#Healing through sacred sexuality

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

‘You left me for Mary?’

On the one hand, it’s obvious why Ed is upset by this. It is framed as a betrayal, an infidelity, directly in conflict with what Stede and Ed shared previously, however briefly.

But I think there’s a little more to this.

Ed’s angry. Because to Ed, Stede left him for a lie. Stede’s sexuality is complex, but however it can be defined, it does not involve a cis woman. Ed knows this. He knows this. You only have to observe the incredulity on Ed’s face when Anne Bonny says Stede kissed her. He is flummoxed and bewildered and so, so hurt by learning Stede returned to Mary.

The hurt runs much deeper than Stede’s single act. Stede has colluded with society’s norms after appearing to reject them, social mores which actively hurt someone such as Ed - I trusted you.

Ed knows he lives in a comphet society, even if on the fringes, within a pirate subculture with differing norms and values. It’s the reason why Ed attacks the wedding party. It’s the reason why he keeps the cake-toppers and attempts to imprint a version of himself over the top of the bride. Ed tries desperately to erase the smooth-faced, upper-class white woman, the perfect companion to the smooth-faced, upper-class white man. The thing he can never be. It’s what society upholds as correct sexual, emotional and moral behaviour. We hear the words of the vicar at the wedding on the ship clear as day: ‘The natural condition of humanity is base and vile. It’s the obligation of people of standing, such as yourselves [white, hetro, upper class] to elevate the common human rabble through the sacred transaction of matrimony’.

Ed cannot belong to a man like Stede. Ed is too male, too brown, too low-born. He is part of the ‘rabble’. After painting himself upon the bride, he pushes both figures out of the broken window into the sea. To kill the thing that can never be, the ‘base and vile’ want within him. A want that is condemned. And by pushing the bride figurine into the sea, he foreshadows the death of the man who would ever think such a love and life could be his. Himself. It is a truly desperate moment of self-loathing.

But Stede does come back. His actions did not occur in isolation. He is as much a victim of a comphet society as Ed, despite some of the privileges being white and upper-class bring. He rejects finally the comphet grand narrative lie of his upbringing and returns to the truth of his heart and being.

Stede finally tells the too male, too brown, too low-born Ed that actually, he is endgame for him. Not within a society which will crush them, but in a world they can build and create for themselves.

This can be whatever we want it to be.

Eventually, eventually, Ed heals enough to listen and believe a little, and see enough of a future in which he can simply be loved by Stede and love Stede in return.

Which is one of the many, many reasons this show will break and remake my heart forever.

[mandalhoerian]

sacrosanct | leon kennedy x reader | 1

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pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader

summary: Leon, a paladin of the temple who became a disillusioned oathbreaker, returns from years of war with a noble title and shattered faith. Once devoted to the Saintess who healed him, Leon's admiration has twisted into repressed desire—feelings he could never express, tainted by guilt and shame. Now a celebrated hero, he’s drawn back not to the kingdom’s praises, but just for a glimpse of you to move on with his life.

The god he abandoned has other plans for him.

word count: 14K (i am so sorry)

warnings: descriptions of war, suggestive themes, slow burn so it's only sensual for now, religious shame and guilt

disclaimer: this work contains Catholic imagery that is a part of rofan manhwa worldbuilding tropes. "the saintess" trope itself isn't a saint in accordance with Catholic traditions, it's just a character archetype that developed over time in the isekai genre and means more of a "holy maiden chosen by god" and "healer" with "divine powers" protected by the "church" of that specific fictional world. however, i did my best to do my research. this work has nothing to do with Christianity or any other religions and is totally fictional. please keep that in mind as you proceed!

author's note: mandalhoerian goes back to her reader era! please say thank you to @chesue00 for allowing me to use her artwork in this fic, I wrote a whole scene that depicts the art piece which was the whole inspiration for this 3-day frothing at the mouth frenzy!!!!

now, Sacrosanct is a blend of tropes i love in rofan manhwa/webtoon/mangas that are my favorite, so prepare for misunderstandings galore in the future 😭 but leon specifically is inspired by malthus from hilda furacao. which just means yearning and sexual repression. re2!leon to re4!leon pipeline is just the sweet commoner knight to cold duke of the north pipeline in manhwa, and if you understand what that means, im personally sending you a virtual kiss LMAO Happy reading, I hope yall like it!

don't forget this is the first part only.... heh. the template credit

🌀READ ON AO3 !

The first blush of dawn trickles through the gaps in heavy drapes, bathing your chambers in apricot hues. Crisp echoes of rustling silk resonate as you delicately lift the mask from its velvet perch. Bathed in daybreak's golden light, coloured glass chips embedded into the mask shimmer in lost constellations. The caress of velvety smooth fabric against your skin sends shivers dancing down your spine as you tie on, freshly laundered linen smell intertwining with lingering scent of last night’s incense used in nightly prayers, hints of lavender meet smoky frankincense.

Your gaze shifts to the mirror, the mask now concealing your mortal features, intricate filigree swirling across your face in an ethereal web and tiny crystals dotted along the lines sparking like stars. Taking a deep breath to stand a little taller and square your shoulders, you reach up to adjust your veil, ensuring no errant strands of hair are visible. The gauzy fabric falls in diaphanous folds around you, the whispers arising with your every movement the only sounds in the stillness of dawn.

Though the sacred mask and veil hide your earthly form, they cannot conceal the weakness of the human soul in your eyes.

The gateway to your wishes is wide open, one closer look is all one needs to see how you yearn to walk unencumbered through the gardens, to feel the caress of sunlight on your bare skin.

But the edicts are clear - when you leave these chambers, the Saintess must be fully shrouded, an exalted vessel and naught else.

You amble down to the sacred chapel for morning prayers before breaking your fast - a custom enacted in hushed reverence. As you descend stone steps weathered by time, you're swaddled in the scent of smoldering incense permeating from open timber doors, trailing invisible veins into the invigorating morning air. Inside, familiar faces of fellow sisters and brothers offer gentle nods of greeting as you find solace before the altar, sinking onto the cushioned bench tailored specifically for you, in the name of quiet contemplation and prayerful kneeling.

In honor of Ethelion, your one true Lord, silence descends—a pause amplified by its gravitas. Then with an authority that makes everything else seem trivial in comparison, there's the priest: his directing is ripples on still water reaching out towards infinity—sound molded into sacred words known only too well to heart.

The humming drone of faith-soaked chants serves as a welcome breather from the constant ponderings on war and sacrifice that’s been plaguing you for weeks. Those gnawing realities always sneak up and nibble away at your moments of peace, but here in this church, Ethelion’s mercy reigns supreme—the refuge is heard in the choruses belted out emphatically, slicing through any weighty thoughts, their lyrics loftier than any worldly worry.

As the sun stands at its zenith above and sends shards of golden light filtering through the stained glass canvases, the ceremony unwinds. It feels like saying goodbye too soon amidst vibrant echoes of hymns that grip onto ancient brick walls built upon stories spanning centuries, currents of history carrying their inevitable fade. Here, they stand still—if only for a while—pinned by lingering notes lost in air rich with incense burn and oakwood musk coupled with memories tasting of sacramental wine still clinging to tongues.

Stepping into the courtyard, you're swathed in a prism of pastel hues—blossoms unveiling their sugared whispers to the inviting warmth of a lingering breeze. You catch wind of their fragrance; it hooks you, a blend of sweet floral undertones and spring's renewed vigor carrying history within its essence, and you cannot wait to check on your lily garden.

Children dart amongst looming pews, mischief gleaming in their eyes as they engage in hushed games, shards of laughter echoing softly around the otherwise hallowed space. The sight tugs at a wisp of nostalgia, memories when life was simpler, less layered with expectations and daunting futures.

The youngest ones eyeing your departure don't miss a beat. Like mini warriors possessed by unruly spirits, they break rank from the congregation to run after you—a whirlwind of giggles and shouts lacing the air. Their excitement thrums against your skin, buzzing like electricity—an unexpected surge that leaves behind a ghostly imprint.

Yet before they can reach you or even conflict with stone-faced paladins on guard duty, an adult hand restrains them. Respectful bows font towards you as if to acknowledge an unspoken understanding—a solemn line between what is allowed and what isn't negotiated under sacred roofs and watchful gazes.

The breaking of your fast happens solely in the intimacy of your chambers, where you can abandon the weariness of your mask.

Fresh fruits and bread baked by the monks in the kitchens await you on a simple wooden table, their colors vibrant against the muted tones of your chamber. The apples gleam like polished rubies, their skins taut and inviting, while clusters of plump grapes spill over from the plate. The bread, golden and crusty, emits a warm aroma that fills the air with comfort; its texture promises a satisfying chew that will sustain you through the day’s trials.

You pour yourself a glass of tea, steam curling up like ethereal wisps as you set it beside the fruits, its sweetness rendered by generous dollops of honey that transform each sip into liquid amber. As you bite into a slice of bread, the crust crackles under your teeth, giving way to a soft and airy interior that melts on your tongue. It’s simple fare—yet it nourishes not just your body but also stirs echoes of childhood memories spent in the kitchens, where laughter mingled with the scent of baked goods.

The weight of your impending sacred duty hangs over you like storm clouds heavy with rain.

It's not just a responsibility; it's an anchor dragging you into the depths of despair, each step forward to navigate it is like wading through molten lead.

You peer through the frost-kissed window, and the courtyard below unfolds like a battlefield before a decisive clash. Figures clad in armor move with the grace of dancers and the determination of warriors bound for glory or doom. The pieces of gleaming plate mail reflects the pale light, casting fractured rainbows on the cobbled ground.

The gleam of virgin armor, polished to a high sheen, is nothing more than a facade.

It's an ornament, untouched by the brutality of combat—it’s their holy calling that these paladins embrace, not the bloody stain of war. And yet, you sit there on your throne and hesitate to send even one amongst them into the fray for your crown's sake.

How easy would it be to fool yourself into believing that time has frozen, and these young knights in training are simply rehearsing under the guise of some distant uncertainty. But your eyes have skimmed those sealed parchment letters, their inky truths seeping more dread into an already strained air; you're not as naive as all that. The chilling certainty of the Holy War lurks just on the other side of these weathered stone walls—it's only a matter of moments before a gasping messenger dispatches reality like storm clouds breaking open.

Regardless of how fervently you pray or how deep your self-sacrifice runs, it won’t alter this predetermined destiny.

Even as you grip your blessed rosary so tightly it leaves hardened impressions in your palm's soft flesh. Even when unshed tears blur your vision, scalding hot yet stubbornly refusing to fall free, and a knot of shame twists low within your stomach like vile poison—an uncomfortable squirming inside that is almost visceral. Your journey forward leaves much to be desired–mired with dark ambiguities, where faith resembles something more akin to a clumsy blind groping in the vast unknown.

Your heart twinges—a raw ache—at the sight of blond hair all too familiar.

"Leon," escapes in a murmur from between your chapped lips against the icy window pane—the cold seeping into your skin; tiny tendrils numbing any sensation away.

The young paladin has blossomed into a towering figure since his personal guard duty by your side the last month, his frame enveloped in the armor that’s bigger than his still-growing form. The sight of him clad in battle gear is a poignant one, for the metal plates seem to engulf him rather than adorn him. He looks anything but menacing, sweet consideration towards those he’s sparring with, despite clad head-to-toe in battle gear, with such carefree confidence that threatens to split your aching chest.

In a split second, on the other side of that cold glass wall; Leon’s focus latches onto your unveiled and unmasked presence like a sunflower bending towards light.

It's as if you've breathed some forbidden word into the wind - an inaudible gasp tingles the silence and ripples off his lips. He stammers mid-battle stance, frozen under some unseen celestial hammer, scorched into oblivion.

You step back hurriedly, yanking your veil down over your face once more; it's rough underneath your fingertips, but nothing compared to the turmoil swirling inside you. His own stunned gaze falters, tugs itself away as if burned - damn those beautiful eyes! But that moment costs him dearly as his rival lunges and he crumbles under the assault, and your heart won’t stop racing, undeniable fondness with a foreign heat creeping up your neck.

Leon bounces back from the blow almost instantly, staggering back to his feet like it's second nature; like he hasn't just had the wind knocked out of him and seems more rattled than before.

His opponent’s moves are unforgiving, one after another until Leon's guard slips. With a resounding thud that sends shudders up your spine, Leon gets slammed into the dirt floor.

His helmet soars through the air with an eerie ring that echoes around the courtyard, tumbling to rest at the boots of a nearby Paladin whose gaze is stuck on Leon’s prone form - filled with something close to pity but still masked by pride. A comrade extends a roughened hand, helping Leon upright, his comforting pat lingering just a moment too long on his shoulder blade as if unsure whether to leave or stay for strength. Jovially yet sternly, the older knight cuffs Leon on his arm, gauntlet striking armor with a dull clang.

As you retreat from your voyeuristic post at the window when reverberating tolls from the grand temple's bells signal practice time has run its course, there's an adrenaline rush buzzing under your skin even though you were merely watching. The upcoming blessing ceremony casts its shadow over you – all consuming and much larger than life; leaves no space for silly fancies.

Sunset paints the temple grounds in a bronzed hue as Leon treks alone back to the barracks, his mind adrift. Training bruises throb under his armor, though it's the sting of his fractured pride that truly wounds him.

None of it matters in the face of the glimpse of divinity he accidentally caught.

He nearly bends with the weight of it, an abyss of greed that he fears his brothers-in-arms can sense infecting his spirit. It maligns his growth as a paladin; he's sure Ethelion sees the invasive avarice lurking beneath skin and bone, an illicit truth residing within him nipping at him from the inside like a woodworm.

The seed of which had been planted over a decade ago, in these lily gardens, in the healing hands of a young Saintess whose presence and unmasked face lingered in his heart and grew into an infatuation with her holy touch.

He was but a boy back then, brittle and broken in body, his fragile skin stretched thin over bony limbs, rife with illness that stole the color from his cheeks and the air from his lungs. His very life seemed held together by prayers of his parents alone, fluttering like leaves in the wind. He'd stumbled into the garden by accident, chasing a stray cat with his siblings, not realizing he was lost.

Yet fate cast her sanguine smile and Ethelion himself turned an eye on him, sending the Saintess his way.

A warm glow drew him further through the bushes, and there you stood, cloaked in a robe that made your radiance seem as if it were born from moonlight. His eyes should have burned upon landing on you unmasked, youthful face that unmistakably belonged to a human girl of his age and not that of Ethelion in the flesh, but instead, his lungs expanded with an unknowable strength because of the divine power around you, an easiness that made it feel like he was breathing for the first time.

Not met with punishment for such audacity—he was instead gifted healing through your sacred touch–and got left laced with a perpetual yearning, sickness eradicated from his being and infused life onto starved limbs.

A lesson was disclosed to him later on when he’d become aware of himself, about why the Saintess had to be veiled.

His desires knew no end. It was for her spiritual purity that the Saintess could not be seen unmasked or reveal herself to mortals. Could one imagine the consequences of men akin to him lying eyes upon such magnificence, gracing skin intended only for Ethelion's touch? The impressionable child that he was had bloomed into an adult consumed by her divinity, hell-bent on basking in it all life long. Surely kingdoms would fold, as mortals were bound to disrupt natural balance attempting to seize the maiden of god.

So, when you appeared in the tower window today, he was overcome with a sensation so powerful it felt like angelic apparitions traced their wings down his back.

Divine grace embodied, shining forth in ways he couldn't articulate.

An inexplicable need arose from his bones for him to go to you, throw himself down in worship, confess sins one by one and receive penance:

In the hush of many nights when the temple halls were empty, he would wander like a ghost and always come back to kneel at the feet of Ethelion, daring to touch the cushions before the altar where you prayed, his fingers lingering where only your robes should caress. The audacity of his gaze tracing the delicate embroidery of your veil when he stood guard by your side, seeking to unveil something meant solely for Ethelion’s eyes, was but one of his many transgressions against the sanctity that cloaked you…

His form of worship seemed askew, borne more out of desire than devoutness; staining the starkly white fabric of his duty with its off-colour ardour.

He could never allow you, the revered Saintess, to know about this sinful sentiment dwelling within him; tarnishing every sweet memory associated with you.

The fantasy he harbored diminished his image, trendlessly etched as an obedient paladin's plight – but for him, you represented something significantly more profound. To even admit how dreams featuring you bewitchingly bathed in grace tainted his oath of celibacy would risk jeopardizing the hope invested in recognizing his service towards Ethelion.

The desire to earn the highest recognition, a Paladin's title and acceptance of his fealty to protect you as such – got increasingly tangled in a visceral wanting lost somewhere between sacrilege and worship that left a devout hunger echoing within him for your sake.

To satisfy this, he threw himself fiercely into arduous training channels to strengthen both his body and mind with every challenging day that went by - striving ceaselessly with dreams of deserving a place by your side.

Now, he stands precipitously on the verge; holding on desperately to this undisclosed confession – harboring a stolen glance of you from earlier as a secret talisman.

How could he go into the Holy War with his brothers now, knowing he'd seen beneath your veil and… Felt.

“You seem troubled, Sir Leon.”

Leon doesn’t dare turn; a jagged lick of dread splinters down his spine. He recognizes that voice—how could he not when it haunts his dreams night after night? Instead, he stares into nothingness, rooted to the ground, his mind unable to process that you're speaking to him.

But he does turn, finding you standing serenely beneath an archway covered with tangled fragrant vines in the Temple's back garden.

Your presence fills Leon with equal parts awe and unease, as if Ethelion himself is shaming him from above for desiring what should be beyond mortal reach.

Yet your countenance remains unchanged, unmarred by his inner turmoil. The mask stays in place, an extension of your divinity—only now, Leon swears that beneath it, your eyes are smiling at him.

Leon stands within the cool shadow of the ancient temple, its weathered stones holding an age-old embrace that wraps around him like a cloak. The air is thin with the delicate scent of lilies that’s wafting towards him from the garden—from you, and outside, where sunlight filters through the leafy canopy, you stand amidst color. Your garments catch the sunset, casting a shimmer that mirrors the beauty of your surroundings.

The difference between his shadowed presence and your radiant figure is a shaming from above, showing Leon your place in His divine light while he remains shrouded in sin.

The clinking of Leon's loose armor rings as he lowers himself to one knee before you, “Forgive me, Saintess. I did not mean to disturb your meditations.”

The rustle of silk heralded your approach, brushing against the cool stone floor like a gentle breeze stirring a field of wildflowers. He inhales sharply, his breath hitching in his throat as the fragrance of lilies envelops him.

You stop before him, your robes cascading around you like a mirage of opal waves, he is captivated by an urge so primal that it sends a flush of heat to his cheeks and makes his palms sticky; he longs to press his lips to the delicate fabric that seems to breathe with divine grace.

“Please rise, Sir Leon. I saw you training today. Your skills are formidable.”

His pride swelled silent and strong within his chest – a sudden weight that could unbalance him more than any physical blow ever could.

"Your words honor me greatly," he manages to speak to the stones at his feet, even after he is back up at his feet.

"Yet you seem to have much on your mind."

He cannot meet your eyes; it feels overwhelming to face such beauty and concern directed solely at him.

"Pardon me, that was a silly question, wasn't it? Of course you have much on your mind. You're about to ride into battle. Such thoughts are not easy to bear. Do you wish to talk about it?"

"It's not my place to trouble you with such things, Saintess. They will soon be far from here, and you will be safe in the Temple.”

He glances at you, and the look in your eyes is enough to make him forget how to breathe. It’s a blend of curiosity and tenderness; an innocence that nearly pierces through his mask and grazes the wicked depths of his heart.

You tilt your head, much like a bird contemplating a worm, and gently ask, "Would you indulge my curiosity and share one worry with me?"

It's an impossibly generous gesture, for you to extend this small piece of yourself to him in the middle of your meditations. Leon's teeth ache at the sweetness of it, at your kindness that extends even to him.

“I’m doubting my worthiness to serve,” he confesses unceremoniously. “I train relentlessly, but I lack the innate spark my brothers were born with. It's as if... as if I'm play-acting at being a Paladin.”

Those aren't the only doubts that torment him—but the ones he can actually say out loud without burning at the stake for.

"Do you remember the day we met, Sir Leon?" you begin, clasping your hands and turning around to face the gardens, the gentle breeze is making your veil flutter.

Leon nods, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. Even so many years later, the memory still has the power to stir his soul, churning something in his chest that makes it hard to think straight.

"It seems like it was yesterday that a young boy came stumbling into the garden, barely able to stand up, and looked me dead in the face. What do you think I saw in him?"

He always assumed the Saintess would have forgotten such a brief encounter, yet it was etched firmly into his memory and to hear it spoken aloud has his pulse miss a couple beats.

"Do you think I saw weakness as he lay gasping in the dirt? Or did I perhaps see an innocent curiosity that was easily swept up by the cruelty of this world and tamed into obedience? Or maybe I saw something else entirely.”

He shakes his head, trying to make sense of your words. It sounds like you're making a statement, but it's not clear which part you agree with.

"Tell me, Sir Leon. What is a spark? Does it come to life, or can it be nurtured from the smallest ember of resolve?" you whisper, fingers trembling as they ascend, tracing a path as delicate as a petal's fall, nearing his cheek with hesitant affection.

He’s paralyzed when your touch indeed lands instead of drifting away.

Your fingers linger, tracing the curve of his jawline with such gentleness, demure and awkward; and the pressure of it makes his skin sing, sparks dancing along every inch.

It's barely a caress, but he feels it in his bones—this ache—that swells and burns, a fire set alight inside his chest that’s on the precipice of consuming him whole.

A whole-body shiver breaks free, but you remain unfazed—your hand is still there, stroking his flesh with such tenderness; soft against the corner of his jaw.

"One is not born to greatness, one achieves it." You're calm, yet firm, a voice that commands respect. He's reminded of the many times he heard you deliver blessings on high ceremonies. There's something about the cadence of your words that pulls at the strings of his soul, drawing him in closer—deeper. "What truly matters is the conviction behind your actions. And, Sir Leon, you may not see it yet. But there's a spark inside your chest that burns brighter than any candle. Don't let anyone dampen it, for it shall shine a path forward unto others and bring glory to our land."

You pull away, leaving a void in your wake. Leon finds himself wanting to reach after you, wanting nothing more than for your skin to keep pressing against his, for your warmth to bleed through his own and ease the burden that's crushing him.

He wants to kiss those fingers that have—

Red hot shame enough to set firewoods aflame shoots straight to settle on his cheeks, flushing them as a wicked feeling sinks in his stomach, a heavy sinking pit. The meaning of your words resounds in his heart like a thunderclap after the lightning that was your touch, your holy words washing over him like a balm—or a warning.

He's brought back to reality abruptly with the harsh cackle of metal against stone as a group of paladins walk by and salute him and bow for the Saintess, pulling him out of a daze as he greets them. Their voices seem distant, faces a blur. It's a miracle Leon manages a nod at them in acknowledgment.

He finds his tongue eventually, his face still aflame with embarrassment at the realization of being in front of the Saintess, an idol of the Church, a woman he thinks of during his late-night ruminations, and still feels guilty for.

"T-thank you, Saintess,” his voice wavers, trembling even with those two simple words that leave him shaking, stirred to the core as if a sudden storm just swept him away to sea, and you are the shore he longs to return to. He fears he might drown in the depths of those beautiful eyes, pulled under by the current.

"It is I who should be thanking you, Sir Leon. You're risking everything to ensure peace for our realm."

Your words wrap around him like a hug, holding him in place while also offering a moment of comfort, like coming home from a long trip away. He treasures those precious few seconds, committing them to memory. But you are a Saintess, not a fellow knight, and there are no hugs or handshakes in his world.

"I'll see you in the ceremony," you continue, before leaving Leon with his heaving chest and a pressure knotting deep in his stomach, walking back to the serenity of the Temple, robes fluttering around your feet like snow settling over frozen earth.

Once you have disappeared into the confines of the temple, he lets out a deep breath. His heart is still beating wildly; the memory of your fingertips brushing his skin is seared into his flesh, an indelible mark that cannot be scrubbed away. He is unable to shake the feeling that he has committed some unspeakable sin; his body a living, breathing violation of his vows.

Leon washes himself in the barracks' bathing chambers, and as he stares at the naked flesh beneath steaming water, his thoughts turn to the ritual that awaits him. In the heat and sweat of it, he wonders if you can wash him clean, baptize his tainted heart.

His sweat trickles down his back, leaving shimmering beads of perspiration in its wake, he can feel each droplet sliding down like a ghostly caress overheated skin glistening under the light of flickering candles; his head is thrown back, and wet hair is slicked away from his face as he reclines in the wooden bathtub. He reaches up to trace the lines of his jaw with trembling fingers that hover just above his skin, remembering what it felt like to have your touch there. He closes his eyes and lets the steam envelop him; he feels the heaviness in his groin, thick and full between his thighs.

In this moment, he is alone with his guilt and shame; but underneath all that self-recrimination there lies a deeper emotion he dares not acknowledge: hope.

The blessing ceremony unfolds with the break of dawn the next day.

Rows of paladins stand at attention, forming a formidable barrier outside the towering chapel. You make your way up the marble steps, flanked by your retinue, and lift your veiled face to behold the regimented paladins before you. Their armor catches the sunlight in a dazzling display, swords resting peacefully in their scabbards. Every single one of them is an anonymous guardian, faces obscured by identical helmets and billowing white capes adorned with a shimmering blue starburst emblem emblazoned on their chest plates.

Upon reaching the summit of the staircase, the massive oak doors swing wide open, revealing an expanse filled with devout worshippers immersed in fervent prayer. Bathed in hues of multicolored light filtering through intricate stained-glass windows, their worshiping forms kneel upon the cool marble floor. Sunbeams caress their bowed heads like a halo, creating a mosaic of ethereal radiance that plays upon their serene features.

The hush that descends as you cross the threshold is whispered benedictions through the hall, enshrouding all present in a solemn embrace as you draw nearer to the altar at its heart.

At the altar stands the head priest, garbed in ceremonial robes—the deep hues of white and gold intertwining with ancient symbols. His palms are raised towards the statue of Ethelion, supplication etched into every line of his face. Before him sits an empty altar table covered in rich crimson velvet trimmed with gold brocade, and at its center rests a silver bowl filled with holy water, reflecting shards of light like fragments of a broken mirror.

Beside the basin stands a golden chalice and a sharp blade gleaming ominously.

You sink into a curtsy before the priest—your knees grazing the cool stone floor—as he intones your full title: "I salute the Beloved of Ethelion, Avatar of Eternity and Renewal,” before he gently beckons you to rise.

Taking your place before the altar, you feel the weight of an entire kingdom resting upon your shoulders. This ritual isn't mere superstition; it's a tangible link between mortal and divine—a celestial promise that Ethelia is indeed favored by the gods.

Yet beneath this grandeur lies urgency cloaked in ceremony: you're chosen by Ethelion to channel his blessing—a gift that comes with strings attached. It promises good health and protection from injury but depletes as quickly as candles flicker out in gusty winds.

You've done this countless times, yet it never becomes easier. You can only hope that the god residing within you answers earnestly today—gracing the paladins with divine strength and healing their wounds as you pour every ounce of yourself into them.

A hushed silence envelops the chamber as the priest lifts up the basin and blesses its water. He then raises it above your head, pouring its contents slowly over your body. The liquid cascades down your shoulders like molten gold—cool initially but warming as it mingles with your skin—and pools at your feet like melted sunlight. It seeps into the hem of your flowing robe which now shimmers like saffron touched by daylight's first rays.

