#messages from your ancestors

[numinously-yours]

Pick a Card: Messages from an Ancestor

I'm back with a free reading! The most popular vote on my latest poll was messages from an ancestor. I have four groups for you to choose from. Each group has it's own message from your ancestor, as well as information about 1) who they are 2) what they want you to know and 3) advice they want to give you.

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CW: Pile 4 does talk about the passing of a young relative (not many details, but it felt a little heavy to write and it felt like the right call to let you know)

Who is this ancestor?: Seven of Coins

This card is feminine energy. For some reason, I really am getting single, aunt vibes lol I think this person is passed on, perhaps a few generations ago. People around them at the time may have thought this person’s way of living was going against the grain. This person may have been judged for not taking the traditional “courtship, marriage, kids” route in life. But, they flourished in what they did do. They enjoyed being solitary and taking care of things around them. They could have been a caregiver for a family member or they had animals and plants that they considered their babies.

What do they want you to know?: Two of Swords rev.

This card really fits the idea of feminine energy and going against the grain. I think this particular ancestor is coming around to remind you to listen to your intuition and take care of yourself. You might be feeling stuck right now. You want to please everyone but, no matter what decision(s) you make, you feel like someone is going to be let down. As someone who took their life into their own hands, this ancestor wants you to know that it IS possible to succeed and flourish when you choose yourself.

What advice do they have?: The Moon rev.

Their advice to you is to liberate yourself from fears and anxieties about making the “wrong” choices. You know that you know the right answer and it’s taking that plunge that is the hardest thing. Once you do, though, the weight off of your shoulder is going to lift and you’re going to feel so much lighter. If you are feeling like you don’t know the answer, take some time to meditate or use divination tools (tarot, oracle cards, etc.)

What message do they want to leave you with?: The Star rev. & Ten of Swords rev.

“Trusting yourself will lead you to revitalization”

Pile two: first I wanted to note that during your reading, I was listening to ambience music. The song that was playing as I started to shuffle was called Ellis Island which I thought was neat! If you aren’t familiar with Ellis Island, it was the business center for immigrating into the United States from 1892 through 1954. Many people’s ancestors came to the US through Ellis Island which makes it quite perfect for an ancestorial reading 😊

Who is this ancestor?: Ten of Cups

For this, there is a father figure coming through. The ten of cups is about the contentment surrounding relationships and family. My first thought was “a person who created the family line”. This could be a father, grandfather, great-grandfather, etc. Based on the song above, it could be the grandfather-figure that first came to your current country (US or not).

What do they want you to know?: King of Pentacles

I really think this ancestor is here to tell you how proud they are of you. They see the hard work and dedication you put into your goals. They see the power that you wield in your everyday life. They really think you’re doing awesome and know that you have nothing but success ahead of you.

What advice do they have?: Five of Pentacles & Three of Wands rev.

Don’t let your lack of resources slow you down. Of course, you need resources to move forward with some tasks, but there is still progress possible without money or other tangible resources. You don’t have to go too far out of your comfort zone, but they want to remind you that you are smart enough to take “safe” chances. You’ll know in your gut if a particular situation will put you behind in a negative way or if it will help you take baby steps. Baby steps are still progress!

What message do they want to leave you with?: The Hanged (Wo)man – this deck uses the hanged woman for the hanged man card*

“New perspectives create new opportunities”

Who is this ancestor?: Queen of Coins

This ancestor is likely a maternal one – a mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, etc. This person was likely a single parent for most of their family’s life. Either the spouse passed away or they left early on. This person worked their butt off to provide for their family. They tried very hard to leave work at work so that they could enjoy their time away from work and focus on their children. From an outsider’s perspective, your ancestor seemed to pull this off without a hitch.

What do they want you to know?: Justice rev. & Page of Wands

It feels like this ancestor wants to explain why you had to absorb generational trauma from their offspring (your parent or your grandparent who passed it onto your parent). I think that you are trying to break some cycles. This ancestor knows you were dealt a hard hand with the parents/guardians you got. They love their child(ren) but know they can be stubborn, unkind, and ignorant. They want you to know that they really did try their hardest. Being a single parent was difficult, especially during the years they were around. It was hard providing adequate attention to all the kids all the time. They tried as the kids got older to teach them new lessons, help them understand their mistakes, and help them understand this ancestor’s mistakes, but it feels like it was too late to change. This person also wants you to know that the person in your life that you’re trying to break cycles from tried their best (most of the time). They got tripped up but, overall, they really wanted to make the best life for you. This ancestor hopes you understand and can give grace. But, they also want you to know that they don’t expect blind forgiveness and are not trying to make excuses for anyone’s behavior.  

What advice do they have?: Two of Wands

As you seek to break cycles, move forward, and basically “start over” (aka parent yourself, prep for your own family, etc.) this ancestor wants to advise you to create plans of attack. They are SO proud of you for breaking away from this but want you to be cautious with moving too quickly. Determine what it is you want, then plot out general plans of how to get there. You can absolutely take some spontaneous action as you move forward, but this ancestor wants to make sure, as a whole, you set yourself up to succeed.

What message do they want to leave you with?: Three of Coins

“Use what you have learned from others, good or bad, to propel you”

Who is this ancestor?: The Fool

The ancestor coming through has young energy. I think they are a child or young adult who has passed on. The reason for their passing may have been from doing something reckless/not being careful enough. They may also be from a place that speaks French. When I picked the deck I used, I didn’t remember that the words were in French until cards started  coming out. It feels like “this tarot deck was meant to be read for this specific pile.”

What do they want you to know?: The Magician

Even though their life was not as long as anyone would have hoped, they had the best time living it. They saw the world as their oyster, and they want you to know the world is YOUR oyster. Life is too short not to move forward with your ideas. It’s too short to spend it doing things you don’t enjoy. Your experience with life up until now has given you so many tools you can use to your advantage to create the best life for yourself. They want you to know that the world is at your fingertips.

What advice do they have?: Strength

They want you to know the difference between a gut reaction and your intuition sending messages. Always check in with your inner voice/intuition when making decisions. Allow your head and your heart to work together. If something feels off, then it’s off. If something feels good, then go for it. This person wants you to enjoy your life and have fun, but they also want you to do it smartly.

What message do they want to leave you with?: Wheel of Fortune

“Life happens, but you’re allowed to control the roads you take along the way.”

[phantomrose96]

The alt-right's foothold into Gen-Z is frustrating and I can see from over here how they're doing it.

You've got a generation of young-adults who are learning to be adults for the first time and for so many of them it sucks. It sucks to be in your first shitty apartment where things break, and to have your first shitty car that needs maintenance, and to be working a low-paying service or retail job where you get berated all day and barely scrape by. And you go home and you have taxes to figure out and electric bills to figure out and a screen on your phone to rot into to destress.

And this is men and women, equally, in this spot. But the alt-right messaging gets to tailor their approach to gender.

And hey women, yes you working a shitty job for shitty pay, overwhelmed by financial responsibilities and car repairs, what if you actually didn't need to do ANY of that? You don't need to. And you don't need to feel guilty about it. (You're not quitting, you're not being lazy), you actually are just embracing the chance to be exactly who an ideal woman should be. You should actually be beautiful, and demure, and barefoot in a sunny kitchen, glowing, pregnant, hearing the joyful sounds of your children while you bake a roast for your wonderful husband (strong, protective, loves you, handles the finances, handles the jobs, handles all the things you hate). OUR ancestors (don't mind the dogwhistle) did this for GENERATIONS, and modern society has failed you instead!

It's offering to break women out of all the parts of their real life that suck, and do it in a way that promises they're actually being better, being more admirable, more moral, more respectable, more correct, can feel good about, can feel proud about, as a Woman as Feminine as Mother as Goddess.

And the thing being promised does not need to actually reflect reality. It's a fantasy. It is not real. For every "beautiful demure barefoot" day, you'd be having another one covered in shit changing diapers of screaming infants with screaming children while your husband ignores you because it's Women's Work (take pride!) But that doesn't matter. It just needs to sound better than the reality they're living.

Then the men are targeted too. And it's the same in that it's getting to them by appealing to pride in their gender, but the messaging is different. It's "those finances are hard but ACTUALLY you're leveling up, you're grinding, you're finance maxing." It's hard but it's the kind of hard that is a challenge you can WIN at, boast about, post about, prove your manliness. Knowing cars, knowing home repairs, knowing taxes, that's your MAN pride, and you are so elite, you are so sigma, you are the envy of everyone, you are a masculine man. Women love you. Women will defer to you. Strong, respected, moral, loyal, unshakeable. Unlike those pansy men (mind the homophobic dogwhistling) who will whimper and cry like girls. You are better.

The shitty retail job is actually humble beginnings because you're minmaxing your way to financial success (bitcoin, crypto, investments). You can sleep with any woman you want as long as you're confident, and then you'll find one who understands how smart and confident and strong and protective you are and she will defer to you as her man. She will birth your children and teach them good morals and you will make it. Our ancestors lived this way for generations (dogwhistle) and modern society took it from you.

And with that messaging it makes it clear who the enemy in all this is - modern society that has convinced women to torture themselves with high education and terrible jobs, turned them Ugly with Ugly opinions and bad hair and nasty attitudes, yelping about "rights" and "equality" (pitting them against men! TAKING things from men!) All the while, society has been trying to emasculate men--replace them with women, make them soft and emotional, make them gay, make them WEAK. We've been made WEAK.

The naive women hearing this go "I'm not ugly! I don't hate men! I DO hate my job and my finances. I've been tricked. I'm actually rebelling by declaring my goal is to get a Perfect (White) (Christian) moral husband who will make all our decisions and protect me and our children." (And when she's financially trapped in an abusive marriage...? When she's suicidal with PPD but her husband won't touch that because it's Woman Hysteria...? And when her husband leaves her for someone who was as hot as she was 20 years ago and now she's figuring out finances, health care, taxes, bank accounts for the first time in her life...?)

And the men go "They've been TAKING things from us for too long! It's time to be men again! It's time to take pride! I am strong and confident. I am in charge! I never show weakness!" (And when he's got a gun to his head due to the depression he's never been allowed to talk about as Women Feelings...? And when he's financially ruined from a crypto scheme that stroked his ego and robbed him blind...? And when he's dead from alcohol poisoning and none of his adult children notice because no one's spoken to 'Dad' in 15 years...?)

And it's so hard to fight because you're arguing against a fantasy. How do you disprove their fantasy? It's so hard to explain to them, hey you're working a shitty job where you have no future because the rich bastards took it all from you. And now you're doing their work for them. You hate society because of what they've done to it and now you're doing their work. Now you're targeting groups who've never done anything to harm you and the guys responsible are laughing to the bank. How do you explain? How do you disprove fantasy?

[kaleidoscopic-quiddity]

i know i shouldnt be suprised but sinners being out for less than a week and already tumblr is fandomifying and 'poor wet pathetic cat'-ifying the main white man villain of the movie is so... disapointing??? like did the fucking point of the movie really go over your heads that badly or are you just willingly ignorant and stupid?

AND BEFORE ANYONE STARTS; im not saying you cant like remmick, he's a very interesting character, a great villain, and jack o'connell gave a great performance playing him, nor do i care if you think hes sexy, I think hes sexy

but i think to come out of a movie where vampires serve as a metaphor for how black american communities have the life sucked out of them by white people via cultural appropriation (remmick wanting to use sammie's gift to summon his own ancestors) and forced assimilation (all the turned vampires singing and dancing along with remmick's irish folk song and dance juxtaposed with the blend of cultures during sammie's song in the juke joint) and for your main take away to be 'aww the main villain is just a misunderstood sadboy' or 'idc abt the atrocities he looked sexy doing them (when the atrocities in question were racism)' then youre just being so disengenuous and antithetical to the whole point of the film?

and dont come at me with the 'let people enjoy things' bullshit, sinners is a movie FUNDAMENTALLY about racism and racial dynamics in the united states, and i do think focusing on your little y/n x [whiteboy of the month] fics and 'hes so babygirl' posts do actually stunt your own critical engagement with the message this movie was trying to convey to its audience

i think its also a disservice to remmick's character; the moral nuance that comes to light when you consider his position as an irish immigrant to the US, a victim of the colonialist british empire just like the black main cast (although in a very different way) and how, whilst his desire to reclaim his ancestry and heritage is understandable and even relatable, his pursuit of sammie and willingness to kill literally everyone else at the juke joint is allegorical for how, regardless of their own marginalisation, white people will prey upon and steal from black culture(s) and destroy/disenfranchise black communities to serve their own interests, and the movie is NOT subtle about this either, delta slim literally lays it out for us "white folks like the blues just fine, they just don't like the people who make them"

idk im yelling into the void here, the ppl im complaining about are never going to give a shit about racism or even just critically engaging with art when theres a new cute whiteboy to write fluff and angst about, but its just soooo annoying to see, yet again, how fandom spaces, which SHOULD be about uplifing and celebrating art in all its diversity and complexity, once again is nothing more than people ignoring anything that actually makes them have to confront reality and filing off the serial numbers to slot characters into pre-determined fanon molds so they can pump out incorrect quotes and coffee shop AUs en masse until the media iliterate heat death of the universe

[sleepynegress]

Okay... So I'm in a way right now with the red tide and hormones..... But I did want to say some things about SINNERS while I have a little bit of mental energy.

Stack and Smoke are two sides of the same coin, yin and yang, red and blue, Italian and Irish gang clothing style... etc.

Some people are getting carried away with analysis and it's giving more projection of what you want it to be vs. what is.... Coogler himself has cited great fun tropey horror films and pop culture touchstones like Salem's Lot (the book not the movie) and Puss in Boots: The Last Wish (which I love that that's a reference) he has said his most important takeaway is "ownership of art."

The act structure that gave us that classic "caper" set-up of all kinds of characters listening to the plan and then going "you sonavabitch, I'm in." for the juke joint was my favorite part of this TBH.

It is NOT a Christian "Come to Jesus" movie and I LOVE that about it. In fact, it's the opposite.

It's a "be true to self and your gifts in the face of any god or devil", movie.

BOTH women love interests (white presenting and full-figured and unambiguously Black ,--back to that yin and yang of the twins) were beloved by a twin, both fit the elemental nature of said twin, and both had to traverse death to be with their love.

As an aside.... loved hearing a southern accent from our Asian cousins, seeing the "not my problem" energy from the Choctaw hunters, and the reminder that there was actual ancestral cultural community before "whiteness" for white people too, and why many no longer have it...

LOVED LOVED LOVED the cultural details in the character work, setting, energy, etc.... ESPECIALLY Delroy Lindo's vocal cadence.

I loved what Coogler chose to NOT show to make the energy more impactful and palpable in both sensuality and scares.

I'll be the weirdo who prefers the pure blues vs. the remix but I LOVED seeing all the ancestors and descendents come and vibe with the music...I used to have recurring dreams of a multicultural ancestral world jam session, so "that scene" hit me hard.

Remmick just follows in the tradition of Coogler villains being compelling af, but ultimately WRONG because of an essential flaw in their logic (i.e. Killmonger's misogynoir and colonizing techniques and funnily enough Remmick's colonizing techniques, klan and black using vampire telepathy for a faux community peace)

I have seen no one else mention this, but I chuckled at Saul "List of Demands" Williams playing the preacher, aka Sammie's dad

the vampire nerd part of me absolutely rejoiced at all the "traditional" vampire warding aspects, ESPECIALLY the silver, something that is often wrongly asserted as being just for werewolves

loved how filthy and raunchy the language was when it came to desire... because that's real (and I hate purity culture which is very much now tied to the alt-right white Christo-fascist pipeline right now) AND centering women's pleasure and, in many cases audacious initiative. (ahem, I see you Ryan and I see how Zinzi's in the current state she's in, congrats!! *cough* this is the healthiest type of straight man sexual energy BTW)

BE WARY of the takes out there that are overly-projecting. It's neither religious nor hotepy. It's a Southern Gothic fable/folktale about a musician with a gift surviving a magical night....

