Spite
Poor Seera’s gone and had an accident. Who will clean up all the blood?
Crowley said it pretty succinctly: “This is the womb of Chaos. Secrecy is here, and Perversion.”
Normally this is seen as a card of storms and horror and heartbreak, of unmitigated badness and pain. But really, what’s wrong with a little edgeplay? Pain can be a gateway to bliss, and not just in the “feels so good when it stops” sense – endorphins are endorphins.
She’s plunging swords into her womb, not her heart. Killing her potential for creation? But she’s enjoying it oh so much. Enjoying the blood dripping down her front and back, the way it thickly coats her sex. Sensual pleasure taken in ways that will never result in children – but are those eggs hers? Look, one of them’s already beginning to open, and her horrible progeny is starting to come out. Likely it’s tentacly and creepy, but incredibly cute and lovable – babies are like that no matter what they are. In sunken R’lyeh, Little C’thulhu lays dreaming?
And all that blood? It’s good for the soil, you know. Good for the dark plants that grow thick around her. Crisis and pain can serve as the fuel for wonderful things; how will you transform your troubles into joy?
What’s the name of the horrible stabby monster that lives inside of you? Get to know her. Know when he’s coming out. Learn what it wants and what will make her howl in filthy glee. Learn to ride the storm; now is the time to be it.