The priest murmurs prayers of consecration while taking up the gleaming blade from beside chalice's stem. Gesturing for everyone gathered to join hands, he swiftly cuts into your wrist without warning—precise and unyielding. Blood oozes forth; dark as ink with whiffs reminiscent faint iron scent permeating air around tendrils curling upward almost ethereal fashion dripping fingers’ tips.

"May Ethelion guide thy swords on this path forward!" you invoke in a solemn tone. The words carry an authority that rings throughout the entire Temple, sending vibrations through the gathered crowd as they repeat your verse.

With a sharp exhale, you approach the priest and rest your open wound over the golden goblet, watching your blood drip into the vessel, drop by painstaking drop. All the while, the attendees recite their blessings in a swelling crescendo, their voices echoing back from the domed roof like an urgent prayer caught between earth and sky.

Your arm throbs incessantly—a dull ache blossoming into searing pain, but you press on, undeterred. Despite how difficult it becomes, there's solace in sharing this burden with others, knowing that they too have a part to play.

Finally, when enough blood has been collected, the priest holds the chalice high and exclaims, "For the kingdom! For Ethelion!"

On command, the paladins march forward with military precision, lining up in single file before the altar, the line extending out of the doors. With measured steps, they kneel in succession, resting their forearms atop the surface in a gesture of humility. You are handed the holy sword, its blade shimmering beneath the lights, its hilt ornately decorated with rubies and diamonds.

Placing your bleeding wrist atop the hilt's cool metal surface, you hold it above the first kneeling paladin's helmeted head. Slowly and carefully, you dip your finger into the cup of crimson liquid and anoint him with your blood by marking his crested forehead—a tangible sign of his sworn loyalty. Whispering a blessing so only he can hear it feels almost intimate—the sword becoming a conduit for divine power. The tip of the blade descends upon his crown; his shoulders instantly stiffen under this sacred touch—they tremble when it grazes one shoulder then moves to deliver an ethereal blow to the other.

The process repeats itself, endless and exhausting, as you move down the line.

Each anointment saps more of your energy reserves until you're left weak and nearly hollowed out from within. Yet pouring every bit of life force into each paladin so they may be shielded on battlefields ahead brings bittersweet satisfaction mixed with aching relief—you find strength anew just enough to persevere.

By the time you reach the end of the rows, your skin feels as paper-thin as the gauzy fabric covering your body. The edges of your vision have started to blur, and it takes considerable effort to stay upright, gripping the edge of the altar to steady yourself. Your heart is fluttering beneath your ribs like a frantic bird, wanting to burst free from its cage of bone and muscle and escape this agony. Your palms are clammy; you're sweating profusely beneath your robes, but despite this, you must see this rite through till its completion.

The ancient wooden door of the chapel creaks open, its mournful groan deafening in the silent night. A thin beam of moonlight slices through the gap, illuminating the dusty air. Inside, flickering candle flames cast warm, trembling light on Ethelion’s marble statue, which gazes down at you with unblinking, expressionless eyes.

You place your mask at the base of His effigy; unveiling yourself like this is a crucial part of the ritual—a moment of communion with the deity. You stand exposed before Him in every way—physically, spiritually, and emotionally. He serves as a mirror reflecting your deepest essence—a piece of you laid bare without fear or shame. Hiding from Him would be like refusing to acknowledge your own existence.

Summoning all your bravery, you remove the fragile veil that acts as your last shield against the world’s curious eyes, letting it rest gently next to your discarded mask. With both face and hair now revealed, you kneel before His statue. Your head bows low in penance, hands squeezed together in a gesture of deep devotion.

"Blessed Ethelion, forgive your servant," you plead with a tremor. "I have doubt in my heart. I'm afraid."

The statue remains silent; only overpowering stillness fills the air as seconds stretch into eternity. Then warmth radiates through you—starting from your chest and unfurling into your limbs—like sunshine poured into your veins, igniting every fiber with radiant energy.

"I don’t want any of them to die," you confess quietly, tears spilling free to splash against the cold flagstone floor. "They’re innocents caught in a war not their own."

There are no words in response, yet you feel an undeniable answer; Ethelion’s reassuring presence envelops you like a warm embrace. He is there to listen to you in silence.

This ritual is a moment of weakness—where fear manifests openly for release. These men are about to step into hell itself beyond the walls. Though they fight for honor and glory, deep down you know it will become a bloodbath—a massacre that will rend this kingdom apart.

"There's nothing sacred about this; yet here I stand sentencing Your children to death," you lament as tears trickle down your cheeks, mingling salty bitterness against trembling lips. No further sign comes; Ethelion appears content merely to observe from His heavenly perch—perhaps reminding you gently of your divine duty—the role He has ordained for you. "I beg forgiveness, O Lord. I could not change the minds blinded by ignorance. My heart bleeds for those suffering because of this conflict. Please protect them so they may come back to bask once more in Your radiant light."

You bow deeply before Him; rising again is a struggle as your knees quake beneath you.

"Saintess."

You jump at the familiar voice that slices through the sanctity of silence, eyes widening in recognition and trepidation.

This is the third time Leon has witnessed you this vulnerable without the holy artifacts shielding the flesh beneath, yet he remains unassuming and gentle; shock absent from his spirit this time. He stands close behind you in this hallowed space belonging solely to Ethelion's infinite wisdom, and you dare not breathe—afraid of shattering this ethereal moment.

"Avert your eyes, Sir Leon.”

The hairs on the back of your neck prickle, standing erect. You remain there unmoving, save for the tiny droplets of sweat gathering on your hairline as he moves with the grace of a shadow, his steps measured and deliberate, until he stands by your side, his eyes unwaveringly fixed upon the towering statue of Ethelion that looms before you both, as if seeking solace in the stone divinity rather against the evil of your human form.

He drops down onto both knees, bowing so low that his forehead nearly kisses the cold stone floor.

A subtle movement draws your attention, and you steal a glance from beneath your lashes. The moonlight caresses strands of golden hair and spins them into threads of silver. His attire deviates from the usual paladin's armor; instead, he wears a simple cotton shirt, its sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, veiny forearms sculpted by hard practice. The fabric clings to his form, hinting at the sinewy strength that lies beneath. Riding breeches embrace his legs snugly, tucked into worn boots that have weathered countless journeys.

The collar of his shirt is notched open, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the base of his throat and the expanse of his upper chest. Your gaze traces the contours of muscle defined beneath the sheer material, and traitorously ventures lower, lingering on the curve of his bent knees before daring to explore further down to where his knuckles rest—taut and unyielding atop thighs etched with power. It leaves your mouth dry.

The intensity with which he shuts his eyes mirrors that boy from years past—the one who clenched his fists tightly against pain, refusing to cry as he battled an illness that should have claimed his life but didn't.

You yield to an impulse, enveloping him in the ethereal embrace of your veil, a shield against the world's gaze and your own. His body tenses beneath the delicate fabric as you glide it over his features, a soft gasp escaping from deep within him. With a trembling exhale, he quivers imperceptibly, fingers pressing into the cloth with a fervor that leaves faint dents on his skin, hands strained from the intensity.

"Open your eyes," you murmur tenderly, reluctant to disrupt the fragile moment.

Gleaming blue flickers into view through the white, translucent shroud, their clarity distorted by the gossamer material. You observe his swallow, the rhythmic rise and fall of his Adam's apple as he tentatively reaches to draw it down over his face.

Through the veil's prism, you must appear as a kaleidoscope of hues and forms to him; a phantom of your true essence, an elusive apparition hovering at the edge of reality.

"The… The blessing went well today," Leon sputters, cracking at the end like glass under pressure.

"Why did you come here, Sir Leon?" you ask gently, sensing that beneath his stiff formality lies a multitude of untold emotions.

"Are you alright?" The genuine concern for your person sends shivers cascading over your skin; fine hairs on your arms lift as he touches his wrist—mirroring right where your blood had been drawn. "Does it hurt every time the blessing is performed? I've never watched it before. It's..."

He falters, mouth opening and closing, and you notice how the fractured light from the windows bathes the swell of his cheeks in a tender luminescence. His words hang between you both, delicate strands of silk trying to knit themselves into coherence.

"It's awful, Saintess. To see your suffering laid bare before everyone."

"I would drain my whole body if it meant those brave men will go out knowing they are protected," you say with resolute calmness, though deep down, you're curious about how he truly perceives you now.

A barely audible "I know," escapes him. It feels like a confession—an unpleasant truth he doesn’t like being faced with. Whatever it holds makes warmth surge through you, igniting your skin and causing another involuntary shiver as he moistens his lower lip with a slow sweep of his tongue. "I know."

"Don't worry about me, Sir Leon. Your job is out there defending these lands, while mine is to ease your burdens. Think only of protecting those who need your shield.”

“Is it wrong to care for those I serve?” His wholehearted question tightens something within you—stirs an undefined yet potent emotion ready to bloom.

"Not at all," you reply almost breathlessly as he gazes intently at the curve of your jawline—your face blurred but memorized by him with stunning accuracy. "Remember whom your sword serves; we live only to honor Ethelion."

"I wish the world were different," his words seem hollowed out, lacking meaning, and yet there's an unmistakable conviction there, a resolve that drives him.

"As do I."

You glide your fingertips over the altar's slick surface, taking in a deep breath that fills your lungs fully with the sanctity of this space.

Then he straightens up suddenly; determination shines in his posture. He doesn’t rise from his kneeling position, yet it frightens you in the same way it would if he had shot up to stand.

"If you'll allow it, Saintess," he says, venerating, and the delicate fabric of his veil brushes against the embroidered sleeve of your robe. That fleeting contact sends a jolt through you, reverberating like a soft, whispered promise. His simple gesture, his proximity—it shouldn’t mean anything. But you feel he might as well have taken your hand in his. "I would pledge an oath to you as well."

There’s a deliberate slowness in how he pulls back, the motion of a man lingering at a threshold he has no right to cross.

Your chest tightens, your breath coming slower as you try to compose yourself. “Of course, Sir Leon,” you manage, though the stillness between you is filled with your uncertainty. What if you're not worthy of his devotion? Of his sacrifice? If he saw what lay beneath the veil, beyond the role of saintess, would he still look at you this way? Or would he recoil, realizing the truth of what you are: flesh and blood, no more divine than the earth beneath your feet?

You feel his stare. It’s as though they’re tracing the length of your body, reaching you through the barrier of the veil, and somehow, that makes the sensation more intimate than if he were standing before you fully revealed.

His breath catches, just slightly. You hear it, feel it, even though the veil between you muffles the sound. "It’s not about whether you’ll accept it," he continues, and there’s a shift in his stance. You can’t see his face, but the way he holds himself, the slight movement of his shoulders beneath the fabric, tells you that he’s grounding himself. "I give this vow because it is mine to give. For you, not for recognition or reward. It’s my choice, my will. No one needs to know."

His spine is ramrod straight now, but there’s a softness in his words, a slight tilt of his head as his eyes search yours. “My loyalty belongs to you alone.”

You swallow hard, the meaning of his words sinking deep into your soul. A lowly servant of Ethelion, that’s all you are. A vessel. No name, no family, no identity beyond the veil. His words... they speak of individual loyalty, devotion to you, not to Ethelion, not to the divine purpose you embody. You are no one. You have no right to such things. How could you take from him what rightly belongs to the god you serve? Wouldn’t you be struck down for such hubris? For leading a paladin astray, pulling him from the only true master he should follow? You tremble at the thought.

"Sir Leon, I cannot accept this." Your fingers curl around the skirt of your robe, the fabric twisting beneath your grip. “It’s—”

His chin lifts, eyes steady on you. "—wrong?"

You start at his interruption. Your voice sounds so feeble as you finish the sentence with a meek, "Yes."

He stays rooted, motionless, but something in the atmosphere shifts again. His breathing, though controlled, seems deeper, and you sense the quiet resolve in the silence that stretches between you.

"Then let me be the one who wrongs Ethelion." His tone carries a weight that presses against you, not through sound but through the way his body holds firm, unwavering. His movements are subtle, restrained, yet the soft brush of his hand grazing his side signals something deeper, a release of tension. "I pledge myself to you, Saintess. To your will, your desires. You are my strength."

The air feels dense, thick with the weight of what he’s offering.

These words flow from him like water spilling over stones, filling up spaces where it couldn't previously reach. The warmth in your chest expands, spreading outward until it seeps into every fiber of your being. Your fingers twitch, the edge of your sleeve twisting between them as you try to ground yourself.

"Please grant me a token of your favor."

Your hands tremble at your sides, your pulse quickening as you fidget with the fabric between your fingers.

What can you possibly offer him?

You glance down, but everything feels out of reach, the world reduced to this one moment.

"But I..." you begin, unsure, your fingers tugging nervously at your sleeve, "I am not a Lady."

There’s a pause, the kind that stretches, and though you can’t see his expression, it feels charged. He shifts ever so slightly, enough that you catch the faint rustle of fabric as he moves.

"All the more reason," he says, a shy smile in his words. "An unworthy paladin asking for a favor from the Saintess—what could be more fitting?"

"Then you may pick whichever object from the temple you desire—"

"I want something of yours, not an icon, nor some relic," he replies immediately, cutting you short, the butteriness sending shivers running down your back. "What do I lack that you have plenty of, that you won't miss, even if it's just a small trinket?"

Your heart stumbles in your chest, the weight of his request crashing into you like a wave. Real? What could you give him? What is yours to offer?

"A lock of hair?" you whisper, feeling your pulse quicken as you say it. The words feel small, vulnerable, but they tumble out before you can stop them. "Would that… suffice?"

Silence follows, his breathing seems to stop.

A lock of hair would belong to you, not the Saintess. A proof of your worldliness, beyond the connection to Ethelion's divine essence. Something that is of the girl and not the holy maiden. Is that what he seeks?

"Your hair," he breathes out in an exhale, as if tasting the words. He appears completely entranced and you become conscious of yourself, the inappropriate nature of just what you brought up.

You draw a slow, shaky breath, the idea settling uneasily in your chest. There’s something intensely personal, too intimate about the exchange. "No, you misunderstand—"

"Your hair, Saintess," he repeats it again, this time more forceful than you've ever seen him; you'd never dare refuse this request and it steals your breath, silencing every protest rising in your throat. "I will accept no less."

Leon rises to his feet, dwarfing you with his broad frame. For the very first time, in Ethelion's presence, you feel small and helpless, like a child who's wandered into his garden. There's something overwhelmingly disarming about sharing this space with him. A foreign sensation blooms within you— a spark that threatens to ignite your world into flames—but you dare not give it voice.

Leon had once worn his armor with pride, each plate fastened like a second skin, the weight of his sword as natural as the rhythm of his heartbeat. Every step forward felt as if he marched hand in hand with something divine, a force greater than himself guiding his every move. The blessing of the saintess had lingered on his skin, a quiet touch that had etched itself into his soul, fortifying his resolve. He had believed, back then, that he was a vessel of the god’s will.

That was years ago.

Now, standing at the edge of the battlefield, the familiar weight of his armor feels heavier, pressing down like an unbearable burden. The bitter taste of dried sweat clings to his lips, and a dull ache pulses beneath his ribs where his armor had done little to stop the last blow. The sun glares down on the blood-soaked earth, the cries of the wounded melding with the clash of steel and the sickening thud of bodies hitting the ground.

This was not what he envisioned. There was nothing divine here.

A shout rises above the noise, sharp and commanding, drawing his gaze toward the horizon. The enemy soldiers draped in black, surge over the hill like a wave of shadow. His grip tightens around his sword, the hilt slick with a mixture of blood and sweat, fingers straining against the leather-bound grip.

“Leon!” A voice, rough and worn from years of battle, cuts through the din. Leon turns, his eyes locking onto Captain Krauser, a veteran whose gaze is as sharp as a hawk’s. His expression is hard, impatient. “Orders from the Temple: we flank their left side!”

Leon’s heart clenches at the mention of the Temple.

It had been a long time since the orders felt pure, righteous. The Church’s demands had grown more questionable with each passing day. What had once been a campaign to protect the kingdom and its people now reeked of ambition—land grabs disguised as divine conquest. Territories seized, villages razed under the pretense of holy duty.

But Leon doesn’t question. He never has. He is a soldier, a paladin. A servant of Ethelion.

The memory of you—serene, always hidden beneath the mask you wore as the Saintess—surfaces in his mind, unbidden, his anchor to the divine, the blessing you placed on him sacred. You believed in him, blessed him with your blood, and for that, he would fight. For that, he would fulfill his duty.

He moves after Krauser, silent as a ghost, maneuvering through the throng of soldiers until they reach the flank. The enemy’s forces are spread thin, their attempt to push the kingdom’s army back leaving them exposed. It should be an easy victory. A victory that would tighten their grip on the region, crush the enemy’s morale.

The order comes swiftly, brutal and final: Leave no one alive.

Leon hesitates, his sword held in a grip that tightens until his knuckles ache. Leave no one alive. The same command they’d been given in the last village. And the one before that. What once felt justifiable—crushing the enemy for the kingdom’s safety—now sits like lead in his bones.

Those they slaughtered hadn’t been soldiers. They were farmers, villagers. Innocents. Women and children.

He closes his eyes for a brief moment, and the memory of the last village rises unbidden, a flash behind his eyelids. He can still smell the smoke, hear the anguished cries of mothers shielding their children. His punishment for hesitating, for not cutting through them as he did the soldiers, feels lighter than the weight of that memory.

“Are you deaf, shiny?” Krauser says with a low growl, dragging him back to the present. “I said move.”

Leon’s jaw tightens, the muscles in his neck pulling taut. His body moves automatically, his sword rising as he steps forward, following the rest of the paladins into the fray. Steel clashes with steel, bodies crash against one another, but the noise fades, swallowed by the gnawing doubt lodged deep in his chest. He strikes down another soldier, their blood splattering across his already stained armor, but the pit in his stomach only deepens.

He had been blessed to protect the kingdom, to serve the saintess. How did it come to this? When did righteousness turn into this—bloodlust veiled by holy orders?

Each swing of his sword feels heavier, as though the weight of every soul he cuts down drags him closer to the earth. He fells another enemy, watching as the light drains from their eyes, but it’s not just the life that drains from them—it’s something in him too.

This war, it’s nothing like he’d imagined. In the temple, they had spoken of glory, of righteousness, of battles fought in the name of Ethelion. His fellow soldiers had whispered about the honor of dying for the Temple, the promise of eternal life in the afterworld. They had made war sound like a divine calling, a sacred rite of passage where every death was sanctified, every act of violence blessed.

Out here, there is no glory.

Only blood.

The blood of his brothers, mingled with the enemy’s, staining the dirt beneath their feet. The screams of dying men linger in his ears long after the fighting stops. He’s seen cities burn, watched women and children scramble through the streets, faces twisted in terror, only to fall under a volley of arrows or be trampled beneath the horses of his comrades.

Leon had thought he could stomach it. He’d steeled himself for the brutal reality of war. But nothing prepared him for the guilt, the crushing weight of it, as each atrocity committed in Ethelion’s name piles higher on his soul.

At first, he’d believed the bloodshed was necessary, part of the divine plan. But with every passing day, that belief crumbles a little more, cracking like fragile glass.

Now, standing over the bodies of men who’d once fought to protect their own, Leon can barely remember why he’s here. He can’t recall the saintess’s face anymore—only a faint echo of your eyes, the memory fading like a forgotten dream.

How did the lines blur so completely?

He tightens his grip on his sword, but the weight of it feels foreign, like a weapon forged for someone else.

Facing the fire, Leon watches the flames dance, their orange glow casting restless light over the camp. The logs hiss and crackle as they blacken, edges curling inward with each passing flicker. Every so often, flares shoot out from the heart of the fire, sending sparks spiraling up into the night before falling back down into the pyre. Heat washes over his face, warm yet uncomfortable, the kind that burns if stared at for too long. Leon turns away, unable to face his own reflection in the fire’s glow.

Around him, shadows shift across the ground as torchlight flickers over tents and hastily constructed barriers. Laughter rises from nearby campfires, men gathered in groups, boasting about their conquests in battle, their stories of women left behind growing hazy with time. The smell of roasting meat mingles with the sharp bite of smoke as soldiers cheerfully drink from their ale rations. Some play cards or dice, animated, full of hope for victories yet to come. Others simply bask in the temporary lull, telling tales of their glory to fill the silence.

Leon keeps his distance, seeking refuge near a cluster of trees where the light barely reaches, and the noise fades to a murmur. His back rests against a sturdy trunk, sword and shield propped beside him, the armor around him a forgotten weight. He has no desire to join in the revelry. Solitude feels more fitting—more honest. He closes his eyes, trying to relish the brief respite, though the chance of true rest feels distant, as elusive as peace itself.

"If you don’t eat, you’ll lose your strength." A gruff scoff breaks the silence, drawing Leon from his thoughts. He glances sideways to find Captain Krauser standing above him, holding out a steaming bowl of stew. The smell of the meat, thick with gravy, rises into the cool night air, but Leon’s stomach churns at the sight of it.

"Captain Krauser," Leon mutters, accepting the bowl out of obligation more than hunger, balancing it on one knee. "Didn’t feel like celebrating with the others."

Krauser doesn’t move. He stands there, arms crossed, his bulk casting a shadow that blocks the faint moonlight. His scarred face is half-illuminated by the fire’s glow, the deep lines etched into his skin more pronounced in the flickering light.

Leon stirs the stew absently, blowing on it before taking a small bite. It’s warm, but tasteless. Each mouthful feels like ash, though he forces himself to swallow.

Krauser lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. He lowers himself to the ground beside Leon with a heavy sigh, the earth shifting beneath his weight. "Is that guilt weighing you down, shiny?" His voice is rough, edged with a mockery that barely conceals his weariness. "Because that’s a damn waste of time."

Shiny. The word used to grate on Leon—an insult for paladins whose armor hasn’t yet been sullied by enough blood and battle. His once-polished metal has long since dulled, but the name lingers. Now, he doesn’t care what anyone calls him. It’s just another word.

"Just a bad feeling," Leon replies with a shrug, forcing another spoonful down. The broth is bland, lukewarm at best, but he eats slowly anyway, chewing as if it will somehow ground him in the present.

Krauser grunts, his large frame shifting uncomfortably as he leans back against the tree. "You’re learning." He pauses, eyes narrowing slightly as he glances toward the distant glow of campfires. "New orders came in. We move south at first light to intercept a convoy carrying supplies."

Leon keeps eating, though his grip tightens slightly on the spoon. He waits. There’s always more.

"Intelligence says there may be hostages," Krauser adds, his voice turning grim. Leon notices how the lines around his eyes seem deeper, more etched than before. There’s exhaustion in them, though it’s well hidden behind his hardened exterior. "Our task is to eliminate the threat to the kingdom."

"Kill the hostages?" Leon’s response is flat, more a statement than a question.

A heavy silence falls between them, stretching like a weight neither of them wants to bear. The fire crackles on, sending occasional sparks into the air, while the distant hum of soldiers' voices fades into the background. The smell of burning wood fills the space between them, thick and stifling.

Krauser doesn’t answer immediately. His jaw clenches, the scar on his face pulling tight as he looks ahead, not meeting Leon’s gaze. "You know the orders," he says finally, the words dropping like stones into the quiet. "We do what we’re told."

Leon lowers the spoon, the taste of the stew forgotten as his stomach twists. He’s not surprised, but that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. He stares into the fire again, watching as the flames curl around the blackened logs, reducing them to nothing but ash.

The sword feels heavier today.

Leon rides ahead of the troops, the rhythmic clop of horseshoes striking the stone path echoing across the endless stretch of open land before him. The morning sun climbs lazily in the sky, casting pale light that stretches the shadows of soldiers and horses over fields soon to be stained with blood.

His breath puffs in the crisp air, small clouds that vanish as quickly as they form. His fingers tighten around the sword’s hilt, knuckles whitening under the strain, even though there’s no immediate need to wield it. Sweat runs in a thin line down his spine, sticking his shirt to his skin beneath the armor.

Behind him, the sounds of the army in preparation are a constant hum—swords being drawn from scabbards, armor buckled into place, horses snorting in nervous agitation. Soldiers march in disciplined ranks, though their faces carry the tension of men too aware of what’s to come. Some are barely more than boys, fresh to the battlefield, eyes wide with fear they think they can hide. The village lies beyond the next ridge, nestled in the hills. The command had been clear: leave none alive.

Leon shifts uncomfortably in the saddle. His throat tightens with the weight of it, as if each breath is a struggle to swallow the bitter taste of what they’re about to do. He glances to the soldiers beside him, seeing faces too young, too eager to kill or die, all in the name of a god who remains as distant as the stars.

There was a time when Ethelion’s will felt as close as his own heartbeat. When the saintess’s blessings had filled him with purpose, your touch a reminder of the grace he fought to protect. What would you think of him now? Would you still offer him your blessing, knowing the blood that stains his hands? The lives he’s taken, the innocents who died beneath his blade?

As they near the village, Leon pulls back on the reins, slowing his horse. The captain riding beside him narrows his gaze, a sharp glance cast his way, but Leon doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Captain,” Leon’s voice comes out rougher than intended. “What if we’re wrong?”

The captain scoffs, not even turning his head. “Wrong? These people are traitors. They must be dealt with.”

Leon’s grip tightens around the reins, the leather biting into his palms. “But we have no proof. No confirmation that they’ve—”

“There is no what if, shiny,” the captain cuts him off, his tone as cold and unyielding as iron. “Our orders are clear. Or have you forgotten your place?”

Leon swallows hard, his throat dry. His place. To serve, to obey, to carry out the will of Ethelion without question.

But his place has never felt so wrong.

They crest the final hill, the village coming into view below. Smoke rises lazily from chimneys, the scent of cooking fires carried on the wind. From a distance, it looks serene. Peaceful. The villagers go about their day, unaware of the army bearing down on them, unaware that in moments, their world will be torn apart.

Leon’s stomach churns. His horse shifts beneath him, sensing his unease, and he forces a slow breath, trying to calm the storm of doubt swirling inside him. His brothers-in-arms march forward, steady and resolute, their swords ready, their minds set on the task ahead.

But Leon’s horse won’t move. It stands rooted, mirroring the weight in his soul.

The captain urges his own horse forward, barking orders to the soldiers to fan out and surround the village. Leon watches as they obey without hesitation, without question. Their faces remain emotionless, minds focused on the task at hand.

How can they not feel it? How can they not sense the wrongness of what they’re about to do?

As the soldiers advance, the first shouts of alarm rise from the village below. Leon can hear it—the panic in their voices, see the sudden fear on their faces. Mothers pulling children close, men scrambling to gather their families. Chaos erupts as arrows fly and swords are raised, and yet, Leon remains frozen in place, his hand trembling on the reins.

The first bodies fall, the clash of steel and screams blending into a cacophony that drowns everything else. The world tilts beneath him, the ground shifting as the sickening sound of death fills his ears, louder than the wind, louder than anything.

I can’t do this.

The thought slices through the haze like a knife.

I can’t.

His grip tightens further on the reins, every muscle in his body tensing, ready to move, ready to do something. Anything.

A shout from behind jerks him from his paralysis. “Sir!”