YES it's full of ancestral energy, but ultimately the central message is about being true to self when it comes to ancestral gifts and community

[whosashan]

Hi~ Love and DeepSpace girly here

Could you do hc's for the boys where MC is like. Later for dinner or something but before the bois can go and see what's up, MC sends them a text that's like

"Yea I'm gonna be late for dinner. Not sure how late, but I'll be there. I've been trynna find a way out of my room for like 20 minutes, but there's this very big bug between me and the door, and every time I move, it moves. When it flies its wings make this whirring noise akin to some vassal horror. We're locked at a stalemate, I'm at every disadvantage, and I wholeheartedly believe the bug is aware of this."

(I don't hate bugs or anything but this sounds so funny in my head)

BUGGED AND BELATED

PAIRING: Love and Deepspace men x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: You're trapped in your room, locked in a silent battle with a bug that’s far too aware of your fear. Every move you make, it counters. Every escape plan, foiled. Dinner will have to wait—this thing might actually win.

A/N: Thank you for the request. Hope you enjoy!

You were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago. Twenty. For a date. With a man you had just started seeing—a man you actually liked, which was rare enough to be considered a cosmic event. You wanted to make a good impression. Show up on time, looking effortlessly stunning, exuding charm and mystery. Just like the diva you were.

Instead, you were crouched behind a chair like a soldier in enemy territory, locked in a silent battle with a creature that had no business being this menacing.

The bug sat there, unmoving, yet radiating pure malice. To be honest, you couldn’t even tell what species it belonged to—somewhere between a beetle and a winged nightmare—but what you did know was that this thing was an opponent of the highest caliber. Every time you so much as shifted toward the door, it twitched, its wings lifting just enough to emit that sinister, high-pitched whirrrr.

And like a rational, fearless adult, you responded by screeching and diving right back into hiding.

This was a hostage situation. A Mexican standoff where only one of you had the advantage—and it sure as hell wasn’t you. The bug had taken control of the room, standing guard like a tiny, exoskeletal bouncer blocking your exit. If it had arms, you were certain they’d be crossed. Maybe even holding a clipboard with your name on the Do Not Pass list.

To be fair, you weren’t afraid of it, not exactly. It’s not like you thought it would launch an aerial assault and drag you into the vents. No, this was something worse. This was the principle of the matter. You were bigger. You were (presumably) smarter. You had evolved beyond your primal ancestors who once feared such creatures. And yet, here you were—hiding. Defeated. Outplayed by something a fraction of your size with the IQ of a rock.

It was a battle of wits, and the bug was winning.

You were moments away from accepting your fate, contemplating whether it was time to draft a farewell message to society—“Tell my date I died bravely in combat”—when your phone rang.

Loud. Sharp. Invasive.

The bug moved.

And so did you—by nearly launching yourself out of your own skin.

Xavier

You glanced at your phone, still flicking your eyes toward the bug every few seconds, refusing to trust the little menace. It had already robbed you of your dignity—you weren’t about to let it rob you of your life, too.

The screen lit up with a message from Xavier.

"You could've just told me if you didn’t want to meet today. I could be asleep right now instead of waiting 20 minutes for my date, who didn’t show up 😔👎"

You groaned, slapping a hand to your forehead. Great. Just great. His text was clearly teasing, but the guilt still hit like a truck. Xavier was sweet, kind, patient—all things you did not deserve while currently cowering behind a chair, engaged in psychological warfare with a bug.

You shot a death glare at your opponent.

The bug, as if personally insulted, spread its wings again with a menacing whirrr, as if to say "Do something about it, coward."

You squeaked and pressed yourself further into hiding. The sheer audacity of this thing.

Frustration bubbled in your chest, so overwhelming it almost made you want to cry. This was it. The bug had won. You were defeated.

Desperate, you called Xavier. He picked up on the second ring.

"Bug!" you shrieked—because apparently, that was the only thing your panic-ridden brain could muster.

Unfortunately, your enemy took offense to your attempt at reinforcements.

With an unholy BZZZZZZT, it lunged.

You screamed and made a break for it, sprinting toward the bathroom like your life depended on it—which, at this point, it probably did. You barely managed to lock the door before stuffing a towel under the gap to ensure the beast wouldn’t crawl its way in.

From the other end of the phone, Xavier’s voice came through, laced with concern. "Y/N?"

"Xavier! There’s a murderous bug in my apartment! It wants me dead! Oh my god—I'm too young to die!" you wailed, slapping your thigh in frustration.

Which, in hindsight, was a mistake.

"Ow."

You winced, rubbing the sore spot like an idiot.

There was a pause on the line before Xavier simply said, "I'll be there in a second."

You barely had time to process that before the call ended.

Outside, you could still hear the bug, hovering around like a tiny, winged executioner.

"Stupid bug," you muttered under your breath, arms crossed, sulking in your self-imposed exile.

A minute passed. Then—a knock on the bathroom door.

"Y/N?"

You practically leapt up, flinging the door open. Your eyes darted around the room, scanning for any signs of your sworn enemy before finally landing on Xavier.

“…Did you get rid of it?” you asked, breathless.

He simply nodded, expression unreadable.

For a moment, you could only stare at him—your knight in shining armor. And then, overcome with relief, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck like a lifeline.

"My savior!!" you cried, rocking the both of you side to side, your gratitude radiating off you in waves. For extra effect, you even pressed a dramatic kiss to his cheek before pulling back, hands settling on his shoulders.

Xavier was visibly flustered, the tips of his ears burning red. But there was also something else in his expression—a quiet, barely-contained laugh.

And then he did laugh. A soft chuckle, amused and way too smug for your liking.

He reached out, smoothing down your slightly disheveled hair. "You're adorable when you're terrified."

"Don't you dare laugh at me," you pouted, though the small smile on your lips betrayed you. "You don’t understand how bloodthirsty that thing was."

"Mm, sure," he mused, eyes gleaming. "But now that I’ve saved your life, and considering you did ditch me tonight…" He tilted his head, a mischievous smirk playing at his lips. "You’ll need to make it up to me."

You narrowed your eyes. "I’m going to kick you."

"Okay, okay—" He held his hands up in surrender, still grinning.

…You did end up baking his favorite cookies as a thank-you, though.

Zayne

You snatched up your phone with the urgency of someone fleeing an inferno.

“Is something the matter? We were supposed to meet 20 minutes ago,” Zayne’s voice was impossibly calm, though you could hear a hint of something softer underneath—a trace of disappointment, perhaps, that you weren’t there.

“Help!!! Me!!!” you wailed into the phone, your eyes fixed on the fiend in front of you. It was perched in the doorway like a guardian of doom. A creature so vile, it made your pulse quicken with panic.

You swore it was mocking you.

“Where are you? I’ll be there in five minutes,” Zayne responded, his tone laced with concern that might’ve been heartwarming if you weren’t currently engaged in a life-or-death standoff with an insect that seemed capable of understanding the emotional depths of human suffering.

“In my apartment... There’s a bug. It’s holding me hostage, Zayne, I’m not kidding. I can’t get out,” you explained, backing away slowly as the bug twitched. The sheer audacity of this tiny creature to hold you prisoner in your own home had you flabbergasted.

You could almost hear Zayne’s sigh through the phone, a mixture of concern and, dare you say it, disbelief. You could practically picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, probably contemplating the universe's cruel sense of humor. Was this how living a life by your side would look like?

“…I’ll be there in five minutes.”

You tried to wait. You really did. You took a deep breath, lifted a pillow, and threw it at the bug. It fluttered back, as if taunting you, and your confidence plummeted faster than the falling stock market. Next came the slipper, but that only made it angrier. You briefly entertained the idea of throwing the chair at it—seriously, what was the worst that could happen? But common sense prevailed.

Still, the bug didn’t relent. In fact, it seemed to be toying with you, edging closer with each passing second, its wings fluttering like the harbinger of doom.

And then, like a knight in shining armor—if that knight was slightly irritated and impossibly poised—Zayne entered.

He didn’t knock. He didn’t need to. He knew you’d open the door for him.

The scene he walked into was something straight out of a tragedy, but it lacked the nobility and grandeur. You were cornered like a mouse by a cat. The bug sat there, wings spread in a challenge. You, in your finest cornered-animal panic, clutched the edge of the couch as if it could save you.

Zayne surveyed the situation, his brows knitting in disbelief. The word “seriously” almost visibly hovered over his head. He muttered something to himself under his breath—something along the lines of “A grown adult, reduced to this…” and grabbed the slipper you had unsuccessfully used in your battle. With one deft movement, he swatted the bug dead.

It was over. The monster was slain. You were free.

He turned to you, expression still a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

“Are you… Are you quite finished?” Zayne asked, his voice a low, cultured lilt, tinged with something that could almost be construed as amusement. His gaze flicked to the corner where you’d been backed into, and then back to you, who was now clinging to his arm like your life depended on it.

"Oh, thank God you're here," you sighed, utterly dramatic, “I thought I was going to perish in this apartment, alone and forgotten, just me and the bug in an eternal standoff!” You fluttered your eyelashes at him with all the flair you could muster, trying to inject some levity into the situation, though your chest still heaved in relief.

He blinked, visibly softening, but his voice remained stern, a tad patronizing as he gave your cheek a light pinch.

“You and your antics. Unbelievable,” he sighed, shaking his head. “What on earth possessed you to try and fight the insect with a pillow?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” you huffed, pouting as you gripped his arm tighter. “That thing had too much intelligence—I’m telling you, it was strategic.” You let out a dramatic sigh, as though recounting the tale of a great hero's struggle. “But, I’ll make it up to you. You’re my hero, after all.”

A sudden mischievous gleam flickered in your eyes. “How about I treat you to a massage for those tired, heroic muscles of yours?” you said, raising an eyebrow playfully, leaning in just enough to make your intentions clear.

Zayne raised an eyebrow in return, his lips twitching into a small but unmistakable smile. “A massage, hm? How very… unconventional of you,” he said, the hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “And here I was, expecting a thank you cake or perhaps a trophy for my valiant deeds.”

“I’ll bake you cookies later,” you said with a wink, already turning toward the kitchen. “But right now, I’m focused on making sure you aren’t walking around with tense shoulders from saving me from certain doom.”

Zayne’s smile softened, his eyes glinting with fondness as he crossed his arms. “Well, I suppose there’s no point in disobeying you now, is there?” He reached up and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his voice soft but teasing.

You grinned up at him. “But if that thing ever shows up again…” you glanced at the now-dead bug lying on the floor, “we’re going to need more than just a slipper.”

You smiled to yourself. The bug was defeated, your date was salvaged, and Zayne… well, Zayne was a keeper.

Rafayel

Your phone was practically drowning in notifications from Rafayel. Each ping was more insistent than the last, almost like he thought you were hiding under a rock and couldn't see them.

"Where are you??" "I've been waiting for you for like, an hour now." "The audacity. I'm leaving. Fishes would start walking faster than you would get here." "AND you're not replying." "I'm this 🤏 close to blocking and reporting you."

You groaned, every word a reminder of how you were literally about to die at the hands—or wings—of a bug. You cursed under your breath and, with all the dignity you could muster, typed back: "House. Bug. Come!!!!!" That was all the energy you could spare before the creature—an absolute demon with wings—flapped them in your direction. Your heart skipped a beat. You dove behind the couch, praying it didn't have night-vision, or a complex plot to kill you slowly.

Your phone pinged again.

And again.

And again.

You didn’t dare check it—no, not while the little monster was hovering like it was plotting your demise. It was a battle of wills now, and you weren’t about to let your phone ruin your chance of survival.

You grabbed the nearest weapon: your expensive perfume. Maybe, just maybe, a spritz of it would do the trick. You aimed it like a champion—but the bug? The bug didn’t even flinch. Instead, it got more aggressive, flapping its wings with a smirk, if bugs had expressions. And the worst part? You just wasted your last drop of your favourite, expensive perfume. A tragedy on all fronts.

With no other options left, you waited for salvation. Where was anyone when you needed them? What kind of sick joke was this? How could you be outsmarted by an insect?

And then, the sound of footsteps. Hallelujah.

It was Rafayel.

You couldn’t decide whether you were filled with relief or utter terror. Was he here to rescue you? Or was he about to bail on you and leave you in a dramatic, bug-induced death scene worthy of a low-budget horror flick?

The door swung open with zero drama—Rafayel just barged in. He saw you, crouched behind the couch, practically whispering to yourself like you were in a hostage situation. His eyes immediately locked onto the bug, and for a second, time stopped.

His mouth opened, and you could practically hear the gears in his head turning before he spoke: “You are so in trouble right now, young lady. I—”

But then, the bug made a dramatic entrance. It flapped its wings in a show of pure, unadulterated confidence, like it knew it had just broken Rafayel's spirit. Rafayel froze, his eyes widening in horror, and within seconds, he was out the door, like a man running from a natural disaster.

“Rafayel! Don’t leave me here, you fish!” You whined, your voice pitched high in a way that made you sound like you were either five years old or on the verge of a mental breakdown. You weren’t sure which one it was.

The bug flapped its wings once more, mocking you. It was taunting you. You were being outwitted by something with a brain smaller than a grain of rice.

“I am not coming in there unless you get rid of this disgusting thing!” Rafayel’s voice came from the safety of the hallway, an unmistakable whiny tone in his words. He was refusing to enter, as if you had just asked him to enter a lion’s den while wearing a steak costume.

“You’re a fish! Don’t fishes eat bugs??” You groaned, still peeking out from behind the couch like a small animal in danger of being eaten alive.

“I have never been more insulted in my entire life,” Rafayel shot back, his voice dripping with melodrama. "Never in my—"

Before he could finish his Oscar-worthy speech, the bug made a beeline straight toward him. It was clearly hunting him now, and if you could hear its evil little thoughts, you were sure it was laughing at him. Rafayel yelped in sheer terror, darting behind the door like a child avoiding a splash of water.

“Take it away from me!!” He whimpered, his voice cracking in an almost comical way. If this were a reality show, this would definitely be the most embarrassing moment of the season.

You rubbed your temples in exasperation. This was fine. Everything was fine. Sure, your dignity was shattered. Sure, Rafayel was now questioning your survival instincts. Sure, you were the one who brought a broom to a battle that required grit and determination. But you were ready. It was time to defeat the beast. You needed to. After all, you couldn't get slain by the monster. you still had the whole Lemuria to repopulate.

“If I die right now,” you muttered to yourself, glaring at the bug like it was the villain in the movie of your life, “just know… I think your cooking’s actually terrible. And I once purposefully placed a brush next to your bed so you would slip on it. And—”

You were cut off by the sound of the bug’s wings buzzing, louder and more threatening than ever.

You grabbed your broom with the determination of a warrior and—without hesitation—charged. You swung it like a sword, taking out all your frustrations in one glorious, wild swipe. The bug was in mid-flight, doing its best to dodge your clumsy strikes, but eventually, victory was yours.

The demon bug, defeated, fluttered weakly out the window, and you stood, panting, broom still held high, like you’d just slain a dragon.

And then—silence.

You turned to Rafayel, still holding the broom like you were the hero of the story, waiting for your applause. But no. Instead, he stood there with his arms crossed, his lips pressed into a disapproving frown.

