#tarocs

[tarocchilla]

my oc Lou, king of the sea...this was supposed to be an halloween drawing lol i got sidetracked

[tarocent]

sdr2 two man comedy routine cg ┈ ✩

time taken: 20 hrs 46 mins

[tarocent2763]

what would i do if i had not met you?

[astrologiabyamatagioviale]

INTERVISTA A LAURA TUAN I TAROCCHI GIAPPONESI

[anonbeadraws]

Art Fight Day 17: Betel, Duselle, & Astarot for tarocent 🪴 🪴com info in source!🪴

[bgrantt]

DADDY

You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to kill you. You died before I had time— Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one grey toe Big as a Frisco seal And a head in the freakish Atlantic Where it pours bean green over blue In the waters off beautiful Nauset. I used to pray to recover you. Ach, du. In the German tongue, in the Polish town Scraped flat by the roller Of wars, wars, wars. But the name of the town is common. My Polack friend Says there are a dozen or two. So I never could tell where you Put your foot, your root, I never could talk to you. The tongue stuck in my jaw. It stuck in a barb wire snare. Ich, ich, ich, ich, I could hardly speak. I thought every German was you. And the language obscene An engine, an engine Chuffing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew. The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna Are not very pure or true. With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack I may be a bit of a Jew. I have always been scared of you, With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo. And your neat moustache And your Aryan eye, bright blue. Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You- Not God but a swastika So black no sky could squeak through. Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you. You stand at the blackboard, daddy, In the picture I have of you, A cleft in your chin instead of your foot But no less a devil for that, no not Any less the black man who Bit my pretty red heart in two. I was ten when they buried you. At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do. But they pulled me out of the sack, And they stuck me together with glue. And then I knew what to do. I made a model of you, A man in black with a Meinkampf look And a love of the rack and the screw. And I said I do, I do. So daddy, I'm finally through. The black telephone's off at the root, The voices just can't worm through. If I've killed one man, I've killed two-The vampire who said he was you And drank my blood for a year, Seven years, if you want to know. Daddy, you can lie back now. There's a stake in your fat black heart And the villagers never liked you. They are dancing and stamping on you. They always knew it was you. Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.

12 October 1962 - Sylvia Plath

[deanjohn]

You do not do, you do not do

Any more, black shoe

In which I have lived like a foot

For thirty years, poor and white,

Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you.

You died before I had time—

Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,

Ghastly statue with one gray toe

Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic

Where it pours bean green over blue

In the waters off beautiful Nauset.

I used to pray to recover you.

Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town

Scraped flat by the roller

Of wars, wars, wars.

But the name of the town is common.

My Polack friend

Says there are a dozen or two.

So I never could tell where you

Put your foot, your root,

I never could talk to you.

The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.

Ich, ich, ich, ich,

I could hardly speak.

I thought every German was you.

And the language obscene

An engine, an engine

Chuffing me off like a Jew.

A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.

I began to talk like a Jew.

I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna

Are not very pure or true.

With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck

And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack

I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,

With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.

And your neat mustache

And your Aryan eye, bright blue.

Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You—

Not God but a swastika

So black no sky could squeak through.

Every woman adores a Fascist,

The boot in the face, the brute

Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,

In the picture I have of you,

A cleft in your chin instead of your foot

But no less a devil for that, no not

Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.

I was ten when they buried you.

At twenty I tried to die

And get back, back, back to you.

I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,

And they stuck me together with glue.

And then I knew what to do.

I made a model of you,

A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.

And I said I do, I do.

So daddy, I’m finally through.

The black telephone’s off at the root,

The voices just can’t worm through.

If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two—

The vampire who said he was you

And drank my blood for a year,

Seven years, if you want to know.

Daddy, you can lie back now.

There’s a stake in your fat black heart

And the villagers never liked you.

They are dancing and stamping on you.

They always knew it was you.

Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.

[sylviaplathink]

via @xHYDRATIONGODx on Twitter

...

“a bag full of God”

...

DADDY

You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to kill you. You died before I had time—- Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one gray toe Big as a Frisco seal And a head in the freakish Atlantic Where it pours bean green over blue In the waters off the beautiful Nauset. I used to pray to recover you. Ach, du. In the German tongue, in the Polish town Scraped flat by the roller Of wars, wars, wars. But the name of the town is common. My Polack friend Says there are a dozen or two. So I never could tell where you Put your foot, your root, I never could talk to you. The tongue stuck in my jaw. It stuck in a barb wire snare. Ich, ich, ich, ich, I could hardly speak. I thought every German was you. And the language obscene An engine, an engine, Chuffing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew. The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna Are not very pure or true. With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack I may be a bit of a Jew. I have always been scared of you, With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo. And your neat mustache And your Aryan eye, bright blue. Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You—— Not God but a swastika So black no sky could squeak through. Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you. You stand at the blackboard, daddy, In the picture I have of you, A cleft in your chin instead of your foot But no less a devil for that, no not Any less the black man who Bit my pretty red heart in two. I was ten when they buried you. At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do. But they pulled me out of the sack, And they stuck me together with glue. And then I knew what to do. I made a model of you, A man in black with a Meinkampf look And a love of the rack and the screw. And I said I do, I do. So daddy, I’m finally through. The black telephone’s off at the root, The voices just can’t worm through. If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two—- The vampire who said he was you And drank my blood for a year, Seven years, if you want to know. Daddy, you can lie back now. There’s a stake in your fat black heart And the villagers never liked you. They are dancing and stamping on you. They always knew it was you. Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.

