#( XVIII - THE MOON;; out of character. )

[twowhowait]

<tag dump>

[mostlygayrage]

OBSCURA: Trailer Analysis

SPOILERS AHEAD!!

In the trailer/video that goes with Chapter One of OBSCURA (Here. Watch it on your own, sub to Rotten Raccons) is PACKED with details and all sorts of information. Let's start with the first thing we see when the video starts.

Cirrus:

This is a snippet of Cirrus' CG in game with some things added. The text in the top left is what we're interested in. "18. presbyter//ecclesia lunaris" What does the number mean? Well if we take it in terms of Major Arcana for Tarot cards. the moon in number 18.(XVIII) Fitting for the lunar priest, but the deeper meaning also fits. Usually meaning hidden danger or enemies, deception to darker forces at play. Then we have the Latin. If we take the dashes and an indication of a break, then the translation is roughly "Preist// height of the moon" But if we take it as one sentence it translates to "Priest of the Lunar Church" Keir:

Again, staring with the number. 20 (XX) is Judgement. I find this fascinating. With obvious associations to justice, scales, balance etc it;s an interesting connection that I wouldn't have originally thought of to Keir but it fits well. The card itself means reflection, reckoning and awakening. Usually taking a look at oneself to see where an imbalance lies so you can fix it and move forwards while reversed can mean a lack of self-awareness, doubt and self-loathing. (yikes) The latin here is interesting too. Instead of having the dashes like everyone else, he had the latin next to the number and then a separate, less visible one at the bottom center of the screen. "Cavilator Fur" translates to "Scornful thief" and the dimmer, less noticeable word is "Cultelluss" or "knife" and it's pointing to where his dagger in on his belt.

Oleander:

The Number 11 (XI) is Justice. Meaning cause and effect, clarity and truth and the reverse meaning opposite. Oleander is a character who knows the effects of his actions. They are measures and precise. He is aware of the cause and effect. And in his neutral and good endings we see him bring his own form of 'justice' or balance. When Lord Valentine tried to have him killed, he simply returned the favor personally, and succeded. "Nerii//periculosum scurra" when translated as a sentence means "A dangerous clown". This obviously references the way Vesper calls him a clown when they first meet and telling us directly that he is dangerous. Francesco:

The Wheel of Fortune is what is assigned to Francesco, meaning change, cycles and inevitable fate, greater forces as play that are pushing towards and ultimate and unavoidable end. This theme goes along with theming that he is running out of time. THere is a reason for him coming to the underground, for rushing Vesper and the tailor so he can experience as much as he can. There is something pushing him forwards.

"Francisium//innocentes nobiles" At a first glance it looks like a latin version of his name, and "innocent nobiles." The second part is correct but the whole phrase means "The innocent nobles of France" which is FACINATING to say the least. The connection to France is interesting to me and brings my mind to the French revolution. Another detail I think is interesting is that his secondary outfit we see him in, the jewelry that is around his neck is right where a beheading would happen and once I saw it I couldn't unsee it.

Thats the first portion. Later in the video we get some images that flash across the screen with more latin and numbers. The numbers correspond with the numbers we were given previously. Again, in the order of how they appear in the video: Cirrus: Snake Skeleton

Latin first. "Obsequium// ducit as caelum" means "compliance leads to heaven" This connects to his entire theme. To get the best end with Cirrus, you don't question him. You don't question his motives or hesitate, you just comply. The imagery of a snake skeleton is interesting too. The obvious imagery and symbolism with snakes, deceit, lies, danger. But also connections to the story of Adam and Eve. The snake that tempts Eve, causing her fall from grace.

Keir: Scales

The Latin here is obscured a bit but it says "Fatum// vestrum vel extaneus" meaning "Your fate is at stake". This one leaves me wondering quite a bit. It says 'your' as if it's talking to the player, to us. To Vesper. This could tie into how Vesper is roped into Mouse Hole, how they are forced to get a noose around their neck like the rest of those living in Mouse Hole. They have to perform well in the heist that happens otherwise they risk death that comes a lot sooner than would be caused by fractum anima. They also risk the lives of Keir and those in Mouse Hole.

The imagery here is super interesting too. Scales are usually associated with justice which happens to be Oleander's tarot card. Scales, are obviously associated with balance, with equilibrium, and fair deals. While we mostly see one side of the scale it seems to be balanced. And in combination with the Latin, I think it's referring to the delicate balance that is Keir's life. A balance of his line of work being risky but lucrative, but if it's too much of a risk, he not only risks his life but all the others in Mouse Hole.

Oleander: Human Skull

"Pantiantur// sicut habes" roughly translates to "Let them suffer as you have" which, WOW. OKAY. Again, Oleander delivers his own form of justice to Lord Valentine by delivering the same thing Valentine tried to do to Oleander, but more personal. Let them suffer as you have. It brings to mind the "eye for an eye" metaphor. An eye for an eye and the world goes blind. But Justice is blind is she not? The skull imagery is interesting as well. This is all painting Oleander as a very dangerous man. Charming and witty, with a flair for the dramatic, yes, but dangerous all the same. A man who can kill. In the neutral ending he says, "For now you are safe with me. If you want to stay like that, you need to follow my lead." If he doesn't have the same attachment to you as he does in the good ending, you are an asset to him and he doesn't spare you the same kindness.

Francesco: Hour Glass

"Tempus//decurrit" means "time is running out". His is the shortest and simplest of the secondary ones. He is running out of time. He rushes you at the tailor to get an outfit made because he can't afford to wait. He wants to get as much as he can, done in the time he has left. No time to waste. The hourglass is the same message. Time is running out. It makes me wonder what is causing his time to run out. Here's the thing, Vesper's time is also running out with Fractum Anima, and interesting connection and it would be interesting if he also had it or something similar but I don't think that's the case with the other things we have seen. With the other things, the "innocent nobles of France" bit and the Wheel of Fortune, It feels like it's alluding to an execution to something similar. But that's purely speculation. That's it! That's what I have! (Thanks to Atlas on discord for great resources and helping me connect the dots with the numbers and tarot!!)

[rollingsins]

all hers, part i

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: “I’d kill everybody in this town before they’d take you away from me.” Tara says, eyes wild. “I’d kill everybody in the world. You belong to me.” ghostface!tara

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, possessive behavior, vaginal sex, murder of an OC character), smut. 

word count: 4.2k

a/n: for anon, who requested some smutty, possessive ghostface!tara. very, very fun to write, let me know if you want me to write some more ;) 

Four murders in seven days. 

It was a nightmare. You’d heard the stories, sure. Seen the movies. But you’d never thought it would actually happen to you. 

That’s what you got for transferring to Woodsboro of all places. 

Your phone buzzes as you finish locking the remaining doors. It’s Tara. You smile instinctively as her name flashes across your screen. 

where are you? still coming over? 

You look outside. It’s dark already, and the thought of leaving the house when there’s a lunatic running around scares the shit out of you. 

not tonight sorry, baby. lost track of time. don’t want to leave Chase here by himself.

You contemplate asking her over. Her sister is in town, and you’d been trying to give them some space to reconnect. Sam was with her, you assured yourself. Besides, the last thing you wanted was her leaving the safety of her home and getting attacked. 

“YN! Popcorn ready?” 

You drop your phone to the counter, check on the popcorn in the microwave. 

Chase had been your first friend at Woodsboro High, before you’d met anyone else, even Tara. Since you’d started dating her, you hadn’t seen him much. He’d asked you over tonight - your parents were out and he didn’t want you on your own. He’d had a hankering, in somewhat bad taste, to marathon the Stab movies. 

It was nice being with Chase again, even under such terrifying circumstances. 

You tell him so. 

“You know why that is, right?” He laughs, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Your girlfriend hates me.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“She does not.” 

“Does too. Every time I see her she gives me these eyes.” 

He squints, twists his face into an angry glare. 

“Like she wants to kill me.” 

“You’re imagining it.” You tell him. 

Throw a kernel of popcorn at him. 

“Uh huh.” He says, turning his gaze back to the movie, “Sure.”

Talking about Tara had always been weird with him. He’d had a thing for you, back in the day, when you’d first met. He’d even asked you out once. But you already had your sights set on Tara and nothing could deter you. He’d taken it well-ish. So you’d thought. 

“How are things going with her, anyway?” His voice casual. You look over. 

“Good.” You say. “Great. Why do you ask?”

He doesn’t look away from the TV. Shrugs, but it’s tense. Like he’s trying to appear more non-committal. You suddenly feel uncomfortable. 

“Just wondering.” 

The movie plays a little, you let awkward silence wash over the room. Peer down at your phone. No response from Tara. Maybe you should have gone to her house after all. 

“I-” He says suddenly, then stops. Purses his lips. 

“What?” 

“It’s nothing.” He says. “Nevermind.” 

You stare. 

“What, Chase?”

“I just get a weird vibe from her sometimes. That’s all.” 

You blink, caught off guard. 

“You don’t know her.” You say, instantly defensive. “There’s no vibe. She’s perfect. She’s the perfect girlfriend.” 

And she was. She picked you up everyday at 8am on the dot to drive you to school. She walked you to class, held your books for you. Showered you with affection. 

“She’s possessive.” Chase says. He’s looking at you now. Words spilling out of him like they’ve been pent up for a while. “You just don’t see it because you’re all moon-eyed for her. It’s not normal. It’s like you're her special toy and nobody else can play with you.” 

“Stop.” You say. 

“She’s isolated you from all your friends.” He continues. “You used to play soccer, remember? What happened to that? What about dance? All the things you used to love. You don’t do them anymore. Your whole world revolves around her.” 

You stand up. A lump rises in the back of your throat. You’d come here to watch movies with an old friend, not have him berate you about your relationship. 

“That isn’t true.” You say, “With school, I just don’t have time for those things anymore-”

“Because when you’re not in school, you’re with her.” He presses. “And she wants you with her all the time. Like I said, possessive.” 

“Great to know how you really feel.” You say. Grab your phone. 

“Sorry, YN. The truth hurts.” He slumps back into his seat, stares at the TV again. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom.” You mumble. 

You open your phone when you reach the bathroom, go straight to Tara’s contact. 

She’s opened your message, but hasn’t replied. 

“Great.” You say aloud. Your perfect girlfriend has left you on read. 

You contemplate calling her, asking her to come get you. No. You chew on your bottom lip. You could just leave, chance an encounter with ghost-face. You decide against it. You’re annoyed with Chase, but not that annoyed. 

You wash your hands. Head back downstairs. Flick Tara another message. 

You’re not mad, are you? Love you. Wish I was with you instead. xx

Chase hasn’t moved. He looks up when you enter, looking a little sheepish. 

“YN-”

“Don’t worry about it.” You say. Sink into the sofa, as far from him as possible. “Let’s just watch the movie.” 

And you do. Forty minutes of cheesy dialogue and bad acting and not a word from Chase. You like it that way. You keep glancing at your phone, waiting for your girlfriend’s response. But nothing. 

