#Inner Pulse Guidance

[healingthroughvisions]

Releasing Insecurity

Releasing Insecurity Last week, I caught myself shrinking. Again. I was about to speak up—heart open, words ready—and suddenly, this familiar fog rolled in, as if to block the flow of thought within me, to prevent me from expressing something at work and with someone I care about. It didn’t come loud or chaotic. It came quietly, like a shadow sliding across my chest. The kind of doubt that…

[crybaby-bkg]

Bakugou has never cared much about whether or not his partner is experienced, or less experienced. Never had much of a kink or fetish when it came down to how much sexual experience someone had, but—there’s just something about you. You with your unsure lip biting and lowered eyes, your twisting hands and nervous little chuckles.

“I don’t really know how to kiss,” you share with him, a secret, a whisper passed from your hovering mouth to his own. It’s been an odd some amount of dates you two have been on by now, and this time you went back to his apartment afterwards. You sit on your knees beside him on his too big couch, his legs facing you, arm around your waist, yours around his shoulders.

“Really?” Bakugou asks, doesn’t mean to sound as teasing as he does, as breathless. But, he’s surprised more than anything—you, as sinfully seductive as you are, don’t know how to kiss someone? He leans back to take you all in, a tiny little smile lilting the corners of his mouth.

“No, not really,” you murmur, running a hand through the hair on his nape, eyes bouncing all over his face, yet avoiding his eyes. “Will you teach me?” You ask, and who is Bakugou if not a weak man?

So he shows you the proper way to kiss somebody, a hands on demonstration. He pulls you in real close, guides your head to tilt to the right, purse your lips like this, run your tongue over his like that. Now suck on it, let out all the pretty sounds if it feels good, kiss him just like that. And before you know it, you’re a pro.

The next time you see him, you ask him the proper way to give someone a hickey. I don’t wanna give you a blood clot, you had laughed, sitting on his lap this time. And Bakugou, ever the great teacher that he is, shows you how. Demonstrating on your neck, your collarbone, your tummy, your inner thigh, the curve of your ass. You don’t give him nearly as many hickeys as he gives you, but the big purpled one sitting over his pulse point, he wears proudly until it fades. And after that, he’s asking for another, and another.

And after a few months into your relationship, do things finally start getting real hot and heavy. He sits at the island in his place, tired, arms folded, back leaning against the island and his head lolled over on his shoulders. He’s surprised when you sink to your knees in front of him, all doe eyed and incubus smile, hands resting on his thighs.

“Can you show me how?” You don’t even have to specify what you’re talking about, but you eye the way his cock already jumps to attention under his shorts. If this were anyone else, he’d bat them away and tell them that he didn’t feel like playing teacher. But with you—he’d gladly show you any and everything your heart has ever yearned to know.

“Breathe through your nose, baby.” He instructs you, hand gathering your hair in his fists. Your mouth stretches wide around his cock, eyes watering, but you push through it all. He tells you to wrap your lips around your teeth, to swallow whenever his tip brushes the back of your throat. Shows you how to stroke whatever you can’t reach, rub his balls in your palm whenever he starts getting close.

He doesn’t have to teach you how to swallow.

When you ride Bakugou for the first time, you don’t even have to ask for instructions. Just give him that look, all pouty and pitiful, hands on his chest as you grind against his cock resting against your lower belly. Barely any words are spoken as he guides you, lifts your hips, teases his tip against your hole, stomach fluttering in anticipation.

After that, you feel like a pro when it comes to doing anything with Bakugou. But, he doesn’t mind playing teacher whenever you need a little bit of guidance.

[libingan]

— temptations.

warnings: non-penetrative say gex, internalized homophobia, religious guilt and stuff, angst

a/n: im suck ASS at writing angst, but ive had this thought in my head for DAYS now so i decided to finally write it!!! thinking of adding a part two, but that depends on how many of yall will eat this shit up LMAO

pls forgive me if its bad im dogshit and writing but like non of my irls are interested in this shit HAHSWHSA i mean, we play call of duty mobile, but thats it, they dont care much abr the lore

commander phillip graves was a man of iron discipline and unyielding principles. he thrived on control, finding solace in the regimented life of the military. his stern demeanor and sharp gaze commanded respect and fear in equal measure. he was a man who believed in strength, in the rigidity of rules, in the necessity of keeping emotions tightly leashed. vulnerability was a weakness he could not afford, and he had built his entire life on that foundation. his devout upbringing and the stern teachings of his father had instilled in him a strict moral code, one that left no room for deviation or indulgence in forbidden desires.

yet, beneath the steel exterior, a single, forbidden desire gnawed at the edges of his sanity: his feelings for one of his soldiers.

you.

every time he saw you, his pulse quickened, his breath caught. self-loathing twisted in his gut. how could he, a man of iron principles, be so weak? love was a dangerous distraction, and love between men was an unspoken abomination. the teachings of his faith haunted him, whispers of sin and eternal damnation echoing in his mind. his father's voice, a specter of disdain and disappointment, reverberated alongside: "men like that are disgraceful." graves had built his life on those beliefs, constructing walls around his heart to keep out anything that might expose his vulnerabilities.

but you shattered those walls effortlessly. your strength, your determination, your unwavering loyalty—it was everything he admired in a soldier, everything he could never accept in himself. graves clenched his fists until his knuckles were white, willing himself to get a grip. he could not afford to lose control.

yet when you came to him that night, seeking guidance, seeking solace, something inside him snapped. the iron walls he had built around his heart crumbled, and in a moment of devastating weakness, he let himself feel.

you stood there, looking up at him with those eyes that had haunted his dreams. he couldn't resist any longer. with a trembling hand, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. the warmth of your skin sent a shiver down his spine. before he could stop himself, he pulled you close, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation that bordered on madness.

he poured all his suppressed emotions into that kiss, every ounce of his forbidden longing, his guilt, his shame. his hands roamed over your back, pulling you tighter against him, needing to feel your warmth, to drown out the voices of condemnation in his head. the room seemed to spin around him, the world narrowing down to the intoxicating sensation of your lips against his.

“sir,” you gasped against his lips, “can’t… not with... the door... open.”

a feral growl rumbled in phillip’s chest. he broke the kiss momentarily, his breath hot and ragged against your face. with a fierce, almost primal urgency, he grabbed your arm and pulled you inside his quarters. the door slammed shut behind you, the finality of the action echoing in the quiet room.

he guided you swiftly to his bed, his grip insistent and firm. as he pushed you down onto the mattress, his eyes burned with a conflicted mixture of desire and frustration. the room was charged with a palpable tension, every movement driven by a need to assert control and escape his inner turmoil.

after slamming the door shut and pushing you onto the bed, phillip’s voice was rough, almost breaking with the intensity of his struggle. “i need you so damn bad,” he growled, his eyes dark with a mixture of desire and torment. “but if anyone knew… if they found out, i’d be sent straight to hell.”

as he looked down at you, his breath catching at the sight of you beneath him—eyes wide and lips slightly parted—the thoughts of damnation and guilt evaporated. the sight of you in such a vulnerable state ignited an overwhelming, burning need within him. he couldn’t think of anything else but the urgent, consuming desire to be with you.

“fucking damnit,” he curses, hands sliding down your body until they reach your hips. phillip’s gaze darkened with desire, wrapping your legs around his waist, crotch pressed up against your own. a low hiss escapes him at the contact and he shoves his head into the crook of your neck to hide his pleasured expression, inhaling your masculine scent.

he tried desperately to imagine that he was touching a woman, hoping it might help him regain control. but as the thought lingered, he found it completely unarousing. the fantasy fell flat, failing to spark any desire. the only thing that stirred his pulse was the undeniable reality of you beneath him, your warmth and vulnerability making every shred of restraint and control dissolve into nothingness.

slowly, phillip began to rock his hips against yours, his movements deliberate and measured. he could feel the tension in your body, the way you responded to each shift. he savored the needy, high-pitched whine that escaped your lips, a sound that drove him wild with desire. the rhythmic motion between you became a shared, intoxicating dance, and with every whimper you gave, his own need only deepened. “f-feels so damn good,” he mutters through gritted teeth, soft grunts filling your ears.

phillip pulls away momentarily to make quick work of unbuttoning his and your jeans, pulling out both of your cocks from its confines. he swallows the lump that forms in his throat at the sight of your body, still fully clothed aside from your…

phillip’s gut churned with a volatile mix of disgust and arousal at the thought. his blue eyes locked with yours, a stark reminder of the gravity of your situation. he was about to call it off and throw you out, but when you wrapped your legs around him, pulling his hips down and pressing the most intimate parts of yourselves together, his mind went hazy and lost all clarity.

“oh, god…” you moan, and phillip feels a surge of conflicted anger and desire. he has half a mind to reprimand you for invoking His name in this chaotic moment. but as he feels the heat of your body pressed against his, the anger fades into a raw, uncontrollable need. his grip tightens, and he’s consumed by the relentless desire to be closer, to lose himself completely in the moment.

instead, he begins thrusting, maintaining his slow and steady pace from before.

and, fuck… it feels so much better. phillip struggled to contain the noises threatening to escape him, rubbing your cocks together as if his life depended on it.

you were lost in the moment, every sensation magnified and overwhelming. the way phillip moved against you sent waves of pleasure through your body, each thrust and press igniting a deep, euphoric ache. you moaned softly, your senses completely absorbed by the intense heat and friction between you. each touch, each shift brought you closer to the edge, your body arching and shifting in response to the overwhelming pleasure. you couldn’t help but surrender completely to the feeling, your mind blanking out as you rode the exhilarating tide of desire.

