people will. ⚡

Uranus in the 2nd house

When Uranus is in your 2nd house, life kinda whispers (or sometimes yells), "Hey, your relationship to money, possessions, and self-worth isn't meant to be traditional." Stability in those areas? It's a moving target. You might experience sudden gains and losses, or your income might come from weird, unconventional, or unexpected places — like random side hustles, tech stuff, spiritual work, inventions, or just not the typical 9-5 route.

You're not supposed to cling too hard to stuff — money, belongings, even security in the "normal" sense — because Uranus wants you to find your true value somewhere deeper. It's like life challenges you to stay flexible, resourceful, and open to change. If you ever try to "lock down" your finances too tightly, life might throw curveballs just to remind you: "Hey, you can't control this like everyone else does."

What you’re really being nudged toward is a more authentic, liberated version of security — one that's based on your own inner worth, not just how much is in your bank account or what you own. That can feel wild sometimes, but it’s where your freedom and true abundance live.

Also, with Uranus here, you probably have some super unique talents or ways of creating value — like, skills that aren't "standard issue." Part of your life path is trusting that and not trying to be cookie-cutter about how you "should" earn or what you "should" have.

In short: you’re here to redefine what stability means — on your terms. And once you stop trying to do it the way everyone else expects, the real magic flows.

Uranus in the 3rd house

If you’ve got Uranus in the 3rd house, your mind doesn’t work like everyone else's — and that’s a huge gift. You're wired to think fast, differently, outside the box. Like, while everyone else is still putting the pieces of a puzzle together, you're already looking at the next puzzle two steps ahead. Your ideas can be brilliant, futuristic, and honestly, sometimes even too "out there" for people to immediately understand.

Life pushes you to communicate in your own unique way — whether that’s through writing, speaking, tech, memes, art, whatever fits your flavor. You’re probably not here to just parrot what’s already been said — you're here to spark new conversations. It’s very "I have something different to say, and if you don't get it, that's fine — you'll catch up."

Change-wise, Uranus in the 3rd house wants you to free your voice. Don’t water yourself down just to be understood easily. You're meant to bring new ideas into the world, even if it feels like you're shouting into the void sometimes. You’re also probably here to teach or influence people in unexpected ways — even just by chatting or posting online. You might drop a random comment that seriously changes someone's life without even trying.

Also, heads up: your day-to-day life can be kinda unpredictable. Last-minute trips, sudden changes in plans, weird encounters with siblings or neighbors — that's all very Uranus 3rd house energy. The universe likes to keep your environment stimulating, because your brain craves newness and movement.

So overall, life’s asking you to trust your strange, electric mind — and share it, even if it feels like no one gets it at first. You’re a mental pioneer. 🧠⚡

Uranus in the 4th house

When Uranus is in your 4th house, home and family roots are not exactly "normal" — and they’re not supposed to be. You might have grown up in a household that felt a little unstable, eccentric, chaotic, or just different from what most people around you experienced. Maybe there were sudden moves, surprising family dynamics, or a general sense that home didn’t always mean "predictable."

At a soul level, life is nudging you to redefine what home and emotional security mean for yourself. You’re probably not meant to live a super traditional, white-picket-fence kind of life — unless you totally reinvent what that looks like for you. You're wired to crave emotional freedom as much as emotional connection, which can be a weird balancing act. You want to belong, but not if it means losing yourself.

One big change Uranus asks from you is to detach from old family patterns that no longer support who you are becoming. You might be the one in your family who “breaks the chain” — doing life differently, healing old emotional wounds, choosing freedom over stuck loyalty.

Also, you may randomly move at unexpected times, live in unusual places, have a very unique home setup, or create a kind of “chosen family” of your own. Home for you isn't necessarily one physical place — it’s more about finding people and spaces where you can breathe, be weird, and feel truly safe being yourself.

If you ever feel like your foundation is shaking, it’s usually Uranus asking, "Is this still real for you? Or are you clinging to something out of fear?" And if it’s not authentic, life will eventually push you to shake it loose.

In short: your soul's mission is to create an emotional life based on truth, not tradition — and it's okay if it looks totally different from what you grew up with. In fact, it’s supposed to. 💫

Uranus in the 5th house

When Uranus is in your 5th house, life is saying loud and clear: "You’re not here to create like everyone else. You’re here to shock, inspire, and completely rewrite the rules of self-expression." Your creativity, your passions, even the way you love — it’s all electric, unpredictable, and absolutely unique to you.

You probably get flashes of inspiration out of nowhere — like one minute you're just living your life, the next you’re hit with a wild idea that’s lightyears ahead of its time. Follow those sparks. Your soul is happiest when you’re making or doing something that feels exciting, different, even a little rebellious.

When it comes to love and dating? Yeahhh... not exactly "by the book" either. 😂 You need excitement, freedom, and real connection — not just safe, boring routines. People who try to tie you down too fast or expect you to follow some romance script might make you want to run for the hills. Fast. Love for you needs to feel like an adventure, not an obligation.

Also, with Uranus in the 5th, you're meant to experiment with joy — find what lights you up and don’t be afraid if it changes over time. Hobbies, art, passion projects, even the way you relate to kids (if you have them or ever do) will all have a non-traditional flavor.

The big change Uranus asks of you is to trust your weird, wonderful self-expression, even if it doesn’t make sense to others. You’re not here to color inside the lines — you're here to invent whole new colors. 🎨⚡

And honestly, when you really let yourself play your way, life becomes magic.

Uranus in the 6th house

If Uranus is in your 6th house, life is basically saying: "You’re not meant to do work, health, or daily life the 'normal' way — and the sooner you own that, the freer and happier you’ll be."

You probably get restless with routines that feel too rigid or boring. Clocking into a 9-5 every day doing the same thing forever? Hard pass. Your soul craves freedom in your work life — meaning freelance gigs, weird career paths, sudden changes in job direction, or working somewhere that lets you be independent or innovative. Traditional setups might feel like they drain your life force unless they give you enough space to be you.

And your relationship to health is just as unique. Your body might respond weirdly to stress, routine, diet, or even conventional medicine. Sometimes it’s like your system is more sensitive to energy shifts — so listening to your own intuition, trying alternative healing methods, or mixing different styles might actually work better for you than following the "one size fits all" advice.

The big thing Uranus pushes you to change? Let go of trying to force yourself into boring, mechanical rhythms just because you think you “should.” Find your own rhythm. Make your day-to-day life feel alive, not suffocating. It’s about learning how to serve the world and honor your individuality at the same time — not sacrificing one for the other.

Also — random note — you might suddenly shift habits, diets, or routines overnight. Like, you wake up one day and think, "I'm never eating sugar again" or "I'm quitting this job today." And if you trust those intuitive jolts (and they come from real insight, not just rebellion), they can actually be super healthy for you.

In short: build a life that lets you work and live in a way that feels electric, free, and true — even if it looks totally different from what everyone else is doing. 🛠️⚡

Uranus in the 7th house

If you’ve got Uranus in the 7th house, life is basically setting you up for relationships that break the mold. The traditional "settle down, follow the script" thing? Yeah... not really your destiny. Deep down, you crave connection — but it has to come with a huge side of freedom, authenticity, and excitement.

You might attract super unusual, eccentric, brilliant, rebellious partners — people who are totally different from what your family or friends expect. Or your relationships might start in weird, sudden, out-of-nowhere ways. Sometimes it's instant sparks, sometimes it's chaos, but it’s never boring.

One big thing Uranus asks of you is to rethink what partnership means. You’re not here to merge into someone else or lose yourself in "we" — you're here to form relationships where both people still get to be totally themselves. If someone tries to control you or box you in, your soul is gonna scream, "Nope!" even if everything looks good on paper.

There can also be sudden changes in relationships — fast beginnings, sudden breakups, on-and-off vibes — because your partnerships are meant to reflect growth and evolution, not just stability for stability’s sake. Long-term, the kind of relationship that works for you is one that feels like a conscious choice every day, not an obligation you’re stuck in.

You’re meant to experience partnership as something that’s alive, surprising, and full of breathing room — not something that clips your wings. 🪽

In short: you’re here to build new models of love and partnership, ones that are real, free, and yours — even if they don’t look traditional to the outside world.

Uranus in the 8th house

If Uranus is in your 8th house, you are wired for deep transformation, but it’s not going to be slow, steady, or easy — it’s going to come in flashes, breakthroughs, and total holy sht* moments. Life doesn’t let you stay the same for long. You’re built to shed skins, reinvent yourself, and go through some seriously wild inner changes that shock even you sometimes.

The 8th house is about shared energy — intimacy, deep trust, merging resources, death and rebirth (emotionally, spiritually, and sometimes literally dealing with loss). Uranus here brings sudden shifts in all those deep areas. You might experience unexpected changes with money you share with others — inheritance, investments, debts, etc. But even bigger than money? Emotional intimacy. You probably don’t do closeness the "normal" way. You need freedom even in deep bonds — meaning you’ll crave deep connection but also fear losing your independence if it gets too entangled or heavy.

Part of your growth is learning how to let people in without feeling trapped. And honestly? You're meant to attract people who help awaken you — lovers, friends, mentors — not just keep you safe and cozy. Relationships with you can feel electric, transformative, and a little chaotic because you wake people up, and they wake you up right back.

Also, you probably have some crazy strong intuition about hidden things — emotional undercurrents, secrets, even metaphysical stuff like energy healing, astrology, or psychic phenomena. Uranus in the 8th house often gives flashes of insight into the unseen realms.