The movie’s over. You can hear the credits rolling, but your eyes are drooping. Half gone. Your phone long abandoned, Tara’s reply nowhere to be found. You’re dreaming of Hawaii in the summer. Pina colada in hand. Tara dressed in a bikini, waist deep in the water. Kissing her in the sand, not a care in the world. 

Then you hear the crash. 

Your eyes jerk open. You sit up. Startled. You look around the room. The TV has shut itself off. Chase is nowhere to be found. There are noises coming from the foyer. Your heart beats, fast. You look wildly around the room. You want something to defend yourself with. 

You settle on a small wooden zebra. Some useless ornament only Chase’s mom would decorate with. It’ll do. 

You hear scuffling. More crashing. Then, Chase’s voice, shrill - scared. 

“Please! Stop!”

Your ears ring. Terror rips through you as you make your way into the hallway, quietly as you can. 

Chase is on the floor, writhing, both his hands wrapped around a curved, silver dagger. 

Your stomach drops. 

It’s Ghostface. 

Your bottom lip trembles. You want to run. Scream. Hide. All at once. But you can’t. You’re rooted to the spot, transfixed. 

Ghostface raises his arm, steady. Then slams his dagger straight down and through Chase’s chest. Chase cries out. Blood gurgles from his lips. Ghostface stabs him, twice, then three times. Crazed. Possessed. 

Your body gives way. You let out a scream. Topple backwards into the hallway cabinet. 

Glass smashes around you. Ghostface looks straight at you. 

Your back hurts from the fall. You writhe desperately on the floor, trying to get up. The Zebra has slipped from your fingers. Tears tumble down your face. 

In your peripheral, you see Ghostface abandon Chase. Head straight for you.

You cry out as he makes a grab at you. 

“Stop.” His voice is contorted, unnatural. He’s using a voice-changer. That same awful voice from that dumb movie you’d just watched. You sob as his hands tighten around you. 

“I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t struggle.” 

You flop out of his grip, kick up just in time to take the Zebra in your hands. 

“I’m not here for you, stop-” 

Your fingers tighten around the Zebra. You use all your force to smack it hard against Ghostface’s head. You hear him cry out. Fall back. 

You’ve hit him hard. He clutches at his head as he falls back. 

There’s a clang as his mask hits the ground. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your chest seizes painfully. The Zebra in your hand slips out of your grasp and hits the floor. 

“Tara?” 

She looks up at you, her eyes wide, like a deer in headlights. Tears prick at the sides of your eyes. You blink. 

She swallows. Stands upright.  

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” She says. The voice changer is gone. The sound of her voice makes you want to weep, “Don’t be scared.” 

She edges towards you, slowly. As if you’re a baby rabbit that might startle at any moment. You see the gleam of her dagger in her hand. Still wet with blood. 

“Tara.” You say again, voice trembling. You take a step back. Panic floods through you. How can this be happening?

“It’s me.” She assures. “You don’t have to be afraid. Look.” She holds out her hand, drops the dagger to the floor. It careens over the carpet. Stains it with blood. 

She inches closer. You don’t realize just how close she is before she’s reaching out, tugging you into her open arms. Your body locks up. The shock, the panic, the lump at the back of your throat. Everything spills over. You blubber into her chest as she holds you tight. 

“Shhh. It’s okay baby.” She comforts you, hands rubbing tight circles across your back. You want to push her off. You want to run. But you can't, you're frozen, all you can do is bawl. She tilts your head up to her. Rubs her nose against yours. She smells metallic. Like blood. She’s covered in it, you realize with a start. 

You tremble. 

“Don’t be scared.” She repeats. Strokes her fingers along your cheeks. “My pretty girl. I would never hurt you.” 

Her eyes are wild. Pupils blown. No trace of your sweet, loving girlfriend. You don’t recognize the person in front of you. You want her off you. But you don’t dare push her away. She presses you into her. Over her shoulder, you see Chase’s lifeless body. His glassy eyes stare up at you. 

“He’s dead.” You say. Tears leak like acid from your eyes. Tara holds you tighter. 

“I know.” You feel her lips graze the side of your head. She presses a lingering kiss there. “I’m sorry you had to see, darling. I thought you were asleep.” 

A whimper emerges from your lips. Tears fall hot and fast down your cheeks, your hands limp at your side as she holds you. Cradles you. 

“Why?” 

She pauses. You feel her tense. 

“Because they wanted you. All of them. They wanted you, but I’d never let them have you. Because you’re mine.” 

And it clicks. There had been four victims so far. The first was Dan and his brother Sam, both boys you’d known since elementary school. Both who’d had crushes on you. 

Then there was Aaron, your first kiss. Then Sadie, your first girlfriend. 

Your bottom lip trembles. They were all dead because of you. 

Tears roll down your face. Your body starts to shake. 

Tara shushes you, pulls back only slightly to wipe away your tears. She’s so tender, gentle, you almost forget the bloodied body you’d just watch her maim lying in the corner of the room.  

“Don’t cry, sweet girl.” She presses her lips to your forehead. “Here. Look.” 

She steps back momentarily. Shimmies out of her black robes. She’s wearing your old varsity soccer t-shirt underneath. Your sweatpants. The necklace you’d got her for your one year anniversary. She looks like herself again. Your Tara. 

Your bottom lip trembles.

“See. It’s just me.” 

It makes you cry even harder. How could this be real? You’d just watched as your sweet, gentle, loving girlfriend had driven a knife into someone. 

Tara. How could it be Tara? 

“I know, I know, baby. It’s okay.” Her arms are around you again. She holds you as you sob. Every instinct in you screams to run. To get away from this deranged psycho who just killed your best friend in front of you. But you can’t. She’s the only one you want to run to. 

You press yourself into her, tears soaking through her shirt. She cradles you, you feel her lips ghost your forehead. 

“I didn’t want you to find out like this.” She says, “I’m sorry, baby girl. I know it’s a shock.” 

She holds you a while longer. Until your eyes are red and dry, nothing left to cry. Your heartbeat still hammering against your chest. 

What do I do?, You think. Where do I go?

She was calm now, much calmer than you. But that could change in a heartbeat. If you ran, she’d chase you. Maybe even kill you too. That look in her eyes, black, terrifying. You hiccup against her. 

What the fuck do I do? 

 She rubs your back. Draws away from you just enough to wipe the rest of your tears from your face. Lets her fingers linger on your cheeks. 

“Come here.” She dips down before you can protest. Presses her lips to yours. You don’t resist. Electricity flows through your body. Your stomach flutters the way it always does when she kisses you. Your body wants her just as it always does. Guilt flushes through you. You draw back, hold her at arms length. 

“I can’t.” You pull back, a fresh wave of tears rising. Your stomach turns. “I think I’m going to be sick” 

Her hands grip your shoulders. 

“It’s okay. It’s alright. Hey. Look at me.” She’s firm, suddenly. You look up at her through glistening eyes. She softens her voice again, brushes your hair out of your eyes. 

“I’m going to clean this up.” Her head jerks to the body near the corner of the room. “Then I’m going to clean you up.” She strokes the side of your face. Scratches on your cheeks from the glass. 

“And then I’m going to take you to bed and make love to you. Show you just how much I adore you. Alright? Will that make everything better, sweetheart?” 

Revulsion rises in your stomach suddenly. Her hands on you feel heavy. Suffocating. Your cheeks flush hot with emotion. 

“No. Don’t you dare touch me.” You say. You shake off her hands, take a step back. 

The words startle you as much as they startle her. Hurt clouds her features for a moment. She tries to smooth it over, tilting her head. 

“Baby. You don’t mean that.” 

“Yes I do. I don’t want you near me. Not after what you’ve done.” You back up, pressing yourself against the wall. Part of you wants to make a grab for the dagger but she’s too close. Besides, what would you do with it anyway? You weren’t like her. You weren’t a killer. 

Tara blinks. Her eyes fill with something you don’t recognize. 

“You’re just confused.” Tara says, voice hollow. “I know it’s hard to get your head around-“ 

“Please. Go. Just go.”

You’re shaking. Tara stares. Her bottom lip twitches. You recognize what’s behind her eyes this time. Anger. Irritation. 

“You want me to go? After all this. After everything I’ve done for you?” For the first time, her voice is trembling. She looks angry. Hurt. Confused. 

“For me?” You ask. Your voice rises. “You killed my best friend for me?” 

“For us.” She urges. “Don’t you see - there’s no distractions anymore. No one else. No one is going to take you from me.” 

She’s moving closer again. You don’t want her near you. You eye the door, move before she can stop you. 

“YN!” 

You run. Blood rushing in your ears. 

She calls your name again, but you don’t look back. The front door is locked, so you sprint for the back. You can’t think straight, can’t trust your own emotions. So you trust your instincts. 

Run. Run. Run. 

You reach the door, fumble with the handle. Your heart in your throat. You twist it madly, but it doesn’t budge. 

“Come on!” You cry out. You twist again, but it’s too late. 

You feel her hands on your waist as she grabs you. 

You struggle against her, screaming. The sheer force knocks you both over. You scramble up, trying to stand but she’s too quick.  Her hands wrap tight around your waist, pulling you back down to her. She grabs your wrists, holds them tight over your head as she climbs on top of you. 

“Get off me!” You cry, but she doesn’t. Squeezes you down tighter. 

Wild eyes stare down at you. Her eyes, usually the softest brown, are wide, saucer like. Her eyebrows knit together as she pleads.  

“Please, baby, stop.” She begs. “It’s me. It’s just me.” 

She’s smaller than you, but she’s so much stronger. She’s always been stronger than you. It used to be hot, the way she could hold you down with such little effort. Now, it terrifies you. 

You try with all your might to push her off but she only grips tighter. A frustrated sob emerges from your lips. She presses you against the floor. You feel her lips on your forehead as she shushes you.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” She says, voice so tender you almost forget she has you trapped in a vice grip. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“Then let me go.” You wail. Your body goes limp. There’s no point in struggling. She’s too strong. “Please, Tara, just let me go.” 

“I can’t do that, baby.” She says. Her voice soft, almost apologetic, “I love you.” 

You whimper, pathetically. Your mind whirls, going a mile a minute. There’s no way out, you realize. She’s stronger than you. She’s faster than you. And she’s hopelessly and desperately in love with you. She’ll never let you go. 

Your breathing evens out. 

“I love you.” She says again, voice barely above a whisper. 

Her breath is hot, against your mouth. You shudder. She presses her lips to your cheek. Nuzzles her nose into your neck. 

“I love you.” 

Her lips press into your neck. A hot jolt of energy sparks between your legs. Even now, after everything she’s done you can’t help but want her. You start to cry again. 

She tilts herself up. Looks at you, really looks at you. 

Gone is the manic, crazy killer who just chased you down a hallway and stuck a knife in your best friend. Her eyes are wide, that soft, sweet brown they always are. 

There she is. Your first love. Your high school sweetheart. The girl who had taken your virginity. Tara. Your sweet girlfriend, Tara. 