“i-i’m—i’m close…” you whisper, hands clawing at phillip’s back, clutching tightly at the fabric of his shirt. he only grunts in response, hips stuttering as he feels his own orgasm bubbling within.

phillip keeps his head buried against your shoulder, unable to bring himself to look at you. the shame of indulging in such debauchery is overwhelming enough, and the thought of seeing you reveling in the pleasure only deepens his guilt. he’s desperate to avoid the sight of your enjoyment, fearing that it will amplify his already unbearable self-loathing. his focus remains fixed on the intense sensations, trying to block out the reality of what’s happening and the torment of his own conscience.

despite his inner conflict, he could not help overwhelming tide of pleasure surging through him. he could sense the moment building, an intense and uncontrollable wave of sensation. as the pleasure reached its peak, his grip tightened, and he released a ragged breath against your shoulder, the crescendo of his desire manifesting in a shuddering release. the experience was both consuming and disorienting, leaving him breathless and momentarily lost in the overwhelming intensity. your body responded instinctively, arching and trembling as you reached the peak of your desire. the intensity of the moment left you breathless, your cries mingling with the rhythm of phillip’s movements.

afterward, he lay there, staring at the ceiling, a storm raging in his mind. what had he done? what kind of man had he become? he had betrayed his principles, his honor, everything he stood for. he turned to look at you, your face peaceful in the dim light, and fury surged through him—not at you, but at himself. how could he have allowed this to happen?

“get out,” he said, his voice trembling with barely restrained anger.

you stirred, confusion clouding your features. “sir?”

“i said get out,” he repeated, his tone as cold as a winter’s morning. “this was a mistake, and it won’t happen again. and if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, you’ll be wishin’ you hadn’t.”

you stood, pain flashing in your eyes, but you didn't argue. you knew better than to challenge him when he was like this. you gathered your things and left, the door closing softly behind you.

you quickly fixed yourself up, the weight of his words heavy in the air. with one last, pained glance at him, you turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind you.

phillip sank onto the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands. the room felt oppressively quiet, every corner echoing with the aftermath of what had just happened. the intensity of his emotions left him numb, and he struggled to reconcile the fierce desire he’d felt with the crushing guilt that now consumed him. he stared at the floor, haunted by the memory of your face, his faith, and his father’s voice insulting him for the man he grew up to be.

after a long, agonizing moment, he shakily reached for the small wooden table beside his bed. with trembling hands, he picked up an old, worn Bible and a rosary that lay beside it. clutching them tightly, he buried his face in the pages of the Bible, his lips moving silently in desperate, fervent prayer. the rosary dangled from his fingers as he sought solace, trying to find some measure of peace and forgiveness amidst the chaos of his own making.

[thegnomelord]

For the prompt game, maybe 7 with price and m!reader. Price gets pissed off that reader almost got themselves killed on a mission to protect him. Just some lovely old man angst

Tumblr's acting up again and it's deleted my draft like 3 times so fingers crossed this works else I will cry😓 . I saw the old man angst and immediately thought of Rodolfoparras work and this so yeah. Play the game HERE.

Prompt: “Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.” “You… What?”

CW: SFW-ish, Omega John Price, Alpha Male reader, mentions of gore, kissing, angst, omegaverse.

When your file had landed on his desk he had contemplated refusing; you were a stereotypical alpha — a loudmouthed meathead with little regard for your own health, headstrong and stupidly stubborn over the dumbest shit, and with a long list of incident reports dating back to the first day you joined the army. TF141 was your last chance before a dishonorable discharge and Price, stupidly, had taken you in like the stray you were.

Safe to say you turned out to be the leading cause of his grey hairs with all the shit you pulled. . . but. . . not to the extent he expected.

Unlike most alphas, you were surprisingly receptive to taking orders from an omega like Price, and carried yourself around the others without attempting to establish the dated hierarchy. After giving you guidance, and learning how you thought, Price had been seeing serious improvement.

'Course, all of that went down the drain when you decided to charge head first into a group of enemies when Price had gotten stabbed.

"What the fuck were you thinking lad?" Price hisses harshly under his breath, eyes boring a hole between your brows. He's standing at the foot of the medical bed, watching your chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. "What the fuck were you thinking?" You better not die so he can kill you himself.

He doesn't expect you to answer, knocked out as you are with your chest wrapped in fresh bandages after the docs fished out who knows how many bullets from your torso— 16, his inner omega reminds him, 16 bullets he took for You.

He sighs, "You're a lucky muppet." Walking around the bed he places a hand on your thigh, slowly inching up to rest on your lower abdomen, dark red spots denoting where bullet wounds lie. "But a stupid alpha." He growls. It's a good thing military alphas are like walking tanks of fat and muscle, you can take a few hits, though the thought does little to soothe his omega when you lay unconscious.

He doesn't even notice he's making a small distressed sound in his chest until your eyes flutter open, squinting from the harshness of artificial lights before you notice him looming over you; something between a guardian angel and death itself.

"Price?" Your nose twitches, lungs expanding despite the ache in your chest to catch his scent, your alpha noticing the sharp acrid taste hiding his usual pine smell. "What happened?" You ask, achy as you are you manage to tilt your head enough to let out a low chest vibrating purr, seeking to calm your omega.

"What happened, it that you dumb muppet almost died!" He hisses, anger making his scent even harsher, hating himself how his omega swoons at the purr, at how you put him before yourself even when you're knocking on death's door. "Were you trying to get killed?"

You hand your head and look away. You can scarcely recall what happened, the drugs and adrenaline muddling your mind so any memory comes out like an abstract painting, but one detail remains — Rage.

A Deep.

—bleeding flesh neath your fingernails, painfilled screams silenced by your snarls—

Dark.

—the 'crack' of bone against stone as the strength behind your hands forced the skull to shatter, blood and brains splashing against your face—

Animalistic.

—desperate hands scrambling against your head, the frantic pulse beneath your tongue rapidly dwindling once your teeth dug deep enough to tear through the jugular—

Rage.

You don't remember ever being as angry as you'd been when you'd seen Price clutching his side, the bloodied blade of a knife clenched between his fingers, unknown hostiles encroaching towards him. Your omega had been injured. Your omega had been injured. And you didn't think twice, vision turned as red as his blood with a singular thought of Kill Kill Kill banging on your skull you didn't even notice you were bleeding.

Like a proper animal. Like something you've been trying to prove you're not.

"I'm-" You swallow, though cleaned, you can still taste the blood of the enemy whose throat you'd torn out, your teeth still stained red. "-sorry. I'm sorry."

"'I'm sorry' he says, is'at the best you've got?" Price presses on, coming closer and bracing a hand on your chest, his limb vibrating from your purr. It's hard to stay mad at you when you're doing this, his omega wanting nothing more but curl next to you, to share warmth and protect you while you recover. "What was going through your thick skull? Wait, let me guess: Nothing." Still he persists, not showing what he's feeling.

You hang your shoulders low and head lower still, chewing on your lip as you listen him chew you out. Something sits heavy in your chest, growing bigger with every word he says like a snowball, his anger leaving your alpha —dumb creature that it is— confused and hurt; why is your omega angry, when you protected him? When you nearly died for him? When you love him—

“Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay?" You snap, rough and angry, your gaze fixed on his. You stop purring, leaving the room too cold and silent without it. "But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.”

“You… What?”

You flinch and suck in a breath as pain flares across your body. You expected a lot of different responses, from anger to indifference to being told you're out of the taskforce. . . not that.

"Lad." Price's voice is unnervingly calm, one hand on your scruff, the other holding your chin, the sudden contact of his skin on yours fooling your alpha into letting him tilt your head to meet his eyes. "Repeat that. Slowly."

You gaze into his eyes, so many things swirling in the blue yet you're unable to tell any of it. Slowly you breathe in, "I. . . I love you." You say, open and honest and too vulnerable for an old omega like him.

". . .oh, you stupid alpha." Price almost laughs, dimples around his mouth as he smiles. Like puzzle pieces something clicks in his head.

Before his words can feel like a slap to your face he leans in, your foreheads bonking together before you find the right angle for his lips to meet yours. He tastes like his cigars and black coffee and everything you thought he would, your body melting into his, your nose full of his scent, your brain full of him.

"Could have told me without nearly dying." You separate to catch your breaths, foreheads resting against each other, breathing the same air and only now do you notice Price is purring. It's not the same bone rattling purr alphas can produce, but just as soothing, and you can't help but giggle when your own purr causes his to become louder.

You think, maybe, everything will be alright—

"After you get better." He whispers against your lips, soft and sweet, saccharine pine scent sticking to your nose like amber. "You and I will have a long talk about safety."

Maybe not.

[runninriot]

Say My Name (I Need Reminding)

written for @steddiesongfics

song: say my name by cassyette | wc: 2.333 | rated: M | cw: blood, injuries, near death | tags: post vecna, everybody lives, pre steddie, friends to lovers | also on ao3

His head hurts, pounding relentlessly like something’s trying to crack his skull open.

    Eddie! the voice inside calls again, ringing in his ears, broken and desperate.

He doesn't know who that name belongs to. Doesn't know the one whose voice he keeps hearing like the echo of a ghost of the past, as if it's trying to remind him of something he forgot, something he should remember.

He wishes he would, wishes he knew how to unlock those memories that seem to be trapped somewhere in the bottomless abyss that is his mind. Memories hidden behind flickers of red light and glistening flashes of white - the blurred faces that refuse to come into focus, names that sit on the tip of his tongue, hands he can almost feel but are too far out of reach.

Everything is lost in dreamlike sequences that feel like before never really existed at all. But he knows it must have, can’t shake the feeling that there's someone out there that knows what happened to him. Someone who could answer all these questions that have been gnawing at him since the moment he opened his eyes - scared and alone, lost in a place he didn't recognise, with his clothes torn to shreds, overcome with agonising pain in every part of his body.

