#Types of Clairvoyance

[eli-writes-sometimes]

the prophet and his angel

Clearly he doesn't understand metaphors. If only we had time for a long discussion and debate about how you refer to your pre-transition self, whether I consider myself to have always been a man or if I was a girl who changed her mind a realised that she wasn't a girl anymore, and how all people's experiences are different. Unfortunately, it looks like there is still chance he's going to beat me up, so complex, nuanced discussions are going to have to wait. "What do you want me to say?" "I-- say it's not true!" He looks genuinely desperate. "What's not true?" "That you're not her- not Meredith!" "Oh, well then, of course. I'm not Meredith. I used to be, but she's dead now. I'm all that's left."

i'm so normal about these two

@meteorify some more FMB art for you :D

[thewolfisawake]

"Da?"

Balmoral gave a small hum to indicate he was listening as he annotated on the summary of grievances.

"What would you be doing if you weren't ruling?"

"It's nae my reality so ah cannae say."

"Surely, you've thought about it though. Once during day where you're buried in paperwork or sometime during the militia, right?"

"Naw."

"Never?"

"Aye."

"So you've gone this whole time...since like childhood, knowing that you were gonna be king? That you were going to be in charge of the Unseelie?"

Balmoral looked up from the papers, "Is thon so strange?"

"A little," Nathair admitted, "me and Sceolan were born in the palace and I'm sure we've thought about what else we'd be doing."

"And whit would that be?"

"Sceolan says she'd want to plan the communities. That she likes to see the world being built before her eyes."

A careful eye remarked, "And you, wee yin?"

"I'm hardly little anymore, da."

"So long as you're my boy, you'll always be a 'wee yin' tae me," Balmoral informed, chuckling at the petulant look from Nathair, "but what are your dreams?"

"To roam," Nathair said, "to just go with no destination in mind. To see where the winds take me and take in what I'd see."

"It's a nice dream. Wan you can take, Nathair. Ah'm nae hauding you nor your sister here. Ah have many years tae oversee and if ah have my way, you dinnae have tae worry aboot ruling either."

"I don't mind ruling, especially if it means you can try something new. Yeah, don't think I didn't notice you changing the subject. Mon, da, surely you can think of something you'd want to do? Like if someone took you by the hand and said 'let's go right now' there's nothing you can think of?"

The king set aside his paperwork to meet his child in earnest. But it was truly a conundrum to him. He had contingencies and plans as to all sorts questions that could be heaped upon him. But this was different. Asking him what was there besides his ambition? It was all that had driven him. All he had ever hoped for.

"Not really."

"Daaaaa..." Nathair drawled in a plea for his dad to take this seriously.

"Och aye, geez a minute," Balmoral replied. But it really was difficult. So he decided to run with the possibility that Nathair had laid forth. There was shifting within the lone multi-colored eye. As if they warped to help rearrange the scenario in his mind.

What came to his mind was years back. Back before he ever stepped foot in this palace. Back before he was even a blip to anyone's attention. A starry night as he was so fond of spent on the surface. It was an idle night with only two awake ruminating in the secrets shared over the course of these numerous nights. How hands clasp round his own and how red-orange shined with daring and determination.

Let's leave this fucked up place behind.

And how despite everything in his being that would kick and scream. How it would want to revolt...Balmoral could feel the strength in those hands and look into those eyes. And he'd believe them. And follow him anywhere so long as it was together. So they...escaped into the night.

"Maybe something like yours, wee yin," he finally voiced, "simply running far and beyond where we've known. Could be the hells, could be the mortal realm...only thing was that it'd never be returning tae where we've left."

"We?"

"Where else would you play oot in a' this, mo luran? Noo anymore questions or are you tae help me with these preparations?" Balmoral questioned back, quickly pushing aside that thought. It was a silly question after all. As he said, it wasn't his reality.

[thecupidwitch]

Different types of water and their magickal uses:

Sea water: good for curse/hex breaking, cleansing, healing, banishing and protection spells.

Dew water: beauty, love and fertility spells, as well as delicate magick. Also Good for Fae work.

Storm water: is great for spells and rituals that has to do with emotional strength, confidence, charge, motivation and force. It’s known for strengthening spells. Also good for curses.

Snow water: Spells and rituals that focus on purity, endings and change, as well as slow working spells.

River water: Good for creating changes, moving on and letting go of negativity, warding and focusing energy.

Rain water: Very multi-purpose, but specifically great for growth and rebirth spells. Great for spells that you want to keep gaining power over time.

Spring water: Growth, holy water, cleansing, protection, prosperity

Moon water: Depending on the moon phase it was created in, it can have different properties.

Sun Water: protection, healing, clairvoyance, courage, strength, prosperity, luck, self-love, cleansing and creativity.

Swamp Water: Used for banishing and binding.

tip-jar

[aidaisukirose]

Astro Obs

Hi, welcome to my first ever post and hope you enjoy

Vrigo moon - most likely to clean entire house when stressed out

Scorpio moon - most likely to have toxic dad talk bad about the mom or something. Definitely have strong respect towards women and deep understanding of their own emotional realm, but can also easily be the type to not give a dam what anyone feels besides them coz they get that caught up, without Neptune influence

Gemini moon - most likely to have mom who gets cheated by dad or father allows child to see their mother as flighty or just as a very aggressive person who talks to them a lot more like a bestie

Taurus moon- mommy issues where the mom is not based in reality and gives gift an thing financial in order to soothe the child, often dark side can be over spending on them and blaming if have any chiron, Saturn, etc(malefics) in 2nd house especially with chiron, wounded healer, giving from an empty cup

Pisces moon - most likely to have mom who is involved in either a cult or some religion, if not then possibly and idk why but usually working in the nursing field on the up side. Though, on the downside possible drug involvement coz Pisces need to just take a break from reality entirely a lot of the time

Neptune influence on any fall or detriment placements like (mercury in cancer or venus in Virgo) will automatically change a lot, simply that is in my opinion from Neptune causing projection very strongly especially in square aspect

Libra men are very much centered around friends- air signs are all about that - though libra can be very relationship oriented often they may get into relationships just to be with someone or be loved, though this may end up being their life problem more so as

For Scorpio it can be the same way but with fuck buddies, unless they have Scorpio venus or moon to match with it because if there is much more air influence it can easily turn an underdeveloped Scorpio into a fuckboy or player type. Though, naturally Scorpio are more oriented towards being involved in some sort of religion which can otherwise make their sexual nature more repressed, especially in Scorpio mars/mercury; they won't even think of something if it's not allowed. They're dirty minded though at the same time somehow

Pisces men with Gemini moon their moms are like their pals, but also they respect them, and the father is probably quite goofy a lot with them, but tend to have a good silly vibe to the Pisces sun Gemini moon masculine individual

10th house moons can be very easily attention grabbing, or they didn't get a lot of it when they needed it in their younger years and over time they learned to wear their emotions on their sleeve very attractive to many people

Pisces mercury/mercury 12th or retrograde have constant struggles involving being misunderstood since theyre minds are quite abstract, they're very likely to be clairvoyant

Taurus suns most likely to be clairsentient and can have a very distinct sense of smell

Ppl who believe in God but don't believe in ghosts very much concern me

- Quick debrief-

Clairvoyance - see ghosts and may speak with them

Clairsentient - supernatural sense of smell

Clairaudio - can hear ghosts and anything beyond natural world

Etc... many of the clairs are kept out of society and labeled as bipolar, skitzo, or anything like that and given drugs that often have side effects including depression or especially sedation effects 🤔 hmm interesting...

Most times those who are not willing to speak on the subject are using those realities for their own gain so best not to speak about it, until there was no longer anything to stop me from speaking out, though once i finally did it the abusers and users' true colors shown for all to see

Anyways

Thank you for reading! <333

P.S. :

Be good do good 👍 ❤️

[thewertsearch]

ARADIA: karkat i dont know if anyone cares about formal ranks like that anymore ARADIA: or if anyone ever did! ARADIA: but for what its worth i suggest that from now on you all listen closely to the advice of our human guests

Rose I completely agree with - but Dave? I don't know if he's really the leader type.

I guess he does share a Class with Karkat, who was fairly effective as a leader, albeit a little unorthodox. Perhaps Dave has the same potential, and we just haven't seen it yet.

ARADIA: tactically speaking a knight of time and a seer of light is a nearly unbeatable combination

Well, if this isn't a fucking rabbit hole of a line. As always, new Title exposition is delivered in the most cryptic manner imaginable - but it still might be possible to glean some new insight from this information.

We know that Rose is some sort of clairvoyant. We've never been told anything about what Knights do, but we have just learned that Dave's powers work extremely well in combination with Rose's. What sort of role would synergize this well with a Seer of Light?

Well, since Rose provides information, then maybe Dave's role is to turn that information into a plan of action, converting raw data into something that's tactically useful. Such an interpretation certainly fits Karkat, a fellow Knight - but I don't know if it fits Dave.

ARADIA: the knight of time is not necessarily the tactician

Oh.

Never mind, then.

ARADIA: he is a powerful warrior class which exploits the flow of time as a weapon

...do mine eyes deceive me? Is a Homestuck character just straight-up explaining a Class to us, with zero ambiguity?

I never thought I'd see the day - but neither will I be looking a gift horse in the mouth. Let's analyze.

Knights weaponize their Aspect.

Dave, the Knight of Time, fights with a time-shifting sword, exploiting his own temporal duplicates to overwhelm and outnumber his opponents. He is, in fact, the only member of his team to wield his Aspect in a fight - at least, prior to John's ascension - and now we know why. In the hands of a Knight, an Aspect is a sword.

Weaponizing time doesn't have to mean 'using it in combat', either. When Terezi attacked the kids' timeline, Dave 'fought back' with his time machines, sending himself into the past to undo the damage she'd done. He's actively adversarial towards Terezi while doing this; it really does feel like he's fighting her, rather than merely resolving a problem she's caused.