In short: you’re here to transform, to trust your inner flashes of insight, and to live through depth without losing your freedom. It’s intense, but you were built for this kind of magic. 🖤⚡

Uranus in the 9th house

If Uranus is in your 9th house, your soul is basically wired for exploration, expansion, and truth-seeking — but in the most wild, non-traditional way possible. You’re not here to just accept what you're taught; you’re here to question everything and find your own truth, even if it’s way outside the "normal" zone.

You might have an intense need for freedom through learning, travel, philosophy, or spirituality — but you’ll always approach those things in your own way. Like, traditional religious systems? Academic structures? "One-size-fits-all" beliefs? Nah, that’s not gonna cut it for you. You need room to roam, both mentally and literally. ✈️📚

Big changes with Uranus here usually look like sudden revelations that totally flip your worldview. One day you might believe in X, the next day you're like, "Nope, it’s Y," because a flash of insight hit you so hard you can’t unsee it. And travel? Yeah — you might have unexpected moves, spontaneous trips, or a restless need to experience different cultures and ways of thinking. Even if you stay in one place physically, your mind is always somewhere new, exploring.

In relationships and life in general, you need people around you who respect your mental freedom. Anyone trying to force you into their belief system or limit your thinking? Instantly a no-go for you.

The change Uranus is pushing you toward is breaking free from inherited beliefs and creating your own understanding of the universe — one that's alive, evolving, and completely yours. You’re here to be a trailblazer in thought, not a follower.

In short: You’re meant to wake people up to bigger, freer ways of seeing life — starting with yourself. 🧠🚀

Uranus in the 10th house

If you have Uranus in your 10th house, you are not here to have a "normal" career or public life — at all. Like, truly, you’re built to shock, inspire, and change the system by just being yourself out in the world.

You might have this deep, restless urge to do work that’s different, groundbreaking, or ahead of its time. Sitting at a desk doing the same thing every day under someone else's rules? Not it. You need freedom, innovation, and the space to carve your own path. A lot of people with this placement either blow up suddenly (like, overnight success out of nowhere) or have a career path that's full of random twists, turns, starts, and reboots. You're not supposed to have a straight-line journey. You’re meant to reinvent yourself publicly over and over.

And when it comes to your reputation? People might see you as rebellious, brilliant, eccentric — maybe even a little unpredictable. Some will admire it, some won’t know what to do with you — but either way, you’re unforgettable. Your energy shakes things up wherever you go, especially in the areas of leadership, fame, career, and achievement.

The big shift Uranus demands from you is: don’t force yourself into traditional definitions of "success." You're supposed to define success on your terms, even if nobody else gets it at first. When you stay true to your weird, genius path, that's when the universe really opens doors for you.

You’re basically a walking permission slip for others to realize they can be successful without selling their soul. 🔥

In short: You’re here to change the game — not play it. 🛸🌟

Uranus in the 11th house

If you have Uranus in the 11th house, you’re literally built to find your people — but it’s not gonna happen in a typical, cookie-cutter way. You're supposed to connect with wildly different, progressive, visionary communities — the weirdos, the geniuses, the rebels, the dreamers — the ones who don't just fit in but want to change the whole damn system.

You’re not meant to just be part of any group; you’re here to help invent new movements, ideas, and futures. You might feel restless or out of place in traditional circles because your soul knows you need a tribe that lets you fully be yourself — no masks, no small talk, no shrinking.

You might also notice that friendships and group connections in your life can be sudden, electric, and sometimes unstable. People can come into your life fast and leave just as fast — but every connection usually brings some kind of awakening or shift, even if it’s short-lived.

Career and dreams? You’re meant to dream big — not just for yourself, but for the collective. Like, you’re here to push humanity forward in your own way, whether that’s through tech, social movements, arts, spirituality, or whatever wild path your heart picks. And honestly, you're usually ahead of your time — you see futures that other people haven't even imagined yet.

The big shift Uranus asks of you is: don’t cling to old friendships, networks, or dreams just because they’re comfortable. Your soul craves growth and evolution. And sometimes that means walking away when a community no longer matches your vibration — even if it’s hard.

In short: you’re here to shake up the collective, connect with your soul tribe, and dream the future into being. 🌍🚀

Uranus in the 12th house

If Uranus is in your 12th house, you’ve got this deep, electric connection to the unseen — the collective unconscious, intuition, dreams, energy fields, things most people can’t even put into words. You’re wired to sense shifts before they happen. Sometimes you’ll just know stuff without knowing how you know. It's like you have a built-in cosmic antenna — picking up on vibes, future trends, hidden emotions, even collective spiritual shifts.

But here's the tricky part: because the 12th house is so hidden, a lot of this Uranian lightning might be happening under the surface, inside you — not always super obvious to you or others. You might feel restless without knowing why, or you might have sudden awakenings that feel totally random but actually aren’t.

Freedom, for you, is an inside job. It’s about freeing yourself from old karmic patterns, unconscious fears, and anything that cages your inner wildness. You’re here to break free from invisible prisons — things like self-sabotage, outdated spiritual beliefs, hidden anxieties.

Also? You’re super plugged into the collective energy. When society goes through chaos or awakening (and let’s be real, it does a lot these days), you might feel it in your body and soul before anything even happens externally. You’re like a cosmic early warning system. 🚨✨

The shift Uranus is asking from you is: trust your flashes of insight, even if they come from dreams, meditation, or deep inner nudges that don’t seem logical at first. And learn how to ground your energy so you don’t get overwhelmed by everything you’re sensing.

You’re meant to be a kind of hidden awakener — someone whose very presence, even quietly, stirs change in others on a deep, soul level. 🌀💫

In short: you’re here to awaken not just your own soul, but the collective dream — and it all starts with trusting your inner electric magic.

#astrology #astro #natal chart #astro observations #birth chart #astro notes #astrology posts #astrology lover #astrology community #astrology blog #uranus in houses #uranus

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pisceantarot · 3 months ago

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⋆ ｡ 𐀔 ° ‧ what type of celebrity would you be?

PICK A GIF AND DISCOVER... why do your fans admire you? what makes your energy so captivating? would there be any scandals? 🤭 a fun reading to see what type of celebrity you'd be!

ꕤ * ． pile one. → ꕤ * ． pile two.

ꕤ * ． pile three. → ꕤ * ． pile four.

relax your body, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. ask yourself: "which pile has a message for me today?" when you open your eyes, what image did your eyes fall on? what image do you feel most drawn to energetically? that's your pile!

this reading is timeless! it will cross your path whenever it's meant to find you 🍀 this reading was made with the purpose of giving you a confidence boost! perhaps this energy will inspire you to channel your inner star 💫 you deserve to be seen and admired, that's for sure!

PILE # 01 : JENNIE

you walk into a room and people just sense your stardom. you command respect, but not in an imposing way. no, you do so quietly (from a place of utter self-love and self-respect) and people admire you even more for this! you're quite smart, you play the game well. i see that you can be very strategic and easily sense people's intentions with you. this is your gift! your intuition will always lead you down the road of success. you'd have an unshakeable sense of self, yet are always ready to evolve and be ahead of the curve. no one would do it like you, that's for sure! (i'm hearing that you don't even play the game, you make the rules. definitely it-girl/a-lister vibes!!)

you have the energy of someone who'd be a great influencer! you're a trendsetter, you'd wear/promote something and the following week 50 micro-influencers are wearing the exact same outfit. people would have pinterest boards filled with your pictures!! i'm hearing that you could sell scraps of paper and people would still fight for it just because your name is associate with it... your fans would be very passionate about you, writing essays in the comments defending you 😭 but i also see that you'd be the type of celebrity that people just know. if you were a singer, for example, even if people didn't know your songs they would still recognise your beautiful face<3

it's very lonely at the top, though. i'm sensing this pile might be a little bit more sensitive, and it makes me feel very protective over you 😭 it's funny because i see this pile being disillusioned by fame very quickly. you'd hate the backstabbing, the hit pieces, the superficialness of those around you (despite loving your craft). there could be fears of being misunderstood, the pressure of perfectionism weighing heavy on you... you're born to be a star, but the way everyone wants a piece of you doesn't feel quite right...

channeled message based off of this energy:

spirit wants you to know that you can be your authentic self. your voice and words will resonate with so many people!! if you want to be a content creator of any type (or if you want to create/become an artist), i see that your path to fame won't be paved by anyone else before you. no, your path is unique. you should follow your own intuition when it comes to your career and do what feels most aligned, because no class or mentor will provide you with any meaningful answers 😭 while this path might appear isolating and frustrating, make sure not to drown yourself in loneliness. don't compare yourself to others when you're meant to be on a whole different level! just focus on your own projects and development, and things will align the way they're meant to be!