All he remembers is the sight of the bloodstained, mangled mess that was his body. The gaping wounds at his sides, the dark red on his hands, the white bone sticking out from the ripped apart flesh on his leg. He remembers the nauseating smell of death and decay surrounding him, clinging to him as if he himself was the one slowly rotting away.

He should’ve died then and there, succumbing to the pain and the loss of blood, to the way his insides had spilled to the outside – but to some cruel twist of fate, he didn’t.

Instead, as if blessed by the hand of God herself, granting him a second chance he hadn’t asked for, his body decided to stitch itself back together. Undoing what had happened to him – whatever it was. He’s not sure what he is, if he’s really alive or something else. Something he can’t name because he doesn’t have the words, lost them somewhere along the way of falling and rising again.

He knows nothing much at all.

Only that he needs to find whatever it is that pulls him, drives him to walk and wander, on and on, moving like a shadow through this wasteland he’s trapped in. Unoriented, lost, his inner compass broken.

    Eddie.

A name and a voice he doesn’t recognise the only guidance through this dark, empty space.

-----

Somewhere in the distance a light appears in his view, faint and red, drawing him in like a moth to the flame, glowing brighter the closer he gets. And maybe he should stay away from it, maybe it’s a trap – but it’s the only glimmer of hope he has.

There’s a crack in the ground, glowing bright like flickering flames. Hellfire, his mind randomly offers, a word that shouldn’t bring him comfort, should make him shudder but soothes his nerves nonetheless.

    Eddie, the voice calls again, and this time he’s sure it’s coming from somewhere down there, below, calling for him out of the depths of whatever lies beneath his feet.

He steps forward, closer to the fleshy wound in the ground that’s pulsing like a beating heart, and he falls, flies?, tumbles like Alice through the rabbit hole, caught in a freefall – maybe for seconds, maybe for hours – until he lands ungracefully on his back.

The impact is harsh but instead of sending sparks of pain through his body, he feels like he can finally breathe again, like he’s been shaken awake from a state of half-consciousness. It’s still dark, but the air is fresh here, not stale and death-soaked like before. And when his eyes refocus, he finds the sky above him full of stars and the moon shining down on him, greeting him like an old friend.

    Eddie, come on!

He can hear the voice even clearer now, demanding his full attention, commanding him to follow its call. So, he scrambles off the ground to stand, not wasting much time to take in his surroundings, feet moving on autopilot as he wanders through barely lit streets, empty apart from a few stray cats that hiss when he passes before they run and hide in the shadows like they’re afraid of him, of what he is. A nameless shadow of a man resurrected from the death. A ghost, maybe?

There’s no time to dwell on it, to stop and think, to wonder – he has to keep moving, doesn’t know where to or why, just knows, feels, like it’s his only choice.

His movements are swift and fast, restless feet carrying him around corners and through alleys like they’re familiar with the place, like he’s been here before.

    Eddie, please.

The voice is desperate, pleading, thick with sorrow – it hurts, physically, as if someone’s cutting him with a knife, slicing him open to bleed him dry.

Like these things he suddenly remembers. Those flying critters with their tiny, sharp teeth that ripped him apart.

He remembers the noise, remembers their tails and wings and gaping mouths, their images morphing with blood, red, lightning, pain.

So much pain.

A name, a face, eyes glistening with tears – it’s all there, right in front of him but the image is blurred, still out of reach. He tries and runs, follows the voice, the call, the pull-

    EDDIE!

The world around him crumbles, fading away like a dream, darkness dissipating into white, glistening light as he feels like falling again. Weightlessly floating, like a leaf carried by a storm from one place to another. He can’t see, only feels the world shifting. Feels the cool night air change into something else, warmth encasing him like a blanket that feels too tight around his body, robbing him of his ability to move in almost suffocating manner. Squeezing tighter with every passing second, until no air is left in his lungs and silent darkness takes a hold of him again.

-----

When he comes to, his eyes are closed, lids suddenly feeling too heavy to open, brain sluggish and slow, too slow to realise what’s going on around him.

    I wish you could hear me.

A beeping sound mixes with the voice, faint but steady, like a high-pitched heartbeat that matches his own.

    Wish you could give me a sign, anything at all.

He tries. Wants to move or to speak but his arms and legs feel like their stuck, fingers and toes too stiff to even twitch, and the words he’s trying to say get stuck in his throat, forming a lump so big it’s hard to swallow around it.

Someone takes his hand, gentle fingers sliding into the gaps between his own, squeezing tightly. He can feel it, wishes he could squeeze back, wishes he could talk, wishes he could say ‘I am here.’

    I miss you, the voice whispers and he wonders if the words are truly meant for him. Because how can he be missed when he’s nothing but a nameless thing, unable to move or talk or breathe- why can’t he breathe?

His lids flutter open in shock, eyes wide and searching, trying to see through the foggy swirls and twinkling stars contorting his vision.

Slowly, so slowly, his vision clears, revealing a face, and two gentle eyes looking down at him.

   “Eddie! Oh my god, you’re awake!”

The words wash over him, settle somewhere in the back of his mind, slotting into place like a long-lost puzzle piece – he knows that name, that voice, that face-

    Steve?

Eddie remembers it all now, remembers the horrors, the chase, the fight. Remembers running, not away this time but towards his downfall. Remembers the tears and the cries, the delusional promises.

We’ll get you out. We’ll get you fixed. I won’t let you die!

If I survive this, I’m going to kiss you.

He remembers broad hands trying to hold his torn body together, strong arms wrapped around him as the world slowly blurred, lost shape and substance. He remembers Steve’s tear streaked face, dirty and bruised and sweaty, beautiful as ever – it was the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes, ready to face the consequences of his reckless behaviour.

Death didn’t seem like such a bad choice back then. To find relief from the agonising pain that made it nearly impossible to breathe. To just let his mind slip into blissful emptiness and leave his feeble remains behind just like his regrets, the meaningless hopes and unfulfilled dreams, the apologies yet outstanding and the love yet to find.

But apparently, Steve made true to his words. Because Eddie knows this isn’t a dream. He can feel the warmth of Steve’s hands on his own. Can see the tears collecting in the corner of his eyes. Can hear the deep breaths Steve takes. This is real.

   “I’m- I’m going to get a nurse.”

Steve loosens his grip, or he tries to, but it’s then Eddie’s muscles finally obey. He squeezes his hand, as tight as he can, a silent plea not to leave him. Not now. Not when he just found him again. Found himself in the other boy’s voice that gave him back his name.

   “S-stay.”

His own voice sounds wrong, hoarse from disuse, and it hurts to speak but it’s worth it because Steve listens and stays, settles back down on the chair next to the hospital bed.

   “What do you need?” He asks, a mix of concern and relief written on his features, a stray tear making its way down his cheek.

Eddie thinks for a moment; a glass of water would be nice, or someone to release him from the tubes in his nose and the needle in his hand. Something against the ache in his body he’s slowly becoming aware of. A hug, maybe?

   “You,” is what he says instead.

It’s all he needs right now. Just Steve’s presence and the weight of his hand on his own to ground him, to keep him here in the real world.

Steve smiles, tentatively but honest, and he huffs out a wet laugh, wiping his eyes with his free hand.

   “You got me. I’m right here.”

Eddie tries to mirror the smile but his lips are too dry and there’s something stuck to his cheek, pulling at his skin, causing him to hiss at the sting.

Steve’s up in seconds, hovering over him, his free hand now gently cupping his face.

   “Take it easy. You’ve been out for a few days and your wounds are- well, it’ll take some time to heal. But it’s going to be okay.”

   “Th-the others?” Eddie presses out, needs to know if they’re okay. Needs Steve to tell him they all made it out.

   “They’re fine. Or they will be. We all will.”

Eddie believes him, knows Steve wouldn’t lie to him, not about this. And for a while, they just look at each other, two sets of eyes searching for something in each other’s faces. Maybe for comfort or reassurance, maybe for something they both can’t name.

It’s quiet apart from the rhythmic beeping that’s trying to lull him to sleep. Eddie’s fighting it, trying hard to keep his eyes open; he’s been asleep for long enough.

   “You need to rest, Eddie,” Steve says, his voice warm and gentle, “I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.”

And as if those words were all he needed, Eddie let himself drift, slowly giving into exhaustion and fatigue, sinking deeper into the mattress.

-----

   “Say it again.”

   “Eddie.”

   “Again, pleaaase?”

   “Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.”

Steve laughs and it’s the second best sound in the world, right after him saying his name. Doesn’t matter the context, although he does have a favourite version – when his voice is all soft and husky, dripping with lust and love when it’s just the two of them together, whispered like a secret only they know.

It’s been months since Eddie had made his way back from the dead. Months of medical treatments and therapy, of fighting to clear his name and reclaiming the life he had before it all went to shit.

Steve didn’t leave his side, helped him through the worst days and celebrated every little victory with him. Always there to catch him when Eddie thought of giving up. Always ready to offer comfort whenever he needed a shoulder to cry on. Always kicking his ass when he needed encouragement to keep going.

It wasn’t easy but Eddie pushed through, always with his own words in mind, waiting as a reward at the end of the line.

Eddie remembers the look in Steve’s eyes when he took his first steps without his crutches, still wobbly on his feet but determined to walk without help. How they both cried happy tears when Eddie stumbled into Steve’s open arms, hugging and laughing. And how, not for the first time, Eddie’s heart made a flip when Steve was so close, their faces mere inches apart, arms wrapped tight around each other’s waist – too close but still not close enough.

   “You’ve kept all your promises, so it’s only fair I keep mine.”

Steve’s eyes grew wide at those words, even wider when Eddie slowly leaned in.