Leon turns sharply, his pulse racing. A young messenger rides toward him, his face pale, fear etched into every line as he pulls his horse to a stop, barely managing to speak through gasps for air. “Urgent orders from the capital! Princess Ashley has been taken by the enemy. We must mobilize immediately to retrieve her.”

Leon’s heart slams against his ribs.

The princess. The heir to the throne.

For a brief, blessed moment, the chaos of the battlefield fades away, replaced by the only thing that matters. He can save her. He can stop this madness and do something that truly matters.

But the church has other orders.

The captain rides over, his brow furrowed as he tears the sealed letter from the messenger’s hand, the royal crest glinting in the sunlight. He scans it quickly, his expression hardening with each passing second before crumpling the parchment and tossing it to the ground.

“We proceed as planned,” the captain snaps, his tone cold, final.

Leon’s blood runs cold. “But the princess—”

“The orders stand,” the captain repeats, not even glancing at him. “We were sent here to purge this village of traitors, and that’s what we’ll do.”

The sound fades from Leon’s ears, replaced by a sharp ringing that drowns out the Captain ordering the messenger away and trying to direct him to the nearest base.

His pulse pounds in his temples, each beat like a hammer driving nails into his resolve. This isn’t just another village. This isn’t just another order. It’s the future of the kingdom hanging in the balance, and they’re about to throw it all away for what? For bloodshed masquerading as faith?

The bile rises in Leon’s throat, bitter and burning.

He thought he could stomach war. He thought he could follow orders, no matter how brutal. But this?

The last thread of the leash holding him snaps.

Leon’s hands shake on the reins as the captain’s sharp gaze lands on him. “Leon,” the captain growls, noticing his hesitation, “Remember yourself.”

An oath. To serve, to obey, to protect.

But as he looks out over the village, sees the smoke rising, the screams tearing through the air, Leon knows the truth.

This isn’t the will of Ethelion.

This is the will of men.

Men who’ve twisted the divine into something grotesque, something that demands blood for power. Men who’ve forgotten what they were supposed to protect.

Your face flashes before him—soft, kind, with that quiet strength. The words you once spoke come back to him, clear in the chaos.

One is not born to greatness. One achieves it.

“I can’t do this,” Leon whispers, the words slipping out before he can stop them. His voice is barely a breath, but the weight of the truth in them rings louder in his mind than any shout of command.

The captain’s gaze sharpens. “What did you say?”

Leon meets his eyes, feeling the fire build inside him. “I won’t do this,” he repeats, stronger now. “I won’t sit by and watch us slaughter innocents while the kingdom’s heir is in danger.”

“You swore an oath.”

“I swore an oath to protect,” Leon retorts, his breath catching as conviction tightens his chest. “And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

For a long, tense moment, silence stretches between them. The captain’s face twists in fury, his hand hovering near his sword. “You defy the Temple, and you defy Ethelion himself. You’ll be branded an oathbreaker. You’ll never be able to return.”

An oathbreaker. Cast out from the temple, from the faith, from you.

But Leon knows, deep down, that this decision was made long before he spoke the words.

“If following the Temple means abandoning the kingdom, then I’ll bear that title gladly.”

The captain’s jaw tightens, fury flashing in his eyes, but Leon doesn’t wait for the response. He turns his horse with a sharp tug, spurring it forward. The wind rushes against his face as he rides, faster and faster, leaving behind the chaos, the orders, the lies.

He knows what this means. He knows what’s waiting for him at the end of this path. There will be no place for him in the temple, no return to the saintess’s grace.

But as the wind cuts through him, sharp and freeing, he knows one thing for certain:

He’s made his choice.

And now, he’ll live with it.

The streets of the capital are thick with people, their cheers rising in waves that echoed off the towering stone walls of the city, the air alive with the sounds of celebration—laughter, music, the rhythmic beat of drums that thrummed through the cobblestone streets like a heartbeat. Banners of blue and gold flutter in the breeze, catching the midday sun and casting fractured patterns of light across the throngs of spectators who lined the streets.

And there, at the center of it all, rides Leon, astride a massive warhorse clad in gleaming black barding, the royal crest of Ethelion emblazoned on its chest. The horse’s hooves clatter against the stones, a steady, rhythmic sound that matches the beat of the drums, though Leon barely hears it. His focus is elsewhere—distant, cold, fixed on a point far beyond the horizon as the cheers of the people wash over him like distant waves.

He sits tall in the saddle, his body encased in full black armor that gleams like polished obsidian despite the streaks of dried blood splattered across the metal. His cape, once a regal white, fluttered in the breeze, its edges torn and frayed from the brutal campaign that had crowned him victor. Though battered, the helmet is tucked under his arm, leaving his face exposed to the cool autumn air.

The cheers from the crowd echo off the stone buildings, filling the air with a roar of excitement and adoration. Cries of “Long live Sir Leon!” and “Hail the hero!” ring out from every direction, the people pushing and jostling to catch sight of him as he rode by.

It all means little to him.

They shout his name, faces alight with joy, hailing him as their hero, their savior. He has returned from the war triumphant, Princess Ashley safe at his side, the enemy defeated and the kingdom secured. To them, he is a figure of legend, a warrior draped in glory and victory.

But to Leon, the glory feels hollow, like fool’s gold.

He fought for close to a decade, driven by a purpose that no longer existed. The blood on his armor, the lives lost in his name—it all seems to blur together in his mind, a swirling mass of faces and screams that he can’t escape. Even here, amidst the fanfare and celebration, the battlefield clings to him, its shadow cast long and dark over his soul.

The people can’t see it. They see only the armor, the crown of laurels resting atop his head, the bloodied sword at his side. They don’t see the burden of it, the way it presses down on him like a sin he could never lay down.

He glances to the side as the parade moved forward, the crowds pressing in closer as they strained to catch a glimpse of the soldiers coming home. Children are perched on their parents’ shoulders, waving small flags, their faces painted in the colors of the kingdom. Women throw flowers from their balconies, petals raining down like confetti, their bright colors almost a mockery to the dark steel of his armor.

And then, through the sea of faces, something catches his eye.

A small blur, darting between the legs of the adults, weaving through the crowd with surprising speed and determination. Leon’s gaze sharpens, his body tensing instinctively as he tracks the movement, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword.

It’s a child.

A little girl, no more than seven or eight years old, her hair tied in messy braids, face flushed with excitement. She breaks free from the crowd, slipping past the guards who stood watch along the edges of the street, and before anyone can stop her, she runs toward Leon, her small hands clutching something tightly to her chest.

The crowd gasps, a murmur rippling through as the girl reaches Leon’s horse. The guards move forward, ready to intervene, but Leon holds up a hand, signaling for them to stop.

He looks down at the child, eyes dark and tired. The little girl stares up at him, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths, wide eyes filled with awe and something else—something Leon hasn’t seen in a long time.

Hope.

For a moment, the world slows, the noise of the crowd fading into the background as Leon and the girl lock eyes. She is so small, so fragile, standing there in front of him, her little hands trembling as she holds something out to him on her tiptoes.

A flower.

A single white lily, its petals slightly crumpled from her tight grip, but still intact, still whole. She raises it up to him, her hands shaking, lips parting in a shy, nervous smile.

“For you, sir,” she yells, her voice barely audible over the distant roar of the crowd. “Thank you for saving us!”

Leon stares down at the flower, his heart constricting painfully in his chest. The blood on his armor, the dirt caked beneath his fingernails, the weight of the sword at his side—all of it feels wrong in the presence of such innocence. He’s a soldier who threw away his oath, a killer, a man forged in the fires of war, and yet here stands this child, offering him a flower as if he were something more than just the weapon the kingdom had wielded.

His hand, still encased in the cold metal of his gauntlet, moves slowly, hesitantly, as if it doesn’t belong to him. He reaches down, the armor creaking with the motion, and gently takes the flower from the girl’s outstretched hands. The petals brush against the bloodstained metal of his gloves, stark and bright against the darkness of his armor.

“Thank you,” Leon mumbles, rough and strained, the words catching in his throat. His grip tightens around the delicate stem of the flower, careful not to crush it. For a brief moment, the warmth of the child’s gesture pierces through the fog of guilt and weariness that’s permanently settled over him, a glimmer of light in the darkness.

The little girl’s face lights up with a smile, her eyes shining with pure, untainted joy. She stands there and jumps up and down with excitement, beaming up at him as if he were the sun itself, as if his presence alone could banish the shadows that lingered at the edges of her world.

But Leon knows better. He feels the lock of hair curled inside the locket above his heart burn his skin.

The grand doors of the royal palace groan open with an echoing creak, revealing the hall beyond—a glittering display of prosperity and flamboyance that seems to scorn the simple austerity of the life Leon has known. Polished marble floors gleam beneath chandeliers of wrought gold, their light refracting off mirrors that line the walls. The air here is crisp, almost sharp with nose-breaking blends of perfumes, with none of the heavy warmth of the temple's incense.

Leon’s boots click sharply against the marble as he enters, each step ringing out in the cavernous hall, a sound swallowed by the murmurs of the courtiers who line the edges of the room. The steady hum of muted conversations fills his ears, escorted by the occasional clink of glasses. They watch him with calculating eyes, the nobles dressed in silks and velvets of every hue, faces painted with smiles too precise to be genuine, as suffocating as the armor that once bore him through battle.

He feels naked without it now, standing here in formal garb, his sword sheathed and distant at his side, a mere symbol of his victory rather than a tool of survival. The dark fabric of his tunic hangs heavy on his shoulders, trimmed with the royal blue of the kingdom.

Ahead, at the far end of the hall, the king sits on his throne. The high-backed chair is a towering edifice of dark wood, inlaid with gold and precious stones that sparkle under the dazzling chandeliers. The king himself is an imposing figure, draped in royal blues and deep purples, a crown resting atop his graying hair. He watches Leon’s approach with the same detachment as the nobles—his gaze that of a man weighing the worth of a tool rather than acknowledging the triumph of a soldier.

As Leon reaches the dais, he stops, kneeling—an action that should feel natural after years of service, but here, it is different.

The king rises slowly, the robes trailing around his feet like the velvet shadows of dusk, and approaches with the same calculated precision that governs the court. A ceremonial scepter gleams in his hand, more ornament than authority, but its significance is clear.

“Sir Leon,” the king’s words cut through the room like the edge of a blade, each syllable crisp, measured. “You stand before this court as a hero of our realm. For your valor in battle, for your unwavering loyalty to the crown, and for the rescue of Princess Ashley, I bestow upon you the title of Margrave.”

The tap of the scepter on Leon’s shoulder is light, almost delicate, but it might as well have been a hammer.

The king returns to his throne, settling back with a rustle of silk, and gestures for Leon to rise. “Rise, Margrave.”

Leon pushes to his feet, the formality of the moment bearing down upon him as the court claps in practiced politeness. Their applause is soft, a murmur of sound that fades almost as quickly as it had begun, leaving the room in an expectant silence.

It is time.

A low ripple of movement stirs at the far end of the hall as the clergy step forward. Robes of pristine white trail across the floor as the procession approaches, a stark contrast to the vivid blues and purples of the nobility. At the head of the clergy is the Archbishop, his ceremonial staff clicking rhythmically against the floor with each step. And beside him—veiled, serene, and radiant in her holy robes—is the saintess. The mask is a pure white, veil milky and opaque; the contrasts of light and darkness across its fabric give the impression of a reflection on water, of a thousand shifting stars under the sun. On your head rests a delicate crown of silver thorns, interwoven with fine filigree, glimmering like fresh snow, hands folded in your lap are covered by silk gloves, so smooth they almost shine.

Leon’s heart stutters.

This is the moment he has been longing for, the only prayer that’s ever left his lips even after his faith had fallen.

He has endured the war, survived the bloodshed, all for this. For you. For the woman who has been his guiding light, the saintess who had once healed him with her touch, whose presence had filled the void within him during the long, cold nights on the battlefield.

He steps forward, his hands trembling at his sides, his breath catching in his throat as the group approaches the dais.

His knee wants to bend before he even realizes it, the instinct to kneel before you stronger than any other impulse.

But as when you take your place atop the steps of the dais, hands raised in the familiar gesture of blessing, something gnaws at him—an unease that creeps along the edges of his mind. The movement of your hands, the tilt of your head—it is all wrong. Too stiff, too formal.

He hesitates.

The room holds its breath, the nobles watching in silence as the saintess descends down towards him, the veil obscuring your features, body swathed in layers of white that flutter with each step.

Leon’s pulse quickens, and his eyes—despite his every effort not to—search for yours through the veil and the mask. He needs confirmation that it’s him who has changed. He needs to see, even if it is just the glimpse of the eyes he had held in his memory through every moment of agony, through every victory.

But as you draw closer, his stomach drops.

The eyes behind the veil—dark, unfamiliar, and cold—are not yours.

His body freezes, his muscles locking in place as the realization hits him with the force of a blow.

This isn’t you.

This woman—this stranger—isn’t the one he had fought for, the one whose face had kept him alive in the blood-soaked trenches of the war.

The saintess lowers her hands, preparing to lay her blessing upon him, but Leon jerks back, his knees refusing to bend, breath quick and sharp in his chest. The room grows still, the murmurs of the nobles faltering as the tension thickens around him like a noose.

The Archbishop’s head snaps toward him, the ceremonial calm in his expression faltering for just a moment. His fingers tighten around the staff, the knuckles turning white beneath the pressure.

“Margrave,” the Archbishop’s reprimand is sharp, cutting through the air like the crack of a whip. “You must kneel to receive the Saintess’s blessing.”

Leon’s fists clench at his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking under the strain. His body is trembling, but it isn’t from fear. It is from the fear-soaked anger that is building inside him, slow and burning like a fire stoked too long. His gaze fixes on the false saintess, his heart thundering in his chest, his mind spinning with questions that have no answers.

Where are you?

The walls close in, the air thick with the silent judgment of nobles and clergy. Each breath is a growing struggle, laden with the oppressive load of their expectations. His limbs feel anchored, refusing to bow before this stranger, this imposter.

“Margrave,” the Archbishop’s voice cuts through the tension, sharp and commanding. His eyes flash a stern warning. “You will kneel.”

The pressure shatters.

Leon’s body moves before he can stop it, his hands flying out to grab the front of the Archbishop’s robes, yanking him forward with a force that sends the man stumbling, the ornate staff clattering to the floor. A collective gasp sweeps through the room, the nobles recoiling in shock as Leon’s voice, low and ragged, spills out.

“Where is she?” His hiss is a harsh rasp, breaths coming in short, jagged bursts. “Where is the real Saintess?”

The Archbishop’s face twists in fury, his hands flailing against Leon’s iron grip. “Unhand me, you fool! You stand in the presence of Ethelion’s chosen—”

“No.” The word is a snarl, the growl of an animal promising to get violent. Leon’s grip tightens, the anger boiling over, his muscles trembling with the force of it. “What have you done with her?”

The room descends into chaos. Nobles rise from their seats, the sound of their hurried footsteps mingling with the low murmur of alarmed voices. The clergy shift uneasily, their faces pale, but none of them dare to move. The paladins stationed near the walls exchange nervous glances, their hands hovering near their swords, but none step forward.

They have seen what Leon is capable of.

“Release me!” The Archbishop’s voice cracks, his pale face contorted with fear and rage. “You dare attack the church? You will be branded a heretic for this!”

Leon barely hears them, his body trembling with rage as he stares down the terrified clergyman clawing at his arm, nails digging into Leon's skin, leaving behind bloody scratches.

“I don’t care.” Leon’s voice is low, silent, the words spilling from him like venom. “Tell me where she is.”

Before the Archbishop can answer, a hand—small, yet firm—clamps down on Leon’s shoulder.

Princess Ashley doesn’t release his arm as she pulls him toward the side of the throne room, guiding him through the side doors that lead into a quieter, more secluded hallway. The heavy wooden door closes behind them with a dull thud, cutting off the noise of the throne room and leaving them in a sudden, suffocating stillness.

Leon exhales, his breath shuddering as he leans against the wall, one hand coming up to palm at his face, and between his fingers, stares down at the ground with a wild look.

[just-a-ghost00]

What's your life purpose?

Trigger warning : the content of these readings may be touchy. My intention is never to hurt or make anyone feel uncomfortable. Feel free to stop reading if it is too much to handle.

Group 1 - Rollerblade

Cards : Shadow, Compassion, Power, 9 of cups, Hierophant, 9 of swords

This felt very emotional and very specific but for some of you your sole purpose is to come out. Is to finally be yourself unappologetically, to get out of your shell and express your true nature. This will speak to anyone that considers themselves queer or wonders about their identity in general, whether it's about genders, sexuality, fashion, beliefs. Your purpose is to hep other people do the same. To raise awareness and compassion about being out of the norms, thinking and feeling outside the box. To empower people so that they can be themselves without feeling ashamed or fearing other people's opinion. Your purpose is to help people feel secure in their beliefs and feel fulfilled, to stop worrying about the future or whether they'll ever be able to be free. You're here to help shift paradigms around the notions of identity, norms and beliefs. Some of you may have faced public shaming in the past, whether it is in this lifetime or previous incarnations, surrounding your sexuality and/or your appearance. I was picking up specifically on World War II. There might be people amond your ancestors that were persecuted for similar reasons. I'm feeling very emotional doing this reading. If that is something you have gone through, I am sincerely sorry and I hope that you will no longer suffer the pain of being rejected for who you are. I'm getting the feeling of people being demonized because of their beliefs and wrongly accused of things they had nothing to do with. Your purpose is to help people get rid of such karma, to cleanse and purify transgenerational wounds surrounding sexuality, body image, cultural differences. Especially for women. And one of the ways you could be doing that is through art and/or entertainment. Like dancing, rollerblading, singing, painting. I asked for further information regarding hobbies or careers that you can pursue to accomplish your purpose and you got Self Love and The Explorer. So the general answer would be anything that gets you to explore and deepen your sense of self love. If I'm getting more specific, I'm thinking of modeling, yoga, group therapy, reiki, hypnose, meditation, sound healing. Since Self Love depicts a peacock, the activities have to have a connection with beauty/aesthetics/the body somehow. I'm also thinking of tantra. For some it could be related to surgery. Like helping people transition from one gender to another.

Keywords/signs/extras : In the shadows - The Rasmus, bats, ravens, crows, Pisces, Taurus, life path numbers 9/5, pride, rainbows

Group 2 - Lips

Cards : The Warrior, The Universe, Sacred Sexuality, 6 of swords, 10 of pentacles, 4 of cups

There are possible future public speakers among you. And also artists such as graphic designers, digital artists because when I started to do your reading, my drawing software just randomly opened when I didn't even click on it. So if you were hesitating about starting to draw or going digital, this is your sign to go for it. Your life purpose is to bring people together, to reunite people that were seperated. I'm specifically picking up on immigrants, war victims, orphans, people that are homeless or that have a precarious situation. Your purpose is to raise awareness about these subjects, to join an organization and fight for these people's rights. Again, the theme of sexuality is brought out here, similarly to group 1. You could be helping out people that had to flee their home in order to be safe because of their sexuality. Your purpose could be to help people free themselves of toxic environments if that is their wish. So it could be helping victims of physical abuse, domestic abuse, victims of racism/homophobia or any kind of hate crime. I sense some influencer energy coming from this group as well. In all cases, your purpose is to provide people with a safe space where they can either live freely or share their truth. So you could be creating an app to gather people facing the same issues or to put in contact people that are willing to help with people who are in need of help. You could be using your social media and your status to raise awareness about specific causes. You could be getting legally involved by filing lawsuits, by protesting, by adopting. You could be helping people with their administrative papers. There are so many ways this can be done. But I'm getting a very proactive vibe from your group. If group 1 was more about providing moral and emotional support, you are more of the kind to go to the trenches and fight the battles. So some of you could even literally fight by applying for the military. The 6 of swords can indicate travel and we also have the Universe card so this would make sense. Also you could be donating money, funding the construction of shelters for instance.

Keywords/signs/extras : Aries, social media, roses, cranes, dogs, mountains, river side, Indestructible - Disturbed, letter S, life path numbers 1/6/9, NGOs, Not today - BTS

Group 3 - Disco ball

Cards : Patience, The Magi, The Weaver, knight of pentacles, 10 of wands, The Star

Some of you could be tarot readers or use any other form of divination. If that is not your case now, you have the potential to be. You also have the potential of being a public figure. And by that I mean an important one. Kind of Beyoncé level or any other artist that you can think of that you like, no matter the field. It could be acting, it could be film making, it could be fashion design, singing, dancing, ice skating. Anything. Writing also seems really significant. Your purpose is to guide other people. To help them weave their way through illusions and obstacles. To help them move forward and lighten their load so that they can shine their light onto the world and be the best version of themselves. We also have teachers here, coaches, spiritual practitioners of any kind, healers. You bring people to life. You help them give birth to projects. It could be litteral. As in you help moms give birth to their beautiful babies. You help new souls come to life and navigate through this world. I'm picking up on One Piece and Magi references. Specifically I was thinking of Nami and Basil for One Piece. As for Magi I was mainly picking up on Aladdin. I did some research on these characters, especially Basil because I didn't know this character that much and it turns out Basil's ability uses Tarot. He's a fortune teller. When it comes to Aladdin, he's one of the most powerful magicians and his lineage is beyond great but he has no idea because he doesn't remember his past and part of his powers are tied to his memories. He is destined to save his world and become the most powerful wizard of his era but has to fight a lot of enemies to do that. So it could be that you won't reach your full potential until you've uncovered some of your past life memories / traumas. Also you may be facing a lot of challenges and opponents on your path. You may meet a lot of naysayers or a lot of people trying to distract you from your truth and your calling. So that could transpire in your work environment, in your family, in your group of friends. You might notice people hating on you for no reason. That's because your light and power disturbs them. Since there are a lot of magical mentions it could be that some of your ancestors were accused of being witches and persecuted because of that. That might be part of the past life memories you have to deal with. Or you might be living in a country / city that has a lot of legends surrounding witches/wizards (i.e. Salem in Massachussets, Rouen / Orléans/Domrémy in France for their history with Joan of Arc, Britain when it comes to Arthurian legends, New Orleans, Greece with Circe / Hecate, Russia with Baba Yaga and Rasputin, Ireland with the Morrigan, Northern Africa for Kahena).

Keywords/signs/extras : life path numbers 1/8/11/22, psychic abilities, magic, snakes, moon cycles, cranes, stars, Aquarius, Gemini, Youtiful - Stray Kids, wizards

[phoenix----rising]

“When you connect with your lover, if it is energetic first, you can feel them merging inside of your body. Connecting intellectually, connecting energetically, connecting emotionally and FEELING them on a soul level is so much more gratifying than just a physical feeling through lower chakra merging . It is a connection in all of your bodies. When you learn to feel your lover in spirit, you won’t even need to touch to achieve orgasm. It happens through the intamacy of the energetic sensuality that arises through the lovers merging energetically. We are reaching a time for humanity where the lower chakra sexuality is simply not cutting it. Without the higher consciousness involved it is a mundane ritual or exchanging a quick gratification. But as we learn to merge with our lovers from a higher consciousness state of mind, connecting to them through shared like mindedness, through emotional bonding, through energetic alchemy, the mere thought of them, can cause an organismic shift in your energy, leading one into full ecstasy. Then the ritual becomes sacred and holy, on every aspect. This is the art of Tantra. The capacity to move energy within the love union without even touching. A place where you are both safe and vulnerable all at once. A space where all parts of you merge into divine pleasure. Sensual satisfaction. Spiritual wholeness. The essence of love, which heals all things “

Ellen Redd

[ariesmoontarot]

Tarot Card Guide🃏

Numerology:

0: Infinity, eternity, cycles, the void, possibilities, circle of life.

1 (Ace): Leadership, rulership, influence, authority, beginnings, manifestation, action, independence, taking initiative, will-power.

2: Duality, opposites, balance, extremes, femininity, intuition, crossroads, diplomacy, polarity, contrast, planning steps.

3: Collaboration, groups, arts, imagination, fun, gatherings, creativity, self expression, initial achievement of goals, growth, vision.

4: Stability, logic, reason, intelligence, endurance, foundation, hard work, pragmatism, material reality, problem solving, perception.

5: Change, freedom, challenge, conflict, loss, instability, risk, innovation.

6: Love, romance, sex, loyalty, relationships, harmony, communication, problem solving, cooperation, domesticity, healing, service, reciprocity, emotions.

7: Patience, determination, occult, mystic, paranormal, spirituality, contemplation, withdrawal, metaphysics, reflection, motives, assessment, intellect, solitude, control.

8: Progress, drive, ambition, enterprise, effort, focus, prosperity, abundance, movement, action, change, authority, manifestation coming, business, goals, mastery.

9: Wisdom, charity, activism, fruition, manifestation, attainment, understanding, completion, conclusions, compassion

10: Wholeness, completion, fulfillment, end of a cycle/chapter/job/relationship, end of a journey, renewal.

Element:

Air: White (clear)- Intellect, thoughts, mental, beliefs, conflict, truth, fairness, justice, learning, observation, mental stimulation, wittiness, skills, communication, perspective, perception, awareness, strategies, experience, pain, bittersweet, abrupt, swift or abrupt pace/change, quick pace, quick witted, week(s).

Earth: Green- Material resources, possessions, physical, surface level/what you can see, wealth, environment, nature, home, attainment, relationships or connections you have with people, work, physical manifestations, career, money, school/education, stability, health, attachment, body, patience, slow and gradual pace/change, year(s).

Water: Blue- Emotions, love, empathy, spirituality, creativity, happiness, sensuality, romance, compassion, soul connections, intuition, healing, sensitivity, the subconscious, depth, beneath the surface, dreams, flow, month(s).

Fire: Red- Passion, ambition, excitement, energy, action, creativity, efforts, perseverance, will, endurance, challenges, competitors, conflict, anger, growth, maturity, logic, drive, inspiration, ideas, influence, magnetism, plans, visions, sexuality, intimacy, attraction, spirituality, fast and steady pace/change, day(s).

Major Arcana:

0. The Fool: Upright- Free spirited, innocence, youthful, new beginnings, spontaneity, adventure, originality, freedom, idealism, new relationship, new job, new business, new business, new venture, spontaneous spending, financial opportunities. Reversed- foolishness, naive, reckless, impulsive, risky, careless, distracted, immature, childish, gullible, dull, stale, non-committal, flighty, irresponsible, overspending, oversharing, being taken advantage of, stale and boring job, seeing life through rose colored glasses, inconsideration.

1. The Magician: Upright- Manifestation, creation, will-power, determination, concentration, resourceful, skill, ability, desire, powerful, creating opportunities, being proactive, using skills to create, alchemist. Reversed- Abuse of power, manipulation, cunning, trickery, illusion, deception, wasted skills/talent, low willpower, insecurity, doubts, powerlessness.

2. The High Priestess: Upright- Intuition, mystery, alluring, sacred/hidden knowledge, unconscious, spirituality, higher power/divine, inner voice, deep passion and intimacy, calm exterior but intense emotion beneath the surface, education, instincts, not revealing too much for good reasons, remaining patient for the right time to say, reveal, or do something, a guide, mentor. Reversed- Suppressed feelings, ignoring intuition, lost inner voice, lack of awareness, uncentered, secrets, hiding true self, lack of information, feeling isolated, hidden motives, superficiality, confusion, cognitive dissonance.