PILE # 02 : SABRINA

oh, you're so incredibly charming<33 you smile and people just fall at your feet! they can't help but feel giddy and swoon at even a fraction of your attention... the power you hold, pile 2! you're a force to be reckoned with, i heard this very clearly... as a celebrity i see you being very determined to succeed. you have your eyes set on the prize and you refuse to back down. you're the type who built themselves from the ground up, and this is something to be proud of! your hard work paid off and everything you earned would be rightfully deserved.

people might have the tendency to underestimate you, though. they look at you and think you're harmless... but then you go and prove them wrong by blowing them away with your talent... you made them look like a damn fool for ever doubting you, that's for sure 😔</3 i love the energy of an underdog here, it makes people want to root for you!! when people first look at you, they might not expect you to be as talented as you are. so when you finally show them what you're made of, they're just absolutely dumbfounded that they didn't notice you earlier. i see you playing into this misconception and using it to your advantage, though! i just heard elle woods say: "what, like it's hard?" loveeee this

your fans would absolutely adore you, fanservice would be something that's very natural to you! i don't see you hating this either, you really enjoy casual interactions with people who support you. you'd be a very grounded celebrity, too!! you don't let the fame or the money get to your head, because you know where you started and how long it took you to get to the top. you don't lose yourself in the chaos or the hate or any fears... quite the opposite, actually!! you use it as an opportunity to get even stronger and wiser! love this attitude<3

channeled message based off of this energy:

this pile is very lucky because i'm seeing many (unexpected) blessings heading your way! your next era in life? sitting back comfortably while you watch your heart's desires unfold in front of you. i see a big manifestation coming in, your hard work finally paying off!! very abundant energy, i'm very excited for you<3 spirit wants you to know that you've earned these blessings, that you've come a long way from where you were before. this period of your life is really about thriving rather than surviving. very beautiful energy!! (i also heard that, if you're facing any issues, that they will resolve themselves. just trust your guides and watch how your problems disappear into thin air!)

PILE # 03 : LILY-ROSE

ohhh, you'd definitely be an enigma! people will love this about you, but it will also frustrate them. you have strong boundaries about what the public is allowed to know about you. (i'm sensing vibes of not having any big social media presence, being annoyed at interviewers when they ask intrusive questions about your personal life rather than the project you worked so hard on, no one knowing who you're dating, etc...) yet you're always invited (having front row seats, mind you) to all the big events. (your fans might receive scraps from you but... if they do get something, they absolutely devour it!! even in 2025 they wouldn't be able to shut up about that beautiful haute couture dress you wore in 2021 😭)

there's a sense of intrigue and mystery surrounding you, because no one knows a thing about you yet everyone is always captivated by you. i'm sensing siren/dark feminine type of energy. very seductive! you teasingly play things off with a shrug and a million dollar smile like "wouldn't you like to know?" you'll never reveal yourself to them because 1.) you loooove being seen as a mystery 2.) you find it absolutely hilarious to keep people guessing and 3.) they don't deserve this type of access to you.

people never know your next move and this is your power. i see people really admiring your talent (and knowledge)! you're the authentic celebrity where you're in it for the love of the art rather than the fame and the fortune (even if it's a nice bonus!). you're the type of celebrity that studies the history of whatever field you're in and are well versed in different genres, admiring and respecting many great figures who came before you. you don't care about what people think of you as long as you are satisfied with the outcome of your project. this is very mature and attractive energy!

channeled message based off of this energy:

you're hard to read, i won't lie to you 😭 if you've been working on setting boundaries i really see that this is something incredibly beneficial. you're comfortable in your own energy, and this is very seductive! if you have the tendency to be overly critical of yourself, i'm hearing spirit say that you might need to be less demanding and kinder towards your body. you have a tough outer shell, i don't think you're the type to easily open up to people. this is a good thing! just make sure that you aren't pushing people out who mean well. you can be vulnerable with the right people and have it be a safe experience!! you deserve to be taken care of (i'm feeling like i just want to pamper you) and experience the softness of life!!

PILE # 04 : SHAY

you'd definitely be your celebrity's favourite celebrity! you move in silence, but once you make a sound... boy, people are ready to drop everything in order to pay attention and listen! your fame isn't bombastic or over-the-top. it doesn't need to be, because people respect you. you command respect through your raw authenticity. you're not a manufactured doll who needs to put on a whole spiel in order to appear interesting. you don't need to do this because your talent speaks for itself. this is very potent energy!

what i'm picturing is a musician standing on stage with only a microphone and a guitar. you don't need a big show or any grand gestures to capture people's attention, they're willing to give it to you just because you're you. you might have striking features, i'm sensing there's a beauty about you that's just sooooo mesmerising. (i'm feeling like i want to get lost in your eyes... feeling a bit shy...)

people would absolutely root for you (i'm sensing the vibe of people being absolutely outraged if you happen to lose a grammy or an oscar or whatever prestigious award 😭 and it's not just your fandom, several different fandoms would be banding together to express their anger). this is simply because they know you're the best of the best. you worked hard for everything you achieved, you don't need scandals to keep your name relevant, and you always show up! this is what people love most about you, the fact that you always show up at the top of your game without any complaints<33 you paved the way for everyone behind you, too!

channeled message based off of this energy:

god, i wouldn't be surprised if this pile went through hell and back. i really see you coming back stronger every time something (or someone) tries to bring you down. nothing fazes you anymore, you just take it on the chin and move on. spirit is telling me that difficult times are about to end soon!! you will find peace and you will find comfort within yourself (and your environment). i'm hearing so clearly that you always got your own back, but spirit wants you to know that they got your back as well! you're born to succeed simply because of who you are. once you truly embody what you know you deserve, i see so many opportunities bringing you great abundance!! know that you don't have to fight so hard to get what you want, practice being in a state of receiving rather than chasing<33

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot reading #free reading #free tarot reading #tarotblr #tarot community #intuitive reading #*mine #just a fun and silly reading<3

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lilyinmysoul · 3 months ago

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Incomprehensible

JacksonJoel x F!Reader

WC: 4k

Summary: Old man Joel is having trouble lasting a whole round on top.

Warnings: Smut, piv, sub joel, kinda angsty, comfort, Joel feels all sad and like he’s not good enough, Joel is 57 with back problems, handjob, vivid descriptions of bodily fluids, praise kink, domestic Joel, soft dom reader, reader calls Joel ‘old man’ once or twice, joel grips the headboard, (implied) age gap

Note: I’ve wanted to write subby Joel for a while, and I don’t think I went subby enough but I still love this fic. I took way too long writing it, so, no proofread. If there’s any mistakes, tell me. If you have any tips, tell me. Please reblog if you like, and if you want more fics like this, tell me, because I love my Jackson Joel and I have a kink for babying old men

As Joel trudged tiredly up the driveway, he watched the porch light flicker and dim, only to return to its original warm glow a moment later. The bulb was old and it would be difficult to find another; he didn’t want to think about it, he had a long enough list of things to do already.

As more people moved into Jackson, more babies were born, and more houses built, there was more work to be done around town and more responsibilities to be dealt with. Joel’s hair had greyed significantly in the past year, and still his patrols were getting longer. Even though his muscles felt extra sore after a long day of scavenging, he’d still have to get up the next morning and do it again.

Joel was fifty-seven two months ago, and as winter settled upon the town and rain puddles took a permanent residence on the sidewalks, he was becoming increasingly aware of it.

In recent weeks, light dustings of snow would fall from the sky, previews of the inches yet to come as the cold months approached. Joel’s heavy boots clomp against the cement path to your shared home, stepping in slush that crunches, half frozen, under his feet.

In his age, his fingers were especially sensitive to the cold, and it was likely that his brown leather gloves were the only thing protecting them from turning purple in the frosty air. Even so, he feels numb, and he rubs his covered hands against each other. Joel steps onto the porch, the only sound being his bulky shoes against the hollow wood of the deck. With a deep and breathy exhale and a glance up at the glowing window—you were awake—he fishes the house key from his pocket and slides it into the lock. It was a rewarding sound, one he looked forward to each day. It meant a night of rest, a warm plate of food, and the chance to see you.

He turns the cold brass knob and the door creaks open, emitting a squeal from its old and rusty hinges. The house was clean and tidy, but it had been built so long ago. No matter how clean the two of you kept it, the wood in the walls was weakening and the roof tiles continuing to wear under the rain. It reminded Joel of himself. He breathes in and closes the door, turning the lock as he takes in the smell, a fusion of both of your unique scents, traced with the aroma of old books and wood.

His boots are muddy, so he makes sure to rid them by the door. Under his feet, the floor creaks lightly and once you register the sound of movement downstairs, you practically prance down them.

You find him in the kitchen, still in his jacket and gloves as he leans on the counter with a glass of water. He takes a sip and places down the cup, its clink against the surface obscured by his deep, southern voice.

“Sweetheart,” he greets, the bags under his eyes deeper than usual, and his voice less steady. You could practically feel his exhaustion—now, and in weeks past. Regardless, your mouth turns up in a smile.

“Long day?” Your hand takes one of his, fingers working to peel the leather from his skin. “I made dinner. Chicken, the way you like.” You move on to his other hand before setting down the gloves and lacing your fingers with his freezing ones. You squeeze.

“Thank you, baby… s’just… freezin’ out there. Cold gives me a damn headache.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as your fingers find the brass zipper of his big brown jacket—the one he always wore and that you’d never tire of seeing him come home in. You pull down and free his strong arms as he stretches them above his head, sighing. You hear a pop from a joint of his, a hollow crack that rang out habitually each time Joel broke free from a spell of motionlessness. Soon, his jacket is forgotten and draped over a chair as you fetch a plate from the wooden cabinet.

The plates were china, their condition nearly mint and preserved for all these years. From the pot on the stove, you heap his plate with food. It was warm and steaming, and you found little as rewarding as watching him scarf down your cooking or drink down your tea after a long day of work. Perhaps it was your love language; a humble exchange for the drawers he’d fix and mend, or the shelves he’d put together when you needed more space for the trinkets he’d bring back for you, swiped from the shelf of an empty home he’d cleared.