   “Finally. I’ve been waiting forever.”

A smug smile tugged at his lips right before they clashed with Eddie’s, sharing breath and spit and confessions of the heart.

It’s been months and sometimes, Eddie still can’t believe that it’s real. That he’s alive and in love and loved in return. But just like before, when he was trapped in that dark state of mind, there’s a name as his compass, calling him home whenever he feels lost.

    Steve.

A voice, a face, and two hazel eyes he’ll always find his way back to.

[zibethrose]

Recognize that your thoughts don’t define you. You are spirit, you are not your mind. Allow your instincts to lead you and your soul to guide you in all facets of life. Concentrate on the priorities of your life and let go of distractions. Finding your own awakening requires developing a strong sense of self. Cultivate inner quietude and connect with your intuition to release all that is not you to find your own awakening. Remove the social mask and embrace your personal truth, unapologetically showing the world all your colors.  Take time to connect with your innate wisdom and receive guidance from your higher self. Decide to embody a grateful mindset as it is a choice that will keep you aligned with the Sacred. This will help you with the Acceptance of what is; without conditions or expectations.  

 If you can see your life as full of abundance, you will feel less desire to fill it with things that do not bring your soul happiness. Feeding your soul is about taking steps to feel at peace with yourself, whether things are going well or not. The soul is fed by Acts of love, compassion and kindness as the soul flourishes on good vibes, that is, anything and everything that makes you pulse with the heady and zesty delight of feeling so alive you can burst with joy. To align to your soul is easy, just Follow your bliss. Hurt or rejection are deep human fears that everyone wrestles with. Learn to acknowledge feelings without getting defensive. Recognize that your thoughts don’t define you. You are spirit, you are not your mind. Embrace soul-truth for conscious growth. Clear the mind from misgivings and doubts to uncover your truth which helps you to discern the scent of the one path that will enable you to continue your journey with certainty, knowing who you are and where you need to be. 

Please like, comment, share, subscribe and follow me @www.zibethrose.com

[zuvluguu]

Embracing the Divine Feminine: A Journey with Mother Ayahuasca

Introduction

I never imagined that drinking a bitter Amazonian brew would reconnect me with the deepest parts of my soul – and especially with my long-neglected feminine side. Ayahuasca, a sacred plant medicine from the Amazon rainforest, translates to “vine of the soul” . Traditionally prepared by indigenous shamans, this brew is used in ceremonies to guide participants through transformative inner journeys . These experiences are often characterized by vivid visions, intense emotions, and an overwhelming sense of interconnectedness with oneself, nature, and the universe . Many who partake in Ayahuasca ceremonies report encountering a nurturing spiritual presence known affectionately as Mother Ayahuasca, a feminine guide and healer within the visionary experience  .

From the first ceremony I attended, it became clear why shamans refer to the plant as “Mother Ayahuasca.” Under its influence, I felt cradled by an ancient, maternal consciousness. In a world that often suppresses or overlooks the divine feminine, this sacred medicine opened a doorway to Her presence within me. The journey that unfolded not only brought me face-to-face with Mother Ayahuasca, Mother Earth, and the Divine Goddess archetype, but also helped me find an inner balance that has forever changed how I relate to the outer world.

The Journey

I arrived at my first Ayahuasca ceremony with a mixture of nervousness and hope. Under the cover of night in a candle-lit hut, the shaman’s icaros (sacred songs) began to weave a protective space. Ayahuasca is often referred to as the “Grandmother” medicine, embodying an all-encompassing Divine Feminine energy . In the darkness, this feminine spirit felt as if it were aligning with the moon above – resonating with the shadowy, intuitive aspects of night . Once I drank the thick, earthy brew, it didn’t take long for its presence to make itself known.

Visions came on gently at first: intricate patterns and soft whispers from the jungle around me. Then the journey deepened. It was as if the medicine took me by the hand – a firm but loving grandmother – and led me into the depths of my psyche and out into the far reaches of the cosmos. Ayahuasca’s Divine Feminine presence can be both gentle and fierce. She “can take us very deep down into the depths of our psyches and stretch us way out into the fractals of the multiverse,” as one voyager describes . In my visions, I was shown both personal darkness and breathtaking beauty, often in the span of a single night. Through her guidance, buried traumas surfaced to be healed, followed by scenes of cosmic wonder that words can barely capture  .

At the peak of one ceremony, I found myself in the presence of what I can only call the Divine Goddess. I saw a magnificent feminine figure – a maternal deity – radiating life force and compassion. Her form shifted between images of a fertile Earth Mother and other archetypes of the Divine Feminine, “pulsing with the energy of life itself” . I remember a particular vision of a Mother Earth figure rising from the soil, vines and flowers entwined in her hair, her eyes wise and full of tears for the world. In that moment, I felt completely connected to nature. The boundaries between my body and the earth dissolved; I could sense the heartbeat of the planet as if it were my own. It’s no surprise – shamanic traditions have long revered the Earth as a living mother (Pachamama), honoring her as the giver of life and sustenance . Now, I too was communing with Mother Earth, feeling her unconditional love and ancient sadness, and promising to treat her with the reverence she is due.

Throughout these journeys, Mother Ayahuasca’s spirit was palpably present. Many people report encountering a wise, compassionate female entity during Ayahuasca ceremonies – a “motherly teaching figure” who guides them through their inner challenges  . I experienced her as an embodied voice in my mind and heart. At times she felt like a grandmother sitting beside me, lovingly scolding me when I resisted, then holding me when I surrendered to the process. This feminine guide often gently but firmly nudged me to face truths I had long avoided, from childhood fears to regrets and wounds I carried unspoken . She loved me, I could feel that, but as a true mother, her goal was not to coddle but to heal. In one vivid encounter, I sensed her examining my heart and then performing “surgery” on my soul – a psychic operation to remove pain I’d been unable to release on my own . It’s difficult to describe the mix of awe and vulnerability I felt: here was an intelligence within the medicine itself, teaching and healing me from the inside out.

Perhaps the most moving experience was when I regressed to the state of a child – even an infant – in the vision. I found myself curled up and crying, feeling alone in a void. Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of love washed over me. I felt as though invisible arms lifted and cradled me, rocking me gently. A warm, maternal energy enveloped me, filling me with a sense of security, nourishment, and unconditional love  . It was unlike anything I had ever known. I realized this was Mother Ayahuasca – or perhaps the universal Divine Mother – soothing the deepest core of my being. The love didn’t feel abstract at all; it was tangible and personal. I understood in that moment what it means to be a child of the Earth, a child of the Goddess. Fear and anxiety evaporated, replaced by trust. I wept with gratitude as decades of subtle sorrow and self-doubt seemed to melt away in her embrace.

The visions were intensely personal, yet I later learned that my experience was not unique. Encounters with a feminine “Mother of all” spirit are strikingly common on Ayahuasca. This is why many Amazonian healers and Western seekers alike speak of the medicine as Mother Ayahuasca – the spirit of the vine is experienced as a feminine, nurturing teacher . It’s as if the brew opens a doorway to what some mystics call the Eternal Feminine, the primordial Goddess energy that creates and cares for all life . In my journey, meeting this Divine Feminine presence was profoundly healing. She not only revealed my inner truths but did so with such compassion that even the ugly parts of my psyche were accepted and understood. The “Grandmother” showed me my shadows without judgment, and my light without ego, teaching me that both are part of who I am. By the end of each ceremony, I often found myself whispering “Gracias, Madre” – thank you, Mother – for the extraordinary gift of that encounter.

Transformation

Emerging from those nights with Ayahuasca, I felt as though I had been internally re-arranged in the best possible way. A powerful sense of connection to a nurturing life force remained with me long after the visions faded . In the days following, I noticed subtle but profound changes in how I felt and acted. The first transformation was within myself: a newfound inner balance. Before, I had been living largely in my mind – analytical, defensive, and carrying a quiet pain I seldom addressed. After my encounters with Mother Ayahuasca and the Goddess, I found my heart had been blown wide open. I was more in touch with qualities I’d once considered “weak” or too vulnerable: empathy, gentleness, patience, and intuition. In truth, these were the very qualities of the Divine Feminine that I needed to integrate. As the Temple of the Way of Light teaches, “we celebrate the equality between the feminine and masculine, restoring Divine balance… reshaping our world through love, kindness, forgiveness and understanding.”  In my own microcosm of life, I felt this balance taking root – my long-neglected feminine essence rising to stand equal with my masculine side, each complementing the other.

One of the most beautiful changes was how I began to relate to others, especially the women and family in my life. Old grievances and resentments evaporated, replaced by an almost overwhelming sense of compassion. For instance, I had harbored confusion and subtle anger toward my mother (and mother figures) for years. During the ceremonies, Ayahuasca allowed me to witness the pain and struggles my own mother had endured in her life, from a higher perspective . In one vision, I saw scenes of her childhood and the hardships she faced, and I felt her hurt as if it were my own. This shifted something deep inside me. My personal hurt at feeling unloved transformed into empathy and understanding – I realized she had always done the best she could with the love and awareness she had . This revelation was an extraordinary gift. In the weeks after, I spoke to my mother’s spirit (she had passed on years before) with forgiveness and love, finally at peace with her and with myself. Ayahuasca had subtly rewoven the threads of that relationship within me, turning bitterness into forgiveness and opening my heart where it had been closed.

The theme of healing the inner child and past trauma was central to my transformation. By confronting those painful memories within the safe, loving container provided by Mother Ayahuasca, I was able to release emotions I hadn’t accessed in decades. It felt as if the medicine “re-parented” me on a spiritual level, giving me the maternal comfort and acceptance I had longed for. Psychologically, this kind of deep catharsis is invaluable – indeed, Ayahuasca’s therapeutic potential for trauma and emotional healing is now being recognized by scientists  . But beyond the psychological, there was a spiritual realization: I came to believe that a divine mother energy truly watches over us, and we can tap into that love at any time for strength. This realization filled me with an inner confidence and peace I’d never known. I felt whole.

