#is a reflection of the values behind the people in charge

[dissapointu]

S/O headcanons for Arcane characters, with insights into their relationships and personalities—and just a hint of spice.

Jinx

• Dynamic Relationship: Being Jinx’s partner is a wild ride. You match her chaos with a steadying presence, though she loves when you embrace her mischief and join in her unpredictable schemes.

• Tender Moments: Amid the mania, she has soft, quiet moments where she clings to you like you’re her anchor in a storm.

• Playful Possessiveness: Jinx doesn’t like sharing, and her jealousy can manifest in teasing or even explosive antics. But it’s all because she’s terrified of losing you.

• Smut: In the bedroom, her energy translates into passionate, adventurous encounters. She’s a mix of teasing and intensity, eager to explore boundaries while craving your undivided attention.

Vi

• Supportive Partnership: Vi thrives in a relationship built on mutual respect and trust. You’re her equal, her teammate, and she loves having someone she can count on.

• Protective Nature: She’s fiercely protective, always watching your back—whether it’s in a fight or just keeping creeps away from you in a bar.

• Soft Side: Behind closed doors, Vi is surprisingly tender. She loves cuddling after a long day, running her fingers through your hair as she unwinds.

• Smut: Vi brings a mix of strength and care to the bedroom. She loves taking charge, but her primary focus is on your pleasure, making sure you feel safe and cherished throughout.

Sevika

• Power Couple Energy: Your relationship with Sevika is built on mutual respect, shared ambition, and unshakable loyalty.

• No-Nonsense Partner: Sevika isn’t one for grand romantic gestures, but her steady presence and protective nature speak volumes. She values action over words.

• Playful Rivalry: You have a habit of teasing her about her tough exterior, which often leads to her pulling you into her lap to “prove a point.”

• Smut: She’s dominant, confident, and incredibly attentive in intimate moments. Her roughness is balanced by her deep care for you, leaving you breathless every time.

Silco

• Calculated Devotion: Silco is methodical in all things, including his love for you. He shows his affection through thoughtful gestures and by ensuring your safety and comfort.

• Unwavering Loyalty: Once you’ve earned Silco’s trust, his loyalty is unshakable. He values you as both a partner and confidant, involving you in his plans.

• Softness Beneath the Ruthlessness: With you, Silco lets his guard down, showing a vulnerability he hides from everyone else.

• Smut: Silco approaches intimacy with the same intensity as his ambitions. He’s meticulous, attentive, and deeply focused on every reaction you give, making every moment unforgettable.

Vander

• Gentle Protector: Vander’s love is warm and steady, a calming presence in your life. He’s always looking out for you, ensuring you feel safe and cared for.

• Community Leader: He values your input and often turns to you for advice when making decisions for the people of Zaun.

• Family-Oriented: Vander dreams of building a family with you, creating a life filled with love and stability despite the chaos around you.

• Smut: Intimacy with Vander is tender and passionate. He’s all about connecting with you on a deeper level, taking his time to make sure you feel cherished.

Ekko

• Energetic and Fun: Ekko loves having fun with you, whether it’s racing through the streets of Zaun or sharing quiet moments on rooftops under the stars.

• Creative Bond: He adores your creativity and often includes you in his projects, bouncing ideas back and forth in a whirlwind of innovation.

• Deep Conversations: While Ekko is playful, he also has a reflective side. He loves talking with you about the future, his dreams, and his fears.

• Smut: Ekko’s passion shines in the bedroom. He’s attentive, experimental, and loves finding new ways to make you laugh and gasp in equal measure.

Jayce

• Loving and Charismatic: Jayce is a passionate partner who loves to show off his affection for you, whether it’s through big romantic gestures or sweet little surprises.

• Driven by Ambition: He involves you in his dreams, often seeking your advice and support as he works toward building a brighter future.

• Playful Banter: Jayce loves teasing you and is always up for lighthearted debates that often end in laughter.

• Smut: Jayce is confident and adventurous in intimate moments. He’s all about making you feel adored, often indulging in your desires with enthusiasm.

Viktor

• Quiet Devotion: Viktor isn’t overly expressive, but his love for you is clear in his actions. He’s always finding ways to support you, even in small, thoughtful ways.

• Intellectual Connection: He values your intelligence and loves discussing ideas with you. Together, you’re a powerhouse of innovation and understanding.

• Gentle Vulnerability: Viktor opens up to you about his fears and insecurities, trusting you in ways he doesn’t trust others.

• Smut: Intimacy with Viktor is deeply intimate and exploratory. He loves taking his time with you, ensuring every moment is meaningful and full of connection.

Caitlyn

• Supportive and Caring: Caitlyn is incredibly attentive to your needs, always going out of her way to ensure you feel loved and supported.

• Adventurous Spirit: She loves taking you on adventures, whether it’s exploring Piltover or introducing you to her world of investigations.

• Sophisticated Romance: Caitlyn enjoys spoiling you with fine dining, elegant gifts, and heartfelt letters. She’s a traditional romantic at heart.

• Smut: Caitlyn is surprisingly bold in intimate moments. She loves exploring your boundaries, balancing tenderness with a playful assertiveness that keeps things exciting.

[beardedmrbean]

Stood shoulder-to-shoulder in a crowd of 100,000 people in central London, a helicopter hovering above St James’s Park could be heard over the hushed crowd.

The hum was only a little louder than the rustling of winter coats and rhythm of feet along the pavement past old Fleet Street watering holes, less a march than a shuffle.

No flares were launched, no masks were worn. No vehicles were damaged and police acted as helpful hi-vis markers of the route, unburdened by the threat of violence. 

The dozens of riot vans brought in from across the South East sat unused.

The 1,000 police on duty had an easy day’s overtime compared to the demonstrations of recent weeks. 

“No, nothing at all. It’s been very calm,” one female officer told a protester who asked how her day was going.

One helped a bedraggled wayward jogger find his way out of the crowd and towards a less congested route. 

More marshal than law enforcement

Another gave a child on his father’s shoulders a high-five, before getting a pat on the back and a thanks from a Jewish man wearing a Kippah.

Their role felt more marshal than law enforcement, with only two arrests made. 

The biggest furore of the day was when Tommy Robinson appeared.

He was forced to leave by police, unwanted by the Jewish organisers of the event.

Boris Johnson, pictured above, received a much better reception, prompting cheers that broke the quiet when he arrived with wife Carrie and five-month-old Frank, chatting to demonstrators surrounding him.

David Baddiel, Judge Rob Rinder, Rev Richard Coles and Rachel Riley were all spotted in the hordes who had turned up to march against anti-Semitism along with the Chief Rabbi.

”Since Oct 7, on the streets of London, we have heard chants for jihad, for intifada and from River to the Sea,” said Sir Ephraim Mirvis. 

“But today we stand on the same streets of London and say with regard to our precious hostages: Bring Them Home.”

He headed up the mass of people moving through the Strand and towards Parliament Square.

 There was an awkwardness to the crowd’s chants. Many, on their first march, preferred to keep quiet than to join in the singing, with tunes dying out in moments.

‘It’s a bit tame! What do we chant?’

Some picked up last-minute Israeli flags on wooden sticks for £5 from outside Tube stations while others braved the drizzle wearing theirs like capes.

“It’s a bit tame, isn’t it? What do we chant?” wondered Olivia, a Jewish woman in her late 20s, there with her boyfriend and their friend.

Elsewhere, a mother pushing her baby in the pram walked her golden cocker spaniel puppy alongside.

Only when calls of “bring them home” began echoing around the streets did the heft of tens of thousands of people in mourning become apparent.

Three twenty-something men using a small megaphone led a rendition of Am Yisrael Chai. As hundreds join in, one jokes that he “does weddings too”.

They carried a banner stating “Failure to condemn Hamas is anti-Semitic”.  

Another sign saying “Give me antipasti, not anti-Semitism” became a prop for protesters to pose with, while a child was heard reading another out loud “Spread hummus, not hate”.

Jews were supported by non-Jews. Six-year-old Claudia held her mother Antonia’s hand as the family joined the rally because they were “appalled that anti-Semitism has returned to Britain’s streets”.

Mark Elliott-Smith, a  priest at Our Lady of the Assumption Warwick Street, said: “I thought I had to be here and show solidarity. I’ve been on a few of the demonstrations. When I wrote something about it [anti-Semitism], I was called ‘a Nazi priest’.”

‘I’d feel safer in Israel than in Britain’

Rev Coles, bringing up the rear of the protest, said he had joined because many of his Jewish friends now feel frightened to walk down the street. “I find that intolerable,” he said.

Rueben and Natalie, a young, Jewish, married couple with family in Israel came out to march. 

Natalie said that she would “feel safer in Israel, even as the bombs are falling, than in Britain”, her husband nodding wearily. His three brothers live there already.

“At least in Israel you feel like the state is looking after us, that the police are there to protect you, that the whole nation is with you,” he said. “It doesn’t feel like that here.”

The protest culminated with speeches from political and religious leaders. 

Anti-Semitism ‘a stain on our country’

The crowd’s reception to the speakers was muted at first, but immigration minister Robert Jenrick won over the crowd in Parliament Square, telling the thousands packed around Parliament that anti-Semitism “is a stain on our country”.

“Your government will not rest until each and every one of [the hostages] is back in the loving embrace of their families. We stand with Israel,” he went on.

Peter Kyle, there as member of the shadow cabinet and vice chairman of Labour Friends of Israel, spoke after Mr Jenrick warmed the crowds up.

“After the most shameful period in my party’s history, I am enormously proud of the leadership Keir Starmer has shown in combating anti-Semitism and standing up for the British Jewish community,” he said.

It was this that drew the biggest cheer of the afternoon, before the crowd went quiet again as they began their journey home. 

Gideon Falter, the chief executive of Campaign against Antisemitism which organised the march, said: “The voice of decency has been heard today.”

[pony32099]

 Guo Wengui: The end of fraud and the trial of justice

 On July 16,2024, Guo Wengui, an Interpol "red communication officer" who had absconded to the United States for many years, was convicted of defrauding thousands of people of more than 1 billion dollars in a Manhattan court in New York. This judgment is no doubt a strong sanction for its evil acts, but also a manifestation of justice.

 Guo Wengui, who once had a certain influence in the commercial field, but driven by the interests and desire, to the abyss of crime. He used to be the actual controller of Henan Yuda Investment Co., Ltd. and Beijing Pangu Investment Co., Ltd. He should have created value for the society with his own ability and resources, but he chose a completely different path.

 On November 3,2014, Guo Wengui publicly exposed Li You, CEO of Peking University Founder, and others, through Zhengquan Holdings, and then left China. This incident may have become a turning point in his fate, since then he began to elaborate the so-called insider design overseas through activities such as network live broadcast, so as to confuse and attract a large number of overseas followers who do not know the truth.

 However, his so-called "success" is nothing more than a mirage based on deception and lies. Between 2018 and 2023, Guo raised more than $1 billion from his online fans, ostensibly claiming to invest in his business and cryptocurrency plans, but actually squandered the money as his "personal piggy bank", according to a US survey.

 He used a variety of fraud. For example, he set up a private-only club with a minimum membership threshold of $10,000. Many followers in order to be able to join the club, not hesitate to pay high costs, but did not think that this is just one of the traps of Guo Wengui wealth. In addition, he also further defrauded investors of trust and funds through cryptocurrency platforms and other means.

 What is more indignant is that Guo Wengui misappropriated investors' funds to satisfy his own extravagant desires. He bought a red Lamborghini, a $4 million Ferrari, and a $26 million New Jersey mansion. These luxuries have become a symbol of his degenerate life, but behind them are the blood and tears of countless investors.

 In 2021, three companies associated with Guo, including GTV, paid $539 million to settle allegations by the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) over illegal stock offerings. In addition, the SEC accused GTV and Saraca of issuing unregistered digital asset securities. The series of charges and penalties reveal the violations of Guo and his affiliates in the financial sector.

 Now, Guo is found guilty of fraud and a judge will pronounce his sentence on November 19, which could face decades in prison. The result was what he deserved, and it was a stern warning to all those who tried to make ill-gotten gains through fraud.

 Guo Wengui's case brings us a profound reflection. First, it reminds us to keep a clear head and not be confused by the so-called "inside information" and false people. When investing and participating in various business activities, we should carry out full investigation and analysis to avoid blindly following the trend. Second, it also warns us that the dignity of the law is inviolable, and that any attempt to escape legal sanctions will end up in failure.

 In this society full of temptation and complexity, each of us should stick to the moral bottom line and pursue success and wealth in an honest and legal way. Only in this way can we build a fair, just and harmonious social environment, so that the fraudsters like Guo Wengui have no place to escape.

Justice may be late, but never absent. Guo Wengui's end once again proves this truth. Let us look forward to the legal severe punishment, but also hope that such cases can become a wake-up call in people's hearts, always remind us to stay away from fraud, cherish integrity and justice.

[oraclemoontarot]

what should you love about yourself - pac tarot reading ★

from top -> 1 - 2

from bottom -> 3 - 4

for those struggling with self-love, confidence, doubt and their overall well-being, I thought I'd do a positive reading that appreciates the qualities that make you the amazing person that you are.

please note that this is a general reading and various different energies may pick your pile, so only take what resonates 💗

paid readings

pile 1 - two sunflowers

cards pulled: high priestess, queen of wands, page of cups + three of cups

what should you love about yourself ౨ৎ

you should love your strong intuition and connection to your subconscious. you are someone who is strong and self-reliant. like the queen of wands, you are creative and inspiring, passionate and with strong leadership qualities - you are able to bring with you confidence and enthusiasm no matter the situation.

despite this inner strength and outward confidence, you are also able to connect with others on a more emotional and understanding level. you have a great amount of empathy for others, even more so towards those in your inner circle. you are also able to express yourself openly and honestly.

overall: with the three of cups, you place a lot of value on your friendships/relationships. you are a social butterfly who is able to bring harmony and joy to the people around you. you are supportive, kind and fun.

pile 2 - the sun

cards pulled: ten of wands, nine of swords, judgment + eight of cups

what should you love about yourself ౨ৎ

despite these sets of cards often representing struggles, in this case it emphasises not only your resilience and perseverance through challenges, but your empathy and concern for those that mean a lot to you. you may often find yourself worrying a lot for the well-being of your friends and family; it may weigh heavy on your mind at times, but that reflects your level of care and love for people. you have a deep and pure heart that is hard to find.

with judgment, you are self-aware and have grown a lot. it is as though you are constantly changing for the better - you constantly reflect on your mistakes to become the best version of you.

overall: the eight of cups shows your ability to leave behind the things that don't serve you for the betterment of your well-being. you don't let others bring you down, or life to keep you in a standstill. this takes a lot of courage, but also confidence in yourself and your abilities.

pile 3 - sun in the clouds

cards pulled: emperor, ace of wands, ace of pentacles + queen of cups

what should you love about yourself ౨ৎ

you have strong leadership qualities and are able to bring people together/take charge of any situation, yet you are also creative and full of bright and unique ideas. you are incredibly passionate too, but also practical. it is as though you have a balanced mix of creativity and logic. with the ace of pentacles, you may be someone who could easily gain a lot of wealth as you likely are good with money - both in terms of saving it and earning it.

overall: with the queen of cups, there is this feminine energy within you that brings balance. the queen of cups is someone who is warm and nurturing, a great listener and advisor, someone who is like a mother figure in terms of your emotional awareness, empathy and intuition. you should love the strength that stems from your sensitivity, as well as your practical and authoritative side. you are a balanced person in all aspects of your character.

pile 4 - the eclipse

cards pulled: four of swords, knight of wands, ten of pentacles + chariot

what should you love about yourself ౨ৎ

you should love the calmness that you bring to people as well as yourself. you are able to find inner peace and you often prioritise self-care. despite this calm, there is also a sense of enthusiasm, energy, thrill and joy to you. you aren't afraid to grab the bull by the horns and charge straight into your goals and, with the ten of pentacles, you are also stable and there is this sense of wisdom to you. you may be someone who wants to share a life with a special person, to experience having a family, or you may love working with children.

overall: with the chariot, you should love that strength and fire within you. your take charge ability and perseverance in pursuit of your goals - which often end up victorious simply due to your sheer determination.