“I love you.” She whispers, a final time. Your heartbeat slows, steady. Your eyes flicker down to her lips. She notices. 

She lingers above you only a moment, before she leans down and captures your lips. 

Heat flushes to your cheeks. Butterflies erupt in your chest.

Warm, warm, warm. 

Is all you feel. 

You groan into her mouth. Confusion flashes through you once again. 

“Stop.” You murmur against her lips. Soft. Half-hearted, like you don’t mean it. She pulls back. 

“Stop?” She asks. Voice low. Like she knows what you’re going to say. 

Your breath hitches. Her hands loosen their grip on your wrists. Her weight on top of you suddenly feels erotic. 

“Don’t stop.” You whisper, and she claims your lips once again. 

Your kisses build, feverish. Desperate. A mesh of lips and teeth and tongue. You loop your hands through her hair, pull her tight against you. 

Her hands loop under your shirt, tug at your jeans. You pull hers off first, wanting her hot and naked against you, groaning at the heat of her skin against your own. 

All thoughts of Chase are gone as you slip your hands into her underwear. She’s wet already, gasps as you circle her clit. You press warm kisses to her jaw. 

She presses you back onto the floor. Tugs your underwear down your legs. Her fingers dip down to your heat. 

“Tara.” You gasp. She nuzzles herself into your neck. Presses, wet, sloppy kisses down your jawline. Her fingers brush your clit before she sinks her fingers inside you. 

She groans. Kisses you deep. 

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight. So wet.”

“Tara.” You gasp. Her fingers curl inside you, her thumb rubbing gently over your clit. She kisses you again. Works her fingers deeper into you. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” She asks. Her voice is graveled, thick with want. You moan out as she hits just the right spot. 

“You like that? You like my fingers inside you?” 

You nod, madly, clawing at her back, trying to pull her closer. 

“I like it too, baby. It’s my favorite thing in the world. I’d do anything to be inside you.” 

Her eyes are black, hazy, lust filled. You kiss her deeply. 

“I’d kill everybody in this town before they’d take you away from me.” She says, eyes wild. “I’d kill everybody in the world. You belong to me.” 

You moan. 

“Tell me.” She says, “Tell me who you belong to.” 

“You, baby.” You gasp. 

“That's right. All mine. Every inch of you.” She growls. Her hand movements are steady. Angry. Pounding into you. Your hips jerk with each thrust, your cheeks red. 

“Nobody else is going to touch you. Not ever. I’m the only one who gets to do this.” She says. Her eyes are starting to blacken again, jealous at the thought of somebody else sinking inside you. 

“No one else.” You pant. “I promise.” 

She growls, takes a nipple in her mouth. Bites down hard. Her fingers drive into your pussy. 

You moan her name. It relaxes her a little. She slows her pace, dipping down to kiss down your stomach. She nuzzles against your thigh, lovingly. 

“Who can blame them?” She says. She reaches up to touch your face, presses a gentle kiss to your belly. Her fingers pump in and out at a steady pace. Her fingers coated in your wetness. “My perfect girl. Always so beautiful. Who wouldn’t want you? I want you all the time.” 

She dips down, presses kisses to the tops of your thighs, rhythm steady as she fucks you. A low moan escapes from your mouth as she licks a long stripe down your center, stopping momentarily to wrap her lips around your clit. 

Your thighs clench around her head but she keeps your legs pried open. She sucks you only a moment before she’s grinning up at you, debauched, slipping a third finger inside your dripping cunt. 

“I wish I could spend every waking moment inside this gorgeous pussy. Always so pretty and tight and wet for me.  Always throbbing around my fingers. Squeezing. Trying to keep me in you, isn’t that right?” 

Her eyes gleam. Her pretty red lips sticky with your arousal. 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby? You’d like me to be in you all the time.” 

“Yes.” You groan. 

“Dirty girl.” She chides. Her head dips down again, and you throw your head back as she sucks on your clit, hard. 

She releases you after a moment. Lips back on your thighs, fingers pummeling up into your g-spot. 

Your stomach coils. She sucks on your thigh leisurely, her fingers slamming into you with no mercy. 

“Mine.” She says. “Say it.” 

“Yours. All yours.” 

Her arms grip tight around your waist. She licks her way up your length, not stopping the force of her fingers. 

You throb around her, so close. She presses kisses to your thighs as she works you to the edge. 

“You going to come for me, baby?” She murmurs, lips on your clit, “Good girl. That’s it, sweetheart. Come in my mouth.” 

She sucks your clit, hard, and you topple over the edge. 

Your back arches. You let out a low groan as your orgasm washes over you. She works you though it, lovingly sucking, her fingers curled. 

You slump back onto the floor as she presses kisses to your belly. She keeps her fingers in you as she leans up, kisses you so tenderly. 

“Good girl.” She murmurs. You sigh into her mouth. You can taste yourself on her lips. It’s intoxicating. She presses a kiss to your neck. 

Draws her fingers out of you. You whine. She smiles, sucks you off her fingertips. 

“Don’t worry baby.” She murmurs. Brushes a lock of hair off your sweaty forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Your heart beat slows. She shuffles herself off you.

Wraps herself tight around your waist, drawing you into her. 

Your eyes draw to the robes of the floor. The mask. The dagger. Chase is here somewhere, dead in another room. And you just fucked his killer. 

Shame floods through you. Your body tenses. She can sense it. She turns you in her arms, pulls you into her bare chest. 

“Shh. Don’t look, baby.” She coos. “I’ll clean it up.” 

“He’s dead.” You say. More monotone than anything. In the last thirty minutes you’ve felt every possible emotion you could ever feel. You’ve cried every last tear. You’ve fought and struggled and lost against your own desires. You’re exhausted. 

“It’s alright, babe.” She senses your resignation. Presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Now it’s just you and me. The way it should be.” 

She tilts your face up to hers. You let her press a kiss to your lips. Close your eyes. 

“I’m all yours, baby.” She says. “And you’re mine. Forever.”  

You nod, slowly. 

She is, there’s no point in denying it. 

Next part

[wayfinder]

hello my fellow madoka enjoyers, i haven't posted about this show in a good few years but the trailer for the new film has me feeling delusional so i'm here to share some thoughts: i think this "false homura" is walpurgisnacht. (read more for theory crafting).

so the "homura is actually walpurgisnacht" idea has been floating around since the original season was airing -- rebellion discredited it quite a bit! the very existence of homulily makes things feels muddled. but hear me out, because this trailer tosses us a lot of bones (nevermind the literal title involving her name). first thing's first, we have two of homura in this trailer, and in the poster:

homura facing the viewer and smiling is who i'm going to call "false homura", and the one with her back to us is what i assume to be "normal" homura. technically homucifer. madoka is seemingly just madoka in the background, but interestingly, she is wearing her outfit from the concept film! i'll come back to this later because it's relevant; let's talk about false homu.

immediately we're greeted with this behind her, which is the tarot card 'XVIII' -- the moon. "the moon is a card of illusion and deception, and therefore often suggests a time when something is not as it appears to be." deception, fear, hidden things & confusion.

this outfit bares a lot of resemblence to walpurgisnacht. the large, ruffled dress. the mid section. the long bell sleeves with white at the ends... it's not subtle. the silhoutte is very apparent, even more so during this shot later:

^ worth noting that false homura's umbrella has the same, ruffled material as well. and her uniform is different! it seems to be an amalgamation of other school uniforms we see in the show.

walpurgisnacht is described as "the stage-constructing witch"...

... "it's nature is helplessness. it symbolizes the fool who continuously spins in circles. the witch's mysteries have been handed down through the course of history; its appellation is "walpurgisnacht." it will continue to rotate aimlessly throughout the world until it completely changes the whole of this age into a drama."

other descriptions of walpurgisnacht talk a lot about this "stage play", and how it is the ultimate end goal:

"she will flood the earth with magic, and take all of humankind into her play. a moving stage construction. if everything is a play, no unhappy things will exist. it may be a tragedy, but it'll all be part of the script. the play stops on walpurgisnacht, and the earth does not turn even once more. the story will not change. tomorrow, and the day after, is the night of walpurgis."

reading this with a rebellion pov is interesting -- after all, homura did exactly this. she rewrote the world, and everything is "happy" now for madoka, so she thinks. the earth does not turn even once more.

interesting that she drops this line at the end of this new trailer:

i also want to point out that the clara dolls we see in the trailer are not homura's usual clara dolls:

these designs are different & match none of the existing clara dolls. they're also missing the blue eyes they had in rebellion. the lower one in this image seems to have a tail of sorts? maybe a salamander tail..?

there was, however, one missing clara doll in rebellion... the 15th, known as "love".

i wonder if love will show up in this movie... (or if it's already here).

taking a small detour from false homura, there's another character in this trailer that's unaccounted for, and that's this girl who seems to be a mix of madoka and homura:

the bow homura uses at the end of the original show.

madoka's hair ribbons and back bow.

homura's skirt and diamond designs.

madoka's heels and puff sleeves.

her entire design is just. them. even the hair color is what you get when you mix madoka and homura's... so who is she? i keep thinking back to how walpurgisnacht is described as an "amalgamation" of other witches & magical girls... hm hm.

when madoka was having it's initial run, one of the series' designers, inucurry, said that "walpurgisnacht and kriemhild gretchen (madoka's witch) are meant to have pairing sillhouettes." when placed together, they form an hourglass -- or a sand timer. food for thought.

& back to the concept film real quick, because i said i'd mention: though it lacks any context, in the film, madoka is talking to some "fairies":

though we're never told what these fairies are, they reminded me a lot of walpurgisnacht's familiars:

i have to wonder if maybe these familiars and the clara dolls have any similarities...

anyways, there's a lot to unpack! lots to think about! it's very clear that walpurgisnacht and homura are linked, but to what extend we'll have to wait and see... though, one last thing about false homura: she is smiling every time we see her.

you wanna know who else is always smiling?

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

[XVIII - The Moon] ; What would they do if you felt insecure?

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Characters: Vergil, Nero, Dante

Relationships: character x gn!reader

Dante gets it. There were many times he drowned himself in shame and insecurity in his life. Whether because he couldn’t save somebody, thinking he wasn’t strong enough, or failing that nasty game called adulting. There was also insecurity regarding his love life. Being a part demon, he secretly worried whether or not will partners be repelled by some weird things that come with his messed-up heritage. He’ll always try to cheer you up, to dissuade the situation. Gives all the reasons why you’re the most amazing person and won’t go easy on the compliments. He has a talent for making people smile or get a thrill. Whether he’s telling the perfectly-timed joke, helping out when his friends are in a fix, or taking his family on an adventure. If it’s really bad, he even cancels his plans for the rest of the day and spends it making you feel better. He wants to remind you of the beauty every moment has to offer.