As my inner world balanced, so did my perspective on the outer world. I started to see nature not as a backdrop to life, but as a living community of which I am a part. The trees, the wind, the earth itself all felt alive and imbued with spirit – the spirit of Mother Earth that I touched in ceremony. I also became acutely aware of how our modern, fast-paced society often lacks the gentle, nurturing touch of the feminine. Qualities like compassion, intuition, and cooperation – once regarded by our patriarchal culture as “ineffectual” or weak – I now saw as essential strengths . My experiences taught me that embracing the Divine Feminine is not only about personal healing, but also about restoring balance in a world skewed towards aggression and materialism. The feminine energy of Ayahuasca had given me a glimpse of a different way of being: one rooted in love, feeling, and sacred connection rather than fear and domination . I became determined to embody that way of being in my daily life.

Integration

In the months after my Ayahuasca journeys, the real work was learning to integrate these profound lessons into everyday living. An Ayahuasca ceremony can be dramatically illuminating, but the insights mean little if they don’t guide how we live and grow afterward. Thankfully, I found that the maternal wisdom of Mother Ayahuasca continued to echo in my life long after I left the ceremony maloca. Even now, when anxiety or anger stir within me, I can close my eyes and remember that wave of unconditional love that once enveloped me – and almost immediately, a sense of calm comes over me . It’s as if I carry a piece of that Divine Mother’s embrace in my heart, always available when I need to reconnect with compassion or courage. “Whether real or imagined, the emotions I experienced during Ayahuasca ceremonies have been genuine, and the insights continue to resonate with me long after the ceremonies are over,” one Ayahuasca voyager wrote, and I wholeheartedly agree . The challenge and gift of integration is to remember – to not dismiss those peak moments as mere drug illusions, but to honor them as real experiences of healing and truth that can inform the way I engage with the world.

Practically speaking, I adopted several gentle practices to nurture the growth that Ayahuasca sparked. I spent more time in nature – taking walks in the woods or sitting by a river – consciously strengthening my bond with Mother Earth. Each time, I would offer a silent prayer or thanks to the land, a habit inspired by indigenous traditions that see the Earth as a living Mother deserving gratitude . I also began meditating regularly, focusing on the heart. In meditation, I often visualize that nurturing feminine presence, sometimes even calling upon the spirit of Ayahuasca or the image of a loving Goddess to guide me. Journaling became another tool for integration; I’d write down the lessons from my visions and describe how I could apply them in situations at work or in relationships. For example, if Ayahuasca taught me about forgiveness in a vision, I made a point to practice forgiveness toward someone in my life and observe the result. Bit by bit, this turned epiphanies into habits.

My relationship with other people evolved as part of this integration. Friends remarked that I seemed “softer” yet more confident. In truth, I was learning to live from the heart, not just the head – a lesson the divine feminine energy impresses on all of us . I found myself listening more and rushing to judgment less. I became more comfortable expressing love and affection, where before I might have held back. In challenging moments, instead of responding with aggression or defensiveness, I tried to channel that empathetic, motherly understanding that I was shown. This didn’t mean becoming passive; it meant responding from a place of wisdom rather than reactivity. Just as Mother Ayahuasca in my visions was gentle yet strong, I aimed to bring a similar balance of compassion and assertiveness into my daily interactions.

Over time, I also felt a calling to creativity and community – two areas where my “feminine” intuitive side could play. I took up painting and was surprised to see images of the goddess, the moon, and lush forests emerging on my canvases, echoing the themes of my journeys. I joined a local meditation circle that focuses on earth-based spirituality, where I could share my experiences and hear others’ stories of personal growth through plant medicine. This sense of community and sharing is another way the journey continues; it reflects the understanding that healing is not just an individual journey but a collective one. I realized that the more I heal myself, the more I am able to positively impact those around me. Indeed, as one wisdom teaching says, “When we heal ourselves, we heal the world. For as the body is only as healthy as its individual cells, the world is only as healthy as its individual souls.” . My integration process has shown me the truth of that statement. By nurturing the divine feminine within, I became a kinder friend, a more empathetic partner, and a more conscious citizen of Earth – small ripples that, I hope, contribute to a healthier whole.

Key lessons I carried forward included:

• Reverence for Mother Earth: I developed a deep respect and love for nature, recognizing Earth as a living, conscious Mother that supports us. This meant adopting more sustainable and mindful habits in my lifestyle, as an expression of gratitude for our planet .

• Balancing Inner Energies: I learned to value my intuitive, receptive, and creative qualities as much as my analytical and assertive ones. Life became more harmonious when I allowed both my feminine and masculine aspects to work in tandem, each in its right time .

• Compassion and Connection: Perhaps the greatest teaching was the importance of compassion – for myself and others. I understood that everyone is carrying some burden, and a little kindness and understanding go a long way. This sense of connection to all life has made me more patient and loving in my interactions  .

• Trust in the Divine (however one defines it): Experiencing the divine feminine presence gave me a spiritual foundation. In moments of doubt or fear, I learned to trust that there is wisdom and love guiding me. Surrendering to that guidance, much as I did in ceremony, often leads to the right outcomes  .

Each of these lessons continues to unfold. Integration is not a checkbox task, but a lifelong practice. Ayahuasca opened the door, and it’s up to me to walk the path daily.

Conclusion

Looking back on this journey into my psyche with Ayahuasca, I am filled with gratitude and awe. This sacred plant medicine, with its vines and leaves brewed into a potent tea, became a bridge to the Divine Feminine for me. Through it, I met Mother Ayahuasca – a healer, teacher, and loving mother in spirit form – and she introduced me to parts of myself I had long forgotten. I came to know Mother Earth as a conscious, caring being, and felt the presence of a Divine Goddess energy flowing through all of creation. These encounters were not just vivid hallucinations; they were deeply meaningful experiences that catalyzed real change in my life. They helped me heal inner wounds, embrace empathy and love, and find a balance between doing and being, thinking and feeling.

In the end, the most profound realization is that the feminine energy I sought was already within me, and all around me. Ayahuasca simply peeled back the layers of doubt and fear that separated me from it. Now, whether I’m facing personal struggles or witnessing chaos in the wider world, I carry a piece of that Mother’s wisdom inside. I know that patience, compassion, and nurturing – far from being weaknesses – are divine strengths that can transform our lives and our planet. My relationship with the outer world has been transformed by this inner awakening; I move through life more gently, with a heart-forward approach that I believe is one small part of a greater healing taking place in humanity.

This journey taught me that to touch the divine, one need not look to the skies alone – one can look within, into the rich soil of the soul where the seeds of the Great Mother’s love are waiting to blossom. The feminine side of my spirit, once overlooked, now guides me hand-in-hand with my masculine side, creating a more complete and harmonious self. In honoring both, I feel closer to balance, both inside and out.

As I continue walking this path, I remain humbled by Ayahuasca’s lessons. This ancient brew has shown me that love and wisdom are alive in the earth, in the plants, and in our very bodies if we only listen. It has been a sacred journey of remembrance – remembering that I am a child of Mother Earth, a carrier of the Divine Goddess’s light, and that the feminine and masculine within me can unite in wholeness. My story is just one among thousands; around the world, many seekers are re-discovering this truth through plant medicine and spiritual practice. Together, we are, in a way, coming home to the Mother.

In the words of a fellow traveler, Ayahuasca may not be for everyone, “but for those struggling to overcome trauma, or for seekers of truth – even enlightenment – this ancient bitter brew may be a sip in the right direction.” . For me, that sip opened the door to a lifelong transformation. I will forever honor Mother Ayahuasca for reuniting me with the sacred feminine, and in doing so, reuniting me with the world and with myself.

Sources:

• Behold Retreats – Mother Ayahuasca: Mysterious Meeting With Divine Mother  

• Medium (PJHUME) – Mother Ayahuasca: Seeing God and sorting mother issues…   

• Temple of the Way of Light – The Divine Feminine  

• Plant Medicine People – Ayahuasca and Huachuma: The Divine Feminine and Masculine Union  

• Ignasi Lirio (Medium) – My first date with my new best friend: Ayahuasca  

• Additional references within text: Ayahuasca definition and usage , common visionary experiences , shamanic tradition and Pachamama , personal healing and empathy  , spiritual insights integration , transformational outcomes , etc.

[juliussilver25]

The Enchanted Prince

Once upon a time, in a kingdom bathed in golden sunlight, there lived a handsome prince named Aric. He was admired by all for his bravery, kindness, and striking appearance.

One evening, while exploring the ancient halls of the palace, Aric stumbled upon a hidden chamber. In the center of the room, illuminated by a shaft of moonlight, lay an exquisite silver chest. Drawn by an inexplicable force, he opened the chest and found it filled with radiant silver garments. As he touched the silver fabric, a surge of energy coursed through his veins, transforming him.

The prince's royal clothes morphed into a shining silver attire, each piece glimmering with an ethereal light. His crown, once adorned with gold and jewels, was now a sleek, silver circlet that seemed to amplify his regal presence. Aric stood before a mirror, mesmerized by his transformation. The silver not only enhanced his appearance but also imbued him with an otherworldly allure.

Aric, resplendent in his silver attire, felt a newfound sense of destiny. He understood that his path was to become the greatest king his kingdom had ever known. His heart swelled with the knowledge that his people would look to him for guidance, leadership, and devotion to the mysterious silver power that had taken hold of him.