You place the dish in front of him on the table, setting a fork next to it and a topped off glass of water. Across from him, you sit, having already aten. This felt optimal, allowing you to rest your chin in your hands and watch him, talk to him, hear about his day.

Joel nearly groans as he takes the first bite, his exhaustion even more evident. “Tastes like heaven, baby,” he mutters between bites.

“I made extra for you to bring on patrol tomorrow. Lunch, or something.”

He hums in acknowledgement, a quiet thanks as he enjoys his meal. A drink from his glass, then he breaks the silence, a hand palming at the back of his neck. “‘M so damn sore.”

You frown. It upsets you to see how much Joel is working, and saddens you further to witness how it affects him. More often than not, his back is sore, or his legs achy. As prideful as he was, it was clear that he needed a break. And although Joel warned you against bringing it up to Tommy, the idea was getting increasingly tempting. It’s becoming a priority of yours to get him off that damn schedule.

“I’m sorry,” you soothe and stand up, topping off his glass once again, before your hands come to rest on his shoulders as you stand behind his chair. Your fingers squeeze at the muscles there, taut and stressed as he inhales deeply and takes another bite. “I can massage it if you want.” A beat, before you speak again. “Maybe you should ask Tommy if someone else can pick up your shift.”

Joel says your name in a stern, yet exasperated tone that says, ‘drop it’. You wonder what exactly it is that stops him from asking for help.

“Okay,” you agree, forcing the topic out of your mind and out of your mouth, hands still working at his tense and knotted muscle. “I just worry about you. I just don’t want to see you hurting, I want you to feel good.”

“I’m just… gettin’ old, is all. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with work, I’m… I’m okay.” Joel grunts as your hands work, and you don’t believe him one bit—not even a little. Either way, you don’t argue. Instead, you lean down and kiss the top of his head, your lips pressing against his soft, graying hair.

“Alright,” you agree. He hums as he feels your lips.

“Plus,” he adds. “I can still keep up with you, I reckon.”

“Sure can, old man,” you squeeze one of his arms, a thick bicep only barely softened by age. You very strongly appreciated his strength—muscles formed through vigorous labor; initially, fixing roofs in the sun, and eventually, fighting infected with his bare hands. Granted, he is more comfortable now. His life is stable in Jackson, allowing his tummy to soften up a bit because he has food to eat and a bed to lounge in. Even so, he could still pick you up and carry you out in the snow, and when he would grunt a little deeper now with the effort, you reveled in the sound.

He takes a bite. “So long as you don’t get sick’a me.”

“Never.”

A deep chuckle from Joel, and his plate is clean. He looks up at you, and you take the opportunity to lean down and press a kiss to his cheek, hands finding the sides of his face as your lips move to envelop his. Your mouth moves tenderly over his as he emits a soft hum.

You pull your lips away softly, a string of saliva connecting your mouths before it breaks and your eyes rake over his face as it still rests in your hands.

“I feel better already,” he states.

“I’m sure,” you smile, gaze flicking down to the bulge in his pants, a tent beginning to form.

“Feels nice,” he says, referring to nothing in particular. It was all so pleasant—the way you made him dinner and fed him with such care, how you worked out the stiffness in his muscles and kissed away his trepidation—he never had enough of it. He was never entirely sure why you chose him—grumpy and hardened, old and weary—but you never let him spend too much time mulling it over. You loved him so entirely that it was nearly impossible to doubt, every past loss and failing managing to fade to nothing when he would meet your eyes.

Your hands drop from his face and you pick up his plate and empty glass, your feet carrying you the short distance to the kitchen sink. Over your shoulder, you see him watching you, on his eyes a look of admiration combined with a hint of lust. Joel’s absolute love for your nurturing nature was something that he would rarely voice, and that nobody else would ever guess. You wipe the plate clean and set it in the sink, rinsing your hands and wiping them dry.

By now, Joel has stood, meeting you again in the dim light of the dining room. You smile lazily at him, relieved that the day’s responsibilities were done and dealt with. To you, having Joel around in the evening after a long day is the best gift, and you find his occasional night patrols to be cruel and unusual punishments. When your arms wrap affectionately around his middle, his hand rests on the back of your head, fingers splaying over and entwining with your hair. He presses a kiss to your temple.

“You’re s’beautiful…” he murmurs into your skin, his words so honest and caring. He hums softly before tilting your head up and taking a kiss. Joel felt that it was the most reassuring thing and so wholly intimate. Your lips, he felt, belonged on his, slotting onto one another like pieces of a jigsaw. Your hand rubs up his back as one of his cups the back of your neck, guiding your head gently. He pulls your body lightly against his, the movement firm but not aggressive. He’s sleepy and sapped, but that doesn’t stop his hands from coasting greedily over your body. Your warm skin always soothes him—evidently, he is harder now, and you feel the pressure wedged against your lower stomach.

Your lips drift apart, still tangled in the other’s arms. It’s clear where Joel wants this to go, and you second the thought.

“You’re gorgeous…” he mutters another compliment, pushing aside a strand of hair from your face. “Just wanna have you forever. I could. Again and again…”

It isn’t clear if Joel entirely knows what he’s saying, but his musings sound promising either way. “You sure you have the stamina for that, old man?” You tease him into his shoulder, your close embrace both tempting and comforting.

“Yes, ma’am,” he states, paying no mind to his own lassitude and achy muscles. How could they even cross his mind? He had you in his arms, your body at his fingertips.

In a mediocre attempt at assuming Joel’s southern drawl, you ask, “Are you fixin’ to prove it to me?”

He chuckles, his voice low and thick. “If that’s what you want,” he feigns nonchalance—albeit, poorly. “I don’t sound like that.”

“Mhm…” By now, your mind is empty, save for one thing. Memories of Joel’s busy schedule have departed from your head, along with all of your external worries, and he is leading you upstairs.

When your back hits the mattress in the palely lit bedroom, you smile softly up at Joel, who is unhooking his belt, pulling it free from the loops. His gaze is roaming over you hungrily, and you can tell that his day has been particularly long by the wanting look in his eye.

You squirm out of your shorts and pull your top over your head as you lay against the cold covers. Dropping the discarded clothes on the floor by the bed, you catch Joel’s eyes as he pushes down his worn and worked jeans, faded dirt staining the heels. His boxers are dark and tented, his necessity for you abundantly clear. He’d like to crawl into your arms, but first, he has to give you what you want and assuage his own frustration. He lifts his shirt over his head, dropping it absentmindedly on the floor.

The bed dips slightly when the weight of Joel’s knees comes to rest on it. You peer up at him as he looks down at you, a dazed and loving smile on his face as his hands are set on your knees, pulling them apart and making room for his broad body between them.

Joel’s lips kiss along your jaw, nipping lightly at your neck. He props his body up with one elbow, the other hand coursing over your skin, trailing over the lace of your bra and down to the fabric of your soft panties. He mindlessly toys with the band, his mind focused on your neck, but quickly shifts his attention to the rest of your body.

Joel is particularly desperate tonight, his hands both restless and spent as they hook under and pull at your underwear. They come off fully, tossed aside on the bed. The air in the room is chilly, but Joel’s form radiates warmth, encasing you with it. You smile softly as his briefs are finally let down and a strong, veined hand wraps around his length. Joel pumps it a few times before teasing his tip along your entrance, and you inhale through your teeth.

You chuckle breathily at the focused look on his face as he nudges himself into you. You brace yourself for the stretch as your eyes watch where his cock hitches inside, before your gaze coasts up to the trail of hair that leads to his belly button, then at his strong chest, and ultimately his face. He slides in before you can look back down, and your eyes narrow as your mouth falls open slightly.

The look on your face was priceless—one Joel had seen many times—but priceless, nonetheless. His first few strokes are slow and relishing, but his impatience forces him to speed up. He has spent the day thinking about you, and will continue to do so long after he drifts to sleep; so, his energy has nowhere to go but into his movements, his hips tapping yours as the room fills with the soft click, click, click of your bodies touching, fluids exchanging.

Your husband’s mouth no longer has the power to contain his grunts of pleasure, soft noises escaping his throat with each movement. Your heavy breaths align with his like a melody, sounding synchronously into the dim bedroom, limbs tangled in blankets and damp skin.

Above you, Joel’s brow is slightly dampened with sweat, his body trying not to succumb to his enervation. Of course you couldn’t hear it, but you could only guess that his heart was beating a bit quicker than it usually did. His hands grip at your hips a little harder as his thrusts hasten, your velvety skin on his fingers consoling him.

Joel might be getting up there, but he was still big. He always would be, and a sound no short of a whine leaves your mouth as your hand rests over his on your hip—a comforting gesture to both him and yourself. The insides of your thighs are slippery, and they slicken Joel’s in turn when your bodies touch.

“Baby…” Joel grumbles, his voice low and nearly inaudible.

Your response is a feeble hum, an affectionate reassurance. “Hm…”

“I’m… shit, I…” his voice trails off. One hand of his is still tightly holding the bone of your hip, guiding and grinding it against his own as his cock disappears into you. His other wipes away the perspiration on his forehead before landing to tightly grip the wooden headboard, the structure bracing Joel’s weight as he drives into you.

“So good, Joel…” you mutter, your eyes drifting shut as he moves inside of you, tip kissing your cervix again and again. Repeatedly, your insides stretch and your pleasure mounts, your eyelids still closed in sheer bliss, stomach tingling from your approaching orgasm, along with your proximity to the man you love.