Vergil will give you solutions and plans for your problems rather than words of encouragement. It’s how he shows he cares. He’s skilled at creating effective ways to achieve goals (way too effective). He’ll give you a concise plan on how to fix to problem you’re currently having. Even though all you need is a kind word and someone to vent to. This may irritate you sometimes, but you have to admit that it led you to improve yourself in many aspects of your life. If you’re feeling overwhelmed and unsure of what to do, he looks at the situation objectively and makes a strategy that will fig you out of the hole you’re trapped in. Be careful though, because Vergil gives honesty when evaluating the situation you’re in.

Nero doesn’t need to be told there’s something wrong. He’s empathetic enough to see it in the small changes in your attitude and compassionate enough to act quickly in a crisis to make sure you’re ok. He may press you for answers when you’re not ready to give them and insist you solve things here and now. If you don’t he worries nonstop. He constantly thinks about you and what could it be that makes you so stressed out. When you finally express your insecurities, he tries to understand where they came from by gently asking you a few well-aimed questions. When he gets a satisfactory resolution he then fully focuses on making you feel better and helping you with whatever you’re struggling with in any way he can.

[arcanarubinaito]

Short Story Taglist

I’ve been meaning to compile a list of content tags I will commonly use, and their meanings. This both gives me a handy reference to use when I’m finalizing everything to post—because honestly I blank out on how to tag it once I get to that point, lol—and I figure I’d post it as both a reference for my own readers and a potential resource for other minific authors here on Tumblr.

This list will be updated as needed; and if you have any tag you think should be added, please comment your suggestions!

I will not be adding tags for certain taboo subjects, as that content will never be on my blog and I’m sure those who write it already know how to properly tag it.

I will not be adding ship tags because frankly there are too many to add.

Please note that this list contains Content Warning tags.

Spoiler Warnings

Asra’s Route

Nadia’s Route

Julian’s Route

Muriel’s Route

Portia’s Route

Lucio’s Route

Tales (Insert Specific Tale Here)

Upright Ending

Neutral Ending

Content Warning Tags

Graphic Depictions of Violence

Gore

Suicidal Tendencies

Self-Harm

Torture

Sexually Explicit Content

Substance Abuse

Depictions of Alcohol

Mild/Mentioned Alcohol Use

Depictions of Drug Use

Mild/Mentioned Drug Use

General Content Tags

Platonic Relationship(s)

Romantic Relationship(s)

Comfort

Hurt/Comfort

Anxiety/Comfort

Hurt/No Comfort

Angst

Whump

Cuddles

Fluff

Major Character Death

Minor Character Death

Slow Burn

Series

Miscellaneous Tags

SFW (<18)

NSFW (18+)

[x] Words

Ask Box

Request

Commission

Gift

Character Tags

Reader/OC Tags

GN Reader

AFAB Reader

AMAB Reader

Nonbinary Reader

Female Reader

Male Reader

Transfem Reader

Transmasc Reader

Self Insert

Apprentice OC

Original Character(s)

Main Six

Asra Alnazar

Nadia Satrinava

Julian/Ilya Devorak

Muriel of the Kokhuri

Portia/Pasha Devorak

Lucio/Montag Morgasson

Familiars/Animals

Faust

Chandra

Malak

Inanna

Pepi

Mercedes & Melchior

Camio

Chimes & Flamel

Jaeger

Courtiers

Consul Valerius

Praetor Vlastomil

Procurator Volta

Pontifex Vulgora

Quaestor Valdemar

Side Characters

Aisha Alnazar

Salim Alnazar

Tasya/Anastasia Devorak

Lishka Devorak

Mazelinka

Halinka (A Warm Welcome)

Khamgalai of the Kokhuri

Morga Eirsdottir

The Satrinavas

Nasrin Satrinava

Namar Satrinava

Nafizah Satrinava

Nazali Satrinava

Navra Satrinava

Nahara Satrinava

Nasmira Satrinava

Natiqa Satrinava

Gavin (The Bazar Job)

Minor Characters

Chamberlain (One of the Palace servants. Unclear if ‘Chamberlain’ is his name or his title.)

Ludovico (Palace Guard)

Bludmila (Palace Guard)

Selasi (The Baker)

Saguaro (An acquaintance of Asra’s, from Nopal)

Tilde the Leech Monger (A leech merchant near Mazelinka’s house.)

Barth/Bartholomew (Bartender of The Rowdy Raven)

Aedile Velos (Once slept in the Palace’s haunted guest room.)

Major Arcana

The Fool (0)

The Magician (I)

The High Priestess (II)

The Empress (III)

The Emperor (IV)

The Hierophant (V)

The Lovers (VI)

The Chariot (VII)

Strength (VIII)

The Hermit (IX)

Wheel of Fortune (X)

Justice (XI)

The Hanged Man (XII)

Death (XIII)

Temperance (XIV)

The Devil (XV)

The Tower (XVI)

The Star (XVII)

The Moon (XVIII)

The Sun (XIX)

Judgment (XX)

The World (XXI)

[ordinorultor-if]

Tarot pt.2

Okay I got distracted playing Mount & Blade yesterday, but here's part 2 of the tarot associations.

B/Bertie is XV - The Devil. The Devil is a card of ambition, sensation and temptation, oppression, and corrupting figures. I think of all the characters, B plays into the dualism between the Reversed and Upright meanings the most. B is jealous of MC, and I wouldn't put it past them to stage a coup if they feel MC is dealing with the Liege poorly, hence the ambition and temptation readings. However, they're probably the member of the Council most against the Liege, and the Reversed meaning of The Devil is all about freeing oneself from oppression and divorcing oneself from corrupting figures. And if MC gets a high enough relation with B, then B is able to (mostly) let go of their jealousy, letting go of their own internal temptations.

A/Alb is XVIII - The Moon. The Moon is a card of trickery, illusion, imagination, and the messages that can be found in one's dreams. Alb is MC's chancellor and diplomatic advisor, responsible for hosting other rulers and communicating with them, hence the association with dream messages. However, they're almost a second spymaster - extremely underhanded and willing to go behind everyone's backs if it furthers their family's goals and/or the deposition of the Liege.

M/Mel is XII - The Hanged Man. The Hanged man is a card of sacrifice, martyrdom, and knowledge. Mel, due to their issues, works themselves to the bone as MC's spymaster, dealing with a spy network that feeds them information from as far away as the capital of the empire or the northern border of Sayland. However, The Hanged Man in its Reversed position is specifically a card of pointless sacrifice, leading back to how the rest of the family would prefer if Mel chilled out.

E is a mix of V - The Hierophant and XVII - The Star. The Hierophant is a card of spiritual authority, conformity, and occasionally mercy, compassion, and education. The Star, meanwhile, is a card of 'the light at the end of the tunnel', joy and hope during a dark time. E, as MC's religious and legal advisor, has a link to the church, especially through their mentor, Bishop Rosalie. Personally, they are a source of great comfort to their family, and a good source of interpersonal advice.

P/P'enfant is XI - Justice. Justice is a card of... well, I don't think you need me to tell you. Once MC decides how to depose the Liege, P begins to become one of the Liege's most vicious opponents, constantly demanding justice for all of their crimes, representing the Upright meanings of karma and justice; additionally, P, as Akize's highest tax official, is the one dealing with the brunt of the Liege's pettiness and abuse of authority (aside from MC), and they also were there to find out when the Liege attacked one of MC's siblings, both of which represent well the Reversed meanings of abuse and miscarriage of justice. Admittedly, this is one of the shakier associations.

The Liege is IV - The Emperor. The Emperor is a card of temporal authority (contrasting with V - The Hierophant, which is similar but more spiritual), leadership, and control. However, the Liege is more associated with the card's Reversed meaning than its Upright meaning: they're a tyrant, they're petty and immature, they're domineering, they're stubborn - all things associated with The Reversed Emperor. There's also minor associations with XVI - The Tower in that by destroying them and upending the old order, MC paves the way for something better... probably.

[wreckedhoney]

A Killer Frequency Major Arcana Match-up! bc sometimes it's fun to match characters & setpieces from a story with the major arcana from the tarot deck. But some picks are better than others lol, I bolded the ones I like best. Feel free to share what/who you'd match with which, or what picks here stand out! Shared a bit of this on discord, so hello to anyone seeing this again! I added more since :)

0. The Fool - Jimmy. Curiosity, Optimism, Journeys, Trust (both deserved & misplaced), Above the opinions of others. Upside down: Agency, Responsibility, Don’t catastrophize/overthink.

I. The Magician - Carrie. Creativity, Invention, Transformative process, Art, Wisdom, Purity. Upside down: Ineffective old habits, Learn new tricks, Hard work, Change.

II. The High Priestess - KFAM Radio station. Welcoming, Mysterious, Fertile, Secrets, Clarity, Good surprises, Opportunity. Upside down: Actions over wishful thinking.

III. The Empress - Brian Ponty. Peace/Abundance, Love/Luxury. Upside down: Trouble in paradise, Collect yourself.

IV. The Emperor - John Hedges. Power/Authority, Responsibility, Self control, Self mastery. Upside down: Need for flexibility over rigidness.

V. The Hierophant - Forrest Nash. Wisdom, Rules, Choosing one’s battles, Conformity. Upside down: Independent paths/Isolation.

VI. The Lovers - George&Marie. Choices, Guided or controlled by emotions, Passion. Upside down: Emotional coldness, Hibernation, Complacency.

VII. The Chariot - 189.16, The Scream. Control over situations, Freedom, Risk of working oneself out of a good thing. Upside down: Moving forward.

VIII. Strength - Leslie Harper. Stamina, Perseverance. Upside down: Draw on hidden strengths, Reflect on strengths one forgets they have.

IX. The Hermit - Clive Elforth. Reflection, Soul searching, Learning by observation. Upside down: Consider sharing one’s wisdom with others.

X. Wheel of Fortune - Roller Ricky’s Roller Rink. Life is circular, Good times will come back, Keep working towards upsides. Upside down: Take a step back before things spin out of control.

XI. Justice - The Producer’s Booth. Fairness, Adherence to rules & consequences. Upside down: Karma for oneself also.

XII. The Hanged Man - Maurice Russell. Patience, Perspective over catastrophizing. Upside down: Patience is not always a virtue; act or retreat.

XIII. Death - George Barrow. Changes, Attempts to avoid conflict may be futile. Upside down: Pointless to resist; may make things worse. Avoid conflict if possible.

XIV. Temperance - Plunker/The Frat. Self restraint, Moderation, Satisfaction with balance, Going with the flow, Patience. Upside down: Reflect on life’s imbalances, Be wary of impulsiveness.

XV. The Devil - Marie Campbell. Base desires, Bound to self-destruction, Prone to temptation/beguiling, Potential to break free but unwilling. Upside down: Detach from self-destruction.

XVI. The Tower - Elis Point/Whistling Point. Sudden changes & chaos, Powerlessness, Humbleness and Brevity. Upside down: Little to no way to avoid inevitable, but it will be okay eventually.

XVII. The Star - Roller Ricky. Transformation, Growth, Healing & forgiveness, Success, Carrying on. Upside down: Lack of guidance, Work to move things to one’s benefit.