The silver, which now pulsed through his veins, whispered promises of unparalleled strength and wisdom. It guided his thoughts and actions, steering him towards a future where he would lead his people into a new era. Aric felt the exhilarating power and potential the silver was giving him.

The prince, still in the chamber, decided to change into a more casual yet still strikingly beautiful silver uniform. The fabric shimmered with every movement, and the casual elegance only added to his allure. Aric ready to begin fulfilling his destiny left the chamber and made his way to the great hall where the palace guards stood vigilant.

As he entered the hall, the gleam of his silver attire caught everyone's attention. His menservants and butlers, who had been performing their duties nearby, were immediately drawn to him. Their eyes widened with awe as they approached, unable to look away from the mesmerizing luster of the prince's outfit.

With a calm and assuring smile, Prince Aric began to hand out new silver uniforms to his loyal servants. "These are for you," he said, his voice gentle yet authoritative. "Join me in the Silver Court."

The men hesitated, their faces reflecting a mix of fear and fascination. They worried about what the king might say, the potential consequences of not wearing the kings uniforms in favor of the princes'. However, the prince's presence and the allure of the silver were too powerful to resist. The silver uniforms seemed to call to them, whispering promises of unity, strength, and transformation.

Slowly, one by one, the menservants and butlers took the silver uniforms, feeling the cool, smooth fabric in their hands. As they donned the new attire, a sense of empowerment and belonging washed over them. The fear melted away, replaced by a deep-seated loyalty to the prince and the Silver Court.

The transformation within the palace was just beginning. The servants, now unwaveringly loyal to Prince Aric and the silver power that guided him, understood their next task: to bring the royal household guards into the fold.

With determination and subtlety, the servants approached the guards, each interaction carefully orchestrated to highlight the allure of the silver uniforms. They spoke of the unity and strength that came with wearing silver, emphasizing the honor of being part of the prince's inner circle. The lustrous shine of their own silver attire caught the guards' eyes, the hypnotic glint drawing their attention.

One by one, the guards found themselves captivated by the promise of power and the mesmerizing beauty of the silver. The uniforms seemed to call to them, whispering of greatness and loyalty. Despite any initial hesitation, the guards felt an undeniable pull, their resolve slowly eroding under the enchanting influence of the silver.

As each guard succumbed, they were presented with a silver uniform, the fabric shimmering with an ethereal light. The moment they donned the silver, a profound change took place. Their loyalty, once divided among various duties and allegiances, became singular and focused. They were now devoted entirely to Prince Aric and the silver power that radiated from him.

The great hall, once a place of diverse colors and symbols, transformed into a sea of silver. The guards, now indistinguishable from the servants in their gleaming uniforms, stood in perfect formation. Their eyes, reflecting the swirling patterns of the silver, shone with a newfound purpose.

Prince Aric watched with pride as his Silver Court grew stronger, their numbers bolstered by the addition of the royal household guards. He knew that with each new devotee, his power and influence expanded, the silver's grip tightening on the kingdom.

And so, under the silver's watchful gaze, Prince Aric began to assume power and lead his people into a future bright with promise, his heart ever loyal to the power that had chosen him to be its champion. Aric knew that his legacy would endure, the silver ensuring that his name would be remembered as the greatest king to ever rule.

[shamandrummer]

Urban Shamanism: Ancient Wisdom in a Modern World

In the heart of the concrete jungle, amidst the hustle and bustle of city life, an ancient practice is quietly re-emerging--Urban Shamanism. Traditionally, shamanism has been associated with indigenous cultures, remote landscapes, and deep connection to nature. But as the world evolves and urbanization dominates, the call of the shamanic path has found a new home within cities, offering seekers a way to integrate ancient wisdom into their fast-paced, modern lives.

What is Urban Shamanism?

Urban Shamanism is the adaptation of traditional shamanic practices to the context of city life. It involves working with spirit, energy, and nature in an environment where forests are replaced by skyscrapers and rivers by bustling streets. Despite the challenges of modern living, Urban Shamanism offers a means to cultivate spiritual awareness, heal, and navigate life with deeper wisdom and intuition.

At its core, shamanism is about accessing altered states of consciousness to receive guidance, healing, and knowledge. This can be achieved through meditation, drumming, dance, breathwork, and connecting with spirit guides or ancestors. In urban settings, shamanic practitioners learn to find nature within the chaos, drawing energy from parks, rivers, the sky, and even the hum of city life itself.

The Need for Urban Shamanism

Many people today feel disconnected from nature, themselves, and their spiritual essence. The demands of modern life--career pressures, technology overload, and constant distractions--can lead to stress, anxiety, and a lack of fulfillment. Urban Shamanism serves as a bridge between the ancient and the contemporary, helping individuals reconnect with their inner selves, the energies around them, and the unseen forces of the universe.

Moreover, cities, despite their artificial appearance, are alive with energy. Every street has its own rhythm, every building carries history, and every person contributes to a dynamic flow of energy. By engaging with these unseen aspects, urban shamans can harmonize their surroundings and develop a heightened awareness of their place within the greater web of life.

Practices of the Urban Shaman

Sacred Spaces in the City

One of the first steps in Urban Shamanism is creating or discovering sacred spaces within the city. This can be a small altar in one's home, a quiet corner in a park, a rooftop with a view of the sky, or even a favorite cafe where one feels at peace. These spaces serve as sanctuaries for reflection, meditation, and ritual.

2. Nature Connection

Even in the busiest cities, nature persists. Urban shamans cultivate relationships with trees in parks, birds on balconies, rivers flowing beneath bridges, and even the wind that weaves through the streets. Simple acts like walking barefoot on the grass, touching a tree with intention, or listening to the sounds of the city with mindfulness can strengthen this connection.

3. Shamanic Journeying

Shamanic journeying is a key practice that involves entering a trance-like state to explore spiritual realms, meet guides, and gain wisdom. Drumming, chanting, or using rhythmic breathing can facilitate this process. In an urban setting, soundscapes such as the rhythm of subway trains, the pulse of city life, or even recorded drumming can assist in reaching altered states.

4. Energetic Cleansing

Cities are filled with intense energies from people, technology, and emotions. Urban shamans practice energy cleansing techniques such as smudging with sage or palo santo, using sound (bells, singing bowls, clapping), or visualizing white light surrounding them. These practices help clear negativity and maintain spiritual balance.

5. Dreamwork and Symbolism

Urban Shamans pay close attention to their dreams and the symbolism in their daily lives. A chance encounter, a repeated number pattern, or an unexpected event may hold deep meaning. By developing a heightened sense of awareness, they begin to navigate life with greater insight and intuition.

6. Healing and Service to the Community

Traditionally, shamans are healers and guides. In the urban context, this can manifest as energy healing, intuitive counseling, community work, or even artistic expression. Urban shamans often feel called to help others--whether through Reiki, sound healing, activism, or creating safe spaces for spiritual exploration.

Challenges and Misconceptions

Urban Shamanism is not without its challenges. One major hurdle is skepticism, as mainstream society often dismisses shamanic practices as superstition. Additionally, finding time for spiritual practices amidst the demands of city life can be difficult. However, by weaving shamanic consciousness into daily routines--through mindfulness, intention, and small rituals--urban dwellers can integrate this path seamlessly.

There is also the issue of cultural appropriation. Many shamanic traditions come from indigenous cultures with rich histories and sacred practices. It is crucial for those drawn to Urban Shamanism to approach it with respect, study the traditions they draw from, and give back to the communities that have preserved these teachings.

The Future of Urban Shamanism

As more people seek meaning beyond material success, Urban Shamanism continues to gain traction. It provides a way for city dwellers to access deep spiritual truths without having to abandon their lives and move to the wilderness. With the rise of online communities, workshops, and books dedicated to modern shamanic practices, it is easier than ever to learn and share these wisdom traditions.

Ultimately, Urban Shamanism is about finding the sacred in the everyday, recognizing that the divine is not confined to remote landscapes but exists in the very fabric of our cities. It teaches that even amidst the noise and speed of modern life, one can walk the shamanic path, heal, grow, and serve as a bridge between worlds.

For those willing to look beyond the concrete and into the unseen, the ancient call of the shaman is still alive--whispering through the wind, glowing in the neon lights, and beating in the heart of the city itself.

[comparativetarot]

The High Priestess. Art by Rubi Do Trinh, from the Star of Inanna Tarot.

𒈫 The High Priestess 𒂗𒂗 Keeper of sacred knowledge, Inanna as the High Priestess here sits regally on a throne amidst the reed swamp of Mesopotamia. Holding the ME tablet, a divine decree of foundational role in Sumerian civilization, the Goddess gazes softly at us. In the ziggurat behind her, the secret being guarded is of the subconscious realm, related to the moon, flowing, mysterious and untamed. When this card comes up for your inquiry, be sure to follow your intuition, it is much wiser than your head. The heart is the cross section between the vertical plane and our horizontal earthly existence. It offers a different kind of awareness than the brain and its insight connects deeply with our so called “outside” environment. When we open our heart and listen more to our inner guidance, we are bound to be let in on the secret of life. Sometimes, life and relationships pull us into chaos. But in order to access the center, between the dead column of reed (for no) and a living pillar (yes), to mediate our superconscious and conscious we need to find space in the middle, to be still. That is a feminine aspect that we all possess, which is symbolized by the stylized pomegranate and date palm flower flower pattern on the veil. (I know it doesn’t look like a date palm to me either, but that is how it was depicted back then). Though the veil behind Inanna seems thin, one cannot pass it if they are trapped in fear and reject all things invisible to their physical eyes. I (Rubi) too often fall into the habitual pattern of worrying about the future and getting lost in the past, forgetting to live in the magnificent present. Whenever that happens, if I am lucky, I remember to breathe deeply and listen to my heart beat or feel my pulse. These simple tasks that involve rhythm anchor me back to this now, to see things more clearly and know what I need to know. The Cuneiform is: 𒂗𒂗 En-En : High Priestess

[sengardet]

Terra's Depraved Victory

A delicate redhead's heart beats in Terra's hands after a failed attempt on Terra's life.

