angstoic.com Astrologer, Ang Stoic
This is Persephone territory—the descent, the abduction, the re-emergence. Just this time, you get to choose whether you rise or stay underground…
Greetings Fellow travellers,
Another lunation? Maybe. But this one cuts a little deeper, my stargazing friends—especially if you’ve been bottling up that rage, biting your tongue, or pretending your loyalty isn’t stretched to breaking point. So allow me, if I may, to observe this climactic event with you because, let’s face it, Full Moons aren’t just pretty baubles shimmering brightly in the nighsky—they literally augur spring-tide moments in our cosmology, biology and emotional constitution, compelling us to face whatever’s lurking beneath that cool, otherwise calm surface of our exterior world.
With the Sun and Moon locked in opposition, they each amplify each other’s gravitational pull upon us here, on Earth, just as they do with ocean tides. This messes with our equilibrium. And during the traditionally accursed Scorpio Full Moon, this usual tidal surge is supercharged by the sign’s instinct to dredge all manner of buried truths into the light with the most irrepressible force. And with Juno joining the Hades Moon, we can expect our most intimate relationships to feel like they’re teetering on the verge of thermonuclear explosion—indeed, some of you might even welcome that infernal meltdown just to shake off what seems like years of claustrophobic tension.
At its core, this lunation unravels exactly where we’ve been cowering in denial, refusing to acknowledge the seething resentments or festering power games that drive our partnerships. Of course, Scorpio doesn’t do “subtle” once it’s been triggered. The emotionally volatile Moon—already in her fall in the most extreme of emotional signs—doesn’t need much provocation to lose her shit. Throw in the presence of Juno—the ancient goddess who shows zero tolerance for betrayal and half-hearted devotion—and you’ve got a complete gun-to-the-head ultimatum that demands total honesty or ultimate doom. It’s a ruthless, unforgiving vibe, fraught with unchecked reactivity, but it’s clear: we either purge the toxic sludge or watch even the most prized relationship rot on the vine. It’s almost certain that everyone is feeling the torment of someone under their skin right now. There’s always some projection on a Full Moon. In fact, much of the decay is already well past the stage where its rancid stench can be tolerated, even from three rooms down the hall. If you think you can skate by with a half-arsed apology or placate your partner with stalling tactics, befuddling double-talk, or a box of superficial niceties, think again. Scorpio will sniff out that bull’s shit and tear shreds straight through whatever façade.
Over on the Taurus side, where issues of taste, comfort, security, finances, and a bullheaded refusal to shift outdated values reign supreme, the Sun prepares for its final meeting with Uranus in this fixed-earth sign. For the past seven years, we’ve become not more flexible, but more determinedly unbudging. Hardened. Cynical. More inventive about how to defend what we consider ours and more autonomously independent, both bodily and economically. And to hell with anyone trying to shake us from that. If the Bull is traditionally conservative, it’s now radically entrenched. Slow to react—but once it does, it becomes impossible to defy. Under Uranus, Taurus has learned to rebel not by moving, but by staying. This obstinacy has infuriated all the fixed signs—Scorpio most of all—whose insistent pressure for change has only increasingly been met with cold-eyed intransigent refusal.
This last lunation standoff is the final straw. Patience is gone.
The docile cow has become a staunchly immobile monolith, obliviously munching grass while Scorpio’s resentments stew and wallow in the dark pits of Hades. And Scorpio has tried everything—emotional blackmail, psychotic rages, prolonged bouts of silent brooding, hysterical accusations, weaponised sex, sleazy smear campaigns, sabotage, mysteriously cryptic false exits, even martyrdom—all to force the Bull to feel something.
To transform.
But Taurus doesn’t flinch.
Won’t even blink any more.
Just knows they own you any time you get worked up over them.
And now, right as this culmination hits, across from Juno—the indomitable goddess of sacred bonds, marriage, and contractual vengeance—the pressure building within partnerships becomes volcanic. Loyalty, betrayal, suppressed power struggles—everything is set to blow. Juno is not one to negotiate; she demands blood oaths. This is do-or-die territory. On one side: Taurus, done playing emotional games, refuses to be convinced that anything is worth giving up an inch of turf for an ounce of control. On the other hand, Scorpio, desperate to break through the numbness, threatens to lash out with every trick in their arsenal. What you’re seeing here is the most palpably toxic version of the old archetypal standoff—where irresistible force meets immovable object—a conflict of inflexible wills that has turned peace and love into a war of attrition.