XVIII. The Moon - Edward Marshall Mooney. Clarity past distractions, Ego/stubbornness, Dreams & Intuition followed through. Upside down: Anxieties and unhappiness, though it will also pass.

XIX. The Sun - Peggy Weaver. Optimism, Joy, Creativity, Potential for power. Upside down: Use powers wisely, Avoid unneeded conflict, Reach out to others.

XX. Judgement - The DJ Booth. Judge oneself, Examine choices & actions, Reflect on present and goals. Upside down: Avoid overthinking (especially details) as it may cloud judgement.

XXI. The World - Henry Barrow. Completion, Satisfaction. Upside down: Incomplete feelings, Reflect on what was missing.

[cookinguptales]

wwdits tarot meta masterpost

Hi! This is a masterpost of all my WWDITS tarot meta posts along with a little FAQ about the project!

All 22 Major Arcana (and a brief post about the Minor Arcana) are now complete and on tumblr. Each card has gotten a character or theme from the show, and I've used the themes of the tarot to delve into my thoughts about each one.

I also talk about the meaning and imagery of each card, and how I would change that imagery to reflect the character I've assigned to it.

Basically, I designed a WWDITS tarot deck! But I did it by rambling about the characters for several thousand words. I hope you enjoy!

The Posts

0. The Fool (Sean) I. The Magician (The Djinn) II. The High Priestess (Lilith) III. The Empress (The Sire) IV. The Emperor (The Baron) V. The Hierophant (The Guide) VI. The Lovers (Laszlo, Nadja, Guillermo, and Nandor) VII. The Chariot (Laszlo Cravensworth) VIII. Strength (Nadja of Antipaxos) IX. The Hermit (Nandor the Relentless) X. The Wheel of Fortune (........the BBT slot machine) XI. Justice (The Vampiric Council and/or Wellington Paranormal) XII. The Hanged Man (Jackie Daytona) XIII. Death (Colin Robinson) XIV. Temperance (Derek) XV. The Devil (The Hat) XVI. The Tower (Simon the Devious) XVII. The Star (Marwa) XVIII. The Moon (Jenna and Gail) XIX. The Sun (Jan) XX. Judgement (Guillermo de la Cruz) XXI. The World (ancestral soil and graveyard dirt)

The Minor Arcana

What is this project?

Well, I'm a giant nerd about both tarot and What We Do In The Shadows, so why not combine the two? I studied the history, ethnography, and popular interpretations of tarot when I was in college and still do readings for fun. So I'm going to be approaching this from more of an academic POV than a spiritual one, but that's still fun, right? (Right??)

Anyway, I love writing overly complicated meta posts about WWDITS, too, so that's how I've decided to go about this. Each post is about a different card from the Major Arcana, and will contain what I've chosen to represent it, my reasoning, some thoughts about the character/object in question, and ideas about card imagery.

Some questions I've been asked:

Are you making a deck?

No, I am primarily a writer, scholar, and overthinker. I'm not good at visual art. lmao

Can I make a deck based on these ideas?

Yes! I'd love to see what you come up with. Just please credit me and include a link if you intend to use my ideas.

Can I produce a deck based on these ideas and sell it?

Um. Contact me, okay? We'll talk about it.

Why did you choose [X]?

If you want to know about my reasoning for any of these decisions, please feel free to send me an ask. I am always happy to ramble about this stuff.

Do you do tarot card readings?

Once every month or two I open up my askbox to tarot readings. So if you keep an eye out, yes. They're just for fun, though.

You studied the history of witchcraft in college?

look okay it's fine

I think that's everything. I have already thought about this a ridiculous amount, so I already know how I wish to assign all the cards. I plan on posting one of these every few days until I'm through with the Major Arcana, then I'll probably just do a brief overview of the Minor Arcana. As long as y'all keep reading them, I'll keep posting them.

(and if you don't want to see them anymore, please block #wwdits tarot)

[nine-of-words]

(Harpy + XVIII The Moon)

Trans M Harpy x M Reader

Wordcount: 2907

Content Warnings: Magical Disguise, Brief Description of Death, Public Sex, Cloacal Sex (Reader Tops)

I’m doing a little self-inflicted challenge using the monstertober prompt here. But also with tarot card pulls for additional RNG! 

I’m not going to call this monstertober though, because there’s no way in hell I’m finishing all of these in October- knowing me, they're probably going to stretch out a few months. So, not sure what to call it: Autumnal monster one-shots? The name ultimately doesn’t matter.

The moon is full overhead, casting a dull, pale glow over everything.

The tall cedars and pines of the forest loom over you as far as your vision can go in the darkness, no familiar safety of guard towers anywhere in sight.

The sound of baying hounds has finally grown so distant that you feel like you can rest momentarily.

At least you and your fellow guard Kira managed to escape from the conflict relatively unharmed.

You still can't risk a fire, lest you be spotted by any pursuing bandits.

Kira sits perched on a nearby tall stone with the map, sitting in that peculiar way he favors; heel of his boots tucked to his ass. He doesn't seem to be looking at the map though, instead scanning the tree line. You’ve removed your armor, working to bandage the various scrapes you received from the scuffle with bandits on the toll road and the following sudden retreat through the undergrowth.

The adrenaline has finally begun to wear off, leaving you to sit and contemplate your failure.

The caravan you were escorting was attacked, that much is clear. But an ambush on the caravan? …Why?

There wasn’t anything particularly valuable in the caravan, past the everyday possessions of a nobleman. This toll road isn't even known for a high amount of bandit activity- It's why your employer chose to use it.

You grimace, growing tired of trying to sort out the reasons. Instead, your attention is drawn to your partner.

He looks the same as he always does: A slight, handsome male numan, with angular features, silky black hair with a near violet sheen depending on the light, cold pale skin and deeply curious, sharp grey eyes.

You’ve been in what could be called a romantic entanglement since shortly after he was hired on by your employer. You were tasked with training him as the senior guard on staff, though he didn’t need much training at all. Being paired together for guard shifts with someone you found blisteringly attractive only made the inevitable outcome happen sooner. While you’ve enjoyed the trysts, you’ve tried to keep them from interfering with doing your job.

He’s usually cool and collected under the pressure, even when things have gone wrong. But there’s some silent panic happening here, something shifty and out of character with what you’ve come to know.

But something isn't sitting right. Something… is off with him. Different.

You squint at him, getting to your feet with a grunt. 

"...You're hiding something. I can tell."

"No, I'm not." He blatantly denies, dismissive and matter of fact. But you can hear it in his voice, and see it in the hunched way he’s sitting, trying to make himself look smaller. That, and he's been avoiding looking you in the eye since this whole doomed journey began.

You approach the rock he’s perched on, worried he’s concealing an injury from you; he shrinks back, so subtly you almost don’t notice it.

"Hey-" You grasp his face between your hands for emphasis, turning his gaze on you. Perhaps a bit too intimate for the moment, but it's been far too long, nearly a week since you could feel his skin under your fingers, so you indulge yourself. It's been nearly impossible to wedge in any alone time on the road to do so."Talk to me."

You're considering pressing your lips to his for the much needed comfort, when you stop short. The movement causes the hood of his cloak to slide back, just enough to reveal tiny blue-black feathers that have sprouted on the bridge between his eyes, and at the edges of his cheeks.

"...Feathers…?"

"L-Let go-" He brushes you off, turning his face away and drawing his hood back up. "Why do you have to be so damn stubborn all the time? You make everything ten times harder-"

"Don't change the subject!" You sputter, stepping back but not dropping it.  "Feathers! What's happened to your fa-"

In backing away, you’ve given yourself room to see him clearly as a whole, and things seem to change right in front of your eyes.

Wide, shiny black wings hang down from his arms, nearly covering him, like a blanket draped from his shoulders.

Swathes of smaller feathers pepper his face, as well as chunkier feathers dispersed to form ear-like points, and a soft looking crest of plumage peeking out over his collar.

Ill fitting boots fall off and hit the ground with a hollow thunk. They're followed by the padded leggings more suited for less rounded, unfeathered thighs. He's left with just his long hooded tunic, looking almost comfortable.

The rock he’s sitting on certainly looks more like a perch now, between his wings and large scaled avian feet, each tipped with a glossy, blade-like talon.

“Huh.” You can only manage a surprised grunt, forgetting what you were even going to say- too busy taking in the new details of his appearance. Or at least- new to you.

“Glamour.” He laughs mirthlessly and pulls his hood all the way down in defeat. "Racist old fart only ever hired numen on."

"You're involved in this? But the others-" You conclude. Your fists clench, as does your jaw.

"The others aren't coming." He says, pointing a taloned finger towards the darkness of the woods. "And if they're smart, they ran instead of trying to fight. But that's on them."

"But… why?"

"Doesn't matter why, does it?" Kira sighs, shoulders falling as he seems to fully accept that he's been caught. "Someone’s why was big enough they paid a lot of gold for him to be dead. And so, now he's dead."

"I can't believe this-" You glare at him. The residual guilt from failing in your duties morphing into indignance of being lied to by someone you trusted. "You lied to me?"

Your hand instinctively reaches for the hilt of your sword hanging from your belt for some feeling of security, but you only feel empty space- you’ve left it back in its scabbard, where you were sitting on the rocks.

"I did. So, is this where you valiantly avenge your dead employer in the name of loyalty?” There’s the sound of feathers rustling over fabric and claw scraping against stone, just barely there. 

You simply stand there, nostrils flaring and teeth bared, ready to scrap for your life at the hint of violent intent.

“…I don't want to have to hurt you, love, but I'm not dying tonight- and we both know I'm the faster draw."

You don't need to have a clear view to know his hand is already on the hilt of a concealed blade somewhere on his person as he speaks. You've worked and lived and done other things with him long enough now to know.

Everything else- you should've known. Even appearing as a numan, everything about his movement, his way of handling weapons, even his mannerisms at times- screamed criminal. Concealment. Trickery. Deceit.

But you're not one to judge someone on their past, especially not when they're looking for honest work.

"...My loyalty to my employer only persists if he's still alive to pay my wages." You shake your head, recalling from the blurry memory of the tumult the sight of the old man getting a bolt to his neck and toppling from the gilded carriage. "That’s the risk you take hiring mercenaries as your personal guard… He was a sour old bastard, anyway."

The tightly wound tension, thick enough to cut with a knife, evaporates with your acknowledgement.

"And here I thought you just enjoyed playing the hero." His voice is already lighter, back to his normal, jovial tone, devoid now of the cold edge of necessity.

"I enjoy a job well done! That doesn't make me some paragon of virtue!"

"That's exactly something a paragon of virtue would say." He quips, feather bristling as he laughs his decidedly caw-like laugh at his own joke. You wonder how you never noticed that about Kira’s voice before, or if the magic downplayed that too.

You simply groan in response.

"I'll tell you one thing, I'm never buying from that miserable old hag over by the lake again." He spits on the ground in front of him in scorn. "Damned glamour didn't even last half as long as she claimed it would."