Terra knelt in the soil of her garden, tending to her herbs. She sensed a presence behind her a split second before deceptively soft hands seized her throat in a vicious choking grip.

Terra twisted in place and copper strands of hair caressed her face, pale flesh straddling her hips. She gasped and tried to shift from beneath those hands to no avail. Twisting her head, Terra caught the glint of a blade from the corner of her eye. Not a knife, but the edge of her own gardening shovel.

With desperate strength, Terra flailed her arm out, scrabbling for the wooden handle of the nearby shovel. Her fingertips brushed against it once, twice, before latching on. With a surge of effort, she swung the shovel upward, plunging the pointed spade deep beneath her attacker's ribs.

The woman atop her let out an agonized groan, her colorless pale skin flushing red with pain and her face with rage. Though Terra had hoped to leave this life behind, she felt the old rush of battle singing through her veins.

The woman stayed resolute, though her injury was deep. Terra didn’t lie back in defeat, however. She saw blood and felt the woman’s soft inner being for a split second… not something she would let go of. Clinging to consciousness, her fingers found the bloody cut, probing deep. Terra’s knuckles vanished into the woman’s wound. The woman pushed herself on Terra in a fit of anger, causing slick wet heat to envelop her hand further. There - a frantic drumbeat pulsed against her palm.

The assassin's heart raced like a caged bird, its surface slipping over Terra's skin in delicious panic while the clueless woman ignored the pain to finish her job, yet her hands grew weak. Power surged through Terra, dizzying, addictive. She squeezed.

The woman gasped, wincing at the incredibly draining ache. Terra watched the light dim behind those icy irises as she crushed the heart in her merciless fist. Its struggles grew feeble. The assassin bucked weakly, trying to dislodge Terra's grip. But it was much too late for her to put up any resistance. Terra's other hand pressed the woman down, pinning the assassin down as the light left her vacant eyes, and her slight frame slumped in defeat.

As Terra caught her breath, her fist clenched around the heart possessively sinking into the meaty give of the assassin's most vital organ. She could feel every ripple, every desperate lurch of the muscle against her cruel fingers as she subdued its hapless resistance.

.

The woman was out cold, yet Terra would not relinquish this thrill, this electrifying dominion over another. Not yet.

With delicate fingers, Terra traced the bulge of the assassin's left ventricle, still twitching with the last vestiges of life. She ran a nail along the slick surface of the aorta, feeling the thing it pulse weakly in response. intoxicating.

Gently, she squeezed, feeling the quivering muscle squirm against her grip as it struggled valiantly to keep pumping lifeblood through the battered body with her assistance. Its pace quickened and peaked before failing once more under tender guidance, being clenched firmly yet lovingly.

The woman's purple lips parted in a silent gasp, begging for breath. Terra inhaled deeply and pressed her mouth to the woman's, exhaling forcefully to fill her needy little lungs. She felt them expand softly against her wrist.

"Come back to me sweetie, I’m not done with you yet" Terra said affectionately, her voice soothing. The energized heart pulsed more firmly beneath Terra's fingers, the muscle slick and trembling as she cradled it in her palm after nourishing it with her breath. With a twisted and vicious tenderness, Terra coaxed it back with firm, gentle caresses, willing the stuttering rhythm to even out, to beat strong and steady once more.

She stroked the woman's pallid cheek tenderly with her free hand. Brushing back a strand of hair from her closed eyes, Terra gazed at the assassin's still features. A possessive affection welled up inside her. She wanted so bad to keep her, like a toy or a pet.

The woman's eyelids fluttered. She let out a soft groan and winced. Her chest rose and fell in shallow strained breaths. Terra leaned in close, studying the assassin's pale face, the parting of her soft reddedning lips. Such delicate beauty, yet a killer who was lost to fate. It was only Terra holding back the inevitable to savor the moment.

"Where... am I?" the woman mumbled, her voice raspy and weak as Terra felt every words as a gentle pressure around her arm. "What happened?"

"Shh, don't try to speak," Terra whispered. She brushed a lock of hair from the woman's forehead tenderly. "You're safe now. I brought you back."

The woman's eyes widened and she tried to pull away, but Terra held her fast. She could crush the fragile organ in her hand if she wanted to, extinguish this life once and for all. But she had other plans.

"Your life is over, sweetie. I just have a hard time letting go" Terra breathed against the woman's skin. "Savor this moment with me."

"Please," the assassin whimpered. "Don't..."

Terra smiled darkly, her full lips curving. "Shhh. Don't fight it. Just feel. It’s already done. Once I pull my hand out, once I stop giving you breath, you die."

She flexed her hand around the tender muscle and the assassin cried out as her heart clenched, contracting violently in Terra's grasp. It hammered a furious rhythm, each frenzied beat reverberating through Terra's being. Power surged through her veins at the woman's utter helplessness. “Then what are you waiting for, bitch!” the woman seethed. A devilish smile crept across Terra’s face.

The assassin's body squirmed, back arching as Terra Squeezed harder, forcefully pumping the assassin's heart, driving agitated bursts of blood through constricted arteries. The woman convulsed, impaled on Terra's arm like a bug on a pin. Her eyes rolled back, showing the whites as ruthless tension radiated through her body.

"P-please..." the assassin gasped, "Mercy..."

"Begging makes you look even more pathetic" Terra increased the pace, pumping faster and harder. "No. You’re the one who put your heart in my way, and I’m going to have my fun with it."

The assassin's lungs fluttered weakly against the back of Terra's hand as her chest constricted in futile resistance. Terra could feel the life fighting her with each labored breath and squirming attempt at a heartbeat.

Terra's breath quickened, a rush of arousal pulsing low in her belly as she played the assassin like an instrument.

The woman convulsed atop her, thighs clenching around Terra's hips. A ragged cry tore from her throat as her helpless body could only endure Terra’s amusement until Terra decided it was time to let her rest.

[talonabraxas]

Connecting with the energy of Andromeda opens a gateway to a profound spiritual journey:

It entails embracing the cosmic essence that resonates within each Andromedan Starseed, allowing the dormant energy to awaken and flourish.

By attuning oneself to the vibrational frequencies of Andromeda, individuals can experience a deep sense of expansion and connectedness.

This cosmic connection serves as a catalyst for personal growth, inner healing, and spiritual transformation.

The purpose of Andromedan Starseeds on Earth is deeply rooted in the elevation of consciousness and the transformation of humanity.

These cosmic beings are here to serve as catalysts for awakening, guiding individuals towards self-realization and the recognition of their divine nature.

Their mission involves radiating and anchoring higher frequencies of love, compassion, and unity, ultimately contributing to the collective evolution of consciousness.

Andromedan Starseeds bring forth a unique energy that resonates with the Earth’s energetic grid, assisting in the activation of dormant potentials and the restoration of balance and harmony on both individual and planetary levels.

One aspect of Andromedan Starseeds’ mission is to assist in the healing and transformation of the Earth.

These beings possess a deep connection to the planet and are attuned to its energetic pulse.

They work in synergy with Earth’s natural forces, channeling healing energies and facilitating the purification and restoration of the Earth’s energy field.

Andromedan Starseeds often feel a strong affinity for environmental conservation and sustainable practices, recognizing the interconnectedness between human actions and the well-being of the planet.

By awakening others to the importance of environmental stewardship, Andromedan Starseeds play a vital role in the preservation of Earth’s ecosystems and the creation of a sustainable future.

Fulfilling their mission also entails assisting in the awakening of humanity’s spiritual potential.

Andromedan Starseeds act as bridges between the earthly and cosmic realms, offering guidance and support to those who are ready to embark on their spiritual journey.

They hold the keys to ancient wisdom and offer teachings that empower individuals to reconnect with their true essence and embrace their spiritual gifts.

Through their presence, Andromedan Starseeds inspire others to embrace unity, compassion, and love, transcending the limitations of separation and fostering a global awakening.

By spreading light and igniting the spark of transformation, they play an instrumental role in the co-creation of a new paradigm of consciousness on Earth. -Exploring Andromedan Starseeds: Cosmic Origins & Spiritual Evolution

Andromedans Talon Abraxas

[milatovar]

In the hush of becoming, all things align. The one who waits in clarity shapes the world without motion.

This artwork is called Ka-bed, a visual meditation on inner alignment and the symmetry of unseen forces. The piece resonates with Hexagram 5 – 需 (Xū) – Waiting (Nourishment) embodying the luminous poise and stillness required of one who dwells in uncertainty without anxiety, choosing inner steadiness over premature action. The central mandala-like motif, pulsing in soft hues of rose and viridian, mirrors the atmosphere of trusting stillness, wherein the unseen begins to cohere. The image holds no rush toward resolution, yet radiates an expectancy, as if time itself were drawing breath. Ka-bed is a sanctuary of pause. It teaches the wisdom of abiding without force, of letting the situation ripen of its own accord. In this way, it becomes an emblem of receptive strength, wherein the inner sky clears and the true course reveals itself without strain.

Hexagram 5 is named 需 (Xū), which may be translated as “Waiting” or “Attending the Nourishment”. It is composed of the upper trigram ☰ 乾 (Qián), meaning Heaven, and the lower trigram ☵ 坎 (Kǎn), meaning Water. Together, they symbolise clouds gathering in the sky—moisture rising yet not yet released. The image is one of potential impending rain, the tension of latent blessing, and the wisdom of knowing when to act, and when to wait with quiet vigilance.