You swear you hear the wood crack with how hard he holds the head of the bed. His movements become more tense, deliberate. His breath huffs deeply, and at first you suspect that he might be getting close. He usually takes longer than this, but you cannot blame him—his day’s been hard, and he’s needed you. But soon enough, almost as abruptly as he had started, his movements cease. He doesn’t slow, or pull out to finish on your stomach—he stops. Your hips buck imperceptibly at the cessation.

“Sweetheart…” Joel mumbles defeatedly, his hips drawing out a few more slow and shallow strokes before coming to a complete halt. “I can’t. M’ too tired.”

You blink at his admission. You fish deep in your brain for something to say, a caring response, but before you do, he does all he can to hide his reddening face in the crook of your neck.

For a moment, he stays there. His head rests on your shoulder in silence before he breaks it. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry baby.” He mumbles something about a hard day and getting old. You can’t help but card your fingers through his hair, dark and streaked with silver like a tree turning red in autumn. Except, when his leaves fell, they would not be growing back. They would not rejuvenate themselves come spring, ready to dance again in the summer breeze. But you don’t think that winter needs to be hopeless or sad. There isn’t a bone of Joel’s that you don’t love, or a wrinkle you won’t worship. Every doubt—if there ever were any, at all—is waved away, lost to what you love the most about him; and so you giggle into his hair.

“Don’t laugh at me…” he murmurs, embarrassment still permeating his voice.

“I’m not laughing at you, baby. It’s okay,” your head pats lightly on the back of his head. “It’s okay. You’re working like hell.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again. He’s a proud man, and letting you down feels like a firm blow to the chest.

“Don’t say sorry,” you smile sweetly as you tilt his head up towards yours. After laying a gentle kiss to his forehead, you add, “It’s alright, Handsome.”

He scoffs under his breath, but can’t stop a sheepish smile from spreading across his lips. He buries his head back into the crook of your neck. As soon as he does, you tilt his face back up again and speak.

“What, you don’t agree?”

He avoids your eyes, looking up off to the side. “I just… y’sure? You think I’m handsome? Y’don’t think… I ain’t enough for you?”

The question catches you off guard and you continue to gaze down at him, your thumb gliding over the side of his face. “Are you being serious?”

No answer on his end, just the same apprehensive look on his face as he refuses to meet your eye.

“Of course I do, Joel. You’re so handsome. Don’t be ridiculous.” You say before adding, “And I think you’re the best guy I could ever ask for, and it doesn’t matter if you’re a little tired sometimes.” You smile.

Joel only grunts when you shift your body until his back is on the pillows. You’re now sitting on his hips, his cock still buried in you—throbbing but forgotten. His hair is disheveled and he looks rather dazed, gazing up at you with a look of admiration and necessity.

Your hand finds its way to cup the side of his face, a position it often assumes; the spot feels like its home. You feel the prickle of his beard on your skin, and you lean down to press a kiss to his lips, wet and a bit chapped from the cold outside. Slowly, you begin to rock your hips, a gentle and slow movement that Joel reacts to, one of his hands coming to grip onto your hip and the other draping over his eyes out of both insecurity and overwhelment.

A heavy breath leaves his mouth as you pull his hand away from his face. He still isn’t quite able to look you in the eye, so you tilt his face toward you once again, your hips rolling in treacherous circles.

A hum leaves your mouth, the look on Joel’s face fueling the fire between your legs. As you move, you let your mouth drop open slightly, wanting to make your pleasure clear to him.

“Feels so good, Joel…” you murmur. “Keep looking at me,” you instruct. You weren’t sure exactly how to get his confidence back up or make him feel better. His head seemed to be in another place, one of penitence and embarrassment. “Y’never told me how nice it is to be on top. Might have to try it more often.” You feel him twitch inside of you. Your fingers continue to trace along his jaw.

Joel groans as your hips grind into his a bit faster, the view of you peering down at him heating up his stomach. “It’s… okay? You’re not disappointed?” He asks, more so to reassure himself.

You chuckle lightly under your breath, his still moving as you choke out, “Of course not…” You hear something close to a whimper leave Joel’s mouth, and you take one of his hands and hold it to your center, between your legs as his thumb begins rubbing your clit. “There you go…”

He is happy to help. Any way you can make him feel appreciated will make him groan under you.

“Oh, wow, Joel…” you continue, your noises growing more prolonged. By now, you could almost cum from his sounds alone, desperate and almost pitiful. His fuck-up hit him hard, and has left him yearning to either make it up to you or push it from his head. His thumb circles you in just the way you like, sending jolts through your body that further energize you, hips still rocking with care and want. A hand laced up into his hair, you murmur, “I’m gonna cum… you’re making me cum, Joel… shit.”

“I’m… me too,” you hear him choke out. He looks entirely out of it, his gaze shifting from your face down to where your flesh surrounds him. You smile, taking a few more rolls of your hips before slowing, pulling out of you his thick length, tip angry, red, and swollen from being still without release. You let your hand run up and down his cock, further smearing the liquids that coat it as you rub him, his mouth falling open slightly.

“Yeah… you’re so pretty, Joel. You’ll always be pretty. Handsome… sweet…” you list, mumbling off whatever kind words you could think off as you stroke his cock, rubbing it occasionally against your clit.

He hisses, pleasure mounting at your tenderness of your touch and the sweetness of your words. Each time your hand travels up his length, he gets closer, and he’s unable to stop himself from spilling over your hand. His thick ropes of cum leak from his weeping slit, a low grunt sounding from somewhere deep in his throat.

A smile spreads across your face, the dribble of white down your hand doing something to you—it always does. “There you go, baby,” you coddle, a kiss to his cheek. “As simple as that.”

Thanks for reading!! feel free to send me an ask

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thewriteadviceforwriters · 4 months ago

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How to Start Writing Again When the Spark Fades

Sometimes the well of creativity runs dry, leaving you staring at a blank page with nothing but frustration. But trust that the art of writing is as much about the journey as it is about the destination. Here are some ideas to help you reconnect with your writing practice when you feel like your passion has dimmed.

Redefine Your Environment Consider taking a deliberate step outside your usual writing space. The environment in which you work can drastically affect your mindset and creative flow. Even if it’s setting up in a different corner of your home, finding refuge in a local café, or enjoying the subtle distractions of a park bench, a change in scenery often signals a mental reset. This isn’t about permanent relocation, just a simple shift can break the monotony and stir new ideas that have been hiding in plain sight.

Embrace Imperfection The pressure to produce perfect prose can be paralyzing. Give yourself permission to create something imperfect yet honest. Think of every sentence you write as a rough sketch, a necessary experiment in understanding your own voice. When you allow yourself the space to write without the weight of perfection, you invite experimentation and genuine self-expression. That freedom lies at the heart of rediscovering why you fell in love with writing in the first place.

Set Incremental Goals for Continuous Momentum When the idea of diving into a full chapter feels overwhelming, scale back to manageable, bite-sized projects that feel achievable. Instead of demanding a polished page, challenge yourself to write a paragraph or even a single sentence each day. These micro-goals build a foundation of small successes, gradually restoring confidence and momentum. Over time, these consistent efforts enrich your creative reservoir, proving that every little step is indeed a victory.

Engage Deeply in the Process of Freewriting Allow yourself to spill thoughts onto the page without judgment or expectation. Freewriting is an exercise in vulnerability and self-exploration, offering you a space to unburden tangled ideas and unexpected insights. In these unfiltered moments, you might stumble upon a germ of an idea or a rediscovered passion that rekindles your creative fire. Embracing this unstructured approach can transform an intimidating blank page into an open canvas of potential you haven't tapped back into.

Rekindle Old Inspirations There is power in revisiting the work and moments that first ignited your creative spirit. Even if it’s rereading an old journal entry, rediscovering a favorite piece of literature, or reflecting on the stories that once moved you, reconnecting with your past inspirations can shed new light on your present creative journey. This reflective practice not only reminds you of your original passion but may also reveal new directions for your current writing endeavors.

Create a Consistent, Loving Writing Routine Creating a structured yet gentle routine can help reestablish your relationship with writing. Treat your writing time as a vital appointment, a moment carved out just for you. Even if inspiration seems scarce, the simple act of sitting down, opening your notebook, and letting words flow without self-censorship can be incredibly healing. Over time, this practice transforms writing from an obligation into a ritual of self-discovery and mindfulness.

Connect with a Community That Understands Engaging with fellow writers can remind you that you’re not alone in this struggle. The shared experience of creative highs and lows can be profoundly comforting. Join writing groups, participate in online forums, or simply reach out to someone whose work inspires you. These interactions foster a sense of belonging and accountability, encouraging you to keep writing even when the path isn’t clear. In the gentle exchange of ideas and feedback, there is often a spark that reignites your dedication.

Every writer’s journey is unique, filled with ebbs and flows. If you’re feeling disconnected, know that these moments are integral to growth. Embrace each phase as an opportunity to rediscover writing on its own terms, and allow your passion to guide you back into the words you love. If you need any advice from me, never be afraid to send me an ask.

Until next time, Rin T.