You can't hold back the laughter. The absurdity of the situation is too much, and you finally crack. 

“I thought you were taking this a bit too well…” Kira mutters to himself.

You slide a calloused palm down your face, silencing yourself. 

“I take it then,” You feel so foolish, that despite the calamity you just experienced, the idea of him faking his interest in you is what is truly bothering you about the situation. “That all of this was an act?” 

"No! ‘Seduce handsome guard’ was not on the agenda." You feel him risk reaching out for you, the first time since the facade dropped. The familiar feeling of his hand on your forearm is comforting, but the addition of a claw scraping lightly across your skin is surprising. …Though not entirely unwelcome. “That part sort of… fell into place all on its own.”

“Right.” You continue looking at him, trying to discern if this too is a lie.

“You don’t believe me. I don’t blame you.” Kira says, mimicking hurt. Or maybe it’s sincere…?

"Why lead me out here then, if you knew? Distraction?” 

"I wasn't about to let you die pointlessly in a little caravan scuffle. So, I was just… making sure you got out of the woods okay."

"You could've let me know ahead of time." You grumble.

"Ah yes, because that would've gone over flawlessly!"

You let out a resigned huff. You don't like this- but there's not much you can do about it now.

"Maybe I can make it up to you?" He says, voice suddenly suggestive and almost melodic. "For playing along so nicely."

You know that tone very well. Your body stirs on its own in response, without regard to your higher faculties.

A little subterfuge and a few feathers aren’t enough to eradicate your care for him, it seems. 

Before you can think to object, he's hiked the hem of his tunic up, showing off the soft slope of the upper portion of his raised and spread avian legs. His taloned fingers part the plumage of short feathers between his legs, showing you the pinkish hole underneath, his tail feathers spread out against the rock below.

That’s new. 

And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious…

"Well?"

You peel your eyes away and glance around pointedly with raised brow, not having to say out loud that you're out in the middle of the woods right now- and while you’re no stranger to making do in the wilderness when the need strikes, you have recently fled from an ambush within the last few hours.

“I told you, no one’s coming. It’ll be fine.” The hand on your forearm migrates to claw at the front of your tunic, encouraging you closer with a smirk on his face. “...No one else, at least.”

You can't resist anymore, one hand moving to hold him around the waist. 

“There you are,” Kira coos in approval at the weight of your touch on the bunched fabric at his waist, taking your face in his hands to kiss you on the lips, then press a few in a trail down your neck. “You’ll have to make this angle work for you, I’m afraid. I'm not in the mood to roll about in the dirt tonight."

He reclines slightly, bracing himself against the surface of the rock and balancing himself, making it look easy.

Wasting no time, you bring your other hand up and probe two of your fingers experimentally into the opening. It's soft and warm as usual, but it’s already fully slicked and the way its ribbed edges are pulling at your fingers, like it’s trying to drag them inside, is a foreign sensation. You thought two fingers might be too much to start with, but you’re starting to think your whole hand could easily be swallowed up whole at this point with how deeply they’re sinking in, lost to the ribbed interior.

Your mind tries to make sense of the newness- you know you’ve been acquainted with this part of him before, because there are some things even glamoury can’t change, but the experience of it being different and yet so familiar is making your head spin.

It was a bit suspect that he always seemed to be lubed before you got down to business, despite how unlikely the scenario. It’s partly your reasoning behind thinking he was out to seduce you, but now you’re realizing that he was just telling the truth about genuinely finding you attractive the whole time- at least if the slippery fluid coating your fingers now is any indication.

“Aaah,” His bird-like feet clench in the air at your sides, grasping at nothing. He winces as he watches down his torso, half-lidded eyes focused on your hand working inside him. “Nnh-”

You thought you liked the sounds you could draw out of him before, but now they’re downright enchanting.

It doesn’t take much exploring before you’re burning up with lust under your clothes, unable to hold back any longer.

You wrap your hand around his thin scaled ankle, making enough room for yourself between his legs. Then you close the distance until your boot tips are nearly flush to the face of the stone, hastily rustling yourself just barely free between your breeches and your tunic, already painfully worked up and ready to go. 

After a bit of somewhat blind searching, you manage to press your cock inside, his cloaca relatively in the same location that it’d be if he were still in numan form. The sweet crush of his vent is even better wrapped around your dick than on your fingers, to little surprise. Downy feather edges tickle the damp surface of the sensitive, just barely exposed skin on your pelvis.

Once you’re sure you’ve gotten where you need to be, you grip the other side of his waist as well. Your instincts kick in and you’re out the gate, already thrusting into the heat like your life depends on it.

Even the slightly unconventional staging isn’t enough to keep you from your goal. You’re well enough acquainted with what your partner needs to only need some minor adjustments to quickly find a familiar, if a bit harried, rhythm.

“Fucking hell,” You emphatically hiss through clenched teeth, over the wet, slightly muffled sounds of wet flesh and rustling feathers. “Does that feel good.”

“Glad it’s good for something- Nngh-” 

You continue to rut into him like a wild beast, grunting and chasing down the growing tightness in your loins. 

You want to hit every part you can reach, touch every part of him there is to touch, hammer out a permanent space for yourself.

It may be a change from what kind of hole you’re used to fucking, but you couldn’t care less at this point. The difference is inconsequential.

It’s still him.

Kira’s legs wrap around you like a set of arms embracing you, crossing over your lower back, holding you closer as he grinds back against your thrusts. His oversized talons dig into your flesh through the fabric like human fingers demanding more. The harder and faster you thrust, the closer you get to having the skin on your lumbar rended to shreds through your tunic, but you're too enamored to care.

He goes to cover his mouth with his feathered arm as his body starts to shudder, but you intercept with your own, pinning his wrist to the rock at his side. 

If you went through all this trouble tonight- and find out the lover you’ve been fucking this whole time is a bird- you’re at least going to get to hear him sing.

“Uungh-” Kira lets out an interrupted noise in surprised approval, mouth agape in a pleased rictus. His vocalizations hit their highest, quivering pitch just as his vent constricts around your cock in the hardest squeeze. “Aah-Aaaah-”

His spine bends in an elegant arc and his sharp talons dig into your knuckles as their hand grips into yours where you have him caught. As his strangle hold on you lets up, a new wave of slickness coats you, making it hard to keep yourself together.

You’re dead on your feet by the time you unload inside of him, running only on pleasure and leftover vestiges of adrenaline. You unwind, senses overloaded and your thinking thoroughly dulled. All you are sure of before you sleep is that you managed to satisfy; both him and yourself.

In the morning, you wake to sunlight filtering through the trees above, flat on your back on a relatively evenly-faced slab of rock.

"What am I going to do now?" You wonder aloud and grind one of your palms on your grimy face. "I'm out a job and a place to live…"

Even if you go back now, your reputation is ruined. You won't be able to find work, and there will certainly be questions…

Pointed tips of clawed fingers brush through your hair from behind you, raising gooseflesh on the back of your arms.

"Well, as luck would have it, I know someone who's hiring."

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

[h-a-unted]

VIII - STRENGTH: Give a good example of your character showcasing their strengths in a dire situation.

XVIII - THE MOON: When has your character ever been at their most disappointed?

For Caradine!!

Caradine's strength lies more in his intelligence, perception, and willpower than anything. Because his body is more of a wildcard in terms of resistance, (that is not to say he is weak, he can get by... usually, sometimes) he relies more on logic and ingenious ways of getting himself in and out of situations first and foremost. He's also a great leader, so he relies on this to get by. In dire situations, he'll more often than not boss the right people around to get the results he envisions or hopes to gain. That's mostly what we've seen him do in canon and I think it does describe him well. He's not usually in the line of fire, not anymore anyway.

He definitely felt most disappointed when he realized one of his own had betrayed all they stood for and the fact that he never noticed at all. He was disappointed both in himself and the person, but mostly himself for not being able to read through the lines. But, what lines, though? He doesn't think there were any clues to begin with, and that only makes things all the more troublesome, his disappointment bigger. He should've known, he should've noticed regardless of how hidden it all was, but he didn't, and it got people killed.

[greypetrel]

Some spoilers from a person trained in literary criticism, after opening youtube and cringing hard at the title of a video and it had me screeching in annoyance at people who thinks consuming a lot of fiction automatically makes you a Literary Critic, and that will mix personal taste with objective truth.

A long, rantful tirade under the cut that I may or may not delete later.

ALL art is derivative. Or at least, Literature surely is. The great breakthroughs are so because they refused some conventions. Meaning that they had those conventions in mind and actively chose not to follow them. They're still derivative. Using "Fanfiction" as a slur is perfectly pointless and not that slur you think it could be, and "originality" is not something we should praise so much and looks so much to... Not if we don't want to be disappointed. Nothing is truely original in art, not in the "Never done before" way (one could argue that early cinema was original? Oh sure, as a mean of expression! But take a moment and consider "People travelling to the moon" as a theme in literature. I can trace it back at the II century AD, and I wouldn't be surprised if the theme came up before that in other cultures I am not so knowledgeable of. Méliès' Voyage dans la Lune is original in execution because cinema was new... As for the story? Still derivative!

The concept of "Mary Sue" as a slur should die. Really. Stop. That type of character may not speak to you and that's very valid, it's your right in not liking it! still doesn't make it objectively bad or evil, or something to despise. Two people will read the same book in two different ways. That's the beauty of literature: it's not high school math which has a right and a wrong answer. Literature and Humanities work in shades of grey. If some people need to have a main character that's clumsy, that's beautiful but very unsure of herself, that's important to the story, so they can identify themselves in her and maybe gain some more trust in themselves, what's wrong? There's nothing wrong in liking, in needing a Mary Sue, and there's equally nothing wrong in disliking her. It's just a matter of taste and of the right moment you read her. I read Twilight in three days because by that time I WAS clumsy and unsure of myself, I WAS just in high school after years of middle school being bullied. I could relate to Bella, and it felt nice, at 14, to see that even if you can't stand on your feet for more than 10 minutes, you can still live adventures and be loved. I stopped reading the saga because the "Edward dumped me and I stopped living" didn't resonate with me at all, and I didn't go further in my reading. Years of Liceo Classico and Academies got me hating Twilight because EEEEEW BELLA IS A MARY SUE EEEEEEW. That's bullshit.