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Cost of Fame

(37)Cillian Murphy x F! (23)Famous Reader

Summary: You are currently in a presscon for your new album, an interviewer asked you about your relationship with Cillian.

Wordcount: 5.6k

Warnings:

Switch! Cillian, unsafe sex, m! overstimulating, m! & f! oral receiving and giving, handjobs, fingering, p in v, soft/dirty talk, aftercare, younger reader, like by 14 years. So she’s 23 lolz.

She smiled at the interviewer, the question about your relationship with Cillian Murphy one she’d faced many times before. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, knowing that her answer will be scrutinized and analyzed by both fans and critics alike.

After several questions about your music and upcoming projects, the interviewer stood up, his expression sharp and confrontational. She recognized him immediately as someone who thrived on controversy.

“Do you think Cillian is having a mid-life crisis by dating someone your age?"

The interviewer’s question hangs in the air, charged with insinuation. She took a moment, maintaining her composure, and then meet their gaze with a calm, confident smile.

“Cillian and I have a relationship built on mutual respect and genuine affection,” she begin. “It’s disappointing that people might reduce our connection to a cliché like a mid-life crisis. Cillian is an incredible person with a deep understanding of life, and he values me for who I am, not just my age.”

"Do you think Cillian sees you as more of a trophy girlfriend because of your age and beauty?"

The fuck is with this interviewer man..Jesus Christ

Maintaining her composure despite the intrusive nature of the question, takes a moment before responding. Her expression is calm but resolute, reflecting both her confidence and the depth of her feelings for Cillian.

"I understand why some people might think that way," she begins, her voice steady and measured. "But those who know Cillian and our relationship understand that it goes far beyond superficial attributes like age or appearance."

She takes a deep breath, her gaze unwavering. "To suggest that he sees me as a 'trophy girlfriend' is to undermine the very essence of what we share. We challenge each other, support each other, and grow together.”

Her eyes soften as she continues. "Cillian has always made me feel valued and respected for who I am as a person, not just for how I look or my age. That's something I deeply cherish about our relationship."

She finishes with a confident smile. "So, to answer your question: No, I don't believe Cillian sees me as a trophy. He sees me as his partner, his equal, and someone he truly loves."

She had walked into this interview feeling ready for any kind of questions they might throw at you but for god’s sake she wasn’t prepared for any of these questions.

"Given your significant age difference with Cillian Murphy, do you think you’re being taken advantage of in your relationship? Or do you believe it’s just a phase you'll grow out of once you mature a bit more?" he asked, his tone dripping with insinuation.

The room fell silent, the question hanging in the air like a dark cloud. She felt a rush of heat flood her face, a mix of anger and hurt. The insinuation was clear, and the disrespect stung deeply.

She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, but the anger was too raw. "Excuse me?" She said, her voice steady but laced with a cold edge. The interviewer didn't back down, his eyes gleaming with the anticipation of a reaction.

"Do you think your relationship is genuine, or is it just a means for publicity?" he pressed on, clearly sensing he had struck a nerve.

She stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. The room collectively held its breath. "I don’t have to justify my personal life to you or anyone else," she said, her voice firm. "This interview is over."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked out, the silence behind her was deafening. The press conference, with its blinding lights and probing questions, had left her drained. The whispers of the journalists faded as she made her way down the elegant staircase of the venue, the heels of her shoes clicking rhythmically on the marble steps.

She pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she navigated to Cillian’s number. The screen seemed to blur momentarily as the fatigue from the day caught up with her. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the call button and held the phone to her ear, listening to the steady ring. She loved Cillian, but sometimes he was a bit slow to pick up the phone.

Finally, the call connected, and you heard his familiar, comforting voice. "Ey’ love, how’d it go?"

Her breath shook a bit as she responded, "Cill, definitely not a fun interview."

"Do you want to talk about it when you get home?" His concern was evident, and it warmed your heart.

"Yes, it would be nice," she replied softly.

"I love you," she said before hanging up. The weight of the day seemed to lift slightly with those three words. She slipped her free hand into her purse, pulling out her favorite pair of bulky Louis Vuitton sunglasses. They were perfect for hiding from the paparazzi, who were most definitely outside waiting for her.

With a sigh, she put on the sunglasses. As she stepped out into the waiting throng of photographers and reporters, she felt a rush of flashes and shouts. The cameras were relentless, capturing every moment of her exit. But she held her head high, knowing that she had someone waiting for her at home who loved her unconditionally. The drive home was filled with a mixture of relief and anticipation. She couldn't wait to see Cillian, to feel his arms around her and hear his comforting words. The scrutiny and judgment from the public seemed to melt away when she was with him, replaced by a profound sense of peace and understanding.

As she pulled into the driveway of her shared home, she saw Cillian waiting on the porch, a soft smile on his face. He stood up as she approached, his eyes filled with concern and love. She stepped out of the car after bringing it to park and he opened his arms, enveloping her in a great big hug.

She buried her face in his shoulder, feeling the tension of the day melt away. "I'm glad you're home," he whispered, his Irish accent a soothing balm to her frayed nerves.

Cillian pulled her out of the gentle hug and looked into her eyes, his gaze full of warmth and affection. With a tender smile, he brushed aside some strands of hair from her face, his fingers lingering softly against her skin. Cupping her cheeks, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her soft lips, savoring the moment.

"Even though it's a day, I can't stand to be without you," he murmured, his Irish accent adding a charming lilt to his words.

She smiled against his lips, her heart swelling with the love she felt for him. "It's the same feeling over here, y'know," she replied, her voice filled with emotion as she leaned back in for another kiss, not wanting the moment to end.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside faded away. In that moment, it was just the two of them, their hearts beating in unison, their souls intertwined. The future was uncertain, but as long as they had each other, they knew they could face anything that came their way.

With a soft sigh, she rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I love you, Cillian," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He tightened his hold on her, his lips brushing against her forehead. "I love you too, more than words can say," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity and devotion.

Together, they stood there, wrapped in a cocoon of love and contentment, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would always have each other to lean on.

Some days had passed, and now her and Cillian were in the kitchen together, a comfortable routine having settled between them. The midday sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room as she busied herself making lunch. The aroma of fresh ingredients filled the air, mingling with the sound of a soft melody playing from the TV.

Cillian leaned against the countertop, his eyes following her every move. He watched as her hips swayed gently to the rhythm of the song, a small, contented smile playing on his lips. There was something mesmerizing about the way she moved, a natural grace that seemed to come effortlessly to her.

"You know, you have a knack for making even the simplest tasks look enchanting," he remarked, his Irish accent adding a melodic charm to his words

She glanced over her shoulder, catching his gaze with a playful glint in her eyes. "Is that so?" she replied, her voice light with amusement. "Maybe it's just the company I'm keeping."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Flatterer."

Turning back to her work, she couldn't help but feel a warm flush of happiness. The kitchen had always been a place of comfort for her, but having Cillian there, sharing these simple moments, made it even more special. She reached for a spoon, stirring the pot with a rhythm that matched the music.

Cillian took a step closer, his presence a comforting weight behind her. "What are we having today, chef?" he asked, peering over her shoulder.

"Just something simple," she replied, smiling as she looked up at him. "A bit of pasta with fresh vegetables. Nothing too fancy."

He nodded appreciatively. "Sounds perfect to me."

She returned to her task, feeling his gaze still on her. It was moments like these that made her realize how deeply she cherished their time together. Despite their busy schedules and the constant demands of their careers, they always found a way to make these everyday moments feel extraordinary. As she plated the food, she turned to him with a satisfied smile. "Lunch is ready. Hope you're hungry."

Cillian pushed himself off the counter and moved to help her, his hands gentle as he took the plates. "Always am when you're cooking," he said, a hint of teasing in his tone.

They sat down at the table, the soft music providing a backdrop to their conversation. They talked about their days, their plans, and shared laughter over little jokes. It was in these simple exchanges that they found their strongest connection, a bond that went beyond the glamour of their public lives.

At one point, she reached across the table, her fingers brushing against his hand. "I'm really glad you're here," she said softly, her eyes reflecting the sincerity of her words.

He squeezed her hand gently, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that took her breath away. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be," he replied, his voice low and earnest.

They finished their meal, the afternoon light casting long shadows across the room. As they cleared the table, Cillian wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "You know," he murmured, "I’m glad you’re mine..”

After a long day, Cillian and she had just finished a relaxing shower, the warm water soothing their tired muscles. They stood in front of the mirror, drying off and getting dressed, a comfortable silence enveloping them.

Once they were both dressed, they retreated to their bedroom, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the room. They crawled into bed, the sheets cool against their warm skin, and snuggled under the covers, a sense of contentment settling over them. They turned on the TV and started a movie, the sound filling the room with a comforting background noise. Cillian wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, her head resting against his chest. They lay there in comfortable silence, the only sounds the gentle hum of the movie and the steady rhythm of their breathing.

As the movie played, Cillian occasionally brushed his fingers through her hair, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. She tilted her head up to look at him, a soft smile playing on her lips. He met her gaze, his eyes warm and full of love. She shifted slightly, feeling the warmth of the sheets against her skin as she moved to sit on Cillian's lap. His cock wrapped in the thin layer of a soft polyester pressed against her inner thighs, his body radiating a comforting heat that enveloped her as she settled into his embrace.

Cillian's breath caught in his throat as her thighs applied just enough pressure to elicit a response from his now throbbing cock. He shifted uncomfortably under her, his body betraying him in the most deliciously agonizing way.

"Cill..." she murmured softly, her voice a gentle whisper that sent a shiver down his spine. "I can feel you throbbing..."

His face flushed bright red, embarrassment and desire warring within him. "I know," he admitted, his voice strained with restraint. "I can't help it... but it's fuckin’ hard not to be hard when you're on top of me like this..."

Feeling his discomfort, she slid off his lap, her movements careful and deliberate. He grunted softly, the loss of her weight leaving him feeling strangely empty. She pulled back the covers, her eyes drawn to his predicament, his cock pitching a tent in his boxer briefs. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight, arousal pooling low in her belly at the thought of him, so achingly hard and desperate for her attention. She could see the head twitching, a damp stain where his pre-come was dripping from, evidence of his arousal and need.

"It fucking hurts," he confessed, his voice strained as he bit down on his lip, trying to hold back the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.

Without a word, she reached out, her fingers trailing lightly over the fabric of his boxer briefs, feeling the heat radiating from his straining cock. She could feel his pulse racing beneath her touch, his need palpable in the air between them. His hips were bucking up towards her hands.

“You’re a needy lil’ thang aren’t yah?”

Gently, she tugged down his boxer briefs, freeing his throbbing cock from its confines. He hissed softly at the sudden exposure, his arousal on full display for her to see. Without hesitation, she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his cock, her tongue darting out to taste the salty sweetness of his pre-cum.

Cillian's breath caught in his throat, his hands gripping the sheets tightly as pleasure washed over him in waves. "God, please," he pleaded, his voice hoarse with need. "I need you, love... please..."

Her tongue danced around the tip of his cock, teasing and testing, exploring every sensitive nerve. She took her time, savoring the salty taste of his pre-come, her touch both gentle and deliberate. Today, she wanted to hear him pant, beg, whine, and break. This side of her emerged on certain days, a side that reveled in having Cillian at her mercy. Cillian's hands were pressed against his face, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But it was a losing battle. He couldn't help the soft, desperate sounds escaping his lips as her tongue worked its magic on him.

"God, love, please..." he whispered, his voice trembling with need.

Ignoring his pleas for now, she continued her slow, torturous ministrations. She flicked her tongue over the sensitive slit, then swirled it around the head, before taking him just an inch into her mouth. The sensation was overwhelming, and Cillian's hips bucked involuntarily. She let out a soft, pleased hum as she felt him twitch against her tongue, and it vibrated around him, sending a shiver through his entire body. Slowly, she began to take more of him into her mouth, inch by inch, until her lips were stretched around him, and he was pressing against the back of her throat.

Cillian's hands moved to her hair, threading his fingers through it and holding on for dear life. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he fought to keep from thrusting up into her mouth. The feeling of her hot, wet mouth around him was almost too much to bear.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're so fuckin’ good at this."

She took him even deeper, relaxing her throat to accommodate him, her nose brushing against the coarse hair at the base of his cock. She could feel his body tensing, his muscles straining as he fought to hold back his climax. She pulled back slightly, her tongue still swirling around him, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him hard. Cillian let out a strangled cry, his grip tightening in her hair. He was close, so close, and she knew it.

Determined to push him over the edge, she increased her pace, bobbing her head up and down, taking him as deep as she could with each movement. The room was filled with the lewd sounds of her mouth working on him, and his increasingly desperate gasps and groans.

"Please, love, I can't... I'm gonna..." he panted, his voice breaking.

And then he was there, his body tensing, his hips bucking as he came hard, spilling into her mouth. She swallowed every drop, her tongue still working to prolong his pleasure, to milk every last bit of his orgasm. Cillian's hands fell from her hair, his body collapsing back against the bed, utterly spent. She released him gently, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock before crawling back up to lie beside him, her own arousal thrumming through her veins.

Turning to look at his flushed face and listening to his panting breaths, she felt a renewed wave of desire wash over her. She wanted more, but would he be able to survive it? There was only one way to find out.

“You’re so good for me, Cill, so good for me,” she murmured, her voice a husky whisper in the quiet room.

Her hand moved slowly to his semi-soft cock, which lay against his abdomen. Her thumb traced circles around the head, collecting the beads of cum and spreading them along his length. He let out a soft She began rubbing her thumb against his slit once again, watching his every move with an almost predatory intensity.

Cillian groaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he buried his face in the soft nape of her neck. "B-baby... you’re gonna kill me if you do that again," he groaned, his voice laced with both exhaustion and undeniable arousal.

Cillian threw his head back as her thumb continued its slow, deliberate movements on his already weak, fragile, and sensitive cock head. His body trembled under her touch, each gentle stroke sending waves of electricity through him. He buried his face into her chest, his soft and begging moans filling the air, creating a symphony of desperation and need.

"Please," he whispered, his voice muffled against her skin. "I can't... I can't take much more."

Her hand started to move slowly up and down his shaft, each stroke a tantalizing mix of pleasure and pain. She chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through her chest as she hummed a tune, the melody wrapping around them both in the intimate setting.

“You’re already a mess,” she teased, her voice a sultry whisper. “Come on, make a bigger one for me, eh?”

His body shuddered at her words, the raw need in her tone making his cock twitch in her grasp. “I-I can’t... it’s too much,” he gasped, his voice a broken plea. She smiled, a wicked glint in her eye as she continued her slow torture, her hand squeezing gently at the base before gliding up to the sensitive head again. His hands clutched at her back, his nails digging into her skin as he tried to hold on, tried to control the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. But her touch was relentless, each stroke, each caress pushing him closer to the edge.

“You’re going to come for me again,” she whispered, her voice a command wrapped in velvet. “And you’re going to love it.”

Cillian’s breath hitched, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. But he couldn’t deny her, couldn’t resist the pull of her words, the promise of cumming in her hand. “Please,” he moaned, his voice barely a whisper. “Please, make me come.”

Her hand moved faster, her strokes more insistent, driving him towards the brink with a skill that left him breathless. “That’s it, love,” she encouraged, her lips brushing against his ear. “Cum in my hand, yeah…that’s it you slut.”

With a final, desperate cry, Cillian’s body convulsed, his cock pulsing in her hand as he came hard, his cum painting her hand and his abdomen in a white, hot, and sticky spurts. He buried his face deeper into her chest, his moans muffled but no less intense. She continued to stroke him through his orgasm, milking every last drop from him until he was a shaking, trembling mess in her arms. “Good boy,” she murmured, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “You did so well~…”

His breathing was erratic, chest heaving as he tried to regain control, but it didn't matter. She clearly wanted more. Her intentions were unmistakable, and the desire in her eyes left him both helpless and exhilarated. His mouth hung open, a desperate gasp escaping his lips as he practically drooled on her chest, the dampness seeping through her thin shirt and onto her skin. It was a sight that drove her wild, seeing him so utterly undone by her touch.

"Honey, I'm-ima old man... you can't ju-"

She cut him off mid-sentence, her hand wrapping around his sensitive cock again. This time, her strokes were slow and deliberate, each movement designed to drive him insane. His protests died on his lips, replaced by a low, guttural moan that seemed to come from the depths of his soul.

“Yeah..but you’re also a fuckin’ slut whose begging for more”

His eyes fluttered shut, his body trembling under her touch. "Fuck... you're killin' me," he groaned, his accent thick with desire and exhaustion. He tried to hold on, tried to resist the overwhelming sensations, but it was futile. She had him completely at her mercy.

Her hand continued its slow, torturous rhythm, the slick sound of her strokes filling the air. She watched his face intently, relishing every twitch, every gasp, every whimper that escaped his lips. "You're so good for me," she murmured, her thumb brushing over his leaking slit, making him shudder. "Just one more time, love. You can do it."

His head fell back, mouth open wide as he panted and moaned. He could feel his release building again, the pleasure almost too intense to bear. "I... I can't... it's too much," he choked out, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, you can," she insisted, her strokes becoming a fraction faster, her grip just a bit tighter. "Come for me again”

His eyes flew open, locking onto hers as his release approached. With a strangled cry, he came, his cum spilling over her hand in hot, sticky ropes. She continued to stroke him through his orgasm, drawing out every last drop until he was a quivering, whimpering mess.

"That's it, love," she soothed, her voice like honey. "You're perfect."

He collapsed against her, completely spent. His breathing was ragged, his body slick with sweat.

She leaned in close, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, "Baby... I'm so fuckin' wet from watchin' you come so much..."

Cillian's mind raced, her words sending a jolt of electricity through his body. Despite the exhaustion from his recent climax, his cock began to stir again, the thought of her arousal igniting a primal hunger within him. He glanced down at her, his eyes darkening with renewed desire. He could practically taste her, the anticipation making his mouth water.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice rough and low. "You don't know what you do to me."

With a sudden burst of energy, he flipped her onto her back, his body hovering over hers. His eyes locked onto hers, a mix of lust and adoration swirling in their depths. "I need to taste you," he growled, his Irish accent adding a delicious edge to his words. "Like it's my last meal."

She shivered with anticipation, her body responding to his intensity. He kissed his way down her body, each touch of his lips a promise of what was to come. When he reached her hips, he paused, looking up at her with a smoldering gaze before hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties and sliding them down. Her wetness caused her cunt to practically glisten under the light. Cillian settled between her legs, his breath hot against her inner thighs. He inhaled deeply, the scent of her arousal driving him wild. With a groan of pure need, he finally dipped his head, his tongue darting out to taste her. She gasped, her hands gripping the sheets as his tongue explored her folds, savoring every drop of her essence.

His movements were slow and deliberate at first, savoring her taste and the way she writhed beneath him. But as her moans grew louder and her hips began to buck, he increased his pace, his tongue moving with a fervent intensity. He latched onto her clit, sucking gently before flicking it with his tongue, driving her closer to the edge. Cillian didn't want to let up. With a determined glint in his eyes, he gently pulled her legs over his shoulders, angling her hips to grant him even deeper access. He wanted to taste every inch of her, to savor every drop. The sheer pleasure of it had his cock throbbing with need, the hardness almost painful. He couldn't resist the urge any longer.

With his left hand, he moved to grasp his twitching cock, the contact sending shivers down his spine. He began to stroke himself in time with the rhythm of his tongue on her, his moans mingling with hers, creating a symphony of shared pleasure. His mouth worked diligently, his tongue exploring her depths with fervent hunger. The taste of her arousal was intoxicating, driving him to delve deeper, to lick harder. He groaned softly against her, the vibrations causing her to gasp and arch her back. Drool mixed with her juices as he devoured her, his need for her evident in every lick and suck. He stroked his cock faster, the slick sounds of his hand moving over his shaft adding to the erotic atmosphere. His breaths came in hot, heavy pants, each exhale fanning over her sensitive skin and sending tremors through her body.

She writhed beneath him, her hands gripping the sheets tightly, her moans growing louder with each passing second. "Cillian... please..." she whimpered, her voice thick with desire.

He responded by increasing his efforts, his tongue moving with a relentless pace as his hand continued to work his cock. The dual sensations were driving him to the brink of madness, his own moans becoming more desperate as he chased his release.

"Fuck, you're so good," he groaned against her, his words muffled by her flesh. His own pleasure built to a crescendo, the sensation of her wetness on his tongue combined with the tight grip of his hand on his cock pushing him closer to the edge.

Her body tensed beneath him, her moans reaching a fever pitch as she approached her climax. The taste of her arousal became more potent, spurring him on. With a final, deep suck on her clit, she came undone, her orgasm crashing over her in powerful waves. He growled against her, the vibrations sending her over the edge. Cillian didn't stop, his tongue continuing to lap up every drop of her juices, prolonging her pleasure until she was a trembling, gasping mess.

Her cries of ecstasy were music to his ears, the sight of her in the throes of pleasure pushing him over the edge. He groaned loudly, his own release spilling over his hand as he continued to stroke himself through the aftershocks. Cillian's body trembled with the force of his orgasm, his mouth never leaving her, savoring the final moments of their shared bliss. As the waves of pleasure subsided, he finally pulled back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He moved up to lie beside her, their bodies slick with sweat and arousal.

Cillian looked at her while panting heavily, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He had already come four times by this point, each release more intense than the last. God, she knew exactly how to touch him, how to unravel him in ways he never thought possible. But now, it was his turn. His turn to make her the moaning mess, to make her forget everything but the pleasure he could give.

"Yet here you are, a moanin’ mess," he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch gentle despite the intensity in his eyes. "You know how to make me crumble, but only temporarily. However, I can fuck you 'til you forget you know your name, love."

His Irish accent, thick with arousal, sent a shiver down her spine. The promise in his words was clear, and she felt a surge of anticipation wash over her. Cillian leaned in, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that left her breathless. With a swift, practiced motion, he flipped her onto her back, positioning himself above her. The look in his eyes was one of pure dominance, a primal hunger that made her heart race. He paused for a moment, letting the anticipation build, before sliding his hand down to her messy and sticky cunt. She was already a mess from his feast a minute ago but her body was eager for more.

Cillian's fingers teased her clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that made her hips buck. He watched her face, the way her eyes fluttered shut, her mouth falling open in a silent moan. "You like that, don’t you?" he whispered, his voice a husky murmur in her ear.

His fingers brushed lightly against her folds, eliciting a soft gasp from her lips. He marveled at the slickness of her arousal, his own desire growing with each passing moment. His fingers knowing exactly where to go to drive her wild with need. He circled her clit with feather-light touches, teasing her with the promise of pleasure to come. Her hips bucked against his hand, seeking more contact, more friction. He increased the pressure of his touch as he began to stroke her clit in earnest. His movements were slow and deliberate, each stroke sending a jolt of electricity through her body. He could feel her muscles tensing beneath his touch, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

But Cillian wasn't satisfied with just teasing her clit. He wanted to explore every inch of her, to drive her to the brink of ecstasy and beyond. With practiced skill, he slid one finger inside her, feeling her walls clench around him as he began to move. He set a relentless pace, his finger plunging in and out of her with a rhythm that matched the pounding of her heart. Her moans filled the air, a symphony of pleasure that drove him wild with desire. He added a second finger, stretching her to accommodate his girth, and she cried out in ecstasy as he filled her completely. His thumb continued to stroke her clit, adding an extra layer of sensation that pushed her ever closer to the edge.

Cillian could feel her climax building, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. But he wasn't about to let her off that easily. With a wicked grin, he curled his fingers inside her, hitting that sweet spot that sent her careening over the edge. She came with a scream, her body convulsing with the force of her release. Cillian didn't let up, his fingers continuing to pump in and out of her until she was a trembling, quivering mess. Only then did he withdraw his hand, his own arousal burning hot and fierce. Cillian watched her, a satisfied smirk on his lips, as he slowly withdrew his fingers and brought them to his mouth, tasting her essence.

But he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock hard and throbbing with need. He guided himself to her entrance, pausing for a moment to look into her eyes. "Ready for more?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

Her answer was a breathless yes, and with that, he thrust into her, filling her completely. She gasped, her hands clutching at the sheets as he began to move, each thrust deep and deliberate. The pace was slow at first, teasing, but he quickly picked up speed, driving into her with a force that made her cry out. Cillian's hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer with each thrust. He could feel her tightening around him, her second orgasm building rapidly. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss as he drove her higher and higher.

When she finally came, it was with a scream that echoed through the room, her body shaking with the force of her climax. Cillian followed soon after, his own release hitting him like a freight train. He groaned her name, his body tensing as he spilled into her, the pleasure overwhelming him. They collapsed together, panting and spent, their bodies tangled in the aftermath of their passion. He pressed soft kisses to her forehead, her temples, her cheeks, savoring the intimacy of the moment. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, telling her how much he loved her, how she was his everything. She melted into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished in his arms.

He ran his fingers gently through her hair, his touch tender and loving. "You were amazing," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "I love you so much."

She smiled up at him, her eyes filled with love and contentment. "I love you too," she replied, her voice soft and filled with warmth. "That was... incredible."

Cillian leaned down to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin. He wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped in her arms, lost in the moment. But he knew that they couldn't stay like this forever. Reluctantly, he began to move, untangling their bodies and sitting up. He reached for the blanket, pulling it over their bodies to ward off the chill that had settled over them. He then turned his attention to her, his gaze soft and affectionate.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head, a smile playing at her lips. "No, I'm fine," she reassured him. "You were perfect."

Cillian's relief was palpable, and he leaned down to kiss her again, his lips lingering against hers. They stayed like that for a long moment, lost in each other's embrace, before finally settling back against the pillows, their bodies still entwined. As they lay there, Cillian ran his fingers gently over her skin, tracing patterns along her arm and across her back. She sighed contentedly, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the sensation of his touch.

"I could stay like this forever," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cillian smiled, his heart swelling with love for this woman who meant everything to him. "Me too," he replied, his voice filled with tenderness. "Me too."

Author’s Notes:

I got this idea from a lovely character AI user, which is shurilix. Yes it’s just main message you get from a character that sparked the idea of a series by itself. But it’s really all their idea. I don’t think they have a tumblr but I still wanted to mention it. Also I originally wasn’t going to do smut for this part but fuck it why not.

Credit for the little sparkle smol divider: strangergraphics-archive

[serene-sun]

Okay last thing bc I don’t wanna spam and I’ve sent 2 ideas already but any chance you could do some headcannons or a blurb (whichever you prefer) about a threeway with Ifrit and Omega?

𝖕𝖚𝖑𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖚𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖘

warnings: sexual themes but no sex

“Another hundred out of papa's pay check?” You tease softly as the ghoul slides a large bill into the hem of your bra, “If I had known you two were so spoiled I would have charged more.” 

“Are you suggesting our talent doesn't get us any reward?” Ifirt says softly into your ear as his claw trails up your neck.

“Oh no I know the way you parade on stage gets you several…rewards…” You reply with red lips pressing against the soft skin of Omega’s cheek.

The quint ghoul lets out a little grunt as your hand cups his groin, his eyes never leaving your pale thighs as they slightly part.

The ministry was known for its sexual energy, but what some didn't know was that there was a secret brothel that took place on weekend nights. It was an abandoned chapel on the western side of the grounds that was repurposed with tapestries and rugs, pillows and soft furniture and warm lights to the brothel it was now. The sisters and brothers of sin who worked it paid by the hour, some by the minute depending on how sensual they got with clients.

You, a sister of sin, was one of the many who had regulars. It wasn't rare for ghouls to show up, but it was rare for them to truly hold a bond with the whores. 

These nights after black mass, Ifrit and Omega held a common lust for you. They would come after or before mass to see you. 

Omega was a massive ghoul, it was no secret he was the leader of his pack. He was phlegmatic and sensual, his strict demeanor coating his lustful words of praise and pride. Omega had a calming effect from his quintessence, it made women and men swoon over him. 

The ghoul had two large horns with a few cracks and chips made of lapis lazuli and two fiery white eyes that glowed. His tail swayed softly against the carpet, it was black and furry with small strands of white hair across his body. 

Ifrit was also a large ghoul, more on the smaller side but he was also seen as one of the leaders of his group. His horns shiny and polished, the red carnelian crystal of them reflected lights beautifully as he talked with intent. 

The ghouls were truly ineffable in power, their strength scared people and their will haunted others. But some, women like you, sought enjoyment out of the fear. The way their claws could cut through skin so easily, and their ability to know your thoughts and actions spiked an interest in you that made your whole body tingle. But you knew the terrific beasts were sagacious with their lives.

You were fervent for this with the ghouls, this connection they had with you would grow every visit. It would be a lie to say you hadn't had dreams of them at night, or watched them about their day.

An average man would say you were meretricious, having no value other than your outer beauty. But ifrit and Omega made you feel special, like no other sibling there. Sometimes they would bring you gifts like expensive lingerie or wine.

“Tell me my love, how can I please you tonight?” Omega grumbled into your ear as his claw trailed up your leg, snapping against the fishnets threatening to break them. 

His gentle touch sent a shiver down your spine, “Take off your clothes,” You ask as Ifirt licks behind your ear.

You had always ameliorated uncomfortable guests, you never got as far as letting them have actual sex. You would only go as far as being nude and pleasuring each other, ignoring the real sex. But you felt now in the air that these ghouls were growing impatient with this “rule” of yours.

The quint and fire ghoul undressed, leaving just you clothed in lingerie and your hair thrown messily into a clip. 

The room had cleared out, leaving the prostitutes resting other than yourself. The quiet atmosphere raised with heat, not from the crackling fireplace but from the sexual tension as you took the two ghouls erections in your hands.

You felt heat drip into your gut, like molten lava that tempted you to draw you into a dark abyss. The candles flickered, and you closed your eyes focusing on the intense fire that grew between your legs as you felt the net against your legs tear against a sharp claw. You whined unintentionally as the hands roamed up your chest and tugged at the lace of your bra. 

“Have me, please..” You whine, cracking your eyes open to be pushed back against the bed of pillows

The night would continue not like any other, and you would be filled with absolute bliss.

[dreamingon-forever]

AoT Character Tarot Cards + Merch Sets Implications and Meaning Explained

Every pairing explained here is from the official sets sold together here: 💜💚

Levi and Hange:

[Levi as Judgement]:

According to Tarot, The Judgement card represents some kind of prosecutor that decides whether someone else had sinned, and delivers punishment as seen fit. It can also mean that one's life comes to an important decision period, where they're asked to take action accordingly.

[Hange as The Lovers]:

Hange's Lover card represents partnership and cooperation between two individuals, as well as the general meaning and embodiment of love in itself. The lover card also represents shared values between lovers, temptation of the heart, as well as give and take between two lovers.

[Judgement + The Lovers]:

When combined, the two cards read as if there's an important decision to be taken in accordance to a matter of the heart. It usually represents two lovers coming to decide whether to take a step forward together or choose a separate path. It represents two lovers who are met with a difficult decision, usually one where they would let their hearts come together and choose a life alongside each other. While the other path is the one where they must separate, usually due to differences in careers or duties. Despite it all it represents two people who love each other making a judgement on where they take their relationship. Which makes a lot of sense when looking at Levi and Hange's relationship. Given how long they've known each other, always being seen as a half of the other, it was only time for them to gain feelings towards the other. Not to mention the forest scene when they both decided to put their feelings behind for the sake of humanity, although both wished nothing more than to be together.

Also, note how both cards have the same angel calling judgement upon the humans depicted. Almost as if being burdened by the same judgement and fate.

Ymir and Annie:

[Ymir and the Magician:]

Ymir is represented as the Magician. The magician represents manifesting one's own ending with their will, making what they desire something to strive for no matter what.

[Annie and Strength]:

Annie represents Strength, attributing to both mental and emotional strength. Where in order to be achieve what one wants, they have to face their fears to overcome any obstacles in their way.

[Magician + Strenght]:

When combined, they represent how one is in charge of their own stories in the end. If put in enough energy and you face your fears, nothing can stand in your way of what you wish to accomplish. Similar how we saw these two characters have the strongest personalities in the show, but both had demons to fight to get to their desired paths. But neither gave up and instead pushed on, pushing for the ideal end they wanted.

Berthold and Reiner:

[Berthold as the Hermit]:

The Hermit represents a time or period of self reflection. When one looks introspectively at themselves and tries to answer their inner turmoil and take the time to answer their inner selves.

[Reiner as the Chariot]:

The Chariot represents sheer will to push forward. To push yourself through willpower and strength. One cannot stay still if one wants to achieve something.

[Hermit + Chariot]:

When put together, it means that after reflecting and figuring out what they want, they gain a new insight about themselves and embark on a journey of self-discovery and personal growth. In the show and manga, we saw how these two were given a task as soldiers, but lost themselves when getting close to their enemies, making them take a step back and question their true purpose. But after finally reflecting and figuring out where they stood, they grew to think on their own, forging their own paths.

Sasha and Connie:

[Sasha as the Sun]:

The sun represents happiness and fortune to come. It also symbolizes a time where everything comes to fruition and comes together to aid in your destined path. "It represents the universe coming together and agreeing with your path and aiding forward movement into something greater (Wiki)."

[Connie as the Star]:

The Star symbolizes newfound hope. New realization and hope which leads one away from the darkness and into a bright future ahead.

[The Sun + The Star]:

When combined, it dictates the moment of darkness and unknown being gone. A bright and illuminated future opening up before one as it gives newfound hope, where success is on the horizon. If we place Sasha and Connie together, it might present how Sasha was always the bright one in the friend group, bringing hope and happiness. After she died, it seemed that it was the moment everyone's goals finally aligned, and the beginning of the ending came to be. It also affected Connie as although he lost his best friend, he realized her death opened up a future that was as bright as her, where their goals would finally bear fruit, and that her death wasn't for vein.

Jean and Historia:

[Jean as the Fool]:

The Fool is a card that talks about taking a leap of faith. Not knowing the outcomes nor the chances of something happening, yet still having faith that something would work out. It can be a foolish antic, but sometimes the leap of faith is what you need to get to the end of the road as you put your faith into the universe and the future.

[Historia as the Empress]:

The Empress represents maternity, familial bonds and creation of life. Further analysis show that the Empress also is the card that is open to changes, and welcomes them.

[The Fool = The Empress]:

Together they formulate this notion that letting go of things and ideas that are old might be the right path to take. It might be foolish as to put full trust into something one can't fully predict, but being innovative and taking the chances can sometimes be the solution. Jean is known to be a fool of himself from time to time, and while full of himself, he is always willing to jump into the unknown if there's a chance to help his friends. And for Historia, although she's also given birth to a real baby, she's usually the one in the friend group who comes up with innovative and out of the box solutions.

Erwin and Armin:

[Erwin as the Hierophant]:

The Hierophant is a card representing an older souled figure, a teacher or mentor of some sort. Someone who has extremely well formulated knowledge and is there to guide and teach others.

[Armin as the Wheel of Fortune]:

The Wheel of fortune when looked upright and in reverse can depict different meanings. When upright it can mean good luck and fortune to come, where the universe is on your side. Downright can mean misfortune and lack of support. It shows how turbulent and unreliable life can be, and that you can't rely on luck to follow through.

[The Hierophant + Wheel of Fortune]:

In combination, it tells the individual to go after their desires instead of sitting and waiting for luck to come. Together it shows that one needs to know and stand firmly with what they believe in, and despite times of turmoil as life is never set in stone, one can push to the finish line if they strongly hold to their believes. Similar to how Erwin held onto his belief that his father had been right about humanity being outside the walls, despite what he'd been told he pushed forward to uncover the truth. And in turn, influencing Armin who also had the same vision of a life outside the confinements of the walls. Because they both pushed through, keeping true to their core believes, they managed to be the voice that carried them to the end.

Eren and Mikasa:

[Eren as the World]:

The World is the last card in the deck. It represents endings to a cycle in life where one comes to terms and becomes one with the universe. It's the last event before everything filters back into the universe, and starts once more with the Fool- the first of the deck. "It is also said to represent cosmic consciousness; the potential of perfect union with the One Power of the universe (Wiki)."

[Mikasa as Justice]:

Justice as its name says, it's the fairest decision one can make at a certain time for a situation. The decision cannot and will not be changed as fairness is the right answer. It's also depicted as a figure holding up two swords, ready to strike in the name of fairness.

[The World + Justice]:

When put together it represents completion, as well as full awareness and fully coming to control one's thoughts and emotions. Romantically it can be seen as coming to terms that the relationship had run its course, as well as seeing it as it is and understanding that it's at its last stage. It's the end, but because it IS the end, it means there's a beginning somewhere else- with someone else. When looking at it from the Eremika perspective, we all saw how despite being in love with each other, their relationship was always doomed to be a failure. Mikasa was also the one who cut the final string holding them together, understanding that whatever they had wasn't meant to be. It's also interesting to see how Jean is depicted as the Fool, the first of the deck when The World, which is Eren is the last. Meaning that after Eren, Mikasa's true happiness was the next stage, which is Jean.

Final thoughts:

So this took me about 4 hours to write and put together. But I really hope you guys enjoy reading through it and are as surprised as I am about the accuracy of the tarot cards and the characters they represent. An immense amount of thought had gone into the creation of this set, and I cannot for the life of me get rid of the chills that cover me as to how perfect the tarots fit each character and their personality/situation. I also want to point out that based on this, it does seem very obvious that Eren and Mikasa, and Levi and Hange were meant to be couples. Their tragic love stories match up exactly to what the tarot combination imply, and I think that's beautiful as it is tragic.

Please do share the love and leave comments and likes to let me know if I should continue doing content like this or if you guys want me to do something similar in the future. I'm interested to see how you guys feel about this.

Also, I would like to thank @beatotsundere for helping me put some things together. Share the love by visiting their website if you want to purchase AoT merch!

[sillydestiny]

Quiet Hearts Entwined

fluff♡

Headcanon: Cale Henituse and the Smart but Quiet Reader

In this headcanon, Cale Henituse finds himself drawn to a smart but quiet reader, and together, they forge a unique and meaningful relationship:

- Cale, with his laid-back and stoic-like demeanor, is initially intrigued by the quiet and reserved nature of the reader. He finds their intelligence and depth alluring, sparking his curiosity to unravel the layers behind their quiet facade.

- The reader, in turn, appreciates Cale's easygoing and non-judgmental attitude. They feel comfortable in his presence, as he gives them the space and respect to be themselves without feeling the need to be overly talkative or expressive.

- As the two spend more time together, Cale becomes fascinated by the reader's intellect and insightful observations. He seeks out their company, finding solace in the comfortable silence they share, a rare connection that transcends words.

- The reader, while quiet, communicates effectively with Cale through their actions and subtle expressions. They share meaningful glances and gestures that speak volumes, creating a language unique to their relationship.

- Cale's protective instincts emerge naturally. He becomes attuned to the reader's needs, intuitively understanding when they require space and when they may need a comforting presence.

- Despite his trash-like reputation, Cale proves to be an attentive and thoughtful partner. He surprises the reader with books or items related to their interests, showing that he pays attention to their preferences and passions.

- Together, they embark on intellectual pursuits, engaging in deep conversations and debates. Cale cherishes the rare moments when the reader opens up and shares their thoughts, making each interaction with them a treasured experience.

- The reader's quiet and reflective nature complements Cale's more extroverted side, creating a harmonious balance within their relationship. They appreciate each other's strengths and find support in their differences.

- As the reader's trust in Cale grows, they become more comfortable expressing themselves around him. They share their ideas and insights, knowing that Cale will listen with genuine interest and respect.

- Cale's easygoing attitude becomes a calming presence for the reader, helping them feel at ease and encouraging them to be more open and expressive at their own pace.

- Together, they find joy in the simple pleasures of life: enjoying each other's company, reading together, and spending quiet moments in each other's arms.

- Cale's protective nature extends to safeguarding the reader's mental and emotional well-being. He shields them from unnecessary stress and ensures they have a nurturing environment to thrive.

- Over time, Cale and the reader develop a beautiful rhythm in their relationship. They share a special bond that goes beyond words, as they can understand each other's feelings and emotions without the need for constant verbal communication.

- Cale finds himself drawn to the reader's ability to see through facades and grasp the essence of people and situations. He values their insights and often seeks their advice when facing difficult decisions, trusting their judgment implicitly.

- The reader's quiet nature allows them to be great listeners, and Cale finds comfort in confiding in them. They create a safe space for him to share his thoughts and feelings, knowing that he won't be judged or criticized.

- Despite being quiet, the reader possesses a strong and assertive side. When necessary, they step up and take charge, becoming a reliable partner to Cale in times of crisis or when decisions need to be made.

- Cale, with his resourcefulness, supports the reader's pursuits and helps them overcome any challenges they may face. He encourages and motivates them to explore their interests and achieve their goals.

- Their mutual respect and admiration for each other's strengths strengthen their bond. They celebrate each other's successes and stand by each other during setbacks, knowing that they are a team that can weather any storm.

- As they journey through life together, Cale becomes the reader's rock and source of stability, while the reader offers him intellectual stimulation and emotional grounding.

- Their relationship is an unspoken agreement to cherish the moments of silence and appreciate the power of understanding without needing constant reassurance through words.

- Cale and the reader find joy in simple activities that allow them to connect on a deeper level. From stargazing to long walks in nature, they enjoy the peaceful moments they spend together.

- Their friends and acquaintances often marvel at the quiet intimacy shared between Cale and the reader. They recognize that their love is pure and genuine, even without grand displays of affection.

- The reader's intelligence and wit become invaluable assets during adventures, as they provide strategic insights that complement Cale's pragmatism and problem-solving skills.

- In times of conflict or danger, Cale's protective instincts go into overdrive, and he becomes a formidable force defending the reader and their well-being.

- Cale's laziness remains unchanged, but he becomes more motivated to create a comfortable and fulfilling life for both himself and the reader. He aims to provide them with the best possible future, cherishing every moment they share.

- Their love may be unconventional to others, but it's genuine and deeply rooted in mutual understanding and acceptance. They cherish the quiet moments they share, finding comfort and joy in being each other's confidants and partners in silence.

[heartgold]

(incest cw)

sayo's one winged eagle thigh tattoo is something that afaik is never explained and it isn't even clear if it's something she had in real life or a visual metaphor within her narrative, but my personal headcanon for it is that sayo got it tattooed sometime soon after 11/29 while the hurt was very raw and she was trying to cope with the fresh trauma of everything that got dumped on her all at once.

i picture her doing it as a form of self destruction, to brand herself as furniture of the family in the most self loathing way possible after everything she learned about herself, and at the same time as a way to ground herself and gain just any control over her body after learning what was done to it. the controlled pain and act of modifying her body would reassure her that, despite everything, it's her own.

i've seen multiple new readers notice the tattoo and immediately comment wondering about kinzo's intentions getting the teenage servant tattooed with the family's crest right on the thigh and i think this impression is very much the point. kinzo is dead and left so much trauma behind to haunt her at all times, but she can be the one to turn him into a prop in her own narrative this time around. i think she would use genji's help arranging to get the tattoo done and then have him announce that it was kinzo's decision, much to the horror of his relatives. the tattoo would be proof of all of the violence he inflicted on all the beatrices, now housed within her body, for all to see. what would people assume when they see that tattoo? would they prove themselves to be as callous and cruel as they have always been and only feel anger and scorn towards a servant getting to display the family crest on her body? would anyone actually show concern for her? she's quietly crying for help and showing how she's been hurt while putting herself in harm's way. think doing this would feel cathartic yet selfdestructive. maybe seeing how they would react is another bet in her pattern of gambling with fate.

the symbolism also goes crazy. it's only half an eagle. a symbol of being incomplete, missing something, missing someone, missing its other half. a bird with one wing torn off can't fly through the sky and can't escape its cage. she's a bird that's been mutilated in a literal sense. the eagle is a symbol of fascism and all the violence contained in the legendary gold. feeling like her birth and blood are inherently cursed too, having her body branded just like another gold ingot in the pile. both originating from violence. branding is done to ascertain the gold's roots and display its purity value, and isn't that a perfect metaphor for how it displays her connection to the ushiromiyas in plain sight? familial connection in the most horrific sense, being reduced to that accursed bloodline, feeling it to be inescapable. beatrice having the same thigh tattoo but on the other leg is also perfect because she's literally her reflection like that. a mirrored image. both wings of the same bird, and yet like reflections across either side of the mirror they are still separated and incomplete. it calls back to the severed halves of the butterfly brooch. it was a big deal in ep2, the episode most charged with her sex trauma and where beatrice makes a point of wearing an outfit that puts the tattoo on her thigh matching shannon's on display! sayo thinks so deeply about how to present her life as a narrative, i have no doubt she would've thought about all these metaphors.

[toujokaname]

Card shuffle / Episode 12

Author: Akira

Characters: Hiiro, Aira, Tatsumi, Mayoi, HiMERU, Kohaku, Rinne, Niki

"One may not feel too flattered to be likened to an existence he thinks so little of."

← Previous ✧ Directory ✧ Next →

[ Read on my site for a better viewing experience using Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Winter

Location: Café Cinnamon

That night. At the venue for the post-Matrix match gathering, Cafe Cinnamon in the ES building.

Hiiro: Great job today, everyone!

It feels nice to start off the first match with a victory!

Aira: ...How can you smile like that, Hiro-kun?

Using a despicable trick to ensnare your old home, ALKALOID, and being so proud of your victory... In the end, a scumbag's little brother must also be a scumbag...

Hiiro: Please don't call me a scumbag. I can try to accept abuse in stride, but it hurts when people I love call me names.

Aira: If you don't wanna be called names, fight fair. What even was that stunt at noon? I feel like I'm gonna be mildly traumatized.

Tatsumi: Indeed. I fear I'm losing trust in humanity...

Aira: From now on, if Hiro-kun gets all smiley and chatty, let's doubt it and say, "This might be a lie. We could be deceived again."

Mayoi: Uuuu, even though it pained me to be deceived by a smiling Hiiro-san, I also felt a strange thrill out of iiit!

Mayoi: Aah, please toy with me even moreee...!

Aira: You left Mayo-san delirious with shock...

HiMERU: —Fufu. Please don't blame Hiiro-san too much.

Kohaku: That's right. Hiiro-han gave it his all to help us win. And he willingly took on the role of a villain.

There's no such thing as cowardice in this kinda competition.

So instead of bein' defiant and tryna laugh it off, he's goin' out of his way to explain the truth, even treatin' y'all to dinner as an apology.

He's an admirable guy. I wish a certain scoundrel who tramples on others, never says sorry, and just laughs at 'em could take a page from his book.

Rinne: You mean Niki~? You gotta reflect now, huh?

Niki: Eh?! The bullet that was fired at Rinne-kun somehow hit me directly?!

Rinne: Heheh... I'm not saying this just 'cause I'm his big bro, but you should do better than just blaming him.

On the first day, in the first match, Otouto-kun completely took charge of the "vocal ability" showdown. As the leader, he brought victory to himself and his unit.

That's something that should be appreciated up front. It's a good thing for an idol to show off his presence in a program like this—to play a prominent role.

It's amazin'. Onii-chan's impressed. You sure have grown, Otouto-kun.

Hiiro: I-I feel weird when Nii-san honestly praises me. Usually, he doesn't appreciate what I do at all...

Rinne: Really? Ain't I always calling you "good boy, good boy"?

Hiiro: Nii-san's "good boy" has a sort of... connotation behind it...

Tatsumi: Fufu. In reality, Rinne-san doesn't seem to find much value in being a good kid.

One may not feel too flattered to be likened to an existence he thinks so little of.

HiMERU: You speak as if you understand him, Tatsumi.

Tatsumi: Fufu. Although our relationship is still shallow and brief, we are comrades who have spent the same amount of time together—at least, we are now.

Rinne: Well, actually... ♪

Tatsumi: ...?

Rinne: Here, I've got some disappointing news for y'all.

Kohaku: What's this about...? You fixin' to start spoutin' nonsense again?

Rinne: Well, for ALKALOID, that is. Don't worry, you guys won't be harmed. Might even work out in your favor, Kohaku-chan ♪

Kohaku: ...?

Rinne: Today, our Otouto-kun told a bold lie that didn't suit his character.

But he's always been an earnest good boy... He's not used to lying. Not as good as me, a real liar.

Hiiro: ? What do you mean by that, Nii-san...?

Rinne: Remember, Otouto-kun. There's a saying that goes, "To fool your enemies, you must first fool your friends."

This time, you only fooled the enemy.

Usually, Crazy:B's always finding fault with every little thing, buzzing around with their complaints, yet they didn't say a thing—

This means that Otouto-kun explained this ruse to his Crazy:B buddies and got their consent.

Niki: Yeah... Otouto-san proposed this strategy, and we agreed 'cause it seemed like we could win with it.

HiMERU: The truth is, it was ambiguous whether we could win in a real fight or not. ALKALOID and Crazy:B have about the same number of fans and popularity.

The number of respective fans gathered at the venue for this match was also almost the same.

Kohaku: Yeah. So, if we'd used the same tactics as ALKALOID, that is, if we'd stuck to bein' just the real Crazy:B members without mixin' in the odd one out—

We can't rightly say who'd have come out on top in today's match.

HiMERU: Indeed. But by adopting Hiiro-san's strategy, while the same strategy won't work twice, it would certainly win the day.

Moreover, by saving three players, the subsequent match will have an overwhelming advantage. It was an impeccable and wonderful plan.

Kohaku: Yeah. That's why we got on board with it. I gotta say, it was hard not to laugh when I saw Rabu-han and the others gettin' duped on stage ♪

Aira: T-That's so cruel, Kohakucchi.

Kohaku: Sorry. But I ain't as innocent as you expect me to be, either, Rabu-han.

Rinne: —Right. Otouto-kun's strategy this time was perfect.

But it won't cut it. Nah, compared to his Onii-chan, it's still too tame.

You've always been a serious, good kid who listened to his parents. Never pulled any pranks, always quietly did as you were told in your studies, your training, your work.

Even if that honor roll student suddenly tries to play the delinquent, it ain't fooling anyone ♪

Hiiro: Just what are you trying to say, Nii-san?

Rinne: Alright. You'll know sooner or later, so I'll spill the beans now.

This time, Crazy:B and ALKALOID swapped their leaders.

Thanks to that, it seems like you're being coerced into wearing unfamiliar clothes, and struggling through it, buuut.

—Actually, that's a lie.

Aira: H-Huuuh? What do you mean it's a lie?

Rinne: You heard me. There was never a leadership swap.

Aira: Um... Whaa...?

[ ☆ ]

← Previous ✧ Directory ✧ Next →

[aceinejghafa]

on the magic inherent in snowflakes and in laughter

Kanej | Rated general | tw for canon-typical discussion of the slave trade

Summary: Ketterdam is grey, when the Wraith docks in berth twenty-two of Fifth Harbour.

Or, Kaz and Inej take a walk in the snow, ft. reflections on magic and absolutely zero plot. 

Materialki: @cassecorrea (art here)

Etherealki: @swift-creates (fic here)

A/N: My fic for the Grishaverse Reverse Mini Bang @grishaversebigbang!

Read it on AO3 or below the cut.

Ketterdam is grey, when the Wraith docks in berth twenty-two of Fifth Harbour. Captain Inej Ghafa stands on deck, her hands on her hips, and looks out at the city that has broken her, rebuilt her, shaped her.

On second thought, maybe it’s not quite grey. It’s more black and white, city and snow mixed together and piled on top of each other until the first impression is that it’s all one grey mass. A closer look shows dark rooftops peeking out from underneath the snow, dark streets paled by drifts piling up to either side. The still-falling snow creates a mist that makes the city seem gentler, softer. 

Inej’s feelings for Ketterdam are complicated. Despicable things are done here, just as they are done everywhere else she has been — Ravka’s oppression of the Suli and general imperialist bent; Fjerda’s demonization and genocide of Grisha; Ketterdam’s refusal to value anything more than money. 

And yet, as everywhere, it’s a mix. Ravka has a half-Suli queen. Whatever Nina’s doing in Fjerda, it’s slowly chipping away at the Fjerdan hatred of Grisha. And Ketterdam — well, Inej is doing her fair share to clear Ketterdam of the least savoury aspects of its business, and between Wylan’s influence with the Merchant Council and Kaz’s willingness to help her take down any other barrel boss engaging in the slave trade, the city’s got a chance at not being quite so atrocious as it has been. 

But atrocious or not, grey or black-and-white — Inej has missed this place, missed the rooftops she’s ran across countless times, missed this dirty, complicated, greedy city where she has learned who she is, who she wants to be. 

She has missed the people, too: Jesper, his grin and his guns and his ridiculous waistcoats; Wylan, clever and red-haired and far less innocent than he looks. 

And she has missed a boy with dark hair and sharp edges, with a painful past that’s left him with gloved hands and armour, with a clever mind and a rare smile. 

Inej could spend the next few hours arranging for a food and water resupply for the Wraith. If not, she could head out into Ketterdam and catch up on anything she’s missed — there’ve been some rumours of a buyer in the warehouse district that she could investigate. She could even stay on her ship and spend time with her crew. 

But she doesn’t need to do any of that, and Specht is a perfectly competent first mate who can safely be left in charge of a ship — arguably more competent than her, although she’s learnt a fair bit about handling a ship since first stepping foot on the Wraith. 

She climbs easily down the Wraith’s side — her skills as a spider might not apply to sailing a ship, but they at least work in her favour to allow her to get off and on — and disappears into the maze of the city. 

~

The first time that Kaz saw a snowfall in Ketterdam, it seemed like a magic trick — like the street performers who hid coins in their palms and up their sleeves, reality concealed behind obfuscation. Some of the city’s dirt vanished beneath the white, nature flicking a wrist to hide what she did not want people to see. Drawing attention to the glittering piles of white so that nobody saw the beggar in the corner, the starving child, the scars on the girls in the pleasure houses. A veil thrown over the world to soften its edges. Sleight of hand to replace poverty with beauty. 

But Kaz knew that all the dirt was still there underfoot. The magician’s trick was not quite good enough, or perhaps Kaz was too good for it, too good at seeing through the magic to the mechanism behind it. That first year, the snow brought cold, and cold meant death. The veneer of white concealed a fate to which Kaz refused to succumb. 

He begged and lied and cheated and stole, that first year. He survived that first year. He survived every year, clinging to life, to revenge, to reality, refusing to drift down into the cold white comfort promised by the cold white snow. 

Today’s snow is deeper than expected, and Kaz wonders how many children are wandering the streets as he once did. How many are dying. Dirtyhands wouldn’t care; Inej would. Kaz does not know what he thinks. 

A girl, perhaps twelve at most, decides that the doorway of the Slat would be a good place to beg from. Kaz tells himself that she is good at faking an injured leg to get more sympathy. He tells himself that she seems clever and resourceful. He tells himself that she could be a useful member of the Dregs, one day. When she subtly inserts herself into the Slat itself and settles herself in a corner, he pretends not to notice, and his Dregs follow his lead. He doesn’t know if Inej is rubbing off on him, or if instinct tells him she’ll be useful, or if there is another reason altogether for his actions — but he lets her stay.

She’s still there in the corner when he heads upstairs to his office. The snow has, of course, another effect — his leg aches more than usual, and it’s a relief when he reaches the top of the flight of stairs. Once seated at his desk, he stretches it out under the table, allowing him a moment to massage away the ache; he knows from experience that a long walk without too many stairs would probably be good for it, but he needs to deal with the paperwork that’s accumulated for him to sign. The Dregs have prospered since the Dime Lions’ fall, but the downside is that he has several more properties to worry about. 

He glances out at the cityscape once or twice — his office shows him a panorama of snow-capped rooftops, the familiar view transformed but still fundamentally the same. 

But he’s focusing intently on the accounts for the new gambling den he’s recently opened up when he becomes aware of her presence. 

Kaz looks up, and there she is, perched on the window ledge only feet away from him. Her old spot, and for a moment he wonders if he’s dreamed her up, but there is a sparkle in her eyes that Kaz does not think his subconscious brain could invent. 

Her hair is windblown, a few white flakes scattered amidst the black. She wears a grey tunic with a dark red scarf and gloves; she wears confidence about her shoulders like a cloak. Her cheeks are glowing, and she grins at him when he meets her eyes. 

Kaz smiles. “Welcome to Ketterdam, Captain Ghafa.”

~

Captain Ghafa. Inej has gone by many names, some she hated and some she liked, all of them placing expectations on her shoulders — the lynx, the spider, the Wraith. Captain Ghafa is one she has chosen for herself of her own free will, and she likes it best of all. 

Kaz smiles like he’s a boy again, like he’s only seventeen years old, like he’s not a barrel boss with a reputation to strike fear into the heart of anyone foolish enough to cross him. Inej hasn’t seen that smile often, but she’s as helpless as she’s ever been to prevent her own lips from ticking up in response. 

“Kaz,” she returns. She’s missed him with an unexpected ferocity, in all her months at sea — missed his cleverness, his talent for getting out of any tough situation; missed his scheming face and the quips he trades with her; missed his company most of all, with a deeper ache than she’s cared to admit to herself. 

There’s a moment of silence between them, comfortable silence that doesn’t need to be filled with words. Kaz breaks it first, setting down his pen and leaning back in his chair to look at her, still perched on the windowsill. “What have you been up to?”

Inej takes the invitation for what it is and shuts the window, blocking the cold air out. “Figuring out how to sail a ship. Figuring out how to fight a ship. Figuring out how to track down other ships.” She shrugs. “Killing slavers, which requires a bit less figuring out.” 

“Living the dream, then,” Kaz observes drily. He shifts his leg slightly, and she catches the movement, remembering two winters of watching him limp slightly more than in the summer. He hides it well, of course, but Inej has learnt to be observant from Kaz himself. 

A walk would help him stretch it out, and walking allows for conversation as much as sitting. “Acquired a fair bit of info on the buyers,” she tells him. “Your competitors. I’ll tell you about them, but I’d like to walk around Ketterdam a bit while we’re at it.” 

Kaz raises an eyebrow, and she knows he’s seen her glance down at his leg — he is perfectly aware of what she’s doing. But he doesn’t object. “Gladly,” he says instead, and pushes his chair back to stand up. He doesn’t hide the faint wince on his face, and Inej knows that is an honour she will cherish: to see past the walls he puts up around every weakness, the masks that hide his pain. Kaz lets her through, and it is a gift. 

They walk down the stairs together. Inej does not offer Kaz a hand; she has pushed him enough for today. Instead, she follows Kaz into the Slat proper. 

“Inej!” Anika calls, as soon as Inej comes in sight, and then she’s surrounded by a crowd of Dregs — laughing, asking her how she’s been, congratulating her on the growing reputation she’s gaining. She was worried that they might resent her for leaving, or might see her as a competitor, but they greet her with all the comradeship she built with them over those years in Ketterdam. She hadn’t quite realised how much she missed them until now. 

Kaz stands by, leaning on his cane and watching from the shadows. It’s achingly familiar: Kaz never joined in with the conversations or games or jokes tossed around the Slat, but he always watched, and Inej knew he was secretly pleased when they all got along — and only partially because a more tight-knit gang is a more efficient one. 

Eventually, Inej manages to extricate herself, and walks out the door with Kaz. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rotty open his mouth to wolf-whistle only to be elbowed in the side by Anika; he doubles over in soundless pain. 

Inej smiles, and steps out onto the street. 

~

The streets of Ketterdam are quiet, footsteps muffled by the fallen snow. The cold keeps most of the city in their houses. There are still a few hurrying about on errands, but nobody pays close attention to the two figures walking side-by-side down the street. Kaz is grateful; he isn’t in the mood to get into a fight if a rival gang recognises him. 

His knee still aches, but walking is helping, as he (and Inej) knew it would. His coat is warm enough to keep out the cold, especially with Inej walking at his side. He’s missed her in her absence, more so than his dignity would allow him to admit to anyone but her. Seeing her again is like a breath of fresh air after too long underwater. 

Inej tells him about which slavers she’s gotten rid of and which Barrel bosses she thinks have been buying from them, about the rumours of a buyer with a hideout in the warehouse district, about — in a quieter voice — catching the man who kidnapped her, two and a half years ago. 

Her feet come to a stop; she is not looking at anything around them. “The ship,” she says, quietly. “It was. The same one. That I was—” 

Kaz isn’t good at offering comfort, but Inej’s eyes look far away like she’s been pulled out of her skin, like she’s far away in a ship that brought her torment. “Inej,” he says, but she doesn’t seem to hear him; a shiver races across her skin. 

Touch, Kaz thinks, would help. To ground her. To draw her back to the snowy streets of Ketterdam, and away from where she is now. He doesn’t think he could touch bare skin right now — the cold has brought back memories of cold water and cold skin — but he’s wearing gloves, and so is she. 

“Inej,” Kaz says again, and brushes the back of his hand against hers. 

She shudders faintly, exhaling mist into the cold air, and grabs his hand properly. Her eyes flick over to him, present again in a way they weren’t before. “Kaz.” 

Kaz feels something in him relax at the sound of her voice. A small smile appears on her face; he feels his own lips tick faintly up in response. 

Talking about it, right now, in the open street, is not what she needs. So he returns to their earlier topic of conversation, offering his side of the puzzle that will show her where Captain Ghafa is needed most. 

Thanks to Inej, most of Ketterdam’s pleasure houses have closed down, and Kaz has been ensuring that no new ones open (quietly, because it feels like a crack in the armour that is Dirtyhands, but efficiently all the same). He’s also made a custom of keeping an ear to the ground, listening for rumours of anyone trading in people — whether that be regular indentured slaves, Grisha, or women — and finding out their veracity. 

Now, he tells her what he knows about the trader in the warehouse district, and they fall into planning out their next steps as they have a hundred times before. Except now, Inej isn’t the Wraith, indentured to Per Haskell, Kaz’s subordinate in the Dregs; she is free, and still choosing to walk beside Kaz with their hands still entwined. 

While plotting murder, naturally. But for them, that’s par for the course. 

~

Inej discovers that she’s missed plotting with Kaz. 

He has a tendency to make at least four layers of plans beyond what he actually tells her about, which can be a bit annoying, but she’s missed it nonetheless. Before the Ice Court, she’d bring him secrets and whispers from all over Ketterdam and he’d listen, and ask questions, and take her input on whatever plans he concocted. 

Now it’s — it’s not Kaz concocting plans and Inej bringing him the information he needs; it’s both of them sharing information, then building plans together. Plans that are actually the entire plan, not just the basics that Kaz sees fit to tell her; they are partners in this, equals, in a way that they weren’t before. 

Kaz trusts a very small number of people. Trust itself has been dimmed out of him by cruelty and plague and loss, and the Barrel is not exactly the best place to learn to trust again. Even with the Dregs, she knows that Kaz must always be on the lookout, always aware of the motivations of everyone around him in case those motivations should lead them to betray him. 

He trusts Jesper. Wylan, now, too, Inej thinks. Nina, perhaps; her allegiance to the Ravkan throne is an obstacle, but not an unsurmountable one. Rotty. 

And Inej. Even before the Ice Court, he trusted the information she brought, even relied on it — and today, he shares information with her in equal measure. He tells her what he’s planning, lets her see not only what but how he thinks. Kaz turns life into a series of magic tricks, performances, where he pulls the strings from behind the curtains. Now he’s letting her come backstage with him, and that is a gift. 

(It is also a gift that they’re still holding hands. Kaz hasn’t let go since he drew her from memories of a slave ship she’d rather forget, despite his aversion to touch. Their hands are gloved, yes, but he holds her hand like it’s nothing, like the demons of his past don’t haunt his skin like ghosts. She doesn’t know if they’re absent for once or simply being ignored, but either way, Kaz is choosing to keep holding hands of his own free will.) 

In this part of town — the wealthier, bourgeois district they’ve wandered into — they’re not going to be recognised as Dirtyhands and Captain Ghafa. They could be mistaken for any two sweethearts, wandering the streets despite the cold, speaking sweet nothings in low tones — and although they are not that couple and never could be, on this street, in the snow, they are — similar. 

They are two people broken by the cruelty of the world, two people who have pieced themselves back together into someone different, stronger, than they once were. Two people who have too many jagged edges to fit with anyone unbroken, unscarred; two people who, nevertheless, are walking down Ketterdam’s streets in the snow. 

Snowflakes are still falling, dusting Kaz’s hair with white, the outline of the city paled to something gentler than usual. Their breath ghosts in the air, and Inej is comfortable regardless of the cold, warmed from the inside out by her hand in Kaz’s and his smile when he looks at her. 

Gradually, the conversation shifts from planning to reminiscing, to storytelling. Inej talks about her crew — among them not a few former Dregs — and Kaz reciprocates with updates on how all the current Dregs are doing. 

Their words drift, like snowflakes, and Inej smiles and laughs and is at peace. 

~

Inej is telling a story, and Kaz watches her, drinking up the joy that emanates from her with such ease. She’s dusted with snow, and little curls of hair flutter around her face in the wind. She’s beautiful. 

She is, unquestionably, far too good for anyone so broken and crooked as Kaz. She deserves better than him, but she also deserves whatever she wants. And she has also been quite clear that she wants to spend this time with Kaz, so who is he to deny her?

If she deserves better than what he is now, then he’ll simply have to make himself into someone more worthy of her. 

So Kaz walks by her side and holds her hand and absorbs into himself all the goodness that she gives him freely. She’s brighter now than she ever was as part of the Dregs; this — fighting for what she believes in, fighting for everyone as powerless as she once was — is good for her. (Good for the world, too, most likely, but Kaz is more preoccupied with Inej.) Kaz doesn’t really believe that people have preordained destinies, paths they’re set to follow — but if he did, he’d say Inej is achieving her purpose. 

He doesn’t know what his own destiny might be, but he knows he wants his path to lie close to hers. 

Kaz is a cynical bastard, has been since he swam to shore using his brother’s corpse as a raft. He isn’t good at having faith, at hoping for the best outcome, at believing in a magic trick. 

But Inej laughs, and this is no sleight of hand — it’s more magic than trick, inexplicable and real all at once. There is no curtain to look behind, only truth. Only magic. 

It is fitting that Inej be crowned by snowflakes.

[sweetfirebird]

I have a messy rant about some historical docs that I needed to get out. It's incomplete and not well-written, but, yeah, I had to get it out of my head. So it's going behind a cut. Free free to ignore it.

It's amazing how many documentaries about notorious historical figures will do their best to avoid any thought or commentary about the systems these people lived in (and sometimes ruled over). They might do a passing mention of something terrible in the person's childhood or something. But it's only ever in passing and it's not even a guarantee that it will get mentioned at all. (Maybe it's the shitty documentaries and I need some better books on the subjects.)

And I am not excusing any of the things these people did if they did do them. It's just incredible to me, though I shouldn't be surprised because we don't even really do this now for our current notorious figures.

As one example, though, I've watched/listened to a lot of things about Richard III and not one has really gone into any depth about the warring all throughout his formative years or how that was pretty normal? for the ruling class of that time and place? His brother had his other brother executed (for reasons but nonetheless he did it). His brother also (more than likely) had the previous king murdered. This was the procedure. This is a system that encouraged this and allowed this--as long as you held the throne once you had it and gave your supporters their cash money and honors.

Is (allegedly) killing your tween nephews bad? Yeah obviously but it also... is the logical outcome of that system. It was as close to perfectly normal as a system that allows taking leadership of a country by force and bloodline can be. He just failed at holding the throne but he wasn't like... unusual.

But they don't want to talk about that because, I assume, it sort of reflects badly on the entire still going monarchy business. (And yeah yeah Tudor propaganda but I'm not talking about that right now. I'm talking about the lens with which we are examining these people now.) Probably no one wants to talk about that but my annoying nerdy ass, i know.

Or, okay. Let's say you have people accused of Bad Things ranging from general debauchery and reckless behavior to... possible devil worship... to serial killing with a frankly ridiculous number of victims. Or let's say you are discussing a few cases of "mad" kings. Or de Sade or someone like him. If you set aside the validity of many of the charges against these people (it's easy to accuse someone who is already behaving badly of behaving VERY badly in order to get what you want) and acknowledge the difficulty of diagnosing anyone hundreds or thousands of years later, you have... people being punished for being, like, too obviously the logical outcome of their time and place and then failing instead of succeeding. That's it. These monsters (to us) could only exist in those places. They are products of those places. But these specials never go into that. They just popped up out of nowhere! Amazing! A mystery!

Like, these people were just embarrassingly too much of the thing they were supposed to be and it was making the rest of those in their stations look bad, which set their peers against them and made them easy targets (for land grabs or whatever).

Or when they did succeed (while being horrible), the docs try to excuse it, and maybe this is why you get modern historians trying desperately to say that Henry VIII must have had a head injury or madness from syphilis to explain his behavior and not just....

he was never told no, guys. No one ever told him no. There was no way TO tell him no (if you wanted to keep your head). Henry is what happens when you do that. Henry is what happens when the world says women do not really have value outside of childbirth and fucking anyway. Henry is what happens when you say kings are divine--and he's also what happens when you come from a violent class and culture and you've recently had a long civil war that killed off most of the other possible claimants to the throne so there is no one to really oppose or stand up to you.

Or the slutty slutty drunken Earl of Rochester having no known childhood behavioral problems being carted off to school at thirteen and then suddenly becoming reckless and violent and lecherous? I wonder if the set up for abuse of all kinds at those schools had anything to do with that, and then also the general world for noble men of that time which allowed them to do whatever they wanted, particularly with (lower class) women with little to no repercussions. hmm a mystery where he came from.

He's not actually that unusual, he just wrote slutty slutty poems about it so he gets remembered. There were tons of dudes like him who probably did worse. They just also did enough of the things they were supposed to do that no one cared about the rest. He's not really an outlier. He is representative of the time and place.

These are ruling class people, and it's Europe, so there is also the Church to consider in all of these things, like, intricately tied up with the misogyny and classism and everything else is the Church. It is also a thing with beliefs that these docs do not want to get into. And I'm not going to go into it either right now. It's just a pattern I've noticed and it's irking me.

Heroes and horrors are created by their times. I mean... no. NO. I'm going to stop there before this gets any longer or more rambly. They still do this now, I know. But I guess I expect historians to have the distance to really look.

But as I said, maybe I just need to watch better docs.

... You can see now where Larin came from though, I bet.

[siderealmaven]

Happy Full Moon Lunar Eclipse in Virgo!

Cards: 2 of Cups and Justice from the Tarot Manara

This is our first eclipse of 2024 and will be followed by a Solar Eclipse in Pisces on April 8th. This two week period, as well as the two weeks before and after, are what I will be referring to as “Eclipse Szn.”

During Eclipse Szn, I often emphasize the importance of rest. Ancient Astrologers believed eclipses to be malefic events, heralding the birth and death of kings, nations, and peoples. For the average person, this can be a tremulous time to be out and about as emotions are highly charged and people are more reactive than usual. Even if there is not an external commotion of energy taking up your atmosphere right now, there is surely something internal within all of us that is shifting like tectonic plates, revealing to us parts of ourselves once hidden.

If you have the ability and privilege, I would always recommend getting as much rest as you can during Eclipse Szn, because I view it as my responsibility as an astrologer to advise others in the same way that I would advise my loved ones. Which is to not pile more on your plate, to not push things that will get done in their own time, and to prioritize taking care of yourself both emotionally and physically, as Eclipse Szn is when we need this care the most.

While some may try to harness this energy into something productive, the truth is that pushing, forcing, and using speed at this time can be detrimental to your goals, especially as Mercury enters Aries today, where it will soon Retrograde. Whatever it is you think you are forcing to happen now, just might slide back and require a rework because you rushed into something that requires meticulous patience.

The 2 of Cups calls upon us to consider our relationships at this time, from your relationship to yourself to your relationship with your family, friends, coworkers, and community, etc. This is a card that speaks to a pure and innocent connection where both partners feel safe embodying their full emotions and sense of self. A connection without judgement, manipulation, or expectation; just a dedication to seeing and accepting the other person as they are, whatever that may look like at any given time.

The Justice card asks us to consider the cause and effect of these relationships, both externally and internally. What are the tangible physical and emotional consequences of engaging in these relationships? Under this Virgo Moon and Pisces Sun, the answer can be difficult to decipher as our data may be incomplete or incongruences between the physical and emotional do not seem to entirely add up. It may feel like people say one thing and then do another. Perhaps their actions or words communicate an intention but the result is something different.

And the “why” behind it all may seem just out of reach right now. Like an elephant in the room nobody comments on, like the answer to a test question that you know you know, but just cannot recall and put words to. You want to trust and believe your person, to take them at face value, but for some reason you don’t.

Together these cards ask to reflect on not just what our relationships can provide us; the give and take; but how our relationships actually make us feel. When looking at these cards, a fitting quote came to mind:

“One of the greatest mistakes is to judge policies and programs by their intentions and not their results.” —Milton Friedman

This quote makes me think about the incongruence between the intentions of our laws in the USA versus the actual effect of them. We are a country that wears our convictions proudly on our sleeve, declaring to the world that we are a symbol of freedom of speech and religion. And yet our laws punish and imprison people who practice these values when they do not align with the dominant culture, resulting in the opposite of it claims to stand for.

On the Justice card we see a Palestinian woman, gazing sorrowfully at the camera, half of her face hidden. I can’t help but to think of the way our President sends food to Palestine on parachutes as an show of good will, but the result is a massacre of everyone who dares to reach for it. Perhaps the “intention” is what they say, to provide relief for a starving population. But the Justice card would argue that the real intention is murder, for that is the ultimate result of such actions (which continue to be taken.)

This Full Moon is a time to reflect on the incongruence between the intentions of a relationship and the actual results of being in them. Are the people you are in relationship with telling you one thing and then doing another? Do they express intentions of love and care, only to make you feel judged and unworthy? Do they make promises on good intentions only to never follow through? If so, it might be time to consider that there was never truly an intention to follow through, but simply to placate, to lull you into complicity, to accept less than a connection that prioritizes love, respect, and honest communication.

It is easy to get stuck in feelings of being complacent. And it easy for an Eclipse to come along and shake you out of it in ways that you don’t expect. It is likely that during this Eclipse Szn, you will find that you have outgrown certain relationships, and even certain aspects of yourself. You no longer want to accept good intentions when there is no good result. You become tired of making promises to yourself that you can no longer keep (or perhaps, never have.) You grow tired of trying to meet the expectations of other people when you know deep down, you can’t or don’t really want to.

If this is the case, then now is the time to be honest with yourself. To be patient with yourself as these feelings come to light and change your perspective. To ask questions of both yourself and others, to really listen to the response, to think deeply about how the response makes you feel and why. If you know that a separation is on the horizon, then try your best to approach it with love, respect and honesty.

On the other hand… I want you to think about the relationships where you do feel seen, heard, respected and cared for. Who are the people that show up for you time and time again? Who are the people that never make you doubt them because they communicate clearly exactly where you stand? Who are the people who withhold their judgement and approach you with curiosity? Who are the people who hold you, who listen to you, who do their best to provide you with resources, tools, affection, and trust? Who is uplifting you?

These are the relationships that you want to focus on right now. These are the relationships that you want to invest in.

And I know that after talking about intentions and results being different that it can inspire feelings of suspicion and defensiveness. We have all been lied to and we have all been hurt. But what is not meant to be will fade on it’s own, what is meant to pass with this Eclipse will pass, and there is no sense of control to be gained here.

What you can control is showing up in your relationships with integrity, compassion, and sincerity. You can make sure your words and actions align with your intentions and convictions. You can move in ways that inspire others to do the same. That is your power.

Thank you so much for reading!

If you willing and able, please consider donating to Doctors Without Borders, an organization working to provide aid to the people in Palestine. Link Here.

originally published to @siderealmaven's Patreon.

[sepublic]

            Let’s talk Soundwave in the Nizziverse. Soundwave and Blaster were both part of the same body frame devised under Fuctionist rule; Members of this niche were designed to act as comms experts, helping to facilitate radio waves, receive and send signals, all that jazz. Some were stationed on colonies to help establish contact with Cybertron, others stayed on Cybertron itself to keep the airwaves running.

         It was your typical job of helping with the news, being in charge of transmission towers, often being said transmission towers. These Cybertronians also played a role in decoding and analyzing alien frequencies, as part of the empire’s larger effort to engage with and ultimately conquer other civilizations. Scouts would use sonar imaging to create maps of new worlds and their local terrain.

         To aid these Transformers, smaller Cybertronians known as Cassettes were devised, acting as scouts who could record visual and auditory data, before reporting back to a handler to physically connect with them. Data would be transferred, and the handler could act as both storage and transporation, as well as as an amplifier for whatever their Cassettes had observed.

         Wireless communications were one way to receive their data, but sometimes the Functionists were paranoid of enemies tuning in to said transmissions and figuring out what the Empire knew; Physical transfer avoided this. Likewise, interference from the local environment was another motivator. Most importantly, the Functionists, for all their faults, recognized the value of physical copies, and the Cassettes were designed among many reasons to serve this purpose, contributing to an effort to create backups and other records to fall back on.

         Vocoded voices were the default, as these Transformers could narrow down their tune to impersonate any sound and especially voices for replay function, as well as entertainment purposes too. Many members of this body frame were sociable and often played music to the delight of those around them.

         Soundwave and Blaster served this niche in the waning days of the Functionist regime. Blaster did media and propaganda propagation, serving in public radio networks and broadcasts, hence his more extroverted and playful personality. By contrast, Soundwave was a recluse even amongst his fellow brethren, designed to handle long stretches of loneliness in assisting communications between distant colonies and Cybertron. This often meant being stationed by himself on asteroids to boost signals, made not to have a voice or thoughts of his own, but merely to relay those of others.

         Soundwave was eventually moved back to Cybertron, to facilitate airwaves in the backwater, quieter regions of Cybertron. Due to his own natural disposition and the conditioning of his environment, Soundwave didn’t really hang out with his coworkers, instead studiously attending to his job before leaving, exactly by clockwork. Contrary to popular belief, Soundwave DID have his own ideas and reflections, but his silent and introverted personality made it easy for people to assume he was just a mindless grunt, a perfect gear for the Cybertronian machine who was bored and aloof.

         Some found him a creep or cold, like talking to a wall, others would joke or gossip behind his back with the occasional rumor of what he did back in his apartment. He often became ignored as just a setpiece, a part of the background; But little did people know, they underestimated Soundwave’s ability to observe. He was always listening, and remembering, and in his spare time liked to make physical records to keep tabs on those around him.

         Soundwave meant no malice, it was just his only way of socially engaging with others, since doing so in real time was difficult and complicated and constantly changing. But when in retrospect, everything was set and easy for Soundwave to analyze and reflect on afterwards. He had other hobbies and deep interests, enjoying research, and was also dedicated to media preservation, collaborating with others online as a faceless account.

         Being online gave Soundwave a lot more freedom to express himself and talk to others in (relatively) real time. He participated in servers where Cybertronians took it upon themselves to gather and record lost pieces of media and history, and this eventually led Soundwave down a rabbit hole into forums filled with rather dissident ideas and data. Due to his expertise, Soundwave was able to keep his location encrypted, safe from government surveillance.

         This activity planted certain ideas in Soundwave’s head. So when he did his usual hobby of listening in on local airwaves as a voyeur, he caught wind of a gladiator’s scathing deconstructions of the Functionist regime. Known as Megatron, this local of Kaon waxed poetic in his theses about the government’s corruption and outdated policies, and Soundwave felt himself enamored with the charisma of this mysterious voice.

         Megatron had no idea Soundwave was listening, as he was skilled in encryption in ways even official surveyors weren’t. By all means, he should’ve reported this scandal to those in charge of censorship and keeping the peace… But that wasn’t HIS job, technically. So Soundwave didn’t, and fell in love with Megatron’s daring ideas. Soundwave had felt like he led an admittedly empty, meaningless existence, just going on through the motions as an ideal cog in the great Cybertronian machine.

         But Megatron’s ideas gave Soundwave purpose, and an actual future to look forward to, rather than an ever-present now. So Soundwave participated in isolated forums dedicated to this growing rebellion, made contact with Megatron behind an anonymous account, and eventually tracked him down. Megatron was deeply surprised and disturbed to be so easily found out, but Soundwave instead knelt and pledged loyalty to his cause, proclaiming Megatron to be a visionary that Cybertron needed.

         It quickly became apparent that Soundwave’s unwavering dedication was genuine, and Megatron recruited him as a second-in-command, ecstatic for Soundwave’s talents. Soundwave used his abilities to broadcast and relay Megatron’s speeches across Cybertron, keeping their location hidden while exposing countless Transformers to ideas of rebellion; In the early stages of the rebellion, he was a key founder and player. 

        His valuable work helped facilitate communications between rebel cells, enabling greater collaboration and effort, and it was in this effort that Soundwave first came across as Blaster, who operated as part of Optimus Prime’s cell. On the surface, Soundwave remained as seemingly aloof and stoic as ever, and many rebels didn’t understand why Megatron held him in such good faith. They figured Soundwave could easily rat them out, especially with his great trove of data and nearly singular access, but Megatron reciprocated Soundwave’s unwavering trust.

         Megatron encouraged Soundwave to speak up more, take more of a leadership role, as he became privy to just how much of a thinker he was after Soundwave felt comfortable in opening up and talking about his thoughts to the gladiator. Megatron recognized Soundwave’s potential, although many derided him as an ‘uncharismatic bore’ who was always wandering in his own head. Again, Soundwave played the role of support, but it was a role he actually chose this time; He genuinely believed afterwards that his life had no purpose until he met Megatron.

         As Megatron encouraged Cybertronians to think outside of the box and apply their talents in ways the Functionists didn’t intend, but that they were just as good for, Soundwave took his hobby of voyeurism and observation to the next step. When the rebellion became more intense, Soundwave acted as a hacker, working with his Cassettes to spy on Functionists and even those within the rebellion, as a means of keeping tabs on everyone. Soundwave dug up dirt and had it physically uploaded to a hard copy, in case the rebellion ever needed to strong arm someone into cooperating for the greater good.

         Soundwave exposed corruption through his work, and used sonar imaging to study what happened inside during stake-outs. His Cassettes infiltrated and downloaded important data, while also uploading sabotaging viruses. Soundwave became a master of surveillance, blackmail, and encryption, and garnered an even worse reputation amongst the rebels for it. He was often considered Megatron’s stooge, his eyes and ears, his little spy; Not that Soundwave minded what others thought of him.

         He also stretched the boundaries of his intended role in other ways, eventually learning combat and especially assassination, which Soundwave facilitated through his cassettes. Modifications weaponized his sonar imaging to become devastating sonic blasts, which under the right frequencies could shatter and expose key weak points. Soundwave also used this ability for interrogation and torture, as data continued to become an even bigger part of his existence. His vocoded voice could now be used to impersonate others, essentially catfishing for the rebellion.

         Appropriately, Soundwave eventually led a division of others of his body frame who also supported the rebellion. They acted as Megatron’s personal agents, carrying out the aforementioned tasks on an even wider scale. As the rebellion evolved into full-out war, members on both sides spread rumors that Soundwave could even hear the thoughts of those around them, and to be wary as a result.

         When the rebellion achieved victory, Soundwave helped personally announce the defeat of the Functionist regime, and the triumph of liberty. He attended celebrations afterwards with Megatron, showing a bit more personality than usual and even letting go a bit, playing music and his favorite tunes. It was during this time of peace that Soundwave got to know Optimus Prime, another one of Megatron’s close friends. 

        Likewise, as his brethren (such as Blaster) narrowed their vocoders down to individual voices, to assert their own individual identity, Soundwave kept himself vocoded. In his eyes, he was already given a voice of his own by Megatron, and anyhow he had his own duties to attend to.

         Under the new government, Soundwave enjoyed much more freedom like every other Cybertronian, and due to his prior combat experience, participated with Megatron in invading other worlds for their Energon; The planet needed repairs after a costly rebellion. The functions of Soundwave’s body type further expanded and were facilitated in such fields with the invention of Reedman’s unique frame (if it can be called that), as Cassettes were now employed and expected in warfare and assassination. Soundwave of course was a key player in displaying and establishing this modern precedent/feature of his type.

         Soundwave and his Cassettes’ newly-discovered talents applied on the battlefield as they did against the Functionists, with Soundwave often adopting a new satellite alt-mode to spy on civilizations from orbit. He played a key role in infiltrating and destabilizing societies from within, to set them up for Decepticon invasion; Often collaborating with natives and blackmailing them into service. During the period of open war that followed afterwards, Soundwave would sometimes use the recorded screams of victims as a means of psychological warfare.

         When public attention turned towards the dubious ethics of colonization (to put it lightly), Soundwave fanatically sided with Megatron, and thus supported imperialism. He fully trusted in Megatron and believed his leader could do no wrong, having seen how Megatron had brought everyone to glory and liberation under his rule. Accordingly, he dedicated himself to Megatron’s expanded ideas on Cybertronian superiority.

         Inevitably, Soundwave and his division evolved into a secret police of sorts, when Megatron expanded his power in a bid to unite Cybertron against these ‘weak-hearted dissidents’ that were showing more dedication to outsiders and enemies than their own kind. Once Soundwave and his brethren broadcasted and spread messages, now they inspected and censored them. They performed surveillance on behalf of the government, cracking down on a new generation of rebels and using their talents for suppression in ways the Functionists had failed to consider.

         If Soundwave ever stopped to consider the irony of his situation, he certainly didn’t show it, like a lot of things. Once more his talents applied, and he used his voice to commit what was basically government-backed catfishing, infiltratring forums and impersonating others to root them out. Soundwave worked closely with the Decepticon Justice Division in cracking down on dissidents, blocking their frequencies, interrogating and torturing, publicly defrauding through research and outright lies, the accumulation of blackmail, etc.

         Soundwave helped keep tabs on news stations, which put him into direct conflict with Blaster, who felt that the truth could not be suppressed, nor should reports on public opinion, questionable events, and so forth. Blaster thus became a rival and arch-nemesis for Soundwave as the Great War began, between Autobots and Decepticons; Soundwave seeing Blaster as a loud-mouthed blowhard who thrived on the attention of others but had little to say himself, and so compensated by yelling to make the silence of his head seem otherwise. Just a spout of mindless drivel, in his eyes.

         As the Great War raged, Cybertron’s Energon count drastically began to dwindle, and many casualties were suffered on both sides. Without the resources to adequately replenish such losses, many cassettes and others of Soundwave’s costly body frame were destroyed and never replaced. As a result, Soundwave and Blaster became rarities, holdovers from a previous age, as did their Cassettes. Soundwave had always been used to being lonely, but not like this, and this gradual extinction further radicalized and vindicated his support for Megatron not just by individual principle, but actual dedication to his ideals as well.

         Soundwave blindly supported Megatron in every action, keeping eyes on those within Decepticon ranks, and especially on the new and upcoming Starscream, repurposed from the body of a previous friend of Megatron’s. He acted as Megatron’s devil’s advocate and supporter in his absence, frequently butting heads with Starscream. When Megatron disappeared with the Allspark, Soundwave worked to maintain his authority even when he was gone, and guarded viciously against Starscream’s insinuations that Megatron had detrimentally doomed Cybertron with his Chimera Cube ploy.