Karkat, then, weaponizes Blood - and I think I'm beginning to understand what that means.

I initially pegged Blood as the aspect of genetics, since Karkat's a geneticist, and people who share DNA are said to be 'blood relatives'. Karkat doesn't really 'weaponize' genetics, but there is a concept he's closely tied to - one that I do think he's been wielding like a sword.

Leadership.

Through sheer force of belligerence, Karkat assembled twelve highly dangerous teenagers into a single, relatively cohesive unit. Vriska was pretty sure that without their glorious leader, the trolls would have devolved into infighting - which she, being Vriska, viewed as a good outcome. Classic.

Karkat saved these trolls - and he did it by turning them into a ruthless force of destruction, with him at the helm. This is the essence of Blood - its meaning is in the general area of leadership, teamwork, and people skills.

After all, the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.

ARADIA: the seer class knows her aspect comprehensively ARADIA: as a knower of all fortune she can see the circuitous path that will lead to the most favorable outcome for everyone

She can? Jesus, that sounds much, much more powerful than my own interpretation of her powers. It almost sounds like...

TEREZI: TH4T SOUNDS 4 LOT MOR3 US3FUL TH4N MY S33R POW3RS >:[ ROSE: Illumination of the road to victory for all is an asset considerably different from command over the outcomes of decisions made by individuals.

THE ROAD TO WHAT?

[vidals-harkness]

sleepless nights (agatha harkness, rio vidal)

summary: having a toddler means a lot of work for parents. having a clairvoyant toddler, that’s the real test. especially when the lights go out.

fic type: fluff

pairings: agatha harkness x rio vidal x fem!child!reader

warnings: nightmares, tooth-rotting fluff, agathario being sweet but with an attitude with each other

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

Clairvoyance. The ability to see and sense spirits, in layman’s terms. Not an easy power to have, let alone be a child with it.

The night was calm and peaceful, the moon rising with each passing hour, the sounds of nightlife subtle in the cold autumn air. However, your sleep was anything but calm.

You were in the park, your favourite park, going on the swings while your Mama pushed you gently. Mami sat on the swing beside you, laughing and talking, making funny jokes every now and then.

But something was wrong.

Their faces remained out of focus, their words were a muffled jumble. Was that screaming you heard in the distance? Were the clouds coming in?

You turned your head and Mami was gone. The swing stopped, and so was Mama. In the distance you saw them walking down the pathway, swallowed up by the fog. You tried to get off the swing, tried to run after them, tried to scream.

You couldn’t move. The ground seemed so far away, your voice was stuck in your throat. You put a hand up to touch your lips but were met with smooth skin.

The air grew chilly, and the screams grew louder. The whistle of a train carried it to your ears with a sharp, shrill tone.

You covered your ears and closed your eyes. Suddenly you stood in a courtroom, the jury were all spirits, and the judge opened his mouth, unhinging it like a snake, from the inside of which came a loud scream, “WHY DON’T YOU LISTEN?”

“I listen, I listen, I hear you!” You exclaimed. The sound of a sword had you turn. Mami. She swung it at your head…

…your eyes opened to a cemetery laden with snow. You stood in front of twin graves, bearing the names ‘Agatha Harkness’ and ‘Rio Vidal’. Your tears were red; blood. They ran down your soft cheeks and dotted the white ground red.

The cloudy day turned to night, and then you felt them grabbing, screaming, crying, wailing. Calling for help, begging for mercy.

“I can’t, I can’t, I CAN’T!” You screamed, covering your ears and crouching down at Mama’s headstone, trying to drown them out. But that amplified it all.

The ground opened up, swallowed you whole, and down, down, down you fell into the bottomless black.

Your eyes snapped open and you shoved the covers from your body. Your hair was sticking to your neck, damp with sweat. Tears streamed down your face and you checked hurriedly to make sure that they weren’t blood. Once that was confirmed, you heaved a sigh of relief.

Your plush spider was on the ground, pink blush and tiny smile upside down, its glass eyes staring up at you. You picked it up, dusted it off and gave it a kiss—apologising quietly.

You held the spider close, sliding out of bed. You shivered as the floor felt unnaturally cold on your bare little feet, as you made your way down the corridor to your parents’ room.

The door was open, so you padded in quietly, poking Agatha’s side.

“Mama?” Your voice was a quiet whisper, but she didn’t stir. You poked again, harder this time, frowning, heart racing as tears came up in your eyes. “Mama?”

Agatha opened her eyes, blinking tiredly to get somewhat conscious. At the sight of your crying face, she sat up, looking concerned.

“Hiya hon…” she whispered. “What’s the matter?”

You began to cry with relief when she spoke, which made Rio snap awake as well.

In seconds, Agatha had you up and in their bed, under the covers between them. They both lay on their sides, facing you, while they tried to solve the problem.

You were still crying, barely able to form a coherent sentence, so with simple questions they began to understand.

“Mi amor,” Rio’s voice was quiet as she ran her fingers through your hair, sighing at how damp it was with sweat. “Mi amor, was it a nightmare?”

You wordlessly nodded, fidgeting with your spider as a look passed between them.

Agatha spoke this time, her palm resting on your stomach as she patted a gentle rhythm on it. “Was it a one, five, or a ten?”

“N-Nine,” you admitted quietly, sniffling.

“Alright, alright…” she nodded slowly. “Wanna tell Mama and Mami was it was about?”

You shook your head quietly, turning over and burying your face in Rio’s chest.

The woman wrapped her arms around you, holding you close as her and Agatha had a bit of ‘eye conversation’.

“Amor…” Rio patted your back gently, making you look up at her. She wiped your eyes with her shirt and asked, “You want a little something to eat, nena?”

You nodded, sniffling a little. “Yes…”

It just took that one response to have Agatha scoop you up and out of bed, going towards the kitchen, Rio following.

“Who’s on nightmare snack duty today?” Agatha asked, placing you on the counter.

Rio rolled her eyes, turned to you and smiled, “What do you want to have, nena?”

“Milk. And cookies,” your standard answer.

“Excellent choice,” Agatha commented, tickling your sides to make you giggle.

Honestly, hearing you giggle was like a huge sigh of relief for them. Agatha and Rio both hated seeing you so distressed, but they knew all they could do at this time was lend comfort and love.

While Agatha grabbed the milk and cookies, Rio picked you up and held you in her arms, trying to rock you to drowsiness gently.

“Nena?” She asked quietly. As you hummed in response, inhaling the scent of her skin. She smelt distinctly like cinnamon and something slightly smoky, and it honestly relaxed you.

“What did you see, tonight? Was it clear, like a vision?” She asked, rubbing your back slowly.

“No, was blurry,” you mumbled, accepting the milk Agatha handed you, her hand gently ruffling your hair. You squealed at the milk and sipped on it, Rio sitting down on the couch.

“Baby…” Agatha said, giving you a look.

“What? It was bad dream only, and I don’t wanna talk about it!” You grumped.

“She’s your daughter,” Rio winked at her wife, earning an eye roll from Agatha.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, little miss has an attitude,” she scoffed.

Rio kissed your forehead gently, tickling your sides once you had handed the cup over to Agatha, making you giggle again.

“Is someone finally ready for bed?” Agatha said with mock-annoyance, making you poke her cheeks, smiling.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You grinned excitedly.

“And I assume you’re sleeping with Mami and Mama?” Rio smiled, taking you to their room while Agatha turned off the lights.

“Yes,” you nodded pointedly, holding your spider close to your chest. “Araña also,”

She chuckled. You loved that spider Agatha won for you at that one random carnival.

The three of you got into bed, and you trembled a little when Agatha flicked the lights off.

However, that fear was quelled the second your Mami wrapped her arms around you, and Agatha stroked your hair.

“My sweet, sweet lamb,” she chuckled, “What are we gonna do with you, hm?”

“Nothing, you love me,” you said plainly, giggling quietly.

“Don’t listen to Mama,” Rio sighed, kissing your forehead. “Get some sleep, nena,”

You nodded and hummed, slowly drifting off to sleep, visions kept at bay by your mothers.

That night, which began so terrifying and jarring, ended in peace and quiet, the moon rising high above the sky, while the nightlife continued as per usual.

And everything was still.

Hi hi, my bao buns! I hope you enjoyed this imagine! Parental Agathario is just so *chefs kiss*, don’t you think? Anyway, requests are open, and don’t be shy if you have something in mind!

[eviesaurusrex]

"I am here." | B. Sorrengail

Brennan Sorrengail x Riorson!Reader

summary: Brennan knows she can handle herself and keep herself nurtured—but why should she if he can easily take care of her?

word count: 1.8k

warnings: pure fluff, reader is described as being independent and doesn’t accept any help at all, acts of services as a love language, Brennan is a softie, reader has the cold, cooking, short mention of clairvoyant abilities as a signet, mention of a not ideal childhood

author’s note: This idea came to life thanks to this post from @theseinfernalangels Thank you for the inspiration! <3 The dividers are made by @enchanthings-a

dragon name—Mór-ríoghan | Mór

Ever since they had first met in front of the parapet, Brennan Sorrengail had known.

He had known how hard he would fall for her—already happening after one glance from her and the slight tip of her lips despite the situation they soon had faced. It had gotten worse over the course of the following passing weeks until he hadn’t held back any longer. Not after they both had survived Threshing with a bonded dragon as their prize—and a few new scars as proof of their overcoming.

Even then, YN had been independent to a fault, only ever letting go of it when they flew formations. It was no surprise to him when she was named Section Leader and Wing Leader and continued on with her career after their graduation. Not with that signet of hers. Brennan still felt guilt gnawing at him in moments of retrospection, knowing she must have known of the day of his presumed death before he had even left for the battle. The guilt turned all-consuming every time she woke crying in the depth of night, startled by yet another nightmare of his death, her hands grasping for his body and clinging to him as if her life depended on it.