Personal taste =/= Judgement over how good or bad is a book. I am sorry to relate this to you, but no, reading a lot of fiction doesn't make you a literary critic. Because good literary criticism takes the context into account to judge a book. You can't separate a book from its context, particularly when you're talking about classics, but also talking about modern books. Because no author lives in a bubble and doesn't act influenced by the society they live in. There are objective parameters to judge a book! But beside the fact that most authors played around it, and that those parameters are also HIGHLY depending on the context we're in (just as an example: Shakespeare was HIGLY unpopular in XVIII century Enlightment criticism. Voltaire hated the guts out of him and didn't consider him a good playwriter... Because Shakespeare didn't follow the Ancient Greek/Roman theatre criteria that the Enlightment preferred. That's just it. So you see, criteria vary too with the historical context. A book celebrated today may not be celebrated tomorrow.). But: you can like and dislike Classics. It's ok. It's normal. You have a personal taste, and the fact that a book has some objective value that makes it a classic and makes the book worth studying is totally separated from your personal taste and should always be kept separate. I majored in English Literature: I know that Dickens is a hugely important author, I know why he is and why he's in literature history books, why we study him and with reason. It doesn't change that I find Dickens' books terribly boring, they don't speak to me, they're out of my taste and preferences. Hard Times was probably the only book in my uni I couldn't bring myself to finish and read the summary on Wikipedia of. I tried, it isn't for me. I still think they should be studied in school, because they're very important for their period, and hugely useful to understand Victorian mentality and context.

That's it, welcome to my TED talk, I'm sorry for the tirade but I opened Youtube and there was a video titled "Is Rings of Power Galadriel a Mary Sue??" which had me fuming from my ears.

What if she is? Who cares? Just say you didn't like the show, that you imagined Galadriel in a different way and that's it. Don't deminish people who on the other hand liked her.

I promise, you can write your opinion of a book/show/media as just your personal opinion and impression. I swear it's fine, anyone who studied Literature would know that criticism is just that and doesn't mean much, that you can like a movie that's technically bad and dislike a movie that's technically great and that's perfectly fine and valid.

You don't need to make it an universal experience and an objective truth to be entitled to your opinion. Good taste is overestimated anyway. Embrace the trash. You're not a better person if you only like critically acclaimed stories, believe me, it took me years to realise it.

But still, if you want to write some proper criticism... Context is essential. Otherwise you read Jane Austen and you think she wrote romances. Which she didn't. She was a social satyrist and a terribly brilliant one. We just read her out of her context, we have lost the parameters to grasp the criticism because we live in a different society. The romance is all that's left. You can read Pride and Prejudice just as a love story... But if you want to write a critic essay over it, you can't treat it as such. You can say "I liked the romance plot the best!" and still say it's a brilliant satyre. But you have to know it's satyre.

[persona-polls]

Arcana Tournament ROUND 1

Ever since day 1, the major arcana of tarot has been a central mechanic to the Persona franchise. One aspect to this is the representation of these arcana using characters you'll meet on your journey.

But which arcana has the best representatives? Which arcana is the most beloved? Well, that's what I'm here for!

The major arcana will face off until there is only one card standing! My intended purpose is to vote based on the characters represented by the arcana, but I can't and won't force you to follow that. If you wanna vote due to social link perks or personas or something I don't care!

If the concept or method is confusing, there's more info here!

Because 22 (it's 22 right...?) is an awkward number, some will have to sit out this round. But for now, here are the matchups! They'll go live on April 20th and can be found at these links once I remember to add them:

0 - Fool / Jester vs XIII - Death VI - Lovers vs V - Hierophant / Apostle XIX - Sun vs III - Empress XI - Strength / Hunger vs II - Priestess VIII - Justice vs IV - Emperor XVII - Star vs XVIII - Moon XV - Devil vs I - Magician / Councillor Unnumbered - Faith / Hope vs XII - Hanged Man

[385bookreviews]

1.3.3 Morning Star by Pierce Brown

SPOILERS

Pages: 518

Read Time: 11 hour and 4 minutes

Overall Rating: ★★★★★ Storyline: ★★★★★ Dialogue: ★★★★★ Characters: ★★★★★

Genre: Adult Science Fiction

TWs for the book: Violence, war, torture, gore, death, murder, blood, su*c*de, confinement, paranoia, cursing, classism, gun violence, slavery, kidnapping, body horror, emotional abuse, genocide, physical abuse, racial slurs (in accordance with the races of this universe), sexism, su*c*dal thoughts, xenophobia, grief, cannibalism, medical trauma, colonization, drug use, self harm, PTSD

POV: First person; Darrow

Time Period/Location: A future of genetically enhanced and segregated humans across the Solar System, including Mars, Io, Earth, Luna (Earth’s Moon), and the outskirts of Jupiter.

First Line: I rise into darkness, away from the garden they watered with the blood of my friends.

After the tragedy of the Triumph at the end of Golden Son, Morning Star opens a year later, with Darrow imprisoned by the Jackal in a stone box. He is slowly going insane from the darkness, but, just as he is about to end it all, he is slowly lifted from it. The entire time he was inside a stone table, and it has been 9 months that he has been in the box, after being tortured for 3. He is being given by the Jackal to Cassius au Bellona and Aja au Grimmus so the Sovereign can have him dissected. He is taken by Legion XVIII Grays, and during this, rescued by two of them, brother and sister, Holiday and Trigg ti Nakamura. On their way out they encounter Vixus, who reveals that Victra is alive. Darrow demands they free her, which reveals their escape. Darrow kills Vixus, and they escape into a tunnel dug by clawDrills with the help of Ragnar, Sevro, and the Sons of Ares, who Sevro now leads as Ares. This, however, costs Trigg’s life. Darrow awakes in the underground Sons of Ares run city of Tinos. His entire Red family is there, as is Dancer, Sevro, and Ragnar. Sevro reveals to Darrow a lot of things, such as Darrow’s Carving being made public after the Society fake executed him as a Gold and not a Red spy, that the Moon Lords of Jupiter and the rest of the outer Rim planets had rebelled with the aid of Mustang and the Telemanus family, and that Sevro had taken Darrow’s original Red eyes in place of his Gold ones. Darrow undergoes another carving by Mickey to restore him back to how he was, but has his sigils removed so his hands are bare. They go on bigger and bigger missions till Darrow, Victra, and Holiday are inducted as Howlers. Sevro then decides to move on with their mission to economically collapse the society by kidnapping Quicksilver, the richest Silver in the Solar System and the Jackal’s silent partner, and bombing Phobos. They smuggle into Phobos and find Matteo, the pink that trained Darrow in Aureate society before he went to the Institute, but Sevro breaks his jaw when he doesn’t know where Quicksilver is. They head to his office, and are shocked to find Mustang, Kavax au Telemanus, Moira au Grimmus (sister to Aja), and Cassius brokering a peace treaty between the Moon Lords and the Sovereign. Sevro goes off the walls, drunk on power, and begins a battle. Moira dies, Cassius and Mustang escape, and Kavax, Matteo, and Quicksilver are taken prisoner. Darrow assumes control from Sevro and they escape in the void of space out the window and into the back of Holiday’s ship. Once back in the Sons of Ares safe house, they stress on how to escape, and then go to question Quicksilver. He reveals he was the original Son of Ares all along after having found it with Fitchner. Darrow and Sevro fight, and Sevro defers leadership to Darrow. In order to save the Sons of Ares on Phobos and cause a ruse for another plan, he starts a rebellion of all the lowColors on the moon. As the rebellion rages and he is assumed to be on Phobos, him, Holiday, and Ragnar escape in a ship headed for the south pole of Mars, where they plan to raise an Obsidian army and lead them out of slavery. Mustang also accompanies them on this journey, saying she needs proof that Darrow is fighting for the right cause. After the Obsidians challenged Gold years back, the Golds had marooned them on the poles of the planets, brainwashing them into thinking Golds are Asgardian gods and that their technology is magic to keep them in check. Ragnar intends to show his tribe the way to freedom and have them join the Rising, but they are shot down by Cassius and Aja. They fight off cannibals and snow storms and Carved monsters, but eventually track down Cassius and Aja. Mustang shoots Cassius through the throat and he survives but is subdued, and Aja brings down Ragnar before stumbling off of a cliff. As he lay dying, his sister and her Valkyrie arrive on griffins. He tells her to live for more, and then dies. This leaves Darrow, Holiday, and Mustang to entreat Ragnar and Sefi’s mother, Alia Snowsparrow, to join their cause and tell her people the Golds are false gods. She knew already, however, and tells Sefi to turn them into the Golds on the floating mountain of Asgard. Sefi takes them, but not before making a deal with Darrow to let him prove to her the gods are false, and he does, killing Procter Mercury, who was disguised as Loki, and another Gold disguised as Freya. They capture the rest of the Golds in the mountain, return to the tribe, and present them to the war council and Alia. She demands the Golds freed so Sefi beheads Alia, and then slowly kills all of the Golds. Several weeks later, she has united the Obsidian tribes of south Mars, and leads them all back to Tinos. Their next move is to sail to Io to convince Romulus au Raa to ally with them against the Society’s Sword Armada, led by none other than Roque au Fabii. Darrow convinces/tricks them into an alliance, and they defeat the Sword Armada. Roque kills himself before being taken prisoner or disgraced, and Antonia flees, but is soon caught. Darrow destroys Romulus’s ship port, framing Roque for it, so the Moon Lords will not be a threat to him for the rest of the war. They broadcast that they are sailing to Mars when they actually sail for Luna.  During this time, the Obsidians revolt after Darrow’s uncle Narol was publicly executed by the Jackal. They hang Gold prisoners and attempt to hang Cassius, but Sevro proves a point that they need to be better by hanging himself. Cassius and Sevro fortunately survive the display, and shortly after Victra and Sevro are married. They sail on Luna, and, after rebonding with Cassius, Darrow decides to let him go before one of the Obsidians or Reds sneak into the prison during the battle and kills him. He betrays them however, and kills Sevro, captures Darrow and Mustang, frees Antonia, and escapes. They bring Darrow, Mustang, and Sevro’s body before the Jackal, and the Jackal demands Cassius to cut off Darrow’s sword hand, which he does. He then takes them before the Sovereign. Octavia executes Antonia for her cowardice during the battle in the Rim, and then starts live-streaming the execution of Darrow. The Jackal demands to put him down, but instead, Cassius reveals the entire thing was a trick and starts killing the Praetorians in the room. Together, Darrow, Mustang, Cassius, and the now revived, not dead at all Sevro take down the Truth Knight and the Joy Knight, pin the Jackal to the floor, cut Octavia’s belly open, and kill Aja. They let the Sovereign die, leaving her grandson Lysander alive, and then hear the Jackal laugh. He begins to instruct his Bonerider, Lilath, to detonate 30 megaton nuclear warheads all over Luna. He gets around 15 of them off before Darrow rips out his tongue and the Ash Lord destroys Lilath’s ship. Mustang becomes the new Sovereign of the Society, and the Jackal is hanged. The Ash Lord flees to Mercury, and Cassius takes Lysander with him to start a new life. At the end of the book, Mustang and Darrow are on Earth where she reveals that she has been keeping a secret from him. Another ship with Darrow’s family and the Telemanus family arrive, and he is introduced to his and Mustang’s son, Pax. 

Darrow O’Lykos (The Reaper of Mars; The Morning Star): Darrow’s humbling at the hands of the Jackal is some serious character growth that was much needed. He realizes that he and the people around him are not invincible, and is more willing to make sacrifices and smarter decisions. The reveal of him having a son with Mustang is a lovely closing arc (despite there being more books). Eo and their child was lost, but he gained a new life, in a better world with Mustang and their son, the ultimate reward for his sacrifices. The grace he shows for Roque, Cassius, and Thistle despite what they have done to him show him to be a true judge of character.  The only thing I wish had been shown more was his PTSD from the Jackal. Granted he does have it, and it is shown, but I felt as though there could have been better representation of that. 

