#the ascending/descending symbolism of it all

[phantomrose96]

Hi just wanted to let you know I’ve been absolute obsessed with ABoT the last couple weeks. I could go on and on about it, but I just quickly wanted to say thank you and also I love how each main character has like a death motif related to them.

Like for Reigen it’s knives/stabbing. He constantly gets in knife fights. His hand was shredded like by “razor blades.” He helps Mob cut food with the intent to teach him it is how you use a tool that matters. He tries killing himself and Mogami with the knife.

For Ritsu, it’s obviously drowning. He has dreams of drowning, he is drowning in a whole lot of emotional stuff, he tried to drown Reigen. And the fountain is very important to him.

Teru I feel would be hanging, for the obvious stuff like being choked with his tie and trying to choke ritsu (which that chapter broke me btw read it like eight times)

Mob I am about unsure, but I feel like fire would be his symbol. The Mogami household where all his suffering stemmed from ‘burned down’ (twice). I can’t remember what chapter, but after he was being scolded by Mogami about saving Teru, there was a line like ‘a flame of hope burned in him.”

Anyway I just love literary analysis and symbolism. and I cannot tell you how much I love your fanfic. Keep up the great work! Thanks for writing!

(ABoT)

yessssssssssssssss the motifs. It just feels so right to attach a Thing to a Character which communicates something deeply thematic and personal about them.

Reigen and knives!!! Of course it has its roots in canon, with his key speech to Mob about how psychic powers are like knives, and they're not to be pointed at people. It felt only right to extrapolate that in ABoT. His career-ending encounter, at the very start which made him quit Spirits and Such, was a possessed man with a knife who assaulted Reigen and sliced his cheek (leaving a scar which is something of a key identifier of ABoT!Reigen).

The knife comes into play again during the Tetsugami encounter, when Mogami uses a knife to threaten to kill Tetsuo, and ends up slicing Reigen's hand with it. (And that hand-slice, of course, was foreshadowing for the hand-shredding in Reigen's future). And the second time Mogami possesses Tetsuo and comes for Reigen, the knife weapon returns with him.

And then... his big moment in ch45. The knife he brought along to kill himself (and Mogami possessing him). In a grandiose "we both go out on my terms" manner. During earlier mental planning of that moment, I'd toyed with the idea that Reigen came to the Mogami house with Tetsuo's (well, Haruki's) gun. It would be a more effective weapon to try to kill both himself and Mogami with. But thematically, it didn't resonate with me. It had to be the knife. It always had to be the knife.

(And it absolutely had to be the knife because, even more importantly, Reigen's attempt at self-sacrifice was not the solution. Thematically, it never could be. After all the thematic talk about how self-sacrifice hurts the people you leave behind, and you can't simply make yourself not matter to them--Reigen killing himself with the knife to stop Mogami could never work. Do not point your knives at people. Do not use knives to hurt people. Do not use knives to hurt yourself.)

Ritsu and drowning. This ties in deeply with the emotional toll he suffers as the surviving child--he feels smothered, he feels suffocated, he feels pressure from all sides to behave exactly as everyone needs him to behave...and he feels like he's drowning, and cannot speak up, and cannot breathe.

And his relationship with water manifests from this. "The water trick" being the thing he internalized from his brother, and manifests when his powers awaken. The way he uses cold water in chapter 7 to soothe and numb himself from his parents' rejection. The control of water being about all he has to use against Teru in chapter 15. The use of water to drown Reigen during their fight. The drowning in the storm that happens in ch41. The fountain, and the way he throws off Mob's water cover when Mob was trying to shield Ritsu from the barrier.

Teru's symbolism is a bit varied! He gets to be the first to play out the "tie as a noose" symbolism, which comes in strong later for Reigen (the evolution of Reigen's tie color symbolizing his emotional journey -- blue when he was alone, switched for white when he first has Mob, switched for pink as that emotional attachment grows, switched for blood-covered stand-in of a noose when Mogami takes his body... Reigen's tie evolving into Mogami's noose was a piece of symbolism I was eager to get to). But back on Teru--Ritsu strangling him with his tie was an inversion of Teru's canon role of strangling Mob... ...and then, of course, in chapter 33 where Teru gets to play this straight against Ritsu ("I think maybe you forgot, Kageyama, that you don’t need powers to do terrible things.") and he strangles Ritsu with his bare hands.

Burning, I'd say, is Mogami's domain. First with the illusion of the house burning down, and now with Reigen having actually set the corpse on fire. That thing of such coldness (as Mob emphasizes how much Reigen, and Reigen's place, are warm) being culled by Reigen setting it alight and making it burn to the ground. The kinds of cruel life in Mogami's house are the sort which need to be killed with fire. And see the importance for Mob here is how fire is a good thing in him. "Flame" is hope, and energy, and passion in his which four years trapped in the Mogami basement had robbed from him, and now Mob is finding again. Finding that warmth and that flame is an important aspect to taking down Mogami, to being part of what makes Mogami, and the house, burn down once and for all.

dkjdbfbjdf thank you for indulging me on this!!! the symbolism in ABoT is so very important to me I love when people pick up on it!!!

[kingdomoftyto]

Advent Calendar: Dec 14

Box #14! Our old friend the triangle box.

Today's a triple-set of blue d12! One is an ordinary d12, but the others have special characters: one has the signs of the Zodiac, and the other has symbols of the heavenly bodies in the solar system. 🟦♉🪐

Remember I’ll be tagging these posts as #Dicemas2022 for filtering purposes. :) Happy holidays!

[nihilityuniverse]

CREATOR | Genshin x FEM! Reader

In which, You, The Creator, descend onto Teyvat as a Human in disguise.

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost

Also available on Wattpad: Chapter 1

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Long, long ago, even before humans existed, our beloved Creator walked upon the land they had formed, accompanied by dragons and living harmoniously with their creations. Their mere presence caused bountiful fruits and vegetables to grow, and with each step they took, golden flowers blossomed.

As time passed and the first mortals and gods emerged on Teyvat, the Creator ascended to a higher plane, beyond the understanding of mortals and gods. Yet, their gaze never left Teyvat, always watching over their creation.

But then, without warning, the tranquil and pure presence vanished into thin air. The following day, disaster erupted across Teyvat, accompanied by numerous cataclysms. All living beings were left bewildered, not knowing what offense they had committed to warrant such a punishment from their Creator. This tragic event became an indelible mark in Teyvat's history.

In the present day, tales of our Creator are rarely spoken, and only a few ancient scripts remain to remember them. It seems as though humans have forgotten and abandoned the Creator, the memory of their grace fading into obscurity.

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Descending back onto the physical plane as a human felt both alien and exhilarating. The first gasp for air filled your lungs with a sharp, cool sensation, invigorating and strange after eons of ethereal existence. Each breath tasted of the earthy, ancient air of Teyvat, grounding you in a way you had almost forgotten.

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, taking in the dimly lit chamber. You found yourself back inside the old temple where you had once departed from this world, your first creation of both the planet and the universe it resided in.

The room was vast and ancient, with high, vaulted ceilings adorned with faded frescoes depicting the dawn of creation. The stone walls were etched with intricate runes and symbols, remnants of a time long past. Torches flickered softly in their sconces, casting dancing shadows that seemed to whisper secrets of the ages.

You were lying on top of a stone slab, the surface cold and unyielding beneath you. A simple white robe clothed your new form, its fabric coarse against your skin, yet comforting in its simplicity.

You raised your hands, watching eagerly as you moved each finger. The sensation was foreign, a mix of fascination and discomfort. The human body felt both fragile and potent, a vessel brimming with possibilities.

Attempting to stand, you found your legs unsteady, and you tumbled to the hard, cold ground with a soft thud. "Ugh..." you huffed, the sound escaping your lips, a blend of frustration and determination.

You tried to stand up, but your arms and legs were still shaking. You let out a sigh. 'This body is more fragile than I thought it would be...' you mused. 

Crafting this body had been a complex task, designed to contain a tiny fraction of your powers and your Consciousness while still maintaining a link to your true form in the higher plane.

With a surge of determination, you mustered your energy and stood up again. You managed a few unsteady steps before crashing against the stone door. Sweat dripped down your forehead, and you panted, feeling the strain of physical exertion for the first time in ages.

Bracing yourself against the cool, solid surface of the door, you took a moment to catch your breath. 

The temple was eerily silent, the only sounds being your labored breathing and the faint echo of distant memories.

You placed your hands on the old, heavy stone door, trying to push it open with every ounce of physical strength in your frail body. It was as if you were trying to move a mountain. Your muscles trembled with the effort, and despite your determination, the door remained stubbornly immobile.

Realizing the futility of brute force, you closed your eyes and placed your hand gently on the door. Focusing intently, you drew upon the small reservoir of power within you. A faint white light began to emanate from the palm of your hand, soft and ethereal. It tingled through your body, warm and invigorating, as if tiny sparks of energy danced beneath your skin.

Slowly, the heavy door began to open, not through physical effort, but as if invisible, imaginary threads were pulling it open from the other side. You could feel the ancient mechanisms responding to your power, groaning softly as they shifted. The door yielded, inch by inch, until it finally stood ajar, allowing a soft breeze to drift into the temple.

With wobbly legs, you walked outside and were greeted by a vast expanse of vibrant green stretching out before you. The sounds of birds chirping echoed in the distance, a symphony of life resonating through the forest. Your eyes widened with excitement as you hurriedly ventured deeper into the forest, mesmerized by its magical allure.

Each step you took landed on a bed of soft moss, the texture cushioning your feet like the most luxurious mattress. The sensation was soothing and delightful, a stark contrast to the hard stone of the temple. 

Above, a canopy of trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves creating a symphony of whispers. Sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow that danced around you in an enchanting display.

The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the earthy aroma of the forest floor. You took a deep breath, the freshness of the air invigorating you. The sounds of chirping birds and the distant babble of a stream created a soothing background melody, a gentle reminder of the life teeming around you.

Massive trees with trunks wide enough to house entire rooms rose majestically around you. Their leaves were an array of colors, from the deepest greens to shimmering golds, reflecting the sunlight in a magical display. The forest floor was dotted with flowers of every hue, some glowing faintly, adding to the breathtaking atmosphere.

You spun around in happiness, full of energy, as you took in the beautiful scenery. You had always gazed at the planets from afar, observing them and the mortals who inhabited them, but never being able to feel it, to live it. Now, you were here, a part of this vibrant world, experiencing its wonders firsthand.

Every moment in this new form felt like a gift, a chance to connect with the creation you had so lovingly crafted. The forest welcomed you with open arms, and for the first time in millennia, you felt truly alive.

As you ventured deeper into the forest, every flower, tree, and plant you passed seemed to bloom brighter and more lively than ever before. With each step you took, golden flowers blossomed in your trail, a testament to your presence.

You were filled with happiness, giggling in delight. 'So this is what feelings are like!' you thought.

In your true form, you had never experienced such sensations. Witnessing this firsthand was truly amazing! Creating a human body, a vessel capable of containing even a fraction of your essence, had been the most difficult part, especially after observing billions of humans from different planets and universes simultaneously.

Lost in the scenery, you suddenly tripped over a root and went rolling down a hill. "Woahh," you yelped, and before you realized it, you tumbled off a cliff.

The wind rushed past your face, your hair whipping wildly as you plummeted through the air. Time seemed to slow as you neared the water's surface, the crystal-clear lake shimmering beneath you.

You hit the water with a splash, the coldness enveloping you instantly. The shock of the cold water against your skin was invigorating, every nerve ending coming alive with the sensation. You sank momentarily, the water muffling all sound, creating a serene, otherworldly silence. The lake's clarity allowed you to see the sunbeams piercing through the water, creating dancing patterns of light.

As you resurfaced, you gasped for air, the coolness filling your lungs. You floated there for a moment, feeling the gentle sway of the water around you, the chill seeping into your bones but also refreshing you. The lake was a pristine, tranquil haven, the cold water a stark contrast to the warmth of the forest above.

You laughed, a joyous sound that echoed across the water. This was living, truly living, and the exhilaration of it all was beyond anything you had ever imagined. Every experience, every sensation, was a marvel, and you couldn't wait to see what other wonders this world had in store for you.

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Alhaitham, the current scribe of the Sumeru Akademiya, strode through the dense forest, searching for a very ancient ruin unknown to ordinary people and even the scholars.

This might seem an odd and unnecessary task for a scribe, yet Alhaitham justified it as part of his duty to document rare and important findings.

In Sumeru, the role of a scribe involves more than just classifying and archiving documents. The scribe is a key figure with access to vast and profound knowledge.

Alhaitham fits this role perfectly, possessing information unknown to most, and often comparable to the Grand Conservator. His privileged access to ancient texts has made him a repository of wisdom.

The reason for his solitary search lay in an old relic he had discovered, written in an ancient language and not recorded in the Akasha system.

The relic spoke of a sacred ruin where the Divine Creator had left Teyvat and ascended to a higher plane. Driven by his scholarly curiosity and desire to understand the world's underlying principles, Alhaitham was compelled to verify the existence of this ruin.

As he ventured deeper into the forest of Sumeru, he noticed flowers and plants blooming with an unusual brightness. Intrigued, he followed the path marked by these vibrant plants.

His light turquoise eyes fell upon a pair of golden flowers, their petals shimmering in the sunlight. He blinked, thinking it was an illusion, but as he stepped closer and touched the flowers, they felt real, their golden hue dazzling in the sun's rays.

"Golden flowers bloom in the trail of the Divine Creator's steps," Alhaitham recalled the old tale.

He gazed back at the brightly bloomed flora and then at the golden flowers. As he connected the dots, a sense of wonder and realization washed over him.

This finding...

A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. His usually composed demeanor wavered, his heart pounding with the weight of this revelation.

The Divine Creator... has finally descended.

The significance of what lay before him was overwhelming. These golden flowers, blooming so vividly and impossibly in his path, could only mean one thing.

The legend was not just a myth; it was unfolding right before his eyes. The Creator, whose presence had been absent for millennia, had returned to Teyvat.

Alhaitham's mind raced with questions and possibilities. What could this mean for Teyvat? For its people and gods? He felt a profound sense of duty to document and understand this momentous event.

But beyond his scholarly curiosity, a deeper desire stirred within him. The golden flowers only bloomed in the Creator's steps.

If he could follow this trail, he might find the Creator themselves. The thought was both exhilarating and daunting. To meet the being who had crafted this world was a prospect beyond his wildest dreams.

As he pressed on, the golden flowers continued to guide him, their radiant glow a beacon of hope and discovery. The forest seemed to part before him, welcoming him deeper into its mystical embrace.