–-Sylvia Plath, written 12 October 1962, in: Ariel, 1965

[teeter-beetle]

The Scorpion & the Frog

source: Myths and Magic of Mezal Taroc

read our book! Frogiverse.com/Padhopper

[gender-inator]

the -taroc gender system !!

(pronounced t-air-oh-cuh)

a gender system related to tarot, or tarot cards. this gender system can be used for individual cards, the act of drawing cards, interpreting cards, and all things involving tarot!

(note: if you coin using this gender system, i would love to see it! please tag and credit us :D)

planned genders underneath the cut

so far, genders that i plan to create within this gender system are:

a gender for every major arcana

a gender for every minor arcana

a gender for every suite

a gender for every divine pairing (sun and moon, emperor and empress, kings and queens, etc)

[tarocchilla]

my oc haika ! art from 17/06/2023

hes baby baby little baby, a jojo oc

[tarocent]

shadowsight lightning scene┈ ✩

time taken; 3hrs

[tarocent2763]

heres my boy ances silly queer man

[queersrus]

Tarot Theme - general

names, pronouns and titles based off tarot, synonyms included. (no specific card)

(Nick)Names:

Tarot, Tarro/Taro, Tarra, Tarroh/Taroh, Tar Tarocchi, Tarrochi, Tarochi Tarock, Taroc/Tarocc Trionfi, Tri, Trio, Trion, Triofi Taroette/Taroett, Tarett/Tarette, Tarotelle/Taroelle, Tarell/Tarelle Tarotine/Tarotin, Taroine/Taroin Taroter Tarota/Taroa Card, Carder, Carrd, Cardre, Cardell/Cardelle, Cardet/Cardett/Cardette, Cardin/Cardine

Titles:

(prn) who reads, (prn) who divines, (prn) who divines through tarot, (prn) who practices tarot, (prn) who reads tarot, (prn) who practices tarot readings, (prn) who does tarot, (prn) who does tarot readings, (prn) who practices tarot divination, (prn) who divines by tarot, (prn) who reads the cards, (prn) who holds the cards, (prn) who does tarotmancy, (prn) who practices tarotmancy the reader, the diviner, the practitioner of tarot, the tarot reader, the tarot diviner, the tarotmancer

1st p prns: i/me/my/mine/myself format

ti/tar/tarot/tarots/tarotself ci/card/cards/cards/cardself tar/car/tarots/cards/tarot cardself

2nd p prns: you/your/yours/yourself format

to/tar/tarots/tarotself, ta/tar/tarots/tarotself co/car/cards/cardself, ca/car/cards/cardself ta/car/tarots/cards/tarot cardself

3rd p prns: they/them format

tar/ot, tar/tarot, tarot/tarots car/card, card/cards tarot/card tarot/deck tarot/mancy, tarot/mancer tarot/diviner, tarot/divination

[viorne-cendres]

Daddy

BY SYLVIA PLATH

You do not do, you do not do

Any more, black shoe

In which I have lived like a foot

For thirty years, poor and white,

Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you.

You died before I had time——

Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,

Ghastly statue with one gray toe

Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic

Where it pours bean green over blue

In the waters off beautiful Nauset.

I used to pray to recover you.

Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town

Scraped flat by the roller

Of wars, wars, wars.

But the name of the town is common.

My Polack friend

Says there are a dozen or two.

So I never could tell where you

Put your foot, your root,

I never could talk to you.

The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.

Ich, ich, ich, ich,

I could hardly speak.

I thought every German was you.

And the language obscene

An engine, an engine

Chuffing me off like a Jew.

A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.

I began to talk like a Jew.

I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna

Are not very pure or true.

With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck

And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack

I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,

With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.

And your neat mustache

And your Aryan eye, bright blue.

Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You——

Not God but a swastika

So black no sky could squeak through.

Every woman adores a Fascist,

The boot in the face, the brute

Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,

In the picture I have of you,

A cleft in your chin instead of your foot

But no less a devil for that, no not

Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.

I was ten when they buried you.

At twenty I tried to die

And get back, back, back to you.

I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,

And they stuck me together with glue.

And then I knew what to do.

I made a model of you,

A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.

And I said I do, I do.

So daddy, I’m finally through.

The black telephone’s off at the root,

The voices just can’t worm through.

If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two——

The vampire who said he was you

And drank my blood for a year,

Seven years, if you want to know.

Daddy, you can lie back now.

There’s a stake in your fat black heart

And the villagers never liked you.

They are dancing and stamping on you.

They always knew it was you.

Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.

[losergendered]

hi. back w/ more reanimator/INK related genders :) /silly /bpd+autism

Requests for more INK genders being: gorture, kenochoric, allion, genderfreak, and genderloser, bitchgender/genderbitch

Requests for more Reanimator genders: vesil, gendervirtual/digital, bitchgender/genderbitch.

Gender systems for both Reanimator and Ice Nine Kills: gender corpse, gendervamp, -taroc gender system, -canis gender system, genderpearl, GENDERMALWARE, Gendercard, Retroxgender gendersystem, genderslasher, and gendermurderer*

(*Ik there are two versions of gendermurderer, so for less confusion I prefer the one made by @/acetrappolaswife)

all are posted, except reanimator vesil, since you requested that last time hehe (its posted here!) and the taroc, gendercard and retrox genders cause i didn't really have a ton of ideas for them </3 but everything else is posted!