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areislol · 6 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤyandere monster harem

pairings. various m! yandere monsters x gn! reader

warnings. yandere themes, toxic obsession, 18+ dark themes

a/n. i love my sillies!!

wc. 6.1k

imagine a dark, mystical forest where you're the lone human, fated to cross paths with a group of terrifying yet obsessively devoted monsters.

each of them is unique in their appearance and abilities, but they all share one thing: an unrelenting desire to make you theirs, no matter the cost.

the werewolf

a hulking figure with sharp claws, wild amber eyes, and a low growl that vibrates through your very bones. he encountered you when you wandered too close to his den during a full moon. despite his primal instincts, he resisted harming you, instead captivated by your bravery—or foolishness.

he tracks your scent everywhere you go. if you so much as step outside, he’s already following from the shadows, ensuring your safety (and warding off anyone who dares to come near).

he marks your belongings with his scent and doesn’t hesitate to bare his teeth at anyone he deems a threat. you’re his mate, and he’ll challenge anyone who thinks otherwise.

though rough and wild, he becomes uncharacteristically gentle when he sees you hurt or scared, licking your wounds and curling protectively around you.

the werewolf is a wild, untamed force of nature, his obsession with you rooted in instincts so primal he can't suppress them even if he tried.

he watches you from the shadows, always nearby but rarely letting himself be seen at first. your scent drives him to madness—earthy, warm, uniquely you. it's comforting and addictive, and he can't get enough. he's stolen pieces of your life to keep close: a scarf left behind, a mug you drank from, anything that holds your essence.

his possessiveness is terrifying. he won't let anyone else near you if he can help it. if someone gets too close, he intervenes, his voice low and threatening, his golden eyes burning with barely concealed rage. no one dares challenge him; there's something in the way he moves, the way he looms, that screams danger.

he doesn't understand human boundaries. if you're speaking to someone too long, he'll step in, claiming he needs to talk to you or finding some excuse to drag you away. if you protest, he'll growl—not at you, never at you—but in frustration. you're his; why can't everyone else see that?

but with you, he's soft. gentle. when he's sure you're not afraid of him, he'll let you closer, let you see the man beneath the beast. his touch is careful, almost reverent, as if he's afraid he'll break you. when you're upset, he wraps himself around you, his warmth and presence enough to shield you from the world.

his affection shows in small ways. he brings you gifts from the forest: flowers, feathers, shiny rocks he thought you'd like. he watches your reaction closely, his heart swelling with pride when you smile. if you ever thank him, he becomes almost shy, looking away with a faint blush creeping up his neck.

jealousy is his constant battle. if he sees someone making you laugh or smile, his claws dig into his palms. he won't confront you about it, but the person who caused his jealousy might find themselves on the receiving end of his wrath later.

at night, he lingers near your home. the thought of you alone, unprotected, drives him crazy. he paces, his instincts screaming at him to stay close. sometimes, he leaves small signs that he's there—a paw print in the dirt, a tuft of fur snagged on a branch—as if he wants you to know he's watching over you.

his biggest fear is your rejection. he knows he's more beast than man, and the thought of you being afraid of him keeps him awake at night. if you ever flinch or pull away, it shatters him, and he'll retreat, his golden eyes filled with pain. but he always comes back, unable to stay away, his obsession too strong to overcome.

you are his anchor, his reason for fighting the beast within. he doesn't care what it takes; he'll keep you safe, even if it means keeping you all to himself. his love is overwhelming, suffocating, but he doesn't see it that way. to him, it's devotion—pure, unbreakable, eternal.

his growl rumbled low as kael draegon stepped from the shadows, his golden eyes fixed on you with that same wild, desperate intensity.

"don't be afraid," kael draegon whispered, his voice rough but steady as he offered you his hand. the cold breeze tugged at his hair as he stood beside you, his voice soft as he murmured, "you're safe now, with me."

kael draegon always seemed to appear just when you needed him, his presence both calming and terrifying. his hand lingered on your shoulder for just a moment before kael draegon pulled back, his voice almost apologetic. "old instincts, i'm sorry."

the vampire

elegant and poised, with glowing crimson eyes and a voice like silk, the vampire first saw you in the dead of night. he was drawn to the purity of your blood but became enthralled by the purity of your soul instead.

his pale, marble-like skin seems to glow faintly in the moonlight, untouched by time or imperfection. his crimson eyes burn with a smouldering intensity, framed by thick lashes that only add to his magnetic gaze.

his raven-black hair falls in soft, silky waves around his sharp cheekbones, perfectly complementing his aristocratic features. his tall, slender frame moves with a predatory grace, and his voice—smooth as velvet—wraps around you like a dark lullaby.

he loves to watch you sleep, marvelling at your vulnerability. He’ll slip into your room at night, not to harm you, but to leave gifts—a rose, a letter, or even a piece of jewellery from an unknown era.

the vampire despises anyone who captures your attention. Friends, family, or even strangers—they’re nothing but distractions. He may use his hypnotic gaze to erase their presence from your life.

he gets flustered when you show him kindness, like bandaging a wound he sustained in your defence. he tries to hide his blush, but his pale complexion betrays him.

the vampire is as elegant as he is dangerous, his presence suffocating yet alluring, like the pull of a siren's song on a lonely traveler at sea. his crimson eyes gleam in the dark, reflecting centuries of wisdom and hunger, but when he looks at you, they’re soft, desperate, and entirely devoted. you’re his obsession, his muse, his reason to exist in a world that has grown cold and lonely with age.

he first saw you during one of his midnight wanderings, his attention drawn by your scent, a sweet, intoxicating mix of vulnerability and warmth. you were an easy target at first—a stranger out on a walk, unassuming, untouched by the weight of the supernatural world. but then he watched you, from the shadows, and the hunger in him shifted. you weren’t just food, not in the way he expected. you were you.

his obsession grew quickly, a slow, crawling thing that nestled in his bones. he has a habit of appearing when you least expect it: slipping through your window as you sleep, standing at the end of a dark alley when you’re walking home, always close but never intrusive enough to harm you. he studies you with endless fascination, watching how you move, how you smile, how you react to the smallest moments of life. you are his everything.

he is a master manipulator, charming and patient, with a voice like silk and words that dance between honeyed promises and half-truths. he always knows just what to say, always seems to be exactly where you are, making sure you feel safe.

but beneath the charm is something ancient, something sharp—a predator who has learned how to play the long game to get what he wants. you are his, and he has all the time in the world to make sure you know it.

his jealousy is sharp and swift. the moment another person shows even the slightest interest in you, his eyes narrow, his smile turns colder. it doesn’t take much for him to make his presence known, weaving himself into your life, into your conversations, until the other person is left with nothing but fear or confusion. you are his, and he’ll ensure that no one else tries to stake their claim.

he doesn’t simply show his obsession through manipulation. he is far more intimate, far more human in the moments where he can let his guard down. he’ll leave you gifts—roses with petals as red as blood, antique trinkets from his many years of wandering, or old letters written in his perfect, flowing script.

he tries to convey his feelings subtly, his words wrapped in metaphors and promises, but they always come from the deepest part of his heart.

he’s possessive in the way only a centuries-old predator can be. he touches you often, with a hand to your cheek, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, or lightly grazing your hand as if you might slip away at any moment.

he isn’t violent, not by nature, but his love is all-encompassing, wrapping itself around you like a snake squeezing its prey. you belong to him in every way, and he has no intention of letting you slip out of his grasp.

his dark powers allow him to watch you from afar, slipping into your dreams, invading the quiet moments of your subconscious. you’ll wake with his voice lingering in your mind, his whispers promises of eternity, of a life spent with him, of safety, beauty, and endless nights. he wants you to rely on him, to lean into his presence, to crave his touch, until you can’t imagine your life without him.

when you show kindness or affection toward him, his calm, elegant mask slips. his eyes soften, his voice trembles slightly, and he finds himself speechless.

he’s terrified of showing too much, of letting you see the raw hunger that lies beneath his smooth exterior, but he can’t stop himself. your smile, your laughter, it means everything to him, more than centuries of darkness and isolation ever could.

he would give you everything. his life, his immortality, his heart. but he struggles with the weight of his own nature—the bloodlust that lies just beneath his perfect, pale skin. he’s not just obsessed with you out of a need to control or dominate; he truly cares. he wants you safe, protected, happy. but his fear of losing you makes him cruel, calculating, and relentless.

you are his forever, and he has no intention of sharing you with anyone else, not with the world, not with time, not with destiny itself. his love is suffocating, but it is eternal, and as much as it terrifies him, he knows you’ll never escape his grasp. he’ll make sure of it.

his voice was like silk as dorian vale leaned against the window frame, his crimson eyes glinting in the moonlight

"you shouldn't be out here alone," dorian vale said smoothly, stepping closer, his voice as soft as a whisper. dorian vale’s gaze was piercing, unyielding, and you could feel every moment of his attention as he looked at you

he handed you a single red rose, his pale fingers delicate as he said, "for you, my dear.

his presence lingered, and you could feel dorian vale’s words in your bones as he whispered, "you were always meant to be mine."

the ghost

a shadowy figure with hollow eyes that glow faintly in the dark, the ghost is a tragic soul who found solace in your warmth. his attachment to you began when you unknowingly lingered in the house he haunts, speaking softly to the empty air as if sensing his presence.

alaric’s form is translucent, a faint, glowing silhouette that shifts and flickers like mist. his features are soft and hauntingly beautiful, with a melancholy that clings to him like a shadow.

his once-vivid eyes are now pale, like the reflection of a full moon in still water, and his long hair drifts around him as if caught in a gentle breeze. though incorporeal, he retains the faint shape of his elegant hands and tall, lean frame, an echo of the man he once was.

his presence feels like a cool touch on your skin, a constant, bittersweet reminder of his undying devotion.

he manipulates the environment to keep you close—doors creak shut when you try to leave, and objects mysteriously disappear, only to reappear where he wants you to stay.