He was on the path of the Divine Creator, and he was determined to see where it led.

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"You ask, what does the Creator look like?"

"Hahaha... my child, we do not know. According to the sacred texts, our Creator is shapeless or may take on different forms to our eyes. What is important is that all beings in Teyvat will recognize when our Creator has descended."

"You ask me how?"

"Oh, little Haitham, this is quite simple, especially for those who wield visions, for they will feel the presence unmistakably."

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Reblog if you like this story

[intynidad]

Would you mind writing about a yandere emperor who falls in love with a royal mage/sage who works for the empire?

I really enjoyed working on this request! I think it was a little longer than i was planning but i would love to continue exploring a more fantazy style world for my characters!!

Anyway here is what you asked!!

Yandere emperor x mage/sage reader

As you trailed behind your master, the esteemed sage of the kingdom, you couldn't help but feel dwarfed by the towering walls of the palace. Each step you took seemed small in comparison to the grandeur that surrounded you.

Your master had been summoned to attend a crucial meeting with the young emperor, who had recently ascended to the throne after the tragic loss of their mother, the late empress. The country was gripped by the ravages of a merciless plague, and the weight of responsibility rested heavily on the shoulders of the young ruler.

With each passing moment, the air seemed to grow heavier, carrying the weight of grief and uncertainty that plagued the nation. The palace, once a symbol of opulence and power, now held an air of somberness as it grappled with the aftermath of loss.

As you quickened your steps to keep up with your master's hurried pace, you couldn't help but wonder what role you would play in this meeting.

Your steps came to a halt as you stood before a towering door, its majestic presence adorned with glistening jewels and shimmering gold. The heavy doors slowly swung open, revealing a grand chamber bathed in soft light. As you stepped inside, your eyes fell upon a young man seated upon the magnificent throne, his regal demeanor exuding a mix of authority and youthfulness.

Your master, radiating confidence and wisdom, advanced with a steady stride towards the young emperor. Their years of knowledge and experience seemed to lend an air of respectability to the room, commanding attention and reverence. You, on the other hand, found yourself waddling nervously behind, feeling small and insignificant in the presence of such power.

The young emperor's gaze shifted from your master to you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. A momentary silence hung in the air, as if the weight of the world rested upon this encounter.

One thing you appreciated was the rule that the sages were the only people that didn't have to kneel when meeting a ruler, because you were sure that you would trip with your own feet if you tried to.

"Your majesty," your master began, their voice filled with a gentle yet commanding tone. "We have come in response to your personal summons, fully aware of the significance behind this audience."

The young emperor nodded solemnly, acknowledging the unspoken understanding between you all. The weight of the plague that ravaged the kingdom hung heavy in the air, an unspoken truth that reverberated within the depths of your being. Your mind brimmed with questions, thoughts swirling like a tempest, but caution held your tongue.

In that moment, as your master conversed with the emperor, your gaze met his fiery ruby eyes. It felt as if time stood still. The intensity in his gaze hinted at hidden depths, a soul burdened by the weight of responsibility and loss. There was something captivating about the way he held himself, an aura of strength and vulnerability intermingled.

“You may be wondering why i asked both of you to come here” the emperor said

“Me and my royal alchemist been working on an elixir to eliminate the plague once and for all, but we both lack the magic you sages poses to actually start producing it” the emperor looked at you “it should all work on theory, but without magic to start the process we are hand tied”

The emperor slowly started to descend the stairs, their eyes lock on you

“I know that i'm asking for a lot but please i implore that your apprentice stays in my kingdom as my royal mage and help me save my people”

Before you could speak your master put a hand on your back

“My apprentice will do their best”

With that your fate was seal, it was an honor to be able to work as a royal mage but being the royal mage of THE emperor was another level

Well this would be interesting…

————

Your magical abilities were no joke, the young emperor was more than impressed and with a few magic tricks and the alchemist abilities the plague was no longer around

But as the plague started to disappear something new was blossoming in the kingdom

The seed of love and the seeds of obsession…

The emperor started to notice small things about you, the way you said the magic word or how cute your focused face was when you studied your ancient book.

The emperor was walking towards your chambers with a fragrant rose in hand, his feelings were too much to bear and he needed to confess.

“Now that the plague is gone, what do you plan to do?” The emperor heard a voice coming from your chambers

“I don’t know…probably get back at my studies in the sage tower or something like that” the heart of the emperor sunk in realization.now that the plague was gone you had no other reason to stay in his kingdom.

“Maybe we could go together?, i mean only if you want too”

his despair quickly turned to anger as he recognized the voice of his alchemist responding in a flirtatious manner. The audacity of his own trusted alchemist making advances on you ignited a seething rage within the emperor. How dare they cross that line and attempt to pursue you?

He will not stand for it.

Quickly he went back to his own workshop, and there it was sitting on a small box…a virus

He never intendente to create it, it was an accident when he had tried to find a cure. Now it served a new propuse.

——

The relentless return of the plague had consumed your every waking moment, leaving you exhausted and desperate for a breakthrough.

A knock on your door shattered the silence, momentarily diverting your attention. Wearily, you called out, granting permission for the visitor to enter. The door creaked open, revealing a figure standing in the doorway.the emperor

“How are you doing my dear mage?”

“As good as one can do with this predicament your majesty”even though you two had grown close you still wouldn’t call him by his name

“I see” he looked at you with heart eyes, even though you looked exhausted “i brought you a cup of tea, i thought you needed a little rest”

“Thanks your majesty, but i shall not rest, not when the people of your kingdom are suffering”

Oh you will be an amazing ruler, so preoccupied for your future subjects. He can’t wait for when he finally has you.

“Since you send your royal alchemist away its been more difficult to advance”

A-yes that, to the rest of the kingdom the alchemist was send away to investigate new cures but he knew the true, he send them a way to keep them away from you

“Don’t worry my dear,as long as we had each other we will be okay”

How he wishes that you would look at him the same way he looked at you, but he needed to be cautious of his actions, after all he was powerless against you if you ever decided to reveal yourself against him. But it was okay, when he managed to have you whining under him he will be sure that you wouldn’t think about that kind of things

[galedekarios]

gale's evil ending: devnotes

this post will take a closer look at the devnotes for gale's evil ending. they aren't that revealing, most of it is exactly what is shown in the cinematic that goes along with it, but they do have some interesting tidbits.

synopsis

Avatar Gale has delcared his intention to destroy all gods. Using the token of Mystra he still has (her earring) he casts a spell upon the city of Baldur's Gate, 'awakening' them and inciting them to rid the city of religious worship. He opens a rift to the heavens and sets off to destroy the rest of the pantheon with his army of nautiloids in tow.

dialogue + devnotes

Narrator: *They bow before you, prayers and pleas mingling into a single, submissive drone. But you are not here to yoke them - you come to set them free.* devnote: Gale turns his back on the awestruck, kneeling crowd and spreads his arms wide, dark energy crackling around him as he begins to float upwards. Narrator: *The Absolute lies broken at your feet. The first god to fall - but not, perhaps, the last.* devnote: Short from behind Gale's back, upwards at the heavens. With a gesture, Gale splits the dark skies, opening a rift through which brilliant, otherworldly light spills. [TagCinematic]  devnote: As Gale ascends, he lifts a hand to his head. CLOSE UP as, almost idly, he carresses the earring gifted to him by Mystra - then unclasps it, allowing it to fall behind him as he rises with a fleet of nautiloids lining the way before him. [TagCinematic]  devnote: CLOSE-UP as we stay with the earring, tracing its path downwards as it begins to break up, fragmenting into streamers of blue Mystran magic. Almost gently, they descend upon the watching crowds. As the spell settles on them, they rise to their feet, and begin to riot. The streets roil with anarchy as the enraged mob tears down the tokens of the old religions - statues, clerics, and temples. [TagCinematic]  devnote: A single magial streamer (spelling?) settles on a statue of Mystra, facing gazing upwards, and runs down her cheek like a single tear - before the statue is torn down and broken upon the cobbles. Narrator: *The heavens are waiting. And you have work to do.* devnote: Final shot of the wide split in the heaves, a fleet of nautiloids preparing to pass through.

i found the devnotes interesting in so far as they confirm a few things i had been wondering:

the earring was indeed a gift from mystra to her newest chosen (it was touched on in an item description in idle champions as well, but i wasn't sure how trustworthy that information was)

The Chosen's Earring A symbol of Mystra's faith in me. Former faith, I suppose...

2. the earring was likely, in addition to being a symbol bestowed upon him by mystra, gale's spellcasting focus:

An arcane focus is a special item designed to channel the power of arcane spells. A sorcerer, warlock, or wizard can use such an item as a spellcasting focus.

they used to be relegated to being a hand-held object like a wand, staff, orb, or something of that nature, but the rules have been a bit more lax now and we do know that larian bends the lore (and sometimes breaks it) in bg3 as well. a chosen should not need one either, then again mystra did withdraw her favour.

either way, it makes sense why he would discard it in his evil ending, both as a statement for his newest goal (destroying the entire pantheon), as well as him no longer being in need of such a token, now instead using it and the magic it's imbued with to incite the people of baldur's gate to rally against the "old" gods.

[misstrashchan]

The Little Prince and the Ever After

So it was confirmed a while ago that Oscar's allusion is the Little Prince, which many Oscar fans and Rosegarden shippers in particular where theorising back in V6, with Oscar's crush on Ruby Rose being proof that she was the Rose that the Little Prince loved and cared for. Both @conehatcryptid and @chaikachi have written wonderful posts about Oscar's allusion to the Little Prince here and here.

However, after V9 I'm inclined to think both Ruby and Oscar interchangeably play the roles of the Little Prince and the Rose, in much a similar way that Blake and Yang both interchangeably are the Beauty and the Beast (Blake's surname means beautiful woman, and she likes to read like Belle, but she is also the Beast who wishes to redeem themselves, and is a literal Beast as a faunus "black the beast descends from shadows". Yang is introduced as the "yellow beauty burns gold" and wishes for a life of adventure like Belle, but she is also the Beast, being left by their Beauty and having a fiery temper).

This is in part theorising/speculation, as V9 obvious main allusion is Alice in Wonderland, and the similarities I see maybe coincidental, since both stories deal with similiar themes. Both stories have a child that travels to strange lands to meet characters that represent the misgivings and absurdity of adult society and the pressure to conform to these as you grow up, and the confusion as to who you are and should be that follows.

Alice's journey to adulthood is a path that takes her from a confused child changing size and unaware of her true identity to an assertive girl scolding the immaturity of the Mad Hatter and ends with Alice being brave and confident enough to confront the Queen of Hearts.

The Little Prince's story is about the importance of reconnecting with your inner child as an adult/someone growing up.

"No! I will grow up, but I'll never forget about being a child!"

In V9, Ruby must grow into an adult like Alice does, but also reconnect with her inner child as she does so like in the Little Prince.

RWBY is known for its multilayered literary allusions, and Oscar, the Little Prince, does introduce us to the story The Girl Who Fell Through the World in V8, which is Remnant's version of Alice in Wonderland. Not to mention Ruby and Oscar's arcs are intentionally foiled, so maybe it's not coincidence. It's entirely possible with how V9 also appears to be following the story of the Little Prince too. While Ruby is in the Ever After she travels through the different acres like the planets the Little Prince visits, meeting similar characters.

She is confronted with the question "what are you" on an existential level:

Little: What's wrong?

Ruby: Have you seen other people- humans- like me?

Little: Exactly like you?

Ruby: No, not exactly like me. We're similar, but different.

The Little Prince:

"Good morning" he said courteously.

"Good morning--Good morning--Good morning," answered the echo.

"Who are you?" said the little prince.

"Who are you-- Who are you-- Who are you?" answered the echo.

"Be my friends. I am all alone."

"I am all alone-- all alone--- all alone" answered the echo.

She meets Little (as in "Little Prince" as well as "Little Red Riding Hood" and "Alice Liddell") who is meant to symbolize Ruby's inner child, as the Little Prince reminds us of the inner child we have forgotten as we grow up. Both Ruby and Little "die" in a sense as the Little Prince does, but ascend and come back.

In fact the whole way ascension is described in the Ever After is on par with how the Little Prince and the Snake describe how they will leave their body as an empty shell behind to go back home, being "called back" home to the Tree.

"It'll look as if I'm dead and that won't be true, this body is simply an empty shell, I can't take it with me"

Purple Paper Pleaser: Then, the wisest of our village suggested breaking from our physical forms, so that the winds may carry us back to the Tree.

...Which leads me to how the Curious Cat and Neo are both the Snake who convince Ruby/the Little Prince to "die".

We get Cats and Snakes being linked together early on in the first episode of v9:

Mouse Leader: You have our sincerest apologies! Please understand that our kind is a bit skeptical of cats… and snakes… and cats.

This stuck out to me considering this is foreshadowing of the Curious Cat being the main antagonist of the volume, but we don't ever see any snakes in the Ever After.

The Curious Cat's first appearance is akin to the one of the snake in the Little Prince movie (2015) of two eyes peering out at the Prince

The Snake is a character who speaks in constant riddles and is confident they have all the answers to life's mysteries, similar to how the CC knows so much but is incredibly cryptic in how they speak. The snake is also meant to represent the inevitability of death, and part of the CC purpose is to help the inhabitants of Ever After to ascend, which is a process of death and rebirth.

Curious Cat: Mmmm, when we break or wear out or simply finish what we were made to do, we’re called back. But Herb… his heart was too weak to listen, so I gave him a little bit of mine.

Blake: Is he… dead?

Curious Cat: (chuckles) No, no! Well, maybe a little bit, but not at all.

When it comes to Neo being the Snake, she manifests her illusions of the Jabberwalker to terrorise RWBYJ after killing it, the one being capable of dealing permanent death to Ever Afterans.

She's also the one who offers their "poison" to the Little Prince, (the tea made from the leaves of the Tree) which they accept.

Additionally the way the Curious Cat enters Neo is like that of a snake slithering inside her. Once the snake bites someone, they are described as becoming an "empty shell", and the CC is looking for an empty human vessel to possess, while Neo wants to destroy Ruby and make her feel empty.

Curious Cat: You’ve lost something most important, haven’t you? And now you have nothing left. How delightful! An empty host, perfect for me to fill.

Neo-Torchwick: You don't deserve to die Red! You deserve to be broken down... torn apart... wiped from existence.

And when the Little Prince believes their Rose has perished (Penny) or will perish (Oscar), because of them, they give themselves over to the Snake completely.