3. The Empress: Upright- Mother/maternal figure, divine feminine energy, wife, queen, compassion, submissive, pregnancy/conception, birth, creation, creating a new idea, healing, sensitivity, intuition, empathy, sensuality, beauty, abundance, nature, self-expression, supportive person, committed relationship, compassionate coworkers/colleagues, creativity at work, freshening up office, generosity, sharing, material wealth/comfort. Reversed- Lacking empathy, unsupportive, insecurity, overbearing, smothering, negligence, lack of growth/progress, immaturity, jealous, clingy, lack of self-worth/confidence, feeling insecure at work or with finances, codependency, lack of self-assurance, moody, irritable, overwhelmed.

4. The Emperor: Upright- Father/paternal figure, divine masculine energy, husband, king, leadership, boss, authority, power, higher position, principles, independence, good reputation, logic, supportive, provider, committed lover, stability, passionate, initiative, structure, self-control, calm, protective, self-disciplinary, practicality, focus, creates rules/systems, knowledgeable, strategic, goal-oriented, very serious/traditional person, routine, older/wiser, isn't always emotional and uses logic and reasoning in love, careful about spending time, money, etc. Reversed- Rigid, egoic, stifling, controlling, possessive, abuse of power or authority, toxic masculinity, tyranny, lack of self-control/discipline, recklessness, temperamental, power struggles, competitiveness, overbearing partner, bad reputation, bad boss, mediocre, low concentration, bureaucracy, over-spending, coldness, unauthenticity, narcissistic, overly logical, close-minded.

5. The Hierophant: Upright- tradition, religion, social groups, marriage, conventionality, conformity, education, knowledge, beliefs, ceremonial, institutions, safe/traditional person, avoiding taboo, spiritual love, morals and ethics, sharing a set of beliefs, teamwork, mentor, teacher, success in work groups, keeping money safe. Reversed- untraditional, unconventionality, breaking taboo, breaking out of social/familial norms/expectations, new approaches, rebellion, subversiveness, values not aligned, stale relationship/job/investment, peer pressure, bureaucracy, confinement, stifling, taking risks with finances, new institutions, breaking down a traditional set of beliefs (could be religious).

6. The Lovers: Upright- Love, union, connection, marriage, a deep and spiritual relationship, partnership/friendship, teammates, duality, reverence, commitment, choices, romance, togetherness, trust, balance, harmonious, romance at work/school. Reversed- lack of harmony, deception, unfaithful, infidelity, separation, lack of trust, imbalances, non-committal, romance at work causing trouble, not responsible about finances, conflicts between colleagues/friends/family, detached partner, one-sidedness.

7. The Chariot: Upright- Success, ambition, determination, will-power, control, self-discipline, focus, moving forward, pursue a plan with a structured and ordered approach, action, taking control, motivation, direction, strength. Reversed- Lack of control, lack of direction, aggression, forceful, powerlessness, obstacles, obsession with finding love, lack of ambition, pushy, rushing, hesitant about financial decisions.

8. Strength: Upright- Confidence, strength, will-power, courage, humility, bravery, compassion, inner power, resilience, perseverance, fearlessness, strong caring relationship, self-mastery, boldness, large purchases, controlled spending, self-control, discipline, taming the ego, beauty and the beast. Reversed- Insecurity, lack of control, fear, ego, ruthlessness, weakness, inadequacy, coward, forcefulness, domination, low self-esteem, negativity about love, imposter syndrome, fear of making big moves, compulsiveness, compulsive spending, hesitancy about spending.

9. The Hermit: Upright- Solitude, self-reflection, inner voice/guidance, wisdom, old soul, lone traveler, retreat, separation, seeking truth, contemplation, introspection, search for self, withdrawal, dark night of the soul, tapping into the unconscious mind, digging deep within yourself, seeking answers, pausing love to introspect, self-understanding in love, contemplating next steps, searching for purpose, less focus on materialistic things, contemplating the role of finances in happiness. Reversed- Loneliness, isolation, lost your way, recluse, anti-social, rejection, returning to society, distance, feeling distant from partner, realigning career to internal goals, outcast at work, working alone, better understanding of material situation.

10. Wheel of Fortune: Upright- Change, direction, closing a cycle, ending a chapter/relationship, coming to an end, fate, divine timing, patience, good luck, the inevitable, favored outcome, fortune, decisive moments, changing of season, making adjustments, navigating change with partner, opportunities present, adaptable, flexibility. Reversed- No control, control issues, bad luck, unfavorable outcomes, resistance, delays, obstacles, holding onto the past, refusing to change, something completely outside of your control causing delays.

11. Justice: Upright- Fairness, balance, karma (can be good or bad), consequences, getting sentenced, legal matters, truth, law, accountability, honesty, integrity, pleading, cause and effect, compromise, give and take, equality, reciprocity, repentance. Reversed- Lack of accountability, unfairness, injustice, not facing the consequences, imbalance, dishonesty, breaking the law, corruption, retribution, treating someone unfairly, blaming the wrong person, untrustworthy financial dealings, avoiding financial accountability, unfair love/work/family life, sinning, deception.

12. The Hanged Man: Upright- Surrender, changing perspective, stagnancy, pause, sacrifice, release, martyrdom, waiting, uncertainty, lack of direction, contemplation, suspension, indecision, patience, repentance. Reversed- Stalling, needless sacrifice, fear of sacrifice, stagnation, disinterest, standstill, apathy, changes in love, new perspective, new career move not working, procrastination, failed investment, wasted sacrifice.

13. Death: Upright- Endings bring new beginnings, dark night of the soul, spiritual rebirth, ego death, could be literal, letting go, release, metamorphosis, transformation, change, transition. Reversed- Fear of change, fear of letting go, not accepting an ending, having a difficult time with a loss, staying the same, holding on, stagnation, repetitive, going in circles, unhealthy financial habits, resistance, lack of growth, inadaptability.

14. Temperance: Upright- Balance, harmony, flow, reciprocity, equilibrium, middle path, patience, divine timing, finding meaning, moderation, calm, serenity, peace, tranquility, careful consideration, steady and slow progress, diligence. Reversed- Excess, extremes, too much, imbalance, overindulgence, impatience, hastiness, rushing, recklessness, all or nothing attitude, temporary fulfilment in a situation.

15. The Devil: Upright- Fear, addiction, materialism, feeling chained or tied down in some way, escapism, lust, overindulgence, excess, oppression, control issues, sexual manipulation, powerlessness, pulling strings, codependency, limitations, hedonism, selfishness, obsession, self-sabotage, bad habits, lack of self-control, blaming/ lack of accountability, toxicity, addict, substance abuse, abuse. Reversed- Release, freedom, revelation, independence, reclaiming power, regaining control, ending co-dependency, taking accountability, empowerment, breaking out of bad habits, ending toxicity.

16. The Tower: Upright- Sudden upheaval, revelation, unexpected, shocking disaster, shocking situation, chaos, the breakdown of a faulty relationship or lifestyle, faulty foundation, the breakdown of illusions, broken pride/ego death, destruction, trauma, the breakdown of beliefs that are no longer useful, sudden loss. (the tower usually happens very quick and abruptly) Reversed- Averting disaster, trying to keep something from inevitably falling apart, resisting change, leaving a weak relationship, surviving disaster, overcoming chaos, surviving, leaving a temporary situation, avoidance, repeating financial troubles.

17. The Star: Upright- Hope, rejuvenation, healing, inspiration, fame, wish fulfillment, faith, renewal, positivity, optimism, reaching goals, accomplishment, awakening to oneself (finally seeing your potential). Reversed- Unhopeful, lack of faith, uninspired, negativity, pessimistic, despair, depression, despondent, self-criticism, lack of confidence, unmotivated, dissatisfied.

18. The Moon: Upright- Secrets, illusions, unconscious, intuition, dark night of the soul, in the dark, hidden truth, hidden emotions, the unseen, confusion, complexity, mystery, uncertainty, let your intuition guide you through the things you can't see or understand, repressed intuition. Reversed- Deception, truth revealed, clarity, what's done in the dark always comes to light, misinformation, misinterpretation, fear, confusion, trickery, sabotage, paranoia, misunderstanding, understanding, anxiety, inner realization, not facing the truth.

19. The Sun: Upright- Happiness, coming out of a dark night of the soul, joy, abundance, manifestation, inner child, creativity, clarity, healing, revitalized, vitality, creative ideas/opportunity, creativity in love, children, optimism, positivity, celebration, party, success, confidence, radiance, enthusiasm, energetic, bubbly, strong financial situation. Reversed- Negativity, depression, sadness, insecurity, secrets, hidden truth, feeling unsuccessful, creative blocks, lack of energy, unenthusiastic, inner child wounds, pessimistic, unable to see joy in love or anything, boredom, taking things for granted, unrealistic beliefs/ideas, unappreciative, hardships are only temporary the sun will shine again, overly optimistic.

20. Judgement: Upright- Self-evaluation, facing judgment, spiritual awakening, renewal, finding purpose, reckoning, reflection, gaining self-awareness. making adjustments in love, renewed love. Reversed- Lack of awareness, lack of accountability, self-doubt, self-loathing, failure to learn lessons, denial, self-denying.

21. The World: Upright- Coming to a close, wrapping things up, cycles ending, certain phase ending, relationship ending, endings bring new beginnings, moving on, completion, achievement, fulfillment, sense of belonging, wholeness, harmony, enlightenment, nirvana, connectedness, gratitude, feeling love, in alignment. Reversed- Lack of closure, emptiness, feeling incomplete, missing something, lack of achievement, taking someone or something for granted, false measures of success, close to completing a goal, unfulfilled, ungrateful.

Court Cards:

Kings: The Leaders/Authorities- Usually a father figure or a highly evolved person who could embody masculine energy, but certainly doesn’t have to. Upright- They’re very responsible and have a high position in some way. Provides, takes initiative, has stability, their reliable, supportive, protective, strategic, charming, powerful, commanding, esteemed. Reversed- Abusive, narcissistic, controlling, possessive, egotistical, overbearing.

Knights: The Go-Getter/Pursuer- Usually a young adult or someone who’s just starting to master a certain task, skill, or ability. Upright- They learn by taking action and not being scared of the action they take. They dive into any situation. Courageous, willful, risk-taking, passionate, offering, adventurous, persuasive, charming, suave, confident. Reversed- Arrogant, irresponsible, flighty, impulsive, prideful, non-committal, player.

Queens: The Creators/Care-takers- Usually a motherly energy or someone who is more evolved and mature within their energy. They handle situations like an adult would. Upright- They’re very intuitive & led by their heart majority of the time. Creative, nurturing, receptive, generous, compassionate, alluring, independent, and patient. Reversed- Introverted, co-dependent, overwhelmed, manipulative.

Pages: The Messengers/Scholars- Usually a teen, young energy, or someone who is not yet fully matured in a specific area or in general. They observe, research, and take in almost everything. Upright- Curious, innocent, inspired, playful, optimistic, imaginative, in awe of life and their experiences. Reversed- Naive, immature, compulsive need to be right, has a lot to learn.

Minor Arcana:

🗡️Swords: Air Element- Gemini, Libra, Aquarius.

King of Swords: Upright- Head over heart, disciplined, truthful, honest, intelligent (intellectual), reason, authority, integrity, morality, serious, high standards, strict, observant, keen, clear minded, spiritual understanding, open minded, diplomacy, good judgment, rational, reserved, controlled emotions, stern but righteous mentor, challenges or challenged to do yours or their best, thinking realistically, logical, boundaries, detail-oriented, picky about who is allowed close to them, makes smart decisions, cool, calm, collected, blunt, mentally stimulating, self-control, good thinker and communicator, mentally stable, knowing when to speak or listen. Reversed- Cold, inhumane, cruel, heartless, ruthless, oppressive, secretive, selfish, narcissistic, controlling, mentally abusive/disturbed, dishonest, ingenuity, dominating, judgmental, overly opinionated, overly critical, low standards, always wants to be right, uses intellect to an advantage, dark minded, pessimistic, dark humor, mentally unstable, extreme vulnerability, ferocious, doesn’t communicate, cold shoulder, ghosts or blocks people, narrow minded, over sharer.

Knight of Swords: Upright- Assertive, direct, impatient, intellectual, daring, communication, focused, perfectionist, ambitious, likes a challenge, easily bored, needs mental stimulation, fears about intimacy, messenger, decisive action, quick thinker/communicator, difficulty committing, getting things done quickly, really focuses on what they have in mind, efficiency, making big moves, focus on financial goals, taking action towards goals, defending beliefs. Reversed- No direction, disregarding consequences, unpredictability, aggressive, bully, mentally abusive/disturbed, intensely argumentative, ruthless, vicious, arrogance, ferocious, intimidation, fraud, dishonest, scams, coercion, shady, rude, tactless, ignorant, doesn’t communicate at all, ghosts and blocks people.

Queen of Swords: Upright- Honest, truth, observant, rational, keen, intelligent (intellectual), open minded, fair, calm, disciplined, reserved, self & spiritually aware, principled, perceptive, objective, constructive criticism, independent, good judgment, balances logic and emotion, looking at the facts before making a decision, detail-oriented, thinking realistically, blunt, telling it like it is, high standards, picky about who is allowed close to them, boundaries, wise guidance, teacher, mentor, respected, knowing when to speak or listen. Reversed- Pessimistic, malicious, dishonest, harsh, bitter, spiteful, cruel, deceitful, unforgiving, cold shoulder, cold hearted, ghosts or blocks people, wants to be right, narrow minded, selfish, mentally unstable, mentally abusive/disturbed, trauma, toxic person, poor communication, confusion, irrational, extremely vulnerable, overly critical, judgmental, overly opinionated, uses intellect to an advantage, overthinker, over sharer.

Page of Swords: Upright- Curious, witty, chatty, communicative, messenger of legal matters/gossip/agreements/truth, inspired, vigilant, alert, mental agility, loves to learn, passionate about debates/ heady discussions, shy, intellectual person, lack of emotional intimacy, flighty, nervous, anxious, could be in school, brainstormer, ambitious. Reversed- Gossipy, scatterbrained, cynical, sarcastic, insulting, rude, lack of planning, talks too much, anxious chatter, argumentative, loves to be right, defensive partner, failure to communicate healthily, over sharer, flighty, uncertainty, over-thinker, researching but taking no action, insensitive, deceptive, all talk no show, two-faced, stalker, instigator.

Ace of Swords: Upright- Clarity, truth, spiritual awakening, revelation, communication, new perspective, learning a lesson, mentally maturing, breakthrough, new idea, vision, force, focus, facing problems honestly, facing reality, stimulating situation or environment, think rationally, avoid making emotional based decisions, sharp mind. Reversed- Confusion, brutality, chaos, lack of clarity, not facing the truth, miscommunication, hostility, arguments, destruction, uncertainty, clashing perceptions, painful words, failure to learn, unable to express thoughts clearly, boredom, double check finances/statements/legal documents.

Two of Swords: Upright- Indecision, confusion, illusion, second-guessing oneself, trying to listen to intuition, stalemate, stuck in the middle, denial, hidden information/secrets, choosing between two directions, things, or people, choosing between love/family/work, conflicts at work, taking sides, avoiding decisions, difficult choices, being gaslighted. Reversed- Lesser of two evils, no choice is a right choice, confusion, failure to make a choice, inaction is an action, hesitancy, too much information, truth revealed, clarity, anxiety, can’t prioritize love/work/family, stressful decisions, accepting financial position.

Three of Swords: Upright- Heartbreak, sadness, grief, depression, betrayal, third party interference, breakup, pain, heart issues, sorrow, loss, trauma, tears, argument, hurt feelings, feeling hopeless, disappointment, division of assets after divorce or breakup. Reversed- Healing, forgiveness, recovery, reconciliation, repressing emotions, holding onto sadness, moving on after pain, separation, putting conflicts behind you, developing better processes, building savings, finding stability, severe grief about finances.

Four of Swords: Upright- Meditation, rest, recuperation, relaxation, finding a peace of mind, sanctuary, self-protection, rejuvenation, a choice to withdrawl, exhaustion, a need to find quietness, alone time, taking a vacation, mental health day, anxiety about finances, avoid overthinking, contemplation, restoring, getting better sleep/taking a nap. Reversed- Restlessness, burnout, stress, mentally drained, recovery, awakening, re-entering world, release from isolation/withdrawal, refreshed, rejection from pressuring lover, reigniting passions, not accepting support, overcoming stress.

Five of Swords: Upright- Combativeness, wanting to be right, bully, one undermining the other, challenging beliefs or opinions, not being heard, not listening, arguments, disputes, aggression, intimidation, conflict, hostility, stress, tension, refusing to agree with someone else, irritability, fighting, defensiveness, being taken advantage of. Reversed- Reconciliation, resolution, agreement, compromise, revenge, regret, remorse, cutting losses, walking away, breaking up, forgiveness, open dialogue, sabotage, loosening of tension, relief, resentment.

Six of Swords: Upright- Overcoming a hard time, moving into calmer waters, leaving the past in the past, moving forward, moving away, leaving home, leaving a job, leaving a relationship, departure, distance, accepting lessons, feeling sad but moving on, reconciling after a fight. Reversed- Holding onto the past, stuck in the past, haunted, can’t move on, creating conflicts, self sabotage, trapped at job/relationship/or in a situation, avoiding dealing with finances, emotional baggage, unresolved issues, resisting transition, returning to the past, returning to trouble, running away from problems.

Seven of Swords: Upright- Strategize, sneakiness, secretive, thief, lies, deception, scheming, trickery, resourcefulness, cunning, trying not to get caught, manipulative tactics, affair, sparing feelings, feeling suspicious, gossip, jealousy at work, shadiness, fraudulent, scams. Reversed- Confession, getting caught, conscious, regret, maliciousness, truth revealed, end of playing games, dropping pretension, liars exposed, consequences of actions, changing approach, consequences of dishonesty in financial dealings, still deceiving after being caught.

Eight of Swords: Upright- Self-sabotage, limiting beliefs, fearful, overthinking, analysis paralysis, mental captivity, restricted, victimized, paralyzed, helpless, powerless, imprisonment, feeling controlled, smothered, suffocated, passive in love life, dependence on person or job, can’t change careers, fear of job change, anxiety about money, can’t see financial opportunity. Reversed- Freedom, release, taking control, survivor, facing fears, empowered, surrender, clearer perspective, active role in love life, new job to reach potential, freedom from anxiety, continued struggle, intensified anxiety, paranoia, fears clouding the truth, dissociation, self-acceptance.

Nine of Swords: Upright- Anxiety, overthinking, losing sleep, restless mind, replaying events and experiences over and over again, nightmares, sleep paralysis, isolation, fear, terrified, breaking point, mental breakdown, crying, despair, trauma, needing to open up about pain and grief, not trusting, suspicious, regretful, no coping mechanisms, stress, panic, consuming worries, feeling deprived. Reversed- Seeking help, alienating stress by opening up, clarity, finding peace of mind, stresses manifesting in real life, poverty, lack of resources, learning to cope, recovery, facing life, shame, guilt, mental health issues.

Ten of Swords: Upright- Betrayal, deception, attack, ending, loss, destruction, sabotage, pain, dead end, failure, ruin, exhaustion, bitterness, victimization, collapse, tragedy, breakup, infidelity, failed investment, loss of finances/home. Reversed- Survival, improvement, healing, lessons learned, despair, relapse, putting relationship back together, changed jobs, found less stressful work, avoided financial ruin or bankruptcy, can’t get worse, only upwards, inevitable.

🏅Pentacles: Earth Element- Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn.

King of Pentacles: Upright- Abundance, prosperity, security, ambitious, safe, kind, patriarchal, protective, businessman, provider, sensual, reliable, supportive, patient, loyal, self-assured, trustworthy, committed, successful, prosperous, father/husband, generous, good partner, diligent, careful, practical, reserved, good reputation, good at saving and investing, referrals, encouraging, conservated, mentor, teacher, friend, family member, family/career oriented. Reversed- Greedy, materialistic, wasteful, chauvinist, poor financial decisions, gambler, exploitative, entitled, possessive, physically/financially abusive, attachment issues, co-dependent, stubborn, controlling, insecure, egotistical, bad reputation.

Knight of Pentacles: Upright- An offering of commitment or secure relationship, offering to work together, long term investment, practical, reliable, efficient, stoic, slow and steady, hard-working, committed, patient, conservative, loyal but stubborn, focused, goal-oriented, determined, frugality, efficiency, charming. Reversed- Non-committal, lazy, insecure, unreliable, overly stubborn, obsessed with money, workaholic, dull, boring, no initiative, cheapskate, irresponsible, gambler, risky investments, homebody, neglecting relationship/friends/family/self, little or too much ambition, wasting time and money.

Queen of Pentacles: Upright- Generous, caring, nurturing, homebody, good business sense, practical, comforting, welcoming, sensible, luxurious, gentle, supportive, patient, committed, mother/wife, friend, lover, teacher, mentor, stable, conservative, encouraging, good partner, trustworthy, reliable, loyal, family oriented. Reversed- Co-dependent, controlling, insecure, materialistic, selfish, unkempt, jealous, insecure, greedy, gold digger, intolerant, self-absorbed, envious, unfaithful, bad partner, money mismanagement, hoarding, smothering.

Page of Pentacles: Upright- Ambitious, diligent, goal oriented, planner, consistent, star student, studious, grounded, loyal, faithful, dependable, connectedness, quiet/shy, steady, diligent, dedication, big dreams, setting good habits. Reversed- Foolish, immature, irresponsible, lazy, underachiever, procrastinator, missed chances, poor prospects, all talk no show, non-committal, boredom, monotonous relationship, avoidant, wants easy results with no work, insecure, greediness, begger.

Ace of Pentacles: Upright- Long term opportunity, new opportunities, a long-term goal, accomplishment, committed relationship, graduation, physical manifestation, resources, abundance, family, prosperity, security, new venture, receiving the fruit of your labor, an investment, new job, privileged person/couple/family, attaining financial wealth, inheritance. Reversed- Missed opportunity, missed chance, bad investment, scarcity, deficiency, instability, stinginess, lacking financial support, self-doubt, money issues affecting relationship, job loss, bad financial decisions/habits, needing to budget your resources.

Two of Pentacles: Upright- Balancing out work/family/love, balancing self care/work, balancing out your time and energy, adaptation, balancing resources, spirituality and practicality, flexibility, multitasking, prioritizing what's most important, resources are tight/unstable finances, weighing out the best options. Reversed- Disorganized, scattered, overwhelmed, imbalance, messiness, chaos, overextending, unfocused, negligence, taking things/someone for granted, overworked, too much of something, juggling a lot all at once, too many bills, can't keep up with deadlines or payments, focusing too much on one area and neglecting another.

Three of Pentacles: Upright- Sharing ideas, shared goals, partnerships, collaboration(s), group effort/project, working with others to achieve the same goal, teamwork, apprenticeship, pooling energy, a goal or project requiring diverse skill sets and opinions to create a successful outcome, learning about finances, getting advice about a long-term goal, investment, or project. Creative hobbies. Reversed- Disagreements, not working together, refusing to take on another's ideas or opinions, lack of cohesion, apathy, poor teamwork, poor motivation, conflict, ego, competition, stress and frustration with partner or colleagues, conflicts in practical life, office politics, avoiding learning about finances or required skills/resources.

Four of Pentacles: Upright- Materialism, possessiveness, hoarding, stringiness, stability, security, insecurity, savings, wealth, frugality, boundaries, guardedness, greediness, not wanting anyone or anything to take away wealth, clingy, jealously, control issues, holding onto the past, imposter syndrome, paranoia, avoiding collaboration, stable finances, saving for future, conservation. Reversed- Greediness, stinginess, possessiveness, overcoming jealousy, letting go of the past, letting go of past or overdue relationships, generosity of with colleagues, risky work decisions, spending, donating, giving, sharing resources.

Five of Pentacles: Upright- Hardships, hard times, loss, loss of home, eviction, isolation, feeling abandoned, adversity, struggle, unemployment, alienation, disgrace, losing something valuable, depression, feeling distant, outcast, poverty, debt, bankruptcy, tight finances. Reversed- Overcoming hardships, positive changes, recovery from loss, overcoming adversity, forgiveness, feeling welcome, opening yourself up to others, friendships at work, saving, paying debts, charity, improvement.

Six of Pentacles: Upright- Generosity, charity, giving, community, material help, support, reciprocity, gratitude, supportive relationship, mentor, being valued employee, investors, donations. Reversed- Power dynamics, abuse of generosity, strings attached/offerings, inequality, extortion, taking advantage or being taken advantage of, controlling lover, hidden agendas, sucking up to bosses, being a pick me, teachers pet, lack of help, unfair loans, resentment, abuse of authority, domination.

Seven of Pentacles: Upright- Patience, harvest, rewards, results, growth, planning, perseverance, determination, hard work will pay off in time, effort, friendship turns to romance, evaluation of progress, slow and gradual progress. Reversed- Unmotivated, laziness, waste of time/energy, lack of energy, procrastination, one sided effort, unfinished work, low effort, impatience, lack of growth, lack of reward, hard work not paid off, lay-off, no results, can't rush or hurry love, stagnancy, losses, little financial compensation, distractions.

Eight of Pentacles: Upright- Skill, talent, craftmanship, quality, high standards, expertise, mastery, commitment, dedication, accomplishment, achieving goal, cultivating success, promotion, financial rewards, becoming financially independent, diligence, passion. Reversed- No motivation, uninspired, no passion, neglect, tedious job, low quality, low standards, carelessness, overspending, impatience, bad reputation, mediocracy, laziness, low skill/talent, dead end job.

Nine of Pentacles: Upright- Self-assured, confidence, independence, stability, success, achievement, rewarded efforts, leisure, material security, self-sufficiency, joy, freedom, high standards for partners, balance of love and independence, spending. Reversed- Insecurity, living beyond means, obsession with work, false success, fear of giving of independence, being guarded in love, desire for fast success/money, desire to succeed with no work, overspending, acting on impulse.

Ten of Pentacles: Upright- Inheritance, financial freedom, coming together of family, legacy, roots, ancestry, windfall, foundations, marriage, privilege, affluence, stability, long-term success, long-term manifestation, culmination, long-term relationship, milestone, family approval, stable future. Reversed- Acting on too much short-term fulfillment, family disputes, bankruptcy, debt, fleeting success, conflict over money, conflict in between love and family, outside opinions affecting love life, instability, breaking traditions, company dissolutions, unstable career.

🍷Cups: Water Element- Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces.

King of Cups: Upright- Wise, diplomatic, balance between head and heart, devoted, advisor, counsellor, compassion, faithful, loyal, loving, gentle, supportive, caring, intuitive, spiritual, calm, balance, control, goes with the flow, mysterious, intimate, values connection and openness. Reversed- Cold, moody, bad advice, overwhelmed, anxious, repressed, withdrawn, manipulative, selfish, secretive, deceitful, unfaithful, emotionally manipulative, controlling, victimization.

Knight of Cups: Upright- Idealist, charming, artistic, graceful, tactful, diplomatic, mediator, negotiator, romantic, a lover not a fighter, messenger, invitation, romance, attraction, flirty, hopeless romantic, player, unrealistic expectations. Reversed- Disappointment, tantrums, moodiness, turmoil, avoiding conflict, vanity, obsessive, serial dater, extreme player, passive aggressive, wishy-washy, false appearance.