He did not mind, obviously. Those rare moments of helplessness, of being unable to hold herself together… Brennan did not relish in them, of course not, but he felt needed in a way she rarely expressed because YN wasn’t the type of woman who needed anyone. And yet, she had confessed her love to him all those years ago and had waited for him despite not knowing for certain if he would ever come back to her.

He had only left Riorson House for not more than an hour. He had headed to the market in the early morning after waking up to a coughing and wheezing YN; her body flushed with a fever, her cheeks warm to the touch. Brennan hadn’t imagined for her to wake up in the next couple of hours, not with the cold running havoc within her body after the last patrol she flew, but he was proven differently when he closed the door behind him, a pack of vegetables and herbs resting comfortably in the crook of his arm.

The clatter of knives, pots, and plates traveled through the hallway, and his eyes landed on Xaden, Violet, and Garrick standing on the threshold of the sunlit kitchen, watching something or someone. “Is Bodhi trying to bake again?” His question made them turn their heads one at a time before his sister looked back again, her forehead furrowed. “Not particularly…?”

Relief flooded the eldest Sorrengail because that disaster was something neither of them needed another time, especially if it involved fire and smoke poisoning again.

But the relief was short-lived when the familiar cough was heard between pots clattering and a mumbled swear. He was quick and stepped next to his friends, eyes raking over the kitchen, and found YN within a heartbeat, wrapped in her favorite blanket that dragged across the floor like a train behind her, her nose obviously being through a lot since he had left her in bed this morning.

“I offered to help, but…,” Garrick started and trailed off. “You know how she is,” Xaden ended the sentence with a grumble, obviously not fond of his older sister dragging herself around in such a state, arms crossed in front of his chest. Violet nudged Brennan softly. “I tried to get her back to bed, offered some of that tea Mira brought, but all she did was grumbling and mumbling No. She’s so much like you.” The last part was directed at Xaden hovering in her back, and he only rolled his eyes at that. “Well, they do share blood. And Fen wasn’t the most present father.” Garrick’s comment made Brennan’s heart clench just like every time YN had told him about her childhood and growing up as the firstborn Riorson—and not being the boy that was demanded by some ludicrous wedding contract.

Xaden stared at him, almost unblinking, and Brennan cocked a brow in return before pushing through the small group and nudging them back into the hallway. “Stop hovering and let me do my job, all right?” The other Riorson huffed at that, but Violet was quick to take his arm and lead him away, distracting him from wanting to beat Brennan up again. The Sorrengail didn’t need another one of his beatings, not when YN was still trying to cook herself a meal despite him being able to do it just fine for her.

With a soft sigh, he stepped into the kitchen and placed his purchase on the countertop, rounding the island with slow, measured steps in order not to startle her. His eyes raked over her form, taking in her slumped posture, the shake of her shoulders every time another cough rattled her tired body, her voice barely audible when she softly spoke to her dragon.

“I am as bright as day, Mór. I can make me some bloody soup without passing out.”

But Brennan didn’t believe that for one second, so his hands got a gentle hold of her shoulders, his thumbs caressing the soft fabric of her blanket. She didn’t even flinch, probably already anticipating him because they certainly weren’t quite when they had watched her rummaging in here, trying to cook something.

“Why aren’t you in bed, darling? Where you belong with that cold, might I add?” His voice was soft, and Brennan pressed a gentle kiss on the curve between shoulder and neck, feeling the heat of her body warring against the cold on his skin. A raspy groan was heard from her while she tried to hold onto the knife in her hand, which slightly shook with every cough. “Not you as well,” YN mumbled with a frown thrown his way across her shoulder, but his hand closing softly around the knife handle made her pause. “Love, I have every right to be concerned for your wellbeing. Let me help.” The Sorrengail tried to be as gentle and soft as possible, trying to coax her into finally letting him step up and help her for once, but the suspicion in her eyes wouldn’t vanish.

“Why would I let you cook when I am clearly capable of doing it myself? I’m not dying, Brennan, I am just sick. It's barely worth mentioning.” YN tried to cut through the first carrot she had found in the pantry but was forced to stop when another bone-rattling cough wracked her body, her fingers grasping for purchase at the edge of the wooden countertop. Brennan was right there, wrapping his arms supportively around her shaking and softly swaying body, holding her upright and steady. “Why would you need to cook yourself when I’m here, offering my help? You don’t have to do everything on your own, my love. Not anymore, at least. I am here, and I am here to stay and to help whenever and wherever I can if you’d just allow it.”

He wasn’t sure if the eldest Riorson even knew how useless he sometimes felt in the wake of her independence. Yes, Brennan was drawn to it—unmistakably so—but he needed to do things for her. He had started sorting their clothes and handling their leathers; he mended her boots as soon as the sole was thinning, and washed her hair after a particularly long day when she was too tired to even mutter a single word. Most things he did for her were quiet ones, ones she wouldn’t suspect, but Brennan wanted to do more.

So much more.

After a childhood where she had to raise not only herself but her brother as well, she deserved nothing less, in his opinion.

Slowly turning in his arms, YN looked up at him, brows still furrowed in uncertainty, eyes still holding that suspicious gleam he had grown to love just as well over the years. His fingers gently pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, still tangled from the restless sleep, watching her analyzing his plea. “You can command me around to your heart’s content, Major Riorson,” he teased quietly, a smirk playing across his lips and a soft laugh escaping him when he felt her hitting his shoulder without force. “You know how to cook the chicken soup my grandmother used to make?” Skepticism laced YN’s words, and Brennan couldn’t hold back but tap the tip of her nose with one of his fingers. “I’m sure I can learn while doing it.”

Huffing at his lack of experience, the Riorson allowed him to lead her to the chair right at the vast kitchen island in the middle of the room, eyeing the vegetables and herbs he had brought from the market scrutinizingly. “You could’ve chosen a better-looking thyme.” Brennan smiled brightly at the comment while washing his hands and returning to the carrots waiting to be diced, a kettle now starting to boil next to him. “Don’t be a grump, my love,” the man smiled across his shoulder, grinning to himself at the roll of her eyes but the smile tucking at her lips.

“We are getting somewhere, Marbh,” he chuckled down their bond and felt his dragon huff in relief in the back of his mind. “Finally. Mór would not let me sleep in peace because she is worried for YN. I will let her know.”

Humming while he chopped the vegetables, YN lectured him with soft words and an even softer tone, and he felt her gaze on the back of his neck, letting pleasant goosebumps erupt on his body and a pleased shiver run across his back. It felt good doing this for her—more than good.

When the water boiled, the Sorrengail grabbed a mug and steeped some tea, placing it right in front of her folded hands, and pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of her head. “Do you need sugar? Honey?” Her eyes softened even more when YN looked up at him then, and without thinking, let one of her hands raise and cup his cheek lovingly. “Honey, please,” she whispered raspily, smiling gently when Brennan got a hold of her wrist and kissed the palm of her hand, quickly returning with the small jar of gathered honey from the bees right outside the city. “Thank you.”

The words fell so softly from her lips, the copper-haired giant almost could’ve missed them if he wasn’t so tuned in on YN after the years they had spent together. “You will never have to thank me for anything, my love. This will always come freely.” Another kiss was pressed to her head before he returned to the preparation of her soup, and while he chopped and sliced and diced, YN told him step for step what he had to do next, watching him with the unwavering warmth spreading inside her body that certainly wasn’t the making of the tea cupped by her hands.

Thank you so much for reading my silly little fanfiction! Please consider leaving a like, a comment, and a reblog—it would mean the world to me <3

[animatewarriorcats]

Riverstar! I listened to his super edition recently and actually liked it quite a lot. I know there have been a lot of critiques of it as having undermined his character in the Dawn of the Clans but idk I thought it was humanizing and kind of funny to see him swimming around in the dark pretending to be wise haha. As a founder he was the one that received the least characterization, and knowing he came from the park cats it was always a story I wanted to see more of. I like the idea that he is so spontaneous that he mostly repeats back what cats share with him and then they think he is special because of it, but doesn't actually have a lot of clairvoyance beyond a normal cat.

I gave him a bit of mane hair, similar to tree to try to capture a yoga teacher vibe in combination with his face stripes mimicking facial hair ha. His body type is based off of a Norwegian forest cat, and I think for the 'breeds' I'll be modeling Riverclan from will be Norwegians, Turkish Van, Bengals in the case of leopardstar ha, Bobtails/Manx, and wild fishing cats. This isn't because I think clans are purebreds, but characteristics of these breeds lend them toward water. I specifically am excluding Maine Coons however, because their size is their breed trait and in my mind that's the Sisters haha.