But, Neo and the CC also play into the Fox allusion as well. The Curious Cat's ability to give his heart and understand others is similar to the Fox's sentiment in the book, who tells the Little Prince the importance of taming, and of looking with the heart:

"Now here is my secret. It is very simple. It is only with one's heart that one can see rightly. What is essential, is invisible to the eye."

"Men have forgotten this basic truth. But you must not forget it. For what you have tamed, you become responsible forever. You are responsible for your rose..."

Curious Cat: I know, Your Majesty, it truly isn’t fair. You must play your game and win at any cost. It must hurt your heart. Let me help.

Curious Cat: But Herb... his heart was too weak to listen, so I gave him a little bit of mine.

He "tames" the Red Prince in managing to calm him down from executing RWBY to just exiling them.

He helps Herb to "see with the heart" when he becomes blind to how he has stagnated and forgotten his purpose in being overwhelmed by his work.

The Fox is meant to show us the importance of the patience and compassion that is needed to understand and connect with others, to reach out to them. This is part of the CC purpose in the Ever After in fixing those who are broken, but becomes the negative declination of this in becoming manipulative over time. (like him "taming" the Hawker to make him do his bidding)

Neo is like the Fox in that she dislikes hunters (huntsman and huntresses) and she has lost the person who has tamed her, who was "unique to her in all the world" with Torchwick. Part of what escalates Ruby's conflict with her is that she does not take the time to understand and empathize with her:

Ruby: Is that seriously what this is all about? You still blame me for what happened to Torchwick?!

Neo-Roman growls

Ruby: If you’re looking for an apology, you’ve wasted your time!

and much like the Fox points out here:

"One only understands the things that one tames... Men have no more time to understand anything"

And that it is only when Ruby takes the time to understand Neo towards the end that shows how she has started to grow, to understand the importance of looking with the heart, the very first step of "taming".

"You must be very patient. First you will sit down at a distance from me-like that- in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye and say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstanding"

(...I believe this will continue on in Remnant with Mercury and later Cinder)

The idea of intertwined allusions of the Fox and Snake with the CC and Neo in V9 interests me. Because it makes me wonder if my theory/prediction on Emerald/Mercury both being the Fox to Oscar's Little Prince may not be entirely right, but that they will both be the Snake also. If they are it will likely be an inversion, with the Prince (Oscar, and maybe Ruby) helping the Fox (Emerald) realise the importance of "taming" (taming Mercury, specifically) while the Snake may play a more positive role in saving instead of killing.

After all, the baobab tree roots in the book are meant to consume and threaten to kill the rose if she is neglected too long, and while Ruby is consumed by the Tree in the Ever After that very much resembles the baobab, and she does "die" in a sense, the tree is a positive force that helps her to be reborn and grow into her true self. So, Emerald/Mercury could have a similar duality in alluding to the Fox and the Snake, capable of killing and saving the Little Prince.

@aspoonofsugar I think has mentioned Emerald's design resembling a snake puts me in mind of this, plus Mercury's main allusion being, well, the god Mercury, whose symbol is this:

A staff with wings and two snakes entwined around it. His emblem also features wings, and like a snake he technically has no legs (in a symbolic sense too, his lack of semblance and agency, the freedom to be his own person) Alchemically I believe the mercurial character is meant to shift between life and death also? So there is something there in how the Snake simultaneously saves and kills the Little Prince. (also this is me really really stretching here with my red string but. The Curious Cat. Like Mer-curius. Mercury. Both the Snake for Ruby and Oscar.)

Depending on your interpretation of the stories ending, the Little Prince ends up dead because of the Snake's bite, or the Snake genuinely helped him return home and be reunited with his Rose. Mercury/Hermes is said to be able to travel anywhere, any plane of existence without limitations, which has lead to theories of Mercury's semblance being flight or teleportation, which, well, in relation to the Snake aiding the Little Prince:

"I can carry you farther than any ship could take you," said the snake. He twined himself around the little prince's ankle, like a golden bracelet. "Whomever I touch, I send back to the earth from whence he came," the snake spoke again. "But you are innocent and true, and you come from a star . . ."

This is of course just me going off on another theory for funsies, but it would be interesting if Mercury was placed in between a choice of killing or saving the Little Prince and helping reunite him with his Rose. How Emerald and Mercury would save Oscar/help him and Ruby is unknowable. They could be save their life, help delay the merge, or just helping assure him of his own personhood and agency (this could be explored through how both Mercury and Oscar lack semblances relating to the "curses" placed on them in relation to their father figures), or something else entirely, but either way I'm pretty confident they'll have a significant role to play in the Vacuo arc.

I am aware most Rosegarden fans are mainly theorizing Tyrian as the Snake, (I've even seen some say Ruby is the Snake as well as the Rose, with a similar sentiment of the Snake being capable of saving/freeing the Little Prince, not killing him) especially since the first scene Oscar is introduced is him waking up from a nightmare following Tyrian being sent to capture Ruby Rose, as well as like, him being a venomous scorpion faunus present in the desert right now. But even that only makes me more certain in a way since Tyrian is meant to be Mercury's dark foil (and the antagonistic mercurius for Emerald/Mercury) accompanying him into the desert. So like, it Could Be Both.

Ruby also meets a King/Narcissist like in the Little Prince (the Red Prince). The Narcissist demands to be complimented and coddled, much like the Red Prince. The King is drawn wearing a crown too big for him (in the 2015 movie adaptation it is constantly crooked and threatening to slip off his head), similar to the Red Prince.

The King claims absolute authority, that what he says will happen if he orders it so. However this is untrue, as he will only order what will already happen. The Red Prince claims he always wins his games, but the board game he plays with RWBY is already in his favour as the pieces on their side throw the battle so he can claim victory. Both cheat and find loopholes in order to maintain their superiority over others. The King symbolizes rulers who make a big deal about the power they have, but who in actuality are pretty ineffective as rulers and will cheat and find loopholes to justify their power. It also mocks their grandiosity and showiness, which is kind of funny because they think they are way more important than they actually are, all of which fit with the Red Prince (...and with two other characters that were significant during the Atlas Arc *points at Ironwood and Cinder* even moreso after episode 3 of RWBY Beyond)

The Lamplighter, whose job on his tiny planet is to continuously light and snuff out the single lamp, but because the night and day cycle is so short he essentially never rests and is caught in this loop, always stuck working and nothing ever changing. Jaune as the Rusted Knight is stuck doing the same jobs everyday in a Sysiphus task of preventing the Paper Pleasers from ascending, and rests very little. He is also the Geographer, who maps out other planets but can never travel himself (because he is too busy drawing maps) and suggests to the Little Prince to visit Earth (the acres that Jaune maps out but has yet to properly explore because he can't leave the Paper Pleasers, is trying to find a way back to Remnant, their "Earth").

Another interpretation is the Lamplighter as the Caterpillar, who similarly has a neverending and thankless task of helping the Afterans ascend, and has stagnated as a result.

The Stars are not a character in the book perse, but they do come up a lot both in RWBY and in the Little Prince, especially when it comes to the theme of death and rebirth, and grief. In V9 in the Ever After we meet the Paper Pleasers (origami stars) that Jaune is desperately trying to stop from ascending, essentially keeping them trapped as he monitors them. There is a character in the Little Prince that obsessively monitors the stars and keeps them trapped, the Businessman. It is pointed out by the Little Prince that while the stars make him rich, the Businessman is of no real use to the stars.

In much the same way the Paper Pleasers do not need Jaune as much as he needs them to prove his own worth.

The climax of the Little Prince movie (2015) adaptation is the stars being freed from their entrapment, ascending into the sky, free from control, by the protagonist who is a young girl trying to break free of the expectations placed on her by adults as she grows up, is like one of the stars herself, rising into the sky.

The paper pleasers ascending, while initially seen as tragic, in actual fact allows them to grow and be more, and the Genial Gem that appears to once have been the Paper Pleaser called Ruby is the one who explains this process to WBYJ as they are worried about Ruby and how the process of ascension will affect her.

The Pilot is likely WBY, as for them Ruby is like a younger sibling to all of them who helps them reconnect with their inner child early on in the story, much like the Little Prince does for the Pilot. For Weiss, Ruby helps her connect with her inner warmth and heart. For Blake, she helps reignite her lost idealism. For Yang, she is her inner child to nuture, the one who lost her mother. The author Antoine Saint-Expury based the character of the Little Prince on his own younger brother who died, and that the Pilot as the narrator of the story is himself as an older sibling remembering and grieving for them. When WBY all watch Ruby drink the tea, it mirrors the scene where the Pilot watches the Little Prince give himself to the Snake, and is too late to intervene, particularly for Yang.

Their body disappears, and it is uncertain whether the Little Prince has died or found their way back home to their planet, and to their Rose. For Ruby, it is both. She dies and was reborn, literally reclaiming Crescent Rose and regaining her Rose emblem, she reunites with her Rose, her own sense of self. And in her ascension is able to come back to defeat the Curious Cat, and return home to Remnant with everyone. (coincidentally I think this is how Oscar's story will go, he will sacrifice himself to the Merge fully and "die" in a sense, momentarily, but return fully to himself later on, reuniting with both his sense of self and his Rose, Ruby Rose).

Oscar is also Ruby's Rose in a sense, someone she has tried to protect and care for. Even the pattern on the back of his outfit can be seen as the stem and thorns of a rose, like Ruby's hood can be seen as the petals of a rose. The Little Prince believes that if the Rose is left alone, then it will be his fault if they die:

“If some one loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and millions of stars, it is enough to make him happy just to look at the stars. He can say to himself, 'Somewhere, my flower is there...' But if the sheep eats the flower, in one moment all his stars will be darkened... And you think that is not important!"

"He could not say anything more. His words were choked by sobbing."

When Ruby cuts down an illusion of Oscar, killing him, it is foreshadowing that Ruby is afraid she will not be able to save Oscar from his fate. This is the final breaking point for her (along with Little's death) that leads to her drinking the tea.

...But as much as I am a Rosegarden shipper, it's actually her mother Summer Rose and Ruby's identity that is the main "Rose" to her Little Prince in V9 that she becomes separated and united with, imo.

She learns that their Rose (Summer, and themselves) are not uniquely one of a kind, but "like any other common rose" the same as all the other hunters represented through their weapons in the Tree with the blacksmith. Like the Little Prince in the Rosegarden:

"Good morning" said the roses.

The little prince gazed at them. They all looked like his flower. "Who are you?" he demanded, thunderstruck.

"We are roses" the roses said.

And he was overcome with sadness. His flower had told him that she was the only one of her kind in the whole universe. And here were five thousand of them, all alike, in one single garden! ... Then he went on with his reflections: "I thought that I was rich, with a flower that was unique in all the world, and all I had was a common rose."

Not in the sense of being a SEW who believes they are the only one of their kind, but that like her mother Summer Rose, or any other huntress or huntsman that has lived (represented through the weapons she looks at, and her saying they all have the same weight to them) she is not perfect, or unique in always knowing the right thing to do and being a flawless shining hero. Ruby thought the ideal of the hero Summer Rose she carried and tried to emulate was unique and special, what made her "rich" in the sense it defined her self worth, but she was a "common rose", a person, a human being, just like Ruby. Being like any other common rose means Summer is much like Ruby herself, just a person trying their best, with their own flaws and burdens to carry. Ruby leaves the Rose behind initially (gives up her Rose emblem that Summer left her, rejects Crescent Rose) and the pedestal she puts her on shatters, becoming disillusioned with Summer like the Little Prince does with his Rose, specifically after finding out that they lied.

Ruby: What? What was that? She… She lied. She left with Raven. Why would she…?

Blacksmith: Who knows why people keep the secrets they do. Maybe you’re not the only one who has felt the weight of other’s expectations. Like Alyx, like your mother.

What makes Summer unique to Ruby is not her being an ideal hero, but the love she had for her as a mother, and that in of itself is incredibly beautiful and powerful, because it helps her realise and affirm her self worth.

Summer: (voice) I love you…

Ruby turns to see the red glowing light behind her.

Summer: (voice) Just the way you are.

"Of course I love you," the rose said to him. "If you were not aware of it, it was my fault"

Much like the Little Prince learning and understanding that his Rose is unique to him, not because she is one of a kind, but because of their time shared together, loving and caring for one another. That it is our ties to people that makes us special and unique in the world, to the people we are connected to and choose to care for, more than any power or titles do. Which goes back to the source of Ruby's power as a Silver Eyed Warrior, her love and compassion of those around her. The true power of humanity.

[starastrologyy]

Astrology Observations

Uranus in the 6th house can indicate owning an exotic pet. The 6th house also represents pets and Uranus symbolizes all things unique and eccentric.

Pluto conjunct the Descendent of a solar return chart can indicate that you will be attracting a life-changing relationship or business partnership that year.

Something quite interesting I’ve observed about having your natal Venus conjunct your Ascendant is that it does not necessarily mean that you will be blessed with good looks (although you may very well be) It most often means that people find you like-able and graceful. People with their Venus conjunct Ascendant are generally well-liked by others. If they also have Mars or Pluto conjunct the ascendant this may not always be the case.

If you have your Mars conjunct your natal Lilith (black Moon) people may perceive you as being sexually promiscuous (even if this is not the case).

Something quite interesting about having Saturn conjunct Mars in a natal chart is that these people may struggle when in comes to expressing their anger. However, when they do it tends to be intense as they often repress many of their angry emotions until they erupt.

When you have Uranus transiting your 1st house you may make unexpected changes to your personality or physical appearance. Those around you will perceive you as being quite unpredictable or eccentric during this time.

If you have Neptune in your 9th house, you may be more susceptible to religious , philosophical or ideological manipulation. This is not because you are unintelligent, Neptune in our charts can show us where we tend to not always see things clearly.

If you have your own online business, you will likely see an increase in sales they year you have your solar return Jupiter in the 3rd or 11th house.

If you have the ruler of your midheaven placed in your 8th house you may work at a bank or in finance. Alternatively, you may work in the healing professions or in the occult.

It’s quite rare to find a Sagittarius Mars who hasn’t travelled abroad or had to travel frequently in their lives. (It is possible)

If you have Leo over your 5th house cusps you may be really well known for one of your hobbies or talents. In some cases there may be a lot of attention brought to your pregnancy (if you can have/want kids) or your children. Rihanna is a celebrity example of someone who has Leo on the 5th house cusp.

Something I’ve noticed with men who have Mars square Pluto in their natal charts is they tend to have really high sex drives. If this is not the case, they usually work out or participate in high impact sports such as rugby and football.