Queen of Cups: Upright- Compassion, warmth, kindness, intuition, healer, counsellor, supportive, devoted, loyal, faithful, empathetic, trustworthy, attractive, deepening existing relationships, submissive, caretaker, generous, calm, comforting. Reversed- Martyrdom, obsessive, clingy, attachment issues, co-dependent, insecurity, giving too much, overly sensitive, needy, fragile, one-sided love, emotional exhaustion, overextending, victimization.

Page of Cups: Upright- Idealism, sensitivity, dreamer, naivete, innocence, inner child, head in the clouds, message of love, persistence, new perspective, imaginative, easily falls in love, happy surprise. Reversed- Emotional vulnerability, immaturity, over-expressive, being taken advantage of, easily fooled, overly sensitive, victimization, emotionally co-dependent, disappointment, very unrealistic, escapes from reality, unrealistic thinking, overindulgence in a fantasy.

Ace of Cups: Upright- Emotional awakening, new love, pregnancy, birth, spiritual awakening, new feelings, happiness, creativity, intuitive and emotionally led actions are favored during this time, release of emotion/tears, letting go of emotional baggage and stress, deeper intimacy, next level in friendship, openness. Reversed- Blocked emotion, repressed intuition, breakup, sadness, depression, emptiness, emotionally exhausted, coldness, emotional loss, blocked creativity, feeling unloved, gloominess.

Two of Cups: Upright- Trust, balance, harmony, duality, emotionally deep connection, spiritual connection, complimenting each other, healthy balance between two people, close bonds, attraction, mutual attraction/feelings, coming together, reconciliation, new relationship. Reversed- Lack of trust, imbalance, disharmony, miscommunication, distance, lack of communication, deceit, secrets, pain, infidelity, tension, separation, breakup, division, withdrawal.

Three of Cups: Upright- Friendships, parties, gatherings, celebrations, community, group events, social events, friendship leading to love, deep friendship with lover, meeting someone at a party/gathering, financial milestone. Reversed- Gossip, scandal, third party interference, isolation, short but exciting romance, one night stand/sneaky link, excess, loneliness, overindulgence, imbalanced social life, solitude.

Four of Cups: Upright- Apathetic, depression, sadness, bitterness, resentment, emotional turmoil, choosing to remain unhappy, pessimism, contemplation, feeling disconnected, melancholy, boredom, indifference, discontent, lack of excitement. Reversed- Overcoming sadness, choosing to be happy, clarity, sudden awareness, acceptance, excitement, new inspiration.

Five of Cups: Upright- Sadness, loss, grief, heartache, disappointment, crying over spilled milk, focused on the negative feelings, mourning, feeling let down, dwelling, self-pity, regret, things are still salvageable. Reversed- Acceptance, moving on, finding peace, contentment, seeing the positives, healing, relief, rebuilding.

Six of Cups: Upright- Nostalgia, reflecting on the past, learning from past experiences, bittersweet memories/feelings, childhood, reciprocity, receiving/giving love, receiving/giving gifts, comfort, familiarity, sentimentality, back when things seemed simple, healing, comfort, reliving happy memories, reconnecting with someone from the past, learning lessons, returning to comfort zone, moving back in with someone. Reversed- Stuck in the past, moving forward, leaving home, independence, clinging to past connections/lovers, hard time being present, leaving job or relationship, letting go of something that was once good.

Seven of Cups: Upright- Temporary options, illusions, fantasy, imagination, choices, searching for purpose, daydreaming, wishful thinking, indecision, now is not the time to make a long-term investment or decision based off of emotion, be cautious. Reversed- Lack of purpose, disarray, confusion, diversion, distractions, clarity, making choices, overindulgence, choosing between long-term and short-term fulfillment.

Eight of Cups: Upright- Abandoning a relationship, pulling back love and emotion to seek a more fulfilling investment, walking away, letting go, searching for truth, leaving behind something or someone, stepping outside of what's familiar, abandoment issues/fears, taking vacation, escapism, choosing happiness over financial security, disillusionment. Reversed- Refusing to walk away from something that is no longer fulfilling, avoidance, fear of change, holding on, resistance, fear of loss, fear of feeling negative emotions, stagnation, monotony, accepting less, staying in bad situation.

Nine of Cups: Upright- Contentment, self-assurance, emotional independence, wishes coming true, satisfaction, success, achievements, recognition, pleasure, appreciating love/life/family, avoid being cocky or overconfident, abundance, positivity leading to romance, enjoying the luxuries of life. Reversed- Unhappiness, ungrateful, smugness, lack of fulfilment, disappointment, underachievement, arrogance, snobbery, spoiled, unappreciative.

Ten of Cups: Upright- Happiness, homecomings, fulfillment, emotional stability, security, domestic harmony, sharing joy and abundance with others, commitment, marriage, lasting relationship, sense of belonging, fulfilling and supportive job, feeling of having enough, dreams coming true, inner happiness. Reversed- Unhappy home, separation, domestic conflict, disharmony, isolation​, shattered dreams, broken family/relationship, divorce, domestic disharmony, meddling relatives, external factors affecting love life, a short fling, adversity, arguments about money, hostile work environment, family/relationship conflicts, needing to defend oneself or relationship, face any criticism with your partner as a team.

🪄Wands: Fire Element- Aries, Leo, Sagittarius.

King of Wands: Upright- Leadership, authority, mentor, provider, action, assertive, passionate, confident, mature, energetic, intimate, sensual, perseverant, determined, disciplined, self-control, will-power, courageous, vision, bigger picture, innovative, boldness, perfectionist, focused, dominate, optimism, daring decisions, taking risks, highly capable, charismatic, high position, well respected, knowledgeable, logical, stability, generous, overcomes challenges. Reversed- Reckless, temperamental, rash, angry, controlling, jealous, insecure, possessive, physically abusive, forceful, domineering, tyrant, vicious, powerless, ineffective, weak leader, overbearing, impossible expectations, egotistical, impulsive, overindulgence, lack of self control/discipline, passive aggressive, narcissistic, energetically/physically drained, toxic and enjoys it.

Knight of Wands: Upright- Assertive, initiative, passionate, takes action very quickly, acts off impulse, charming, restless, energetic, courageous, hero complex, rebellious, hot tempered, free-spirit, fearless, erratic, flight, always moving and doing something, antsy, difficult to commit, brave, sudden influx of money, using finances for travel, expanding horizons, action, adventure. Reversed- Anger issues, controlling, insecure, prideful, egotistical, overly impulsive, immature, overindulgence, arrogant, reckless, impatient, lack of self control, passive aggressive, volatile, domineering, physically abusive, energetically/physically drained, toxic and enjoys it.

Queen of Wands: Upright- Confident, independent, optimistic, bold, attractive, passionate, energetic, self-assured, determined, social, charismatic, vivacious, uplifting, protective, supportive, openness, cheerful, inspirational, strong, courageous. Reversed- Selfish, obsessive, controlling, attachment issues, overindulgence, insecure, temperamental, lack of self-control, low self-worth, lack of confidence, jealousy, demanding, vengeful, bully, overly dominate, unmotivated, overspending, energetically/physically drained, toxic and enjoys it.

Page of Wands: Upright- Adventure, excitement, fresh ideas, cheerfulness, energetic, fearless, extroverted, lively, eagerness, temptation, exploration. Reversed- Flighty, non-committal, lack of direction, insecure, drama starter, creates conflict, hasty, impatient, lacking ideas, tantrums, laziness, boring, unreliable, distracted, interferes in other people's relationships, unenthusiastic, toxic and enjoys it.

Ace of Wands: Upright- Inspiration, creative spark, new initiative, new passion, enthusiasm, energy, attraction, follow your instincts, flirtation, excitement, will-power, drive, desire, determination, creation. Reversed- Lack of energy, lack of passion, unmotivated, unenthusiastic, boredom, short-term affair, creative block, financial loss, risky decisions, delays, blockages, obstacles, conflict, chaos, hesitancy.

Two of Wands: Upright- Planning, taking steps, innovation, making decisions, leaving comfort, taking risks, progression, moving forward, setting goals, envisioning dreams, laying the foundation, leaving home. Reversed- Fear of change, playing it safe, procrastination, bad planning, not thinking ahead, not setting long term goals, unexpected obstacles, lack of control, overanalyzing, avoiding risk.

Three of Wands: Upright- Momentum, confidence, expansion, growth, foresight, looking ahead, having a vision, creating a stable foundation/relationship, next stage in relationship, new horizons, rapid growth. Reversed- Obstacles, delays, frustration, impatience, learning to compromise, feeling caged, restriction, limitations, lack of progress.

Four of Wands: Upright- Stability, deepening relationship, marriage, family, stable foundation or relationship, community, home, celebrations, reunions, parties, gatherings, belonging, holidays, engagement, relationship going public. Reversed- Instability, broken home, lack of support, home conflicts, transience, conflicts, burdens, feeling unwelcome, lack of roots, not knowing where you fit in, insecurity.

Five of Wands: Upright- Challenges, conflicts, chaos, interference, competition, obstacles, arguments, hostility, fights, aggression, rivals, egos clashing, accept the challenge as a way to improve yourself instead of feeling malice or taking things personal, playful banter, fighting over a person. Reversed- Respecting differences, avoiding conflict, resolution, trying to keep the peace, overcoming obstacles and challenges, cooperation, truce, agreement, harmony, peace, end of conflict.

Six of Wands: Upright- Triumph, victory, success, achievement, overcoming obstacles/setbacks, rewards, recognition, praise, acclaim, pride, strength. Reversed- Setbacks, obstacles, excess pride, punishment, lack of recognition, feeling unloved, feeling neglected, failed project, being overlooked, financial loss, failed investment, bad purchase.

Seven of Wands: Upright- Protectiveness, standing up for yourself, defending yourself, protecting territory, boundaries, on guard, standing on business, fighting for love, fighting for what you believe in, facing challenges, protecting finances, maintaining control, perseverance. Reversed- Giving up, admitting defeat, no confidence, overwhelmed, drained, defensiveness, denial, a breakup from external pressure, surrender, lack of self-belief.

Eight of Wands: Upright- Sudden change, progress, change in energy, movement, speed, quick decisions, excitement, positive growth, important news, surprises, traveling, cash coming in and going out, motivation, impact. Reversed- Panic, waiting, slowing down, misunderstanding, delays, hectic pace, confusion, career stagnation, lost chances, overwhelmed, lack of patience, chaos, losing momentum, hastiness, being unprepared.

Nine of Wands: Upright- Last stand, persistence, grit, resilience, perseverance, close to success, fatigue, hard-work, love isn't easy, success isn't easy, self-improvement, temporary pressure, economic duress. Reversed- Stubbornness, rigidity, defensiveness, refusing compromise, giving up, defiance, combativeness, pushing people away, one-sided effort, struggling, exhaustion, fatigue, unsure motivation.

Ten of Wands: Upright- Overwhelmed, burdens, a lot of responsibilities, keeping a lot in, physically/energetically drained, exhaustion, needing support, duty, stress, obligation, burning out, struggling daily, large unavoidable expenses, being overworked, accomplishment after much hard work. Reversed- Can't delegate, overstressed, burnout, refusing to ask for help, finding support, relief, carrying too much, collapse, breakdown, lightening the load.

[blue-lotus333]

💕Goddesses of love💕

Aphrodite: Greek Goddess of love, beauty, sex and lust.

Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, emerged from the sea in a scallop shell and sailed to Cyprus. She possessed a magical girdle and had many lovers, including Ares and Adonis. Ares killed Adonis out of jealousy, leading to the creation of anemones. Adonis became a god split between the Underworld and Earth due to Aphrodite's love. She travels with the Three Graces and bestows joy, brilliance, and abundance upon mortals. She aids in romantic love and is associated with myrtles, roses, and anemones.

Freya: Norse Goddess of love, war, fertility and magic.

Freya, the Norse goddess of love and ruler of war and death. She mediated conflict between warring groups of Norse gods and established peace in Asgard. She is known for her beauty, sorcery, and sexuality, as well as for riding a cat-drawn golden chariot. Freya wears a falcon-feathered cloak that allows her to move quickly between heaven and Earth and has an enormous palace in Asgard where she celebrates with the souls she chooses from the battlefield. In one myth, she obtains the famous amber necklace, Brisingamen, from four dwarves by sleeping with them, beauty for beauty.

Oshun: African Goddess of love, beauty, prosperity & femininity.

Oshun is a goddess of love in the Yoruba religion. She is one of the 7 orishas and the source of power for all the other orishas. Oshun has the ability to make all things flow in the universe through her love and strength. She played a significant role in encouraging Ogun, father of civilization, to continue creating. Oshun is the only goddess who can carry messages between the mortal world and the Supreme Creator in heaven. In Nigeria, there is an annual ceremony called Ibo-Osun where women dance for Oshun during a feast of yams, with the best dancer winning Oshun's favor and becoming the village adviser on healing and fertility.

Parvati: Hindu Goddess of love, fertility, harmony and motherhood.

Parvati is a golden Hindu goddess known for love and devotion, forming a holy trinity with Saraswati and Lakshmi. She was born in the Himalayan mountains and embodies nurturing feminine energy. Parvati won over her husband, Shiva, through patience and determination in asceticism. Parvati is the creator of her son Ganesha, the elephant-headed god of wisdom. She is also worshiped for her strength and ferocity. In one legend, she transformed into the fearsome goddess Kali-ma to overcome & destroy demons who threaten the earth, showing her protective nature.

Guan yin: Buddhist Goddess of compassion, love, peace and kindness.

Guan Yin, originally a mortal princess named Miao Shan, was known for her compassion and kindness. Despite her father's cruelty, she devoted herself to helping others and performing miracles. After her death, she chose to remain in human form as a bodhisattva to help suffering beings, eventually becoming a goddess. By simply invoking her name, people can receive protection from harm. Guan Yin is often depicted in a white gown on a lotus throne and is revered by her followers as a symbol of love, compassion & purity. Her devotees often follow her vegetarian diet on her sacred days. Guan yin is not only the goddess of compassion, but the literal personification of it.

Hathor: Egyptian Goddess of fertility, love, womanhood and the sky.

Hathor, ancient Egyptian goddess of love and joy, has been revered for over 3,000 years. Known as the Gentle Cow of Heaven, she provided milk to the Sun God Ra, making him and other pharaohs divine. Hathor created the Milky Way and is often depicted wearing a crown with cow horns. She is worshipped through joyful ceremonies of music and dance and is the most beloved goddess in ancient Egyptian belief. Hathor is also the goddess of the Underworld, protector of females, and champion of romantic bonds. She can appear in different forms and her symbols are the sistrum and hand mirror.

Laka: Hawaiian Goddess of love, wilderness, the hula & music.

Laka is a Polynesian goddess of love and wilderness who taught humans the art of the hula dance. She is married to the fertility god Lono, and rain is considered a sacred time for them. Dancers in training build altars to Laka with her favorite flowers and plants, and offerings are taken down to the ocean after performances to thank her for her blessing. She is a Goddess who rules over all vegetation. Plants sacred to her are: maile, Lama, hala pepe, `ie`ie, ki, `ôhia lehua, `ôhelo, and palai.

Aine: Irish Goddess of the summer, love, wealth and light.

Áine is a powerful and loving fairy queen in Irish legend, associated with agriculture, animals, and light. She is celebrated at the Midsummer Festival in Limerick, where people run up her hill to seek her blessing. She is also a survivor of sexual abuse in legends, where she shows strength and guides women to empowerment. Áine is depicted with red hair, a headband of stars, and surrounded by her animals. She can transform into a red mare who is unbeatable in speed.

Xochiquetzal: Aztec Goddess of fertility, beauty, flowers and love.

Xochiquetzal was a powerful and complex Aztec goddess known for her beauty and seductive nature. She was worshipped as a patroness of lovers and prostitutes, encouraging love-making for pleasure rather than reproduction. Despite her associations with sexual relationships, she also had the ability to absolve humans of sins unrelated to sex. She was married to the water god, Tlaloc, and was considered a consort to the creator deity, Tezcatlipoca. Xochiquetzal was widely worshipped and honored through great rituals that included acts of sacrifice and confessions.

Ishtar: Mesopotamian Goddess of love, war, fertility and power.

One of the oldest goddesses in the world, Ishtar, the goddess of war and sexual love, was the queen of heaven. Ishtar is considered a member of the special class of Mesopotamian gods called the Anunnaki. Ishtar is often called Inanna, she is also an astral deity, linked to the planet Venus, and was worshipped widely in the ancient Middle East. She was known as the Queen of the Universe and had powers attributed to various other gods. Ishtar was the very first goddess of love, Mesopotamians described her in her many legends and poems as young and strikingly beautiful, with piercing, penetrating eyes.

[kasssscali]

This question is for The Monkey king (Netflix). This has been going through my mind lately, how would Monkey king react to being hugged for the first time by s/o?

Monkey knows what a hug is, but he doesn’t have much experience with affection

In the movie we see him as an infant getting rejected by nearly everyone when he tried to hug them

you guys have been dating for a while, and you’ve been weirded out how he hasn’t hugged you at all

yeah he kisses you, and holds your hand but he never has hugged you since you guys were official

it’s because he’s afraid of rejection, being rejected in the past for his affections have had some permanent scars that he won’t let heal

he simply can’t let go of the past

it’s a bold move for you to hug him out of nowhere

Monkey and you have been dating since him and the Monk stopped by your village with his disciples

He’s still on the Journey to deliver sacred scriptures and you guys had to depart for a while

it hurts Monkey the most out of the both of you, he doesn’t talk to the Monk about this type of stuff

he doesn’t feel like he can talk to any other of the disciples too, especially Pigsy

if he did try to talk to Pigsy about this, high chances Pigsy might make some sexual remark about you which would definitely piss Monkey off

it’s been months since you guys seen each other, Tripitaka finally makes Monkey talk because the entire time he’s been sulking since he left you

the Monk is a pretty decent guy and grants Monkey permission to see you again

Monkey flies back to your village on his trusty stick looking for you

Finally seeing Monkey after so long, made your heart leap with excitement, without even thinking you run to him at full speed and wraps your arms around him with an embrace

Monkey is strong enough to hold his ground, he laughs “Looks like someone missed me~”

you really did, and Monkey finally embraces you back, wrapping his tail around your waist tightly

this was the first time he ever received a hug from someone back

[the-moon-devi]

Spiritual, Nurturing & Caring Aspects || Synastry Observations PT.1

•♀ ☯ ☆ . ♀ ☯ ° .• °:. *₊° .☆♀ ☯ . • ☆ . ° .• °:♀ ☯ . *₊° .☆.♀ ☯ • ☆

☆ . ° .• °:♀ ☯ . *₊° .☆ . •♀ ☯ ☆ . ° ♀ ☯ .• °:. *₊° .☆. • ☆°•☆ ♀ ☯

Hey guys!! Today we have a synastry aspect post! I just so happen to be looking at my synastry charts. I took notice to asteroids in particular & things started to make sense. These are some aspects that I noticed in my own and others synastry charts. I hope you guys enjoy! I worked on this for damn near a month so pleassssse enjoy🥰💋

pick a song or listen to the whole playlist. Listen to this as you read (it's a vibe 🎶)

Pof - neptune~ may create spiritual connections everytime you & this person come in contact you may have spiritual experiences & gain insight. With the house this can show more how this plays out.

Ex: ( I'm Neptune person with this person and my Neptune is in 7th house and their pof is in 12th house!! This explain alot to me because everytime we come in contact with one another we talk about spiritual topics. I had dreams about them and a they held a large meaning & are prophetic. They have also said they have had dreams about me. This is just a small bit of what this placement is like. But you guys could really enjoy doing creative & poetic things with each other. I also want to add once I met this person I became a lot more spiritual. This is sextile @ 0°

Pof just expands everything similar to Jupiter & pof person brings you luck & inclines you to be more lucky in that area.

ceres - chiron: ceres- Chiron shows that the Chiron person is wounded in some way and needs nurturing from ceres. This aspects allows both parties to open up and heal and nurture each other intensely. For harsher aspects this pair may fight the healing, while soft aspects welcome this healing in with ease. This is the type of relationship where you were meant to meet each other to heal. This can be very triggering but so nurturing. Chiron will feel like Ceres is very understanding. This nurturing is usually mutual. Healing each others wounds and caring about the other deeply.

Juno-jupiter -loyalty loyalty loyalty; Juno Jupiter aspects show how this couples inclines each other to want to commit. They have a deep trust and bond. This is the placement that'll have you saying, " I could see you and me settling down together" This person meets your needs when it comes to long term commitments. This is an indication of love at first sight. The moment you locked eyes you knew that they would be significant in your life. This is an effortless aspect beacuse of the history between juno and jupiter. Jupiter brings out the desire for marriage within juno. Amazing for long term relationships.

Vesta- asc- commitment & Devotion to asc person. Vesta wants to devote themselves to asc person. Asc sees Vesta as very sacred & devoted. Sacred commitment to one another. This can also indicate some level of a sacred spiritual connection.

Eros-moon: eros feels turned on when moon is vulnerable & vice versa. There may be a lot of passion when it comes to emotions they nurture each other. Moon feels eros sexual needs and intuitvely knows how to fulfill them.

Eros-chiron; healing through eroticism you both feel comfortable with each other & expressing needs eros can be healing towards chiron & inspire them to open up more & heal.

Ceres ⚳ conjunct Asc-very nurturing placement. Asc person will feel very taken care of around Ceres may even view them as motherly. Asc person will learn to soften up due to their love for Ceres ⚳

Ceres ☌ Moon- emotional nourishment, the two come together and make a beautiful, serene environment for one another. You find cherishing & security with one another. Cooking for each other & doing household chores together are fun for this pair.

Juno ☌ Moon- Deep emotional bond & you feel commitment for each other intensely

Valentine ☌ saturn- personally i feel like this shows loving a person for a long time and even through hardships. The couple could also be very slow to showing love to each other but deep down there's so much love!

Link -Moon : I would say for positive aspects, both partners will feel very connected to each other due to their emotions. Emotions could definitely be mutual as well.

Sun- Akasha: can show you two have a soul contract that has to be fulfilled. Karmic connection indicator and you two were meant to meet in this lifetime to teach each other how to express yourself & be you.

Nostalgia-moon: a emotion of familiarity & comfort. You feel a surreal presence when your around them

Nostalgia-jupiter: may talk about spiritual topics and prone to getting glimpses of past lifes. a huge sense of familiarity. Could have a very healing inner child energy when they are around each other. Also may have known each other for a very long time.

Asteroids: Valentine (447); Link (3550); Akasha (5881); Nostalgia (3162); Ceres; (1); Juno (3); Vesta (4); Eros (433)

• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆ . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆. • ☆ . °• ☆ . ° .• °*₊° .☆ .

Thanks for reading to the end! Leave your commentary down below! I love hearing from yall! Catch ya later lovelies.... Til' next time!

~𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓵 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼 xx🤎💋

𝓕𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓵

✌𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓬𝓴 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓸𝓾𝓽!✌

𝓓𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓓𝓮'𝓛𝓾𝔁𝔁𝓮 (masterlist)

©𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓵 (Do not copy or steal my work)

[hot-astrology]

The Shunned Yoni

We all know creation and birth stems from somewhere. From the most sacred gateways that nature created The womb vagina or ; the female genitalia which symbolizes generative power. The woman is delicate, graceful and loving at same time, forceful, impactful, insightful, and a creator. How can we call this realm mother earth and not think women were here first or the creators only a true creator could create and be humble while their creation becomes egotistical while claiming to be the original archetype From their mesmerizing eyes calming vice diplomatic minds soft touch hypnotic walk and seductive aura. From the spiritual abyss, every angle, precise detail was made to flow with the oceans waves, their calming nature can settle the storms, or be fierce as the storm. So much history and powers lays beneath these ripples in the sea. As the tear drops of sorrow and betrayal fall upon the blueish lake. Shunned no more, openish enters the heart, truth reveals the veil, expressiveness leads way, acceptance is here to stay.

As an active plot to pacify her & her waters, her descendants, her priestesses, her daughters, her initiates, her love, but most disrespectfully her waters. She was made as an extension, and as the image of god. She started in darkness, she is the water they poisoned. Look inside, and you'll see that you are purely her mirror, because you are her. She was demonized, and in the end turned against. Hell hath no fury like a black woman scorned.

The deepest part in you resides, this is the sacrum area. You hold future generations and civilizations within you yet they seek to destroy and disrespect you. Let there be no mistake, that you are the force and the life way past than what science can understand or comprehend. Do you remember? Do you remember your throne, and those you taught. In the end, they turned against you. Used your teachings for their new world, and white washed yours away just for a seat on your throne. There's a part of you that lays deep in the water waiting to be awakened and take back what's hers. They took the seed of life and realized they could not imitate because they did not have it within them. There will be a storm that awakens that seed, she is abrupt and comes like nothing you've ever seen before. Deep Down, we as women have been taught to hide our sexuality or that it was a bad thing. However, these days feminine sexuality has been more accepted, and broadcasted for everyone to see. In a way, this is good but also bad, because the sacredness of this has been corrupted and the true meaning is lost in ignorance.

In the womb, we grow, and develop in water for up to 10 months. Our bodies are mostly water, and the planet we live on resembles this. All Life must be formed through liquid, it is the most fertile, and feminine. Think of a plant without water, and sun, but water especially nothing will sprout. Whether it be alchemy, or astrology, the most feminine elements will be water, and earth. water is the 1st element, signifying its power. water can heal, and destroy you. The yoni is simply a portal, entering into a sea of memory, and mysteries. When we look into the mystery of outer space, galaxies, stars, plane-ts, and black holes. Then you begin to look within yourself, your own body, you see the sayings, "As above, so below" " As within, so without", and the most telling " Your body is a temple". You see the answer manifest, and replicate inside of you.

The power of the yoni, is nothing to be taken lightly, and is actually a symbol of life and death. If all women collectively agreed to stop reproducing, that would simply be the end. For this reason, there has been a demonization placed upon women whether that be our bodies, hair, features, etc.

There is such a huge attack on the water spirits right now. Looking back to the astrological take on this matter, the sign pisces is the last and final sign of the zodiac. This is a water sign. In christianity, the symbol "Vesica Pisces" is a very prominent symbol representing Jesus Christ who "walked on water." Ironically, this symbol represents a fish, and the pisces symbol is a fish. If you look closer at the shape of this symbol, you'll realize this looks similar to the vaginal canal. Pisces is known to be the yin most, and the darkness which the creator resides in. In sacred geometry, there is the flower of life and seed of life, both using the symbol vesica pisces within those shapes. Within all of this, we begin the covering up of our primordial origins, within christianity, and many modern-day religions. the presence of priestesses, goddesses, empresses, and queens have been stripped and burned away. We know by now that the source of creativity, love, and rhythm comes from depths of the darkest waters, which pure yin. So what does that say about the bible or the said authors. let alone, the books, and the most important teachings that have been taken out of the bible, and also many others. This wasn't the only crime, but while erasing her presence, they tried to take away your magic, your creativity, and use your sexuality (which is your ability to manifest, and create) for their gain. As I ponder upon this, I am compelled to question: How many chapters of HIStory are indeed tales of men, or could they be the untold stories of women masked in masculine guise...

To close this out, let your mystical minds wander.... Think about how, in Christianity, to get baptized, you are laid into the waters to be reborn or cleansed from sin. Or, how a woman's water breaks signifying life & birth, or how you couldn't survive without water for more than 2 days.... Things like these make you wonder....