[bunny-claws]

grimoire organization ideas 🔮

what is a grimoire?

a grimoire can be defined as a book of magical spells and invocations; sometimes used interchangeably with "book of shadows" but you can call it whatever you want.

what should i write my grimoire in / on?

a grimoire can be handwritten or typed, there is no wrong way to construct your grimoire. (for example, my grimoire is typed in a onenote document but also stretched across many, many different notebooks and composition books)

what can i put in my grimoire?

about the author

favorites: color, magical tools, herbs, crystals

tarot birth card, astrology birth chart, personal beliefs, relationship with deities or other spiritual beings

basics 

intent

visualization

meditation

terminology

protection, cleansing, & banishing using various energies: shields & wards, circle casting / take down, protective amulets

enchanting items 

clockwise vs. counterclockwise 

other how-to’s, such as anointing items and dressing a candle

general correspondences

days of the week, lunar phases, colors, incense, essential oils, elements

correspondences based on intent 

protection, healing, cleansing, banishing, luck, wealth, love, emotions, mental clarity, psychic awareness, cursing, etc.

altar ideas

crystals

crystal grid designs, crystal correspondences & folklore, gem water / crystal elixir recipes, crystal care 

herbs, spices, plants, flowers, & trees

correspondences, edible vs. non-edible, botanicals with medicinal value, folklore, gardening 

divination

tarot, runes, pendulum, scrying, etc.

spreads

interpretations 

astrology

birth chart + traits, planetary correspondences, planetary hours, zodiac correspondences, moon / star / sun water

sigils & symbols

how to create, personal sigils, other symbols & talismans 

psychic abilities 

identification of personal abilities (clairvoyance, claircognizance, clairaudience, clairsentience, clairambience, etc.)

meditation techniques to strengthen abilities 

personal experiences

important dates

sabbats, wheel of the year, magical anniversaries, astronomical & astrological phenomena (meteor showers, planetary alignments, etc.)

recipes

food

potions (potions are edible and consumable liquids!!!)

beauty products: salt scrubs, sugar scrubs, lotions, lip balm

natural remedies: salves, ointments, balms, poultices 

cleaning products: floor washes, window cleaner, wood cleaner, etc.

powders

witchy crafts

glitter jars, witch ladders, wand-making, crystal jewelry, etc. 

spells & enchantments

sachets, spell jars / bottles, knot magic, candle spells, powder spells, curses, protective magic, etc.

magical goals

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

good luck! ✨

© 2025 bunny-claws

[junosmindpalace]

can you make a scenario where saiki accidentally makes his s/o cry so now he literally panicking trying to calm her down? and then out of guilt for the next few weeks he doing all these sweet things for her?

lots of fluff please!

hi there! thank you for your request!

Last week, Saiki was caught up in an incident.

There was just a lot going through his mind, alright? His parents were on his case about errands--particularly his father, exhausting his powers for his own needs--and his friends kept finding ways to drag him along in their endeavors, and he was worn out; both physically and mentally. 

The second he thinks he gets a mental break to himself to recover, you come along and try to make conversation with that irritatingly cheerful voice he’s been having to listen to as people tear him from limb to limb trying to get him to do this and that for them.

So he accidentally comes off a little harsh when he tells you with a murderous glare to just leave him alone. 

And you know Saiki, and Saiki knows you. You know the stress he’s often under, and he knows you just want to spend some time with him. Neither of you have a problem with either of these things usually, but today, it was just a jumble of emotions and some miscommunication that made it all fall apart. 

You try to understand, and you do! But even still, you couldn’t help feeling bad for upsetting him, and are unable to prevent the stray tears that pricked at your eyes from rolling down your cheeks. You immediately wipe them away with the palm of your hand and give him an apologetic smile, but Saiki immediately panics. 

He panics a little simply recalling the incident, even a week later when you’ve practically forgotten all about your crying and getting your feelings hurt. Still, Saiki feels bad, and ever since the incident occurred, he’s been trying to dull the guilt and sense of obligation to compensate for his actions in his heart. 

But though it doesn't seem like he's doing anything unique to an outsider who may not know him very well, you can tell the small shift in his attitude toward you in the weeks following the incident.

Seeing you splayed out in distress over a desk is a sight Saiki has become accustomed to with all the time you spend studying together. Typically, a couple of "motivating" words from him telling you to just pull yourself together and break down the material is enough to get you to begrudgingly pull yourself up and work. As of late, however, he'll tells you to stop moaning about your work when it gets too difficult to understand or you’re too tired to comprehend any of the material, and to just copy off him. He words it in a way that makes it seem that it's to his benefit, but usually Saiki wasn’t the type to lend you his work, believing that you should put in effort yourself, even when you’re whining about it. 

He sacrifices life and limb to help you with your daily tasks. Mundane things he knows you can handle yourself, but now his absolute first instinct is to immediately look for ways he can help you, even if he rolls his eyes and reprimands you at first. Lost something of yours? He’s using clairvoyance to track it down. Forgot something at a certain place when you go out? He’s fighting off traffic, interrogations from his friends, and all the other absurd obstacles he often finds interfering in his everyday life just so he can bring it back to you without raising suspicions of his powers. 

And if all those things weren’t obvious enough he’s been trying to atone, he buys you sweets. All of your favorites over the past couple of weeks, paid in full by him whenever the two of you order or stop by a bakery or restaurant. Maybe one found on your desk throughout the school day. He even shares with you his own if you ask or eye them longingly. 

All of these seemingly menial acts leave you a little suspicious, especially since it had been days since the event happened, and it hadn't taken much time for you to come around from the incident and continue being yourself. You expected that his offer to listen to your rant would be the extent of his atonement. Could he really still be stuck on it?

Your speculation is pretty much confirmed that these things were all attempts at making up for his poor behavior when he finds him yet again in a similar situation, exhausted and frustrated thanks to all the nuisances in his life. And then you come skipping along happily, greeting him with news of your day. His brows furrow, his eye twitches, and he’s about to open his mouth. And then he meets your gaze and he pauses. Takes a second. Remembers what happened last time, can see a flash of that pained face you made. 

You give him a look of confusion as you observe his expression. At that point, he can only sigh and slump back. 

"Saiki?”

"Let’s just go home and talk.”

You might catch onto his drained attitude, and offer to take him to one of his favorite dessert places as a treat to refresh and an apology for not recognizing his burden sooner. He’s immediately brightened by this, of course, and you end off with a win-win situation, with Saiki being able to wind down with some treats, and you being able to spill about your day sitting across from him.

[joequiinn]

To Solve a Crooked Rhyme | r x medium!reader | prol.

Story Summary | To commune with the dead was second nature, as familiar to you as the back of your hand. Seances and ouija boards, psychometry and automatic writing - the tools of your trade. Little did you know what kind of creature would come to prey upon you in pursuit of your gifts, though...

Story Warnings, Themes | fem reader, mature content, horror themes, 1890s northeastern setting, spiritualism (possible historical inaccuracies), various vampire lores used, canon typical blood/gore etc, cat-and-mouse vibes, slight use of 3rd person narrative

Author's Note | I've always found the spiritualism movement utterly fascinating, and what better place to explore it than in a vampire fic? As stated above, there may be historical inaccuracies (please view note on series masterlist linked below) and I'm playing with different types of vampire lore in mind, but I hope it all comes together well! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for future installments, let me know - 18+ only, no ageless blogs!

WC | 2.3K

[series masterlist]

!!! MINORS DNI !!!

He heard a voice reach out across the expanse, something forever far away and yet a tickle upon his neck. It was a whisper not intended for his ears, ghost-like in its dreaminess, bringing him to an abrupt pause when it managed to penetrate his mind as if it belonged there. Both so like and unlike the collective of voices he’d grown accustomed to hearing in this shared consciousness that came with vampirism; he’d upped his mental defenses enough that few could break through them, allowing him some peace within his eternity.

But this. This was something else.

In all his centuries as a creature of the night, so very few have been able to reach within him like this. But she somehow struck through his energy in a way that made his blood stir, that sent a shiver rolling up his spine. What a strange and fleeting sensation for someone of the undead. What an enticing thing to want to feel again.

The woman’s voice was even in tone, slow and methodical, a hint dramatic, perhaps for performance sake. And it drew him like a month to flame. He followed after the voice, chasing an invisible thread with a strange, innate understanding that something in his blood seemed to recognize her call.

It ebbed and flowed in his grasp as if he couldn't quite make the voice tangible, far enough away that only a few words were made clear:

“… are seeking… speak to you… your passing…”

He already understood what this woman was - he could feel it from the very moment that her voice managed to pierce inside his head like a swift arrow breezing past his cheek. A clairvoyant, a mentalist, a psychic - there were a dozen names for her line of work, and likely a dozen more that he wasn’t familiar with. And amidst an array of frauds and scam artists making a quick buck off others’ grief, this voice was the real thing, one that felt unlike any seers he’d encountered before.

He could feel it upon her voice as it danced around him, the weight of her words heavy, the scope of her ability wide. There were stories of those that could wake the dead, that could reach into realms beyond with only their voice. Yes, this was the nature of psychics, whose trade was built upon connecting with spirits. But he knew this one was different - she was the voice that could make time stand still, that could fold it like paper into a new, intricate shape. So uniquely gifted - so very easy for something insidious to target.

Oh, the things he could do with a voice like that…

“Where Lagan stream sings lullaby There blows a lily fair”

The song was a distant, cavernous echo, so far off that you could barely hear its tune, as if perhaps you simply imagined it. But, of course, you knew better than that - your senses were always sharp, for better or for worse - and thus it gave you pause. For although spirits were prone to strange and brief disruptions such as this, they usually weren’t quite so melodic and lilting.

You had hoped to read at least a chapter or two of your book before bed, but evidently that wasn’t going to happen. You set aside the novel that was resting in your lap, brow furrowing with curiosity, though nothing else met your ears aside from the buzzing of cicadas out your window. Ghosts were in the habit of making themselves known to you, yet as you looked about the room there was nothing unusual or of note to be found - no shadowy movements, no trinkets falling off shelves, no ghastly reflected faces in your mirror.

Curious about the faint interruption, you closed your eyes and sat up a little straighter, concentrating in the hopes that the unfamiliar tune would find its way back to you. Perhaps the spirit hadn’t meant to draw your attention at all, but on the off-chance that they were, you simply had to listen again. Though briefly you considered that the dreamy voice may be floating in through the thin walls from one of your neighbors’ tenement, you already knew that wasn’t true - you could feel that it was coming from somewhere just beyond the physical world.