“You did WHAT?” he asked, the disbelief in his voice thick enough to spread on toast.

And in that moment, you realized—you’d won the battle against the bug. But now, a greater danger awaited you - an angry fish.

Sylus

You barely had time to register the sound of your phone ringing before bam, your door was obliterated like it was made of cardboard.

There stood Sylus, a whirlwind of concern and urgency, his brow furrowed, eyes scanning the room with that signature intensity.

He must’ve assumed you were in immediate danger, and, well... he wasn’t entirely wrong.

You were hiding behind the chair, poking your head out like a startled meerkat, a wave of relief washing over you at the sight of him. Sylus, your towering savior. The person who could fix anything, even the most horrifying of circumstances.

The bug, though? It seemed just as startled as you, its wings twitching nervously as though it could sense Sylus’s unyielding presence in the room. If bugs could feel power, this one was now thoroughly aware of its impending doom.

You almost giggled to yourself. Game over for the bug.

Sylus, meanwhile, stood frozen in the doorway, his gaze shifting between you and the bug with an expression that could only be described as... confusion.

"Kitten, what’s the matter?" His voice had that smooth, no-nonsense tone, but there was a definite edge of concern hidden beneath the sternness.

You pointed dramatically at the bug on the floor, your finger trembling slightly as you did. You could feel your pulse racing, that primal fear creeping back. Sylus’s eyes followed your outstretched arm to the bug, then shifted back to you, his expression unreadable. He took a beat, processing the situation. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he deadpanned:

"You’re not actually serious, are you?"

You couldn’t even muster a comeback. Instead, you whined, ducking further behind the chair as the bug flapped its wings once again, preparing for round two.

"It’s trying to kill me!" You squeaked, clutching the chair as though it were your only line of defense against the monstrous thing that was quite literally the size of your thumb.

Sylus’s gaze lingered on you. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—was it disbelief? Amusement? Maybe a little bit of both. He stood there, dead silent, taking it all in. And then, to your horror, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

"Sylus, wait!" You squeaked, your voice rising with panic. The bug was closing in! Would your hero really leave you to face your untimely death at the claws—or wings—of this vile creature?

But just as quickly as he’d left, Sylus returned, striding in like the cavalry had just arrived. In one hand, he held a can of bug spray. No grand entrance, no dramatic speeches, just a weapon of mass destruction for your foe.

Without another word, he unleashed the spray like a warrior wielding a sword of justice, a small but fierce hiss filling the air. The bug’s frantic wing-flapping turned into a lazy, defeated flutter as it crumpled into oblivion.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, cautiously peeking from behind the chair, making sure the battle was truly over. The bug was definitely down for the count. You waited another second, just to be sure, then, with all the grace of a startled deer, you leapt from your hiding place and ran straight into Sylus’s arms.

Without missing a beat, you buried your face in his chest, wrapping your arms around him as though he were your personal superhero—because, in this moment, he definitely was.

"Thank you, my hero!" You chimed, looking up at him, your voice a mixture of gratitude and—okay, maybe a little bit of dramatics. But could you blame yourself? It was a near-death experience.

Sylus’s face didn’t shift much, but his lips curled up at the edges in that trademark sly smirk of his. Oh, here it came.

"My, my... Whatever shall I do with you?" His voice was smooth, filled with an undertone of amusement as his hands slid around your waist, pulling you in closer, his presence overwhelming and comforting all at once.

You couldn’t help but giggle, your heart still racing from the excitement of it all. “Whatever you wish, oh my savior.” You batted your lashes dramatically, trying—and failing—to hold back a grin. "But first, let's get this dinner! All this near-death experience made me starving!"

With that, you grabbed his hand and began tugging him toward the door like a child dragging their parent to their favorite amusement park. Sylus followed, his chuckle rumbling through his chest as he matched your pace.

“As you wish, my lady,” he replied, his voice warm and amused.

“Oh, and by the way, you need to replace my door. You did kinda knock it down.” You gestured at the gaping hole in the doorway, now very much ruined by his heroic entrance.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I can just buy you a new house.”

“No,” you said flatly, shaking your head with conviction. “Not a new house. Just the door. And maybe some new furniture to match the hole you made.”

Caleb

You ignored your phone's ringing for now - afraid to move your gaze away from the bug.

You'd tried everything: pillow throws, shoe swats, even a half-hearted attempt at swatting it with a hairbrush. But every time you tried to inch your way to the door, the thing flapped its wings with an eerie, almost taunting precision. You were fairly certain it was actively laughing at you. The worst part? You couldn’t figure out what it even was—was it a cockroach? A beetle? No, it had the terrifying charisma of a tiny dragon.

At this point, your phone was pinging like crazy, full of messages from Caleb.

"Where you at, babe? :P" "You good? 😬" "Okay, I'm seriously starting to get concerned. Did you get abducted by aliens? XD" "Or worse... did you bail on me??"

You groaned, knowing you had to respond. With one eye on the bug (now doing an actual flyby of your head), you typed out a frantic reply: "Bug. Help. Please. I’m literally being held hostage."

The "send" button clicked just as the beast made a bold move toward you, sending you diving behind the couch. You muttered something obscene under your breath, praying to whatever higher power existed that Caleb would get the message.

You heard the front door creak open, and the sound of footsteps entering your apartment. Caleb’s unmistakable voice rang out immediately.

"You alive in there, or did you get eaten by a mutant insect?" His tone was teasing, light, but you could hear the hint of concern buried underneath it.

The moment you saw his face peeking around the corner, you almost burst into tears, then immediately regretted not thinking of this sooner—why hadn't you just called him earlier? This was a disaster.

"There!" You pointed shakily at the bug, now circling you like a demented helicopter, "It’s... it's trying to kill me, Caleb. Please get rid of it before I lose my mind."

He looked at the bug, then back at you, arching an eyebrow. "So, you're telling me this... thing has been keeping you hostage for 20 minutes? I’d say I’m impressed, but also... I’m honestly a little offended you didn’t call me earlier."

You shot him a pleading look. “I didn’t want to bother you! Plus, I thought I could handle it myself, but clearly—" you gestured at the bug dramatically, "—I was wrong."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I’ll take care of it. But you owe me one for this. You owe me big time."

As if on cue, the bug lunged towards him, its wings buzzing aggressively.

"Look at this thing, Caleb! It knows I’m weak!" you shouted, half laughing, half panicking. You watched him as he calmly reached for the nearest object—a broom—before striding toward the creature like a true warrior.

"Relax, pipsqueak. I’ve got this." His voice was smooth, dripping with that signature teasing tone, but there was a flicker of protectiveness in his eyes. You knew he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.

With one swift motion, he shooed the bug out of your apartment, making sure it was well and truly gone before turning to you with a satisfied grin.

You practically threw yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Oh my god, Caleb. Thank you. I would’ve died in here if it wasn’t for you.”

He chuckled softly, his lips brushing the top of your head as he held you tight. "You owe me, sweetheart. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. I came here expecting a romantic evening, not to play exterminator." His hand gently ran through your hair, a soft gesture of care that made your heart flutter despite everything.

"I’ll do anything," you said, your voice a little too serious.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Anything? Hm, we might need to revisit that offer later, but for now..." He paused, leaning back to look you over. "I think we can still salvage the evening. After all, we’ve got the whole night ahead of us, right?"

You smirked, playfully brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "Yeah, and you’re not getting out of dinner that easily. You still owe me a real date after this."

He laughed, pulling you closer. "Alright, alright. But just so you know, next time, I’m sending you a bug-catching kit as your official starter pack for dating me. You’ve been warned."

You couldn’t help but grin, a weight finally lifting from your shoulders as you found yourself safe in his arms.

"And Caleb," you said, trying to hide a mischievous smile, "You look hot when you move around with a broom."

[heritageposts]

if you support israel right now, you're supporting the extermination of the palestinian people.

it really is that simple.

this isn't a 'complicated conflict,' it isn't a situation that 'requires nuance,' it's not a 'geopolitical event' that requires us to condemn the 'bad actors' on 'both sides.'

it's a genocide.

there is no 'nuance' to be had here. it's a genocide, committed by the israeli state against the palestinian people, and it's happening right now as we speak. you don't have to infer anything: israel has openly, with next to no pushback from so-called liberal democracies, cut off gaza's access to water, food and electricity. that's more than two million palestinians denied even the basic necessities for life. a million of them, children.

what is that, if not a genocide?

and that's only the latest escalation. we could go all day, listing the atrocities the palestinian people have been subjected to. the killings, the beatings, the children sexually abused in detention center, all the hospitals and ambulances being blown up, videos of palestinians being heckled by settlers as they're driven from their homes, israelis gathering on hilltops to cheer as their military drops bombs on gaza...

but all westerns want to talk about, is hamas.

because the murder of palestinians by the IDF is status quo; it doesn't affect them. what's one more dead palestinian but a statistic? but if hamas has killed a handful of israelis — if they've go as far as to even kill babies — then that justifies the extermination of two million palestinians, children and infants included.

westerns will even say that the palestinians brought it on themselves; that they should have know that a drop of israeli blood requires a river in return.

and just so we're clear, you don't have to like hamas. but when you equate hamas with the IDF, when you derail every conversation by demanding a condemnation of 'both sides,' or when you, god forbid, agree that israel is justified in dismantling hamas — which, as israel themselves have outlined, will involve the complete destruction of gaza and the murder of hundreds of thousands of civilians — then either wake up, or own up to the fact that you're a participant in the extermination of the palestinian people.

do you think i'm being harsh? then imagine how it's like living under constant aerial bombardment. with no food, no water, no electricity. constant air-raid sirens. a bomb, dropping every minute. never knowing a moment a peace, always wondering if today is going to be your last day, if you and your family are still going to be here tomorrow.

could you stomach living in gaza, for even a day? i doubt it.

and still, now, on the eve of what might be the ground invasion of gaza — with one million palestinians being told to flee, with nowhere to go — i'm getting messages from people who demand my sympathy... for israel.

well, you're not getting it.

i'm not even humoring your hand-wringing.

if you live in israel, and you're one of the ones who've turned a blind-eye to the suffering of the palestinian people, if you've fought for the IDF or tacitly supported them, if you've callously called upon the memory of the holocaust thinking the death and suffering of your ancestors would wash the blood of your own hands....

then yeah, i think you deserve every single hamas rocket lobbed at you and so much more.

[meenaxskz]

when he gets sick (maknae line)

ot8 reactions-drabbles | bf!skz x reader au genre: crack warnings: language a/n : i'm sorry i didn't mean for it to come so late after the hyung line sniff... but it was hard to come up with different new plots for each members. hopefully it's okay ! hyung line | ✧ maknae line

han

you find him dramatically starfished across the couch like he’s been defeated by a single sneeze. tissues everywhere. hoodie halfway on. hair sticking up like static electricity punched him in the skull. he sees the cough syrup and immediately goes “oh no. not today, satan.” you’re already tired and you haven’t said a word yet. “han jisung. you are sick. take. the. medicine.” “i already took medicine!” “no you didn’t.” “i took homeopathic medicine.” “…you sniffed Vicks and drank orange juice.” “AND I FELT SPIRITUALLY HEALED.” you deadpan. he sniffles. “don’t look at me like that, you judgmental nurse from hell.” you walk over. he backs up into the corner of the couch like you’re holding a weapon. technically you are. grape-flavored and vengeance-infused. “you’re gonna have to sedate me” he whispers. “because I’m not drinking that purple demon piss.” “it’s not even bad...” “then you drink it!!” “I’M NOT THE ONE MAKING DYING GOOSE NOISES IN THEIR SLEEP.” jisung makes a tiny offended gasp, like you just insulted his ancestors “I was wheezing cutely!” “you sounded like a haunted vacuum cleaner.” he slaps a tissue to his chest. “my own lover… turned against me…” you hold up the spoon. he crosses his arms like a gremlin. “no.” you sigh. you text chan. you hold the phone up so jisung can see the message: “if han jisung doesn’t take his meds in 5 minutes, i’m sending you the ‘meow meow sick boy’ compilation i’ve been collecting since 2022.” jisung stares in horror. “you kept archives??” “i am the FBI.” he mutters something about betrayal and capitalism but opens his mouth like a sulky baby bird. you pour the syrup in. he gags like you just poisoned him. “I CAN FEEL MY SOUL DYING” he howls, flailing. “I SEE THE LIGHT.” “that’s the kitchen light, dumbass.” you give him a juice box. he slurps it aggressively. “…i still get cuddles though, right?” “only if you don’t fake your death again.” he nods. “deal.” bonus: later that night, he’s fully passed out on your lap, warm from meds, holding your hand like a teddy bear. you go to grab your phone, and he sleep-mumbles: “…don’t post the meow meow archive… the people can’t know…” you smirk. too late.

felix

you’re standing in the living room, folding towels, living your boring domestic life in peace when you hear the softest, most suspiciously sweet little voice behind you go... “baby…” you already know. your soul leaves your body. you turn. he’s standing there in a hoodie three sizes too big, sleeves covering his hands, blinking like he’s never committed a crime in his life. “…what.” “c’mere” “why?” “just. c’mere.” you blink. you take one step forward. he immediately collapses into your arms. “i’m so tired…” “you slept eleven hours.” “emotionally.” you try to walk but he's wrapped around you like a weighted blanket. “felix i literally can’t fold towels with you hanging off me like a koala” “don’t need towels. need love.” you freeze. “…did you just say that out loud.” “i’m in my soft era.” he looks up at you, full puppy eyes, lips slightly pouty. “can i sit in your lap while you do stuff?” “i'm not a fucking booster seat” he climbs into your lap anyway. man is built like a cat with separation anxiety. “pet me.” “felix” “pet. me.” so now you’re sitting there one-handed folding laundry while your very adult boyfriend purrs into your hoodie and mumbles things like “you smell like safety.” and “you’re my lil mommy bear.” “okay nope. absolutely fucking not.” “my milky wuvy” “I’M GETTING THE SPRAY BOTTLE.” you try to push him off, he clings harder. “if you unlatch me, i’ll cry. real tears. emotional damage. 2007 trauma unlocked.” you freeze. “…why 2007.” “i watched Bridge to Terabithia and i’ve never been the same.” he pulls out the big guns. eyelash flutter. pout. baby voice. “can you scratch my back while i fall asleep and then play with my hair and tell me i’m special and maybe also feed me snacks?” you stare. “…do you wanna be babied or adopted.” “both.” bonus: 30 minutes later, you’re hand-feeding him popcorn on the couch, scratching his back, while he lays across your lap like a little prince. you mutter, “you’re so fucking spoiled.” he smiles sleepily. “and yet… so adorable.” you don't deny that...

seungmin

you walk into the living room with medicine and warm tea, and he doesn’t even look up from the couch. just sniffs dramatically and says, “look who finally decided to check on the dying.” “seungmin. it’s been 6 minutes. i went to boil water.” he shrugs. “a lot can happen in 6 minutes. i could’ve passed away. joined the spirit realm. you wouldn’t even know.” you stare. he stares back, wrapped in the blanket like a bitter old man on his front porch judging the neighborhood. “here” you hand him the tea. “…you think this will fix me?” “it’s ginger and honey.” “oh perfect. can’t wait to taste warm regret.” you sit next to him. he immediately leans just slightly away. “don’t get too close. i’m diseased. like a stray dog” “you’re being dramatic.” “i’m being accurate. my lungs sound like wet socks.” he coughs once. loudly. then looks at you like you personally caused it. “this is what happens when i go outside. i told you. the air is trying to kill me.” “you were at a café for fifteen minutes” “and now i’m paying the price for socializing.” he sips the tea. pauses. “…okay fine. this is kinda nice.” you smirk “wanna cuddle?” he slowly turns to you with a blank stare “…i’m infectious.” “yeah, but you’re also cute.” he scoffs. “disgusting. go date someone with a normal immune system.” you kiss his cheek. he doesn’t react, but his ears go red.he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear: “…love you too, idiot.” bonus: he wakes up from a nap on your lap, eyes barely open, voice raspy as hell. “did you cheat on me while I was unconscious.” you blink.“…what?” “you were scrolling suspiciously fast.” “i was on pinterest.” “mhm. planning your next relationship, probably.” you snort. “i was looking at soup recipes for you, dumbass.” he pauses.“…did you save any good ones?”