This hexagram represents a time of preparation, where the external environment has not yet caught up with inner clarity. One may have the vision, the strength, and the capacity, yet the moment is not ripe. Action taken prematurely is likely to dissipate or fail. Instead, nourishment lies in patience. The wise one observes, conserves energy, cultivates inner steadiness, and awaits the favourable convergence of forces. This is not a passive delay but an active stillness: alert, composed, and without resentment.

The imagery of water beneath heaven invokes a promise, a potential yet to descend. It is a time to prepare one’s vessel inwardly, tend to essentials, and hold firm in trust. The noble one understands that readiness involves both restraint and attentiveness, allowing the rhythm of things to ripen in their own time.

To follow the guidance of Hexagram 5 is to enter into the art of patient readiness. It teaches one to dwell within the in-between, to honour the quiet clarity that precedes emergence. The path of wisdom here is marked not by impulsive advance but by conscious withholding. It is an invitation to step back from the urgency of results and cultivate a refined trust in the unfolding rhythm. One prepares inwardly, harmonises one’s intentions, and aligns with the broader flow without interference. The mind remains calm, the heart receptive, and the spirit attuned to subtle signals.

To ignore the teaching of 需 (Xū) is to push against the unready moment, to sow seeds in barren soil, or speak when silence would serve better. Such impatience undermines the eventual blossoming, introducing disharmony through premature action. One becomes estranged from the rhythm of the Tao, imposing will where presence would suffice. This breeds frustration, resistance, and eventual depletion. The rain does not fall when commanded, but when the clouds are full.

To live the truth of Hexagram 5 is to abide in silent sovereignty, trusting the unseen architecture of time. One’s clarity is not diminished by waiting; it is refined. In this way, waiting becomes a form of wisdom, and stillness, a vessel of nourishment.

Let the unseen converge. Let time breathe. The moment shall reveal itself when it is whole.

[madamlaydebug]

In the depths of your soul, you possess the power to overcome challenges, the guidance to navigate uncertainties, and the creativity to manifest your dreams.​​​​​​​​​

Embrace the truth that you carry everything you need within you. Trust your intuition, honor your resilience, and allow your inner light to guide you forward. Remember, the answers you seek and the strength you long for are already pulsing within your heart.

[dyxtd21]

Star Sunstone aesthetic moodboard!!

A new Elite appears:

Star Sunstone:

Star Sunstone, in his true form as a golden floating orb of bright light, exudes an ethereal and divine presence. A vibrant yellow star symbol shines on the surface of his orb form, subtly hinting at the immense power within. Star Sunstone is secretly a god, capable of transforming into three distinct human-like appearances, each drawing from different types of sunstone, with unique traits and attire. His gemstone, an eight-cut stone, only becomes visible on his forehead when he adopts these forms, while his godly nature is expressed through the six disembodied, floating eyes that surround his head in every form. Each transformation serves a specific purpose and style, reflecting his celestial essence.

1. Tanzanian Sunstone Form:

In this form, Star Sunstone adopts the appearance of a tall and majestic figure, with skin that shimmers in a translucent but radiant orange, speckled with bright, glittering sparkles that resemble flecks of sunlight. His hair flows like molten lava, cascading down to his shoulders in waves of orange and gold, constantly shifting with a soft, glowing luminescence.

Attire: In Tanzanian Sunstone form, he wears regal, ceremonial robes with a slightly translucent quality, crafted from what appears to be woven light. The robes are adorned with intricate golden patterns that seem to move, depicting scenes of celestial harmony and balance. A sash of deep orange wraps around his waist, held together by a glowing star emblem. His attire is reminiscent of ancient solar deities, designed to evoke awe and inspire devotion.

Personality: As Tanzanian Sunstone, Star Sunstone is calm, authoritative, and wise. He radiates warmth and reassurance, giving off the impression of a protector and a guide. He embodies the qualities of the rising sun, offering hope and clarity. This form is often used when interacting with those seeking enlightenment or comfort, as it reflects his role as a benevolent and illuminating presence.

2. Indian Sunstone Form:

In this form, Star Sunstone’s skin takes on a pale golden hue with delicate orange sparkles lightly scattered across his body. His appearance is softer and more approachable, with his long hair shimmering like beams of sunlight caught at dawn. The light from his body is more subdued, with a gentle glow that is both calming and ethereal.

Attire: His attire in this form is reminiscent of traditional garments worn by ancient Indian sages, combining simplicity with a touch of celestial elegance. He wears a flowing dhoti and shawl in soft golden hues, decorated with fine patterns that subtly glow. The shawl drapes over his left shoulder, leaving his right arm exposed, symbolizing his connection to ancient wisdom and divine truth. The hems of his garments are adorned with sun motifs, which softly pulse with energy.

Personality: In Indian Sunstone form, Star Sunstone becomes reflective and contemplative, taking on the role of a spiritual teacher. His voice is soft yet carries great authority, often speaking in riddles or metaphors. He tends to observe more than he speaks, offering guidance in cryptic ways that encourage personal discovery. This form is often used when interacting with those on a journey of self-awareness or enlightenment, symbolizing the steady light of inner knowledge.

3. Norwegian Sunstone Form:

In this form, Star Sunstone’s skin is a rich reddish base with vibrant orange sparkles embedded throughout, evoking the image of a sunset just before nightfall. His appearance in this form is bolder and more imposing, with his reddish-orange hair resembling flowing embers that flicker and burn like the last light of the day. The intensity of his light is stronger in this form, with a more fiery and powerful presence.

Attire: He wears battle-like armor in this form, forged from celestial metal that gleams with the fiery hues of the setting sun. The armor is heavy but sleek, designed with angular, almost intimidating patterns that pulse with internal energy. The chest piece is adorned with a large, radiant star symbol, and the shoulder pads flare outward, giving him an even more imposing silhouette. The cape he wears is a deep, burnt orange, flowing behind him like the tail of a comet.

Personality: As Norwegian Sunstone, Star Sunstone becomes fierce and resolute. His demeanor is commanding and authoritative, often speaking with a booming voice that demands respect. This form embodies the destructive power of the sun, yet also its resilience and strength. He uses this form when confronting difficult challenges or facing those who need to be reminded of their own inner strength. His energy is fierce but controlled, representing the dual nature of fire—both destructive and life-giving.

In all three forms, Star Sunstone’s divine nature is evident through the six floating eyes that orbit his head. These disembodied eyes, glowing with radiant light, see into the soul of those he interacts with, able to perceive the deepest truths. Although he has no eyes on his face, the surrounding eyes act as an ever-watchful presence, symbolizing his godly omniscience. At a towering 9 feet in height, Star Sunstone’s human-like forms all carry a sense of cosmic importance, with each form tailored to interact with the world in a unique and impactful way, depending on the needs of those around him.

Fact: He is "related" to Oregon Sunstone.

His creations are:

Honey Calcite.

Honey Opal.

Honey Quartz.

Tinzenite.

Golden Sapphire. (Anthropomorphic Kitsune, like all the rest Sapphires but not a member of the "Nine Tales Council")

Yellow Turquoise.

Polka Dot Jasper.

Bumblebee Jasper.

[psychics4unet]

hi! hope you are doing well. 💜

maybe I can have a free reading?

I want to know what the last few months of this year will be like for me.

Free Chakra Psychic Reading! 🌈✨

Hey there! Let's dive into what the last few months of this year have in store for you by tuning into your energy! 🌿💫

First up, I connected with your Solar Plexus Chakra 💛. This chakra holds your personal power, and I’m sensing there’s a lot of focus on self-worth and confidence coming your way. The messages coming through: 1️⃣ You’re stepping into your power—the energy feels like you’ll be finding your voice and standing firm in decisions. It's all about embracing who you are 💪💫. 2️⃣ Clear the clutter in your life—whether it’s physical or mental, I’m getting the vibe that releasing what no longer serves you will bring clarity and peace 🧘‍♀️. 3️⃣ Opportunities are on the horizon—but they will require you to be bold. Trust in yourself to seize them! 🏆💥.

Next, the Heart Chakra 💚 is speaking strongly. Emotional growth is happening! You’re going to find more emotional connections, or maybe a deeper connection with someone you care about. 1️⃣ Healing from past hurts—there’s some old pain you’ve been carrying, but the end of the year feels like a time of mending and forgiveness 💖. 2️⃣ New love energies—whether it's romantic or platonic, new love or deepened bonds are heading your way, filling your heart with warmth 💞🔥. 3️⃣ Open up and share—being vulnerable with others will allow you to receive the love and support you deserve 🌷💓.

Lastly, I felt a strong pulse from your Third Eye Chakra 💜. Intuition is high! You may find yourself feeling more connected to your inner guidance and making decisions with a sense of "knowing." 1️⃣ Clarity about your future—you’ll get glimpses of where you’re heading, and your instincts will lead you in the right direction 🚀🔮. 2️⃣ Trust those gut feelings—your intuition is becoming sharper, so follow those inner nudges 🧿👁️. 3️⃣ Meditation and reflection—spending time in quiet reflection will help you gain insights and revelations ✨🌙.

Summary: These last few months look empowering! You’re stepping into your power, releasing old baggage, and opening your heart for deeper connections. Trust your gut, and let your intuition guide you into new opportunities. It’s a time for emotional healing, personal growth, and trusting in your inner wisdom. 🧘‍♂️🌟💫

Got questions or need some insight into your life? I'm here to help with personal psychic readings! For just $7, you can get answers to up to 7 questions! More info at:

In case anyone else here on tumblr would like a free psychic reading, Click the link and follow the instructions (I answer only to those who follow the instructions, thank you):