Your whole life you’d seen and heard things that others simply couldn’t - and perhaps shouldn’t. The calls of wayward spirits were as familiar to you as your own voice, as commonplace as the sight of your reflection. It was an inherited trait, this connection with the supernatural, passed down by your grandmother who was renowned and trusted for her ability to commune with ghosts back in the heyday of the spiritualism movement. You could barely remember the woman, for you were so small when she left this world. Following her death, she willfully passed onto whatever was next, leaving you without answers to all the questions that sprouted up through the years. Thus, you had to hone those skills all on your own.

“The twilight gleam is in her eye The night is on her hair”

Ah, there he was, that silky voice coaxing you; how strange for him to sound both retreating from and approaching you at the same time. More often than not, you were able to pin down a spirit’s location with relative ease; it had been a long while since you had to chase after anyone, as generally ghosts weren’t that complicated.

You’d gotten in the habit of visualizing the spiritual energies surrounding you like tree roots - winding and weaving, seemingly endless, but not impossible to navigate with enough attention to detail. If you found the right root, you could follow it all the way to the base, to the spirit lingering at the end. Unable to identify where exactly he was, you took a deep breath, focusing and wondering again if this ghost knew he was heard and if he wanted you to find him.

Tonight had already been quite busy for you, your energy worn thin from the meeting you’d had with a woman named Mrs. Clemens regarding her husband’s death. You’d heard about her loss even before she reached out to you, seeing his name written about in the paper - apparently, his corpse looked as if it had been mauled by a wild animal, though the details beyond that were withheld from the public.

Evidently, Mrs. Clemens was dissatisfied with the police investigation; much of your time spent in your first meeting was filled by her venting her frustrations and you simply listening to the best of your ability. You’d be the first to admit that you were better with the dead than with the living. She turned to you in the hopes that you may offer her some clarity on her husband’s mysterious death, on what truly happened and what the police may have not made her privy to.

And, whether for better or for worse, you had given her some details, though they were scant at best. You managed to connect with Mr. Clemens rather quickly, giving you the suspicion that he was just as unimpressed with the police as his widow, though with his ghost still so fresh he struggled to remember that he was, in fact, dead on occasion.

Through automatic writing, Mr. Clemens painted the best picture of the attack that he could with the limitations of his memory - it was a man, rather than an animal as police suggested to the widow and the public. Unlike anything Mr. Clemens had encountered before, it left him with uncertainty, and thus the details of the event weren’t wholly clear; Clemens seemed convinced, though, that the stranger had attempted to cannibalize him while he was still alive.

Following that gruesome detail, Mrs. Clemens asked that you stop working for the night, as just the thought of it alone shook her deeply. These new details brought her little comfort, as now she was insistent the information be brought to the police so they could look for this mongrel, as she called him. In your personal experience, trying to work with the police resolved nothing. Although around these parts spiritualism was taken seriously in many circles, there was far too much trepidation from the law for your methods to be trusted in an investigation.

But Mrs. Clemens was willing to pay you well for your time and work, so you suggested she sort through her husband’s belongings, specifically anything that may have been on his person when he died. Perhaps psychometry, being able to hold and feel the energies of these objects, may prove itself more useful to your research. The two of you were set to reconvene later in the week, as you needed time to build your energy back up - mediumship was hard work, after all.

“And like a love-sick lennan-shee She has my heart in thrall”

Of course, chasing the song of a phantom didn’t help restore your energy any. Usually, you could find means of tuning out all the noise, for ghosts were plentiful, leaving strong energies everywhere they went like breadcrumbs for psychics to find. Ignoring the breadcrumbs had become easier through the years, shutting off that part of your mind with ease when you needed a moment of peace. This energy, however, was different, and you simply couldn’t disregard it the way you normally would.

So, like any good and curious medium should, you rose from your bed to sit at your desk, lighting the half-melted black candle and closing your eyes once more. Though you couldn’t explain why, you got the sense that this spirit wanted you to give him chase, as strange as that seemed. You focused, trying to find that metaphorical root, but somehow it was to no avail, there was no evident path for you to follow. Pesky little thing, this spirit.

“Why are you hiding?” You asked in a steady tone, continuing to search for the energy that alluded you. For a brief moment, you thought perhaps he had left because you couldn’t feel any nearby presence outside of the usual. But then you heard his haunting melody again, and somehow you got the sense that it was intended to mock you.

“No life I owe nor liberty For love is lord of all”

There was something undeniably different here that you simply couldn’t place. You hadn’t the confidence to say whether the difference was good, bad, or otherwise, but you were certain this spirit had a side to it unlike your standard fare of ghosts wanting to say goodbye to loved ones or getting lost on their journey beyond. There was a near lack of energy that made him hard to pin down - was he malignant or hostile, was he a trickster or simply misunderstood?

Determinedly, you rolled your shoulders back, seeking the energy again as you remarked, “I’m sure you’re quite amusing at parties.”

To your utter surprise, you felt his chuckle as if it were within your own chest, causing you to shiver; the spirit was closer than you thought, and evidently quite good at hiding. Seeing as your quip seemed to amuse him, you steadied yourself and tried again, hoping that you could get some further interaction, or at the very least a reaction.

“Would you mind telling me your name?”

No response. Nothing for an achingly long stretch, until finally a teasing voice tickled your ears, “Don't think I'll be doing that, love…”

You were taken aback by the spirit’s taunting, words darker and huskier than his singing, reverberating both within you and without you. The remark told you a lot about him, though. He had been dead for a while, for the newly deceased were often too disoriented by their circumstances to make jokes. And if he’d been around a while, then he ran the risk of being dangerous, which normally you would have sensed much sooner; again, there was something very strange about this one that you couldn’t put your finger on.

“That didn’t answer my question.” You urged with more command in your tone, but received nothing in response - no comebacks or laughter or singing to be had.

You waited, considering if this almost-conversation would continue, since his presence couldn’t be detected as other spirits typically would be. Several minutes ticked by in silence, candle flame slowly eating away at the wax, your posture taut in anticipation, the moon idling through the night sky; but you already knew that was the end of that. Whoever he was was gone for now.

With a final sigh of acceptance, you stood, blowing out the candle at your desk and deciding it was time to call it a night - you couldn’t do any more work with your energy as low as it was. The lamp burning upon your nightstand lit the way across the small expanse of your room, guiding you back to the warmth and comfort of your bed.

As you passed by the window, you glanced out at the street growing emptier as the night grew darker. Men still trekked along, either heading home or to the nearest bar; the only businesses still open at this time of night were bars and inns. In the building across from yours, nearly all lights were out, save for a faint flickering here and there between curtains.

Content with the quiet of the night, you began to walk from the window, but something made you stop, some kind of itch at the base of your skull that drew your attention back out. For a long, tense moment, you stared out at your familiar neighborhood, eyes scanning carefully. You weren’t prone to being startled or spooked, so you wouldn’t call the sensation you felt alarm - no, rather it was caution.

But nothing about your street appeared out of place. Perhaps you were just a little tense given the day you had, and the strange interaction with a singing spirit. So, you turned your back to the window and made your way to bed, ignoring that prickling foreboding that crawled up your spine, reminding yourself you had nothing to fear.

After all, you hadn’t seen the glow of something nefarious out there in the dark - no, you surely hadn’t, for it must have purely been the shine of light off a reflective surface…

. .

A.N. | Not quite sure yet when I'll have chapter one out, but I wanted to post this and give everyone a little taste of what's to come. I'm working on another writing project alongside this, so I apologize if it's a bit of a wait for the next update!

Taglist | @avidreader73 @cowboy-courage @decayingfool @vesnaragast

[magickkate]

I got some messages that asked me to explain a bit more about scrying, and I wanted to make a separate post to clarify this method of divination from my main post on commonly used divination methods. So, let's dive in!

Scrying is a form of divination that involves gazing into a reflective surface or medium to receive insights, visions, or messages from the spiritual realm. It's a practice that has been used by various cultures and civilizations throughout history, dating back to ancient times.

1. Cultural and Historical Significance: Scrying has been practiced by cultures around the world for thousands of years. It has roots in ancient civilizations such as Egypt, Greece, Rome, and China, where it was used for divination, spiritual guidance, and accessing hidden knowledge.

2. Psychic Abilities: Some practitioners believe that scrying can help enhance psychic abilities such as clairvoyance (seeing visions), clairaudience (hearing messages), and clairsentience (feeling energies). By quieting the mind and opening oneself to the messages of the spiritual realm, practitioners may strengthen their intuitive faculties.

3. Modern Applications: While scrying has ancient origins, it continues to be practiced today by witches, psychics, and spiritual seekers around the world. Modern practitioners may incorporate scrying into their magical or spiritual practices, using it as a tool for guidance, insight, and personal growth.

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Here are some key aspects of the practice of scrying:

⦿ Tools: Scrying can be performed using a variety of tools, including: -> Crystal balls: Smooth, polished spheres made of crystal or glass. -> Black mirrors: Mirrors with a dark, reflective surface, often made of obsidian or other black stones. -> Bowls of water: Still water in a dark-colored or reflective bowl.- Flame: Gazing into the flame of a candle or fire. ⦿ Preparation: Before scrying, it's important to prepare yourself and your space. This may involve cleansing and consecrating your scrying tool, setting a sacred space for your practice, and quieting your mind through meditation or relaxation techniques. ⦿ Technique: To scry, you fix your gaze on the surface of the scrying tool while allowing your mind to relax and enter a receptive state. You may begin to see images, symbols, or visions appear in the reflective surface. It's important to maintain a soft focus and an open mind, allowing the messages to come through naturally. ⦿ Interpretation: After a scrying session, it's helpful to journal your experiences and interpretations. Pay attention to any symbols, images, or feelings that came up during the session and reflect on their significance. Trust your intuition and the guidance you receive from the spiritual realm. ⦿ Types of Scrying: While the most common form of scrying involves gazing into a reflective surface, there are other variations of the practice as well. This includes water scrying (gazing into bodies of water), fire scrying (gazing into flames), and even scrying using smoke or clouds. ⦿ Uses: Scrying can be used for various purposes, including divination, receiving guidance or insights, connecting with spirit guides or ancestors, and accessing subconscious or hidden knowledge. It can also be used as a tool for personal and spiritual growth, meditation, and self-reflection.