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭

𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔: 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐳 || 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢

[dharmafox]

Apropos of recent discussion around whether or not the Medicine Seller fucks, I do see him as very much a sexual being, and I think that part of his nature is significant. I think he embodies sexuality as a primal, generative unity of masculine and feminine, in keeping with the philosophy of yin and yang. He represents sexuality as something sacred - hence maybe the paradoxical impression that he's both highly sexual and also untouchable.

I also think his sexuality relates to the mind-body connection, which is important in Eastern medicine: the idea that the relationship with the body is connected to the relationship with the mind. (This relationship is why physical grounding, usually through focus on the breath, is important in meditation practice: it's as much about reconnecting with the body as it is about reconnecting with the mind.)

The Medicine Seller's work is with the mind, but in Mononoke the body is also a central theme. Especially important in every arc is the way women's bodies are treated. Mononoke explores a world where women's bodies are abused and exploited and their wishes and desires are denied. Their negative experiences of sexuality and with their own bodies are what create all of the mononoke - manifestations of their mental and emotional pain. The zashiki warashi are created by their mothers' pain; the umi bozu is created by Genkei's denial of Oyo; the nopperabou is created by the repression of Ochou's desires; the nue is created from the body of a woman men treated as an object; and both bakeneko arise from extreme violence done to Tamaki and to Setsuko.

Especially for women, I think the Medicine Seller's influence facilitates a healing of their connection to the body and to sexuality. He presents a concept of sexuality that women can experience as positive and that's as much about their desires as it is about men's, and he also presents an image of the feminine as something beautiful and deserving of respect. His presence becomes a grounding force that draws injured women back into contact with their physical experiences along with their mental ones - allowing them to heal their relationships with their bodies by confronting their physical trauma at the same time as it allows them to heal their relationships with their minds by confronting their mental trauma. Both are needed for complete healing, or for exorcism of the mononoke, since they're equally significant aspects of the Form, Truth, and Regret.

[tenebrisdivina]

Godspousery: A Different type of Relationship

This begins my series of posts on Godspousery

Art: by art of yayu

After receiving permission from my deities; I have been guided to share some of my experience with spousery as it may be of help or interest to some, since there is a lot of confusion and misconceptions around what this path actually is and means.

To preface this: I am more traditional and old school meaning that godspousery to my eyes is only marriage to the divine. I have been married to both my spouses ( who are demonic divine dark lords) for 6 years (at point of this writing) and have worked closely with various divine beings and spirits for close to 16 years now.

I have noticed in more recent times that some people misconstrue the term godspouse to mean just about any and all types of relationships with the divine. In my experience this is not the case. It is not a term that covers all types of relationships ( ie familial, platonic, devotional etc). Nor should it be used as a catch all phrase as there is a distinct difference between these types of relationships. Genuine godspousery is not the same as a platonic or other relationship with the divine. Nor is it a stand in for any form of romantic or sexual relationship with the divine.  The term spouse is used for a reason ( ie married to the divine). I am also of the viewpoint that devotional polytheism and devotee ought to be used more often to refer to these other types of relationships instead of lumping it all together under one term.

Godspousery is a sacred path and practice. It is not something to be taken lightly nor for the human egoic wants and needs, since its really not about you or your ego. I have the experience of having a patron, having normal devotional and/or working relationships with gods, spirits and Demonic divine as well as being espoused. All of these types of relationships are different; though most often share an element of devotion and being a devotee and some are more heavily focused on this then others- such as patronage. While godspousery and patronage both have heavy elements of devotion to them, one of the key differences I have found is that my spouses are connected to me on a much deeper level, soul level- then just normal devotion. They know me ( the entirety of my being) in ways few others do. How we connect on this deep level is rather like puzzle pieces fitting together- but in a way in which each of use is whole in and of ourselves (still learning to be on my part; though it is encouraged)- however there is a sense of joining and completeness to this relationship. Of balance between us all so that we may build and prosper together. It feels like home. Of course there is love as well- but this more complex than what humans often consider love to be. Especially with such darker beings as I am bound with. The Demonic divines’ ( and deities’ ) understanding of what love is reaches far beyond what humans know it as. And often it may not look like anything humans are familiar with. There is also a lot of trust and learning to trust my spouses in this and on my personal path. There is a depth of presence and feeling of being held in a sense but  rather across all aspects of myself and in all realms, that comes with this perhaps particularly to my dynamic at least.

 On this- a side note; there is no room in godspousery especially at this depth of relationship, for co-dependence or toxic/problematic attachment styles  or relationship patterns etc. If one genuinely connects with a god/god-level being on this level and one still has these problematic traits; they are soon worked through so that a healthier type of relationship between the parties is formed and possible. One thing about this is that a genuine deity/ god-level being- will not tolerate, enable or conform to ones insecurities or problematic/toxic attachment styles and relationship patterns. They can help one to move and heal into a healthier place, but they will not interact with you in a way that enables these styles to continue- especially in a such a depth of relationship. While the deities and beings in question may be “understanding” of this is a way- they do not enable it.

One of the main differences I have found between Patronage and Spousery- is that while my Patron knows me well as well and knows my soul so to speak- it is a less intimate dynamic in a sense. He knows me well and guides me as a close mentor, cares about me specifically and guides my path, but there is more of an overarching kind of strategy to it. Not to say that my Spouses don’t also have this, but it is a bit more calculating and for me patronage, is more focused on guiding me rather than the intimate relationship that Spousery affords. My Husbands feel closer to my heart and more deeply “internally” connected- They nourish my soul and They are a place of rest. While my Patron can also nourish me it is not to the depth of how my Husbands do so. ((sometimes for some godspouses; a patron may be the Spouse, but this is the difference I have noted between Them in my situation.)

Godspousery is also different from parental relationship with deities. Parental relationships (which I experienced while being a devotee of Setekh and Kali ma) feel very- well parental. While I was deeply devoted to them, regular worship, bhakti etc, It was more casual in a way. I could connect about anything and they would offer advice or aid. Tbh it was impactful and healing but it was not this soul level depth that my Spouses have. While I called Setekh and Kali Ma my patrons and for a while they were- it is still a different relationship from my actual patronage with Lord Abaddon. In all cases I felt cared about by these divine beings and have been intimate with them. But with the more “parental deities” it wasn’t so personal, so deep reaching and was more similar to a “regular” devotee relationship with a deity. My spouses are also obviously a lot more intimate with me and also know me with a depth that the others “don’t”. All of these relationships have been and are very valuable and meaningful to my journey and path. But being espoused- my Partners also have more impact on me then anyone else.

All these types of relationships mentioned are again different from regular devotee and/or working with the other deities and demonic divine beings, and all are impactful in their own ways. Regular devotion and “working with” is often more “business-like.” Some beings I work with may be stricter on how They are to be approached and worked with, and some may over time become more like casual acquaintances and friendly. But there is still a distance to it- even if some of these practices involve sexual relations/exchange, it is more “professional.” These beings also know I am owned by and married to my Husbands, so there can be also a reservedness to the interactions. ( I use the term owned because I am- in a BDSM sense I am in a heavy M/s relationship with my Husbands, this is personal but also aids in my specific workings, priestessing and dynamic- obviously this is not the case for all godspouses etc).

[talonabraxas]

12 Chakra System

Understanding Your Root Chakra

The Root Chakra is located at the base of the spine and is connected to our sense of security, stability and grounding. When the Root Chakra is balanced, we feel secure and connected to the Earth. We can trust our intuition and move forward with confidence. When the Root Chakra is unbalanced, we may feel anxious, fearful and disconnected. Practices such as grounding, meditation and yoga can help to balance the Root Chakra.

Understanding Your Sacral Chakra

The Sacral Chakra is located in the lower abdomen and is connected to our creativity, sexuality and pleasure. When the Sacral Chakra is balanced, we feel confident and creative. We are able to express ourselves freely and to explore our sexuality. When the Sacral Chakra is unbalanced, we may feel stuck, blocked or disconnected. Practices such as creative expression, dance, and sensual massage can help to balance the Sacral Chakra.

Understanding Your Solar Plexus Chakra

The Solar Plexus Chakra is located just below the diaphragm and is connected to our personal power, self-esteem and ambition. When the Solar Plexus Chakra is balanced, we feel empowered, courageous and confident. When the Solar Plexus Chakra is unbalanced, we may feel powerless, anxious and overwhelmed. Practices such as affirmations, visualization and breathwork can help to balance the Solar Plexus Chakra.

Understanding Your Heart Chakra

The Heart Chakra is located in the center of the chest and is connected to our ability to love, compassion and connection. When the Heart Chakra is balanced, we feel open, loving and compassionate. When the Heart Chakra is unbalanced, we may feel disconnected, closed off or resentful. Practices such as self-love, forgiveness and gratitude can help to balance the Heart Chakra.

The heart rules emotional healing, and love of self and others, as well as overseeing your appreciation of beauty, and your willingness for compassion. The heart is a sacred portal, which when open allows you to access the gifts of your higher energetic centers, and in and of itself is the doorway to the realms of angels and Divine love.

Understanding Your Throat Chakra

The Throat Chakra is located in the throat and is connected to our communication, truth and creativity. When the Throat Chakra is balanced, we feel confident and creative. We are able to express ourselves clearly and truthfully. When the Throat Chakra is unbalanced, we may feel blocked, quiet or uncertain. Practices such as writing, singing and speaking can help to balance the Throat Chakra.

Understanding Your Third Eye Chakra

The Third Eye Chakra is located between the eyebrows and is connected to our intuition and inner wisdom. When the Third Eye Chakra is balanced, we feel connected to our intuition and inner guidance. We are able to trust our instincts and make decisions with clarity and confidence. When the Third Eye Chakra is unbalanced, we may feel confused, uninspired or disconnected. Practices such as meditation, journaling and dream work can help to balance the Third Eye Chakra.

Your Third Eye chakra also plays a role in your feeling, sensing, and hearing ability. This chakra also connects your energies beyond the physical.

Your Third Eye chakra regulates the decisions you make, and what you consider to be important. It oversees your dreamtime, and connects you with the subconscious mind and with the higher realms of Spirit. Learning, memory, telepathy, clairvoyance, mediumship, aura sensing, are all ruled by the Third Eye chakra.

Understanding Your Crown Chakra

Your Crown Chakra connects you to the higher spiritual realms. It rules your dreams, visions, hopes, and Divine realizations. Spiritual downloads, connection to Spirit, and alignment with your higher purpose are all possible through an awakened and balanced Crown Chakra.

When your Crown chakra is open and you are linked to the infinite light of the Divine above, anything is possible in your life, including the fruition of your dreams, a true connection with Spirit, and even enlightenment.

Understanding Your Causal Chakra

The Causal Chakra is located just above the Soul Star and is connected to our connection to the past, present and future. The Causal chakra is located 3 to 4 inches behind the center of the back of the head. When it’s above the Crown it’s governed by Archangel Christiel and twin flame Malory, and this chakra is white and has feminine qualities of love, compassion, purity, and intuition.

When the Causal Chakra is balanced, we feel connected to the flow of life and to our inner truth. We are able to see the bigger picture and to trust that we are exactly where we need to be. When the Causal Chakra is unbalanced, we may feel stuck, uncertain or overwhelmed. Practices such as visioning, journaling and releasing can help to balance the Causal Chakra.

Understanding Your Soul Star Chakra

The Soul Star Chakra is located just above the crown and is connected to our spiritual gifts and higher purpose.

When activated, Divine light is able to flow through this energetic center to access higher consciousness. Here Divine love can be truly felt and experienced, and awareness of your power as a Divine soul and spiritual being is recognized.

When open, Divine light flows up through this chakra, connecting you to the infinite power of the Divine light above before flowing back down to your entire being to replenish, empower, and enlighten, before flowing once again.

In many senses, your Soul Star chakra could be called your chalice of soul energy as the full essence and power of your accumulated soul experiences are available here. Want to access the Akashic records? This too is possible from within your Soul Star chakra as is total soul realization.

When the Soul Star Chakra is balanced, we feel connected to our passions and gifts. We are able to access our innate power and to use it to create a life of purpose and joy. When the Soul Star Chakra is unbalanced, we may feel disconnected, uninspired or unclear. Practices such as visualization, intention setting and energy healing can help to balance the Soul Star Chakra.

Understanding Your Divine Gateway Chakra

The Divine Gateway Chakra is located just above the Soul Star and is connected to our connection to the divine and our connection to the greater universe.

With your Divine Gateway chakra activated, your Divine essence is intact. This chakra center is the Divine light portal allowing you complete connection to Divine Source, and offering an open doorway to explore other worlds and realms.

Here, full ascension, advanced spiritual skills, complete oneness with Divinity and full connection to the cosmos, other worlds, and beyond is realized.

Here you enter the Super Galactic Realms, access the Divine Mother, and the Womb of the entire universe.

Activating this chakra allows you to access the Goddess Light, become one with the Mother, and become a star gate yourself enabling peace, balance, and ascension to enter into humanity through you.

All the rays of the Divine, and all the qualities of the Divine represented by the higher vibrational beings align with you here.

Activate this chakra, and allow all the blessings to then flow back down. Divine light pouring down through your higher chakras, in through your Soul Star and down your spinal column, through your Earth Star chakra, and directly connecting to the light at the core of the Earth before flowing up in an unending loop of Divine awakening, presence, growth, and advancement once again.

When the Divine Gateway Chakra is balanced, we feel connected to the divine and to the greater universal energy. We are able to access our higher consciousness and to use it to create a life of peace and joy. When the Divine Gateway Chakra is unbalanced, we may feel blocked, disconnected or confused. Practices such as meditation, prayer and gratitude can help to balance the Divine Gateway Chakra.

Understanding the Earth Star Chakra

As a physical being on Earth, you have a unique connection with the Ascending Earth, and to All That Is.

Your Earth Star Chakra is your personal link to the Earth’s life force, to the crystalline grid, and to the Divine light contained within the Earth.

The development of this chakra is carefully monitored by Archangel Sandalphon. As your soul progresses through the primary ascension stage, your Earth Star chakra expands in size and power.

Its role is to guide you to the location allocated for your mission.

When you are born, your 5th dimensional chakra blueprint is programmed with the content of the life mission for your master self. Your Earth Star chakra knows exactly where you are supposed to be on the planet.

Using the 12 Chakra System for Personal Transformation and Growth

By working with the 12 chakra system, we can gain insight into our individual energetic make-up and how it is affecting our lives. We can also use the 12-chakra system as a tool for personal transformation and growth. By activating and balancing the chakras, we can begin to access our true potential and to cultivate inner peace and balance. We can also use the 12 chakra system to gain insight into our life purpose, and to make positive changes in our lives. By understanding and working with the 12 chakras, we can unlock our true potential and create a life of joy and fulfillment.

The Divine Gateway by Talon Abraxas

[madamlaydebug]

**Healing and Growth:** In some spiritual traditions, sexuality is seen as a means for healing, transformation, and personal growth. Through practices such as tantra or sacred sexuality, individuals may explore their sexuality as a path to spiritual enlightenment and self-awareness.

[eternal-echoes]

“A woman's heart is inseparable from her womb. When she bears life through pregnancy, she forms an indescribable bond with her child. Through the gift of sexuality, a wife becomes one flesh with her husband. The womb is meant for life and for love. Her body is a sacred place, because it is within the woman that the marriage is consummated and human life is created. Because of its sacred purpose, it demands tremendous reverence.

However, when a woman's sexuality is desecrated, the wound is especially deep.

…

When a woman suffers sexual abuse, her abuser sends her a vivid message that she does not deserve to be loved, cherished, or protected. If she does not seek help in dealing with the abuse, she may begin to integrate this message into her soul. Her life will soon begin to reflect the belief that she does not expect to be loved. She may begin to give away her body to men who are as lustful as the man who abused her. But this time, she consents and even initiates such encounters. One wound is buried under another. She thinks she has discovered a way to prevent being hurt by guys. Her body may be available to them, but her heart is locked up and she gives it to no one. She won't let anyone hurt her —because she's too busy hurting herself.

The victim asks herself in silence, "Who would want me now?" What she does not realize is that the kind of guy she really wants —a respectful and loving gentleman—would not love her any less because of the abuse she has suffered. If anything, he would want to love her more, to make up for what she has suffered. Do not think that you are worthless or worth less because of the past. No matter what has happened, you still have yourself to give.

After a woman has suffered sexual abuse, it's best for her to take a time of healing for herself before she enters a new relationship. If she doesn't take the time to be made whole, she might begin using relationships to soothe her pain. In a sense, she's attempting to fill a container that's been broken. As a result, she'll wonder why she feels so empty after trying so hard to be filled.”

-Jason and Crystalina Evert, How to Find Your Soulmate Without Losing Your Soul

[esotericfaery]

Advanced Asteroids in Astrology

For nuance in your chart, check your asteroids. Pay special attention to the

For nuance in your chart, check your asteroids. Pay special attention to the ones which are at the same degree as your planets. They will be more prominent than those which are most popular; Juno, Vesta, Ceres & Pallas. Also, those in your first house will speak specifically of your core identity.

To do your asteroids, go to astro.com and under extended charts, enter your birthdate. At the bottom, in the box on the right, you can enter the numbers associated with the asteroids you want to look for.

Lists of many asteroids are at

&

~

Following are a few examples from my chart.

~

Sun in exact stellium with asteroids Atlantis, Alma & Aegina = Deeply spiritual inner knowingness along with balanced ego power, as regards ancient civilization, ET's, new age groups, psychic abilities, abuse of tech., interest in Astrology, occult knowledge, etc. Prosperity in mediation. Highly protected.

This is a big one for me as it involves my Virgo Sun, and is in my 6th house of overall health and everyday routines. I tend to easily see through new age scams and cults, and without letting my ego get in the way, I'm able to help others heal from their harmful belief systems.

~~

Here's a deeply personal, strong one - Mercury, Saturn, Descendant & Vertex in exact stellium with asteroid Innanen = Restrictions within communications involving intense feminine powers of love, beauty and sexuality.

I have this in Virgo, within my main stellium (involving Sun & Moon) in the 6th house of health & the everyday, and as it's anaretic, it also has the energy of the 7th house of one on one interactions. This difficulty in communicating and mens fear of my energy has formed a common pattern in my romances. It's a big reason for why I'm now celibate.

~~

Asteroid Kleopatra conjunct Ascendant = How we project to the world our (mostly physical energy) through charisma, strength & authority, causing us to struggle to identify our flaws. Sometimes, as with everything in Astrology, this is energy which is projected towards us.

I have this exact to the degree, in Pisces, the sign of truth vs. Illusion. This is anaretic, meaning that it is essentially in both the 1st and 12th houses; a mix of the core selfhood with mystery & esotericism.

~~

Mars conjunct centaur Hidalgo = Assertive ideologies. Defending beliefs. Revolution. High principals. Highly energetic, constructive manifesting. Ambition. Domination. Defense.

I have this exact to the degree in transformative Scorpio and it explains a lot about how my Mars works. I've never identified much with the over-sexualization of Scorpio Mars which is propagated in pop Astrology.

~~

Asteroid stellium - Eris / Anteros / Phocaea = Sacred “marriage” between self and Source leads to divine intervention through chaos reorganized into loves longing returned, and influenced towards preservation.

I have this exact to the degree, in Aries, in its native first house. This makes it an important aspect, as Aries / the first house represent the the core selfhood. I don’t have any of the planets in my first house, and so in some situations, the aspecting asteroids there will have equal to greater importance than my planets.

~~

I include this one as I find that people underestimate the importance of the Galactic Center.

Galactic Center conjunct asteroid Leda = Abundant, delightful connection with divine consciousness. Luck in trauma release to make way for new path.

I have this exact in adventurous, happy-go-lucky Sagittarius in the 9th house of higher learning. It explains well my experiences with energy healing.

[fluffyfantasticducky]

Special Care

☆ Pairing: TVA!Loki x Reader

☆ Synopsis: After all that's been going on, the TVA not only hires Loki, but gives him a break, clear his mind and clean his wounds. And someone very interesting is gonna help him out with that.

☆ Word Count: 4,297

☆ Notes: Based on my comfort show, this takes place immediately after episode 1, and way before episode 2, there's a huge time lapse between each that I wish had been more exploited. So at Thanos said "fine, I'll do it myself" and indulge myself in the process..

☆ Warnings: Loki's shirt and jumpsuit (he's in the prisoner outfit) is open, so a soon-to-be sexual tension if I eventually make more of this? But I don't really like stranger to lovers so... not yet, no.

It had been a very interesting day, days? His invasion to the Earth had been foiled and he was just about to be taken for what seemed to be a likely execution in Asgard when the Tesseract landed on his feet and what seemed to be a perfect escape ended up in a whole new world of trouble.

Sacred-Timelines, Variants, a Time Police, Space Lizard Gods that decided the flow of time, no magic, his entire life being a failure, him being destined to die by Thanos hands had just been the opener. And another variant of him going after them making Loki their best shot at catching him... Norns, give him a break.

“Alright Loki” Mobius patted him on the back, “Go get yourself patched up, we’ll start in the morning.”

“The morning?” Loki asked unsure, “There are mornings here?”

Mobius just laughed.

“It’s figurative speech, look, I’ll take you to the doc’s Office myself” he mocked him, “I don’t want the entire department pitying you. You look awful.”

Loki just groaned as he followed him around the TVA facilities, as Mobius explained further how things worked. But by the time they arrived Loki realized how sore he really felt, all the adrenaline of the day’s event died down, making him realize how sore he was.

“Good luck in there” Mobius teased, “I’ll see if I stop by with a get-well balloon or something.”

And he left the god to his luck. Right in front of a door with a sleeping face. Loki simply scoffed and knocked on the door before opening. And he had to admit that the sight was quite welcoming.

The room was pleasantly warm and illuminated in calid light, and warmly decorated, with a big red couch and two matching red cushioned footstools, a shiny wooden table with a bowl of candy, a water dispenser and cups with a handmade paper sign that said: «make yourself at home 😊». And a desk in one of the corners, that had a cabinet full of what seemed to be medicaments, bandages, and ointments. It almost didn’t look like a place of healing, but then again, nothing in this place made sense.

Loki sat on the couch, resting his feet on the footstool and the ambience of the place added up to his soreness made evident how exhausted he truly was. As much as he wanted to keep his guard up, he started to doze off.

He didn’t know how he was asleep when he was woken up by the sound of the door clicking open. He sat up straight with his feet on the floor as a figured stepped in the room wearing a black outfit and a white lab coat with the TVA logo on the sewn in the chest pocket and holding a folder of papers.

“Okay Mobius what did you need me to— O-Oh… you’re…” you muttered, “you’re the Loki variant everyone’s talking about.”

“How long was I out?” Loki asked, “Who are you? What are you gonna do to me?”

“Ah… I don’t know. 5, maybe 15 minutes? Sorry I kept you waiting, Mobius dropped you in the middle of my break” you apologized, looking through the documents. “So, I take it, you are who needed help...? Mobius said I was needed here.”

“Of course, he did” he huffed.

“Well, yeah… Although I assumed one of the Minute-Men needed help” you said politely. “But I can help you if there’s something you need from me.”

“You could take me to the Time-Keepers, that’d pull a smile on my face” Loki snarled.

“I would if I could, but I’m not high-ranked to see them myself…” you apologized politely. “Now, I’d normally say take a seat, but I see you already did so just, make yourself comfortable again.”

Loki didn’t move, his body still tense as he remained wary of your presence. You simply sat on the free footstool looking at him with patience.

“Okay, I uh… I’m ashamed to admit I checked your file to try finding where you could you be injured,” you admitted, “but I think it’s better just asking so… does it hurt anywhere?”

Loki just chuckled ironically.

“No need for your pity.”

“Pity?” you chuckled, “Loki, it’s my job to care for others, that’s the TVA’s mission! If you want to get rid of me just help me help you and you’ll never have to deal with me again…”

Knowing that there was no point fighting he just sighed in defeat as he leaned back on the couch.

“Were doesn’t it hurt?” he joked.

“Right, your variance is after New York, it took you weeks to fully recover, twisted ankle, several cuts and big bruises all over, occasional broken ribs, I’m impressed you managed to wreak havoc in this state.” You explained, “But this… this is I have never seen.”

You reached to touch the bruise on his cheek, brushing lightly against his cheekbone.

“Ow! Stop that!” Loki protested at the touch. “This is not from New York! Your associate smacked me across the face when you stole me from the Timeline!”

“B-15 did this to you?!” you gasped in horror, “Oh she’s so gonna hear it from me when I see her! Look at this bruise!”

“I’m not sure what you expect from a punch that lasts half a minute” Loki protested.

“She slow-mo-ed you?” you smiled nervously, but his cold expression made it evident he had not found it half as amusing as you did. “Ahem, sorry.”

You stood up and walked to the cabinet and grabbed a couple of items, bandages, gauze, and a couple of bottles. And you returned to sit by his side, to make look at his face.

“Hold on a second, did you say occasional broken ribs? How does that work? Shouldn’t all wounds be the same?”

“Well… yes, and no…” you explained, “The body can react differently to the same kind of injury, like sometimes tripping down the stairs can bruise you, sometimes it won’t, creating minor variances, but not always enough to create a branch line, as long as they need keep with the flow of time. Unless the wound has a consequence, it’s not a variance, and you were locked up for a while to heal after this. And Asgardians are particularly resistant and heal on their own quite fast—”

“Then why am I here for?” he interrupted you.

“Well, I see no reason why we can’t give your body a little helping hand, or at least ease up the pain,” you offered “but I’m suspecting Mobius thought you could use a time out away from all of these, give you time to process everything.”

“Oh, so you and him are friends?” Loki scoffed. “You must be awfully close to let you stay here alone with me.”

“He’s a good friend, yes.” you admitted, “But this office is meant to be a safe space, everyone’s welcome if the need help. The infirmary is next door if your wounds were more severe.”

“So, what is this room?”

“A break room, to put it simply, but most of us come here to treat minor injuries, I usually help some of them” you shrugged. “That being said, I take it’d be alright if I checked for wounds? Given I’ll need you to open your jumpsuit and shirt.”

You waited patiently as Loki stared at you with curiosity, not completely following what was going on.

“You are allowed to call for an actual doctor or decline if you feel uncomfortable” you assured him.

“N-No... It’s” he licked his lips nervously, “It’s quite alright.”

He unbuttoned the jumpsuit and blue shirt, sliding the sleeves of his shirt as it uncovered down to his waist. Leaving his torso completely bare.

“Oh my...” you mumbled at the sight.

“What?” Loki asked amused, “enjoying the view?”

“I’m not gonna answer that,” you smiled, “we’re going off subject. Okay, I’ll start cleaning the open cuts, that good?”

“I suppose.”

You grabbed a little bottle and opened the cap, revealing a spray. Loki turned around so you could start with the wounds on his back.

“Okay, this is a sterilizer and disinfectant, it’ll clean the wounds, but it’s gonna sting” you warned him.

“Please, how bad can it AAAH!” he let out a yelp, arching his back and hissed in pain, it stung worse than he expected. “Careful!”

“I warned you it’d sting!” you smiled somewhat nervous, “I need you to be a bit tough for this.”

You began cleaning and disinfecting the wounds over his back. Loki winces through the pain. It does sting, but Loki bites his lip and remains silent, just watching you work. Your concern about him is making his defenses waver, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. Your intentions seem so pure and genuine.

By the time you finished cleaning the cuts on his back he had grown accustomed to the treatment. And when you gave gently taps with the gauze he started relaxing again.

“Asgardian resistance never ceases to amaze me” you complimented him. “I’m impressed Hulk didn’t roughen you up more.”

“You’ve seen that?” Loki said feeling his face heat up in embarrassment.

“Well… yeah…” you smiled at the sight of the flustered god. “You’re the most famous variant at the TVA, studying your life is kind of a requirement for the best Hunters, and to be just a decent Analyst.”

“Great” Loki groaned.

While you moved to treat the cuts up his arm, your finger stroked his bicep making him jolt. He pulled back his arm, causing you looking at him confusedly for a few moments. You just stayed in silent for a couple of seconds when a scaringly mischievous smile.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to tickle you.”

“Nonsense, I’m not-”

“Loki...” you cut him off with a teasy grin, “Yeah you are.”

Loki just grumbled.

“How do you know—?”

“I’m an Analyst, and even if a Loki variant wasn’t our top priority, and like I said, studying your life is kind of a requirement to be just a decent Analyst.”

“Oh, and you’re a decent one?” he mocked you.

“I’d like to think so” you just smiled back, clearly unphased. “Where else does it hurt?”

Loki thought for a moment, despite he felt way worse earlier, even right now there wasn’t a single inch of his body that wasn’t sore.

“Everywhere…?” you asked gently.

“That’s… correct…” he sighed, leaning back on the couch, groaning in pain.

You reach to try and get a look on Loki’s torso, stopping with your hands above his abdomen.

“Would it be okay if I check?” you asked, tilting your head to point at him “I mean, I have to check you, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

This was a huge contrast from everyone else he had talked to in the TVA, everyone had been at least rude, manipulative, or cruel and straight up life-threatening at some point. But at most you had teased him, you seemed genuinely wanting to help, and for some unknown, unexplained reason didn’t feel threatened by you at all.

Loki hesitated, and then nodded. He moves over so you can reach all of his wounds.

“You should know that being touched by someone else is not an experience I give just anyone, but it is preferable to remaining injured.” He says, a bit of vulnerability creeps into Loki’s voice, a rare sight. “Do what you must, please.”

“Okay,” you smiled at him, “thank you for the trust.”

That last comment stirred up something within him, did he trust you? He had just met you but being thanked for it was oddly pleasant.

“Does it hurt particularity bad here?” you asked, prodding, and poking around, gently squeezing his sides and ribs.

Loki flinches at the prodding and poking but holds still. He’s clearly nervous about your actions, and his hands are tight fists in his lap.

“N-No…” he stuttered through gritted teeth.

Which would’ve been concerning had it not been fore the smile crawling up his lips.

“I guess that discards broken ribs” you smiled, biting back the urge to tease him.

“I take it I’m not as much as an odd variant?” Loki asked, and you shook your head. “Well, that’s a pity… I thought I was special.”

“Not special? I strongly differ. Asgardian speed to heal never ceases to amaze me, I mean look at this! A blast from Tony Stark’s repulsors, a fight with Thor, an explosive arrow from a flying vehicle, and Hulk just whacking you around like a ragdoll” you said excitedly. “And look, almost every sever injury is already healed on its own! It’s almost as if your body knows what to heal first based on how critical the injure is!”

You kept pressing, squeezing, and poking Loki around, fully fascinated pointing out how healthy he seemed, only making Loki flinch more, sometimes with pain, sometimes with what felt like tickles. He did his best to keep his composure but sooner than he realizes it, he is taking in a few quick, shallow breaths, biting back to stop himself from laughing.

You chuckle softly, standing up to grab something from the cabinet on the corner.

“So, being super ticklish is a Loki thing, huh?” you grinned, almost as if you were not trying to tease him at all, “Sorry, I’ve never been so close to a Loki before, this is a fascinating opportunity!”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, usually the variants aren’t here for long…” you said sadly, “And I’m sad to say I’ve never been assigned to a case involving you so… Never got the chance to study the god of mischief firsthand…”

Under normal circumstances, Loki would have teased you, flirted with you just for the sake of embarrassing you, or just mocked you. But nothing of this situation was normal.

“How come?” Loki asked.

“Well… Loki variants are high rank cases,” you admitted “and it’s very had to climb your way to the top without leverage given there’s not much growth opportunity in here… So, I am assigned to safer cases… It’s good, but… there’s no… excitement…”

Then something clicked, the reason why Loki was sent to the break room and not the infirmary, why you treated his wounds rather than a doctor, why Mobius sent you to him, proving you could manage being with a Loki could help you rise through ranks. If you realized this as well, you didn’t show, you just seemed to focus on treating his wounds and studying.

“That sounds boring” Loki pointed out.

“It’s not so b… Aaah… No, boring is the right word!” you said with a newfound anger, “Do you know how few of us Analysts get to go into the field like Mobius and see the universe, while the rest of us are stuck here learning through document and video files?!”

“Look at the little mouse” Loki snickered, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Wouldn’t you be angry in my place?” you complained.

“No, I would cause mischief and find a way out” Loki retorted with a cocky smirk. “Not that a goody-goody like you would know how...”

Loki smiled at the indignant look on your face as you returned to sit next to him. You huffed as you unscrewed the lid of tiny jar on your hands. As soon the lid came off, he got smacked in the face by the disgusting smell and his smiled disappeared.

“I’m gonna rub this on your bruises, it should help them heal faster, but it’s a bit smelly” you warned him to help him relax. But then a devilish smile appeared in your lips, “...although I doubt that will be the least of your concerns.”

Loki’s face takes on a look of mild panic as you grab the ointment. His breath quickens again, and his heart starts to beat quicker. Loki’s fingers wrap around the arm rest of the couch, clutching the cloth.

“I... N-no. I... don’t... Please don’t...” Loki tried reasoning with you, on the cusp of a nervous fit as he speaks.

“Don’t be a baby,” you smiled amusedly “it’s for your own good!”

You then proceed to gently rub circles the ointment in a bruise on his belly. Loki’s breath hitches. His body goes rigid as the ointment touches him. Loki is silent for a moment, until he lets out a tiny, surprised squeak. His cheeks look like tomatoes.

“You know, I’m considering staying here to tickle you for a while” you smiled as his giggling kept further slipping through his mouth.

“Y-y-y-you are awful!” he accuses you, though he has playful tone, rather than an offensive one.

Maybe this whole Time Variance Authority pantomime really was fun... just a little bit.

“I know, I know” you roll your eyes in amusement, “just take it like a big boy, you’re still badly bruised.”

You look up at him for a moment and smiles at his red faces and how poorly his containing his reactions.

“You can laugh you know? I won’t get mad at you as long as you let me patch you up” you mocked him, moving on to the next spot.

That teasy reassurance broke him. Maybe he found it funny, maybe it was that the new spot was below a particularly sensitive rib, or maybe he really wanted to take that opportunity to not have a lung bursting due to held back laughter. But the damn broke.

He lets out a small chuckle, just as you begin rubbing the ointment along another bruise. Loki’s body is again rigid, and he lets out a sharp breath as he does a final desperate attempt to keep himself together. But it proved too much, and he burst into bright bubbly laughter.

“Wahahait! Nohohot there!” he cackled.

The smile on your face grew bigger at his dorky laugh.

“Is that a smile?” you teased him “Is this all that takes to make the God of Mischief laugh, a few tickles?”

“You are a terrible nurse!” he cried, laughing a bit in spite of himself. “Thihihihihis is cruel!

“Wow, I knew being a drama king was just hard coded into you but... That was uncalled for, if I were a bad nurse, I’d do this—” You giggle as you use your other hand to tickle his armpit.

Loki jumped at the contact and let out an adorable yet incredibly undignified squeak. As he doubled over in laughter.

“AHHH! No! No! S-s-stop!” he squealed, “Stohohohohop!”

Loki tried to fight against his body’s response, but ever since he was a child his entire body collapsed when he was tickled, leaving him a maniac laughing mess, and perhaps… perhaps, he was having fun and he couldn’t stay serious even if he wanted to. He just collapsed against the couch laughing.

He probably couldn’t remember the last time someone tickled him, but he even then the list wasn’t longer than his brother and his parents when he was very little. And when said parents are both royalty and gods… well, the list pretty much reduced to Thor.

And deep down, he missed it, after all that had been happening. This silly thing was the most relaxing thing he’d experienced in a while. It made him feel… playful.

“Imagine how much faster New York would’ve been if the Avenger had just ti— EEEEK! Lohohohoki!”

Before you could finish that sentence, Loki had latched onto your sides and he squeezed, making you burst into giggles.

“I’m sorry little Analyst, that’s what you get for underestimating the God of Mis— ehehehe hehey!”

And almost as if you weren’t two adults in the office of a universal scale organization you had unleashed a tickle fight just like any pair of children in a playfield.

“Gihihive up Loki, Ihihihi know ahahahall your tickle spots” you giggled you kneaded his hipbones, making him holler.

“Dohohon’t be so suhuhure! Ihihi I’m stihihihihill stronger thahahan youhuhu!” he cried, pinching over your ribs.

“Dohohoho our worst!” you squealed defiantly.

“Ohoho... I intend to” Loki chuckled, as he pulled you to his lap so he could claw and wiggle his fingers against your stomach.

“Ehehe— hey!” you whined, kicking your legs as he tickled you. “Stohohop it!”

“Mmm, no I don’t feel like stopping” Loki purred against your ear. “Maybe I’ll tickle you until you go mad.”

“Ohoho yeah?!” you laughed as you used the closeness to squeeze his kneecap.

He barked out a laugh as you had gone to attack his legs, squeezing his knees, or scribbling your fingers underneath them. It made him want to just surrender, but a stubborn one he was, and it made him double over on effort. Poking and prodding all over your torso trying to find a bad spot.

And it made you laugh for sure, but not stop you. His damn prisoner jumpsuit was still wide open, exposing his stomach for your fingernails to gently scratch all over it.

“Stohohohop thahahat or I— Ahahaha w-wait wahahahait!” he laughed.

Being objective, it made it an even fight, you were in your element, based on your performance you probably knew every ticklish spot on his body and your clothes were more protection that his while he despite having the strength wasn’t used to any of not having his magic, or this place, so he just clumsily tried fight back.

“Cuhuhut it ouhuhut!” you squeaked.

“You cuhuhut it out!” he complained as he wiggled his fingers against your sides, drilling his fingers against them.

It proved more effective because your squirming became more violent. And before he noticed you had both tumbled down to the floor. Despite that indirectly announced the end of that, the absurdity of the whole situation was enough to make you both laugh again.

“Alright, alright, that was fun, but I really need you to let me finish patching you up” you scolded him playfully as you helped him to his feet.

“Fine” he smiled, as he sat back on the couch “I must admit, I didn’t expect anyone here to know the meaning of fun.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes, not dignifying that with a response.

“I’ll be careful to try tickling you the least possible” you offered.

You refocused on rubbing the ointment on his bruises, which still very much tickled but not intentionally. Loki kept laughing and smiling with barely any restraint now. But in your defense, you had kept your word and it was bearable enough to keep a conversation with only an interrupting gasp or snicker here and there. He even complied rolling the pants’ leg to treat the most of his injuries from his ankles and legs.

You kept chatting with him, at first trying to make small talk, asking him about basic stuff like his thoughts on the building and dull topics, that sooner than later turned to events on Loki’s life. Going on about his sabotaging acts against humanity throughout history.

“… Okay, okay! But how did you keep convincing Switzerland to keep invading Liechtenstein?”

“Simple darling,” he bragged, “give them a —ehehe— give them enough time to forget, and make soldier get lost– hehe... enough.”

“But out of all the Realms what did you have against earth?” you chuckled. “You seemed to always pick on them quite a lot.”

“Surely you’d do the same to the planet the popularized the myth that you screwed a horse” Loki excused himself.

“Aww, no they didn’t” you grinned, “the horse did you, or should I remind who was the mother?”

Loki let out an undignified gasp as you burst out laughing.

“Oh, that’s low, even for a time bureaucrat” Loki said, with a smile he found himself incapable of suppressing.

He wouldn’t be caught dead saying it, but he actually liked this side of you, you seemed much less stiff than when you arrived, and… it was cute. Your nose scrunched up and your shoulders bounced at the pace of that stupidly self-satisfied laugh.

Who knows how long you two went on like this, often forgetting that you were here to cure him and just immersing in the conversation. And still… before he noticed, you had finished and were buttoning up his jumpsuit.

“There, it wasn’t so bad, was it?” you teased him.

The person now sitting before him seemed completely different to who walked in. More relaxed, witty, sarcastic, and funny.

“You are the worst nurse...” he grumbled, but there’s a clear note of pleasure in his voice.

“Ohoho... You just love getting yourself in trouble, your majesty” you gave him a last tickle on side before standing up. “Now all you need is time to heal.”

Loki stares up at your, breathing heavily after your last tickling. He’s still trying to keep a straight face when he speaks but it’s impossible. He lets out a tiny breathless laugh, and he sits up fully, and his head just drops back into the couch in mild exhaustion. His breath speeds up a bit and the smile on his face turns into a wide, toothy grin.

“Yes, doctor” he smiled cockily.

“I’ll bring you a clean uniform so you can take a shower and freshen up.” You said as you walked to the door, “You should be a… large, given how tall you are…” you offered gently. “You rest for a bit. I’ll take care of it.”

The way your hospitality moved him was scary. But Loki’s temper just subdued.

“I... thank you...” he said, almost in a whisper, “for everything.”

You looked at him. And for a moment, Loki would’ve sworn something in your gaze faltered, it looked almost regretful. But it vanished to that warm inviting smile you had earlier.

“Welcome to the TVA” you smiled.

It had been a very interesting day, days? His invasion to the Earth had been foiled and he was just about to be taken for what seemed to be a likely execution in Asgard when the Tesseract landed on his feet and what seemed to be a perfect escape ended up in a whole new world of trouble.

Sacred-Timelines, Variants, a Time Police, Space Lizard Gods that decided the flow of time, no magic, his entire life being a failure, him being destined to die by Thanos hands had just been the opener. And another variant of him going after them making Loki their best shot at catching him... Norns, give him a break.

“Alright Loki” Mobius patted him on the back, “Go get yourself patched up, we’ll start in the morning.”

“The morning?” Loki asked unsure, “There are mornings here?”

Mobius just laughed.

“It’s figurative speech, look, I’ll take you to the doc’s Office myself” he mocked him, “I don’t want the entire department pitying you. You look awful.”

Loki just groaned as he followed him around the TVA facilities, as Mobius explained further how things worked. But by the time they arrived Loki realized how sore he really felt, all the adrenaline of the day’s event died down, making him realize how sore he was.

“Good luck in there” Mobius teased, “I’ll see if I stop by with a get-well balloon or something.”

And he left the god to his luck. Right in front of a door with a sleeping face. Loki simply scoffed and knocked on the door before opening. And he had to admit that the sight was quite welcoming.

The room was pleasantly warm and illuminated in calid light, and warmly decorated, with a big red couch and two matching red cushioned footstools, a shiny wooden table with a bowl of candy, a water dispenser and cups with a handmade paper sign that said: «make yourself at home 😊». And a desk in one of the corners, that had a cabinet full of what seemed to be medicaments, bandages, and ointments. It almost didn’t look like a place of healing, but then again, nothing in this place made sense.

Loki sat on the couch, resting his feet on the footstool and the ambience of the place added up to his soreness made evident how exhausted he truly was. As much as he wanted to keep his guard up, he started to doze off.

He didn’t know how he was asleep when he was woken up by the sound of the door clicking open. He sat up straight with his feet on the floor as a figured stepped in the room wearing a black outfit and a white lab coat with the TVA logo on the sewn in the chest pocket and holding a folder of papers.

“Okay Mobius what did you need me to— O-Oh… you’re…” you muttered, “you’re the Loki variant everyone’s talking about.”

“How long was I out?” Loki asked, “Who are you? What are you gonna do to me?”

“Ah… I don’t know. 5, maybe 15 minutes? Sorry I kept you waiting, Mobius dropped you in the middle of my break” you apologized, looking through the documents. “So, I take it, you are who needed help...? Mobius said I was needed here.”

“Of course, he did” he huffed.

“Well, yeah… Although I assumed one of the Minute-Men needed help” you said politely. “But I can help you if there’s something you need from me.”

“You could take me to the Time-Keepers, that’d pull a smile on my face” Loki snarled.

“I would if I could, but I’m not high-ranked to see them myself…” you apologized politely. “Now, I’d normally say take a seat, but I see you already did so just, make yourself comfortable again.”

Loki didn’t move, his body still tense as he remained wary of your presence. You simply sat on the free footstool looking at him with patience.

“Okay, I uh… I’m ashamed to admit I checked your file to try finding where you could you be injured,” you admitted, “but I think it’s better just asking so… does it hurt anywhere?”

Loki just chuckled ironically.

“No need for your pity.”

“Pity?” you chuckled, “Loki, it’s my job to care for others, that’s the TVA’s mission! If you want to get rid of me just help me help you and you’ll never have to deal with me again…”

Knowing that there was no point fighting he just sighed in defeat as he leaned back on the couch.

“Were doesn’t it hurt?” he joked.

“Right, your variance is after New York, it took you weeks to fully recover, twisted ankle, several cuts and big bruises all over, occasional broken ribs, I’m impressed you managed to wreak havoc in this state.” You explained, “But this… this is I have never seen.”

You reached to touch the bruise on his cheek, brushing lightly against his cheekbone.

“Ow! Stop that!” Loki protested at the touch. “This is not from New York! Your associate smacked me across the face when you stole me from the Timeline!”

“B-15 did this to you?!” you gasped in horror, “Oh she’s so gonna hear it from me when I see her! Look at this bruise!”

“I’m not sure what you expect from a punch that lasts half a minute” Loki protested.

“She slow-mo-ed you?” you smiled nervously, but his cold expression made it evident he had not found it half as amusing as you did. “Ahem, sorry.”

You stood up and walked to the cabinet and grabbed a couple of items, bandages, gauze, and a couple of bottles. And you returned to sit by his side, to make look at his face.

“Hold on a second, did you say occasional broken ribs? How does that work? Shouldn’t all wounds be the same?”

“Well… yes, and no…” you explained, “The body can react differently to the same kind of injury, like sometimes tripping down the stairs can bruise you, sometimes it won’t, creating minor variances, but not always enough to create a branch line, as long as they need keep with the flow of time. Unless the wound has a consequence, it’s not a variance, and you were locked up for a while to heal after this. And Asgardians are particularly resistant and heal on their own quite fast—”

“Then why am I here for?” he interrupted you.

“Well, I see no reason why we can’t give your body a little helping hand, or at least ease up the pain,” you offered “but I’m suspecting Mobius thought you could use a time out away from all of these, give you time to process everything.”

“Oh, so you and him are friends?” Loki scoffed. “You must be awfully close to let you stay here alone with me.”

“He’s a good friend, yes.” you admitted, “But this office is meant to be a safe space, everyone’s welcome if the need help. The infirmary is next door if your wounds were more severe.”

“So, what is this room?”

“A break room, to put it simply, but most of us come here to treat minor injuries, I usually help some of them” you shrugged. “That being said, I take it’d be alright if I checked for wounds? Given I’ll need you to open your jumpsuit and shirt.”

You waited patiently as Loki stared at you with curiosity, not completely following what was going on.

“You are allowed to call for an actual doctor or decline if you feel uncomfortable” you assured him.

“N-No... It’s” he licked his lips nervously, “It’s quite alright.”

He unbuttoned the jumpsuit and blue shirt, sliding the sleeves of his shirt as it uncovered down to his waist. Leaving his torso completely bare.

“Oh my...” you mumbled at the sight.

“What?” Loki asked amused, “enjoying the view?”

“I’m not gonna answer that,” you smiled, “we’re going off subject. Okay, I’ll start cleaning the open cuts, that good?”

“I suppose.”

You grabbed a little bottle and opened the cap, revealing a spray. Loki turned around so you could start with the wounds on his back.

“Okay, this is a sterilizer and disinfectant, it’ll clean the wounds, but it’s gonna sting” you warned him.

“Please, how bad can it AAAH!” he let out a yelp, arching his back and hissed in pain, it stung worse than he expected. “Careful!”

“I warned you it’d sting!” you smiled somewhat nervous, “I need you to be a bit tough for this.”

You began cleaning and disinfecting the wounds over his back. Loki winces through the pain. It does sting, but Loki bites his lip and remains silent, just watching you work. Your concern about him is making his defenses waver, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. Your intentions seem so pure and genuine.

By the time you finished cleaning the cuts on his back he had grown accustomed to the treatment. And when you gave gently taps with the gauze he started relaxing again.

“Asgardian resistance never ceases to amaze me” you complimented him. “I’m impressed Hulk didn’t roughen you up more.”

“You’ve seen that?” Loki said feeling his face heat up in embarrassment.

“Well… yeah…” you smiled at the sight of the flustered god. “You’re the most famous variant at the TVA, studying your life is kind of a requirement for the best Hunters, and to be just a decent Analyst.”

“Great” Loki groaned.

While you moved to treat the cuts up his arm, your finger stroked his bicep making him jolt. He pulled back his arm, causing you looking at him confusedly for a few moments. You just stayed in silent for a couple of seconds when a scaringly mischievous smile.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to tickle you.”

“Nonsense, I’m not-”

“Loki...” you cut him off with a teasy grin, “Yeah you are.”

Loki just grumbled.

“How do you know—?”

“I’m an Analyst, and even if a Loki variant wasn’t our top priority, and like I said, studying your life is kind of a requirement to be just a decent Analyst.”

“Oh, and you’re a decent one?” he mocked you.

“I’d like to think so” you just smiled back, clearly unphased. “Where else does it hurt?”

Loki thought for a moment, despite he felt way worse earlier, even right now there wasn’t a single inch of his body that wasn’t sore.

“Everywhere…?” you asked gently.

“That’s… correct…” he sighed, leaning back on the couch, groaning in pain.

You reach to try and get a look on Loki’s torso, stopping with your hands above his abdomen.

“Would it be okay if I check?” you asked, tilting your head to point at him “I mean, I have to check you, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

This was a huge contrast from everyone else he had talked to in the TVA, everyone had been at least rude, manipulative, or cruel and straight up life-threatening at some point. But at most you had teased him, you seemed genuinely wanting to help, and for some unknown, unexplained reason didn’t feel threatened by you at all.

Loki hesitated, and then nodded. He moves over so you can reach all of his wounds.

“You should know that being touched by someone else is not an experience I give just anyone, but it is preferable to remaining injured.” He says, a bit of vulnerability creeps into Loki’s voice, a rare sight. “Do what you must, please.”

“Okay,” you smiled at him, “thank you for the trust.”

That last comment stirred up something within him, did he trust you? He had just met you but being thanked for it was oddly pleasant.

“Does it hurt particularity bad here?” you asked, prodding, and poking around, gently squeezing his sides and ribs.

Loki flinches at the prodding and poking but holds still. He’s clearly nervous about your actions, and his hands are tight fists in his lap.

“N-No…” he stuttered through gritted teeth.

Which would’ve been concerning had it not been fore the smile crawling up his lips.

“I guess that discards broken ribs” you smiled, biting back the urge to tease him.

“I take it I’m not as much as an odd variant?” Loki asked, and you shook your head. “Well, that’s a pity… I thought I was special.”

“Not special? I strongly differ. Asgardian speed to heal never ceases to amaze me, I mean look at this! A blast from Tony Stark’s repulsors, a fight with Thor, an explosive arrow from a flying vehicle, and Hulk just whacking you around like a ragdoll” you said excitedly. “And look, almost every sever injury is already healed on its own! It’s almost as if your body knows what to heal first based on how critical the injure is!”

You kept pressing, squeezing, and poking Loki around, fully fascinated pointing out how healthy he seemed, only making Loki flinch more, sometimes with pain, sometimes with what felt like tickles. He did his best to keep his composure but sooner than he realizes it, he is taking in a few quick, shallow breaths, biting back to stop himself from laughing.

You chuckle softly, standing up to grab something from the cabinet on the corner.

“So, being super ticklish is a Loki thing, huh?” you grinned, almost as if you were not trying to tease him at all, “Sorry, I’ve never been so close to a Loki before, this is a fascinating opportunity!”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, usually the variants aren’t here for long…” you said sadly, “And I’m sad to say I’ve never been assigned to a case involving you so… Never got the chance to study the god of mischief firsthand…”

Under normal circumstances, Loki would have teased you, flirted with you just for the sake of embarrassing you, or just mocked you. But nothing of this situation was normal.

“How come?” Loki asked.

“Well… Loki variants are high rank cases,” you admitted “and it’s very had to climb your way to the top without leverage given there’s not much growth opportunity in here… So, I am assigned to safer cases… It’s good, but… there’s no… excitement…”

Then something clicked, the reason why Loki was sent to the break room and not the infirmary, why you treated his wounds rather than a doctor, why Mobius sent you to him, proving you could manage being with a Loki could help you rise through ranks. If you realized this as well, you didn’t show, you just seemed to focus on treating his wounds and studying.

“That sounds boring” Loki pointed out.

“It’s not so b… Aaah… No, boring is the right word!” you said with a newfound anger, “Do you know how few of us Analysts get to go into the field like Mobius and see the universe, while the rest of us are stuck here learning through document and video files?!”

“Look at the little mouse” Loki snickered, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Wouldn’t you be angry in my place?” you complained.

“No, I would cause mischief and find a way out” Loki retorted with a cocky smirk. “Not that a goody-goody like you would know how...”

Loki smiled at the indignant look on your face as you returned to sit next to him. You huffed as you unscrewed the lid of tiny jar on your hands. As soon the lid came off, he got smacked in the face by the disgusting smell and his smiled disappeared.

“I’m gonna rub this on your bruises, it should help them heal faster, but it’s a bit smelly” you warned him to help him relax. But then a devilish smile appeared in your lips, “...although I doubt that will be the least of your concerns.”

Loki’s face takes on a look of mild panic as you grab the ointment. His breath quickens again, and his heart starts to beat quicker. Loki’s fingers wrap around the arm rest of the couch, clutching the cloth.

“I... N-no. I... don’t... Please don’t...” Loki tried reasoning with you, on the cusp of a nervous fit as he speaks.

“Don’t be a baby,” you smiled amusedly “it’s for your own good!”

You then proceed to gently rub circles the ointment in a bruise on his belly. Loki’s breath hitches. His body goes rigid as the ointment touches him. Loki is silent for a moment, until he lets out a tiny, surprised squeak. His cheeks look like tomatoes.

“You know, I’m considering staying here to tickle you for a while” you smiled as his giggling kept further slipping through his mouth.

“Y-y-y-you are awful!” he accuses you, though he has playful tone, rather than an offensive one.

Maybe this whole Time Variance Authority pantomime really was fun... just a little bit.

“I know, I know” you roll your eyes in amusement, “just take it like a big boy, you’re still badly bruised.”

You look up at him for a moment and smiles at his red faces and how poorly his containing his reactions.

“You can laugh you know? I won’t get mad at you as long as you let me patch you up” you mocked him, moving on to the next spot.

That teasy reassurance broke him. Maybe he found it funny, maybe it was that the new spot was below a particularly sensitive rib, or maybe he really wanted to take that opportunity to not have a lung bursting due to held back laughter. But the damn broke.