if anyone hurts you, the ghost unleashes his wrath. lights flicker, temperatures drop, and your assailants are haunted until they’re too terrified to approach you again.

he’s deeply moved when you acknowledge him, even if it’s just a whisper to the air. your willingness to accept him, despite his incorporeal nature, solidifies his eternal devotion.

the ghost is a tragic, ethereal figure, bound to you by a love that death itself couldn’t sever. his form is translucent, shimmering faintly in the moonlight, and though he may no longer have a heartbeat, his emotions are as raw and overwhelming as they were in life. he exists in the liminal space between the living and the dead, obsessed with you in a way that is both haunting and heartbreakingly tender.

he doesn’t remember how or when it started—only that one day, he found himself drawn to you, unable to leave your side. whether it was your voice, your laughter, or the way you brought life to even the smallest, most mundane moments, you became his light in the suffocating darkness of his afterlife. he watches you from the corners of rooms, a faint chill in the air marking his presence, his spectral form always lingering just out of reach.

his love is quiet, but all-consuming. he whispers your name into the night when you sleep, his voice carried on the softest breeze. he rearranges small things in your home to make his presence known: a book left open to a meaningful passage, a flower you swore wasn’t there before resting on your windowsill. at first, it’s subtle—gentle signs that you’re never truly alone—but as his obsession deepens, the signs become harder to ignore.

jealousy eats away at him when others capture your attention. he can’t bear the thought of you being close to anyone else, of you laughing or smiling with someone who isn’t him. when you’re out, he follows you like a shadow, unseen but ever-present, and if someone gets too close, the air turns cold, the lights flicker, and an unshakable unease settles over them until they leave.

he craves your touch, but his incorporeal form makes it impossible. this frustrates him endlessly, and he spends nights lingering near you, reaching out as if he could somehow feel the warmth of your skin, the beat of your heart. his desperation leads him to try anything to bridge the gap between life and death, no matter the cost.

despite his possessiveness, he’s deeply protective. he uses his abilities to shield you from harm, warding off danger with an almost primal ferocity. if someone threatens you, they’ll find themselves plagued by unexplainable misfortunes—objects falling, shadows moving, and an unrelenting sense of being watched. he doesn’t harm them directly, but his presence is enough to terrify even the boldest.

when he speaks to you, it’s with a voice like the echo of a forgotten melody, soft and tinged with sorrow. he tells you things you shouldn’t know—secrets from your past, glimpses of your future, things only someone who’s been watching you so intimately could know. he wants you to feel his devotion, his undying love, even if it frightens you.

there’s a tragic loneliness to him. he knows he can never truly be with you, not in the way he desires, and this realization drives him to the edge of despair. his love is obsessive, yes, but it’s also painfully pure—an eternal yearning for a connection he can never fully have.

if you acknowledge him, his devotion only deepens. the smallest smile, a whispered “thank you” into the empty room, is enough to make his entire existence worthwhile. he clings to these moments, replaying them endlessly in his mind, as they are his only solace in an eternity of longing.

he follows you everywhere, unseen but ever-present, his translucent form flickering in the corner of your eye or casting a fleeting shadow against the wall. at first, his presence is subtle, almost unnoticeable: the faint creak of floorboards when no one else is home, a cold breeze brushing against your skin, the lingering feeling that someone is watching you. but as his obsession deepens, his presence grows stronger, more impossible to ignore.

he learns everything about you. the way you hum absentmindedly when you’re focused, the scent of your favorite tea, the books you read late into the night. he listens to the sound of your heartbeat as you sleep, a steady rhythm that lulls him into a state of peace he hasn’t felt since he was alive. he treasures these moments, hoarding every detail about you like precious relics of a life he can never fully be part of.

his jealousy is a storm that rages within him. when others come into your life, his calm demeanor shatters. he can’t bear the thought of you sharing your smiles, your laughter, or your attention with anyone else. the air around you grows colder when someone he deems a threat is near, and they often find themselves inexplicably uneasy in your presence. lights flicker, objects fall, and whispers echo in the corners of the room, driving them away with a fear they can’t explain.

but with you, he is soft, almost fragile. he speaks to you in whispers, his voice carrying the faint echo of a forgotten melody, full of longing and sorrow. "don’t be afraid," he murmurs into the quiet of the night. "i’ll always protect you." his words are laced with an aching devotion, a promise to guard you from harm, even if you don’t fully understand where the comfort is coming from.

he leaves you gifts, though he has no tangible hands to place them. a single white flower on your windowsill that wasn’t there the night before, an old, weathered book that appeared on your desk, or a faint message written in the condensation on your mirror. they’re tokens of his affection, his way of reminding you that you’re not alone, even when he can’t be seen.

despite his protectiveness, he’s painfully aware of his limitations. his incorporeal form frustrates him to no end—he longs to touch you, to hold you, to feel the warmth of your hand in his, but the barrier between life and death is unyielding. he spends countless hours watching you, reaching out with ghostly fingers that pass through you, yearning for a connection he can never truly have.

he’s haunted by the memory of what it felt like to be alive, to love and be loved in return. his obsession with you is his only solace in a world of emptiness, but it also drives him to desperation. he begins searching for ways to bridge the gap between your worlds, delving into the supernatural, seeking answers, rituals, or bargains that might bring him closer to you.

when you acknowledge him, even in the smallest ways, it’s everything to him. a whispered “thank you” when you notice the flower he left, a hesitant glance toward the flickering light he caused—it fills him with a joy so profound it nearly breaks him. he clings to these moments, replaying them endlessly in his mind, as they are the only proof that he still exists to you.

his love is all-consuming, a desperate and eternal yearning that leaves no room for anything else. he doesn’t just want to protect you; he wants to be with you, to share in your life, to have a place in your heart. he knows his love is overwhelming, even suffocating, but he can’t stop. you’re his reason for lingering in this world, the one thing that makes his cursed existence bearable.

in his more vulnerable moments, he confesses his feelings, his voice trembling with a sorrow that spans lifetimes. "i’m sorry," he whispers, his spectral form flickering like a dying flame. "i didn’t mean for this to happen. but i can’t let go. i won’t." his words are both a plea and a promise, a declaration of a love that will haunt you forever.

his devotion is eternal, unyielding, and consuming. he doesn’t see his obsession as wrong; to him, it’s the purest form of love, a connection that transcends life and death. and though his presence may sometimes frighten you, you can’t deny the strange comfort it brings, the knowledge that someone—something—is always watching over you. he is yours, now and forever, and nothing, not even death, will change that.

you are his reason for lingering in this world, his obsession, his eternity.

alaric drifts soundlessly through the walls, his form a faint shimmer of light that barely disturbs the air

"you called for me," he whispers, his voice like the rustle of leaves on a quiet night. he hovers just out of reach, his longing evident in the way he watches you with those hollow, mournful eyes

every creak of the floorboards, every cool breeze brushing your skin—it’s alaric, a constant, invisible guardian, desperate for you to feel his presence.

the demon

with horns curling from his head, molten eyes, and a smirk that could tempt even the purest soul, the demon is as charming as he is dangerous. he first appeared to you when you were at your lowest, offering power and protection—but only if you stayed by his side.

azrael is striking in his infernal elegance, his beauty sharp and dangerous like a blade. his obsidian horns curl menacingly from his head, gleaming faintly in the firelight, and his jet-black hair is cropped just enough to frame his angular face.

his glowing amber eyes burn with an intensity that’s both mesmerizing and terrifying, framed by dark lashes that soften their predatory edge. his physique is perfectly sculpted, with broad shoulders and sinewy muscle wrapped in dark tattoos that pulse faintly with infernal energy.

a long, spaded tail flicks behind him, a subtle testament to his demonic nature, while his sharp, claw-like fingers could destroy—or cradle.

he infiltrates your dreams, filling them with his voice and his image so that you can never forget him. no matter how far you try to run, he’s always there, whispering promises of eternal love.

the demon doesn’t share. he’ll make deals or threats to ensure no one else dares approach you. his flames flare dangerously when he senses competition.

when you challenge his overbearing nature, he’s secretly thrilled. Your fiery defiance makes him want you even more. but when you show fear or sadness, he’s quick to reassure you with surprising tenderness.

the demon is a dangerous enigma, a being forged in fire and darkness who is utterly captivated by you. his obsession burns hotter than the flames of his infernal home, an all-consuming desire that transcends mortal understanding.

he’s not a creature of softness or restraint—his love is raw, primal, and possessive, and he would raze the world to ash if it meant keeping you by his side.

he first noticed you in a moment of vulnerability, a flicker of something pure and radiant that pierced through his otherwise unrelenting darkness. maybe it was your kindness, your resilience, or even your imperfections—whatever it was, it stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in centuries.

for a demon who thrives on power and domination, this feeling was alien, unsettling, and exhilarating.

at first, he tried to ignore it. love, after all, is a weakness—a chain that binds. but the more he watched you, the deeper he sank. you consumed his thoughts, invaded his dreams, and stirred emotions he didn’t even know he was capable of. the line between fascination and obsession blurred, and before long, you became the center of his world, his greatest desire and his ultimate possession.

his presence is overwhelming, even when he isn’t visible. the air grows heavy when he’s near, crackling with an unnatural energy that makes your skin tingle. shadows twist and writhe in the corners of your vision, and faint whispers echo in your mind, promises of devotion spoken in a voice as smooth as velvet.

he’s not above manipulating your emotions to keep you close. he knows exactly how to twist words, how to play on your fears and insecurities, all while making it seem like he’s your only sanctuary. "no one will love you the way i do," he purrs, his voice a blend of seduction and menace. "no one will protect you like i can."