��        This truly proved Soundwave’s loyalty in the eyes of the Fallen, who was impressed by how the Decepticon fought back against Starscream’s suggestions that in his effort to save Cybertron, Megatron had merely screwed over their world and should thus be disregarded in favor of someone who not only meant what they said, but could actually carry it out (Starscream suggested such incompetence was a treachery in its own right, worth posthumously condemning). As a result, the Fallen revealed himself and his hidden mentorship to Megatron, acting on his apprentice’s behalf to maintain Decepticon leadership under the hopes he would one day return.

         Soundwave accepted Megatron’s decision to keep the Fallen secret from him without question, as in all his observations and listening, never once did he turn it to his own leader, not even out of idle curiosity or force of non-malicious habit. Through Soundwave, the Fallen kept the Decepticons from falling apart and especially from submitting to Starscream, as he searched for Megatron and the Allspark.

         Soundwave was suspicious of Starscream, but ultimately abided in letting him lead a scouting mission on a new potential colony, known as Earth by its inhabitants; Though just to be safe, he assigned his cassettes Rumble and Frenzy to keep an eye. When news of Megatron and the Allspark’s presence there was broadcast, Soundwave immediately relayed the message to Decepticons across the cosmos, trying to encrypt it from Autobot ears, as he headed straight for Earth; A new fire had been re-ignited by Megatron once more, as a day that had gone dark again, was once again lit up.

         Alas, Soundwave was nowhere close to Earth when he received an additional update; Not only were his two cassettes dead, Megatron had died by the Allspark itself, which was now lost and destroyed. Soundwave was devastated and refused to believe his leader would be so definitively taken away, after being brought back; But the Fallen’s arcane knowledge reassured him that there was a chance of resurrecting Megatron, thanks to the very means that ended his life.

         Soundwave thus worked with the Constructicons, guiding them to Earth as he collaborated with other Decepticon agents, behind Starscream’s back, to revive their fallen leader. Even as the Fallen revealed himself to Starscream and attended to the treacherous lieutenant, keeping him occupied, Soundwave’s efforts successfully retrieved a shard of the Chimera Cube, still lingering with the Allspark’s power, as well as the location of Megatron’s body.

         Megatron was revived by the Allspark, which gave back what it had taken, and Soundwave was reinvigorated once more. This time he had a proper reunion and deep thanks from Megatron, who was grateful for his lieutenant; And Soundwave merely dismissed the effort as only natural and expected. Soundwave assisted Megatron in his plot to harvest Earth’s sun, explaining everything he’d missed out on.

        After the Fallen was slain by Optimus Prime, Soundwave set to work on a new scheme, collaborating with various humans such as Dylan Gould to use the dark side of Earth’s moon to the Decepticons’ advantage. During this time, Soundwave abandoned his more modern satellite alt-mode and returned to his previous, default frame. The task of surveying Earth from orbit was symbolically assigned to Combaticon Blast Off instead, as Soundwave began to participate in groundwork once again; Something that always heralded the next, most destructive phase of Decepticon invasion… open combat itself.

[nerdywizardflower]

Movie Review: GEETHASAKSHIGA (2023)

After RRR, Baahubali, Pushpa and Saaho, Tollywood has produced another gem in 2023. This time, it's an emotionally charged, feminist courtroom-drama called Geetha Sakshiga. Directed by Anthony Mattipalli, written and produced by Chetan Maisuria, the movie recently hit the theatres on 7th April 2023 and is available in Telugu and Hindi languages. The movie has Aadarsh, Chitra Shukla and Rupesh Shetty as its primary characters.

Here is the synopsis of the movie:

Arjun is a DJ in a popular pub in hyderabad. He falls for Amoolya. Things change when the police arrest him for allegedly raping and killing an innocent girl. After five years, ACP Roopesh reopens the case to find out the truth behind the heinous crime. Did Arjun really commit the crime, or was he framed by someone else?

I recently went to a theatre and watched this beautiful, feminist courtroom-drama. The movie is about Arjun, who is a DJ at a pub in Hyderabad, played by Aadarsh. Arjun is an emotional, sensitive and caring young man. His kind-heartedness is visible in his behaviour- he is a doting son to his mother, a fun teacher to his students- whom he teaches music for free and is responsible towards his family. His family decided to marry him and being a devoted son, he agrees. Soon however, he realises he isn’t in love with the person his family chose for him. His dilemma grows as he falls in love with a beautiful young woman- Amoolya (played by Chirtra Shukla). His life completely changes when he gets convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment for brutally raping and murdering a girl. Despite being innocent, he gets wrongly convicted and has to accept his fate. However, 5 years down the line, the case is reopened by ACP Roopesh, Played by R. Shetty. He once again has to prove his innocence in court, in front of the same people and the media who wrongly accused him and condemned him five years ago. The only change this time around is that he has a saviour- a good lawyer. I wouldn’t spoil the movie for you guys but do know that it isn’t who you think it is.

The movie is an empowering tale of a man who is shunned by society and media for a crime he didn’t commit and how he is saved by the women in his life. The movie is a realistic reflection of society and the world in general. A lot of times innocent people are wrongly accused for heinous crimes, what ensues is a media frenzy and open trial, a narrative gets formulated and the real trial gets affected. Meanwhile, the culprit roams free to commit more crimes. The movie shows how even the law is subject to the influence of power and money. It beautifully handles and depicts power dynamics that run the society.

In addition, crimes such as rape are extremely common, women face violence everyday and the law fails to provide justice to the victim and their family. The movie depicts this sad reality with great sensitivity.

Arjun is a good character but the thing that makes this movie special for me is its female characters. Females in popular media are stereotypical, helpless, and fit certain moulds, present only to charm the audiences and be the male lead’s love interest. This trend has plagued the tollywood industry and other indian industries in general. This movie however, not only has plenty of different types of female characters, it shows how these females have agency over their own lives and possess the power to change the narrative. These women contribute to the narrative and add value to it. Amoolya is not merely the love-interest of Arjun, she is also a driver of the plot, she is the hero, the saviour of the story.

The real hero in this movie is a female, not a male and that is what makes it special.

Apart from having complex themes, the movie is a majestic cinematic experience and a great entertainer. I definitely recommend you all to watch this movie ASAP, it is available in your nearest theatres.

[poemshubs]

7 Poems About Heroes

In literature, the concept of the hero has long been a central theme, exploring the qualities that define heroic characters, from strength and courage to sacrifice and moral integrity. Throughout poetry, this theme has been depicted in various forms, capturing the diverse aspects of heroism. The following twelve poems serve as vivid illustrations of what it means to be a hero, offering readers a glimpse into different types of heroism and the nuances of human valor.

1. “The Charge of the Light Brigade” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Tennyson’s “The Charge of the Light Brigade” is a stirring narrative poem based on a real military event during the Battle of Balaclava in 1854, during the Crimean War. The poem celebrates the bravery of British cavalry soldiers who, through a miscommunication, charged directly into the enemy’s artillery lines, knowing they faced certain death. Tennyson’s use of repetition and vivid imagery—especially phrases like “Into the valley of Death / Rode the six hundred”—evokes a sense of fearless heroism. Despite the confusion that led to the charge, the soldiers’ unwavering commitment to duty makes them heroic figures, emphasizing sacrifice and duty over personal survival.

In this poem, Tennyson doesn’t glorify the futility of war but highlights the noble courage of those who followed orders despite the obvious peril. The heroism here is not based on victory or success, but on the willingness to face death for a greater cause.

2. “Beowulf” (translated by Seamus Heaney)

One of the most famous epic poems in the English language, Beowulf tells the story of its titular hero, Beowulf, who battles monstrous creatures to protect the kingdom of the Danes. The poem is steeped in Anglo-Saxon values such as honor, loyalty, and the importance of reputation. Beowulf’s heroic deeds include his defeat of Grendel, Grendel’s mother, and, ultimately, a dragon in his old age, highlighting his unwavering courage and strength.

In the epic, heroism is often tied to physical might, but it also speaks to moral fortitude and the sense of duty to one’s people. As Beowulf grows older and faces his final battle, the poem also explores the idea of heroism in the face of mortality. Heroism here is depicted not just in the deeds performed, but in the legacy left behind, showing how heroes inspire future generations.

3. “The Hero” by Siegfried Sassoon

Siegfried Sassoon’s “The Hero” takes a starkly different approach to heroism, focusing on the disillusionment of soldiers during World War I. The poem follows a young soldier’s death and how his sacrifice is glamorized by the people back home. Sassoon critiques the idea of heroism, showing how the hero’s true fate is far less glamorous than it is made out to be in public discourse. The soldiers who die are not necessarily heroes, but victims of the futility of war.

In this poem, Sassoon challenges the conventional glorification of military heroism and exposes the gap between idealized views of heroism and the grim realities of combat. The heroism depicted here is ultimately empty, questioning the narrative that soldiers’ deaths are honorable and noble.

4. “Iliad” by Homer (translated by Robert Fagles)

The Iliad is another cornerstone of heroic poetry, recounting the events of the Trojan War. Central to this epic is Achilles, the greatest of the Greek warriors. In this poem, heroism is depicted through physical prowess, honor, and personal rage. Achilles’ heroism is marked by his incredible fighting ability and his uncompromising desire for glory. However, his withdrawal from battle due to a personal slight brings forth an important discussion of pride and the consequences of unchecked emotions.

Homer presents a multifaceted view of heroism: while Achilles’ strength and courage make him a formidable hero, his pride and stubbornness ultimately contribute to tragic outcomes. The poem reflects on the human flaws that can complicate the hero’s journey, making it clear that heroism is not always as simple as victory and valor, but involves complex emotions and relationships.

5. “Invictus” by William Ernest Henley

William Ernest Henley’s Invictus is a short yet powerful poem that explores the theme of personal resilience and courage in the face of adversity. Henley wrote this poem while recovering from surgery to amputate his leg, and it reflects his defiance against his physical limitations. The poem’s narrator, facing hardship and suffering, declares his ability to control his own fate, epitomized in the lines, “I am the master of my fate, / I am the captain of my soul.”

This poem highlights heroism not through physical feats or external acts of valor, but through inner strength and the ability to confront personal trials with determination. Invictus has become a symbol of perseverance, showing that true heroism lies in mental fortitude and self-mastery, regardless of the external circumstances.

6. “A Hero” by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Ralph Waldo Emerson’s A Hero takes a philosophical approach to the concept of heroism. In this brief yet profound poem, Emerson meditates on what it means to be a hero. He suggests that a hero is one who exemplifies greatness through their actions, not by conforming to societal expectations but by following their own inner voice. Emerson emphasizes the idea that heroes are not just exceptional individuals but are often those who challenge the status quo and exhibit profound self-reliance.

The hero in Emerson’s poem is not necessarily someone of physical strength or worldly power, but an individual who inspires others through their moral courage and independent spirit. The poem’s message underscores the significance of the individual and the importance of personal integrity as the foundation of heroism.

7. “To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time” by Robert Herrick

Although Robert Herrick’s To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time is often read as a carpe diem poem, it can also be interpreted as an exploration of heroism through living life fully and making the most of one’s time on earth. The poem encourages the reader to embrace youth and vitality, to seize opportunities, and to act boldly. This can be seen as a form of heroism—acting decisively and with purpose, without succumbing to the fear of failure or regret.

Here, heroism is depicted in the pursuit of joy and the vigorous embrace of life, suggesting that living boldly and with full awareness is its own kind of bravery. The poem’s message encourages readers to take action and live heroically, regardless of the external obstacles they may face.

8. “The Song of Hiawatha” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha is a narrative poem that celebrates the heroic exploits of its titular character, Hiawatha, a legendary Native American figure. In the poem, Hiawatha embodies many traditional virtues of heroism, including bravery, wisdom, and a deep connection to nature. He is a skilled warrior, a wise leader, and a figure who performs miraculous feats to benefit his people.

Through Hiawatha, Longfellow presents a vision of heroism rooted in the harmony between humanity and nature. The heroism of Hiawatha transcends physical combat; it is about using one’s gifts and knowledge to bring about peace, justice, and prosperity for one’s people. This broader definition of heroism connects with the idea of the hero as a servant to others, someone whose greatness lies in their selfless acts for the community.

9. “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost

Though The Road Not Taken is often considered a poem about choices and individualism, it also contains an underlying theme of heroism. In the poem, the speaker reflects on a choice made in the past and imagines how their life could have been different had they taken the other path. While the speaker does not outwardly take heroic action, the poem’s message centers on the bravery required to make choices that deviate from the norm and to live a life of uniqueness.

The heroism here is not about grand, visible deeds, but about the internal courage required to forge one’s own path. Frost’s depiction of heroism as a quiet, personal decision, rather than a public display of strength, makes this poem a nuanced reflection on what it means to be a hero in one’s own life.

10. “The Man with the Hoe” by Edwin Markham

In The Man with the Hoe, Markham writes about a working-class man who, despite his physical labor, is not celebrated as a hero in society. The poem paints a picture of a man crushed under the weight of oppressive labor, yet there is an implicit suggestion that this very man embodies a kind of silent, sacrificial heroism. The heroism of the worker is shown through his perseverance and ability to endure hardship, even though society fails to recognize his worth.

Markham uses the man’s suffering to critique societal structures that value the few over the many, but also to point out that heroism is often found in the quiet resilience of everyday people. The poem serves as a call for social justice, elevating those whose heroism is often overlooked.

11. “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe

While The Raven may not feature a traditional hero in the sense of physical prowess or moral clarity, the poem’s protagonist embodies a different type of heroism: the heroism of confronting grief and loss. As the narrator struggles with the death of his beloved Lenore, the raven symbolizes both a challenge and a test of his emotional endurance.

In this sense, the heroism of the speaker is his ability to face the sorrow and despair that life brings. Through his interactions with the raven, the poem explores the emotional resilience required to navigate profound loss. Poe’s protagonist may not emerge victorious in a traditional sense, but his confrontation with his own anguish elevates him to a form of quiet heroism.

12. “The Soldier” by Rupert Brooke

Rupert Brooke’s The Soldier is a patriotic poem written during World War I, reflecting the idealized notion of a soldier’s sacrifice for their country. The poem speaks to the soldier’s willingness to die for a greater cause, with the narrator claiming that his body, once laid to rest in a foreign land, will enrich the soil and become part of the very country he fought for.

In this poem, heroism is linked with the ultimate sacrifice—the giving of one’s life for one’s country. The poem expresses a romanticized vision of heroism that was prevalent during the early years of World War I, emphasizing duty and honor above all else. The soldier in Brooke’s poem is the epitome of patriotic heroism, willing to die without hesitation for the ideals of his nation.

Conclusion

These twelve poems explore a wide range of perspectives on heroism, from the traditional warrior archetype to the quiet courage of everyday individuals. While some of the poems celebrate outward acts of valor, others delve into the more complex aspects of heroism, including sacrifice, personal strength, and resilience. Through these works, we see that heroism is not a one-size-fits-all concept but is instead a deeply personal and often multifaceted quality that can be expressed in numerous ways. Whether through physical acts of courage, the confrontation with personal demons, or the silent endurance of hardship, these poems remind us of the diverse ways in which heroism can manifest in the human experience.