i.n

he’s laying on the bed, flushed, sniffling, and looking like a hot mess. literally. fever at 100.7. eyes glassy. shirtless. blanket only covering one leg for some reason. he sees you walk in with medicine and a cold compress and immediately grins like a little demon. “baby…” he rasps. “no.” “you don’t even know what I was gonna say.” “you were gonna say something disgusting and then try to kiss me with your sick-ass mouth.” “…okay yeah but in my defense i’m very charming when i’m near death.” you sigh, placing the medicine down. he props himself up, blinking slowly like he’s trying to flirt through actual respiratory distress “come here. i wanna kiss you…” “jeongin you’re going off to blow your nose.” he pouts, genuinely offended. “so what, you don’t wanna make out with your sexy little plague rat of a boyfriend??” “correct.” “wow. coward behavior.” he starts crawling toward you like a zombie but sexy??? his voice drops an octave,still congested, and he gives you his best sultry stare. “c’mon, baby. don’t you wanna… sweat together?” “…what the actual fuck.” you dodge when he leans in to kiss you. he stops mid-air. “did you just. DODGE me.” “yes because you’re sweating and breathing like darth vader and tried to lick my face five seconds ago” “THAT WAS LOVE LANGUAGE” he throws himself back on the bed like you rejected his marriage proposal. “i can’t believe this. rejected in my time of need.” you toss him the cold compress “cool your horny little forehead.” he mumbles under his breath while placing it on his face“if i die tomorrow, just know it was the heartbreak that got me, not the virus.” bonus: you go to check if he fell asleep. he lifts the compress just enough to say: “you still think i’m hot though, right?” you raise a brow. “…sick hot.” he smirks. “i’ll take it.”

⤷ main m.list ❟

DISCLAIMER : This blog and all related content (fics, fake texts, headcanons, imagines, etc.) are entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. I do not know Stray Kids personally, nor do I claim any of this reflects their real personalities, actions, or relationships. All characters and their personalities—including Meena King—are original creations.Please enjoy responsibly and remember : real people = real boundaries.

[saintshadow]

What abt you is being reflected back into the world around you?

PILE I

An elevated status or sense of authority, perhaps people are listening to you more- maybe even when they shouldn’t be. I think you are very detached & in return the world seems difficult to grasp. Could be Pisces or Aquarius energy here, it’s as if you are so far detached that you feel as if you cannot be perceived.

You are a person who gives and receives Good Will & blessings because these are the things you give in silence- people may not be aware of your charitable nature, the things you do to consider others or help those that society has deemed as unfit are almost a elevating you in a sense. I see that you are not afraid of the “weirdos”, you may be very charitable to those who are swept under the rug by society without batting an eye.

You listen & you care, and I feel that this is going to be reflected back to you or IS reflected back to you through gifts and blessings… BUT

It’s so weird- because it seems like there’s an inversion where you don’t give this same love to yourself- and so that same love you pour into the world will begin to come into you.

This message is a little sad, but your lack of self love reflects into the world around you as well. Your self hatred or self loathing, this may be why others seemingly loathe you as well. You are being taught a very hard lesson, and that lesson is self love. You may not have been loved properly as a child, or you were loved under specific conditions.

This lack of self love is being reflected to you through the disinterest, detachment, or avoidance of others.

The more you avoid yourself the more others will too.

Hope this helps pile 1, if you guys enjoyed this reading def hit me up for an in depth on this topic for 25$ 🥰

PILE II

Your creative abundance, your uniqueness- you may attract a lot of unique opportunities or cool experiences because of how you carry yourself. Life is art to you, and therefore life brings you artful experiences. Perhaps sometimes you feel as if life is confusing & difficult to conceptualize but this is okay-

That is part of the beauty, I sense water a very watery energy- there is so much love in this pile. A love for life, an inner light that bursts through the darkness with glee. You desire to free yourself from the confines and constraints of a world that does not encourage authenticity.

Sometimes it may rub people the wrong way, sometimes it has forced you to walk away from people, places, and things that you truly wanted- maybe you even convinced yourself you fumbled what was meant for you.

What is meant for you is to choose yourself, I feel like you have turned your life and your existence into a piece of art and that is what is being reflected into the world around you.

It brings you many experiences, lessons, and new ideas so that you may bring them to life.

You are a creator, and you are meant to bring to life the divine sparks that will occasionally flow through you.

For those who are single or struggling in love: You may feel as if nothing is permanent in love & as if you struggle to be still-

But I sense limerance, you miss someone- or you’ve yet to forgive someone. Love is there for you, there is someone. I promise 🥰 choosing yourself was the right option.

Hope this helps pile 2, if you guys enjoyed this reading hmu for an in depth on this topic for 25$ 🥰

PILE III

You may feel like you’re alone, or like others don’t take the lead. You could feel as if you don’t get the same breaks as other people do- like you have to work yourself to the bone and work a million times harder than others.

This isn’t to punish you, but this is because it’s your god given gift. You are a self starter, and you can absolutely rely on your spirit team for more assistance. Ancestral veneration Is very important for this pile- some of you need to be working with your ancestors or relying more on your spirit guides.

All of the inner healing, inner work, inner action youve been taking is reflecting into the world around you.

You may not see it yet, but the wind is catching your sails- and while there may be some unexpected detours but they will lead you in the right direction. You are an incredibly powerful soul, some of you may have been drawn to pile one. This feels like an evolved version of the second half of pile one.

You have finally chosen yourself, you are existing as the most honest hardworking version of yourself and the spirits are pleased. Your spirits may even be rejoicing because you are trying so hard.

As you show more interest in your dreams, more opportunities will come to you. Don’t be afraid of the coming change, for once the only thing you’ll lose is the old version of you.

A new beginning that is occurring within you is creating a new beginning in your physical life. 🥰

Hope this helps pile 3, if you guys enjoyed this reading msg me for an in depth on this topic for 25$ 🥰

[rose-maidenn]

Pick a card : Indications that you found your future spouse or they're around

Pile 1-2-3

Hey guys Hope you have been doing well , use your intuition to choose this , not everything will resonate , just take what does , hope you enjoy this one 🩷

If you do like this one and want more please check out my paid readings and masterlist

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ ི☘︎ ྀ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ ི☘︎ ྀ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ ི☘︎ ྀ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ ི☘︎ ྀ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ ི☘︎ ྀ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ

Pile 1 :

You will feel a strong connection to the jade stone . You will get more spam calls. There will be a new start in the financial sector , you will see that your finances are better or worse with an inclination towards the stock market . There will be unexpected gifts coming in from the person who is courting you , a cat maybe a car even , you might travel to the mountains . You will be very confident around them as if you can conquer the world . Might get into gym , weight lifting etc. Would fight an enemy . You will get violent downloads and premonitions , you might not even ask for them but they will come through. Will learn more about religion when they come in or when they're about to come in .

⠀⠀ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི

Pile 2 :

First of all your fs is older , someone who really takes care of you . Might start liking the colour pink even though you hated it for a while . Will see more snakes around especially one with copper or brown markings. You would get an earring , it will be dangling red with semi precious jewels . Might get into vintage dresses and sarees cause they like it idk it's like a new vibe to you . Some of you could be of the lgbtq community , you will go to a march together btw awwwww like a lot of community celebrations . Will find a shiny gold wand or a hair pin . You will be in the season of loss, mourning or detachment . This relationship will be well orchestrated by your elders or ancestors so for some of you there are chances of arranged marriage . You will recover with them , you're kind of hurt I trust you you will heal love .

⠀⠀ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི

Pile 3 :

Around that time you might experience a new adventure or sport . You might also have cold , have nasal blockage or eat very plain food . Might meet a lot of people with a star tattoo , you will apply lot of Alta when you will be meeting them . Might eat loads of carrots and leafy vegetables . The air around you is of fear and confusion, you seem tired as you have put your energy and effort into lot of useless people I get a message for you to channel the hurt you have been through. A nose piercing will be prominent btw. With the solar plexus and heart chakra card you will be into healing yourself heavy time . Might get into the principles of Buddhism , also check your ayurvedic body type , might be kapha .

⠀⠀ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི

Thanks for reading 🥰❤️

[pixiesndberries]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —

a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !

☆ OUR STARS : Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !

━ REQUESTED BY : none

━⁠ WARNINGS : none

ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : were back again at daily posting 🙏🏻 to my pookies who supported me, y'all made me giggle and kickin' my feet in my bed last night 👉🏻👈🏻 love lots!

GOJO SATORU, as your husband !

• Gojo being your husband is no different from being your boyfriend — he still gotta be that same person you dated few years ago, though he became more serious about situations and decisions because you guys are married but his goofy, annoying, clingy side is still there — I mean when he met you and been with you for like two weeks your caller name is already set as 'wifey'.

Gojo who totally acts like a mom when you leave for work, he is like a freaking HOUSEWIFE —

"honey!" he sings as he walks into the living room seeing you brush your hair Infront of the mirror, getting ready for work. "hmm?" you responded and quickly turns your head at him — he's wearing a this is what an awesome husband looks like apron which made you too stunned to speak, "I created a bento for you." he smiles as he hands out a nicely wrapped bento box which was really new to you because it's always you who keep creating bentos for him, usually when he leaves for a mission.

"thank you, honey." you say softly with a warm smile as you accept his bento that he specially created for you, he can't help but to feel like a love sick teenager seeing you smile like that. He officially takes the position of being a housewife 🫡

Gojo who couldn't stop talking about the future he wants with you like nonstop — this man would talk about having three million carbon copy of him with you and would name them after megumi, yuji, nanami and basically all of his friends, students, and dead relatives 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 — I FEEL LIKE HE GOTTA BE THAT TYPE OF PERSON.

Gojo always flexes you everyday and YOU are his hyper fixation — argue with the wall, he gotta be the type of man to say "she's my wife." randomly when he's talking to an old friend he haven't seen for a long time. HE WILL BE THE HUSBAND WHO YOU WILL SEE WEARING "I LOVE MY WIFE" TYPE OF SHIRT WITH THE UGLIEST FONT AND PHOTO TEMPLATE EVER. Once a person mentions your name he ain't gonna shut the fuck up.

I just know this marriage go'n be like Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively's relationship 🙏🏻 ABSOLUTELY RANDOM TEXTS FROM HIM, UPDATING YOU TOO MUCH.

2:32 pm

gojo : shitting at the mall cuz i don't have anywhere to shit on.

gojo : [sent an attachment]

gojo : i miss you my wife, my beautiful wife.

gojo : [sent an attachment]

gojo : [sent an attachment]

gojo : your very handsome husband ❤️

2:40 pm

you : stop spamming me messages love, im at work 🙏🏻

gojo : why? is it turning you on 😏

you : that's a photo of your feet.

Gojo who became a seriously hands on person when you told him that you're pregnant — when he has missions with yuji, megumi, or maybe nobara and you told him that you're very tired to do anything today he will be like,"okay kids, I got to go I have important things to do." and dashed away before they could say something and mf arrived at yalls house within a second.

Gojo who cried when he carry his baby for the first time, he was sobbing like hell — girl dad? boy dad? BRO HE IS BOTH ‼️ "okay we'll name this one suguru and this one-" he is going to come up with the most ridiculous names, probably the worst one was his dead ancestor.

okay seriously, Gojo would be a full time dad after his children were born — he will always stay at home as much as he can, having twins isn't easy plus he's trying to help you with his full power and make sure you don't feel alone through this.

"gojo.." you grumble as you felt his presence disappearing next to you at bed, you open your eyes and sees he wasn't there which led you to stand up and start looking for him — you walk out of the bedroom and noticed that the twin's bedroom door was open so you check it out.

in your suprise, gojo was in the rocking chair with the twin's in his arms peacefully sleeping and he is snoring like hell. You can't help but smile seeing this moment, it warms you heart. You quickly grabbed your phone and took a quick photo, this is what you exactly wished for.

Gojo who couldn't stop posting you and his little angels and his fans are absolutely living for it, it's like his day wouldn't complete without posting cute photos of his angels and of course, you as well. Gojo is indeed a Facebook mom —

; gojosatoru

tagged : @y/n.instagram | fam time 🤍 !

liked by megumi.22 and 8,957 others

itaaa.yuji | I volunteer as a tribute to babysit them 🫡

nobaraaa | CUTIES.

shokoleiri.7 | adorbs

─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!

[zorostitties]

Aurora; 5 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 7k

A/N: Hello people!!! I present you the longest chapter up until now. I don't even know how it got to this word count but I had a lot of fun writing it anyway!! OH MY GOD THAT'S A LOT OF NOTES Y'ALL 😭😭😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! This fic is receiving so much love both here and on AO3. I'm getting emotional 🥹🥹 Anyways!! Enjoy <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

Richter’s incessant talking was starting to piss Annette off.

She wasn’t going to tell him, obviously – not because she didn’t have the courage to do it. It was because she knew the reason for her annoyance wasn’t exactly Richter’s voice, nor the voices of the people around her.

It was the spirits’ voices.

They’d been… popping up incessantly ever since that moment at the clearing. Annette was used to seeing spirits to a certain degree; her connection to the other side was part of her powers, part of who she was, after all. She learned to not be afraid of them. She learned to accept her ancestors, to pay attention to their whispers and the messages they carried.

And yet… they’ve never been so restless like that.

Nor so noisy.

And certainly not so clear.

Back in Saint-Domingue, when Annette started to explore her powers, she’d often feel… presences. They caused goosebumps, whispered words in her mind. Sometimes, she’d have strange dreams that carried hidden meanings. When those occurrences became too frequent to be brushed off anymore, Annette opened up to Cécile. Her mentor then explained that it was not only normal, but a privilege; as her abilities blossomed, her ancestors would get closer to her – offering advice, warnings, and even reprimands when necessary.

With time, she started to see figures with the corner of her eyes. Silhouettes in the dark. They never scared her. She knew they were part of her family – just a glimpse of her large family tree, generations of spirits that went all the way to the other side of the ocean, staying beside her even after death… supporting her in her fight for freedom.

Well.

They were starting to scare her now.

Why did they look so angry? Why did they become so clear out of sudden? These weren’t just silhouettes anymore, she could see them as easily as Richter beside her. In fact, some looked so real that they could pass as any other living person; the only indicative that they didn’t belong to this world were the faint transparency of their bodies and the soft glow around them.

And worst of it all – she could not understand a word of what they were saying. Their whispers were unintelligible.

If these really were her ancestors trying to bring a message, why couldn’t they be clear about it?

...Were they even her ancestors? Were they even real? What if she got trapped in an enemy spell, causing her to see illusions?

Annette wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted to they them to shut up and leave her alone. Hell – she was all worried about Ruby earlier that day, as the girl seemed so distressed to be in a crowded city, and yet Annette herself wasn’t feeling much better than her at all.

The sensory overload was so bad that she didn’t see a prominent rock on the pavement and tripped on it, almost falling face down in the middle of the street.

Richter caught her in time.

His hand was quick to take her arm in a gentle, yet firm grip. His blue eyes were even rounder than usual. “Oh! Are you okay?”

The action brought Annette back to reality – and also brought back that feeling she was trying hard to ignore.

The girl straightened her position, stepping away from him rapidly. It was stupid how she already felt her cheeks heat up with such a simple touch of his… but it was becoming a frequent occurrence ever since she accidentally held his hand at the clearing, creating a bit of an… awkward situation for them both.

One more embarrassing thing these spirits made her do.

“Yes, thank you,” she brushed it off the best she could before she continued to walk.

If Richter noticed her reaction, he didn’t let it show. The Belmont boy let a tired sight. “I didn’t expect Paris would be this big,” he muttered tiredly. “I thought when he got here, we were practically at our destination. But… we’ve been walking for hours already.”

Annette had to agree. They’d been walking all morning and this Louvre palace was yet to reveal itself. She even wondered if Alucard was sure of where they were going; after all, she was aware that other palaces existed in Paris. What if Louvre wasn’t the correct one?

“You’re not familiar with Paris? I thought you’d been here before,” she asked.

“I’ve only been here once, and I didn’t stay for long,” Richter explained. “I was just taking care of Maria, to be honest. Not exactly safe to let a teenage girl roam a big city alone, you know, and especially not when she’s reaching out for revolutionaries. Maria gets in trouble pretty easily.”

He let a light chuckle, yet his eyes were saddened at the mention of Maria – and it tightened Annette’s heart just a bit. She knew he was carrying a lot of baggage with him this entire mission. The fight with Maria, Tera’s “death”, how he felt he didn’t help her and had to flee… and now the fact that he handed their destination to that damn vampire. The worst part – Alucard got mad at him.

As if she was reading his mind, Richter lifted his eyes and looked at the white-haired vampire’s back, walking many steps ahead of them with Ruby by his side. To be fair, after that moment at the forest, Alucard wasn’t being mean or cold to Richter (well, not colder than he already was, at least). It was very clear in Annette’s eyes how his anger wore off as hours went by. But Annette also knew that this didn’t ease Richter’s regret.

Annette lowered her voice, hoping Alucard wouldn’t hear her.

“You know,” she started quietly. Her tone caught Richter’s attention. “I don’t think he was that angry at you. I think he was angrier at himself for letting Ruby get hurt.”

Richter blinked. He also thought she was reading his mind. He pressed his lips together, lowering his head again.

“And he decided to lash out on me.”

“Well… it’s not like you didn’t give him a reason to.”

Richter pouted. “Aw, come on. I thought you were trying to cheer me up.”

Annette couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m sorry. But what I mean is… don’t dwell on it. Yes, what you did was silly, but to keep thinking about won’t help you.”

The Belmont boy went silent for a few moments. “Ruby told me the same thing.” He lifted his gaze, now looking at the young woman. “Hey, Annette… what do you think of her?”

Instinctively, she looked at Ruby’s back as well.

From the moment she laid eyes on Ruby, she felt immediate empathy. Her constant hesitant, frightened state… it was painfully familiar. Annette still remembered very well the weeks that followed her escape from the plantation. The nightmares, the shivers, the fear of going out, the paranoia. It took a lot for her to realize that she was safe, that no one would ever hurt her anymore. It took even longer for her to learn how to voice her opinions, to understand that she mattered to the people around her, and they mattered for her, too.

And that’s precisely what helped Annette overcome her struggles. She had something to fight for. A cause she would never give up on. Genuine friends around her. Warriors in arms, family in hearts.

She had Edouard.

The mere mention of his name in her mind was enough to make her want to cry again.

Edouard was who helped her during her darkest times. He was still the reason why she was fighting, why she crossed the ocean, why she would do anything in her power to defeat Sekhmet.

And that was precisely what made Ruby’s situation difficult. She… didn’t have a family – not one she remembered, at least. She didn’t have a past, something to hold onto. Someone that would give her motivation to keep fighting until the end of her forces, until the last drop of sweat. With such an amount of trauma (although Annette didn’t know exactly what she went through in Erzsebet’s hands, it certainly wasn’t easy), it is important to have a reason to stay alive.

Or someone.

Annette’s deceased mother was her primary reason. Then Edouard, Cécile, the Maroons… until she realized that by fighting for them, she was fighting for herself, too.

And… perhaps… perhaps she had a new reason to keep fighting now. A reason she met recently, but that made her feel things that she never felt before. A… sweet, funny, a little silly reason – but strong and determined nevertheless.

“I think she’s being honest,” Annette finally answered Richter’s question. “And… I don’t like to feel sorry for people, but I feel sorry for her. I hope she finds her reason soon.”

Richter frowned, clearly not understanding what she meant by “her reason”, but Annette didn’t feel like elaborating on that.

“The only thing I’m suspicious of is this… healing thing of hers,” Richter said in a quiet tone. “I don’t think anyone can acquire this in a good way.”

Annette had to agree with that. Alucard might be right in his words – maybe the Ruby from the past, the real Ruby, was not the innocent person she seemed to be…

A harsh whisper in her right ear made Annette gasp.

Oh no. Not again. They had stopped for some moments, but then started whispering again. That was more of a hiss, in fact – rushed, anxious, trying to catch her attention.

The spirits trembled. Annette noticed that the crowd around her – the crowd of real people – seemed to be walking in the same direction; they wore apprehensive, even angry expressions on their faces. They were almost as hectic as the spirits.

“Is Paris always like this? I can feel the tension,” Annette muttered more to herself than to Richter. She looked around; there were spirits behind them, to the sides, in front–

Wait, in front–

Her eyes passed rapidly by Alucard and Ruby. They had stopped walking for some reason, but that’s not what caught her attention.

She… she saw a strange glow in Ruby.

It didn’t surround her body like it did with the spirits. It was a… point. Faint, eerie; the tiny point glowed on the left side of her back, almost transparent… like the flame of a candle.

It glowed in the same place as her heart.

Annette tightened her eyes. What was that? Did anyone put a spell on her? Was an enemy nearby? No one else had a glow like that – no one alive, at least. She was about to reach for Ruby’s arm, scared for her safety–

But then, the sound of drums echoed through the streets.

The spirits vanished – just as the strange flame in Ruby’s heart.

Annette blinked repeatedly. Did she… see things?

Alucard looked behind his back to the two of them, now that they had reached their position.

“Something’s about to happen,” he said eerily.

The crowd kept walking. Now, Annette could see that there was a great square ahead of them. It couldn’t be a good thing; she felt a strange sensation in her gut, an apprehension that she could not understand.

She wanted to ask if Ruby was alright – if she felt anything – but decided that was not the time. The group followed the rest of the crowd.

That left a question mark in the back of Annette’s mind. What was that thing she saw in Ruby’s heart?

But then, the King of France was executed, Annette saw the three headed spirit that almost made her have a heart attack – and nothing else mattered after that.

You felt sorry for him.

Of course – you heard the conversation between Richter, Annette and Alucard. They understood the situation much better than you and even had divergent opinions. He wasn’t a particularly bad King, Richter said, while Annette stated that no one can reign innocently. On your understandings, both of them were right to some degree.

And yet, when “Louis The Last” stepped on the platform and knelt in front of the guillotine, you didn’t see the King. You saw a frightened man in the face of death.

Watching normal humans die wasn’t easy; you never got used to it. It was always horrible whenever you’d see one of Erzsebet’s preys let their dying breath, their last gag. It was almost as if you could see their lives slipping away, their bodies becoming empty. And yet, when you realized that they’d finally stopped moving, you felt… relief for them. Because at least, they weren’t in pain anymore. Whenever you saw a human victim be dragged into the hall, you’d silently hope for a quick death upon them. Things didn’t always go that way. You hated when they didn’t.

The square was uncomfortably crowded, but Alucard was right – you were getting used to it, although you were still hoping to leave that place as soon as possible. Angry whispers, shouts, loud discussions... they were energetic.

The conversation of a particular couple close to you caught your attention.

“I don’t think I can look at it,” the woman said with a visible scowl of disgust. The man, still facing the platform, made her hide her face on the curve of his neck.

“It’s okay, darling. You don’t have to.”

You frowned.

She was wrong. He was wrong.

You shouldn’t look away when a man is about to die. It’s dishonorable.

You watched in solemn silence when the sharp blade of the guillotine went down on the man’s neck, beheading him. Blood splashed on the platform. The head rolled one, two, three, four times. A perpetually horrified expression. The crowd cheered in satisfied anger. They felt avenged.

Only then did you close your eyes for a moment. A quick death is a luxury not many have, you thought.

“Annette? Are you alright?”

You opened your eyes and turned around to see Richter calling the girl in yellow. Annette had her back facing you, yet you could see her heavy breathing, which immediately sparked some worry. Was she feeling unwell?

“...Yes,” Annette’s voice almost disappeared within the crowd’s roar. She sounded hesitant and scared. It was the first time she looked even remotely scared.

Alucard was quietly watching her, too, from over his shoulder. Then, he sent you a meaningful glance, pointing with his head a way out of the crowd. He didn’t wait for any of you to follow him.

“Let’s go,” you said, calling Richter and Annette’s attention. She looked more than happy to leave the place, while Richter kept sending her worried glances.

There was no time to ask if she was okay or not. The crowd seemed to be getting even more heated. They shouted, raised their fists in the air, clapped their hands – and it only got worse when one of the guards took the deceased King’s head and put it on a spike, lifting it up for the audience. The crowd started to push each other to try to get a closer look.

That was when the confusion started.

You saw people falling. Children crying. Guards shouting, trying to get control of the situation with no avail. You were pushed, almost smashed in the middle of hundreds of bodies, to a point were your feet were merely following the flow of the crowd, having no control of where you were going.

“There are ladies here, you savage animals!” One woman groaned.

“Stop pushing!” Someone else said.

“Rot in hell, Louis!”

“I want to see the head!”

“Ouch- my foot!”

“Vive la Révolution!”

You desperately tried to make your way out – and there was no way out without pushing people, which only made the situation worse. You looked around, trying to see Richter or Annette; the Belmont boy was quite tall, so it was easy to spot him many rows of people away from you, also being smashed. He sent you a worried gaze and tried to yell something, but you couldn’t hear anything over the incessant shouting. You tried to approach him, but that was like trying to swim against the flow of a river.

Richter tried to shout something again. He managed to lift his hand and point at something to your right side. You supposed he was trying to show you a way out of the crowd.

You turned your head in that direction in time to see Alucard approaching with a deeply annoyed frown.

He caught you by the arm and pressed your body on his, keeping a firm arm around you while the other quite unceremoniously pushed people out of the way. He didn’t let himself be carried by the flow, keeping a solid and consistent pace. Alucard was like a rock in the middle of these people, literally. No one could push him even if they tried (and they tried). He didn’t lose balance.

He was visibly pissed.

And even so, the thing your brain most noticed was that he… had a good smell.

It wasn’t exactly your fault; Alucard was pressing you against his chest after all. And… you tried to remember that method – if you could call it that – that Alucard himself taught you a few hours ago. When your mind was distressed, about to spiral, too overwhelmed… focus on a single thing, a simple thing, to try and muffle everything else.

So you focused on his smell.

It was… sweet. Like spices. It even reminded you a bit of cocoa. And refreshing, maybe a bit citric, like orange.

It… reminded you a bit of the natural smell a baby has after taking a bath.

Vampires have a very specific smell you learned to hate over time. It’s nauseously sweet, like burnt sugar. Add this to unnecessary puffs of perfume – Erzsebet loved floral fragrances – and their absolutely horrible breath that no amount of chewing peppermint could mask.

You shouldn’t be surprised that even though Alucard was half-vampire, he was still starkly different than all the others you’d met, even in the tiniest details. But it surprised you anyway.

Finally, he managed to push his way out of the crowd into a nearby, emptier street, releasing his grip around you. You stepped aside, cleaning the sweat on your forehead with the back of your hand.

“That was… intense,” you managed to speak breathlessly, looking back at the still growing mess. “Thank you.”

Alucard sighed heavily. “We should’ve left sooner,” he muttered dryly, more to himself than to you. “I should’ve figured a commotion like this would happen.” He looked at the crowd for a few more moments before his eyes fell on your figure, the frown on his forehead untying. “How are you feeling?”

You widened your eyes slightly. Sure, he was just being thoughtful, but you figured he was asking that after your… history of panics involving crowds (or even smaller things).

“Oh! I’m totally fine. Thank you,” you tried to sound cheerful. Alucard nodded.

It seemed that all you could tell him was thank you over and over again – and it was starting to annoy you. Not only because a tiny (maybe not so tiny) part of you wanted to have more meaningful conversations with him like the one earlier that day, but because you didn’t want to worry anyone anymore. You wanted to be more useful to the group. But how could you be useful if the group consisted of excellent fighters, experts in magic, and you were just an “ordinary” human? Your healing was only useful to yourself, not to them.

Alucard looked back at the crowd and raised his arm. Following his gaze, you saw Richter and Annette pop out of the mass of people, similarly breathless as you. This at least brought you some comfort. Alucard was the only one to show no sign of tiredness.

The Belmont boy rested his hands over his knees, breathing heavily, when they reached your position. “...I hope that was the only beheading scheduled for today,” he joked tiredly.

Annette didn’t chuckle this time. Worry still clouded her eyes. “Are we close now, Alucard?”

The man nodded. “Only a few blocks away from here. Let’s go.”

He kept marching ahead, not giving any of you a chance to recover.

The Louvre was scarily big.

Bigger than the chateau, bigger than Erzsebet’s palace, bigger than… well, any building you’d ever seen.

The gigantic front garden of the palace was eerily empty, with only a few people walking here and there; most of the population was concentrated on the central square to watch the execution of the King, which would grant you some advantage (and tranquility) to look for Sekhmet’s mummy. You approached the palace a little after the midday sun, its light reflecting on the decorative pools of the garden, the wind softly swaying the trees.

“The monarchies of Europe will be horrified. Already, some of them are waging war on France. They’ll be joined by the rest. The Vampire Messiah plans to lead them, commander and chief of the counterrevolution,” Alucard explained while you walked.

Oh. And just like that, everything made sense. Erzsebet’s reason to be on France, their talks about “crushing a revolution”… Indeed, if she succeeded, she’d be considered the Queen she always aimed to be. One that could unite an entire continent regardless of public opinion, as she sided with the oligarchies which possessed the most power. Vampire oligarchies.

“And just this street rabble to resist her,” Richter said somberly. “Who won’t stand a chance, will they?”

“No.”

A shiver ran down your spine. You didn’t have enough information to understand if the current kings and queens were bad to their people. Judging by the execution witnessed earlier and the reaction it caused… you could assume they weren’t doing a great job. To have a sadistic vampire sitting on a throne, ruling over millions of innocent lives… it would be even worse. Erszebet saw humans as less than insects, barely livestock, and her court thought the same. Soon, she’d be ruling over an empire of corpses.

You looked over your shoulder to Richter and Annette, who had suddenly stopped walking and were a few steps away. They were being too quiet for you to hear them. Richter still looked worried, while Annette seemed distressed.

You looked ahead again. “There’s something wrong with Annette,” you said quietly. Alucard hummed.

“I noticed.” He also kept the quiet tone. “However, we can’t help her if she doesn’t say what’s the problem.”

Alucard was already preventing you from getting stressed. You nodded. “...I hope it’s nothing serious.”

Finally, you reached the doors of the palace. Two guards protected the entrance. After a quick chat, they let you in. Apparently, the palace was public domain now, so it didn’t take a lot of convincing.

Opposing to its empty exterior, the large halls of the Louvre were filled with people – men and women, working on organization and cleaning. All of them wore some sort of hat in the colors of the French flag; members of the Revolution.

“A single family lived here?” you muttered to yourself, letting your gaze wander through the place. The high vaulted ceilings, the tall windows, red columns, golden arabesques, the glass skylights; it was bathed in natural lighting. Not to mention the many pieces of art – statues, paintings, some of the frames towering three times bigger than a person; the intricate carpets, the chandeliers… with each corner you turned (the palace seemed to be an endless labyrinth) you grew more and more speechless.

“No, the royal family lived somewhere else. It was still their property, though,” Richter explained. “And to think the people were dying of hunger and plague while the royal family had all this,” he said bitterly. “It really makes you agree with the revolutionaries.”

You had to admit that it was hard to focus on the task at hand being surrounded by so much art. Erzsebet’s palace was beautiful, of course, but devoid of any personality. It was… beauty for the sake of beauty, mostly. But at the Louvre, you saw sculptures and paintings that looked genuinely ancient; hundreds of years of history, the works of multiple hands, stories being told. It definitely should not be at the hands of a few people only.

A certain half opened door caught your eye. There seemed to be a big statue there that glowed faintly under the sunlight. You narrowed your eyes, trying to see better…

“Oh! Leonardo!”

Alucard’s voice completely caught your attention.

You snapped your head at him. The nonchalance in his expression was completely gone, being replaced by… longing?

He turned to you three with a bit of excitement he hadn’t shown up until that moment. “It’s a painting by Leonardo da Vinci, of a woman he actually couldn’t abide. Or so he told me,” he explained, pointing with his head towards a particular frame. A woman of straight brown hair and dark clothing posed in the painting with a vague expression, her arms crossed over her lap. Alucard closed his eyes for a moment, chuckling, and opened a tender smile. Then, he side eyed you as if telling a secret: “I never really thought it was one of his best.”

Then, he kept on walking as if nothing happened.

...You were pretty sure that you, Richter and Annette were all blushing at that moment.

Alucard never sounded so excited before. Never so lighthearted. And he looked… cute? Adorable, in fact. It made him look very young.

...You’d like to know this side of him a little bit better.

“Is there any order to this? Or do you just… put things anywhere?” Alucard asked one of the men in uniform.

“We’re looking for Ancient Egyptian,” Richter added.

The man pointed ahead. “Go straight, then turn to your left at the end of the corridor. First door.”

You followed his directions after Richter muttered a thank you. Alucard picked up his pace and all of you followed. Now that you had some guidance, it seemed that apprehension weighed over the atmosphere. The room mentioned by the man was empty – if you could call that a room, that is, as it was bigger than some houses. A gallery, in fact.

Wooden crates of different sizes were scattered here and there. Some sculptures were protected by boxes made of glass. Sunlight embraced the entire room through the tall windows. At the far end of the gallery, there were four columns that seemed to imitate palm trees; they had colorful paintings and ancient writings around them.

A shiver ran down your spine. A memory from not long ago – or was it long ago? – was brought forward in your mind. An obelisk with writings similar to those in the columns… the same art styles, the same periods. It would be brought whenever Erzsebet summoned an eclipse… or when Erzsebet summoned Sekhmet. The vampire’s very appearance would change, taking an animalistic look similar to a lioness. Whenever Erzsebet did that, you’d be genuinely frightened, even more than usual. That wasn’t simply the strength of a vampire anymore. It was much more ancient, much stronger, a much denser type of magic… the type that shouldn’t be messed with thoughtlessly, the type that demanded respect upon its use. Erzsebet had no respect for it. Maybe that’s why it was always so horrendous to witness.

“Hm… so we’re looking for a corpse…” Richter muttered, looking around.

“It’s here. I’m sure of it,” Alucard said as he inspected one of the wooden crates.

You thought of searching for it too, but you didn’t want to touch anything. You couldn’t tell exactly why. Was it because of your bad memories associated with anything Egyptian? Or was it something else?

“Show me.”

The three of you turned to Annette at the same time.

“What?” Richter asked.

The girl had an apprehensive expression as she stared at… nothing in particular. She visibly hesitated before speaking.

“There are spirits here. Many spirits,” she confessed quietly. You widened your eyes. Richter instinctively looked around. “They’ve been following us. Following me.” She inhaled, as if building up courage. “Show me.”

You looked around as well and saw, well… nothing. But Annette was following something with her gaze with much attention. Richter approached her.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because I don’t know what they want,” for the first time, Annette showed a glimpse of her real distress over the situation. That’s what had been bothering her since the execution… she was sweating. “Or if they’re real.”

“Do they speak to you?” Alucard asked in a serious tone.

“Yes, but I… can’t understand what they’re whispering,” she narrowed her eyes. “Sometimes they seem angry. There are spirits here now who just seem lost.” She looked at Richter. Annette seemed even more fragile than when you talked to her at the forest, which took you by surprise. “...Or is it me that’s lost?”

Richter pressed his lips together, not taking his eyes off her for a second. He rested a reassuring hand on her back, not saying a word – and it seemed enough to calm her down, even if just a bit.

It even felt that you were interrupting something for a second. And yet, you couldn’t look away. They… seemed to share something very intimate. Very beautiful.

Your chest tightened.

“What’s happening with them now?” Alucard asked quietly, looking around. “Could they be trying to tell you something?”

Annette looked ahead and went silent for some seconds. Then, she pointed in the direction she was looking.

“There.”

The group approached a particular wooden crate sitting at the very end of the gallery, near the columns. Alucard knelt down in front of it and lifted its lid.

And there it was.

A mummy, with its arms crossed over their chest, completely bandaged in red linen, laying over a bed of straw. It had the silhouette of a woman.

“It stinks,” Richter complained, pinching his nose.

Annette narrowed her eyes. “It’s her. It’s Sekhmet,” she confirmed with certainty.

Alucard got up again. All of you watched the mummy for some seconds; it seemed you shared the weight of responsibility that thing represented.

“So, what do we do now?” Richter spoke up first, scratching the back of his head. “I could burn it, or we could just… hack it to pieces and scatter it to the winds.”

“What you do now is give her to me.”

In that moment – time was frozen.

Air left your lungs. Your eyes widened. Every nerve tensed up. Violent goosebumps roamed your entire body.

You turned around. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to face the owner of that voice. You wanted to believe it was just your mind playing tricks, that there was nothing actually happening. Because there was no way it was her.

Drolta is dead, Alucard said. He confirmed it. He said he was sure.

But you turned around anyway – and what you saw made your heart drop.

That thing couldn’t be Drolta. There was no way. It had a female body, its leathery skin a mix of black and greyish pink. Instead of feet, it had hooves that made it tower over any human. Its wings were leathery as well, similar to a bat’s; its claws seemed to be made of iron, just like the tip of its long tail. Twisted horns sat at the top of its head.

The thing focused its eyes on you and opened a cruel smile.

No.

No no no no no no no.

That thing couldn’t be Drolta. No, there was no way. But you stared back at her, you scanned her facial features, and these were the same eyes. Most of her original form was gone – it had little resemblance to the attractive woman she once was – but the eyes. The cruelty in those eyes. They remained the same.

It was Drolta.

“Yes, Alucard. You killed me,” she said in the same sultry voice you were so disgustingly used to. “And you stole something very precious from me, too.” Her gaze locked on you again. Her smirk turned to an evil grin. “You little runaway rat… it’s time to return home.”

She was twirling something around her pointer finger. The thing she twirled… it gleamed under the sunlight.

You gasped.

It was the ruby necklace.

You had time to see her extend her great wings, ready to launch. A part of your brain registered that she was accompanied by three other winged creatures, but they seemed blurred. All you could do was stare at her. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t do anything.

She attacked.

Alucard jumped at the same time, his body enveloped by the familiar red glow. They clashed mid-air.

And then, Richter’s back blocked your vision.

“Stay behind me!” He yelled, snapping his whip in the air, as the three other creatures launched together.

Annette threw one of her newly created blades in the air as if it was a boomerang to no avail, as it didn’t hit any of the creatures. One of them – it was red, its head was what looked like the skull of a wolf – spat a ball of pure fire in your direction. Seeing there would be no time to grab you, Richter pushed you out of the way roughly, sending you a few meters back; your back hit the wall, causing air to leave your lungs.

The Belmont boy knelt down; his palm touched the ground in your direction. With a grunt of effort, he lifted his hand – and at the same pace, a wall of ice rose around you, enclosing you like an igloo.

The outside noises were muffled for some seconds.

You stayed there, sitting on the floor, unable to move; your entire body trembled, and it had nothing to do with the ice around you. Sweat dripped down your temples. Your breath came difficult, it seemed that the air was burning your throat and your lungs; your vision was blurred.

Drolta is alive Drolta is alive Drolta is alive was all that your mind repeated, yelled at you; Drolta is alive and she came after me, Drolta is worse than she was before, Drolta is going to kill Richter and Annette and Alucard–

Richter and Annette and Alucard–

They were all fighting.

Richter snapped his whip around violently, embedding it in blue flames. When one of his attacks hit, the creature – a black one, with a more humanoid figure – screamed in pain; he jumped, twirled in the air, protected his arm with a layer of ice when one of its attacks was about to hit. He tumbled back to avoid being hit by another gush of fire by the skull-headed night creature.

Annette fought a three-headed beast similar to a dragon; she controlled many pieces of iron around the gallery, aiming them at it. Some hits were successful. She jumped from crate to crate, avoiding the bites as all the three heads tried to catch her in different directions at the same moment.

And Alucard kept Drolta completely focused on him, maintaining the fight in the air, near the ceiling. It seemed that the sword barely made any damage against her leathery skin, and yet he kept attacking and tanking her attacks. You watched with horror as her hair (well, what was supposed to be hair; that thing wasn’t hair anymore) extended themselves like snakes, pursuing him around the gallery, causing great destruction were it hit.

The three of them were fighting. And you understood with great remorse that their objective was to keep the creatures so occupied that they wouldn’t be able to reach you or the mummy.

You were not only completely useless – you were getting in the way.

They couldn’t fight freely with you around.

You gulped, trying to stop panting, but you couldn’t. No no no, not this now. You don’t have time for this. You don’t have time! Why was your body playing tricks on you again? Why couldn’t it function when you needed the most? You needed to get out of there. Fuck, you needed to do something, anything! And still — your body wouldn’t obey.

Focus on a single thing, a simple thing, to try and muffle everything else.

Alucard’s method.

A single thing.

You looked around the small area inside the “igloo”.

Spotted a nail – probably used to lock the lid of the crates.

A simple thing.

With all your might, you forced your shaking arm to move; forced it to stretch, to reach for the nail, to hold it tightly.

Focus on a single thing, a simple thing.

With a grunt of effort, you pierced your own palm with the nail. The sharp pain awakened you from your numb state.

Right on time.

The black creature found an opening in Richter’s incessant attacks and launched itself towards you. The igloo melted. You rolled away from it and got up in a jump.

Annette immediately glued to your side. She was panting, holding blades in both hands; Richter threw a gush of blue flames, trying to keep the beasts away. You couldn’t see Alucard or Drolta behind the wall of fire. However, it wasn’t enough; the three night creatures were about to surround you. You’d have no escape.

Annette seemed to be reading your mind.

She let go of the blades for a second. She gesticulated with her hands as if grabbing something in the air; the wall beside you cracked. Annette “pulled” the air and let a scream of effort. Obeying her command, the wall teared apart, creating a hole towards the corridor – big enough for someone to pass through.

“Run, Ruby! Run!” Annette yelled.

And you obeyed.

You jumped through the hole and sprinted down the corridor, the pain in your palm completely forgotten. The ground was shaking, chandeliers tinkling, dust fell over your head. The sounds of the fight were slowly replaced by screams of fear and many steps. Of course, the palace was packed with workers. Some of them were running towards the Egyptian gallery, being attracted by the loud noises, but stopped running when they saw you.

“Get out of here! Your weapons won’t work!” You shouted without slowing your pace, gesticulating vehemently. “Get out, all of you! Right now!”

Luckily, you didn’t need to repeat yourself; the people in the hall started to run towards the exit.

You turned the corner, desperately trying to find an escape plan. You thought of running outside into the sunlight, but these things weren’t vampires; the sun wouldn’t protect you. You could try to mix with the crowd of people running out of the palace, but it would definitely put them all in danger. You could hide – but was there any safe place? These night creatures weren’t the same as the weak vampires you’ve encountered on your way to Paris. They were actually dangerous, even to your powerful allies.

Your thoughts were cut off when you heard a shrilling growl out there.

A gasp escaped past your lips. It was the three-headed beast – it was flying out there, soaring near the windows… scoping the area after you.

You entered the first room you saw.

You banged the double doors of the gallery. It was much smaller than the Egyptian one, yet the windows were equally large. You rushed to untie the heavy curtains and cover them, immersing the room in darkness; only a peek of light was visible through one of the windows. Shit shit shit shit you needed to barricade the door. You pushed a heavy crate with your back, positioning it against the door, yet you knew it wasn’t nearly enough; you needed to put something between the handles to truly lock it.

It was too dark now. You searched through the wooden boxes with shaking fingers, trying to find any artifact that could do the job; a steel bar, a vase thin enough, anything. The floor was still shaking incessantly. Please, let them be safe, you prayed silently to whoever was hearing; please, let them be safe.

You knelt in front of the final crate and lifted its lid. There were a couple of artifacts there, all so rusty and old that you could barely recognize what they were. A sword, a helmet, what looked like the remains of a broken shield, and… oh! A spear!

Or at least, it resembled a spear. It was completely covered in rust; thin, shorter than an actual spear, and it didn’t have a blade on the tip, but some sort of… rusty circle. Again, it was too dark to understand what that thing was, but it would do the job.

And yet – you hesitated to hold it.

Your fingers hovered over the object with hesitancy.

Suddenly… you weren’t hearing the outside noises anymore. They were distant. All you heard was your thundering heartbeat, your panting.

Your hand tingled. It had nothing to do with the injury you inflicted in yourself. The “spear” seemed to radiate some sort of warmth; you could feel it even some centimeters away. It made your stomach drop in a funny way. It wasn’t the fear or the adrenaline; it felt different.

Finally, you gulped and grabbed the object.

It was, indeed, hot. But that’s not what made your eyes widen.

As soon as you held it, the “spear” started to glow. No, it started to shine.

You watched as the rust around the object dissipated like dust. It shone so brightly that you had to close your eyes; it was so hot that you felt that your palm was about to burn. But then, after a few seconds, it stopped.

You opened your eyes again gasped.

You weren’t holding a rusty “spear” anymore. That wasn’t a spear; it was a scepter.

You got up from the ground slowly. The scepter was almost as tall as you were, made of solid gold. At its tip, the rusty “circle” was gone, being replaced by a small “plate” with twelve curvy “spikes” circling it in regular intervals; an unmistakable representation of the sun. Tiny inscriptions were engraved across its entirety. You brought it closer to your eyes, trying to understand what they meant since it was still dark inside the room – and when you recognized them, you almost dropped the object on the floor.

The writings were on the same strange language from the moon book Erzsebet made you read. You recognized the characters.

What the hell was that?!

The sound of an explosion so loud out there that made the floor shake yanked you out of your own head.

Fuck. I still need to lock the door, you remembered, rushing towards it with the scepter in hand. You were still shaking, clumsily trying to barricade the hangs with the long object–

A window crashed.

You screamed in horror. Glass flew everywhere, part of the wall was destroyed, the curtain was ripped off. You turned around to see the three-headed beast enter the gallery, groaning and hissing, as Annette gripped one of its necks for dear life.

She finally released the night creature before one of the heads could chop her, landing on her feet and putting herself between you and the thing. She was visibly tired, yet her eyes were ferocious. You noticed that the creature had lost its middle head, probably the reason for it to be so aggressive.

Annette growled. She controlled iron objects around her, launching them all at the creature; it flapped its wings violently to avoid being hit, destroying crates and artifacts around it. The creature ran towards Annette. She pushed you out of the way.

“Ruby, you need to–“ she jumped, avoiding a hit. “You need–“ she managed to cut the thing’s leg, skipping out of danger’s line before it could strike. “You need to go!”

There was no way to run through the broken window – to reach it, you’d have to come across the night creature. The doors were the only escape – and they were fucking barricaded by the crate you put there previously. You groaned, putting all of your strength into pushing it away, the scepter completely forgotten on the floor. You needed to run, you needed to run, you needed to–

Your eyes were glued in Annette.

Like what happened at the forest, it seemed that the world was moving in slow motion again.

You saw as Annette twirled mid-air above the beast; with one hand, she controlled one of her blades to pierce the creature’s left skull, but it was unsuccessful; the thing caught the blade with its teeth. Her landing trajectory was at the right side of the same head. She already held another blade firmly with both hands.

Annette landed graciously. With a groan of effort, she sliced its left head, beheading it.

But the right head was still there. The right head already had its jaws open wide. Annette was stuck between the remaining head and the neck of the one she had just beheaded. There was no escape route. She would not have time to react.

You saw all that unfold in front of your eyes and got to the obvious conclusion: Annette was going to die.

So you moved.

You sprinted from the place you were on the floor. You didn’t wait until the world would start moving fast again. You didn’t wait for Annette to realize what you were about to do.

You put yourself between her and the monster.

Its jaws tightened around the entire right side of your body – and when the world started moving at its normal speed again, all that existed was pain.

[jupiterianguru]

entry 001: messages from your ancestors

            ྀི❀⋆.ೃྀི࿔*:･

author’s note — while tarot can be a tool, you are in control of your own life. life is NOT linear and there’s no black and white answers to anything. take what resonates and if it doesn’t make you feel good, then let it go.

—

one:

the sun + 7 of cups reversed + ace of wands rx

additionally: 8 of swords + the moon rx

song from the ancestors:

these ancestors may have used their hands to create or build. i feel like you come from a lineage that has creative abilities, maybe you tend to have a lot of inclinations towards creating art or even simply appreciating art. there's natural talents or gifts for creation present here for sure.

they're giving you the green light for something. there's a feeling that you must get started on something but you might not know how, in what direction, or what resources to use. there's a mental blockage or a creative blockage if you will. you know, it's said that the throat chakra (responsible for authenticity and expression) is connected to our sacral (responsible for our emotions and creativity). i mention this for a reason, stay with me now. it's almost like you want to get started on said thing but each time you want to begin, your brain starts to bring up unnecessary, negative chatter. you get stuck on the how's, the ifs, and the buts. in turn, you find yourself stuck right before a point of creating. keeping you paralyzed with a feeling of being so close yet so far. spoiler alert: these thoughts are distractions from something deeper. here is where that throat chakra and sacral chakra connection comes in.

you're not doing anything wrong, matter of fact this is apart of your creative process. not only that, your healing. a big part of these thoughts are a core belief that is wanting to be acknowledged and seen. it's not that you're missing the gift, talent, or resources because you possess everything you need to move forward and create. but rather the blockage is coming from emotional needs that have been suppressed. i feel like the individuals that chose this pile are big intellectualizers and have labelled themselves as "self-aware." i'm not saying you're not self-aware. you most likely are... but the problem in this is that you do not allow yourself to sit with your emotions. when you hold space with your emotions, you are allowing yourself to come as you are. there's no good or bad emotions when sitting with them, you simply acknowledge them as emotions that are valid and natural. no matter how complex they may seem, we humans are complex and yet there's normalcy in the fact that we are so complex... you see. nothing is black and white.

give yourself a break and let yourself feel the frustration, the boredom, the angst, the sadness, etc. it's trying to tell you something. it's only when you sit in stillness that you will conquer the chatter and eventually get to where you want to get to. don't force yourself to create. you will get their on your own.

the reason i feel like this was an ancestral message is because i feel like some of your ancestors did not allow themselves to feel and eventually gave up on their craft. leading to a lifetime of regret. the good news is you are aware of this. sit your ass down and ask yourself why you are feeling what you're feeling.

this message especially reigns true for those who have been having or started this year off emotionally turbulent.

thank you. sending you love.

 

    ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

two:

10 of cups + knight of wands + knight of pentacles

additionally: ace of swords rx + king of cups

song from the ancestors:

these ancestors feel like people that moved from the heart like genuine passion and love for the world and others. very generous. i also hear laughter so perhaps some of them were jokesters, pranksters, or just simply people who loved to make others smile. i'm hearing that song from tangled "when will my life begin?" despite the happiness exuding from the outside, theres a sadness i feel within. maybe some of the individuals in your lineage never truly got their "happy-ending." whatever that meant for them, it could be that they had a dream to get married and never met that person. or if they did get married, it ended in divorce or tragedy. or maybe their dream was to go to college and become a professional, but they didn't end up finishing or have the resources to go. this is a general reading so of course it varies but the jist of it is that their dreams were either short-lived or couldn't happen at all.

there's a dream that your heart is set on. my grandma told me once that if you desire something so much that it makes you cry just thinking about it, it's meant for you. your ancestors are acknowledging that you have everything you need to obtain this dream. it may not seem like it to you but they have a birds eye view and they're saying that it's in you. but goddamn, you gotta really believe in it.

perhaps you're just starting to realize that this is attainable or you're starting to take steps towards this dream but it feels like such a far journey. it could be overwhelming, sometimes you may have bad days, or you just feel like there's no support and it's lonely. honestly, you guys may catastrophize the situation a bit sometimes. like just cause you have one bad day, week, or even a month doesn't mean all of a sudden your dream is gone or you're not worthy of it anymore. this is called a journey! your journey to your dream is not a easy path, duh, then the dream itself wouldn't be rewarding.

little mini story (i promise it's relevant): when i first read someone for the first time and found out of my healing abilities, i read them for two hours straight and afterwards i just cried pure tears of joy for an hour saying thank you to my team and creator. out of everything, all I could do is bask in that gratitude because it felt like all my pain, my suffering, my joy, etc. lead me to that moment. it was worth it. i've been on my journey for years now and i often go back to that memory, especially when i feel like my heavier days and emotions have consumed me.

this is how it should feel for you. you want this so bad for a reason. sometimes you may go through upbeat and fast times, it may feel like you're working towards something or what you're doing is beneficial to your dream but other times it may feel slow, down, like every step you're taking may be directionless. this is normal! this is how it should feel! despite what those people who have what you want portray on socials, it's a journey. everyone wants results so quickly now without putting work in, without enjoying the journey. this causes faulty foundations and unaligned outcomes. not everything is meant to be fast moving, positive, or happy all the time. you don't have to be in that energy all the time to be worthy of it. embrace both of these moments in the journey and trust that the seeds you have planted are growing. you don't plant a seed and watch it grow right? you nurture it, give it love, care, and trust that it will grow.

when you're lacking clarity or are doubtful, remember to be like the king of cups. move with these emotions rather than stay stuck in them. the king of cups shows us that we can be patient with ourselves and our bigger emotions but not let them consume us or cloud us. having a bad day? take a walk, a bath, spend time with family, friends or a pet. soothe yourself and don't let one bad day dictate the rest of your journey, you won't always feel like this and your situation won't always look like this either.

this message reigns true for those who have a dream pertaining to building a family, community, getting married, etc. your dream will be prosperous, stable, and so emotionally-fullfilling. it's possible the individuals that picked this pile may have came from less fortunate circumstances or just didn't get dealt the best cards in life. just because you came from that, doesn't mean that is your fate. you will make your ancestors proud and all past versions of you proud.

thank you. sending you love.

         

    ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

three:

page of cups + 4 of swords + the empress + the hermit

additionally: the high priestess rx + 6 of swords rx

song from the ancestors:

these ancestors carry a heavy energy pertaining to surviving. they never gave themselves a break simply because they couldn't. they needed to work to survive. i feel like crying for this lineage because that's all they knew is how to work their ass off until they were so tired. solely because their life depended on it or their children's life depended on it. health complications may be significant. you may be more susceptible to feeling the effects of stress. you may have things like back pain, insomnia, weight fluctuation, etc.

sit your ass down and rest. the end. that's the message.

no but really, if you're wondering why you don't see progress in any area of your life, it's cause you're not listening to your body and resting. you don't know when to quit and just unwind. let your body rest. let your mind rest. everything is always go go go. and it seems like even when you do rest, it's like your spirit doesn't rest cause either your mind is still running 80 mph or you feel guilty about resting itself. there's a lack of playfulness in your life right now. it's dull and you're probably going through the same routine day by day. I'm here to tell you, nothing won't change, if you don't change.

you are worthy of rest! you are worthy of being kind and gentle to yourself! I know our capitalistic society (if you're in the states) likes us to equate a "productive" life to having your to do list with ten thousand things on it but what if I told you rest was also productive? no? not comprehendible? well, it's time to break down that belief.

let your inner child come out to play! what is one thing you always wanted to see or try? sign up for that pottery class or simply go visit a local park that you've never gone to. if you don't have resources or time to do so, then find ways to switch up your routine like drinking a new coffee or opening a window and smelling the fresh air. find a step in your old routine to kick out and break that loop.

the fact of the matter is you're tired. you have seemed to lost the spark in you. maybe you don't even recognize who you are anymore, where you're going, or why you're doing this for and it's not cause of the work you're doing but rather not listening to what your body needs. prioritize your sleep and take a warm bath. I like working with the spirit of lavender for this so sometimes i'll sit with her though tea, a spiritual bath, or even smoking her. tip: add chamomile for a more gentle, warm hug type of feeling. remember to pray, meditate, or set your intentions. gratitude is so important when working with our plant relatives and their spirit.

you will not move forward or see progress if you don't do this. point blank period. this pile's ancestors talk a very matter of factly. but it makes sense as it seems urgent in a way. you have done enough and the work you are doing whether it's actual physical work or even just emotional work is so important! they're so proud of you but understand that they have worked so hard to be able to give you the privilege of slowing down and resting. do what they could not do!

this message reigns true for those who seem to be workaholics, have mommy issues, or come from a one-parent household. whoever you are, you're someone that can't sit still and you're being asked to do this exact thing. smell the roses, look how far you've come, you deserve this! also, hot baths, hot tea, anything warm or hot is recommended!

thank you. sending you love.

:)

[majikkulu]

✮ ˖° ⸜ masterlist ꕤ ･

╭₊˚๑  ૮꒰˶˃  ᵕ  ˂˶꒱ა  ♡

in  this  pick-a-card  reading,  we’re  uncovering  who’s  watching  over  and  protecting  you  on  a  spiritual  level.  is  it  deities,  spirit  guides,  ancestors,  the  universe  itself,  or  another  higher  power?

remember,  this  is  a  general  reading.  take  what  resonates  and  let  the  rest  flow  away.

trust  your  intuition,  choose  the  picture  or  pile  that  calls  to  you,  and  let  the  magic  unfold!

✧˖°.₊  ♡  ✩˚  ༘

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE ONE ﹑ ﹒ you  have  an  unstoppable  force  by  your  side,  a  warrior  at  heart.  this  being  is  a  protector,  a  guide  who  pushes  you  to  move  forward,  to  grow,  and  to  overcome.  i’m  sensing  they  could  be  a  teacher,  maybe  even  someone  who  helps  you  navigate  life’s  obstacles,  keeping  you  aligned  with  your  path.  if  you’re  into  deities  then  they  embody  the  energy  of  a  fighter,  a  leader,  a  guardian,  someone  who  stands  in  the  trenches  of  war  and  protection.  archangel  michael’s  energy  feels  strong,  but  i  also  sense  the  might  of  ares  or  athena,  deities  of  battle  and  strength.  they’re  sending  you  messages,  whispering  through  synchronicities,  guiding  your  way.  they  want  to  help  you  unlock  your  psychic  abilities,  amplify  your  talents  in  communication  or  divination.  they  shield  you  from  lies  and  illusions,  guarding  your  mind  from  deception.  your  intuition  is  powerfully  tuned  in  with  their  guidance.  i’m  also  getting  the  sense  of  a  beloved  figure.  a  mother  or  grandmother  for  some  of  you.  they  had  a  nurturing  heart,  fun-loving  but  wise  beyond  measure,  someone  who  lifted  your  spirits.  i’m  also  picking  up  on  the  energy  of  ra  and  apollo.  radiant,  uplifting,  warm,  and  strong.  their  protection  is  a  shield  of  light,  guiding  you  toward  truth  and  away  from  negativity.  they  defend  you  fiercely,  blocking  spiritual  attacks,  and  preventing  energy  drains.  if  people  have  tried  to  harm  you,  you  might’ve  noticed  that  they  somehow  face  their  own  setbacks  instead.  when  things  seem  hopeless  but  then  suddenly  align  in  your  favor,  it’s  their  divine  intervention  clearing  the  path  for  you.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE TWO ﹑ ﹒ this  energy  feels  so  deeply  connected,  almost  like  a  quiet,  steady  presence.  it’s  someone  who  knows  your  heartbreak,  who  understands  the  weight  of  your  tears.  if  you  find  yourself  crying  often,  trust  me.  they  hear  every  sob.  they  stand  beside  you  through  the  moments  you  feel  abandoned,  betrayed,  or  crushed  by  life.  they’re  the  ones  who  teach  healing  through  pain,  showing  you  that  even  the  darkest  wounds  can  lead  to  growth.  they  protect  you  from  toxic  relationships,  pushing  people  out  of  your  life  who  aren’t  meant  for  you.  even  when  it  feels  like  a  loss.  they  help  you  process  grief,  release  that  emotional  weight,  and  move  forward.  they’ll  warn  you  about  betrayals  or  disappointments  before  they  even  happen,  preparing  you  in  ways  you  can’t  always  understand  at  first.  there’s  something  about  rain.  maybe  it  speaks  to  you  in  some  way?  their  honesty  is  pure,  and  they  watch  over  you  constantly,  even  if  they  don’t  always  leave  you  obvious  signs.  they’re  there,  keeping  a  close  eye  on  you,  making  sure  you’re  aware  of  any  potential  threats,  even  when  you  might  not  feel  them  coming.  they  communicate  with  you  through  signs,  dreams,  and  those  gut  feelings  you  can’t  ignore.  when  you  sleep,  they  protect  you,  too—guiding  you  through  dreams,  or  through  meditation,  making  sure  you’re  safe  when  you’re  vulnerable.  they  shield  you  when  you’re  at  your  weakest,  keeping  you  safe  from  energy  vampires  and  people  who  drain  you.  this  could  be  an  ancestor  who  fiercely  protected  their  family,  always  watching  over  the  ones  they  loved.  they  block  energy-draining  people  or  situations  from  knocking  you  off  balance.  i’m  also  getting  the  presence  of  raphael,  or  just  your  own  guardian  angels,  who  love  you  deeply.  and  if  you’re  into  deities,  hades  might  also  be  stepping  forward,  holding  that  protective,  yet  transformative  energy  over  you.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE THREE ﹑ ﹒ this  being,  your  protector,  brings  a  playful,  almost  light-hearted  energy  to  your  life.  they  feel  like  a  spirit  guide,  someone  here  to  help  you  with  your  emotions,  to  offer  comfort  when  you  need  it  most.  there’s  a  childlike  essence  to  their  energy.perhaps  they  help  you  reconnect  with  your  inner  child,  remind  you  of  the  simple  joy  and  wonder  you  once  felt.  for  some  of  you,  this  could  be  a  loved  one  who’s  passed,  someone  who’s  faced  deep  personal  loss,  carrying  with  them  regrets  and  disappointments.  they  offer  comfort  in  times  of  sadness,  and  though  they  may  carry  sorrow,  they’re  here  to  help  you  heal.  they  see  the  bigger  picture,  providing  perspective  when  you’re  emotionally  overwhelmed,  guiding  you  through  the  fog.  they  might  send  you  signs.  songs  that  play  at  just  the  right  moment,  names  that  spark  memories,  or  objects  that  seem  to  appear  out  of  nowhere.  they’ve  been  with  you  through  it  all,  guiding  you  through  life’s  struggles.  whether  you’ve  faced  financial  hardship,  loneliness,  or  isolation,  they’ve  been  by  your  side,  keeping  you  company  when  you  needed  it  most.  they  may  also  communicate  with  you  in  your  dreams,  offering  clarity  or  guidance  while  you  sleep.  i’m  sensing  a  connection  to  the  moon.  maybe  hecate  or  selene.  goddesses  of  mystery,  intuition,  and  hidden  knowledge.  their  protection  comes  in  subtle  forms:  dreams,  visions,  or  flashes  of  deep  insight.  vivid  dreams,  especially  those  involving  water,  the  moon,  or  paths  you’ve  yet  to  walk,  could  be  their  way  of  reaching  you.  and  there’s  something  about  the  number  5.  perhaps  it  holds  significance  for  you. 

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE FOUR ﹑ ﹒ there’s  a  deep,  almost  sacred  connection  to  your  family  and  roots  here,  a  loved  one  who’s  protecting  you.  maybe  even  a  pet  or  an  ancestor  from  past  generations.  you  were  born  to  break  the  cycles,  to  heal  the  wounds  that  have  been  passed  down  through  the  years.  it’s  like  a  tutelary  spirit,  a  guardian  who  offers  you  strength  when  life  gets  tough,  wrapping  you  in  a  gentle,  compassionate  energy  that  brings  peace  and  healing.  their  presence  is  both  soothing  and  powerful,  guiding  you  through  the  hardest  times  with  the  comfort  only  someone  deeply  connected  to  you  could  offer.  whether  you  feel  them  consciously  or  not,  they’re  always  there,  either  in  your  mind  or  your  soul.  they’re  helping  you  move  from  chaos  to  calm,  from  turmoil  to  tranquility.  this  could  be  someone  who’s  walked  a  similar  path,  a  family  member  who  truly  understands  the  struggles  you  face  and  wants  nothing  more  than  to  see  you  heal.  if  you’ve  lost  someone  dear  to  you,  it’s  possible  they’re  one  of  your  main  protectors  now,  watching  over  you  from  the  other  side.  you’ll  know  who  they  are.  they’ve  been  a  huge  part  of  your  life,  and  they  still  are,  even  now.  if  you  don’t  recognize  them  in  a  physical  sense,  it  could  be  an  ancestral  presence,  one  that’s  been  with  you  for  generations.  this  could  be  the  spirit  who  triggered  your  spiritual  awakening.

[kabsey]

Unpacking his sparse collection of spare clothing required very little of Lucanis's attention, but he kept his mind focused on the motions of his hands as he drew a shirt from his bag, carefully refolded it, and added it to the small stack on the bed. He had bought all of the clothes—as well as the bag itself—in a rushed shopping trip before joining the team at the Lighthouse. He had no doubt the contents of his flat were somewhere in the villa, returned to his grandmother upon his supposed death, but the thought of the entirety of his adult life stacked in piles and covered with dusty drop cloths made him feel like the phantom of some long-dead Dellamorte ancestor resurrected from the ether.

Spite paced around the room and grumbled to himself with the occasional discontented aside thrown at Lucanis. He had not wanted to leave the Lighthouse. Lucanis could sympathize, but as he'd reminded Spite, all of their friends had responsibilities to get back to; even if they'd stayed, they would have found themselves frequently alone. Spite had argued that an empty Lighthouse still sounded better than a return to the villa (and Lucanis could not entirely disagree), but the agreed-upon weekly dinner with the team and the promise of frequent messages and visits to and from Emmrich and Manfred had mollified him. Lucanis doubted even that would have been enough if not for the fact that Rook was also returning to Treviso and would be just across the city in Viago's townhouse.

The background noise of Spite's monologue of complaints went silent suddenly, and Lucanis glanced up to see him baring his teeth at the open doorway.

"You know," Illario drawled from a lazy lean against the doorframe, "I remember hearing Caterina suggest that you take the master suite."

He sauntered into the room with precise and steady movements. Only a fellow Crow who had known him his whole life would see the slightly rounded posture that meant he was well into his cups. He ran a fingertip along one of the bed posts as if checking for dust and then made a show of wiping an imaginary smudge from his fingers.

"I wonder what she will say when she finds you have taken up residence in your old room instead."

Lucanis went back to his unpacking. "Where I sleep is not her business."

Illario barked a short laugh. "If you think anything that happens under this roof is not Caterina's business, you really have been gone a long time."

"Yes," Lucanis agreed with a pointed glare. "I have."

Illario didn't flinch or look chagrined, except for a slight downward twitch of his lips and how quickly he looked away. "So tell me, cousin: why have you chosen to sleep in your childhood bedroom instead of the master suite as suggested?"

"I don't need that much space," Lucanis replied. "Cleaning it all would be a waste of the servants' time."

"Practicality. Of course. You and Caterina do so excel at that." As he slouched against the bed post, Illario looked up at the crows in their branches painted on the ceiling.

Lucanis sighed. "Should I have another reason?"

"Oh, no. What other reason could there be?" Illario rolled his head to the side to meet his gaze again. "What man doesn't dream of moving into his dead parents' bedroom?"

His gaze flicked down to Lucanis's hands. "Careful. That's silk."

With a deep inhale, Lucanis forced his fingers to release their choking grip on the shirt in his hands. He carefully smoothed out the creases before adding it to the pile on the bed.

"What do you want, Illario?"

"Just wondering when your little Rook is coming to roost in our nest instead of de Riva's. My room shares a wall with this one, and I need to know if I should invest in ear plugs."

Spite had maintained an inhumanely long glare at Illario throughout the conversation, but at that, he blinked and looked at Lucanis. "Ear plugs?"

Lucanis just shook his head at him a little, but Illario caught the motion and straightened from his slouch to an alert stillness.

"It's here, isn't it?"

"Of course he's here. Where I am, he is."

"Wonderful," Illario sneered. "So we're going to have two additions to the household. I didn't think that would happen until Rook started popping out your demonspawn."

Spite's fury drowned Lucanis in a sudden surge, and the undertow dragged him under. He watched helplessly through a violet haze as his own hands grabbed Illario by the throat. Spite used his wings to fly across the room and slam Illario into the stone wall as Lucanis thrashed and Illario flailed, both trying to break the demon's grip.

Spite snapped his teeth in Illario's reddening face, and an echo of the Fade reverberated in his howl.

"You will not! Put a demon! IN ROOK!"

Spite had not taken over so completely without permission since Zara's death, and no matter what he tried, Lucanis could not regain control of his hands. In desperation, he scrambled for any sliver of control, no matter how small, and he found his voice.

"Spite! Stop! He didn't mean it like that!"

"He said! A demon! Would pop out! Of Rook!" Beneath the rage, Lucanis could feel the terror and revulsion that such an image induced in both of them.

"He didn't mean an actual demon!" Above Spite's hands, Illario's eyes bulged and his lips were turning purple. "He meant a baby!"

"Baby?"

Spite's momentary confusion gave Lucanis the crack of an opening he needed to release Illario. His cousin slid to the ground, choking and coughing, and Lucanis staggered back several steps before dropping to his knees. He gulped down air with almost as much urgency as Illario, his hold on Spite threadbare and strained.

"Why would? A baby? Come out? Of Rook?" Spite demanded.

"Mierda," Lucanis gasped. He felt near to hysteria and didn't know if it would come out as a laugh or a sob. "I promise I will explain later. But Illario was not threatening Rook. I swear."

"He better not," Spite muttered, and he separated from Lucanis to continue his baleful sulking from the corner.

Illario gaped at Lucanis from the floor, his eyes wide and the hand at his throat trembling.

"Maker," he rasped. "It will kill us all."

"No," Lucanis snapped. "He won't."

He stalked over to his cousin and lifted him to his feet with two fists curled in his shirt. It took every ounce of self-restraint not to slam Illario into the wall himself.

"Do you have any idea what we saw down there?" he spat. "How many people we saw split apart like overripe fruit as a demon clawed its way out?"

He shook Illario as his cousin continued to stare at him. "You will watch what you say, you will not threaten or attempt to harm anyone I care about, and you will never speak about or to Rook with anything but respect. Do you understand, cousin?"

Illario said nothing, and Lucanis released him with a small shove and a snarl of disgust. "Get out."

With shaky steps, Illario made his way to the door. He paused on the threshold, and Lucanis braced himself for whatever snide remark his cousin was about to throw at him.

Instead Illario looked back at him, serious and solemn. "I thought you were dead. I would never have wanted... that... for you."

Lucanis sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "I know. But it happened, and I have to live with the aftermath." He dropped his hands to shoot Illario a rueful smirk. "And now so do you. So I suggest you work on your manners."

Illario's blue eyes narrowed just a fraction, but he wisely stayed quiet and walked away without further comment. A wave of weariness washed over Lucanis, and he went back to the bed and sat on the end.

"I miss Rook," Spite growled.

Lucanis nodded. "Me too."

[numbersandstars]

Top 17 Most Mysterious Nakshatras

Purva Bhadrapada: The Dark Magician. Natives' boiling energy and their curiosity about the other worlds make them extreme in their spiritual practices. Depending on their level of maturity, they can fall into harsh malevolent practices. Natives usually have a lot of occult knowledge and most importantly, they can contact otherworldly entities, especially the aliens. They are connected to graveyards and some saints.

Ardra: The Ascetic Monk. Natives' power lies in their intense emotions. Their emotions can make them so tough they can ignore physical pain. They are healers, hermits. They tap into the energy of nature, mostly mountains and forests. They can predict the weather, they are able to bring rain. They can perform extreme spiritual practices.

Ashlesha: The Hypnotic Witch Queen. Sensitivity is natives' power. They can sense anything in their surroundings, hence a strong intuition. They can dive into the human soul and spot any weaknesses. They can read your mind. They are very magnetic. Natives should trust their Vastu/Feng Shui abilities and their healing skills.

Mula: The Exorcist. Natives have a strong root chakra, which makes them invincible. Thus, they are more sensitive to the telluric currents, the caves, the ruins and the ancient temples. They often deal with negative spirits and when they are well prepared, they can expel them. Natives are usually interested in the occult and they often do research in that field.

Shravana: The Wise Wizard. Natives' gift lies in their connection to the Source and their absorption ability. They can get glimpses of their past life memories, which help them in their current lifetime. For example, they can remember some bits of a language they used to speak in a previous life and use it in their job today. They can perceive guiding voices and see spirits. They easily sense their environment.

Shatabhisha: The Druid. Natives' mind is their strength. They are highly connected to nature, hence their healing abilities. They see things people do not: they are excellent at discovering occult secrets through many disciplines, such as medicine or astrology. They can invent new ways in their field, such as healing naturally. They can get involved in secret societies.

Jyeshtha: The Sorcerer King. Natives know the power of the occult too well. If they are scared of it, they cover themselves with protective talismans and do specific prayers. Or, if they do not, they perform strong rituals or they get involved in occult societies in order to gain power... But there is a price to pay.

Magha: The Archmage King. Natives' strength lies in their connection to their ancestors and their knowledge. They can dream of their ancestors and receive their messages. But because they can contact them, they can have out of body experiences, sometimes they can even have a near-death experience. Natives usually chase spiritual knowledge and occult powers and they end up mastering them very well.

Hasta: The Fortune Teller. Natives' power lies in their hands and words. They can be very good at palmistry, tarot card reading, healing (especially with hands)… Their mantras and spells are always highly effective.

Uttara Bhadrapada: The Mystic. Natives' strength lies in their connection to the atmosphere and clouds. That is why they are able to bring rain. They tap into rain and water's energy. Their spiritual practice is deep and their devotion to their Gods make them stronger... And threatening if they choose the wrong side.

Revati: The Psychic. Natives' power lies in their connection to the other worlds. They can have astral traveling experiences; they can contact the dead, the divinities; they can receive messages from beyond and become prophets.

Ashvini: The Healer. Natives' strength lies in their vitality and their connection to the other worlds. When they are in the medical field, they can perform miracles. They can discover secrets on life and immortality. They can be good at channeling spirits.

Bharani: The Ancient Patroness. Natives' power lies in their connection to the other worlds and their raw strength. They can connect to other planes and ghosts. Natives feel linked to the pyramids (in Egypt and/or from other places), some tombs of saints and the primordial feminine energy (shakti).

Purva Ashadha: The Regenerative Healer. Natives' strength lies in their incredible restoring vigor. Their energy is such that they can invigorate anyone around them, as well as crumbling activities. Natives do wonders with a pendulum.

Anuradha: The Seer. Natives’ power lies in their faculty to see and receive light as well as perseverance. In the deepest mud of people’s minds, using a coded chart, natives can find out people’s benevolent nature and their shameful secrets. Natives are hard working and patient. They keep so many secrets. That is why they can be very good at numerology, astrology and other occult sciences.

Dhanishta: The Element Master. Natives' strength lies in the natural elements and directions. They can become experts in Vastu or Feng Shui and fix a home. They are good in alchemy, reading pulses and other more spiritual practices.

Purva Phalguni: The Enchanted Fairy. Natives' power lies in their huge amount of luck. A problem happens, a native smiles and it is gone. They can be interested in the occult, usually the traditional knowledge, such as mantras, astrology, and palmistry.

[hoodreader]

𓂃 ♡⸝⸝ the entire chart is spiritual

anytime i see a post about spiritual gifts, it’s always like “12th 8th 4th” or “jupiter and neptune.” not untrue. i just feel like bc the entire chart is drawn from when the body takes its first breath and develops spirit, then naturally, the entire chart indicates spirit

sun . dreams, enlightenment, soul, life energy, religion, the beginning

moon . dreams (and messages in the dreams), mind, subconscious, psyche

mercury . connects the subconscious to the conscious, thoughts, the mind, spirit

venus . the power of creation

mars . life force, destruction

jupiter . guru, religion

saturn . fear, illness, isolation, karma, unconscious, death, the end

first . spirit, mind, mindset

second . sustinence (very spiritual), family, karma

third . dreams, emotions, prophetic messages, communities, intimate cultures, goddess

fourth . the unseen, unconscious, subconscious, fear, the dark, the night, ancestors

fifth . creation, energy transformed

sixth . the senses, the seen

seventh . yin & yang, balance, the other

eighth . ancestors, karma

ninth . god, enlightenment, awareness

tenth . legacy, how your spirit and life stretches past your existence, your descendants

eleventh . enlightenment, religion, community

twelfth . isolation, exile, solitude, meditation, death