4. Ethical Considerations: Like any form of divination, it's important for practitioners to approach scrying with respect, integrity, and ethical awareness. Practitioners should be mindful of the potential impact of their readings on themselves and others and strive to use their abilities responsibly and ethically.

5. Experimentation and Exploration: Scrying is a deeply personal practice, and there is no one "right" way to do it. Practitioners are encouraged to experiment with different scrying tools, techniques, and environments to find what works best for them. Trusting one's intuition and inner guidance is key to successful scrying.

Overall, scrying is a versatile and powerful practice that allows practitioners to tap into their intuition, connect with the spiritual realm, and gain valuable insights and guidance. It’s a deeply personal and intuitive practice that can be adapted and customized to suit individual preferences and needs.

Regular practice, combined with an open mind and heart, can lead to deeper insights, clearer visions, and a stronger intuitive connection with the spiritual realm. Additionally, seeking guidance from experienced practitioners, studying relevant literature, and participating in supportive communities can offer valuable support and encouragement on the scrying journey.

This is not a tool I regularly use, simply because of my headaches. Either it’s the mundane tapping into your head saying, “Hey, knock it off, you don’t need to do this.” or it’s the magical side saying “Hey, you have better places to put your time and energy. this is not one of them.” So if you are interested in this practice by all means utilize it to the best of your ability, but if you can’t seem to focus or get really bad headaches all the time, this may not be the BEST practice for you. It is an option, though! just be careful, witchlings!

Remember to approach scrying with a sense of curiosity, wonder, and reverence for the mysteries of the universe. Trust in your own intuition and the guidance you receive, and allow the magic of scrying to unfold in its own time. With dedication and perseverance, the practice of scrying can become a profound and transformative tool for spiritual growth and enlightenment.

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Learn more: How to Scry Candle Wax in Water Tarot, Pendulums, Scrying, and More! Ways to Improve Psychic Gifts + Removing Mental Blockages Using A Witch's Mirror: Scrying, Automatic Writing, Spirit Work

[lvmimis]

cw: canon-typical violence. reader is female and not japanese. mention of an arranged marriage.

On a day like today, where no amount of electrolyte-dense water can fix the headache pounding in Shin’s temples, braving the heart of Tokyo’s city center might as well be a Herculean task.

This could be overstimulating for anyone in his predicament of course, but with Shin’s added gift of telepathy, it might as well be hell. The background noise of thoughts meshed from throngs of people are particularly loud today, and he concentrates on silencing them further. This helps briefly - the commotion turns into a slight hum as if he’s turned on noise canceling headphones, and he’s about to turn on his actual earbuds to drown out chatter until he passes by a cafe…

… and picks up abruptly on one of the loudest thoughts he’s ever heard in his entire life.

This is sooooooo fucking annoying, I can’t believe I have to do this.

The complaint is so loud and clear, he almost wonders if someone is yelling directly at him, like a missive from the heavens itself. And the sound keeps going, a flurry of words of annoyance and defeat. He doesn’t understand what the voice is talking about, and turning around quickly, he sees no one looking in his direction, and the people that walk past him paying no mind to him seem engrossed enough in their conversations that they could not possibly have been the source of the whining. 

To his right, there’s a rather upscale French-style cafe with outside seating, and patrons are seated in singles, doubles and triples. When he undulls his senses, there are a million conversations again that come back flooding into his stream of consciousness - a bunch of girls who are both agreeing that the third one in the group is dreadfully annoying, one man worrying about the eventual bill based on his date’s wanton ordering, and a waitress who is counting down the shift by the seconds even though it’s only half past noon.

Shin doesn’t realize he’s standing still, staring directly at another human being, until he makes eye contact with the source of the thought.

You.

Shit, did I say that out loud?

You’re wide-eyed, and looking straight at him, as if you’re reading his thoughts instead of him reading yours. A young woman, who looks about his age or slightly younger, but dressed somewhat formally for the occasion, in what looks like a skirt suit, tailored. Expensive earrings, and the type of hairstyle fits the word ‘elegant’ but not elderly. Non-Japanese, he thinks, then berates himself for making an assumption about your background. A face that doesn’t match the hostility of your thoughts, he thinks, pretty he’d go so far as to say. 

Then he realizes he’s also staring and almost raises his hands to reassure you that he didn’t hear you before remembering that such a move is even more incriminating. Embarrassed, he makes a 180 quickly, raising his hood over his head and shoving his hands in his pockets.

Close one, he thinks to himself, but then your voice comes directly to him again.

Oh man, I must have looked so hostile that I worried him, he hears you think again, but then you go so far as to apologize to him in your head, muttering something about having to try to find the bright side of things. 

Shin has to admit he’s curious. Who are you? Who are you waiting for? There isn’t a chance you’re clairvoyant as well, is there?

Slipping just slightly out of view, he stays close to the wall. He has to admit that he considers that this might be a creepy misuse of his powers, but it’s rare, and when you’re thinking that loudly, he can’t exactly force you out of his mind, can he?

I just have to smile and nod. Just a few minutes of smiling and nodding and maybe I’ll say one or two things that will make it clear that I’m not worth marrying and then I can go back to my life. 

So, it’s a date, Shin concludes. None of his business, although he’s surprised people still consider arranged marriages these days. He wonders briefly if perhaps you are a bit more of a high profile person despite how… unrefined your internal monologue is, then takes another step to continue towards his destination, but your internal voice starts up again.

But if their family is only sending a mediator, why should I be here in the flesh all alone? How can Uncle not realize this is stupid? Unsafe even?

Shin has to agree with this himself. If not just nervous that he was staring directly at you like some kind of psycho, you seemed a bit distressed in general. The same curiosity that keeps him in close proximity, eavesdropping like a nosy neighbor despite the fact that he should probably return to the store soon, keeps him wondering more.

Where do you come from? What’s your name?

I want to go home so bad…

This last thought of yours is laden with less complaint but more sorrow, enough that he actually feels it start to form, a heavy sinking feeling, in the pit of his stomach. 

This is not good.

Shin finally decides that he has to leave before he ends up getting involved in unexpected trouble, and that’s when he senses it.

A second, much more cruel voice.

—

Everything seems to happen in a blur for you. One minute, you’re looking down at your phone, trying to decide if leaving after fifteen minutes of a no-show is permissible even when it has to do with supposed marriage prospects, and brainstorming ways to dissipate your poor uncle and guardian’s anger, the next you’ve been practically tackled out of your seat by a stranger in a hoodie, who hovers on top of view, while onlookers scream. 

“Keep your head down!”

Bullets are louder in real life than in the movies, it seems, you think, dazed. Glass around you shatters, blood splatters, and bodies hit the ground. You’re not sure where the shots are coming from, just that they seem to be hitting everyone and everything in that godforsaken cafe but you, and you’re being carried off, somewhere, you’re not sure.

It’s the same man who gave you a weird look earlier, the one who’d been privy to your natural resting bitch face, who seems to be running at full speed now, you in tow, tucked in his arms. In what direction, you don’t know, just that he’s saved you. 

He’s fast on your feet, and you’re secure against him, but your head spins.

What’s going on? You think; your lips open but your brain is too unfocused to remember how to move them.

“I’ll explain later!”

You can’t see his face as he speaks, but the young man’s voice is loud enough to show concern yet calm enough that somehow, implicitly, you trust him.

You haven’t even said anything yet, but you nod and the sheer rush of adrenaline, combined with jet lag from many hours not yet recovered from your flight, have you drift out of consciousness.

...

You wake up hours later in what seems to be the back of a convenience store. You don't know it yet, but it will be the safest place you'll ever know.

[kiwriteswords]

Cosmic Rollercoaster [Aaron Hotchner x Mystical!Reader]

Masterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 2k|| AN: This is so incredibly self-indulgent, but I thought this could be a fun one to write. I have a few others written/started/planned for Mystical!Reader, so I hope you guys like it!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, mention of clairvoyance, reader is spiritual (crystals, sage, intuition, etc.), established relationship. banter, Hotch and Reader fight like an old married couple, team dynamics, skeptic Hotch

Summary: Your intuition is never wrong, but when you decide to bring it up in front of the local PD on a case, Hotch is not too happy with you.

Aaron Hotchner never thought he'd find himself in a relationship that could only be described as a cosmic rollercoaster.The world he inhabited was black and white, full of procedure and protocol, whereas you lived in a vivid spectrum of colors, thriving on intuition and the energy of the universe.

In the quiet hum of the local police department’s briefing room, Hotch stood at the head of the table, his expression unreadable as he briefed the officers on the latest serial case. 

You, draped in a flowy, ethereal dress that seemed more suited to a forest nymph than an FBI agent, leaned back in your chair, your fingers tapping rhythmically against the table. He’d seen your closet first-hand. A stark contrast to the greys and blues he hung in his own. Textured furs, lace, and embroidered fabrics hung in your closet. 

"Based on the evidence we've gathered," Hotch began, his voice steady and commanding, "the unsub is likely to strike again within the next 48 hours."

You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing slightly as you felt a pull in your gut--a whisper of intuition that often guided your insights. "I think he's going to move faster than that," you interjected softly, yet firmly. "The energy around this case...it's urgent, like a storm coming."

A murmur of curiosity rose from the local officers, their attention shifting between the stoic Unit Chief and the whimsical agent who often solved cases with a blend of hard evidence and gut feelings.

Hotch's jaw clenched momentarily at your words. Dealing with your unorthodox methods publicly was always a delicate dance of frustration and admiration. While deep down he knew this was a part of you--a part of you he loved and admired--there was another part of him that wondered how heavily you relied on this so-called intuition over black-and-white facts. 