Couples who have easy (trine, sextile) aspects between Jupiter and Venus in their synastry tend to be very generous with each other. The generosity can also appear with the hard aspects. However, there may be a tendency to over-indulge or engage in risky behaviors together with the square or the opposition.

Interestingly, Venus opposite Moon in synastry actually works quite well. The opposition is known as a ‘hard aspect’. However, in this instance this aspect can create an “opposites attract” kind of dynamic. The dynamic between the two individuals is apt to be balanced and agreeable. However, if the couple has many other hard aspects between their planets, this aspect can increase the feelings of incompatibility between the two people.

[animehideout]

JJK Men Perfect First Date

Part 1

Who would you choose to go on a first date with?

Part 2 ✨

Nanami Kento : Beach Date

Nanami adores nature, so most likely he would take you to the beach, so both of you can enjoy the peace the beach brings.

You would start your date with a walk on the shoreline feeling the warm sand beneath your feet.

You would collect seashells that you'd keep forever as a symbol of your first date.

You came fully prepared with delicious food, snacks, refreshing drinks, a blanket to keep you warm in the evening and books.

You'd watch the waves roll in, the sound of the water brings you tranquility and encourages you to express your love.

You'd watch the sunset together, you sitting between his legs, your head on his chest as the blanket covers both of you.

He would whisper sweet nothings, play with your hair and reads you his favorite lines from his favorite books.

“Your touch is warm like sand, your love is deep like an ocean that I crave to understand”.

Gojo Satoru: Fancy dinner date

This man likes to show off on his first date, so of course he would spoil you and spend his money on you.

He would take you to an elegant restaurant with a modern architecture.

Would probably reserve the whole restaurant for both of you so you can enjoy your intimate time together without people being loud around you.

Your table would be adorned with red rose petals and scented candles that helps both of you relax.

The candles soft glow adds to the romantic touch.

The soft live music in the background adds to the experience making it unforgettable.

Would bring you a bouquet of roses with another expensive gift.

Satoru works hard for the first date impression, he wants you to fall head over heels for him.

“This bouquet of roses pales in comparison to the radiant beauty you exude”

Toji Fushiguro: Stargazing

Toji would admire the night sky and most importantly admire..you.

A blanket spread on the ground with some soft cushions so you can lay comfortably.

You'd lay your head on his chest while he lays on his back, his hand softly caressing yours as both of your eyes glued to the night sky.

To ward off the chilly night breeze, you'd bring with you some warm beverages.

A soft playlist of music instrumentals is playing in the background, taking you to another dimension.

You'd count starts, and give them names. If you're lucky enough you may witness a meteor shower.

Comfortable silence is cherished between both of you, just humming softly enjoying each other's company.

When you're in the mood to talk, you may share stories, myths or general opinion so you can get to know each other better.

You may share your first kiss as well.

You'd make a wish everytime you see a fallen star.

“As the star descends, my wish for our love to ascend to new heights reaching the edges of the universe”

Geto Suguru: Casual coffee date.

Nothing is better than a simple date that would bring you closer to each other without being overwhelmed.

The space is cozy and eases any initial temsions.

Geto would greet you with a warm big bear hug, that heals all of your stress.

Both of you would choose a corner booth, so you can get some privacy.

The corner is adorned with fairy lights and plants that makes the atmosphere more relaxed and cozy.

The aroma of freshly ground coffe beans envelops both of you.

As you sip your warm drinks, the conversation effortlessly flows.

You'd talk about everything, your interests , your experiences, you dreams and ambitions.

You'd exchange loving glances, and genuine smiles.

He may hold your hand as well and run his thumb on your soft skin.

“Your company is incredibly comforting, I already feel at ease around you”

[cupidastrology]

asteroid aphrodite 1388 and trines ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

you may read more into asteroid aphrodite and trines here on my post plus 💋

the symbol for trine(s) in the birth chart is: ⵠ .

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ ascendant - youre able to seduce anyone that you like through style, presence, and ability to move through room to room. people can't get enough of you, you're the beautiful goddess in the room.

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ descendant - you may experience periods of relationships and routines that are all about self care, practicing self love, and learning how to find your own sexuality. this is the aspect that invokes self healing with a mixture of seduction.

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ mc - youre well known to be especially seductive and sexy, learning in large ways to show off your easy chances at love. you can find a big following or overall reputation that highlights your ability to seduce and express love strongly.

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ ic - you may have many suitors from the start of life, welcoming a sense of beauty and grace by childhood friends and neighbors. people in your school or upbringing may have been drawn to you. the mother or family may have been a big influence on how you should act in places of beauty or attention.

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ sun ⵙ - people can't get you out of their mind, the way you express beauty and seduction is hard to duplicate. you may use your abilities or skills to entice lovers or suitors. it's important that insecurity never falls into the mind, people can sense your like/dislike in daily life.

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ moon ☽ - you are able to focus on brand new events and peoples with a grace, pulling in others through your own emotion. when you like someone or something, it is as if an aura glows around you. love spells, romantic meditations, or practices with romance may be best for you to understand what can keep you satisfied constantly.

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ mercury ☿ - your words can attract others or seduce them. the sound of your voice or the way you express various subjects can bring eyes to look to you constantly. you may have very romantic eyes or what you create with your hands becomes a pleasure for others to enjoy.

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ venus ︎ ♀︎ - you are able to attract the most love with partners and daily life enjoyments alike. there is so issue with bringing all to your heart, possessing the ability to seduce others. you may be able to really pull in richness into your life.

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ mars - you can mix the ability to act towards impulses and goals with a conviction that is admirable. you are always able to bring in a sense of love into your desires, into hard working projects. you can get others to do for you.

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ jupiter - your love can be felt in expansive and multiple ways. the more you learn on how to attract and seduce yourself, others, and desires in daily life you will have a sense of control that's unstoppable.

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ saturn - you may attract solemn and hard set connections and needs in your life. you may see that when you truly love, it all comes to you. a need to understand simplicity and even a dedicated view of love in your life is important in the end.

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ uranus - your love and ability to bring in sexual attraction can be found in the most unexpected ways. your views on events with less popularity or knowing is attractive to others. you may get what you want in weird or annoying ways that must always be researched into.

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ neptune - you know how to attract others in outstanding ways. the love of romance spells can be found here. you know how to get what you want, you know how to use visual imagery to gain your wants, and you may have dreams of others clearly.

asteroid aphrodite ⵠ pluto - love is a hard knock in life, and here you can bring in possessive and impactful forms of love that are unforgettable. you may be connected to forbidden forms of love or love that only god can bring.

[falloutnewvegastransedmygender]

Why does no one know how to play Caravan? Like it's not that hard.

First two cards determine if it is ascending or descending. First card played value (Ace is 1) to second card played value.

Can also play cards that are the same suit (matching symbols) as the second card currently in play in that row.

Kings 2x Value, multiplicative, ie. 2 Kings on a 6 is 24 total Value

Jacks removed a card and all face cards on it

Queens reverse order, Ascending to Descending or vice versa

Can play up to 3 Face Cards per Card

Each row opposes the opposite row

21-26 value range to hold the row, needs to be higher than opposing row

Need 2/3 rows at 21-26 to win, but all 3 rows must have at least one side at 21-26. [This is why sometimes you want to hold off on claiming a 21-26, because if you're opponent holds the other two that would be a win for them.]

Jokers are the only confusing bit. They remove all other cards [but not the card they were played on] with the same value. EXCEPT Aces, in which case they remove all of the same suit.

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 18: Unleashed

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 6.7k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

CW: Chapter gets dark - please be cautious

A howling tempest is whistling in your ears, muffling your ability to think clearly. A biting frost permeates your body, seeping into your bones and desiccating and fragmenting them. Although it’s agony, there is a peculiar pleasure in the descent into exile. The wraith strums a ghostly lullaby, like harpies enthralment, that encourages you to close your eyes and float away in the cyclone. 

Your lashes flutter as you resist the temptation to let your dimming eyes shut. Icy vines braid and curl up your spine and caress your brainstem, coercing you to allow yourself to be devoured. 

It sounds so easy, so serene, like the bottom of that dark lake where everything was wondrously still, still, still. 

It starts slow, snowflakes fluttering through the irises of your dying eyes, each one descending to your soul. The first flakes melt and sizzle like drops of water touching a hot surface, but the barrage increases, and the fire within cannot sustain the onslaught. 

Your very spirit is being doused, and it throbs as your psyche is pelted with sharp hail, chilling you to your very core and numbing you of your will to fight. The melody of violent winds, ice, and snow is rapturous, a perverted sonata that you long to get on your knees and recite. 

You want it to sweep you away, sedate you, and submerge you gently into that final eternal night. It promises to remedy the heavy emptiness, and you pine for the feeling of not feeling at all. There is no drowning it out, no resolve to struggle, and the glacier you’re tripping on has cracks. There are tears creeping out of your eyes, turning to ice pellets as they hail down your cheeks.

Yes! Yes! The voice warbles as everything goes dark. Let go.  

The crevice between your feet collapses, and you’re plunged into the frigid abyss. You fall down, down, down, until you find yourself in a barren whitescape with nothing but snow in all directions. Jagged icebergs the size of mountains jut impossibly high into the grey-blue sky and drift erratically with surreal speed, making them look like teeth trying to saw through the horizon. 

The cold is lethal as it forms ice crystals in your lungs when you try to breathe, and even though your breath is as cold as death itself, it billows in misty clouds when you exhale. You try to suppress the urge to breathe so the biting cold can’t nip at your throat, lungs, and nostrils, but it’s hard when your jaw quakes and you’re nearly crippled by shivers. 

You wade through the waist-deep snow in this hellish, frostbitten land. It’s difficult to form coherent thoughts as you feel yourself freezing to death. Your ability to move is quickly being confiscated as your limbs stiffen. Your skin is wind-burnt and blistering, cracking like dry firewood. 

You will die here, or perhaps you’re already dead — you do not know. 

An enormous shadow passes over the landscape, blotting out the meager light the dark, cloudy sky provides, but your neck will not crane to look up. 

The terrain shudders under your feet as something immense lands just out of sight. Powdery snow is belched into the air like a puff of wafting smoke. When was the last time you were able to blink? Your eyes cannot focus quite right. The muscles in your face strain to war against the thin layer of ice accumulated on your skin.

A looming figure takes shape in the snow drifts, coming toward you, making the ground under your feet tremble with every step. It seems to shake an iota of sense back into your senseless body, and you find yourself taking steps toward the silhouette. 

A dragon emerges from the squall; five chromatic heads in all colours rear up on regally serpentine necks to evaluate you. Their nostrils flare, shooting vapour into the air with every breath. The scales reflect the low light and appear almost prismatic, with strips of bluish-green, purple, and grey, glassy-smooth, running down the massive body and merging into a bronze that covers a long tail, tipped with a stinger. 

Each head moves individually, sinuously slithering through the air until each one is poised close to your body. They are massive, each with maws twice the size of your body and flaming eyes of all different colours that examine you intently. 

Their jaws open, revealing long, tapered teeth and forked tongues, and their hot breath wreathes you, dispersing the ice in your veins and biting frost in your muscles. 

Although the figure does not seem to speak, you hear an alluring voice in your head. It is bewitching and gently ethereal. “Do you know me, child of night and dragons?” 

Why you recognize the voice and why it soothes you is unclear, but it awakens your soul, sparking the white-hot blaze of your being roaring back to life with a vigour you have not felt for what feels like centuries. 

“Tiamat.”

The dragon’s lips pull back, baring her teeth in a viscous smile. She opens her mouth and blows her scalding breath over you. “You do not belong in this realm, night stalker.” 

The ice accumulated on your hair melts away, leaving it limp, wet, and sticking to your cheeks. Drops of water rain from your scalp, down your face, dripping off your lashes. 

“I am lost. He is lost. We are lost.” 

“Lost, thou say?” Timat’s laughter sounds like a celestial chorus that the stars themselves dance to. “Thou hast just been found. Wake, bloodkin, return to your realm, and seek the Lord of Lies. He shall hark thy plea.” 

Tiamat rears her scarlet-scaled head, unhinging her jaw like a snake, with the ominous white glow of Hellfire scintillating in her throat. You reflexively take a step backward, putting your hands up to shield yourself as the white, molten flames burst. 

Nothing survives Hellfire. 

Her voice serenades. “Burn bright, child of night, blood of dragons. 

The flames swim through the air with a crackle, enveloping you in a tornado of light so bright that you wonder if your eyes will be reduced to ash. You’re thrust off your feet, plunging you back into the abyssal depths you fell into, and careening directionless at an unfathomable pace. 

You see yourself floating in a black, bottomless netherworld. The impression of movement halts you horizontally above your lifeless shape. Wake up; you want to scream, but you do not have a voice.  

You must claw your way out of this watery grave.

Reaching toward yourself, you find that the other version of you mirrors your movements. Your fingers touch, and her eyes — your eyes — snap open and glow white. The Hellfire swirls around you both and flares out like ghostly, liquid flames in the shape of wings that curl around and fuse into you. 

In a rush, you’re shot like a meteor, rocketing through planes of existence and bending time itself. 

Your eyes flick open to see Rhapsody poised above your chest, the polished silver blades glinting in the candlelight. With a hard, inhumane scowl on his face, Astarion's lifeless eyes are fixed on you, the light obliterated by insanity. Rhapsody whistles through the air, plunging straight for your static heart. 

Something beckons you to wield it — something new yet ancient, both familiar and unknown. When you reach out and grasp it, a blinding light is released from you in a destructive shockwave. Astarion cries out, staggers back, and rubs his eyes furiously. 

“You petulant little shit!” He barks, his voice oozing revulsion and vitriol. “You will not leash me — you cannot leash me! I created you, and I will destroy you!” 

Try as you might, you cannot get your feet to move as your mind fails to construct a viable strategy. You will not survive a battle with him, and you can’t imagine you will get too far even if you flee. Astarion shakes his head, blinking rapidly. His eyes coast around the room, unfocused, and his arms reach out, fingers grasping blindly. 

He cannot see.

It’s only a matter of time before he heals, but it does give you a chance. You must make a decision quickly. Astarion cocks his head, growling like a feral animal with his lips pulled back in a snarl, trying to listen for your position. As soon as you move, he will be able to pinpoint your location. 

You know what you must do, but you don’t want to do it. Furthermore, you don’t know if you have time to do it before he regains his sight. 

Casting Misty Step, you bolt into your room, rifling through your drawers until you come across the scroll you need and stash it. Astarion is in the hall, and you quickly cast Gust of Wind to push him off balance and snatch Rhapsody from his grip before he has time to right himself. 

“Fool,” he snarls, spittle flying from his lips as he lunges toward you. “I need no implements to end you. I will tear your limbs from your body as easily as wings are torn from a fly.” 

You cringe at his tone — so cold, so unfeeling, so full of loathing. You sprint to the door, throwing it open and hurtling down the streets. Glancing back, you make sure Astarion is following you. His eyes remain aimless and restless in their sockets, and he moves erratically and only when he hears you. 

“Astarion!” You call out, making sure you’re far enough away that you have time to make it to the next target in this death race. 

He barrels toward your voice, fingers clawing through the air as you reappear at the next point, calling out again and again and again, keeping yourself always just out of reach, until the Crimson Palace looms out of the darkness. 

You sprint for it, throwing yourself through a window. The glass lacerates your skin, and you know you’ve made a mistake. Astarion scents the air and races toward you. You tense your muscles like Astarion has taught you, roll back onto your feet, and dash through the halls toward your target. 

Astarion is quickly gaining on you, hunting you through the halls with the finessed movements of an apex predator. His movements become more fluid, and you know he’s starting to get his sight back. 

You are running out of time. 

Veering left and hurling yourself down the steep staircase, you narrowly avoid his clutch. 

“Oh, I have missed this, my little treat,” he taunts. “Chasing you around these halls, teaching you all sorts of delightful lessons. Do you remember my lessons, pet? Oh, how I loved the way you screamed.” 

Of course, you remember his lessons vividly. The tortures and torments he subjected you to in the name of taming his unruly spawn, making you a perfect, pretty arm piece to dazzle and delight his opponents while he carried out his twisted ambitions.

And oh, how you screamed and begged for death. 

And oh, how he laughed and laughed and laughed. 

The corridor is like running headfirst into a dark tunnel with no light at the end. The air is musty, and the only sounds are your battering footsteps and the drumming of Astarion’s rapid heartbeat. Your eyes skip over the wall, searching for the invisible wall, and whirl, running through the illusion and into the dank, stone-brick room. 

The kennels.

Your prison stands empty and desolate — the cage he had constructed just for you.

He had been so proud of himself when he commissioned this cell to be built with its chains, restraints, and locks too complex to use Knock on. You swallow thickly, forcing the memories down as Astarion enters. 

“Ah,” he smiles menacingly, strolling in casually. “It’s good to be home. Isn’t it? I must say, I’m surprised that you would lead me here of all places. Did you miss my expert administration? I shall remedy that.” He tsks, clicking his tongue as if chastising a child. “I can deny you nothing, after all.” 

Luring him into the cell was an easy enough feat, but you’ve run out of time. Astarion can see, but by the way his eyes are narrowed, you don’t think completely. 

“Astarion.” Tears slip out of your eyes as your fears well up. “Please come back. Don’t make me do this.” 

He sneers with a wide, eerie Cheshire grin. “I am Astarion no longer, but you know that, don’t you? He drowns.” Astarion points to his head. “In here. I am devouring him, making him rot from the inside out until the pest is conveniently lost. I will exhaust his light. He slips away from you, even now.” 

You lash out with the Weave, casting Hold, but he dodges your attack with a fleet movement to the side and slams into you before you have time to recover. You’re thrown to your stomach on the stone floor, his boot pressed into your back, leaning his weight on you. 

“Stay,” he commands, and you’re immobilized as the compulsion branches out in your mind and twists through your muscles. You cannot see the self-satisfied smile on Astarion’s face, but it’s evident in his voice as he purrs. “Good girl.” 

Astarion leans down, grabs Rhapsody from your hand, and chuckles. “We could have had it all, love. Power, wealth, pleasure — if only you would have just fallen in line, been obedient, but you were always an obstinate little cunt, weren’t you?” 

Astarion lowers himself, sitting on your legs and squeezing your arms to your sides with his knees settled on either side of you. You cannot speak, and the only sounds that make it out of your mouth are strangled whimpers. 

The pointed tip of Rhapsody presses into your back, not yet hard enough to break through skin, and you think you know what’s coming. He will plunge the dagger into your heart.  

There would have been a time when your imminent demise would have brought you a sense of peace and relief. You’d sought an end to this nightmare often enough in the past year. Now, it’s only fear and the overwhelming feeling of failure that nestle in your chest. 

You try to conjure up happy memories. Astarion’s face lighting up in camp when you walked toward him, the walks through the forest in the dappled moonlight, the way he would slip into your tent and cuddle you when he thought you were fast asleep. 

You try to remember his eyes when he proposed, so vividly crimson, wistful, and happy. In that moment, you could have been just another madly in love couple. It all seemed so ordinary, so beautifully human, that you didn’t think about all that opposed the bright future he was offering.

I forgive you, you think, though the connection between you is sealed. I forgive you.

Thoughts move sluggishly through your head, as if getting caught on the sticky threads of spider webs. The cold metal bites into your skin. Slow and steady, Astarion carves into the flesh of your back with precise movements. The shock hits you first, realizing that he’s mimicking Cazador’s torture, and the pain soon follows. It feels obscure for a moment; your brain not able to conceptualize what’s happening. 

The shock wanes, and the sensation strikes with an intensity that makes you almost lose consciousness. Your limbs itch to scramble as your brain wails at your body to thrash. When your muscles don’t comply, everything swims around you as your psyche dissolves. 

“Ah-ah,” he tuts flatly as he focuses on the canvas before him. You can hear the blade cutting through your clothing, tearing and rending skin and muscles alike. “Stay with me, darling, and no going into shock either. I want you to feel the art of it.” 

Astarion’s compulsion takes hold, and you’re alert, all your nerves aroused and buzzing back to life at his behest. It is a mind-obliterating kind of torture. If you were able to writhe, you’re not even sure your body would, as you lose sight of the ability to consider how to get it to stop. A bone-deep nausea overwhelms you, and your mind is seized by the white-hot agony mutilating your flesh. 

He mumbles as he whittles away at your back. “I may not be the same man, but I do have most of his memories. Do you want to know a secret he keeps from you? Do you remember the first time we had sex in that forest? He loathed every second of it. Every one of your pretty little moans made him want to retch. It disgusted him — you disgusted him. How easy you were.”

The pain frays the edges of your mind as your husband, your lover, sketches a tapestry of heartache into you with his words and dagger. Every drag of the blade is like an artist's brushstroke, and your blood is the watercolour of his unspeakable masterpiece. 

“Oh my,” he croons with feigned empathy. “Wherever are my manners? You may speak, my love.” 

As soon as your lips are no longer stitched shut by his compulsion, an insensate wail erupts from your throat. It rebounds off the walls and echos, cutting through the silence like ghosts lamenting the torture this room has been witness to over the centuries. 

Astarion still talks, but his words are just another hum flowing over your ears but never sinking in. 

You don’t know what prompts you to laugh, but you do so bitterly and madly. Your own laughter is so hollow that, at first, you’re not sure if it is you until words start to form between the hysterical mirth. “I am fucking coming for you. I will defy the Gods to save him, and I cannot wait to make you choke on my light.” 

The dagger punctures deeper, through muscle and into bone, you’re quite sure, and another hoarse, harrowing cry is loosed from your lips. 

 “Yes, sing.” 

For me.

He’s said this to you many times in this room, a haunting mirror of Cazador, and you wait for him to finish, but nothing comes. The knife carving your back stills, and Astarion’s heartbeat goes from being steady and rhythmic to clattering with such intensity that you cannot tell if it’s skipping beats or beating so rapidly that the sound just merges into one thundering call. 

“Illyria?” The blade buried deep in your muscles begins to tremble, no longer the steady-handed glide, and you wince as it vacillates your raw nerves. It clatters to the floor abruptly. “By the Gods. What have I done?” 

Astarion throws himself off you, his back thudding into the back wall of the hellish cell so hard it knocks the breath from his lungs in a wheeze. The compulsion pales, receding from your mind, and your body shakes uncontrollably as shock starts to set in.  

Your mind wants to slip away, your eyesight blurred by the tears welled in your eyes that you were unable to shed without permission, but you force yourself to focus. The muscles in your arms tremble violently as you aim to push yourself up to your feet, but you only make it to your knees before the pain makes your body wrack, dry heaving between fitful sobs. 

A noise between a croak and a gasp hiccups from Astarion. When you look up at him, his eyes are wide with horror. His hand covers his mouth, and his still-flickering eyes brim with tears. You stare at him, wanting to speak and tell him it’s okay, but instead you ravenously take in every feature of your Astarion to try to rid yourself of the cold countenance of the man who flayed your back. Your eyes focus on every soft feature, on the lustre of those wide, mortified eyes and the rampant fear in them. 

You have not yet decided if you want to run from him or crawl into his arms, kiss him, hold him, and tell him everything will be okay, but his eyes still rock between dimness and lucidity. 

“Stay with me, Astarion,” you choke out, begging him not to go, but he doesn’t seem to hear you.

“Oh Gods. Oh Gods.” His voice breaks, cracking and tight with emotion. 

Astarion looks around frantically, and you see the recognition of this room, but also the confusion with the concrete walls and barred door surrounding him. He may never have seen this cage, or if he did, you imagine he would not know what purpose it served. 

He’s unsteady on his feet as he reaches for the shackles hanging from the wall and snaps them around his wrist, clicking each padlock into place with a hiss as the silver manacles burn his skin. 

“You have to get away from me. I will kill you. The darkness, I cannot walk away. I am—“ 

You see the moment he loses himself again, the flickering light in his eyes dying out like a cooling ember. You grab the dagger, stumble out of the cage, and slam the door closed. You remove the scroll from your pocket and unravel the parchment with shaking fingers, leaving bloody prints all along the edges. 

The incantation flows quickly, but precisely, off your tongue as you recite it. The words glow golden, float into the air, and the scroll vanishes. The blue-white shimmer of Arcane Lock encompasses the cell door. 

Astarion hauls on the restraints, testing their strength with a calculating look at the locks. The shackles are made for you, thick chains braided together to make sure you could not escape, and locks too complex for any spell. The silver in the manacles is meant to weaken, but there’s no knowing if it will affect him in the same way it did you. He observes the incandescence pulsing around the door. 

His deathly, cold eyes peer at you through the darkness. “Clever, clever girl. What’s to stop me from just compelling you to dispel it?”

“You’re welcome to try, but it won’t work. Only a Wizard has the ability to suppress this spell.” Your silver tongue lies perfectly and effortlessly. 

A silence stretches out between you for what feels like an eternity before he sinks into the darkness of the cell. His voice is unnerving. “It’s only a matter of time before I get free. Enjoy what little time remains of your life.” 

You nod curtly and stride out of the room. Closing the door to the kennels, you bolt through the halls to Astarion’s old study and pull out all the drawers until you find the ring of keys that he kept well away from you. You descend the stairs back down into the hall, terrified that you will see Astarion standing in the dark, but it remains empty. You shove keys shakily into the lock until one finally spins with a satisfying click. 

It’s a pointless endeavour. If Astarion escapes, he can break the door down, but it gives you some small sense of comfort to know there’s another barrier between you and that monster wearing Astarion’s face.  

You’re not sure what you will do if he gets curious and compels you to let him go. There was no time to plan quite that far in advance, but for now, he seems to have accepted that you cannot dispel it. 

You can do nothing but pray that his ignorance of the arcane arts still holds true. 

The walls themselves seem to brood at your presence and press in on you. You drop to your knees on the floor, and the open wounds on your back flood you with fresh agony with every movement. You would whimper, perhaps scream, but the thought of giving Astarion the satisfaction makes you grind your teeth and dive deep into the solitude and silence. 

The silver shackles burn your wrists and ankles and drain your strength. The rough stone blocks grate at the skin on your back like sandpaper, but at this point, it’s almost a welcome sensation.  

How long have you been shackled now? Weeks? Months? You cannot seem to keep your grip on reality these days. Sometimes you think you hear voices outside of your cage in the darkness. Seven thousand souls tell you that you deserve this, that you brought this upon yourself, and that you should rot in here for eternity as they will rot in the Hells. All true, true, true, you think, and you let it hurt until that too stops.  

Hunger has become an all-consuming, mind-numbing pain. Bloodlust is such a complex patchwork of sensations. It is a pain of pressure, of maturing, of constantly growing larger, larger, larger until your limbs cramp and jerk. You want nothing more than to die before your body can twist itself into excruciating positions and lock up on you, and even then, the hunger grows.  

You cannot die from starvation any longer. This pain will only ever increase. Every second, the burbling acid in your stomach seems to burn hotter in the pit, an agony that often makes you whimper and weep.  

At least you are not entirely alone. You can hear the bugs, feel them clambering against your naked skin. Sometimes they are light; others are heavier, with chitinous shells and legs that prick. They chitter and clatter their pincers together. Sometimes they bite between your toes, climb over your face, and through your hair. You don’t have the energy to brush them away, and so you don’t.

You have not yet decided if you might try eating them.

You haven’t moved — not so much as a twitch of a finger — in what must be weeks. It goes on and on and on until you’re very sure that this is all you will ever know for the rest of your immortal life. 

Hunger, pain, loneliness, and bugs.

And then you hear the lock click, and you squint your eyes against the dim light of the candle that is set just out of your reach. You smell brandy and rosemary, and your lower lip quivers. You bite it to stop it from giving away your emotions.

“Don’t do that.” Astarion says, “Is that how you want me to see you for the first time in weeks, pet? Weak?”  

Weeks… Is that all it’s been? It felt like years. 

You hate that you are relieved to see him, happy to hear the devil's voice, and smell home, even if this home burns down around you even now.  

Astarion grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forces you to look into his dead eyes. “I bet you’re starving. Hm?” He grins sadistically, turning it into a fake pout. “I do not like to see that look upon your face. Worry not. I’ve brought you dinner.”  

He twists and grabs a silver bucket, turning it over and letting a dead, decaying rat splat on the floor beside you. Your nose wrinkles at the smell of it. It’s been dead for some time, and you can see and hear the maggots writhing underneath its rotting pelt.  

But Gods, you are so hungry.  

When you don’t immediately go for the rat, Astarion grabs your restraints and tugs hard, making your raw, blistered wrist light ablaze, and you whimper. “What? Not good enough? You ungrateful bitch. I lived on this diet for two hundred years.”  

He kicks the rat forward. “Eat it. Now.”  

“Please,” you croak weakly. Your voice has not been used in a while, and it sounds odd in your ears. “Please, Astarion. Don’t do this. I’ll behave. I’ll do whatever you want, but please.”  

“I said.” Astarion grabs a fistful of your hair and shoves your face in the mushy corpse, rubbing your nose in it like a pup who has had an accident in the house. “Fucking eat it.”  

With its putrid guts already spread across your face, you sob as you bite down into it, your fangs sinking into fetid flesh and stinking muscles, and feed.  

It is worse than you thought it ever could be. Your mouth is filled with bits of congealed blood, but mostly puss and death and decay, and you swallow it down because you have no other choice.  

“Gods,” Astarion grunts with his lips curled in disgust. “Hush now. You are terribly ugly when you cry, darling.”  

You don’t dare trance and instead remain still and soundless, with only the pain igniting your being keeping you company. Fear keeps you rooted to the floor on your knees. Fear that if you leave, he will not be here when you return. Fear that if you dare move, he will strike from the shadows. Fear that you wasted too much time, and he is truly gone. 

Fear. Fear. Fear. 

Fear so sharp that you can feel it enclosing around you, squeezing the air from your lungs, making it feel incomprehensibly thin. Even though you do not need it, you try to gulp it down in shallow breaths, but there is no relief from the fear or the depravation that still strangles you.

You long to feel the connection with Astarion so you can stop feeling so boundlessly empty and alone. How easily you can get used to having another presence always at the back of your mind. It was comforting to know he was always there, nothing more than a thought or feeling away, but now that comfort too has been ripped away.  

Sometimes you think you feel him touching your mind, but the sensation is fickle, like the wings of an insect tickling with soft, fluttering whispers. 

There is no time to remain in this state of dejection, and yet you wallow in it. Perhaps you should not have told him, and this is your fault, but perhaps it was only a matter of time. 

Nothing good ever seems to last.

You need help, but anyone who aids you will be in grave peril. Getting to your feet is a monumental effort; the scabs of the raw mosaic on your back split and reopen anew. You wonder what he sculpted into your flesh. What scars will you carry for eternity? It’s not like you will ever be able to see them, but maybe that’s a blessing. 

You let yourself back into the kennels and force yourself to face him. There is a fleeting hope that when you light the candles, your husband's warm scarlet eyes will be what you see, but that, too, is another disappointment.  

Astarion’s eyes remain almost matte, like once-polished rubies forgotten and dulled by the patina of time. 

He sits on the floor, his arms resting on his bent knees, and watches you with a keenness that makes you shudder. You hold his stare. You will not be shy or meek. You cannot afford to show such weakness. 

“Why?” Your voice is hoarse, clipped, and unsteady. 

“Why what, pet?” 

You ask the question that’s been plaguing your mind since you walked out of this wretched place — since he allowed you to walk out of this place. “Why didn’t you kill me?” 

“Last night?” He snickers. “I wanted to hear your angelic cries once more before I—“ 

“No,” you bark, cutting him off. “Not last night. Why didn’t you kill me before? You had every opportunity. There was no one here to stop you.”

Astarion leans forward, making the chains rattle. There is a gleam in his eye, those perfect lips pulling back into a cruel smile. “Because I love you, of course.” 

You almost want to laugh, as if he’s just told you a hilarious joke, but there is a resoluteness in his voice, a matter-of-fact intonation, that tells you that this is a truth to some extent.  

Even this version of him, this soulless, fragmented rendition, loves you in his own twisted way. 

It also indicates what you fear most: that this monster before you is still Astarion, and the only thing that stands between your Astarion and this one is the tattered remains of whatever is left of his soul. 

If you fail in your quest and run out of time, this hateful, power-hungry savage will replace the man you knew. What would you do? Every atom of your being longs for him. If you cannot be his saviour, will you languish in the dark with him if only to keep him company? Would you be capable of hating him — killing him — if need be? 

You wish to believe yourself resilient enough to roll your betrayal, sadness, and anger into loathing to release you from this self-flagellating love, but you know you will never be able to. There is still a soft part of your heart harbouring hope that if you keep getting up every time he knocks you down, if you keep fighting, there might be a happy ending at the end of this cluster fuck. 

Or perhaps it is only your ending that awaits you at the finish line. 

“That was quite a fancy trick,” Astarion drones, tearing you away from your thoughts. “Blinding me.”

You don’t bother answering before leaving him alone, locking the door uselessly behind you once again, and making your way to the main floor of the palace. The dust has settled in a thick blanket on the furniture, with cobwebs stretching out in every corner and between the slender candles in their opulent candelabra. It makes the atmosphere of this palace of nightmares all the more foreboding. 

“Mizora!” You call out, knowing the cambion is ever watchful. 

The air heats, smelling of sulphur and brimstone, and the oily blot opens up on the floor. Mizora’s fluid form arises, wings unfurling with her usual flair. 

“That was quite the show last night.” She smirks with fangs peeking out of her lips. “Stupid, pet. Very stupid.” She sports a faux pout. “I thought you much wiser.” 

“I’m not interested in your chastisement.” You cross your arms and immediately regret the way your shoulder blades stretch your injured skin, bringing fresh tears to your eyes. “Tell Shadowheart to meet me here.” 

“What do I look like to you? A messenger pigeon?” Mizora tsks haughtily. 

“If you want me to kennel Mephistopheles, you’re going to do as requested.” 

Mizora huffs indignantly, stretching her wings out and jutting her chin up. You stare at her unyieldingly, not allowing your face to display your uncertainty, pain, or fear. 

“Fine. Fine.” She huffs, waggling her clawed fingers at you. “I will fetch your darling little Cleric.”

Once Mizora disperses, you head straight for the library. It’s one of the bigger rooms, lined with floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookcases that are brimming with all kinds of tomes and books, ranging in age from new to ancient. Your fingers and eyes flit over the titles as quickly as you can, looking for anything even remotely related to infernal contracts, deals with devils, the nine Hells themselves, or arch devils. 

The knock on the palace door makes you jump, and you are cautious as you make your way through the latticework of halls and corridors, trying to light candles as you go so that the palace is less oppressive.

Unsurprisingly, it does little to help. 

When you finally tug the door open, you stay carefully behind it because you’re not sure if your sun protection has been rescinded, and you’re not interested in finding out. Shadowheart is waiting with her armour and weapons, arms crossed, and tapping her foot in the way she does when she’s either irritated or worried. 

“You sent Mizora to fetch me? What in the blazing Hells is going on?” She strides into the palace, dropping her pack at her feet and putting her hands on her hips. “Why are we here, and where’s Astarion?” 

Once the heavy door is shut and locked, you come out of the shadows where you’ve been hiding it. Even though you try to swallow them, tears weep from your eyes. “Astarion is downstairs. He’s locked up in the kennels.” 

“Locked in the kennels?”

Shadowheart finally turns to look at you, and her stern expression vanishes. Her brows round, her eyes widen, and she pulls you into a hug, unaware of the wounds on your back. You wince as her arm folds over the barely healed lacerations. Shadowheart tries to jump away when she feels the cool wetness of your blood against her hand, but you mutter pleas to stay. 

Eventually, when the bloodlust threatens to overwhelm, you let Shadowheart go. She stares at her blood-dappled hands and back at you. 

“Show me.” She instructs, but you hesitate. You don’t want to show her this. She might not be able to forgive Astarion, and if that’s the case, she might be more likely to try and kill him than help you save him. “Turn around, Illyria.” 

You do so slowly, with your head hung in defeat. Shadowheart’s heartbeat increases, and she gasps. 

“By the Gods! Did he do this to you!? Did that monster finally show his true colours?!” 

“You don’t understand,” you say quietly. “It’s not his fault. It’s not him.” 

“We have to get you cleaned up, and then I’m going to fucking kill him.” 

“No!” You yell, grasping her forearms and falling to your knees to beg. "Please, before you make any judgments on him, hear me out. Please, Shadowheart.”

“I... Ugh. Fine. Take off your shirt. We have to clean your wounds. Do you have any clothes here?” 

“Astarion might,” you mutter. “I can go look up in his room for something.” 

Shadowheart helps you carefully pull your shirt off, but it seems almost melded to your body, and it peels off some of the formed scabs as well. You can feel the blood dribble down your back. It scents the air with a coppery perfume, which makes your bloodlust surge. 

Shadowheart is quiet while she works on patting your wounds as gently as she can, trying to clean them, and using her healing magic again and again and again.  

You don’t have the heart to tell her which blade these were made with and why they will not heal. 

“These are not healing well.” She comments, almost perplexed. 

“They will heal in time.” 

Shadowheart accompanies you to Astarion’s old room, and you pull out drawers only to find most of them empty. The various wardrobes are the same, but you do manage to find one shirt that still resides here, apparently not good enough to be packed and taken with the others.

His old camp shirt. 

You slip it on; at least the fabric is soft and does not get caught on your wounds. It is, of course, much too large for you and likely looks beyond ridiculous, but it’s something at least. 

“Tell me what’s going on,” Shadowheart says softly, her usual prickly demeanour nowhere to be seen.

So you do. You explain it all from top to bottom and back again. You tell Shadowheart about the way his mind sounds if you use Detect Thoughts; tell her about the version of him that lurks within; and about Mizora and Mephistopheles. 

You conveniently leave out the marriage proposal.

“Hells!” Shadowheart rubs her face. “I knew there was something we didn’t know about that godsforsaken Rite. Fuck. We were such fools. So the man in the kennels, the man that did that to you, is not Astarion?” 

 She means that you were a fool, but it matters not.

“He is Astarion,” you answer. “But he’s a version of Astarion that’s been corrupted. He’s not the Astarion we know.” 

“I want to see him - this version of him.” 

“It’s not a good idea.” You shake your head. “I don’t actually know how long it will hold him.” 

“How are we going to get our Astarion back?” Shadowheart says. “What’s brought him back before?” 

“Me,” you say, sitting and combing your fingers through your hair. “It’s usually me, but this time seems different. He came back for a moment, but he was gone again quickly.” 

“We’ll get him back, Illyria.” Shadowheart says it with a smile, but it’s forced. She squeezes your shoulder. “We will find a way, or he will.” 

You nod, “Until then, we need to learn everything we can about infernal contracts and how to negotiate them.” You rise from the chair with renewed determination. “I pulled some books from the library already. We can start there unless you know where to acquire more specific books.”

“What do you mean negotiate them?” Shadowheart retorts with her brows pinched. “Don’t we want to destroy the contract? I very much doubt Mephistopheles will be willing to renegotiate if it means putting a muzzle on him.” 

“Who said anything about Mephistopheles?” You grin wolfishly. “I’m going to negotiate new terms with the Lord of Lies.” 

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. Your support gives me the motivation to keep this fic going.

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

It's been a while since we’ve seen this version of Astarion... We need our Astarion back!

Tiamat - Real or hallucination?

Lord of Lies - Bad idea? Most likely...

Posting a day early because it's my birthday tomorrow, and I'm not sure how drunk I'll be by the end of the day 🤣

[talonabraxas]

THE 7-RUNGED LADDER OF THE MYSTERIES

A symbol of progressive advancement from a lower to a higher sphere, which is common to Freemasonry and to many, if not all, of the Ancient Mysteries. In each, generally, as in Freemasonry, the number of steps was seven.

LADDER, BRAHMANICAL

The symbolic ladder used in the Mysteries of Brahma has seven steps, symbolic of the seven worlds of the Indian universe. The lowest is the Earth; the second, the World of Coexistence; the third, Heaven; the fourth, the Middle World, or intermediate region between the lower and the upper worlds; the fifth, the World of Births, in which souls are born again; the sixth, the Mansion of the Blessed; and the seventh, or topmost round, the Sphere of Truth, the abode of Brahma, who is himself a symbol of the sun.

LADDER, QABALISTIC

The ladder of the Qabalists consists of the ten Sephirot, or Emanations, of Deity. The steps are in an ascending series: Kingdom, Foundation, Splendor, Firmness, Beauty, Justice, Mercy, Intelligence, Wisdom, and the Crown. This ladder forms the exception to the usual number of seven steps or rounds;

LADDER, MITHRAITIC

In the Persian Mysteries of Mithras, there is a ladder of seven rounds, the passage through them being symbolical of the soul's approach to perfection. These rounds are called gates, and in allusion to them, the candidate is made to pass through seven dark and winding caverns, which process is called the ascent of the ladder of perfection. Each of these caverns is representative of a world, or a state of existence, through which the soul must pass in its progress from the first world to the last, the World of Truth. The seven steps are further symbolized by the seven planets and the seven metals. Thus, beginning at the bottom, we have Saturn represented by lead, Venus by copper, Jupiter by tin, Mercury by qiucksilver, Mars by iron, the Moon by silver, and the Sun by gold; the whole being a symbol of the sidereal progress of the sun through the universe.

LADDER OF IZADOSH

This ladder, belonging to the advanced Degrees of Freemasonry, consists of the seven following steps, beginning at the bottom: Justice, Equity, Kindliness, Good Faith, Labor, Patience, and Intelligence or Wisdom. Its supports are love of God and love of our neighbor, and their totality constitute a symbolism of the devoir or duty of Knighthood and Freemasonry, the fulfillment of which is necessary to make a Perfect Knight and Perfect Freemason.

LADDER, ROSICRUCIAN

Among the symbols of the Rosicrucians is a ladder of seven steps standing on a globe of the earth, with an open Bible, Square and Compass resting on top. Between each of the steps is one of the following letters, beginning from the bottom: I. N. R. I. F. S. C., being the initials of Iesus, Nazarenus, Rex, Iudaeorum, Fides, Spes, Caritas. These words suggesting Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews, Faith, Hope, Charity. But a more recondite or hidden meaning is sometimes given to the first four letters (INRI - All of Nature is Renewed by Fire).

LADDER, SCANDINAVIAN

Doctor Oliver refers the symbolic ladder used in the Gothic Mysteries to the Yggrasil, or sacred ashtree. It retains the idea of an ascent from a lower to a higher sphere, which was common to all the mystical ladder systems. At its root lies the dragon of death; at its top are the eagle and hawk, the symbols of life.

LADDER, THEOLOGICAL

The symbolic ladder of the Masonic Mysteries refers to the ladder seen by Jacob in his vision, and consists, like all symbolical ladders, of seven rounds, alluding to the four cardinal and the three theological virtues: Temperance, Fortitude, Prudence, Justice, Faith, Hope, and Charity

LADDER, JACOB'S

While sleeping one night on the bare earth and a stone for his pillow, Jacob beheld the vision of a ladder, whose foot rested on the earth and whose top reached to heaven. Angels were continually ascending and descending upon it, and promised him the blessing of a numerous and happy posterity. This ladder, so remarkable in the history of the Jewish people, finds its analogue in all the ancient initiations. It is certain that the ladder as a symbol of moral and intellectual progress existed almost universally in antiquity, presenting itself either as a succession of steps, of gates, of Degrees, or in some other modified form. The number of the steps varied; although the favorite one appears to have been seven, in reference, apparently, to the mystical character almost everywhere given to that number. - An Encyclopedia of Freemasonary and its Kindred Sciences by Albert C. Mackey MD

[anmaje]

S&Co Sherlock recommended Vivaldi to John and I Lost My Mind

The fact that our Sherlock Holmes recommended Vivaldi to John so suddenly and apruptly is something SO personal! When I read a transcript of the mailbag episode (thank you @eardefenders ) I could NOT stop thinking about it, and have been listening to his many wonderful concertos since. I work in a church choir and am therefore somewhat classically trained, I have also played violin for many years as a child, and still do at times, so allow me to go on a geeky tirade about Antonio Vivaldi and Sherlock's understanding of John.

🎻🌱🌻🍂❄

In the second mailbag episode, a question is asked "If you could make a Spotify playlist for eachother of your own favourite songs, what would some of the highlights be [...] ?"

John answers with the rockband Elbow, who use orchestra and especially strings in their music. Which is why he recommends it to armature violinist Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock says that he would probably never make such a playlist, as he wouldn't find the task fulfilling, but he has an epiphany and IMMEDIATELY interrupts himself, not even finishing his sentence, and he simply says "Vivaldi". I have not heard the delivery of this line(cause I'm poor ✌), but the fact that the answer falls to him so suddenly and it simply MUST leave him immediately so John hears is delicious characterisation. Sherlock also answers with pop, as John likes popculture (a somewhat less personal answer, but still very considerate).

After another question it is established that Vivaldi isn't even a favourite of Sherlock's. He much prefers Mozart, Bach(I will come back to Bach) and Tchaikovsky.  Now Sherlock is a violinist, so there is no way he has escaped the genius of Antonio Vivaldi, like he's escaped pop. And so this recommendation is really because he feels John would like it.

But why does Sherlock think that? What would John Watson, a middle class everyman, like about Vivaldi?

Let me tell you:

When we analyse the symbolic meaning of instrumental classical(in this case baroque) music, we often look at the biography of the composer (Vivaldi gives us a little more to work with, which I will return to). I will start here. Antonio Vivaldi of Venice was taught the violin by his father and was ordained at 25 but didn't work as a priest for long due to illness. He instead became a violin teacher and composer. (Who else do we know that took up a very respected line of work but ended up where his father did? Why John Watson of course!) Vivaldi taught abandoned girls at an orphanage for more than 30 years, and saw immense potential in them and their education. The most talented of the girls stayed into adulthood as a part of their renowned orchestra and choir. He wrote most of his music for these girls and women to perform. He also took the talented singer Anna Tessiseri Giro and her sister under his wing, and Anna became his protégé. What a great guy! Supporting the talents of young women! Of course John would love him.

Going into Vivaldi's musical genius, we have to talk about baroque music. Vivaldi left a huge mark on the late baroque period. Especially the form of concertos which I won't bore you with (🤓), but also the general style of the period. That style is characterised by grand ornamentation (like the baroque in general), driving movement (in rythm) and contrast such as ascending and descending notes. All this produces beautiful an grand pieces. Additionally, Vivaldi used melodic  repetition(his critics say too much), which is what gets the new hit pop song stuck in our heads. Something our John is very prone to suffer under. Vivaldi also took a narrative approach to music. Not only through his many operas, but also in his concertos. Everyone knows his Four Seasons, whether you want to or not. He wrote four concertos, one for each season, and for each season there was an accompanying sonnet(which he presumably wrote). These concertos and sonnets depict both the gentleness and wrath of nature, all beautiful. But also people: herders, shepherds, drunk peasants celebrating the harvest and hunters. These are working people that Vivaldi chose to portray. John has a working class background, despite his social climb, he still shares most empathy with these people. Of course he would enjoy a celebration of their troubles and joys throughout the year.

Now back to Bach. A baroque man that Sherlock enjoys. The baroque ends with Bach, that is atleast what I've been taught. All of the period leads up to him. His complicated polyphonic(2 or more lines of melody at once) pieces are iconic and definitive of the period. And who inspired J. S. Bach? Well Vivaldi of course! Bach adapted several of Vivaldi's works and quoted him directly in his own compositions. Bach used bigger orchestras and different instruments (organ and harpsichord as he played them himself) and his works are generally more complicated than Vivaldi's Italian one-melody-centric works, but Bach is the metaphorical student! And Sherlock must absolutely be aware of this.

To me reading the mailbag episode, Sherlock started out uninterested, but the question had him think through his favourites. All complicated and very much not to John's tastes. But when thinking of Bach he went back to Vivaldi, which you must, and he is different. Vivaldi the sick priest, Vivaldi the teacher, the life long supporter of young womens' and abandoned girls' careers. Creative Vivaldi, Vivaldi the storyteller, which John is also. Vivaldi who celebrates nature and the dramatic lives of incredibly normal working people. Vivaldi and his repetitive melodies, although not in Sherlock's taste, fits John's so well. Vivaldi who inspired Bach. John who inspires Sherlock. ❤🎻

Tirade over! Thank you for reading. If you want to listen to some of Vivaldi's work I recommend The Four Seasons and a spot near a window with a suitable drink for the weather in your part of the world. For Bach you might want to look up whether your local church/music school holds concerts or similar events where Bach features, organ is a thousand times better live (if not, stick to his piano or string work).

[vertigoblockbuster]

☋☋ ☋ मघा Magha Nakshatra मघा ☋ ☋☋

Past lives, ominous, traveling inward

Hughes Merle's Mary Magdalene in the Cave, 1868. The reptilian arms are not part of the original painting.

The Basics Ruling planet: Ketu Ruling deity: Pitris Yoni: Male rat Symbol: Royal throne

Rahu and Ketu We can't talk about Ketu without talking about Rahu as well. Rahu and Ketu are referred to as the lunar nodes in astrology. They aren't physical objects in space like Jupiter or Saturn. They are calculated points. However, for ease of communication, Rahu and Ketu are often referred to as planets anyways.

The lunar nodes are determined by the orbits of the sun and the moon. The intersections of the orbits of the sun and moon as apparent from Earth tell us the position of the nodes at a given time. It takes about 18 months for the nodes to journey through a single zodiac sign and about two decades for them to cycle through all twelve.

Image from Wikipedia.

Since the nodes are located where the sun and moon overlap as seen from Earth, they are associated with eclipses. Rahu (the north, or ascending node) swallows the sun during a solar eclipse and Ketu (the south, or descending node) swallows the moon during a lunar eclipse. We can further assume that the nodes are always exactly 180° apart, or opposite to, one another. If the north node is in Sagittarius, for example, the south node will always be in Gemini.

The nodes in astrology deal with karmic destiny. The nature of your south node placement shows who you were in a past life, what you have previously mastered and now know in your bones to be true. Your north node placement shows what you are working towards in this life, what you strive to accomplish, the lessons you are here to master.

Rahu and Ketu In Mythology According to Vedic mythology, Rahu and Ketu started out as one being, a demonic serpent called a rakshasa. They were separated into two beings as punishment. During a ceremony to honor the planets, Lord Visnu churned up the oceans to create a divine nectar for them to drink and become immortal. When the planets (or deities) lined up to drink, the demon snuck under Visnu's nose to drink some of the nectar for himself. Rahu/Ketu had already ingested the immortal drink before they were caught in the act - becoming accidentally undying. Furious, Visnu beheaded the demon but at that point it was too late. Rahu (the demon's head) and Ketu (the body) become two entities and were cast to opposite ends of the sky.

A depiction of a rakshasa (demon) done in Yakshagana, a traditional style of theater prominent in southern India. Image from Wikipedia.

Rahu, being the head, is arguably more responsible for the separation of the demon into two parts. As the head, Rahu is consumptive by nature. This is why one's natal Rahu placement indicates what they are after in this life. The devouring head symbolizes our insatiable desire to obtain more and become more.

Rahu's willingness to ignore boundaries to obtain the immortal nectar is telling - he has no regard for authority. He is not much of a leader himself, more so interested in mocking those holding positions of power. In this way Rahu is hypocritical because he attacks the character and methodologies of those in power yet he himself demonstrates childishness and irreverence. When he is rendered a head without a body, he is left an eternal troublemaker.

When separated from his head, bodily Ketu is doomed to forever long for his other half - reminiscent of the past being the past, something we can never go back to and simultaneously can't shake the memory of. We master our Rahu and Ketu by connecting our heads with our bodies - that is, by balancing past with future, applying ancient knowledge stored in the body to achieve future-facing objectives the head seeks to fulfill.

"Ketu's permanent longing for wholeness is a consequence of Rahu's excited refusal to respect conventional boundaries. As a result of Rahu's wildness, Ketu the Dragon-Tail Cauda Draconis is forced to gaze with eternally unsatisfied longing at His dear severed partner Rahu the Dragon-Head Caput Draconis." - Barbara Pijan Lama, Vedic astrologer based in Portland, Oregon

A makeup look done by smeyuka on Instagram. Note the grey/smokey tone of the face and red emphasis added to the eyes.

In Phaladeepika, a classical Sanskrit text on Vedic astrology, Ketu is described like this:

"Ketu is fiercly red-eyed, is venom-tongued (speaking venomously), and without a body or disembodied, he is violent (using weapons, wants to scare), and ignoble (low, fallen, no social contribution, uncultured, wild, intense), his complexion is smokey (ominous), he is a constant smoke drinker (using opium or marijuana), his body is covered in scars (not cooperative), not fatty (emaciated, thin, angular), and cruel (unforgiving)."**

** what is in paranthases are notes on different ways the text can be translated. Watch Vic Dicara's videos on Rahu and Ketu.

Artistic rendition of Ketu/Kathoo in E.A. Rodrigues's The Complete Hindoo Pantheon. Image taken from Wikipedia.

Some people think that what we experience as eclipses are actually Rahu and Ketu taking revenge for their separation. Eclipses are times of sudden change - when the sun is obscured by the moon or vice versa, the atmosphere on Earth is very different. Having witnessed the total lunar eclipse of 2017, I remember things turning a grey/yellow/brown hue, and the air taking on a kind of hazy quality (but I believe this was due to wildfires). If you have ever seen the movie Enemy with Jake Gyllenhaal, it looked like that.

Still from Enemy (2013)

Here is a description of a solar eclipse by Dr. Rick Feinberg, astronomer and science communicator (now retired):

"Measurements made at recent total eclipses put the illuminance at totality around 5 lux, comparable to civil twilight. The sky is still some shade of silvery, purply blue. In contrast, the black sky on a night of full Moon is 10 times darker still, less than 0.5 lux. Yes, bright planets –– especially Venus and Jupiter –– are obvious in twilight, but stars? I don’t like to waste valuable time during totality looking for stars; the only time I saw one was on August 21, 2017, when 1st-magnitude Regulus glimmered just to the left of the totally eclipsed Sun.

It certainly feels like it gets as dark as night during the final minute before totality, but that’s just because your eyes haven’t had time to adjust. The changes in illumination at the beginning and end of totality happen much faster and more dramatically than at dusk and dawn, respectively."

Image of the 2019 solar eclipse above the European Southern Observatory in Chile, taken by Mahdi Zamani.

Non-dualism and the Ouroboros The nodes are inseparable opposites, both two and one - like how the past and future becoming one in the present. In this way they demonstrate the concept of non-duality. Non-dualism is a philosophical concept observed in many spiritual and religious traditions, particularly ones that originated in the East such as Buddhism, Hinduism, and Taoism. The non-dual perspective holds that there is no fundamental separation - between objects, energy, people... it's all one.

“All things are permeated with God, just as all things are permeated with air.” – Hildegard of Bingen

Ketu's rulership over Magha suggests that people with heavy influence from this nakshatra in their birthchart are deeply spiritual and/or philosophical. If you think about Rahu and Ketu as being an axis - that is, talking about the same topics but having opposite opinions on them - Rahu expands outwards, forever seeking to consume and grow materially. Ketu expands internally. The expansion of Ketu looks like material poverty from the outside, but Ketu is not interested in earthly objectives. Rahu wants to grasp and Ketu wants to release. By releasing attachment to the physical, Ketu finds bliss.

Rahu's knowing is of the head. It is entirely cerebral. Ketu's knowing is bodily. That is, it is completely intuitive and feeling/sensory-based. In the world we live in, computational and logical thinking is (for better or worse) king. For this reason, if you have prominent Magha placements, I wouldn't be surprised if you feel like you either 1) don't belong in this world or 2) have been here before, perhaps many times over. Ketu, symbolizing past lives and knowledge gained from them, wanders the earth, aimless, forever drifting. He finds nothing on earth to be of substance.

While Ketu-heavy or Magha-heavy people can possess deep inner knowing that endows them with a certain type of respect, this same trait can be the source of an overly apathetic attitude when taken to an extreme. Detachment is all well and good, but unless you're truly the type to pursue a monastic or nomadic path, it's necessary to keep your feet on the ground at least a little bit to live in a well-rounded way. Ketu people are faced with a challenge to ground their intuitive knowledge and bring what they find on their travels inward out to the world around them.

One symbol that is steeped in unity and oneness is the ouroboros. Depicting a serpent or dragon devouring it's own tail, the ouroboros has appeared in ancient Egypt, Mexico, India, as well as Hermetic and Alchemical texts. The serpent chases its continually regenerating tail in an eternal circle, just as Rahu and Ketu are condemned to chase one another from opposite ends of the sky forever.

Two ouroboros symbols shown encircling a figure in An Enigmatic Book of the Underworld, funerary text and shrine discovered in King Tutankhamun's tomb. The figure has been speculated to be the mummified form of King Tut himself, while some think it is the unification of Ra and Osiris.

An Enigmatic Book of the Underworld is regarded as the place of the first appearance of the ouroboros, dating it to at least 14th century BCE. It is thought that the book illustrates the replenishing of the solar disc - the ancient Egyptians believed that the sun would use up all of it's heat and energy during the day and had to 'recharge' at night. At night, the Sun was said to pass through the same region of death where the gods were believed to reside. Their souls would follow the Sun as he cycled above and below the horizon while their bodies remained in the underworld. Time was seen as cyclical repetitions rather than a linear unfolding. The ancient Egyptian's understanding of time was based on their observations of recurring natural events like the Sun's daily journey across the sky and the annual flooding of the Nile.

An illustration of the ouroboros in an alchemical text from around 400AD.

The Alchemists believed that all physical materials on Earth originated from the same original source material and could be differentiated by their varying levels of purity. Gold was held as the most pure and 'perfect' form of matter, which is why the Alchemists sought to create it using lower quality metals such as lead - a process called chrysopoeia. The desire to create gold from crude materials that is central to Alchemy is largely metaphorical. The broader goal of the Alchemists was to evolve the human soul through deepening the understanding of one's self. The ultimate objective of alchemy was to transform personally into someone 'greater' than you were before. More knowledgeable, powerful, physically healthy or beautiful...

The Pitris The deities ruling Magha are the Pitris, spirits of the paternal ancestors of humanity - the word 'pitris' is Sanskrit for "fathers."

The word Magha can mean gift or it can mean power. As it relates to Magha nakshatra, it means gifted power - that is, inherited power. Each nakshatra has it's own associated sutra, which are kind of like condensed teachings. The translated sutra for Magha is "The forefather's gift of power needs demoralization, to ruin."

Vic Dicara explains the lesson of Magha nakshatra as illustrated in it's sutra - how to be victorious without getting wounded. The sutra for Magha is saying that the way to defeat your enemies is to prevent the battle from happening in the first place. And how do you do that? By bullying them, basically. Magha natives have the power of the forefathers (Pitris) behind them, which they brandish and threaten their potential opponents with. Before a single punch has been thrown Magha puffs out his chest, letting his opponent know that he has friends on the other side backing him up - think Dr. Facilier from the Princess and the Frog.

Magha's Yoni: the Male Rat The word "yoni" in Sanskrit refers to the vagina. The word can be used to refer literally to female genitalia, but it also has a deeper meaning relating to source material - the empty 'womb' out of which the universe materialized.

Each nakshatra has a corresponding yoni assigned to it. The yonis of the nakshatras describe their primal and sexual nature - how they behave when backed into a corner and the different ways they behave in the bedroom. In the vedic astrological system, the yonis are depicted as different types of animals - appropriate, considering the aspects of the human personality they attempt to describe and categorize.

Magha's yoni animal is a rat. Rats are inquisitive, playful and sociable by nature. They are intelligent and, as pets, trainable. They are hygienic, keeping themselves clean by grooming their tails, fur, and faces. They also do everything quickly - I've never seen a rat move in a leisurely way.

Rats are venerated at the Karni Mata temple in Deshnoke, India. Large saucers of milk are left out to keep them fed. The temple is a monument honoring the coexistence of life in every form - which is why rats are treated reverence here rather than seen as pests. Image by Paolo Bampani.

The rat signifying the primal nature of this nakshatra suggests a few things. We can easily surmise that Magha people are curious, likely quick-witted due to an above-average intelligence, and energetic. We can also guess that Magha people are adaptable - think about the poor conditions rats are able to survive in. An additional quality of rats which I think relates to Magha is their use of their whiskers to both balance themselves and maneuver around objects in their environment - they don't have the best eyesight and rely heavily on the sensitivity of their wire-y mustaches. This hearkens to Magha's bodily, ketuvian intelligence.

At first, the personality of the light-footed and friendly rat seems to clash with the ancient wisdom Magha has. When I think of someone in touch with their forefathers and past lives, I think of someone who moves slowly (literally and metaphorically), approaching and completing all tasks with patience, precision, and caution. The good-natured and hyperactive qualities of the rat combined with Magha's connection to protective (paternal) ancestors, dispersing and wandering ways of Ketu, and transforming power of the eclipse paints a particular personality profile. This is a person who has their head in the clouds and could rip you to shreds - if you provoke them first.

The Symbol of the Royal Throne Magha is considered to be an auspicious nakshatra - that is, it brings positive things to whatever planet is placed here. The rulership of the Pitris over Magha cements their innate power. It is one thing to be a powerful person because of the things you have accomplished, but when someone is powerful because of their ancestors has royalty in their blood. It can never, ever be taken from them because it is simply who they are.

Magha spans 0°00' to 13°20' Leo. Leo is the most regal and royal of all twelve zodiac signs. The most common gripe people have with Leo's is their pride and self-centered attitude. The thing is is that Leo is ruled by the Sun - the literal center of our solar system. Resenting a Leo for shining is like disliking the Sun for burning. Of course, egotism has the potential to run rampant if a Leo person has not matured very much, which is the shadow side of this sign. Oftentimes, though, you will find that the warm, glowing self-sureness of Leo's triggers the insecurities in those around them, causing them to lash out.

The Iron Throne from Game of Thrones.

The symbolism of the throne for Magha should come as no surprise. Those who sit and have sat in thrones throughout history were usually born into that role as opposed to being appointed - bringing us back to the ancestral power brought on by Magha's connection to the Pitris.

Song for Magha: You Don't Mess Around with Jim by Jim Croce And they say... You don't tug on Superman's cape You don't spit into the wind You don't pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger And you don't mess around with Jim

This song talks about a local legend who's reputation precedes him. It is known so well that you don't cross him that doing so would be as obviously foolish as spitting into the wind. While Jim, the menacing figure the song centers around, is described as being big and dumb - traits that aren't as applicable to Magha - his reputation as someone you don't want to mess with fits perfectly with the power of this nakshatra. Jim, just like Magha, has won the fight before it started because you're probably too intimidated to approach him in the first place. Maybe Jim had the Pitris backing him up, too.

-------

Check out Vic Dicara and Claire Nakti on YouTube - both influential figures in the vedic astrological community.

[ivycova]

Inanna/Ishtar/Persephone= Galadriel parallel

I’ve wanted to write this note for a while and draw some parallels that I find interesting. Of course, these are just my own speculations, but if anyone finds it intriguing, feel free to comment and share your thoughts!

Overview of Inanna’s Descent

The tale of *Inanna* is one of the world’s oldest myths, found in Sumerian texts, and it holds deep symbolism related to duality, transformation, and feminine power. Inanna’s descent into the Underworld mirrors the journey of Persephone but offers a unique view of the feminine psyche's journey through light and darkness, which aligns with the concepts of inner transformation, balance, and integration.

Inanna, the goddess of love, fertility, and war, decides to descend into the Underworld, which is ruled by her sister, Ereshkigal, the goddess of death and the afterlife. Inanna’s descent is voluntary; she chooses to leave her realm of light, beauty, and power to journey into a realm of darkness and death. However, her descent has grave consequences. 

As she passes through the seven gates of the Underworld, she is stripped of her royal garments and symbols of power at each stage until she stands naked and vulnerable before Ereshkigal. This loss of identity is a symbolic death—Inanna loses everything that defined her, including her ego and attachments.

Ereshkigal kills Inanna and hangs her body on a hook, a symbol of complete surrender and stillness.

Inanna eventually returns to life and ascends back to the upper world, but her rebirth is conditional: she must send someone in her place to balance her return. She ultimately chooses her husband, Dumuzi,

For those who searching for the place in RoP for the poor guy Celeborne lol))

who will alternate time in the Underworld with her. This final exchange sets up a cycle of descent and return, symbolizing life’s rhythms of death and rebirth.

Inanna’s Dual Nature and Integration of Opposites

Inanna’s story illustrates the power of duality within the feminine psyche, as she is both a goddess of life (love and fertility) and a figure who intimately engages with death.

The Descent as Transformation

Inanna’s descent is a powerful metaphor for transformation. By entering the Underworld, she experiences the death of her old self, and through this death, she is reborn with greater wisdom. In psychological terms, this represents the necessity of facing and integrating the shadow self—the aspects of our personality that are often suppressed or hidden. Just as Inanna is stripped of her powers, the psyche must let go of ego-driven illusions to attain true self-knowledge.

Integration of Light and Dark

Inanna embodies light, fertility, and joy, while Ereshkigal embodies darkness, grief, and death. The two sisters represent opposing forces within the psyche that must be reconciled. This integration mirrors Jung’s idea of *individuation*, where a person must integrate all parts of the self—both the light and the shadow—to achieve wholeness. Ereshkigal’s role as the “dark twin” of Inanna reveals that acknowledging and accepting our darker aspects can lead to psychological growth and maturity.

Feminine Duality

Inanna’s role as both a goddess of life and a willing participant in death highlights the duality inherent in the. This dual role resonates with the Jungian concept of the *anima* as both nurturing and powerful, capable of mediating between consciousness and the unconscious.

Cycle of Death and Rebirth

Inanna’s descent and return mirror the natural cycles of the earth, much like the seasonal myth of Persephone. Her journey suggests that to be truly alive and self-aware, one must repeatedly confront and integrate the “deaths” that life demands. Every descent—each loss, each challenge—can ultimately lead to a greater sense of life. This cycle reflects the psyche’s constant process of dying to old patterns to allow for new growth.

Parallels with Persephone and Depth Psychology

The journey of Inanna, like Persephone’s, speaks to the necessity of darkness in understanding the light. Both figures must confront the depths of the unconscious to achieve self-realization, and both are transformed by their journeys. However, where Persephone is taken to the Underworld, Inanna goes willingly, embodying the idea that personal growth often requires an active choice to face our shadow and vulnerabilities.

Like we see it's not where the Galadriel end in the season 2 × 8 because she's still have to do it, but not do it willingly). For me she's in a really Persephone role right now. Kidnapped and forced to *touch* the darkness, confused and leave alone there.

In *depth psychology*, this journey reflects the process of confronting buried emotions, traumas, and fears, often necessary for self-acceptance and personal evolution.

Sauron in the darkness and light parallel.

More specifically about this I write in the next article, because this one is already to be too long..

Can only add that there is a really curious parallel between Sauron like a Deonis and Sauron like Apollo the god of light.

The myth also aligns with Nietzsche’s concept of *Apollonian* and *Dionysian* forces: Inanna represents the vibrant, Apollonian force of life and beauty, while her journey into Ereshkigal’s realm requires a Dionysian surrender to chaos and darkness. By integrating these forces, Inanna achieves a new level of insight and wisdom.

Archetypal Themes in Human Psychology

Inanna’s myth offers timeless lessons that resonate within the human psyche:

Facing the Shadow

Inanna’s willingness to confront Ereshkigal reflects the courage needed to face one’s shadow, a Jungian process in which an individual recognizes and integrates darker aspects of the self. This confrontation with Ereshkigal represents the necessary challenges and “deaths” (of ego, expectations, etc.) on the path to self-discovery.

The Feminine as Mediator

Inanna, like Persephone, serves as a bridge between the world of the living and the Underworld, symbolizing the power of the feminine to navigate the boundary between light and dark. In many myths, the feminine archetype embodies transformation, sensitivity, and the potential for rebirth. By embracing this role, Inanna exemplifies the strength found in vulnerability, empathy, and emotional openness.

Duality as a Path to Wholeness

The descent into darkness and return to light illustrates the duality of the human experience. Growth often requires acknowledging one’s limitations and fears. Inanna’s journey suggests that inner peace and self-awareness come not from resisting this duality but by embracing it. But on this part of her journey, Galadriel know this just from the words she heard from her brother, not from her personal experience. She saw the darkness, the evil, but can't accept it, can't embrace it in herself, because she's scared to be dominated by it.

Integration of Life and Death

By embodying both life and death, Inanna teaches that the path to fulfillment requires us to recognize that creation and destruction, joy and sorrow, are intertwined. This duality is a core experience within the psyche and in life itself.

My thoughts about all this..

In a legend, Inanna/Ishtar represents the union of opposites, like order and chaos, male and female, war and peace. When she's present, a low man can become a king, and a king might feel what it’s like to be a low man. A wise person can act foolishly, and a fool might feel wise. She balances the world’s tension and opposites, blurring the lines of what’s allowed and accepted in society.

Galadriel final transformation in to a *Forest Wich* plays a similar role—a mediator or bridge—showing contradictory visions and avoiding exact predictions. She moves cautiously, respecting human free will and choice.

And I think it would be really a good source for inspiration for the next seasons of RoP where Galadriel really can endure and dive deeper into her magical forces that she discovered by touching this *dark side* of herself, integrate without fear of losing control over herself.

And especially it can turns to be really hot for the shippers, because actually follow the legend of Inanna and the Persephone we know that she was bite to the darkness in the way that she have to spend there half of the year in order to come back,( or maybe leave her husband like a hostage lol) and this journey became cyclical.

The connection must be maintained, it must be there, and the door can never be shut complete.

[kawaiibarty]

wowoow PLEASE i need to know more about the blacks being somehow related to russian royals!?!

OH M Y GOD FINALLY UEJWISNSN

okay so all of this is purely based off of russian literature/films that ive consumed in the past so it might not be 100% accurate but hsjandjsks

so the black family as i stated somewhere in this post are, in my headcanons, distantly and i mean VERY DISTANTLY related to russian royalty.

now, russian royalty has pretty much died out over the years since all that french revolution shit, you got dukes and duchesses and princes and princesses and that's where i think the black families descended from. it's a reach, i know

but in imperial russia, this is how noble titles worked

i believe that the ascendants of the black family were of the noble prince lineage where the title of prince/princess was basically just a status symbol and meant absolutely nothing other than "daddy is a favourite"

to me, the black family really doesn't care how much the title of a prince in russia is worth as long as it puts them above EVERYONE else so to them this was big news.

id imagine that it was orions parents who made this discovery as they would've been alive in the 1920s (around the time this started to fizzle out) of possibly a great-great-uncle who had received the title of noble prince due to his service on the field (i also like to think it was a half-blood family member which is why it's NEVER brought up except when discussing titles and level of importance over the hoi polloi

this swiftly became a part of their family, now because i mean, not only do they have nobility in blood purity, but now they have the titles of prince and princess to boast. a win is a win, no matter how you earn it.

here came the tradition of naming your sons and daughters after you, hence sirius orion black and, in ftm regulus's case, taking a name that meant "little king"

GUYS I AM COOKING I SWEAR

walburga was rigorous in aligning the boys' schedule to match something akin to the romanov kids' tutoring (language, history, music, and god forbid but sailing and hunting and nursing too).

she taught regulus all the things that you'd expect the girls in period dramas to be taught and orion would take it upon himself to educate sirius on the ways of men, except in russian, french and classical greek because they're quirky like that

the only reason why the boys weren't sent to durmstrang was because of the slytherin purist tradition. and i stand by the fact that walburga is a two faced snake like this dawg can't pick a fucking side 😭🙏

anyway i think ive said it all??? i might have more but i am tired.

summary: money, titles, blood purity, generational pride and greed.