He lets out a small chuckle, just as you begin rubbing the ointment along another bruise. Loki’s body is again rigid, and he lets out a sharp breath as he does a final desperate attempt to keep himself together. But it proved too much, and he burst into bright bubbly laughter.

“Wahahait! Nohohot there!” he cackled.

The smile on your face grew bigger at his dorky laugh.

“Is that a smile?” you teased him “Is this all that takes to make the God of Mischief laugh, a few tickles?”

“You are a terrible nurse!” he cried, laughing a bit in spite of himself. “Thihihihihis is cruel!

“Wow, I knew being a drama king was just hard coded into you but... That was uncalled for, if I were a bad nurse, I’d do this—” You giggle as you use your other hand to tickle his armpit.

Loki jumped at the contact and let out an adorable yet incredibly undignified squeak. As he doubled over in laughter.

“AHHH! No! No! S-s-stop!” he squealed, “Stohohohohop!”

Loki tried to fight against his body’s response, but ever since he was a child his entire body collapsed when he was tickled, leaving him a maniac laughing mess, and perhaps… perhaps, he was having fun and he couldn’t stay serious even if he wanted to. He just collapsed against the couch laughing.

He probably couldn’t remember the last time someone tickled him, but he even then the list wasn’t longer than his brother and his parents when he was very little. And when said parents are both royalty and gods… well, the list pretty much reduced to Thor.

And deep down, he missed it, after all that had been happening. This silly thing was the most relaxing thing he’d experienced in a while. It made him feel… playful.

“Imagine how much faster New York would’ve been if the Avenger had just ti— EEEEK! Lohohohoki!”

Before you could finish that sentence, Loki had latched onto your sides and he squeezed, making you burst into giggles.

“I’m sorry little Analyst, that’s what you get for underestimating the God of Mis— ehehehe hehey!”

And almost as if you weren’t two adults in the office of a universal scale organization you had unleashed a tickle fight just like any pair of children in a playfield.

“Gihihive up Loki, Ihihihi know ahahahall your tickle spots” you giggled you kneaded his hipbones, making him holler.

“Dohohon’t be so suhuhure! Ihihi I’m stihihihihill stronger thahahan youhuhu!” he cried, pinching over your ribs.

“Dohohoho our worst!” you squealed defiantly.

“Ohoho... I intend to” Loki chuckled, as he pulled you to his lap so he could claw and wiggle his fingers against your stomach.

“Ehehe— hey!” you whined, kicking your legs as he tickled you. “Stohohop it!”

“Mmm, no I don’t feel like stopping” Loki purred against your ear. “Maybe I’ll tickle you until you go mad.”

“Ohoho yeah?!” you laughed as you used the closeness to squeeze his kneecap.

He barked out a laugh as you had gone to attack his legs, squeezing his knees, or scribbling your fingers underneath them. It made him want to just surrender, but a stubborn one he was, and it made him double over on effort. Poking and prodding all over your torso trying to find a bad spot.

And it made you laugh for sure, but not stop you. His damn prisoner jumpsuit was still wide open, exposing his stomach for your fingernails to gently scratch all over it.

“Stohohohop thahahat or I— Ahahaha w-wait wahahahait!” he laughed.

Being objective, it made it an even fight, you were in your element, based on your performance you probably knew every ticklish spot on his body and your clothes were more protection that his while he despite having the strength wasn’t used to any of not having his magic, or this place, so he just clumsily tried fight back.

“Cuhuhut it ouhuhut!” you squeaked.

“You cuhuhut it out!” he complained as he wiggled his fingers against your sides, drilling his fingers against them.

It proved more effective because your squirming became more violent. And before he noticed you had both tumbled down to the floor. Despite that indirectly announced the end of that, the absurdity of the whole situation was enough to make you both laugh again.

“Alright, alright, that was fun, but I really need you to let me finish patching you up” you scolded him playfully as you helped him to his feet.

“Fine” he smiled, as he sat back on the couch “I must admit, I didn’t expect anyone here to know the meaning of fun.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes, not dignifying that with a response.

“I’ll be careful to try tickling you the least possible” you offered.

You refocused on rubbing the ointment on his bruises, which still very much tickled but not intentionally. Loki kept laughing and smiling with barely any restraint now. But in your defense, you had kept your word and it was bearable enough to keep a conversation with only an interrupting gasp or snicker here and there. He even complied rolling the pants’ leg to treat the most of his injuries from his ankles and legs.

You kept chatting with him, at first trying to make small talk, asking him about basic stuff like his thoughts on the building and dull topics, that sooner than later turned to events on Loki’s life. Going on about his sabotaging acts against humanity throughout history.

“… Okay, okay! But how did you keep convincing Switzerland to keep invading Liechtenstein?”

“Simple darling,” he bragged, “give them a —ehehe— give them enough time to forget, and make soldier get lost– hehe... enough.”

“But out of all the Realms what did you have against earth?” you chuckled. “You seemed to always pick on them quite a lot.”

“Surely you’d do the same to the planet the popularized the myth that you screwed a horse” Loki excused himself.

“Aww, no they didn’t” you grinned, “the horse did you, or should I remind who was the mother?”

Loki let out an undignified gasp as you burst out laughing.

“Oh, that’s low, even for a time bureaucrat” Loki said, with a smile he found himself incapable of suppressing.

He wouldn’t be caught dead saying it, but he actually liked this side of you, you seemed much less stiff than when you arrived, and… it was cute. Your nose scrunched up and your shoulders bounced at the pace of that stupidly self-satisfied laugh.

Who knows how long you two went on like this, often forgetting that you were here to cure him and just immersing in the conversation. And still… before he noticed, you had finished and were buttoning up his jumpsuit.

“There, it wasn’t so bad, was it?” you teased him.

The person now sitting before him seemed completely different to who walked in. More relaxed, witty, sarcastic, and funny.

“You are the worst nurse...” he grumbled, but there’s a clear note of pleasure in his voice.

“Ohoho... You just love getting yourself in trouble, your majesty” you gave him a last tickle on side before standing up. “Now all you need is time to heal.”

Loki stares up at your, breathing heavily after your last tickling. He’s still trying to keep a straight face when he speaks but it’s impossible. He lets out a tiny breathless laugh, and he sits up fully, and his head just drops back into the couch in mild exhaustion. His breath speeds up a bit and the smile on his face turns into a wide, toothy grin.

“Yes, doctor” he smiled cockily.

“I’ll bring you a clean uniform so you can take a shower and freshen up.” You said as you walked to the door, “You should be a… large, given how tall you are…” you offered gently. “You rest for a bit. I’ll take care of it.”

The way your hospitality moved him was scary. But Loki’s temper just subdued.

“I... thank you...” he said, almost in a whisper, “for everything.”

You looked at him. And for a moment, Loki would’ve sworn something in your gaze faltered, it looked almost regretful. But it vanished to that warm inviting smile you had earlier.

“Welcome to the TVA” you smiled.

It had been a very interesting day, days? His invasion to the Earth had been foiled and he was just about to be taken for what seemed to be a likely execution in Asgard when the Tesseract landed on his feet and what seemed to be a perfect escape ended up in a whole new world of trouble.

Sacred-Timelines, Variants, a Time Police, Space Lizard Gods that decided the flow of time, no magic, his entire life being a failure, him being destined to die by Thanos hands had just been the opener. And another variant of him going after them making Loki their best shot at catching him... Norns, give him a break.

“Alright Loki” Mobius patted him on the back, “Go get yourself patched up, we’ll start in the morning.”

“The morning?” Loki asked unsure, “There are mornings here?”

Mobius just laughed.

“It’s figurative speech, look, I’ll take you to the doc’s Office myself” he mocked him, “I don’t want the entire department pitying you. You look awful.”

Loki just groaned as he followed him around the TVA facilities, as Mobius explained further how things worked. But by the time they arrived Loki realized how sore he really felt, all the adrenaline of the day’s event died down, making him realize how sore he was.

“Good luck in there” Mobius teased, “I’ll see if I stop by with a get-well balloon or something.”

And he left the god to his luck. Right in front of a door with a sleeping face. Loki simply scoffed and knocked on the door before opening. And he had to admit that the sight was quite welcoming.

The room was pleasantly warm and illuminated in calid light, and warmly decorated, with a big red couch and two matching red cushioned footstools, a shiny wooden table with a bowl of candy, a water dispenser and cups with a handmade paper sign that said: «make yourself at home 😊». And a desk in one of the corners, that had a cabinet full of what seemed to be medicaments, bandages, and ointments. It almost didn’t look like a place of healing, but then again, nothing in this place made sense.

Loki sat on the couch, resting his feet on the footstool and the ambience of the place added up to his soreness made evident how exhausted he truly was. As much as he wanted to keep his guard up, he started to doze off.

He didn’t know how he was asleep when he was woken up by the sound of the door clicking open. He sat up straight with his feet on the floor as a figured stepped in the room wearing a black outfit and a white lab coat with the TVA logo on the sewn in the chest pocket and holding a folder of papers.

“Okay Mobius what did you need me to— O-Oh… you’re…” you muttered, “you’re the Loki variant everyone’s talking about.”

“How long was I out?” Loki asked, “Who are you? What are you gonna do to me?”

“Ah… I don’t know. 5, maybe 15 minutes? Sorry I kept you waiting, Mobius dropped you in the middle of my break” you apologized, looking through the documents. “So, I take it, you are who needed help...? Mobius said I was needed here.”

“Of course, he did” he huffed.

“Well, yeah… Although I assumed one of the Minute-Men needed help” you said politely. “But I can help you if there’s something you need from me.”

“You could take me to the Time-Keepers, that’d pull a smile on my face” Loki snarled.

“I would if I could, but I’m not high-ranked to see them myself…” you apologized politely. “Now, I’d normally say take a seat, but I see you already did so just, make yourself comfortable again.”

Loki didn’t move, his body still tense as he remained wary of your presence. You simply sat on the free footstool looking at him with patience.

“Okay, I uh… I’m ashamed to admit I checked your file to try finding where you could you be injured,” you admitted, “but I think it’s better just asking so… does it hurt anywhere?”

Loki just chuckled ironically.

“No need for your pity.”

“Pity?” you chuckled, “Loki, it’s my job to care for others, that’s the TVA’s mission! If you want to get rid of me just help me help you and you’ll never have to deal with me again…”

Knowing that there was no point fighting he just sighed in defeat as he leaned back on the couch.

“Were doesn’t it hurt?” he joked.

“Right, your variance is after New York, it took you weeks to fully recover, twisted ankle, several cuts and big bruises all over, occasional broken ribs, I’m impressed you managed to wreak havoc in this state.” You explained, “But this… this is I have never seen.”

You reached to touch the bruise on his cheek, brushing lightly against his cheekbone.

“Ow! Stop that!” Loki protested at the touch. “This is not from New York! Your associate smacked me across the face when you stole me from the Timeline!”

“B-15 did this to you?!” you gasped in horror, “Oh she’s so gonna hear it from me when I see her! Look at this bruise!”

“I’m not sure what you expect from a punch that lasts half a minute” Loki protested.

“She slow-mo-ed you?” you smiled nervously, but his cold expression made it evident he had not found it half as amusing as you did. “Ahem, sorry.”

You stood up and walked to the cabinet and grabbed a couple of items, bandages, gauze, and a couple of bottles. And you returned to sit by his side, to make look at his face.

“Hold on a second, did you say occasional broken ribs? How does that work? Shouldn’t all wounds be the same?”

“Well… yes, and no…” you explained, “The body can react differently to the same kind of injury, like sometimes tripping down the stairs can bruise you, sometimes it won’t, creating minor variances, but not always enough to create a branch line, as long as they need keep with the flow of time. Unless the wound has a consequence, it’s not a variance, and you were locked up for a while to heal after this. And Asgardians are particularly resistant and heal on their own quite fast—”

“Then why am I here for?” he interrupted you.

“Well, I see no reason why we can’t give your body a little helping hand, or at least ease up the pain,” you offered “but I’m suspecting Mobius thought you could use a time out away from all of these, give you time to process everything.”

“Oh, so you and him are friends?” Loki scoffed. “You must be awfully close to let you stay here alone with me.”

“He’s a good friend, yes.” you admitted, “But this office is meant to be a safe space, everyone’s welcome if the need help. The infirmary is next door if your wounds were more severe.”

“So, what is this room?”

“A break room, to put it simply, but most of us come here to treat minor injuries, I usually help some of them” you shrugged. “That being said, I take it’d be alright if I checked for wounds? Given I’ll need you to open your jumpsuit and shirt.”

You waited patiently as Loki stared at you with curiosity, not completely following what was going on.

“You are allowed to call for an actual doctor or decline if you feel uncomfortable” you assured him.

“N-No... It’s” he licked his lips nervously, “It’s quite alright.”

He unbuttoned the jumpsuit and blue shirt, sliding the sleeves of his shirt as it uncovered down to his waist. Leaving his torso completely bare.

“Oh my...” you mumbled at the sight.

“What?” Loki asked amused, “enjoying the view?”

“I’m not gonna answer that,” you smiled, “we’re going off subject. Okay, I’ll start cleaning the open cuts, that good?”

“I suppose.”

You grabbed a little bottle and opened the cap, revealing a spray. Loki turned around so you could start with the wounds on his back.

“Okay, this is a sterilizer and disinfectant, it’ll clean the wounds, but it’s gonna sting” you warned him.

“Please, how bad can it AAAH!” he let out a yelp, arching his back and hissed in pain, it stung worse than he expected. “Careful!”

“I warned you it’d sting!” you smiled somewhat nervous, “I need you to be a bit tough for this.”

You began cleaning and disinfecting the wounds over his back. Loki winces through the pain. It does sting, but Loki bites his lip and remains silent, just watching you work. Your concern about him is making his defenses waver, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. Your intentions seem so pure and genuine.

By the time you finished cleaning the cuts on his back he had grown accustomed to the treatment. And when you gave gently taps with the gauze he started relaxing again.

“Asgardian resistance never ceases to amaze me” you complimented him. “I’m impressed Hulk didn’t roughen you up more.”

“You’ve seen that?” Loki said feeling his face heat up in embarrassment.

“Well… yeah…” you smiled at the sight of the flustered god. “You’re the most famous variant at the TVA, studying your life is kind of a requirement for the best Hunters, and to be just a decent Analyst.”

“Great” Loki groaned.

While you moved to treat the cuts up his arm, your finger stroked his bicep making him jolt. He pulled back his arm, causing you looking at him confusedly for a few moments. You just stayed in silent for a couple of seconds when a scaringly mischievous smile.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to tickle you.”

“Nonsense, I’m not-”

“Loki...” you cut him off with a teasy grin, “Yeah you are.”

Loki just grumbled.

“How do you know—?”

“I’m an Analyst, and even if a Loki variant wasn’t our top priority, and like I said, studying your life is kind of a requirement to be just a decent Analyst.”

“Oh, and you’re a decent one?” he mocked you.

“I’d like to think so” you just smiled back, clearly unphased. “Where else does it hurt?”

Loki thought for a moment, despite he felt way worse earlier, even right now there wasn’t a single inch of his body that wasn’t sore.

“Everywhere…?” you asked gently.

“That’s… correct…” he sighed, leaning back on the couch, groaning in pain.

You reach to try and get a look on Loki’s torso, stopping with your hands above his abdomen.

“Would it be okay if I check?” you asked, tilting your head to point at him “I mean, I have to check you, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

This was a huge contrast from everyone else he had talked to in the TVA, everyone had been at least rude, manipulative, or cruel and straight up life-threatening at some point. But at most you had teased him, you seemed genuinely wanting to help, and for some unknown, unexplained reason didn’t feel threatened by you at all.

Loki hesitated, and then nodded. He moves over so you can reach all of his wounds.

“You should know that being touched by someone else is not an experience I give just anyone, but it is preferable to remaining injured.” He says, a bit of vulnerability creeps into Loki’s voice, a rare sight. “Do what you must, please.”

“Okay,” you smiled at him, “thank you for the trust.”

That last comment stirred up something within him, did he trust you? He had just met you but being thanked for it was oddly pleasant.

“Does it hurt particularity bad here?” you asked, prodding, and poking around, gently squeezing his sides and ribs.

Loki flinches at the prodding and poking but holds still. He’s clearly nervous about your actions, and his hands are tight fists in his lap.

“N-No…” he stuttered through gritted teeth.

Which would’ve been concerning had it not been fore the smile crawling up his lips.

“I guess that discards broken ribs” you smiled, biting back the urge to tease him.

“I take it I’m not as much as an odd variant?” Loki asked, and you shook your head. “Well, that’s a pity… I thought I was special.”

“Not special? I strongly differ. Asgardian speed to heal never ceases to amaze me, I mean look at this! A blast from Tony Stark’s repulsors, a fight with Thor, an explosive arrow from a flying vehicle, and Hulk just whacking you around like a ragdoll” you said excitedly. “And look, almost every sever injury is already healed on its own! It’s almost as if your body knows what to heal first based on how critical the injure is!”

You kept pressing, squeezing, and poking Loki around, fully fascinated pointing out how healthy he seemed, only making Loki flinch more, sometimes with pain, sometimes with what felt like tickles. He did his best to keep his composure but sooner than he realizes it, he is taking in a few quick, shallow breaths, biting back to stop himself from laughing.

You chuckle softly, standing up to grab something from the cabinet on the corner.

“So, being super ticklish is a Loki thing, huh?” you grinned, almost as if you were not trying to tease him at all, “Sorry, I’ve never been so close to a Loki before, this is a fascinating opportunity!”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, usually the variants aren’t here for long…” you said sadly, “And I’m sad to say I’ve never been assigned to a case involving you so… Never got the chance to study the god of mischief firsthand…”

Under normal circumstances, Loki would have teased you, flirted with you just for the sake of embarrassing you, or just mocked you. But nothing of this situation was normal.

“How come?” Loki asked.

“Well… Loki variants are high rank cases,” you admitted “and it’s very had to climb your way to the top without leverage given there’s not much growth opportunity in here… So, I am assigned to safer cases… It’s good, but… there’s no… excitement…”

Then something clicked, the reason why Loki was sent to the break room and not the infirmary, why you treated his wounds rather than a doctor, why Mobius sent you to him, proving you could manage being with a Loki could help you rise through ranks. If you realized this as well, you didn’t show, you just seemed to focus on treating his wounds and studying.

“That sounds boring” Loki pointed out.

“It’s not so b… Aaah… No, boring is the right word!” you said with a newfound anger, “Do you know how few of us Analysts get to go into the field like Mobius and see the universe, while the rest of us are stuck here learning through document and video files?!”

“Look at the little mouse” Loki snickered, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Wouldn’t you be angry in my place?” you complained.

“No, I would cause mischief and find a way out” Loki retorted with a cocky smirk. “Not that a goody-goody like you would know how...”

Loki smiled at the indignant look on your face as you returned to sit next to him. You huffed as you unscrewed the lid of tiny jar on your hands. As soon the lid came off, he got smacked in the face by the disgusting smell and his smiled disappeared.

“I’m gonna rub this on your bruises, it should help them heal faster, but it’s a bit smelly” you warned him to help him relax. But then a devilish smile appeared in your lips, “...although I doubt that will be the least of your concerns.”

Loki’s face takes on a look of mild panic as you grab the ointment. His breath quickens again, and his heart starts to beat quicker. Loki’s fingers wrap around the arm rest of the couch, clutching the cloth.

“I... N-no. I... don’t... Please don’t...” Loki tried reasoning with you, on the cusp of a nervous fit as he speaks.

“Don’t be a baby,” you smiled amusedly “it’s for your own good!”

You then proceed to gently rub circles the ointment in a bruise on his belly. Loki’s breath hitches. His body goes rigid as the ointment touches him. Loki is silent for a moment, until he lets out a tiny, surprised squeak. His cheeks look like tomatoes.

“You know, I’m considering staying here to tickle you for a while” you smiled as his giggling kept further slipping through his mouth.

“Y-y-y-you are awful!” he accuses you, though he has playful tone, rather than an offensive one.

Maybe this whole Time Variance Authority pantomime really was fun... just a little bit.

“I know, I know” you roll your eyes in amusement, “just take it like a big boy, you’re still badly bruised.”

You look up at him for a moment and smiles at his red faces and how poorly his containing his reactions.

“You can laugh you know? I won’t get mad at you as long as you let me patch you up” you mocked him, moving on to the next spot.

That teasy reassurance broke him. Maybe he found it funny, maybe it was that the new spot was below a particularly sensitive rib, or maybe he really wanted to take that opportunity to not have a lung bursting due to held back laughter. But the damn broke.

He lets out a small chuckle, just as you begin rubbing the ointment along another bruise. Loki’s body is again rigid, and he lets out a sharp breath as he does a final desperate attempt to keep himself together. But it proved too much, and he burst into bright bubbly laughter.

“Wahahait! Nohohot there!” he cackled.

The smile on your face grew bigger at his dorky laugh.

“Is that a smile?” you teased him “Is this all that takes to make the God of Mischief laugh, a few tickles?”

“You are a terrible nurse!” he cried, laughing a bit in spite of himself. “Thihihihihis is cruel!

“Wow, I knew being a drama king was just hard coded into you but... That was uncalled for, if I were a bad nurse, I’d do this—” You giggle as you use your other hand to tickle his armpit.

Loki jumped at the contact and let out an adorable yet incredibly undignified squeak. As he doubled over in laughter.

“AHHH! No! No! S-s-stop!” he squealed, “Stohohohohop!”

Loki tried to fight against his body’s response, but ever since he was a child his entire body collapsed when he was tickled, leaving him a maniac laughing mess, and perhaps… perhaps, he was having fun and he couldn’t stay serious even if he wanted to. He just collapsed against the couch laughing.

He probably couldn’t remember the last time someone tickled him, but he even then the list wasn’t longer than his brother and his parents when he was very little. And when said parents are both royalty and gods… well, the list pretty much reduced to Thor.

And deep down, he missed it, after all that had been happening. This silly thing was the most relaxing thing he’d experienced in a while. It made him feel… playful.

“Imagine how much faster New York would’ve been if the Avenger had just ti— EEEEK! Lohohohoki!”

Before you could finish that sentence, Loki had latched onto your sides and he squeezed, making you burst into giggles.

“I’m sorry little Analyst, that’s what you get for underestimating the God of Mis— ehehehe hehey!”

And almost as if you weren’t two adults in the office of a universal scale organization you had unleashed a tickle fight just like any pair of children in a playfield.

“Gihihive up Loki, Ihihihi know ahahahall your tickle spots” you giggled you kneaded his hipbones, making him holler.

“Dohohon’t be so suhuhure! Ihihi I’m stihihihihill stronger thahahan youhuhu!” he cried, pinching over your ribs.

“Dohohoho our worst!” you squealed defiantly.

“Ohoho... I intend to” Loki chuckled, as he pulled you to his lap so he could claw and wiggle his fingers against your stomach.

“Ehehe— hey!” you whined, kicking your legs as he tickled you. “Stohohop it!”

“Mmm, no I don’t feel like stopping” Loki purred against your ear. “Maybe I’ll tickle you until you go mad.”

“Ohoho yeah?!” you laughed as you used the closeness to squeeze his kneecap.

He barked out a laugh as you had gone to attack his legs, squeezing his knees, or scribbling your fingers underneath them. It made him want to just surrender, but a stubborn one he was, and it made him double over on effort. Poking and prodding all over your torso trying to find a bad spot.

And it made you laugh for sure, but not stop you. His damn prisoner jumpsuit was still wide open, exposing his stomach for your fingernails to gently scratch all over it.

“Stohohohop thahahat or I— Ahahaha w-wait wahahahait!” he laughed.

Being objective, it made it an even fight, you were in your element, based on your performance you probably knew every ticklish spot on his body and your clothes were more protection that his while he despite having the strength wasn’t used to any of not having his magic, or this place, so he just clumsily tried fight back.

“Cuhuhut it ouhuhut!” you squeaked.

“You cuhuhut it out!” he complained as he wiggled his fingers against your sides, drilling his fingers against them.

It proved more effective because your squirming became more violent. And before he noticed you had both tumbled down to the floor. Despite that indirectly announced the end of that, the absurdity of the whole situation was enough to make you both laugh again.

“Alright, alright, that was fun, but I really need you to let me finish patching you up” you scolded him playfully as you helped him to his feet.

“Fine” he smiled, as he sat back on the couch “I must admit, I didn’t expect anyone here to know the meaning of fun.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes, not dignifying that with a response.

“I’ll be careful to try tickling you the least possible” you offered.

You refocused on rubbing the ointment on his bruises, which still very much tickled but not intentionally. Loki kept laughing and smiling with barely any restraint now. But in your defense, you had kept your word and it was bearable enough to keep a conversation with only an interrupting gasp or snicker here and there. He even complied rolling the pants’ leg to treat the most of his injuries from his ankles and legs.

You kept chatting with him, at first trying to make small talk, asking him about basic stuff like his thoughts on the building and dull topics, that sooner than later turned to events on Loki’s life. Going on about his sabotaging acts against humanity throughout history.

“… Okay, okay! But how did you keep convincing Switzerland to keep invading Liechtenstein?”

“Simple darling,” he bragged, “give them a —ehehe— give them enough time to forget, and make soldier get lost– hehe... enough.”

“But out of all the Realms what did you have against earth?” you chuckled. “You seemed to always pick on them quite a lot.”

“Surely you’d do the same to the planet the popularized the myth that you screwed a horse” Loki excused himself.

“Aww, no they didn’t” you grinned, “the horse did you, or should I remind who was the mother?”

Loki let out an undignified gasp as you burst out laughing.

“Oh, that’s low, even for a time bureaucrat” Loki said, with a smile he found himself incapable of suppressing.

He wouldn’t be caught dead saying it, but he actually liked this side of you, you seemed much less stiff than when you arrived, and… it was cute. Your nose scrunched up and your shoulders bounced at the pace of that stupidly self-satisfied laugh.

Who knows how long you two went on like this, often forgetting that you were here to cure him and just immersing in the conversation. And still… before he noticed, you had finished and were buttoning up his jumpsuit.

“There, it wasn’t so bad, was it?” you teased him.

The person now sitting before him seemed completely different to who walked in. More relaxed, witty, sarcastic, and funny.

“You are the worst nurse...” he grumbled, but there’s a clear note of pleasure in his voice.

“Ohoho... You just love getting yourself in trouble, your majesty” you gave him a last tickle on side before standing up. “Now all you need is time to heal.”

Loki stares up at your, breathing heavily after your last tickling. He’s still trying to keep a straight face when he speaks but it’s impossible. He lets out a tiny breathless laugh, and he sits up fully, and his head just drops back into the couch in mild exhaustion. His breath speeds up a bit and the smile on his face turns into a wide, toothy grin.

“Yes, doctor” he smiled cockily.

“I’ll bring you a clean uniform so you can take a shower and freshen up.” You said as you walked to the door, “You should be a… large, given how tall you are…” you offered gently. “You rest for a bit. I’ll take care of it.”

The way your hospitality moved him was scary. But Loki’s temper just subdued.

“I... thank you...” he said, almost in a whisper, “for everything.”

You looked at him. And for a moment, Loki would’ve sworn something in your gaze faltered, it looked almost regretful. But it vanished to that warm inviting smile you had earlier.

“Welcome to the TVA” you smiled.

| Masterpost |