"While we appreciate Agent Y/L/N's...unique insights," he said, his tone strained with the effort of diplomacy, "our strategies must be rooted in tangible evidence."

"But isn’t it tangible if it leads to the right conclusions?" you countered, just for him to hear, your voice lilting as if challenging him was a type of playful dance you both performed too often.

The team watched, the corners of their mouths twitching in amusement. Rossi leaned over to Morgan, whispering loud enough for nearby ears, "Ten bucks says they'll be arguing about this all the way back to the hotel."

Morgan laughed, “It’s like Denver all over again,” he reminisced about a previous case where you were feeling more than inclined to share your bewitched musings. 

Hotch’s feelings were a tumultuous mix of professional irritation and deep, unwavering affection. Each time you spoke, your voice pulled at something within him--a desire to loosen the reins of control he so tightly held. Your free-spirited nature both challenged and complemented his by-the-book demeanor. It was an ongoing battle between logic and feeling, one that neither of you could ever truly win.

He wanted to snap, he wanted to tell you there was a time and place for this sort of…nonsense, he wanted to call it, but his mind flashed back to all of the times you made the hairs stick on the back of his neck with your certain mystical charm. 

Hotch's eyes flickered with a mixture of annoyance and adoration as he addressed the room. "Let's continue to focus on the behavioral analysis.” Hotch looked to you, then toward the door, “Agent Y/L/N, a word outside, please."

As you followed him out, the smirks on your teammates' faces were clear. "Mom and Dad are fighting again," Prentiss teased, earning a chuckle from the others.

Outside, with the door firmly closed behind them, Hotch turned to you, his expression firm, every inch the Unit Chief that he was. 

"You can't base case predictions on 'energy,'" he admonished, his voice low to keep the conversation private. He was always conscious of maintaining the professional integrity of the team, and your unorthodox methods, though effective, often pushed the boundaries of his comfort zone.

You stepped closer, your presence unyielding yet somehow soothing--a contradiction that Hotch found both infuriating and comforting. "Aaron, when have my instincts not aided our cases? You know I integrate the evidence thoroughly before I speak. My intuition has always been an asset. I’m not claiming to ignore the facts or think I can see the future in some crystal ball. You think I would have graduated the academy if I didn’t use the logical side of my brain?"

Hotch's gaze softened slightly, though his stance remained as rigid as ever. There was no denying the effectiveness of your methods on paper, but the ongoing challenge was reconciling them with his ingrained need for hard, tangible evidence. 

"It’s not about doubting you--I’m not doubting you…" he said, struggling to convey the dual tides of professional concern and personal admiration he felt. "It's about how it’s perceived. We need the locals to trust our methods, conventional or not."

Your hand reached out, brushing against his--a touch that threatened to dismantle the barriers he worked so hard to maintain in public. 

"I know, Aaron. I do. But trust me too, okay? My 'woo-woo' hasn’t failed us yet."

Hotch looked at your hand on his, the simple contact sending a jolt through him that he wasn’t fully prepared to analyze in the moment. He took a deep breath, the ever-present conflict between his role as a leader and his feelings for you sharper in that instance than many others. “I do trust you,” he finally said, his voice a mixture of concession and caution. “More than you might realize. It’s just...hard. Balancing that trust with the need to lead a team in a way that everyone respects, including those who might not understand your...unique approach.”

Aaron Hotchner couldn't deny the spark of mischief in your eyes, a clear signal that you were about to challenge his all-too-serious world yet again. "Maybe you need a bit of my 'woo-woo' to rub off on you," you suggested playfully, your voice light but edged with a challenge that intrigued and exasperated him in equal measure.

The corner of Hotch's mouth twitched into a small, genuine smile--an admission of your effect on him that he rarely allowed others to see. "Maybe," he conceded, his tone laced with amusement and a touch of irony. "Just don’t expect me to start wearing crystals or chanting at dawn."

Your laughter, bright and unguarded, cut through the crisp air, momentarily lightening the weight of his responsibilities. It was these moments--your laughter, your relentless optimism--that reminded him of the stark contrasts between you. Here he was, a man who lived by the rules, and there you were, turning every rule on its head with a wink and a nudge.

Watching you laugh, Hotch acknowledged internally that your presence, though sometimes a whirlwind of unpredictability, brought a vital balance to his life. It wasn't just about solving cases; it was about understanding the interplay of different perspectives. Yours was a perspective that danced around the edges of intuition and energy, often leading to surprising yet effective conclusions.

As you both walked back inside, your side-by-side steps became a silent testament to your evolving partnership. It was a partnership that stretched beyond the confines of FBI protocols, reaching into the realms of personal growth and mutual respect.

As the evening wore on and the team dispersed to follow up on leads, you pulled out maps and spread them across the table, your fingers tracing the possible routes the unsub might take. "He’s feeling cornered, anxious. It’s like a high-pitched sound only I can hear," you murmured to JJ, who watched you with a mixture of skepticism and intrigue.

Hotch, overhearing this as he approached, folded his arms and leaned against the table, his gaze intent on you. "And you're sure it's not just the coffee talking?" he quipped, a rare tease that drew a small, delighted smile from you.

"It’s never just the coffee, Hotch," you replied, your voice light but your eyes serious. "He’s moving fast. Faster than we thought."

Despite his reservations, Hotch nodded, signaling to the team to prepare for a possible early engagement. "Alright, let’s tighten the timeline. Everyone, let’s move," he commanded, the team jumping into action with practiced urgency.

Hours later, as darkness bled into the early shades of dawn, your intuition was vindicated spectacularly. The unsub was apprehended at a location you had insisted be surveilled, far ahead of the projected timeline. Hotch watched the operation unfold, a mixture of disbelief and reluctant admiration simmering within him. As the team regrouped, tired but exhilarated by the swift capture, Hotch found his gaze seeking yours across the room, his eyes heavy with a silent acknowledgment of your contribution.

"You were right," Hotch admitted as he approached you, his voice low, intimate even amidst the lingering chaos of their successful operation. "About the unsub’s timing."

You shrugged, your expression a blend of satisfaction and mischief. "I usually am. But don’t worry, I won’t let it go to my head."

A rare grin flickered across Hotch's face, softening the hard lines that duty and responsibility had etched there. "Maybe just this once, you can gloat. You earned it," he conceded, his voice carrying an undertone of warmth that belied his usual reserve.

Laughing softly, you nudged him with your shoulder, your proximity a reminder of the chemistry that often sparked between you, igniting a blend of professional respect and personal tension. "So, does this mean you’ll start carrying a crystal in your pocket?"

Hotch chuckled--a sound so rare and disarming that it amplified the flush of victory on your face. "Let’s not push it," he teased back, the crinkles by his eyes betraying his amusement. Yet, there was an edge to his voice, a hint of challenge that suggested the battle of wits between you was far from over.

As you stood there, the adrenaline of the capture mingling with the electric charge between you, Hotch couldn't help but think how infuriatingly unpredictable you were--and how much he secretly relished it. 

The way you challenged him, pushed him, it didn't just spark frustration; it stirred something deeper, more primal. In another place, another time, he might have acted on the impulse to pull you close and explore the tension that danced like sparks between you.

Instead, he offered you a final, pointed look--a silent truce mixed with a promise of more battles to come. "Maybe one day I'll surprise you, and you’ll find sage in my desk drawer," he suggested, his tone playful yet laden with an undercurrent of something more, something neither of you was quite ready to define yet.

As you both turned to join the others, the shared smile between you was more than just triumph over a case well closed--it was a recognition of the complex, dynamic connection that continued to evolve, challenging both your limits and your desires.

On the jet back to the BAU, the atmosphere was a mix of exhaustion and relief, the gentle hum of the engines a backdrop to the team’s low conversations. You were sprawled across a couple of seats, your colorful scarf serving as a makeshift blanket, while Hotch was seated across the aisle, paperwork spread meticulously before him.

Morgan, sitting nearby, nudged Rossi with a grin. "Watch this," he whispered, loud enough for you and Hotch to hear. "Hey Hotch, Y/N was spot on today, huh? We should have her do all the profiling with her energy readings."

Hotch looked up from his files, his eyes narrowing playfully at Morgan before shifting to you. "Let’s not give her any more ideas," he teased, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

You sat up, folding your legs beneath you. "Oh, come on, Aaron, admit it. You love that I keep things interesting. You’d be bored without me," you retorted, your tone light but pointed, the familiar dance of your banter drawing smiles from around the cabin.

Hotch’s eyes softened, and he set his paperwork aside, giving you his full attention—a rarity that didn’t go unnoticed by the team. "That, I can’t deny," he conceded. "Though 'interesting' is a mild way of putting it."

Prentiss, joining in from a seat behind you, chimed in with a laugh. "You mean terrifying and effective? Because that was some wild guesswork today, Y/N. Even if it was right."

"It’s not guesswork," you protested, feigning indignation. "It’s a highly refined skill set."

Rossi raised his eyebrows, joining the conversation. "Refined, huh? So, what does the energy tell you about Hotch here?" he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You glanced at Hotch, who was watching you with an expression of amused curiosity. "Oh, his energy? Perpetually exasperated...but there’s a lot of love there too. Mostly for me, of course," you said, winking at Hotch.

Hotch shook his head, a genuine smile breaking through his usual reserve. "You’re impossible," he murmured, though the affection in his voice was clear.

The team erupted in light laughter, the ease between you and Hotch evident to all. Morgan leaned back, his smile wide. "Seriously, you guys are like an old married couple. All you need is to start finishing each other’s sentences."

"And sentences should be finished with proper grammar and punctuation," Hotch added, playing into Morgan’s joke, his gaze still locked with yours in a silent conversation that spoke volumes about the depth of your relationship.

As the laughter died down, you moved to sit closer to Hotch, your presence by his side natural and fitting. "How about we finish this case report together?" you suggested, your voice softer now, away from the team’s ears.

Hotch nodded, his hand briefly touching yours under the cover of the table. "Together sounds perfect," he agreed, his voice low.

The rest of the flight passed with the team gently ribbing each other, the camaraderie a testament to the long hours and shared dangers. But amidst it all, you and Hotch shared quiet moments of connection.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry

[nayatarot777]

What Type Of Partner Would Be Compatible With You?

I’m doing this reading in hopes of bringing clarity to a lot of you regarding the type of people who’d truly be good for you in comparison to the people who you may want - because those two types of people may not coincide with each other. Hopefully this reading can either confirm that you know which personality traits/characteristics would complement yours or that it at least brings you clarity to the topic at hand.

• Pile One •

Your compatible partner would be someone who is quite different to you. This is someone who people would never pair you with, but your differences clearly complement each other. I’m seeing that if you are someone who is lacking in emotional expression or if you are just emotionally suppressed, then your partner will be someone who is very emotionally expressive. Very emotionally giving too, but I don’t think that this will make you feel smothered because I have a feeling that this type of partner would be able to read your energy and see that the love that they give is love that you need shown to you - even if you act like you don’t need it. And if you are someone who is very emotionally expressive, I feel like your partner will be the opposite. They’ll be quite emotionally held back in terms of showing how they feel and expressing how they feel, but you guys who relate to that have the ability to read your partner and the ability to tell what they’re feeling. So therefore, I feel like your partner’s lack of emotional expression won’t bother you as you can feel their love anyway. They are probably the type of person to express their love in practical ways instead of emotional ways, but that won’t bother you since you see the deep love in their acts of service.

I am also seeing that your compatible partner will be someone who’s very in touch with their sexuality. Very sexually appealing,m as well as very beautiful too. I feel like this is a compatible trait with you because I have a feeling that you guys may be sexually suppressed a little bit or you may not see the beauty in yourself. So, the universe in this case would be showing you how beautiful you are through the ability to attract a beautiful partner because I’m seeing that you guys would be a very good looking couple - although a strange match in other peoples eyes. However, I feel like one commonality between you that people would see is how physically attractive the both of you are. I am also seeing this partner highlighting to you the beauty of every phase of life, the good as well as the bad - perceivably. I feel like this partner has a lot of Taurus energy because they seem to be able to see the beauty in dark moments quite easily whereas you might struggle with that. You guys could be quite modest people or dress quite modestly, and if so, your partner is going to be the complete opposite. If you’re the person who is very sexually expressive - whether that’s through the way that you dress or through what you talk about - then your partner will be the one who comes across as more modest.

There is a theme here of someone having a distorted view and I’m seeing that for a lot of you this definitely could be you in regards to your physical appearance and your own beauty. It could also be towards certain circumstances in life and your partner would be someone who is able to see the truth of you or life’s circumstances in order to teach you how to view them in a much clearer way. I’m hearing that this partner would help you to advance your clairvoyant abilities in order to see through the smoke and mirrors and the cloudiness of your perception that you may have in regards to yourself or life in general. This person likes to be quite hidden, but from the shadows is where they observe. So there is Taurus energy as well as Scorpio energy. This person can see through the surface level of people and situations which you may struggle to do at times. That might be what the distorted view is about regarding you. But your partner will help you to see the things that you should see clearly as a way of showing you the realities of people who you may need to stay away from. Because I am seeing that both of you would be very close. They’re very protective over you in a very loving way. I’m hearing that some of you would be attached-to-the-hip with your partner, but it won’t feel smothering because the protective nature isn’t coming from a negative, low-vibrational place. It’s not coming from insecurity or jealousy. It’s just coming from a need to protect you out of love and with the purpose and duty of leading you onto the path of your highest good. So therefore, they will kind of be the person who watches out for any dangerous people or situations on your behalf while also teaching you to do that for yourself.

Significant Numbers: 4, 17, 2, 27, 27 - 2727 is an angel number that you can research for an extra message - 28

Extended reading: What Would Life Be Like With A Compatible Partner?

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• Pile Two •

Your compatible partner is someone who really helps you to get your life in order. Someone who helps you with clearing out the mess and the dirt and the grime - figuratively speaking. This could also be in a literal sense, so for those of you who are quite messy people, I’m seeing that your compatible partner is someone who’s very tidy and orderly. This is someone who is very empowered within themselves and their empowerment leads them to ensure that their life is in order because this empowerment allows them to know that they are the ones in control of their lives. Now, you guys might be people who find yourselves stuck in a victim mindset. You might be someone who is plagued by negative thoughts about yourself or about life in general, but this compatible partner will lead by example and initiate a lot of powerful personal growth within you. This is with the purpose of helping you out of this victim mindset in order for you to realise - just like they have - that you are not a victim to life itself. And that you actually have the ability to be in control of your life if you recognise that and find a way to be. This is someone who would empower you to honour yourself and to honour your self-development by cleaning up behaviours or mindsets or habits that are holding you back.

For some reason, I’m feeling like a lot of people in this pile have dated people (or have simply been attracted to people) who would have done the opposite. Who would have kept you stuck in your own victim mindset and negative patterns of behaviour because of the fact that they were themselves. But your compatible person is someone who is the complete opposite. This person is going to help you to reject the narrative that you’re a victim and that you have no personal power. They are going to cause you to realise that you are actually a very powerful person when you work through the fear and the anxiety and perhaps even your traumas in order to get to the point in which you can listen to your intuition. This compatible partner definitely could be older than you. I feel like there is quite a significant age difference between the both of you so you guys might have more luck with dating people who are older than you. With those who may have more life experience. Those who have learned to overcome the phase that you’re in right now.

Please take that with a grain of salt if you’re underage or just young: do not actively try to date people who are much older than you because most of the time in those cases, there is the element of manipulation towards the naivety of the young person. But if this isn’t someone who is older than you, this is just someone who is more older internally than they are physically. They have a very, very mature mindset. They may think like someone who is years older than them. They have a lot of wisdom that I feel is passed down from the elders in their lives. I’m also seeing that this is someone who is able to handle rejection quite well, and you might be the opposite. You might internalise rejection - whether that’s rejection from people, rejection from workplaces, or rejection from opportunities. It could be rejection from anything, but you guys might not handle rejection very well. And you may internalise it and use that rejection as ‘proof’ that you are not deserving or worthy of whatever it is that you want. But this person is going to change that narrative. Like I said before, they are someone who will reject that narrative that you’re a victim to life because it’s not true. You may be a victim of certain people as most of us are, but that doesn’t mean that the universe and life itself is victimising you. And that’s something that that this compatible partner would want to teach you.

Significant Numbers: 43, 22, 41, 15, 13, 12

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• Pile Three •

Your compatible partner is someone who has been through a lot. They had to drag themselves up out of the mud after being beaten down so much throughout life. To the point that they are someone who would’ve entered a Phoenix rising moment. They would’ve realised their own power and realised that they have the alchemic ability to transmute pain, trauma, and negativity into something that’s gives them comfort and stability and healing. This person would be a master at transforming and the transmutation of negative energy into something beneficial for themselves. I feel like this person could definitely be heavily into occult knowledge or just be heavily connected to the unseen energies and forces in life. They have a very keen understanding of the spirit realm. Of energy and physics. And they know how to manipulate energy in order to get what they want out of their own negative experiences and pain. They’re also someone who is highly connected to the universe and their spirit guides. They pay attention to the messages and the signs that the spirits that they’re connected to like to show to them. This person might do all of these things unconsciously. They might not be the type of person to speak in these terms but ultimately, they are an alchemist. And they know how to transmute energy extremely well. They are spiritually connected to a very high level, even if they wouldn’t put it that way.

This person is someone with very strong boundaries. It’s almost like they cast a circle of boundaries around themself for the sake of self-protection from energies and people and situations that they don’t need to be around. And they have a very keen intuition alongside the understanding of messages from the universe, which helps to keep them safe and protected. This is someone who is well acquainted with the dark and negative energies of life, but they’ve used those types of energies to their advantage. There’s also something about this person‘s eyes. I feel like this type of person is perceived as someone who can see through people and situations, it’s almost like when they’re looking at physical + 3D things and people, they are seeing the undercurrent of energy within those things/people. This person is a bit of a contradiction because I feel like most people who meet them sense all of this hardship and pain and trauma that they’ve had to go through, so their energy is quite heavy - maybe dark to a lot of people - but out of their negative experiences, out of all of the moments of death (literally and figurative), they’ve become some type of earth angel who has the alchemic knowledge to heal themselves as well as others - including you.

If you were in a relationship with them, this person would not be someone who is comfortable with being a victim to life circumstances. Even when they are made a victim. They will convert themselves into a survivor and figure out how to use that victim-hood as a tool to make them the winner in the end. This person does not fucking play about their boundaries 😂. They really don’t. I feel like they are very, very adamant at keeping their boundaries intact because their boundaries are a representation of the power that they have over the energies that they allow into their life. And they’re so used to feeling like they don’t have power from earlier experiences that they don’t play about showing their power and acting on their power for the sake of their own self-protection. This may be your compatible partner because I have a feeling that you guys are exactly like this yourselves. You need someone like this who can protect themselves because you protect your own energy. And when your boundaries are strong, you don’t need someone else who has weak boundaries who will bring destructive energy into both of your lives. When you’re someone who is able to listen to the universe and rise above hardships in life, you don’t need someone next to you who would rather stay in a victim mindset and just let negative energies have their way with them. I feel like this person is your equal. Although you are both rare types of people, they are your equal.

Significant Numbers: 25, 32, 40, 4, 37, 16

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