Further intensifying the background is a Yod (“Finger of Fate”) involving the Scorpio Moon, Jupiter in Gemini, and the volatile Chiron/Eris conjunct in Aries. Quincunxes require us to make awkward adjustments, often forcing uncomfortable terms between forces that don’t naturally sit well with us. Jupiter in Gemini wants flighty, open-ended mental play and the freedom to keep options fluid and non-committal, which the Moon in Scorpio, especially conjoined with Juno, ain’t gonna cop for. Meanwhile, Chiron/Eris in Aries is literally a raw nerve exposed: the wound of not belonging, not being seen, of being made to feel useless and unwanted, erupting into defiant assertions of identity upon the all-controlling Scorpionic temperament. This alignment forces a three-way confrontation between evasive, big-talkin’ intellectualism, emotional extremism, and a primal scream for recognition from the ‘underclass’ grappling with extinction.
You can see how this adds pressure and complexity to an already fraught situation.
And to make matters even worse, the lunation axis is T-squared by Pallas Athena, who, from the fixed-air sign of Aquarius, is trying to adjudicate this standoff using cool-headed strategy. Sure, applying some radical objectivity can help if you’re prepared to integrate intense feelings into a collaborative framework—but if one partner or party keeps stonewalling, while the other’s bitter resentments are seething under the surface, no amount of UN-level negotiators wouldn’t crack this curse.
Add Mercury in Taurus squaring Pluto in Aquarius to this fixed-mess mix, and any communications can turn a power struggle into a very stale, stalemate. This is perhaps the tightest aspect under this Full Moon, and woe to those who might feel tempted to hammer their viewpoint home with stubborn ferocity, or twist logic to win the argument (you know, the dumb move of using bully-boy tactics or gangster-like coercive language). The whole deal here is going to take some out-of-the-box thinking. Ask yourself why you’re so unwilling to shift perspective. That’s the real Pluto test: letting go of deeply ingrained mental patterns that keep your mind small or rigid.
In any case, you can’t just think your way out of this. The pressure will expose fractures in how you show up in relationships and where you’ve buried your rage, shame, or unmet needs. Aside from changing your mind, you might also need to prepare to lose something—at least some solid ground—and be prepared for some heartbreak too. I mean, breakthroughs are possible—but only through unflinching honesty and a willingness to dismantle the false self. It’s hard to let go of several ego-attachments, whether it’s our unflinching grip on what brings us physical security or the lust to maintain psychological control over others, or whatever it is you’re stuck on. Whatever it is, this is an extremely brutal moment for all those affected. There will be tears [latest Cosmic Bus episode].
Let’s be honest here. Some of this is on you. You saw the damned signs. You tolerated the control. You let the rot seep in. You sucked up the grief, ignored your gut instinct, sat stewing, stayed suffering way past its due date. So this lunation is your chance to stop kidding yourself and face what your soul’s been screaming for: the utter self-abnegating truth, or eternal oblivion.
If something’s got to die for you to live, then so be it. That’s Scorpio, right back at you…
We all have Scorpio-Taurus playing out somewhere in our chart, so for those of you ready to stop skimming the surface, who want precision guidance into how this lunation rocks your relationships—where the pressure’s building, where the fault lines lie, and how to work the raw material of this emotional implosion into something solid—here’s your no-fluff, expertly crafted Scorpio Full Moon horoscopes. Just the medicine for stepping into the cauldron and coming out wholly transformed. Enjoy xx.
ARIES: Scorpio Full Moon Reading
TAURUS: Scorpio Full Moon Reading
GEMINI: Scorpio Full Moon Reading
CANCER: Scorpio Full Moon Reading
LEO: Scorpio Full Moon Reading
VIRGO: Scorpio Full Moon Reading
LIBRA: Scorpio Full Moon Reading
SCORPIO: Scorpio Full Moon Reading
SAGITTARIUS: Scorpio Full Moon Reading
CAPRICORN: Scorpio Full Moon Reading
AQUARIUS: Scorpio Full Moon Reading
PISCES: Scorpio Full Moon Reading
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