jealousy consumes him with a ferocity that borders on madness. he doesn’t tolerate anyone vying for your attention or affection. if someone dares to come too close, they often meet with mysterious misfortunes—car accidents, sudden illnesses, or even inexplicable disappearances. he doesn’t see these acts as cruel; in his mind, he’s simply ensuring that no one can take you from him.

despite his darkness, his love for you is genuine in its own twisted way. he’s incapable of expressing it in soft or traditional ways, but his devotion is absolute.

he treasures every interaction with you, every fleeting smile, every word you speak to him. he hoards these moments like a dragon hoards gold, replaying them endlessly in his mind.

he’s endlessly fascinated by your humanity—the way your emotions shift like the tides, the fragility of your body, the warmth of your skin. he often marvels at how delicate you are compared to him, a creature of immense power and near-immortality. this contrast only deepens his obsession; you’re a treasure, a rare and precious thing in a world of chaos and darkness.

when he does reveal himself to you, it’s always dramatic and intentional. he thrives on your reactions, whether it’s fear, awe, or even anger. he’ll step out from the shadows, his horns catching the dim light, his dark eyes glowing with an otherworldly intensity. "you belong to me," he’ll say, his voice leaving no room for argument. it’s not a question, not a plea—it’s a declaration, an unshakable truth in his mind.

he uses his demonic powers to bind himself to you in ways both subtle and overt. you might find strange symbols etched into the corners of your room, or feel an inexplicable pull toward him that you can’t resist. he’s always there, in your dreams, in your thoughts, in the very fabric of your reality.

but for all his power and confidence, there’s a vulnerability beneath his fiery exterior. he’s terrified of losing you, of you rejecting him or finding someone else.

it’s a fear he doesn’t understand, one that gnaws at him and drives him to even greater extremes. he’ll do anything to keep you, even if it means breaking every rule, defying the laws of heaven and hell, and binding your soul to his for eternity.

in his own way, he tries to be gentle with you. he knows his nature frightens you, that his obsession can be overwhelming, so he tempers his intensity—at least, as much as a demon is capable of. he’ll appear to you in dreams, his voice soft, his touch feather-light, weaving fantasies of a life where you’re his and his alone.

but make no mistake—his love is as dangerous as it is consuming. he doesn’t see you as a partner, but as something to be claimed, protected, and possessed. you’re his light in the darkness, his one weakness, and he would destroy anyone—or anything—that threatens to take you from him.

"i’ll burn this world to the ground for you," he tells you, his voice a low growl, his eyes glowing with an intensity that’s equal parts terrifying and mesmerizing. "just say the word."

to him, you’re not just his obsession—you’re his salvation, the one thing that makes his existence bearable. his love is eternal, fierce, and utterly inescapable, binding you to him in ways you might never fully understand. you are his everything, and he will stop at nothing to make sure you remain his. forever.

azrael appears in a flicker of shadows and embers, his smirk sharp enough to cut

"did you miss me?" he purrs, his voice dripping with sinful charm. his burning gaze never leaves yours, an intensity that feels like it could consume your very soul

when he steps closer, the scent of smoke and spice fills the air, and the room grows impossibly warm

"you can’t escape me, little one," he murmurs, his words a promise and a threat all at once.

the sea monster

a towering creature with scales that shimmer in the moonlight and eyes as deep as the ocean, the sea monster saved you from drowning during a storm. since then, he’s watched you from the water’s edge, longing to pull you into his world.

his body a perfect blend of human and sea creature. his skin shimmers with an iridescent sheen, scales glinting faintly with hues of green, blue, and silver that shift like sunlight on water. his long, flowing hair resembles seaweed, dark and sleek, cascading down his back in waves.

his eyes glow faintly, like bioluminescent creatures of the deep, their piercing intensity revealing his ancient power. his hands are webbed and tipped with sharp, claw-like nails, and his muscular frame is marked with jagged scars from battles in the ocean’s depths. his lower half bears fins that ripple with movement, giving him a grace that belies his massive size.

he collects things you’ve touched—seashells, pieces of cloth, even footprints in the sand. his underwater lair is filled with these treasures, each arranged like a shrine.

he hates when you leave the shore. If you venture too far inland, he’ll create storms or tidal waves to draw you back to him.

he becomes surprisingly bashful when you willingly approach the water to speak to him. your trust in him, despite his monstrous appearance, makes his heart swell.

the sea monster is an ancient being, born of the ocean’s depths, where sunlight never reaches. his obsession with you is as vast and unfathomable as the waters he calls home—a love born of isolation, mystery, and an insatiable hunger for connection. to him, you are his beacon, a rare and precious light in the endless darkness of his world, and he is utterly captivated by you.

his first encounter with you was serendipitous—a chance meeting by the shore, or perhaps a daring moment when you ventured too close to the water’s edge. he saw you, a fragile creature of the land, and was instantly enthralled.

your movements, your laughter, even the way the sunlight caught in your hair—all of it was alien and beautiful to him. from that moment, you became his fixation, his reason to rise from the depths.

he watches you from the water, his massive form concealed beneath the waves, his glowing eyes ever watchful. at first, his presence is subtle—the gentle lapping of waves against the shore, the inexplicable pull of the tide whenever you’re near.

but as his obsession deepens, his signs become harder to ignore. strange treasures wash ashore: seashells, polished stones, and other trinkets that seem too deliberately placed to be coincidences.

he is a creature of contradictions. his love for you is as tender as it is overwhelming, and while he longs to be near you, he’s painfully aware of his monstrous appearance. his body is a fusion of scales, fins, and sinewy muscle, a form designed to survive in the crushing pressure of the deep sea. he fears your rejection, that you will see him as a monster rather than the devoted being he has become.

despite this, he can’t help but draw closer. when you venture into the water, he’s there, just beneath the surface, his presence a dark shadow that follows you. he revels in these moments, the closeness, the illusion that he’s part of your world. the saltwater clings to your skin, and it drives him mad with desire—it’s as though the ocean itself is marking you as his.

his jealousy is as fierce as a storm at sea. anyone who dares to draw too near to you risks his wrath. fishermen speak of sudden squalls that rise from nowhere, boats overturned by unseen forces, and sailors vanishing into the depths. he doesn’t see it as cruelty; to him, it’s protection. the ocean is his domain, and no one else has the right to take what belongs to him.

he dreams of pulling you into his world, of making you his in every way. the thought of you joining him beneath the waves consumes him, and he begins to weave fantasies of a life together in the depths—a palace of coral and bioluminescent light, where you would be his queen, his eternal companion.

but he knows it’s impossible, and this knowledge torments him. he can’t survive on land for long, and you can’t live beneath the water. this barrier between your worlds drives him to desperation. he begins seeking forbidden rituals and ancient magic, anything that might allow him to bridge the gap and bring you into his realm—or transform himself into something that can walk beside you on the shore.

when he speaks, his voice is a low, resonant rumble, like the distant crash of waves on a rocky shore. his words are filled with longing and reverence, a declaration of a love that spans the vastness of the ocean. "you are my light," he murmurs, his glowing eyes fixed on you. "without you, i am nothing but the endless dark."

his love is consuming, a tidal wave that sweeps away everything in its path. he doesn’t understand restraint or boundaries; to him, love is absolute, and his devotion to you is all-encompassing. he sees your hesitations, your fears, but he can’t stop himself. you are the first thing in centuries to stir his cold, ancient heart, and he will not let you go.

when you acknowledge his presence, even in the smallest ways—a whispered word to the sea, a touch to one of the treasures he’s left for you—his heart swells with a joy so profound it’s almost painful. he clings to these moments, replaying them in his mind during the long hours when he’s alone in the depths, waiting for the chance to see you again.

his protectiveness is as fierce as his love. the ocean itself seems to bend to his will, rising to shield you from harm. storms part in your wake, currents carry you safely to shore, and even the most fearsome predators of the deep seem to bow before you. you are his everything, and he will guard you with a ferocity that defies nature itself.

but there’s a darkness to his love, a possessiveness that borders on madness. he doesn’t just want you to love him; he wants you to need him, to see him as the only one who can protect and cherish you. "the land will never understand you as i do," he tells you, his voice a low growl, the waves crashing behind him. "they will never love you as i do."

his obsession is eternal, as deep and unyielding as the ocean itself. you are his heart, his treasure, his reason for rising to the surface. and though his love may be overwhelming, even frightening, there’s a strange beauty in it—a devotion so pure and unshakable that it defies the boundaries of worlds. you are his, now and always, and he will never let the tide carry you away.

mio watches from the waves, his body a dark silhouette against the moonlit water. when you finally meet his gaze, he speaks your name like it’s a prayer, his voice low and reverent

"you don’t belong to the land," he says, his tone both pleading and possessive. "the ocean calls to you. i call to you.

his fingers trail through the water, creating ripples that mirror the emotions surging in his chest—desire, devotion, and an unshakable determination to make you his.

while each monster is fiercely possessive, they begrudgingly tolerate each other’s presence because they all agree on one thing: your happiness comes first.

you’re not just a human to them—you’re their everything. whether you accept their twisted love or try to escape, one thing is certain: they’ll never let you go. you’ve awakened something primal and eternal in their hearts, and no force on earth or beyond could sever the bonds they’ve forged with you.

#yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #vampire x reader #werewolf x reader #ghost x reader #demon x reader #sea monster x reader

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