Cassius au Bellona (The Morning Knight): Cassius has one of the best redemption arcs I have ever seen, starting with when he covers the naked and tortured Darrow after he is brought out of the Jackal’s box with his own Morning Knight cloak. Darrow never gives up on him, even when they are enemies, and it eventually gets through to him. He shows grace, mercy, true honor, and a lack of the “revenge/blood for blood” motto he has in the first and second book. It was a really scary plot twist to go from Cassius being good, to him “killing” Sevro and “capturing Mustang and Darrow”, to him then being revealed as good again. 

Sevro au Barca (Goblin; Ares): I’m sorry but you will be hard pressed to find a more badass scene than when Sevro hangs himself to save Cassius. 

Storyline: The storyline of this book is exquisite. It keeps you on your toes the whole time, and everything flows together really well. Everything makes sense (no “Game of Thrones finale” endings here). Nothing magically resolves itself, there are no plot holes, and the author isn’t shy about killing major characters (RIP Ragnar, Roque, Lorn, Tactus, Quinn, Lea, Pax, Fitchner, and Uncle Narol).

Representation: Orion xe Aquarii, Thistle, and Aja au Grimmus are the only people of color explicitly mentioned. Quicksilver proclaims very proudly that Matteo is his husband. Holiday explains that her brother Trigg was engaged to a man named Ephraim. There are more comments alluding to the fact that Roque and Tactus were involved, and Tactus’ brother makes a joke asking if him and Darrow were involved, as Darrow “wouldn’t have been the first.”

Summary: The plot twists of this book, the secret plans, the bold moves, the character development, the gut wrenching emotions, the entertaining and powerful dialogue, all combines into a serious masterpiece of a book and a great ending to the first part of the series. It has a heavy happy ending; there are still problems, nothing is perfect, they only arrived there through blood, sweat, tears, and death, but everything is good, because they have won, and Darrow has gotten back what he lost in a new way. 

Quotes:  “All deeds that last are painted in blood.” (pg. 5) “’I will give Eo your love. I will make a house for you in the Vale of your fathers. It will be beside my own. Join me there when you die.’ He grins. ‘But I am no builder. So take your time. We will wait.’”-Ragnar Volarus (pg. 237) “’This is always how the story would end, Adrius,’ I say down to him. ‘Not with your screams. Not with your rage. But with your silence.’”-Darrow O’Lykos (to Adrius au Augustus) (pg. 501) “’A man thinks he can fly, but he is afraid to jump. A poor friend pushes him from behind.’ He looks up at me. ‘A good friend jumps with.’” “Justice isn’t about fixing the past, it’s about fixing the future. We’re not fighting for the dead. We’re fighting for the living. And for those who aren’t yet born.”-Darrow O’Lykos “And I wonder, in my last moments, if the planet does not mind that we wound her surface or pillage her bounty, because she knows we silly warm things are not even a breath in her cosmic life. We have grown and spread, and will rage and die. And when all that remains of us is our steel monuments and plastic idols, her winds will whisper, her sands will shift, and she will spin on and on, forgetting about the bold, hairless apes who thought they deserved immortality.”-Darrow O’Lykos “If your heart beats like a drum, and your legs a little wet, it’s because the Reaper’s come to collect a little debt.”-Sevro au Barca “Man is no island. We need those who love us. We need those who hate us. We need others to tether us to life, to give us a reason to live, to feel.” “What is pride without honor? What is honor without truth? Honor is not what you say. It is not what you read.” Romulus thumps his chest. “Honor is what you do.”-Romulus au Raa

[cookinguptales]

wwdits tarot: the moon

We’re drawing close to the end now… Only three more Major Arcana after this one, The Sun, Judgement, and The World.

This weekend, I’m planning on opening my inbox up to asks for tarot readings again to celebrate finishing this project, so keep an eye out! I’ll probably be making a poll for which deck y’all would like me to use shortly.

Today’s card is XVIII. The Moon, and it’s probably the only card that I wanted to use two different characters for so badly that I wracked my brain trying to think of the best way to do it.

I think I’ve settled on a good solution. We’ll see what you guys think.

The Moon is about fear, insecurity, and illusion. It’s a card that cautions you against giving into self-doubt, and advises you to try and see your situation with unclouded eyes.

The Moon is one of those cards that feels compassionate but at the same time lightly chastising to me. There is a sense here that you might be feeling afraid because of things in your past. There has been past trauma or your self-esteem has been systematically broken down. You have reason to feel afraid, The Moon acknowledges, but that doesn’t change the fact that your fear is illusory.

There’s also a sense to this card that things are not always as they seem. Either you are tricking yourself due to your anxieties, or someone else is tricking you and you need to see through their lies. Maybe there’s just a miscommunication and a misconception, or maybe there is active deceit afoot.

The Moon tells you to have faith in yourself and step out into the moonlight regardless of your fears. It tells you to see through the illusions holding you back and stop being so darn anxious. While your fears are not entirely unfounded, you are the only person who has the strength to push past them.

With all that said, there are two characters that fit this card well for me but in very, very different ways. Put simply, I had one character in mind who represented the fear — and one who represented the fearful.

And then I remembered: The Moon has two dogs on it, a domesticated one and a wolf.

So I think… yes, this dog certainly has room for my puppy and the wolf.

First, let’s talk about the dog. The first character I want on this card is Jenna. Jenna is a small quivering dog of a vampire, let’s be real. She does overcome this, to some degree, but I think her overall vibe really, really suits this card.

Jenna isn’t a weak person and she never has been. She’s bright, she’s curious, she’s capable, and she likes to try new things. But… her self-esteem is terrible and she lets people walk all over her. She’s so, so timid. The world scares her mainly because she believes that she’s too weak to live in it, whether that’s true or not.

Jenna does seem to have been systematically browbeaten by her peers (something that sets Nadja off and makes her want to liberate her) so you can kind of see where her timidity comes from. People have told her she’s not good enough, and people have treated her like she’s not good enough, so you can see where the fear that she’s not good enough has come from.

She allows people to treat her the way she believes she deserves to be treated, and she thinks she deserves to be treated that way because of how they treat her. It’s a vicious cycle.

But, like The Moon tells us, it’s also an illusory one. Jenna is not weak, and she grows into herself and her powers very admirably. We’re really only seeing the first few baby steps of her journey (mainly because Beanie Feldstein started getting other work) but it’s really lovely to see her grow past her fears and shatter the illusions that’s been laboring under for years.

That’s symbolized even more heavily by her unique power, which is invisibility. She is able to take advantage of the exact illusion that’s been used against her for all these years, and now she’s able to use it against others.

When it comes to the base idea of a person cowed by illusions and needing to take control of their own destiny, Jenna is a very, very straightforward representation of The Moon.

So when it comes to the dog — or rather, maybe still just a puppy — I want to have Jenna.

But… on the other hand, there is also the wolf... and I mean that both literally and metaphorically. The other character I want to have on this card is Gail.

As far as wolves and illusion go, it’s not very hard to see where those things come in when we’re talking about a literal werewolf. She was hiding that she literally turns into a wolf here. Like… it’s not a stretch.

But I want to go a lot deeper than that and talk about how Gail functions in the narrative and how she has nurtured both fear and illusion in Nandor.

Now — let’s get one thing straight. Nandor is an idiot who creates his own problems. Gail has never promised him forever, and a lot of his angst involving her really revolves around the Gail that he has invented in his mind, not the one who has always been pretty honest about her intentions.

But at the same time, she does not treat this guy well. She knows he’s head over heels for her but still keeps coming back to string him along whenever she gets bored. She doesn’t respect him and doesn’t seem to like him that much and certainly doesn’t want to be loyal to him. And while she never exactly promised him loyalty, it still seems rough to be fucking another guy without even telling him. If you don’t want a monogamous relationship, that’s fine — but it seems like she didn’t even tell Nandor or Anton that she wasn’t being faithful to either of them. They deserve that information.

And she drives Nandor mad. He’s always had insecurities, but Gail always seems to ratchet that up to 100. Every time she leaves him, or insults him, or cheats on him, he starts to fall into a deep depression about whether he can ever be loved. She encourages his insecurities and feeds him lies to keep his illusions about her intact.

I don’t mean the werewolf thing, to be clear. It seems like she was actually fairly honest with him about that. But he definitely didn’t know she was also sleeping with a werewolf, whom she let turn her, and that illusion, that of affection and loyalty, was one that deeply hurt him. More importantly, she really does seem to encourage this illusion that there could be a real, lasting relationship between them.

A normal person who just wants something casual with someone will break up with them or at least be super, super clear with them once they start getting in too deep. The smart, kind thing to do would have been to make a clean break with Nandor the first time she dumped him. But this apparently happens all the damn time, her showing up, her getting his hopes up, and then her leaving again. While Nandor should have gotten the memo by now (no pun intended), she is far from blameless in this toxic relationship.

It kind of feels like she shows up every time she needs an ego boost, or maybe a temporary playmate, and she’s willing to manipulate Nandor in order to get that. Sometimes it seems like she enjoys feeding into his anxieties and having men who will tie themselves in knots over her while she dangles the illusion of affection over their heads. It's just unkind.

Gail is certainly feeding both his illusions and his insecurities, but like The Moon always tells us — Nandor is still the only one that can actually fix his own problem here. He needs to rise above his fears and see through the illusions she’s fed him so he can move on with someone who actually loves him.

(Speaking of Memos…)

So I think that Gail and Jenna really show both sides of this card, the fear and the creator of it, someone blinded by illusions and someone who makes a meal of them. And both of them show the importance of facing your fears and tearing down illusion.

I think having both the dog and the wolf on here in their most metaphorical senses is probably the way that I want to go forward with this one. I want both the fear and the fear itself, if you get me.

To show that, let’s go into the imagery.

Like I said, The Moon is a card that has both a dog and a wolf baying at the moon together, who looks down at them both. The dog and wolf represent the tamed and untamed parts of our mind, and the crawfish emerging from the water and starting on its path represents emerging from illusion and beginning your journey away from it. (It also sometimes represents the emerging enemy that you need to watch out for!)

I would have both Jenna and Gail on this card, a puppy and a wolf at their sides respectively, each with one hand resting on the canine assigned to them. The dogs are both looking up at the moon, but Gail and Jenna are both looking down their path, clear-eyed and knowing what they truly want.

(The crawfish can… stay, I guess. lmao)

wwdits tarot masterpost

[kulelna]

very, very tempted to bring my atem on here on a sideblog or something. if i end up not doing that i feel obligated to share some of my favourite discord rps involving him because he’s very fun to write but i have barely done anything but shitpost

behold, The Griffin's Atem Experience: