#cardinal flow

[marthashlyn3]

amu Fe - S + C = [(💟, ☮️, &☯️) ✝️➿+➰] in 2CO₂ 🎪 + 1 g/cm³ H₂O Genesis 1 • 0 m/s² • 2π.

[ebandgrow]

Winging a caption just beak-ause

[ltstrikesback]

My little italian grandma told me she watched conclave at the library and I told her I loved it and she said she did to and that she enjoyed all the languages spoken, especially the italian

[barkovsasha]

STL @ LA - 5.13.24

[patrice-bergerons]

God i am afraid I desire our lead counsel carnally. I am extremely fluent in business speak you see, to the point I joke that it's become my native tongue, but THIS MAN. He is a poet with it, he has such a way with words, he takes business speak and brings it to soaring heights hitherto unseen.

The latest: We took 2 business days to address a request of his and in the cover email said thank you for your patience to acknowledge the slight delay. But just now he replied with "no patience was necessary: I'm really grateful for you having taken the time to review it carefully" and oh be still my heart and my coochie 😭

[filmjunky-99]

w h e r e t h e r i v e r s f l o w n o r t h, 1993 🎬 dir. jay craven

[ginalinettiofficial]

i think you shouldn't drive i'm being serious

love this ask first of all (/gen) but tbh i think YOU should never attempt to drive in chicago or any similar american major city IM being serious!! like i hear u 100% but 1) i’m bein a lil silly when i chit chat on tumblr dot com and 2) bein a defensive driver means keeping up w the flow of traffic and following the social rules of driving above all else and shit genuinely is different when you’re in a place with thousands upon thousands of cars on the road, a trend of road rage shootings, and a lot of dangerous weather conditions. if ur sitting in bumper to bumper traffic with thousands of ppl tryna race to not be late to work, and you don’t get close enough to the person in front of you, the people on either side of you will take that as invitation to cut you off a million times & can and do cause major crashes w it. if you brake too early in heavy traffic/leave too much space between you and the car in front of you while braking, it makes it difficult for the people behind you to anticipate the rate at which you’ll brake & causes rear enders. if you slow down too much on a turn or yellow light and it’s against the flow of traffic you run the risk of being rear ended. if cars around you are all doing 75 and you’re insisting on sticking to the 60mph speed limit you’re gonna get hit. truly most of my driver flaws are in fact things i do because i was specifically taught to do them in driver’s ed to be safer in city driving conditions!!!

that said i’m trying very much so to be more aware of if i’m tailgating outside of heavy traffic times and i’ve been told i’m doing much better w it than i used to!! & also i use my turn signal whenever it’d be dangerous for me to NOT do so - i prommy i’m just bein silly here and i strive to keep me and the cars around me safe, don’t worry

[deadpresidents]

"Vocabor Franciscus. "I will be called Francis." It was a breathtaking choice. Because no pope had ever taken the name, it needed no Roman numerals but stood stark and simple...No one ever thought a pope could be called Francis; it would be like taking the name Peter, or Jesus. They were one of a kind.

"I was astonished at the boldness of it, because the name Francis is a whole program of governance in miniature," the Vatican commentator John Allen told Boston Radio. "He is this iconic figure in the Catholic imagination that awakens images of the antithesis of the institutional church...That's an awful lot of weight to put on your shoulders right out of the gate. If you're not prepared to walk that talk, then you're going to be in real trouble."

Bergoglio had walked that talk over a lifetime. Right now it mostly meant saying no, like keeping his old black shoes, his silver pectoral cross (a pope's is normally gold), and his faithful black plastic watch, or refusing the limousine waiting to take him back to the guesthouse for dinner ("May God forgive you for what you have done," he joked with the cardinals [who had just elected him]). After Mass with the cardinals the next day, he left the Vatican in a Ford Focus -- the security guards had better cars than the pope -- to pray at the shrine of Saint Mary Major, returning via the priests' hostel where he had stayed before the conclave. There he collected his bag, paid his bill to a shocked clerk ("I checked in under another name" was the caption on a widely tweeted photo), and chatted and joked with staff. There wasn't much to collect. He had been washing his clothes at night, letting them dry on the radiator...

...It was lots of those little things. They weren't mere gestures, nor were they calculated messages. They flowed from his identification with the Christ of the Gospels..."We must learn to be normal!" he told his Jesuit interviewer, Father Antonio Spadaro, in August that year, and he put it into practice, collecting his tray of food in the Santa Marta dining room like anyone else, making his own phone calls and many of his appointments, keeping his own diary, and making visits -- always in the blue Ford Focus, without any kind of entourage -- to parishes and charities around Rome, to spend time with the old and the homeless and the foreign-born.

Stories of Francis's personal kindness, impossible to verify, began to make their rounds, like the time he left his room to find a Swiss Guard standing outside his door and brought him a chair. "But Holy Father, I cannot sit down. My boss does not allow it," the guard told him. "Well, I'm the boss of your boss, and I say it's fine," Francis told him, before going back inside to fetch him the Italian equivalent of a Twinkie...

...Francis has become the most accessible of modern popes, almost always to be found at lunchtime in the Santa Marta restaurant, where he has his own table set aside, but stands in the queue with his tray like everyone else. Visitors report that he comes out of the Santa Marta to greet them personally, while hostel guests are often shocked to find that when elevator doors open the pope steps in ("I don't bite," he reassures them)."

-- Austen Ivereigh, on how different Pope Francis was from his monarchical predecessors and how shocking it was at the Vatican immediately following his election at the 2013 Conclave when Francis decided to live in a simple room at the Vatican's guesthouse instead of the luxurious papal apartments in the Apostolic Palace, in the 2014 book, The Great Reformer: Francis and the Making of a Radical Pope (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO)

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

Today, we’re going to talk about the Mars sign and how it influences the way you take action. Action is what drives our day-to-day lives. Without it, nothing would come to fruition. Your Mars sign shapes your approach to action in ways that many people have never fully explored. Let me guide you through how your Mars sign dictates how you take action.

Aries Mars

With an Aries Mars, your life is all about movement. You dislike stillness, boredom, and feeling useless. You’re a natural worker, and when you’re not working, it negatively impacts your self-worth and empowerment. You feel defeated and weakened without constant action.

In this position, Aries Mars doesn’t like to overthink. They avoid people who crowd their mind with too many ideas. Instead, they prefer to act based on instinct and what feels right in the moment. They are the ultimate guide and compass for their own life and dislike being told what to do. If you try to get an Aries Mars to listen to others, they will become aggressive and shut you down or refuse to listen. They want to rule their own lives.

As a cardinal sign, Aries Mars is quick to start things. They’re quick to apply for a job, try something new, or go after what they want. They don’t like being bossed around; instead, they expect others to take orders from them. If you’re interacting with an Aries Mars, you must listen to what they say and obey their rules.

Ruled by Mars, Aries Mars is hot-headed, creative, and aggressive. They don’t know how to dial back their energy. They express themselves directly, preferring a clear yes or no—nothing in between. Aries Mars loves to be dominant, and submissive roles never suit them. They won’t last long in situations where they aren’t in control.

They want to show strength and capability, so they’ll always gravitate toward opportunities that allow them to demonstrate their power. Aries Mars doesn’t like being told no; they’ll knock down walls just to prove they’re strong enough to do it. If you plant a seed of doubt in their mind, they’ll quickly show you why you’re wrong.

Fearless by nature, Aries Mars will often try to push through challenges—even when they’re not fully capable—driven by adrenaline. They run on this adrenaline, ensuring that everything they do is done in a big way. Their motto is “Go big or go home.”

With this placement, you might rise to the top or crash to the bottom. But even if you fall, you always have the resilience to get back up. Life for Aries Mars flows in cycles—cycles of danger and cycles of success. But no matter what, you have the ability to rise above it all.

Taurus Mars

You can’t be bothered with people who don’t understand how you do things, because it annoys you to explain yourself to those who aren’t willing to understand. You have the ability to be discerning, and you can easily spot when someone is asking you to do something just because it’s different from how you do things, versus when someone truly wants to assist you. However, in this action-oriented placement, you often move too slowly for Mars. While Mars is racing ahead, you take your sweet time, falling far behind. Although, one day, you will catch up with Mars—it just might take a while. For you, Taurus Mars, it’s all about being slow and steady, but sometimes, you might fall out of the race entirely.

Taurus Mars prefers to stick to tried-and-true methods. You dislike doing anything unconventional. You need traditional, proven, scientifically researched methods. You want to know what your grandmother did and replicate it because, frankly, you don’t care about modern technology or the latest ideologies. What works is what you’ll do, because you don’t have the energy to explore new ideas.

At your core, Taurus Mars is all about pleasure. You hardly want to move unless there’s something in it for you. You’re transactional—refusing to take on tasks for trivial amounts of money. You know your worth and won’t settle for small change. You need to know exactly how much you’ll be compensated before you’ll even consider moving.

Taurus Mars is motivated by pleasure. Anything that makes life feel more beautiful, relaxing, and luxurious is what draws you in. If you’re only offering exercise as an incentive, forget it. Taurus Mars doesn’t care about working out; it cares about sitting back and enjoying life. Your movements are slow and deliberate, as you’re playing a long game. You’re not concerned with building muscle or being the strongest—you’re aiming to enjoy life to the fullest in your own way.

Your actions are meticulous and intentional, and this often frustrates others who are always in a rush. While they’re eager to get somewhere, Taurus Mars is focused on enjoying the ride. You’re all about sensuality and taking pleasure in movement, but only in ways that make you feel beautiful, useful, and at peace. You don’t want to work at a construction site; you’d rather paint, water the garden, dance, or create something beautiful.

The Mars energy can be too strong for Taurus, causing a clash. Mars urges you to act quickly, but Taurus is reluctant to rush. This makes it take a long time for you to take any significant action because you need to know that what you’re doing will produce tangible results.

There are two things that are crucial for Taurus Mars to move:

1. It needs to feel like an investment. You need to see that what you’re doing is worth the effort and will yield results.

2. You cannot be bothered by things that require too much physical exertion or mental strain. You prefer tasks that allow you to use your eye for beauty and aesthetics rather than relying on brute strength or intense mental effort.

Taurus Mars sits between physical strength and mental power when taking action. You also need to know that whatever you’re doing is sustainable. If something requires too much energy, you won’t pursue it. But if it’s low energy and leads nowhere, you’ll also avoid it.

What sets Taurus Mars apart is that when they finally take action, they do so with such discernment and efficiency that they often produce far greater results than others who are taking constant action. While others might rush through their tasks, Taurus Mars moves slowly, but when they take that one step, the payoff is significant. People might get jealous when they see that after taking three months to decide, Taurus Mars ends up with more than the person who’s been acting every day. Taurus Mars doesn’t leap without thought—they only take action when they know it will work. And that’s why, in the end, they often end up in a better position than others.

Gemini Mars

How did the planet Mercury meet Mars? Well, they talked their way over to Mars, who was busy working, and now they’re distracting Mars from getting things done. Yes, Gemini Mars is always distracted from taking action.

Seeing a Gemini Mars take action is like seeing a rainbow in the sky—a rare and beautiful occurrence. Everyone gathers around to admire it, but it doesn’t happen often. For Gemini Mars, they are cerebral thinkers. They don’t care much about doing. In fact, they prefer to watch others do the work because they can’t be bothered to lift a finger.

Why would they exert physical effort when their strength lies in their mental capacity? Instead of doing, they prefer to instruct others who are willing to act. They’ll share their ideas, plan things out, and let others carry out the tasks. That’s the essence of Gemini Mars.

In this position, Mars is full of energy and ready to take action, but it’s facing Mercury, who is just talking. So, Gemini Mars doesn’t thrive here. Why? Because Mars is waiting for Gemini to act, but Gemini is too busy talking. If you meet someone with Gemini Mars, they’ll be a big talker—full of grand ideas, theories, and ideologies. They can talk about everything from social groups and celebrities to the latest trends. But when you ask them what they’ve actually done today, they haven’t done much because it’s all in their head.

One thing Gemini Mars is good at is meeting new people and finding ways to externalize their thoughts. They can convince others to be the ones who do what needs to be done. For example, a Gemini Mars might have a girlfriend who does all the cooking and cleaning, while the Gemini Mars doesn’t lift a finger. Why? Because the Gemini Mars has charmed and persuaded the person into doing these things, using their charisma and Mercury energy to convince them that it’s the best thing for them to do. Now, the Gemini Mars doesn’t have to cook dinner or clean clothes because they’ve convinced someone else to do it.

That’s the essence of Gemini Mars. They will persuade you to do what they don’t want to do. They’ll give you the ideas, make lists for you, and tell you exactly how to do it, but they won’t execute it themselves. They’re thinkers, not doers. Gemini Mars excels in jobs that require them to use their creativity and intellect but not physical labor. If the job requires them to be hands-on, they’ll likely fail or quit because that’s not where their strength lies.

When it comes to decision-making, Gemini Mars is also slow. They don’t like to make decisions because they’re constantly processing information. They’re never set in stone with their conclusions. Instead, they’re always transitioning between different ideas, theories, and thoughts without committing to one. This indecisiveness makes Gemini Mars a poor decision-maker.

While this might not be the best placement in times when people were expected to take action and do physical labor, Gemini Mars functions well in modern, intellectual eras where new ideas and technological advancements are valued. In today’s world, Gemini Mars thrives in environments that require efficient thinking, ideation, and constant mental stimulation. They’re not going to do the work—they’re just going to tell you how to do it.

Cancer Mars

When we think of Mars, we think of action—raw, animalistic, pure energy. And then here comes the soft, subtle Moon. Mars doesn’t even notice the Moon because it’s too busy working, while the Moon is focused on comfort and feeling. Mars has no time for that.

Now, imagine the position of Cancer Mars. Mars doesn’t like this placement. Mars wants the Moon as far away as possible because the Moon brings “yucky, icky” feelings. Mars is all about action—so why sit in emotions and feelings without doing something about it? For Cancer, they’re such strong feelers, and in the Mars position, this impedes their ability to take action because they’re stuck in the realm of emotions, comfort, and familiarity. Action feels chaotic, aggressive, and all over the place. Cancer Mars prefers to stay in their comfort zone.

As a cardinal sign, Cancer wants to lead, but they also don’t want to take action. They feel propelled to act but may impulsively start something before their emotions take over. Once that emotional wave rises, Cancer Mars becomes paralyzed by feelings—overwhelmed by emotions, unsure of where to go, and unsure of what action to take. One minute they feel happy, the next minute they feel sad, and then they might feel angry. They don’t know where to go or how to move forward because they’re consumed by their emotions.

So, Cancer Mars takes a long time before making any moves. They’re the type to feel sudden inspiration to do something because they have cardinal energy and they’re ready to start—but once they feel that urge to begin, their emotions kick in. The overthinking starts, and now Cancer is uncertain. They wonder if they should take action, or if it’s the right time to do so. They’re caught up in their emotions and not sure which direction to take.

A Cancer Mars needs to process through cyclical emotional states before they can make a decision. If you’ve ever met a Cancer Mars, you might have noticed they can never make a decision on the spot. That’s because they want to say “yes,” but they know their emotions are going to influence them, and they can’t make a firm decision until they’ve worked through those emotions.

By the time Cancer Mars is ready to make a decision, they’re trying to operate from the highest emotional state possible. So if they’re feeling down or going through a somber period, they’ll wait to make any decisions until they feel like they’re in a more elevated emotional state. This can slow things down even more.

Cancer Mars is like the person you rely on, but you never know what mood they’ll be in. On Monday, they say they’ll pick you up on Thursday, and you think you can count on that. But by Tuesday, their emotions have shifted, and they change their mind. By Wednesday, they may change it back to “yes,” and now you’re left wondering if they’ll actually follow through. This fluctuation creates uncertainty, and by Thursday, you’re on pins and needles, wondering whether or not Cancer Mars will show up.

This placement is terrible for decision-making until Cancer Mars grows emotional intelligence and learns to understand their emotions without being completely absorbed by them. In the meantime, they’ll make decisions slowly. Even when Cancer Mars does make decisions, there’s still that cardinal energy. Sometimes the decision is impulsive—just a sheer desire to take action—but it might change repeatedly.

So while Libra might be known for being indecisive, Cancer Mars is even more indecisive because their moods and emotions create a barrier to taking action. However, once Cancer Mars finally takes action, they’re committed. After all the back-and-forth and emotional processing, when they do move forward, they really want to do it.

But remember, Cancer Mars doesn’t like aggression, harshness, or fast-paced action. When they take action, they’ll want to do it with grace, moving demurely and with class. That’s the Cancer Mars way.

Leo Mars

When we think of Mars, we think of action—raw, powerful energy. Now, imagine the Sun coming into the picture. Mars looks over its shoulder and smiles because the Sun brings enthusiasm, positivity, and light. With the Sun’s radiant energy, Mars feels motivated to do more, shine brighter, and keep pursuing what it wants. This is the essence of Leo Mars.

For Leo Mars, they bring positivity to action. While some Mars placements can make action seem serious, Leo injects fun, joy, and light-hearted energy into it. Mars feels it can smile more with Leo around. Leo Mars doesn’t just want to do things—they want to do them with purpose, passion, and the best energy they can offer. When they act, they are fired up and unstoppable. However, because Leo Mars is a fixed sign, they’re not always the initiators.

Leo Mars isn’t as original as people often assume. Unlike Aries Mars, which is known for being a leader and trailblazer, Leo Mars tends to follow in the footsteps of the Cardinal signs. They observe and then act, especially when they see something successful. Leo Mars is drawn to established success and often finds themselves following what’s already been built, rather than starting something from scratch.

For example, if Leo Mars sees someone doing well—gaining followers, making money, or growing influence—they’ll jump on board. As a fixed sign, they don’t want to create something new but will instead take what already works and build upon it. They want to enhance and magnify what is already established. So, if you’re making money or gaining followers, Leo Mars will take notice and figure out how they can make it bigger, better, and more powerful.

This tendency to build on existing success is why Leo Mars often develops a big ego. They want to outdo the person who showed them the way or introduced them to something new. If you teach a Leo Mars anything, be prepared for them to want to do it better than you. If you have more money, expect Leo Mars to eventually surpass you in that area, too. This is the nature of fixed energy—it makes decisions with confidence and believes it can work because they see the potential to build on what’s already there.

When Leo Mars takes action, they need recognition for it. They thrive on praise, acknowledgment, and admiration. This is why Leo Mars tends to follow trends or go after what’s already working—they know that if they master it, they will receive recognition, whether it’s through more followers, more money, or more praise.

While this is a great position for Mars, as Leo Mars is not afraid to take action and doesn’t overthink things, it does have its shadow side. Leo Mars often hops onto trends or opportunities that are already established, simply to get the best out of them.

I’ve personally seen Leo Mars individuals outdo others by taking what’s already successful and making it their own. They’re great at making friends and gaining popularity, which is part of why they can take action so easily. Leo Mars knows how to charm people and make them feel good, often offering compliments and encouragement. But secretly, they’re calculating how to rise to the top of the group, become the leader, and take control.

So, if you have a Leo Mars around you, watch out. While they might seem friendly and encouraging, they’re often quietly working their way to the top, taking what’s already established and making it theirs. As with all fixed signs, Leo Mars can be sneaky, as they tend to build off of what’s already there, rather than creating something entirely new.

Virgo Mars

When we talk about Virgo Mars, we’re talking about the energy of Mercury. Just like Gemini Mars, Mercury talks its way over to Mars, distracting Mars from its hard work. Mars gets irritated because Mercury just keeps talking while Mars wants to focus and work. Virgo Mars is similar, but unlike the mental energy of Gemini, the Earth energy of Virgo is more pragmatic and focused on tangible results, rather than just conveying information.

This placement isn’t ideal because Mars’ energy is fast and impulsive. It wants to work quickly, get the job done, and move on—without worrying about every single detail. But Virgo? Virgo is all about analyzing the details, and Mars hates that. This creates a conflict. Even when Virgo Mars does take action, they’ve already burned through most of Mars’ energy by overanalyzing and overthinking the details. Mars doesn’t care about the details—that’s Mercury’s domain. When Mars is in play, it’s about taking action, not slowing things down with unnecessary analysis.

Virgo Mars struggles because they feel the need to make decisions, but they can’t until they’ve gathered all the information. They’re caught up in the details, unsure of what’s right or what they should do. While Mars is already down the street, Virgo Mars is still at home, trying to decide what shoes to wear or what hat to put on. By the time they’ve made a decision, Mars has already moved on.

Because of this tendency to overthink and focus on the minutiae, Virgo Mars misses many opportunities in life. They’re great at making good decisions, but they take so long to decide that by the time they’re ready, the opportunity is gone.

For example, if a Virgo Mars has a crush on someone, they will notice every detail about that person: how their eyes look, how they talk, how they dress, even their strengths and weaknesses. Virgo Mars will analyze the person deeply, thinking about how they would fit into their life if they were to date or marry them. All of this is happening in Virgo Mars’ mind—yet, they never take action. They think, think, think, but don’t do anything.

By the time Virgo Mars finally decides to act, months have passed, and the person they had their eye on is already in a relationship. They took so long to make a move that the opportunity slipped away. This is how Virgo Mars works—slow to take action but very detailed and prepared when they finally do.

Similarly, if Virgo Mars is applying for a job, they might miss out because they’re too focused on getting the perfect resume, researching everything about the company, and preparing for the interview. By the time they’re ready, someone else has already gotten the job. Virgo Mars moves too slowly and overthinks everything. They’re obsessed with getting everything right, but by taking too long, they miss out on opportunities.

Virgo Mars is different from Taurus Mars. While Taurus Mars takes their time to pursue what pleases them, Virgo Mars focuses on the details of the process. They want everything to be perfect, down to the smallest detail, but that can cause them to miss out on life’s bigger opportunities. They think they’re doing things the right way, but they can’t get out of their own mindset and, as a result, they get stuck.

Virgo Mars is driven by the need to function and operate efficiently, but that drive often results in paralysis by analysis. They get caught up in the small stuff, and because of their perfectionism, they end up taking too long to act. Their need for everything to be perfect in a certain way, in a certain form, often prevents them from taking action at all.

This is how Virgo Mars takes action—slow, methodical, and focused on details. But their overthinking and obsession with perfection often cause them to miss out on what’s really important in life.

Libra Mars

Libra Mars, like Taurus Mars, is ruled by Venus. However, with Libra Mars, the energy is in the air element, making things more complex and trickier. Venus, as we know, doesn’t like Mars because Mars is aggressive, feisty, and action-oriented, while Venus just wants to relax, look beautiful, and be pampered. These two energies are quite different and often collide.

For Libra Mars, the Venus energy can’t handle the raw force of Mars. Mars is too harsh, too demanding, and too forceful for the more balanced and calm nature of Libra. Libra doesn’t like demands—it values space, balance, and harmony. So, when we look at Libra Mars, we see a person who is very much in their head. They don’t want to take action, because Air signs are more about mental energy than physical action. They prefer to have others do things for them while they create ideas and communicate what needs to be done. They want others to bring their thoughts and theories to life, but they don’t want to do the hard work themselves.

Libra Mars is great at interpersonal connections. Like Gemini Mars, they enjoy talking to people, but Libra Mars tends to be more one-on-one and personal. While Gemini Mars is sociable in a larger sense, Libra Mars seeks to build meaningful connections with individuals, not groups. They find someone they can communicate their ideas to, and once they find that person, they feel empowered to share their thoughts. They will have many conversations, but their goal is to find someone who can act on those ideas.

Libra Mars, much like Taurus Mars, doesn’t like to move for petty change or engage in hard, physical labor. They’re not like Aries Mars, who thrives on action and strength. Libra Mars wants to show their intellect and creativity, not their physical strength. They prefer to relax, enjoy themselves, and talk to others. They’re charismatic, charming, and flirtatious, able to make people feel good with their words. They’ll often inflate someone’s ego, encourage them, and make them feel like they can achieve anything.

Once they’ve made someone feel good, Libra Mars will convey their ideas and ask that person to carry out the work. They’re all about balance and think they are providing the mental energy while others bring the physical action. For example, Libra Mars may have a business idea they think is great, but they don’t like to take action. They’re too caught up in the details, the balance, and the perfection of the idea. They’re always overthinking, trying to make everything perfect, and this prevents them from moving forward.

What Libra Mars wants is for others to do the hard work. They want someone to make the money, build the business, or take care of the physical aspects of a project while they sit back and be the brain behind it. They don’t mind working in a team, as long as they don’t have to take the lead in the execution. Libra Mars thrives when they can make connections and delegate tasks to others.

However, this placement isn’t always the best. Libra Mars can be so focused on balance that it takes them a long time to figure out exactly what they want or need. They’re constantly going back and forth in their mind, weighing options, and trying to make everything “just right.” This overthinking process can delay their ability to take action or even decide what they want others to do. They may lead others on with their charm and ideas, but when it comes time to act, they often don’t know what they want or how to proceed.

By the time Libra Mars figures out what they want, they’ve worn others out. They have a lot of ideas, and since they’re cardinal energy, they’re always coming up with new thoughts and inspirations. However, the problem is that they often don’t follow through. They have no follow-through because they’re too focused on the mental side of things and not the action side.

The best thing Libra Mars can do is build relationships with others who can help them bring their ideas to life. But it takes time for them to fully understand what they want, communicate it clearly, and work harmoniously with others to make it happen. This results in a delayed, sometimes chaotic process before they can achieve their desires.

Scorpio Mars

When Mars is hard at work, taking action, and making things materialize, Scorpio sneaks up from behind. Mars feels Scorpio’s energy permeating through them—Mars can feel both the Mars energy from Scorpio and the deeper, darker, murky energy from Pluto. When Mars turns around, they see nothing but Scorpio Mars.

Scorpio Mars is a strong placement because Mars rules Scorpio, and because of this, Mars appreciates how Scorpio operates. Scorpio gets straight to the point and doesn’t waste time, which is something Mars loves. However, Scorpio has a deeper, darker side that Mars doesn’t fully understand. While Scorpio Mars is effective at getting things done, using Mars energy to take action without overthinking or becoming too emotional, Pluto’s energy slows them down.

Mars wants fast results—it’s quick, action-oriented, and aggressive. But Pluto, which rules Scorpio, is about long-term, transformative results. Pluto doesn’t rush; it seeks to change things profoundly. This creates a collision. While Mars seeks quick results, Pluto requires a deeper, more gradual process. Scorpio Mars, therefore, tends to take longer to accomplish their goals because they’re focused on transformation and regeneration.

This long-term focus is actually beneficial because, unlike Aries Mars, which can burn out quickly, Scorpio Mars aims for lasting success. However, this comes with its challenges. Pluto demands hard work and persistence. In this placement, Scorpio Mars is fixed energy, which means it prefers to build upon what already exists rather than start something new.

When Scorpio Mars wants to transform something, they look at what’s already progressing or developing and decide, “I can make this better.” They thrive on improving what others may overlook. This makes them different from Aries Mars, as Scorpio Mars has the foresight to see potential before it’s fully realized. They don’t plan like Virgo Mars, which overthinks; instead, Scorpio Mars intuitively senses what could be improved and has the stamina to work toward that goal.

Scorpio Mars is the “rags to riches” type. They start with nothing, but they can see potential in what others view as broken. Their intuition and ability to transform situations make them smarter than Aries Mars in some ways. They see what others can’t, and they use their fixed energy to continue working toward that vision.

They also have Pluto’s energy, which grants them incredible resilience. When something breaks or fails, Scorpio Mars rises from the ashes, powered by Pluto’s regenerative force. This resilience is even stronger than Aries Mars because Pluto can endure harsher challenges. Pluto doesn’t just get through tough situations—it transforms them.

As Scorpio Mars ages, they begin to notice that things others have given up on, or neglected, are the very things they’ve transformed into something greater. By the time Scorpio Mars is older, they have profited and thrived from opportunities that others overlooked.

Scorpio, being a water sign, brings intuition to the action-oriented Mars energy. Mars is instinctive, while Pluto’s energy is intuitive, allowing Scorpio Mars to make decisions quickly. They don’t need to overthink because they trust their intuition, which often leads them to success. This combination of Mars’ action and Pluto’s depth makes Scorpio Mars incredibly powerful.

In summary, Scorpio Mars is a placement of transformation and power. Mars loves Mars, and Pluto’s energy makes it even stronger, adding depth and resilience. Scorpio Mars has the ability to endure, transform, and achieve success through their intuition and unyielding determination.

Sagittarius Mars

Now, let’s talk about Sagittarius Mars. Sagittarius is ruled by Jupiter, the planet of expansion, abundance, higher learning, and beliefs. But does Mars really care about beliefs or philosophy? Not at all. Does Mars care about higher learning? No. What Mars does care about is the energy of Sagittarius. Jupiter is all about expansion and abundance, and when it meets Mars, Jupiter makes Mars feel like it can work for more—more energy, more results, more success. This creates a sense of greed in Sagittarius Mars, making it feel like it can keep pushing for more, building stamina in the process.

Additionally, Sagittarius is a fire sign, and fire signs are action-oriented. When Mars is in a fire sign, it feels lit up and encouraged to take action, so Mars actually doesn’t do too bad in this placement. It’s not the worst position for Mars, but there are some challenges. Let me explain why Sagittarius Mars also isn’t the best placement for Mars.

As I mentioned, Jupiter is abundant, optimistic, and always looking toward the future. It overextends itself and tends to be overly hopeful. When this energy is placed in Mars, a doer and worker by nature, Mars becomes prone to overworking itself. Sagittarius Mars can overexert its energy in pursuit of action, and the combination of Jupiter’s optimism and Mars’ drive can lead to burnout. Sagittarius Mars tends to keep going, pushing forward without realizing it until they crash. This overexertion is a downside of having both Mars and Jupiter in one placement—Mars wants to work, but Jupiter’s energy encourages overdoing things without grounding or realism.

Another issue arises because Jupiter represents freedom, and Mars is all about action. Mars is not like Saturn, where discipline and hard work are the focus. Mars likes to get things done, but Sagittarius, being ruled by Jupiter, can often prioritize freedom and fun over hard work. Sagittarius Mars can be impulsive and abandon its drive for action when it finds something more enjoyable or adventurous.

Sagittarius Mars is mutable energy, which means it’s constantly moving, exploring, and looking for new experiences. It doesn’t like to stay in one place or focus on one task for too long. This lack of focus means that, while Sagittarius Mars is action-oriented, it may abandon the task at hand in favor of pursuing something more exciting, fun, or liberating.

Sagittarius Mars tends to split its energy: half the time, it’s burning through action, overexerting itself in the process; the other half, it’s seeking freedom and excitement, abandoning work to explore new ideas or enjoy life. This creates a 50-50 balance where Sagittarius Mars is both productive and lazy, depending on where their curiosity or desire for adventure takes them.

Overall, this is not a bad placement for Mars, but it’s a bit of a split energy. Sagittarius Mars is better than some placements like Earth or Water signs, as it brings action, but it’s also prone to distractions and overexertion. The key challenge is balancing the desire for action with the need for freedom and exploration.

Capricorn Mars

Capricorn Mars is a great position for Mars because Saturn, which rules Capricorn, is all about hard work, and Mars is all about action. Saturn’s influence means that Capricorn Mars is willing to put in the work necessary to take action. People with Capricorn Mars succeed far greater than other signs because they’re willing to do the hard work that others shy away from.

Unlike the Air Mars signs, who often want to facilitate, convey ideas, or translate thoughts, Capricorn Mars wants to get their hands dirty, dig in, and do the work. With Saturn’s influence, Capricorn Mars has the strength and endurance to push through any obstacle, giving them the longevity needed to reach their goals. They have the discipline and focus to achieve results.

Capricorn Mars is in a powerful position because Saturn loves discipline, and Mars is action-oriented. Saturn’s influence brings structure and focus to Mars’ energy, ensuring that it’s not scattered or impulsive. Instead, Capricorn Mars has a clear plan, a solid strategy, and a well-thought-out approach to materializing their goals. They use tried-and-true methods to turn their desires into reality, rather than relying solely on intuition or instinct.

Not only does Capricorn Mars take action, but they also do the dirty work that others might avoid. Just like the Capricorn sign, which is known for ambition, Capricorn Mars is decisive and knows exactly what they want. When they take action, they do so with purpose and drive. They can execute much faster than someone who is indecisive or overly emotional, as they know what they want and are focused on achieving it.

Saturn’s influence also teaches Capricorn Mars to take their time and understand that obstacles will come. Having the foresight to recognize potential challenges means they have the endurance to face them and still succeed. Capricorn Mars is methodical, patient, and determined to reach their goals, even if it takes longer than expected.

This makes Capricorn Mars an excellent placement for both work and action. Capricorn Mars doesn’t get caught up in emotions or overthinking. They focus on the facts and truth of the situation and take action based on that. They’re pragmatic and clear-sighted, working with what is in front of them—right or wrong—without getting lost in feelings or excessive analysis.

Capricorn Mars has a clear, steady approach to life, hitting milestones and achieving goals, even if it takes longer than others. Think of Capricorn Mars as someone who can go through years of schooling to become a doctor. Yes, an Aries Mars might make money quickly or lose weight rapidly, but Capricorn Mars is in it for the long haul. By the time they reach their goal, they are not only highly skilled but also financially secure in a sustainable way.

While an Aries Mars can achieve fast, short-term results—like earning money or achieving a quick transformation—Capricorn Mars is about long-term sustainability. An Aries Mars may make money quickly, only to lose it, or might shed weight fast but struggle to keep it off. In contrast, Capricorn Mars thinks ahead, planning for the future and building solid foundations for long-term success.

Thirty years from now, the payoff for Capricorn Mars will be immense, as they’ve built something lasting and sustainable. This is how Capricorn Mars operates—they don’t rush. They think about stability, longevity, and how their actions today will pay off in the future. They don’t force this process; it’s a natural way of working that ensures lasting results.

Aquarius Mars

Aquarius Mars brings a lot of goodness to the Mars energy. It introduces innovation, progressive ideas, and a future-oriented focus. Aquarius is great at facilitating change and progress, especially with an eye toward the future. In this position, Aquarius Mars helps the action-oriented Fire Mars take action and seize the moment through initiatives that benefit the long term or create a more cohesive, humanitarian society. They excel at organizing groups of people to work toward a collective goal and can guide others to take action toward creating positive change.

However, the downside of Aquarius Mars, which sometimes makes it a less effective Mars placement, is the rebellious and chaotic energy of Uranus, which rules Aquarius. Uranus brings abrupt changes that people may not always understand. It’s often focused on big dreams and ideals, which can be far-fetched and impractical. These ideals focus on the potential for success, but sometimes they don’t account for the practical steps needed to achieve it.

Because of this, Aquarius Mars can sometimes clash with others when it comes to their ideas or when trying to get others to act on them. Their ideas, though progressive, can be too disruptive or unconventional, leading to disagreements or friction within a group. It can take time for Aquarius Mars to find like-minded individuals who align with their vision and can help bring their ideas to fruition.

When it comes to decision-making, Aquarius Mars is good at making decisions about the future, but not as effective when it comes to the present. They are less interested in the mundane, day-to-day tasks or the practical details of life. These tasks don’t capture their attention. As a result, they might struggle to make decisions that require focus on the here and now. They’re more adept at communicating ideas and getting others to act on them, but actually taking action themselves can be challenging. Like other air Mars placements, Aquarius Mars may prefer to let others do the hard work while they contribute their ideas and vision.

Aquarius Mars can also struggle with making realistic, tangible decisions for the present. They tend to get caught up in their lofty, future-oriented goals, which can make them detached from what needs to be done in the moment. This detachment can cause them to neglect the practical actions needed for their own life, focusing more on larger, collective goals.

Moreover, Aquarius Mars is more focused on groups, social circles, and communities than on the individual. Their drive to take action is often geared toward collective causes, which can make it difficult for them to make decisions for their personal life. For example, they may struggle to make decisions regarding their personal relationships or daily routines because they’re more focused on their contribution to a larger, overarching purpose.

In the process, Aquarius Mars may shift their energy away from their own personal goals in favor of collective goals, sometimes causing them to lose track of what’s necessary for their own growth. This can lead to actions that may not be as functional or grounded in practicality. Their focus on the future, while valuable, may result in decisions that don’t necessarily pay off in the present moment.

Ultimately, Aquarius Mars can lack the functionality needed for practical decision-making. While their future-oriented ideas may pay off in some cases, they can also fail to produce results if not properly grounded in the present.

Pisces Mars

When we talk about Pisces Mars, we’re discussing a watery, elusive energy in the position of action. Mars, with its fiery, action-oriented energy, doesn’t align well with the water element. Water puts out fire, and while Mars wants to take action, the water from Pisces slows it down. Pisces Mars is more focused on emotions than on taking action. It’s caught up in the realm of imagination, sensitivity, and feeling, making it difficult to act.

Mars energy is too aggressive, direct, and passionate for Pisces Mars. Pisces prefers soft, subtle actions. They’re focused on their imagination and want to manifest their dreams and visions into reality. These are the true dreamers—not doers. Pisces Mars envisions everything they want out of life, but they struggle to make those dreams a reality. Why? Because they’re caught up in the passivity, subtlety, and emotional essence of their energy. The harshness of Mars pulls them away from their true nature, causing them to internalize too much.

Pisces Mars is a visionary, but their vivid imagination sometimes prevents them from taking action. The water energy of Pisces makes decisions based on feelings, not just action. Pisces Mars tends to feel out what they can do, and as a result, their dreams are often watered down by self-doubt or a lack of belief in their ability to follow through.

Pisces is a passive sign, a lover who doesn’t like aggression or harshness. They prefer calm and serenity, and taking action can feel too intense for them. It requires too much energy, and it’s not aligned with the peaceful energy they crave. Pisces Mars struggles with the mechanical, action-oriented nature of Mars, and may find it difficult to execute their dreams and make them real.

This makes Pisces Mars a challenging placement because they often just dream and envision but struggle to accomplish or do anything. Pisces Mars is highly sensitive, so any form of aggression, hardship, or rigidity—qualities inherent in Mars—will cause them to retreat. They may become introverted, withdraw into themselves, and shy away from the demands of the outside world. Mars’ direct energy doesn’t know how to deal with Neptune’s elusive, intangible qualities, and Pisces, ruled by Neptune, can’t easily channel Mars’ aggressive energy into concrete actions.

Furthermore, Pisces is ruled by Jupiter, and being a mutable sign, Pisces often flows through different stages and places in life. This makes it hard for Pisces Mars to focus on one task or goal. The mutable energy of Pisces doesn’t lend itself well to a constant, decisive course of action. Pisces Mars often craves freedom and choice, avoiding grounding themselves in any one thing for too long. Taking action can feel too rigid and confining, as Pisces just wants to explore, have options, and enjoy life on their terms.

This is the type of person who struggles to take things seriously, or to assert themselves and their ambitions. Pisces Mars may find themselves retreating into their imagination rather than stepping forward and actively pursuing their desires.

The combination of Pisces’ elusive energy with Mars’ direct energy makes it difficult for Pisces Mars to gain clarity. The lines between action and inaction blur, making it hard for them to pin down their direction. This confusion ultimately makes it harder for Pisces Mars to take decisive action in their life, further delaying their ability to turn their dreams into reality.

[marthashlyn3]

[ebandgrow]

[yandere-wishes]

⭒ㅤׂ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇㅤׂ ⭒

⭒⌒★ Yandere! X-Men x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓔𝔁𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 ♡ ｡ ゜

˚୨♡୧˚Magneto - Erik Lehnsherr | مگنیتو - اریک لنشر 

Techno graces your body in lieu of veins. Wires coiling like arteries should. You use it to mimic him, embody him, be him. His starry-eyed parody. Erik needs you to be more, to be everything he -and everybody else- could never be. You are synthetic and sacred in every way, you are the future he so desperately craves. 

He can't help seeing them when he looks at you. The reverend wraiths of tortured adoration speak to him through your eyes. He sees a bit of everyone inside you, Charles, Raven, Rogue... their faces flashing like holy ghosts. You have too many constellations inside of you, all on the verge of erupting. It keeps him up at night, especially when you're curled up on your side of the bed, asleep and oblivious. 

"You will save us, little one, you will be the savior we have longed for"

He feels the centuries rolling through him, desperately lost, trying to find his way back to a home he never even knew. Maybe that's why he kneels, brushing his lips across your knuckles tracing each vein in hopes that'll lead him back to a place he's only ever seen in his dreams. I'll stay lost, I'll wait for you to find me. He knows you will, you'll do anything for him. He's sure of it. 

Genosha asks for a queen, demands it really. It's funny how these things work. Funny how those who rule the world are so intent on destroying it. Kingdoms aren't built in a day yet they can so easily be toppled in one. In turn, Magento asks you. Who else? It's his one cardinal tenet, you are the savior he could never be. The one his people, your people, need. Erik rolls your name between his lips, relishing as the syllables melt on his tongue. There's a magnetic pull to 'queen' it tastes like a hallowed prayer. "My queen" he whispers in your ear, his tongue sending sparks up the cartilage shell. Magneto pins you to his lap, keeping you tethered to his strong body. His fingers run lines up your hips indulging in your presence. You don't squirm although he suspects you want to. his lips lower, kissing your jugular and savoring the ungainly moan that slips past your pretty lips. "M-Magneto" He's only now realizing you've never called him by his birthname, maybe cause in some way you find it treacherous that he should bear such a human thing. He may see you as salvation, yet you've always gazed at him with the pietistic eyes of a zealous worshipper. 

"Use your power, feel the magnetic pull flowing through you."

"You're overcomplicating it again, master, I just need to command that which I need lifted."

You've always been a rebellious student. The sardonic irony isn't lost on him, Magneto finds it fitting that he should master such an intricate pupil.

He wonders if you can forgive him for the bodies he's scattered in your name. From this far up he doubts you notice the broken bodies littering the concrete. He'll do it all again, anything to keep your distractions at bay. His kind needs a leader, not another sanctimonious hero.

You will be their savior.

You will be his queen.

♠️🂱♠️Gambit - Remy Lebeau | گمبیت - رمی لیبو

Remy wonders if the king ever longs to be stacked with the queen. Holding his breath every time the cards are shuffled. Praying that this time, this time for sure, he'll be next to her. Gambit's holding his breath too. There's a lively lilt when you giggle, he wonders if you truly grasp how much he means every word. "Mon Cheri, you know you're the only one for me." It sounds so childish, so jejune and Gambit knows he's too old for school-boy crushes. But he can't help it, he's desperate too, just another aspirant king vying for the attention of his red queen. 

You once told him the blacks of his eyes remind you of a starry night sky back home. He thinks about that too much. About the sting of your hand on his shoulder and how good it felt sitting crooked in his bones. So that's why an ace surpasses the king. There is only, one who holds power. Maybe it's never been about the queen or the king or the royal house. It's been the Ace all along. Remy only has one heart, he knows he only has one ace too. There was an ace of hearts on your nightstand this morning, you don't recall how it got there. 

Remy's kisses are too explosive, they hold all the weight of a dying star. Yet the force never ceases, it feeds off the detonations only growing stronger, you think you'll be consumed in this kinetic nova he calls love. 

-`X´- Cyclops - Scott Summers | سیکلوپ - سکات سامرز

There's a shutter of loneliness crawling up his spine. He knows you feel it too. Scott bends and breaks under its crushing weight. You've always been there, tangible, solid. You're the living metaphor for a rock in a raging river. He just can't find the right words yet. You can't see his eyes, you can't withstand his power. But you can be there holding his hand through it all. 

'Is this selfishness'? Scott wonders and he kisses you under a dying moon. He's never had anything to call his own, nothing that stayed for long anyway. He's snuffed out his desires his whole life. His place is with the X-men, playing the no-choice hero of a thankless story. But you, you're still here, you never left. Even now you stand still as his lips taint yours. He feels your fear, undue thing that it is. But he can't let you go not when everything is always marred in endless red monochrome and melancholy. Not when the only blessing the universe had ever given him comes in the shape of you. He's so tired of only ever knowing the life of a perfect toy soldier. 'Stay' he begs you between each kiss, each touch. Please just stay. Ease his pain.

 

☽✭☾ Wolverine - Logan Howlett | ولورین - لوگان هاولت

He's been alive longer than he cares to count. Running from one hell to another. He remembers your ghost, essence weaving between places too blurred to be graced with a name. But he remembers you, he swears he does. It's just that time is so fickle and so few can withstand its crushing tides. 

"How have you been, Logan?" 

"I..ah... fine, just fine." 

When he looks at you he can't believe the changes. There's no trace of the rosy cheecked little girl who used to chase demons in the snowbanks. Playing hide and seek with every stray in the neighborhood. That's good, he thinks, he likes this refined dignitary better, somehow it brings out your eyes. There's a feral gaze when he looks at you, he thought he was over that. He feels the pulsing of his heart reverberate through his claws. It brings back something less than memories, something nostalgic, yet all so distant it may as well have been the sent of his childhood home. It's not right he thinks, as his claws trace your curves trying to feel something he knows is lost. You quiver, trying to make yourself smaller and he knows, he knows he shouldn't do this. But there are just so many pieces missing and he's never tried to look for any of them. Maybe just this once he can delude himself into remembering. 

˚ʚ★ɞ˚ Nightcrawler - Kurt Wagner | شب خزنده - کورت واگنر

Not too long ago this used to be fine. He's always been better within shadows, letting the soft dark weave around his body. Obscurity has always felt like a second home, a haven in everything but consistency. You speak in italics, talking and talking without understanding what he shoulders. If he didn't deem it blasphemy, Kurt would gladly dub himself Eros.

You would be Psyche. Oblivious, sweet Psyche.

Kurt longs to kiss your cheek, he knows it'll only starve him for more. He wonders how soft your hands will feel. If you'll You cradle his face nails tracing the sharp point of his ears, his fangs, the jagged scar he got from dreaming of you in the danger room. Will you grace him with a kiss? Something to relinquish the anguish stirring within. This should be fine, you're talking to him, laughing with him as he remains hidden within the dark. And yet how can he see this as anything less than retribution? You're so close, just a breath away. If only he could reach out and...

۵𓋹۵ Apocalypse - En Sabah Nur | آپآکلپژ- ان صباح نور

Your heartbeat sounds all too familiar. He used to hear it a thousandfold walking down the Bazaar's street. It's dead now, the noise, the rapture, the music. He wonders what went right for your heart to beat to such a lost tune?  He remembers once hearing that pain travels through families until it lands on the right generation. He's glad fate picked you. He's glad you share the same ancient burdens.

He puts the stars in the sky.

You've been warned against worshipping false idols so blindly.

Yet how can one not fall at his feet?

He who makes the earth tremble and mighty cower. 

He who seems to know everything you do not. 

Your fingers thread through his hair. It's too black, like staring at a moonless sky in December. You wonder if the eternal ebony is what gives Apocolypse his cynical edge. He laughs at the comment as he melts into your familiar touch."Thank you" he mutters. His pride laces every word twisting them into something metaphysical. Nur wonders if you catch the true sentiment behind the words. If the sand and stars make it through. 

You're too archaic for this time Nur thinks as he watches you run across the fields. The other mutants are there, persistent in the games you all play. In his time he'd have already declared you his wife. Do you know the ancient ceremonies? Would you have gifted him gold or flesh? The yearning builds in his throat. Maybe he should have stayed dead. 

Apocolypse lingers the days away in your room, plotting, scheming. You keep him hidden like a blood secret. He's the only one who seems to understand where your power comes from, where you come from. " I could win against you...someday" Your fingers glow igniting a forgotten glow, Nur can't help but laugh as he traces the curve of your spine. " I don't doubt you could, beloved." His blue lips are on the length of your neck. Everything about you screams dead nostalgia. You've followed him through lifetimes. Smiling as you dragged him across the sand dunes just to watch the sunset. How he longs to carve you open and feel your heart between his teeth. 

He's choking on sand.

Drowning in stardust.

Nur feels like he's swallowed the sun whole. Devoured Ra and spat out his holy bones. He still feels the sting of its rays seeping through his teeth. He's divinity and desperation are all in the same breath. Apocalypse and Nur are just two sides of the same daric. You stand in front of him, tracing the blues of his face, kissing the reds of his eyes. An excavation into the lost, unearthing that which could collapse the world. You enjoy him, savor him, keeping his gold essence on your tongue locked behind rose-tinted lips. You beg Nur to dig through your bones, open you up, unseal every crypt. He obliges, kissing the hollow of your bones until his teeth graze your unsteady heart.

"And what will you do once you meet the real world?"

"Oh, nothing, the real world will have to meet me first."

There is so much blood, he doesn't remember doing this. You stand beside him watching the sand in the hourglass run out. He is Apocolypse bringer of destruction, the end of worlds, funny how he needed you, frail sweet thing that you are, to remind him of this. It's only when he looks at you, really really looks at you that he realizes how many things are still the same. Twisted deformed yet still they harbor their old shapes. Apocolypse kisses you under the shade of a palm tree hoping it'll mean something in the end.

Hoping everything can just go back. 

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

The Keys Of Heaven [Chapter 4: The Giver Of Life]

Series summary: Three years ago, Father Aemond Targaryen performed a miracle. Now he is a cardinal, a media sensation, and a frontrunner to be elected pope. You are a nun who has been brought to Vatican City to assist with the papal conclave. But when your paths cross by happenstance, you must both reckon with your decision to join the Catholic Church…and what you want from the future.

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), references to abuse and violence, volcanoes, bodily injury, death, peril, scheming, pining, some drugs/alcohol/smoking, Catholic trivia you never asked to learn, kangaroos!

Word count: 6.6k

🦘 A very special thanks to my Aussie slang consultant @bearwithegg and also her mum (any mistakes are mine) 🦘

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @lauraneedstochill @ecstaticactus @neithriddle, more in comments! 🥰

🗝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🗝️

Boats speed past him as he approaches Nea Kameni, fishing vessels, sailboats, small yachts weighed down with tourists and celebrities and business tycoons, and even if they were to turn back towards the erupting volcano—which none of them are—they wouldn’t be able to carry all the people stranded there to safety without going under themselves. This is why when Aemond commandeered a boat from the Old Port of Fira, he chose the largest one, a Grand Banks trawler that can withstand the burden of fifty desperate souls clawing their way abroad. The owner, a man in a suit who looks like he could afford the $2,000,000 price tag, had just been coming down from the cockpit and immediately handed over the keys when Aemond demanded them. Who could mistrust a priest?

“What will you do, Father?” the man had asked in a thick Greek accent, and then, when he saw Aemond’s pale blue eyes flick to the rupturing volcano: “No, you can’t, it’s suicide.”

But it’s not: it’s a resurrection, a chance to be born again. Aemond’s cassock is a humble and undistinguished black, the color of mourning, the death of his old life, the promise of something brand new. Why should people worship Mother Teresa or Joan of Arc or Thomas Aquinas and not him? It is not talent that he lacks. It is only their attention; it is only a miracle.

Now asteroids of pumice and scoria and basalt and obsidian are raining down into the waves thrashing around him, sea spray swashing up over the deck, and the sky is dark with ash and noxious lung-searing fumes, afternoon turned to nightfall. Red veins of lava are snaking down Nea Kameni, and the tourists trapped there are like specks of ants as they flee across the island, their own boat buried in a landslide and useless. And it is not just thankless obscurity that Aemond is leaving behind. It is the person he was when he left Nisyros as a teenager, escaping things he does not think about if he can help it, and most of the time he succeeds.

The ocean is sloshing, swirling, steaming where lava spills into the waves and makes them boil, and to leap into the currents would be certain death. He knows he won’t have long once he docks; even in the shelter of the tiny crescent-moon harbor, the boat will soon be ripped from its moorings by the fury of the sea, and then he will be trapped too and perish in the cinders and the heat and the suffocating toxins that have replaced the oxygen in the air. So he climbs over the deck railing and ropes the vessel to one of the piers that is still standing, and by the time he turns to wave to the castaways they have spotted him and are flocking to his boat in the same way thousands of believers once received the loaves and fishes from Christ.

“Father! Father!” they are screaming in the apocalyptic gloom, the earth quaking and the air like acid, and as they sprint down the embankment he points to warn them: a lava flow that is pouring from the exploded crater, a red-glowing river that will consume them. The tourists look back and see the molten cascade and shriek hysterically, pleading, praying, knowing they cannot outrun it, feeling the lethal heat of it already, blisters bubbling up on their exposed skin.

And then—as Aemond’s hands are still raised in warning, as the tourists have their back to the lava flow as they race for the boat—a new fissure opens up in the earth and Aemond watches as the lava floods down into it, and the besieged visitors to the island are spared. Then they are swarming the boat and Aemond is helping them aboard—Thank you Father, bless you Father—and already he can hear them repeating a lie he does not correct: Did you see that he stopped the lava? It was there and then it was gone, a godsend, a miracle.

It’s almost too dark to see, but Aemond steers the boat out of the harbor and begins crossing the narrow strait of the Mediterranean Sea back to Fira on Santorini. As his passengers cling to each other and meteors of volcanic rock pummel the vessel and splash into the waves, he reaches into one of the pockets of his black cassock—one day red, one day white, he cannot stop himself from thinking—and finds there the rosary that a girl once gave him on a beach in Sydney, Australia. He thinks of her sometimes, but not in a way he could explain to anyone else. She is a ghost, a whisper, far more than a friend, far less than a lover, and yet a ricochet that he hears again and again in moments when he thinks he has forgotten her.

What if I never met her on that beach? What if we had never left?

There is a blinding pain and then the impact of his body hitting the deck and then nothing, and later Aemond will learn that a piece of pumice struck his left eye and fractured his skull. Blood flashes red across the white paint, hemorrhaging like the poisons from the earth. His ash-soiled collar turns crimson and sopping. As the boat is tossed by rough waves and the sky grows ever-darker, the afternoon sun eclipsed, Aemond’s devotees staunch the bleeding and keep him safely aboard, and one of them takes the helm and manages to guide the vessel safely back to Santorini.

And when Aemond wakes up three days later—missing an eye, gaining immortality—the first thing he does is fumble for the remote so he can turn on the television and see witnesses acclaiming his miracle on Alpha TV: Father Targaryen saved us, Father Targaryen made me believe again.

~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s going on between you and the nun?” Lucky asks.

He and Aemond are standing beside the koi pond in the Vatican Gardens. It’s early, and the older cardinals are still scraping their arthritic bones together as they crawl out of their beds. The December morning is grey and dull like iron. Near the bottom of the pond, comets of gold and white and red and black scales travel unhurriedly through rippling water like the darkness of the night sky.

Aemond, preoccupied, puffs on a Karelia cigarette. “I told you. We met when we were children.”

Lucky lights a cigar and takes an impatient drag. That’s not what he meant, and they both know it. “Who is she to you now?”

“Nothing. We’re friends.”

“Not a good enough answer.” Lucky flicks ashes onto the sand-colored tuff pebbles, damp with daybreak mist. “Auclair is running around saying you have an improper attachment to her. Kazi told me there was candle wax all over her face. How did that get there, I wonder? Par hasard?”

Aemond hesitates. His cigarette smolders between two fingers of his right hand, a tiny pinpoint of pulsing red light. “I was consoling her. Auclair...in the chapel, she accidentally dropped a candle on his cassock, and he grabbed her arm.”

Lucky’s brow furrows, incredulous. “He struck her?”

“He startled her.”

Lucky doesn’t understand. “And this compelled you to...lose your composure entirely, risk everything we’ve worked for? Auclair startling a nun?”

Aemond shrugs, peering into the koi pond. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“Aemo, are you serious about this?” About being the next pope.

“Yes,” Aemond replies immediately.

“Because...you know...it would not be the worst thing in the world if Jake got it. Or another moderate, an obscure consensus candidate we could dig up, some old unassuming Italian, the conclave is full of them. And if we pivot now, we might be able to box out Jahoda, even without you.”

“But that’s not what you want.”

Lucky smiles and opens his hands. “I am of the conviction that your gifts are too extraordinary to waste. I think you’re the best of us.”

Aemond averts his gaze as he takes a drag on his cigarette. “I’m not without flaws.”

“Oh, you have them, I’m sure. Pride, wrath, envy, lust.”

“A multitude of earthly motivations.”

Lucky chuckles, a gruff baritone rumble. “And who among us is selfless? Kazi joined the Church because in Poland in 1985, his job options were soldier, coal miner, or priest, and priest was the clear winner. Cam wanted his parents to be proud of him, I wanted a better life in Haiti. And Lando…well…I’m not sure, perhaps that was genuine.” Lucky exhales a plume of smoke and looks at Aemond. “I won’t pretend to know your ignoble reasons for joining the Church, but I’m certain you had them. Mortals don’t often do things out of pure altruism, we are imperfect by design. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still try to make the world better.”

“And you believe my elevation will facilitate that.”

“I do,” Lucky says honestly, then his expression turns fierce. “But you must either commit or get out of the way. You cannot sabotage this conclave and give the Chair of Saint Peter to someone like Jahoda, and you cannot be the pope if you intend to continue indulging your temptations. It is not just a sin, it is murder. When you hurt the Church, you are hurting everyone who might have been saved by it.”

Aemond nods, but he is still distracted. He finishes his cigarette and tosses the end of it into a row of laurel hedges slick with dew. Then he gazes across the gardens at the stone statue of Saint Agatha, eternally young, sinless, vulnerable. He says softly: “I just never thought I’d see her again. I couldn’t remember her name or her hometown, but I knew she wasn’t from Sydney, so how would I ever find her? Then to cross paths with her here...it’s an almost impossible coincidence. And to let her go for the second time seems so wrong. Painful. Intolerable.”

“Do you think I don’t know what it feels like to care for a woman? To love one, even?”

Aemond is stunned; he’s never heard this before. He waits for Lucky to continue like a priest listens silently in the confessional booth.

“I had a girlfriend when I was young,” Lucky says after a while. He kicks away some of the tuff pebbles, drops the end of his cigar in the trough, buries it in the shards of volcanic rock. “And she got pregnant. I couldn’t marry her, I was already planning to join the Church. But I promised that I would provide for her and the baby to the best of my ability. It would have been like Auclair’s situation, you know? Rumors, sure, but that’s all. Visits a few times a week. A child with my face. She took it better than I thought she would, honestly. She understood why I wanted to be a priest, and she knew we would all benefit from my position. She was pragmatic, even at eighteen.”

He has a child? Aemond thinks, astonished. He understands what that’s like?

But no: It would have been like Auclair’s situation, Lucky said. Not it is, not it was.

“She was living with her parents because she couldn’t live with me,” Lucky continues. “And one night when no one else was home, men broke in to rob the house thinking it was empty. They found her, and they killed her, slit her throat down to the vertebrae of her spine. There was no reason for it. She wasn’t trying to stop them or anything. She was hiding in a closet, six months pregnant, just waiting for them to leave. And if she and I had been living together in our own home, she wouldn’t have been there when those men shattered the window and climbed inside. I think about that all the time. It never goes away. Forty years later, and I’m still picking up the phone every day, hearing her father’s voice tell me what happened over and over again.”

The burning in Aemond’s throat makes him think of embers, lava, the gridiron Saint Lawrence was roasted alive on. He lays a gentle palm on his friend’s shoulder. “Lucky, I’m so sorry.”

“There have been times when God spoke to me so clearly it was like He was standing in the same room. And then there were other times...” Lucky closes his eyes for a moment, breathes deeply and unsteadily, shakes his head. “Many, many others, when I heard nothing, and my doubts filled me from my heart all the way down to my fingertips, and it was so heavy and so dark, and it’s contagious, you see, that sort of faithlessness. Contagious and unbearable.” Then, miraculously, he smiles. “But when I saw the news reports about what you did on that island, all those people you saved...parents, children, lovers, friends...all the sudden, it was so much easier to believe. How can one deny the existence of God when a miracle worker walks among us? Fifty witnesses, fifty lives spared, there’s been nothing like it since the ancient times, if you even give credence to those accounts. God has blessed you so abundantly, Aemo. How can we ignore that?”

Aemond lifts his hand from Lucky’s shoulder. What did God have to do with it? “I think I understand,” he says instead.

“In my good moments, I remember the suffering of Christ and all those martyred saints, souls who were so pure and so loved by God, and who were welcomed home by Him when their time came, and who will live on eternally. I have to believe that, Aemo. That we aren’t forsaken, that we aren’t alone, that death isn’t the end. All people have to believe that.”

“Then I’ll do everything I can to win,” Aemond says. When he looks down at the pond again, he sees a dead koi floating there, its scales a vibrant glittering gold. Another one? He gestures to the fish. “Help me bury it.”

Lucky is mystified. “Why?”

So she won’t get in trouble. So they won’t send her away.

“Just help me,” Aemond insists, and Lucky does.

~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s like Whac-A-Mole with all these Italians,” Kazi says over lunch, miming smacking them with a mallet. He means the three candidates that have rapidly surged and then fallen again when it became clear they didn’t have the votes: Cardinal Edoardo Rossi, Cardinal Davide Marino, Cardinal Frederico Abatantuono. The frontrunners remain unchanged; but in the last ballot, only a single vote separated Aemond from Jake, and they both lagged conspicuously behind Jahoda. Lando, now with five silent, anonymous supporters, is clearly stymied.

Outside, it has been drizzling. You and the other nuns are delivering baskets of bread and bowls of Sicilian-style fish stew to the cardinals: garlic and herbs and vegetables and sea bass, capers, golden raisins, a steaming broth of white wine and blood red tomatoes. Across the dining hall, the nonagenarian Cardinal Bogdi Marcu of Romania has spilled soup on himself and Sister Nuru is helping to clean him up. The lean, white-haired Cardinal Auclair is stalking between the tables, pausing to whisper to other cardinals, who frown and nod at whatever he is telling them. You feel your stomach drop, but try not to appear nervous.

He’s duplicitous, and everybody knows it. He’s a sinner, he’s a liar. And he doesn’t have proof of anything.

“How’s it going?” you ask brightly as you set a bowl of stew down in front of Aemond. “I didn’t get to say hi at brekkie.”

You certainly didn’t; he was absorbed in conversations with his companions and had barely looked at you. Now he is still evasive, sipping his glass of water and pretending to brush bread crumbs from the sleeve of his red cassock. Randomly, you wonder what he is wearing under it. Beneath your white wool habit, you have on a simple navy blue cotton skirt and a light jumper, striped with black and white. “Hello, Sister,” Aemond says flatly, fidgeting with the large gold cross that hangs from his neck.

Kazi gives you a brief smile but then resumes his commentary on the revolving door of Italian candidates. Lucky and Cam don’t acknowledge you, in the same way so many cardinals treat the nuns as invisible. You are perplexed; your heartbeat is thudding, hot and ashamed.

What do they know?

“Thank you, Sister,” Lando says quietly as you serve him his stew.

“Everything alright?” you ask Aemond, trying to sound cavalier.

Please don’t ignore me. Please don’t decide this is over.

“I think it’s best to keep some distance for now,” Aemond replies, a low murmur without eye contact.

“Sure.” You steel yourself, keep your expression impassive like a statue’s, then hurry back to the bowls of stew that are still waiting to be delivered. Your white runners squeak against the tile floor. The thin iron chain of your medallion is cold against your throat. Your composure must waver once you’ve turned away from the cardinals; Rhaena is concerned when she sees you.

“Are you good, mate?” she asks.

You force a smile. “Yeah, just a bit knackered.”

“Have a snooze this arvo?”

Before you can reply, there is a loud voice from across the dining hall, Kazi cackling as he points to one of the windows: “Oh look, there is a rainbow outside. No one tell Jahoda, he will spend all afternoon lecturing it about how it is destined for Hell.”

Cardinal Auclair leaps up from where he was hissing to a group of cardinals from Ireland. “Brother, can we desist with this slander? In his work on the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith, Cardinal Jahoda played a pivotal role in the drafting of the Dignitas Infinita of 2024, which condemned violence and discrimination against homosexuals—”

“While the Church itself remains prejudiced against them. How many stones can we hurl from our glass house?”

Auclair smiles patiently, as if he is speaking to a child. “Cardinal Jahoda has unfailingly advocated for the dignity and salvation of every person, no matter how imperfect. Perhaps if you read more, you would know that.”

“I read about how he spoke out against the distribution of condoms, even in the midst of HIV outbreaks,” Kazi flings back.

Jahoda stands, his chair screeching against the floor as he pushes it out. All gazes snap to him. Cardinal Auclair looks on with eyes that flash like silver coins, grinning. “You progressives, you visionaries,” Jahoda growls, his voice deep and commanding. “You will take a system that works for ninety out of a hundred people and burn it to the ground until we can all suffer together. The Bolsheviks promised liberation. The Soviets promised equality. The Enemy wraps sin and chaos in beautiful words and thus we are seduced, but Brothers, we must resist this temptation. Our Faith has endured for two thousand years, but what is the Church without traditions? What should we ask the over one billion Catholics on the planet to believe in if we do not know ourselves, if we are forever redacting and revising and daring to place our weak mortal judgment over God’s?”

Throughout the dining hall cardinals are muttering, some in disapproval, more in concurrence. Kazi rises to his feet. “But the Church is always changing, Brother. Should we never have permitted Mass to be held in local languages, or moved away from our teachings on the divine right of kings, or improved our working relationships with other faiths—?”

“And yet it is this tolerance of other faiths and doctrines that so often imperils the most vulnerable!” Jahoda says, and now some of the cardinals are applauding. “I still remember that summer when Brezhnev’s tanks rolled into my country. I remember helping my neighbors paint over all the road signs so there were none left except those that pointed the way back to Moscow, I remember giving the soldiers wrong directions as they threatened us with their guns, we who were children, we who were having our innocence destroyed before our own eyes.”

Kazi sighs; he’s heard this so many times. “Yes, yes, Brother, we all know you were there in Prague championing democracy—”

“And my father took a bullet for it!” Jahoda thunders, and no one has anything to respond with except hushed awe or reflection or shame, and after a moment Kazi sits down and gives Aemond an apologetic glance like he knows he’s made a mistake.

Maybe Aemond won’t win, you think, and what you feel in your ribcage glowing warm and low like embers might be hope.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Sister!” you hear someone shout frantically, and here comes Sister Penny hurtling out of the Domus Sanctae Marthae just as you are headed there to tend to the washing. There were two more ballots in the afternoon, two clouds of black smoke loosed from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel, and so there is no new Holy Father yet. Dinner is in a few hours. You are ravenous to see Aemond again and yet dreading it; he fills your skull like sea water, stormy, swirling, full of riptides.

What is happening to me? Where can this lead?

“Sister Penny?” you answer. She is characteristically frazzled, strands of unruly red hair escaping from under her veil, her pale freckled face flushed. She canters to you, huffing from the exertion.

“Would you do me a favor, Sister? I’m so sorry to spring it on you like this.”

“No wukkas, mate.”

“Would you please ride with Cardinal Marcu to the airport?” Sister Penny says. You envision him: slow and stooped and shaky, wrinkled, archaic, a relic of a far older Church, here only as an advisor to the cardinals, over eighty and therefore ineligible to vote in the conclave. “He has an urgent medical appointment he can’t reschedule, a CAT scan or something. Sister Augustina had arranged for him to travel home to Romania today, and she promised she’d accompany him to the airport, but obviously she’s not here anymore and I just found out about all of this when I saw Cardinal Marcu in his room packing his suitcase. He’s expecting a chaperone, and I have to supervise the dinner preparations.”

You study the brick wall that surrounds Vatican City. “But I’ll be allowed in again, right?”

“Of course,” Sister Penny assures you. “We have a driver, you’ll stay in the car the whole time. As long as you don’t speak to anyone outside, you haven’t violated your oath of secrecy.”

You smile, relieved. “Beautiful.” No one assisting with the conclave can contact the world beyond the Vatican for any reason aside from an absolute emergency, not even greeting the crowds gathered in Saint Peter’s Square, not even a phone call or a text. To break seclusion is to risk not just expulsion from the conclave but excommunication from the Church, lifelong banishment, perpetual dishonor.

“Assistants from Cardinal Marcu’s parish have flown in and will be there to meet him at the airport and escort him the rest of the way. You’ll just keep him company in the meantime.”

“Schmick.”

“What?”

“Cool, I got it.”

Sister Penny exhales, mollified, and pats your shoulder gratefully. Behind her, you see Cardinal Marcu shuffling out of the Domus Sanctae Marthae with one of the other Romanian cardinals, who is carrying Marcu’s suitcase for him and soaking in those last convoluted ramblings of wisdom. “Thank you so much for your flexibility.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you say cheerfully. “To help.” And as far as Sister Penny knows, that’s true.

Soon a Vatican employee arrives, sitting grim-faced behind the wheel of one of the tiny white Fiat Pandas in a black suit and sunnies. He is heaving Cardinal Marcu’s suitcase into the boot and Sister Penny is wishing the elderly cardinal farewell when you notice Aemond watching from a side street, one of the narrow snaking paved paths draped in the shadows of the buildings. You wander over to meet him when it becomes clear he’s waiting for you to.

Aemond says uncertainly, looking at the gate and then back to you: “You’re breaking seclusion?”

“I’m not breaking anything.”

“But you’re leaving.”

“I’ve been asked to accompany Cardinal Marcu to the airport. I’m not stepping foot outside the car or speaking to anyone else. No phone, no radio, I won’t even roll the windows down. I’m not being unduly influenced. I’m not violating any rules. It’s cruisy, I’ll be back in an hour.”

Aemond glances uneasily at the gate again. “Tell them to send someone else.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have the authority to refuse Sister Penny’s requests. But you do.”

But of course he won’t say anything; he can’t be perceived as interfering on your behalf, he can’t fuel the rumors. And so Aemond only frowns, vexed, conflicted, powerless in a way he so rarely is now.

“Goodbye, Cardinal Targaryen,” you quip as you turn away.

But he’s not done yet. “What if something happens and they won’t let you back into Vatican City?”

“You can’t talk to me anyway, so why do you care?”

Aemond doesn’t reply. He only watches you leave, his remaining blue eye fixed and brooding.

You spin around and walk backwards a few steps. “See you at dinner,” you say with a smirk. “From a distance, of course.” Then you whirl towards the car, your white habit gusting in the brisk December wind. On the periphery of your vision, the red pillar that is Aemond stalls a moment longer and then strides off in the direction of the Domus Sanctae Marthae. From the other side of the brick wall, you can hear that the crowds gathered in Saint Peter’s Square with their signs and their prayers and their candles are singing Joy To The World.

You climb into the back seat of the Fiat, and there the prehistoric Cardinal Bogdi Marcu is eagerly awaiting you. You have the sense he would be just as pleased to see Sister Rhaena, or Sister Penny, or Sister Nuru, or Sister Helvi, or anyone else, really; he just doesn’t want to be alone. This is one of the great triumphs of the Church, however marred it may be by the inexhaustible failings of mankind. You get a family for life, and it is over a billion souls strong.

As the driver exits Vatican City via a skinny paved street—passing through a gate monitored by the Swiss Guard—and follows the perimeter of Saint Peter’s Square, Cardinal Marcu points with gnarled arthritic hands and describes the features to you: nearly three hundred marble columns encircling the piazza, cobblestones made of volcanic basalt, two fountains, an ancient Egyptian obelisk that has stood at the center since the 1500s. Then he begins yammering about the horribly sinful shows he’s stumbled across recently while home in Romania—Big Brother, Survivor, Love Island—and how there’s been no decency on television since that shameless American president spoke about his affair with a White House intern, something Cardinal Marcu seems to think transpired just a few years ago. You smile and nod along politely.

Ordinarily, the ride to Leonardo da Vinci International Airport would only take half an hour, but traffic is bad and many of the roads near the Vatican are closed or altered to accommodate the tens of thousands of tourists who have made the pilgrimage here to witness the ascension of the next pope. From the back seat, you watch Cardinal Marcu toddle out of the Fiat and into the waiting arms of two assistants, and by the time you’ve returned to Saint Peter’s Square, dusk is descending and the sky is pink and gold. The driver sighs as he waits in a long line of taxis, the route blocked by a tour bus that took a wrong turn and is now being directed by a fleet of police officers to spin around on the narrow street. Your driver, avoiding the radio, turns up the volume as he listens to an Andrea Bocelli CD. You have the ludicrous temptation to ask: Can you play some Bruce Springsteen? Can you play Atlantic City?

From the far end of the piazza, you gaze at the façade of Saint Peter’s Basilica, where statues of Christ and his apostles preside over the sea of congregants with their flickering candles and their handwritten signs. You see supporters of Cardinal Jahoda waving miniature flags of the Czech Republic and Hungary and Germany, Jake’s followers from Lebanon and Jordan and Syria and Cyprus, Aemond’s devotees from Greece and Italy and the United States. One woman’s poster reads, alongside a newspaper article about what happened on Nea Kameni framed in blue glitter glue: I believe in miracles!

As car horns blare and the driver mutters in Italian, your eyes trace the perimeter of the square. Perched atop the marble columns like benevolent gargoyles are the statues of over a hundred saints: Saint Lawrence who was roasted alive on a gridiron, Saint Sebastian who was pierced by arrows, Saint Lucy whose eyes were gouged out, Saint Thomas Aquinas who died comfortable and revered. Absentmindedly, you touch the plain iron medallion that hangs from your neck. You wonder which of the statues is Saint Agatha.

A small, flimsy-looking metal fence separates the road from the entrance to the pedestrian area. The Fiat rolls forward a few sluggish meters, then stops again. The driver groans. You have to get all the way around the piazza before you can enter Vatican City via one of the stone gates manned by the Swiss Guard. You imagine—against your will, and yet undeniably—that Aemond is waiting there, anxious to ensure that you are granted reentry and thus your stolen time together is not yet over.

“I can walk from here,” you offer, before you remember that isn’t allowed.

“Stay in the car, Sister,” the driver barks in a thick Italian accent, then he gets out and slams the door shut behind him. Through the windshield, you watch him jog over to where the tour bus is still blocking the road and start shouting at the police officers. At first they yell back, then the driver shows them a badge identifying him as a Vatican employee and the police officers are suddenly much more accommodating, pointing him towards a side street that is blocked off by orange traffic barrels but will presumably be opened for him.

As you wait for the driver to return to the Fiat, you peer through the window at the crowd again. It is beginning to thin out, now that today’s ballots are past and twilight is approaching. The sky is turning fiery, blood orange and incandescent amber. The driver is walking back to the car and the traffic barrels are being moved aside. Your eyes catch on a group of Filipino tourists carrying massive cardboard cutouts with Lando’s face on them, and they are laughing as they chat with each other and share a package of Sky Flakes, and you smile and then—

There is a vicious jolt, the shriek of metal on metal, and the Fiat is spinning as it crashes through the metal barrier and into Saint Peter’s Square. Pedestrians are screaming and running; your head whips around and cracks against the window, and for a few seconds the pain is blinding, your vision black and your hands flying up to cushion your skull, and when you start getting glimpses of the world again you see just enough to realize what has happened: a lost tour bus has rocketed out of the side street and collided with the car, and as the bus squeals to a stop near the edge of the piazza, the whirling Fiat smashes sideways into one of the massive marble columns. The door you’ve been pinned against by the centrifugal force caves in; you are thrown from your seat and then yanked back by the seatbelt so forcefully the air is wrenched out of your lungs. You gasp for breath, letting your head rest against the cool window.

You think nonsensically, your skull hammering: I’m just going to have a quick snooze.

Your eyes dip shut for what could only be a minute or two. Muffled through the mangled car, there is the distorted, dreamlike warbling of voices: Italian, English, other languages too. You don’t want to wake up; being conscious is where the pain is, and the weights dragging you down into the darkness are overwhelming, intoxicating.

It’s too hot. Why is it so hot?

Your eyes flutter open, and what you see through the car window is rising threads of black smoke and the dusk-colored radiance of flames. Pedestrians from the square are pounding on the doors and shouting that there is a nun trapped inside.

That nun is me, you think dazedly, and then you lurch into full and horrifying alertness.

You click off your seatbelt and bolt across the back seat; both doors on your side of the Fiat are barred by the marble column. You unlock the door from the inside and then yank the handle...but the door remains closed. You try again, and again, and the car is getting hotter. It’s no use. The impact of the bus warped the door somehow and now it’s stuck, and you can’t get free. Pedestrians are pulling on the outside handle and trying to bust out the window, some are attempting to roll the car away from the marble column to unblock the other doors. The flames are growing taller, and now there is so much smoke the faces of the people trying to save you are obscured.

You scramble over the center console and into the passenger’s seat, where you tug franticly on the handle. This door won’t open either; you are imprisoned, you are entombed. The people outside are backing away as the heat becomes unbearable. They are calling for firefighters who will be able to extinguish the flames or pry a door open or break a window, but by then it will be too late.

“No!” you scream, pounding your fists on the window. “No, don’t leave! Don’t give up yet! I’m still alive in here, please help me!”

But the fire is scorching, the fire is lethal; the metal inside the car is hot enough to scald you when you touch it. You are in an oven. You are dying. You are Saint Joan of Arc tied to the stake; you are Saint Lawrence being roasted alive.

“Help me!” you sob, beating your hands against the window. Sweat is slick on your palms and pouring down your face. Your skin is flushed and burning. The rubber soles of your runners are melting into the floor. “Help! Someone help, please!”

But your would-be rescuers are gone. No one can withstand the flames. You can just barely decipher their silhouettes through the wall of thick, churning grey.

You curl up against the window, fumble your rosary out of the pocket of your habit, and clasp the white pearl beads, taking deep trembling breaths into your lungs. Dark acrid smoke sears your trachea and capillary beds. Sweat stings when it streams down into your eyes.

“I’m not ready to go,” you tell God in a choked, terrified whisper. “Please don’t abandon me. I’m not ready, I’m not ready. There are too many things I haven’t done yet.”

And then you see him cut through the smoke like a red blade, undaunted by the inferno, moving swiftly so he won’t be consumed by it, won’t be claimed, won’t be incinerated. The fire glows on his face; the flames are reflected in the blue of his eye. Aemond rips his gold cross off his neck and then there is a clang and a snapping sound; later, you will learn that he shoved the cross into the door gap and struck it with the heel of his hand so hard he split his palm to the bone. The car door pops open, and you collapse into his arms.

You try to flee from the blaze with Aemond, but you can’t walk; your knees and ankles buckle, your skull is throbbing and the world spiraling. You stumble and Aemond grabs you, drags you, pulls you singlehandedly back from the brink of oblivion.

He’s on fire, you think dizzily as the smoke begins to clear and the clamoring pedestrians reappear, shouting in relief and astonishment.

“That’s him!” you can hear people saying. “That’s Cardinal Aemond Targaryen!”

Aemond feels the heat of the flames licking on his shoulders and rips off his cassock, and it billows in the wind like a red sail. Underneath he has on black trousers and a white dress shirt, the top few buttons torn open in the turmoil, a small gold medallion glinting against his bare chest. You’ve never seen this before. Through the haze of shock and smoke and pain, you wonder who he is wearing.

Aemond realizes before you do that the wool of your white habit has caught fire, and in seconds he has tugged it off of you; but underneath your navy blue cotton skirt and light jumper are smoldering too.

Is he going to strip me? you think, disoriented. Here in front of everybody?

But no, Aemond has other ideas; he hauls you into the cold pattering water of one of the fountains and splashes into the pool with you, cradling you as you sputter and shake violently, the adrenaline evaporating, the agony in your skull and spine all-consuming. You are crying as you cling to him. Your rosary is still tangled in your fingers. By the marble column, the Fiat is now entirely engulfed in flames. The sirens of firetrucks are approaching.

I almost died. And if that was the very end, what regrets would I have?

“I’m here, I’m here,” Aemond is saying, taking the pins out so he can remove your veil, smoothing back your hair with the hand he’s not yet aware he is hemorrhaging from, blood pouring from his palm like a stigmata. “You’re safe now. Shh, you’re alright. Nobody will hurt you. I’ll never let anything hurt you.”

Cardinal Seaborn appears, panting from his sprint across the piazza. His crimson cassock is rumpled and his zucchetto blown away, his face furious. Behind him, the metallic shell of the Fiat burns luminously. “You broke seclusion!” he booms at Aemond. “You could be disqualified! You could be excommunicated!”

“Then do it!” Aemond roars back, his blood running down your face, copper on your lips, scarlet salt on your tongue.

But of course, Cardinal Seaborn cannot dismiss him, this man who has just performed his second miracle and will so effortlessly be declared a saint upon his death. Pedestrians have gathered around the fountain like pilgrims to a holy site and are taking photos and video clips, they are cheering, they are praying, and they are chanting loudly enough that even the cardinals inhumed within the walls of Vatican City must be able to hear: “Targaryen, Targaryen, Targaryen!”

You murmur to Aemond as he holds you, icy water lapping at your charred jumper, your skirt fanning out like a koi fish’s tail: “Well, you’re defo going to win now.”

And then there in the fountain, as the dusk sky spins high above, you black out and sink into an infinite, starless sea of silence.

[shroompette]

It's not like his mates didn't know about you; Soap always bragged about the sweet little bird he had at home. They just had no idea that he was being...literal.

After the latest successful mission, Johnny invited them for a dinner at his place. They arrive around seven, with bottles and flowers as gifts for the missus, but she's nowhere to be found when Johnny beckons them inside. "She'll be here any minute. Bird gets antsy if she doesn't have a flight before dinner." He opens the window wide and peeks out, as if looking for you. Ghost huffs. "She a bloody Batman or something?"

Johnny simply chuckles and crosses his arms on his chest, leaning against the radiator.

Not even five minutes later, a tiny European robin lands on the inside windowsill. They recognize the bird; it was Johnny's favourite to draw. At least that's what they assumed when they watched him flip through his art book during missions. Pages and pages of birds, but this specific one appeared the most often; raven, cardinal, canary, robin, crow, swan, robin, robin, blue tit, swallow, robin, woodpecker, robin, hummingbird, pigeon, robin, robin, robin...

"Aye, there's my little feathery luvie," Johnny coos, finger gently stroking down the orange patch on the bird's chest.

Gaz and Price exchange a slightly concerned look while Ghost gives him a deadpan stare.

"I told you, one of these days, you'll stand too close to an explosion and it's gonna fuck with your head."

Johnny glances at him briefly, opening his palm and letting the robin hop into it. "Dinnae know what yer talking about."

"Son," Price began, a tired look on his face. "You...you don't think of the bird as your partner, do you?"

"What else would she be?" he questions, looking genuinely surprised, as if there's nothing unusual about claiming the little chirping thing in his hand is his girlfriend.

Gaz lets out a snort of disbelief, unsure if he should laugh or be seriously concerned for his friend.

Before anyone can say anything else, the robin flaps its wings and its form contorts into a human shape. Suddenly, there you stand. Dolled up and dressed in a cute little flowery dress, a bright smile on your face. The men sit there completely flabbergasted while Johnny, wearing the most shit-eating grin ever, leans in and kisses the top of your head before introducing you: "Guys, this is my darling bird."

After fumbling out awkward apologies and introducing themselves, the men dine with you two, asking how you met and where you're from. They're surprised to learn Johnny came across you while he took a trip to his motherland during leave.

When he wasn't with his family, he'd spend the days in the forest, sketching whatever caught his eye. At one point, it was you. A cute little thing, perched up on a branch, singing sweet melodies to which he started responding with whistling. That supposedly caught your attention and you started posing while he sketched you. This would happen daily for nearly a week before you flew down and sat on his shoulder, looking at all the drawings of you, seemingly pleased.

One day, he brought you a pebble. It was just a goof, a funny little thing he remembered his superstitious granny saying whenever he'd walk with her in the nature as a little lad and point out all the different birds in the trees. "If ye give a pebble to a female robin, she'll bring ye a pretty lass to cherish."

He was eager to see what you'd do with it and nearly fell on his ass when you shifted to a human in front of him in all your naked glory, holding the pebble in your palm, eyes sparkling and soft chirps flowing from your mouth. He had a very difficult time explaining to his Ma and siblings who this bare lady clinging to his arm was when he brought you home.

You still chirp when you talk, but your speech is pretty clear. Soap looks like a lovestruck puppy, heart-eyed, hanging onto your words and you're no better; pressed against his side at all times, batting your lashes and holding his hand under the table, your ring finger adorned by a golden band with the fateful (proposal) pebble in the middle.

masterlist

[michelle-is-writing]

Concussions, Greg House

Word count: 1.7k~

Warnings: mentions of vomit, concussion, hospital rooms.

Arguing with your boss is one of the worst things you can do with your boss. For my boyfriend of almost a year, it was nothing new. Plus, in Greg's mind, there were worse things one could do with their time. Like argue with me, his girlfriend - that was much worse than arguing with his boss, according to him.

Still, that didn't mean that he could always get away with arguing with his boss. Especially around Christmas time when the hours were needed and he just so happened to be an asshole. Anyone could figure out why I was upset when he told me he was unable to get Christmas Day off. He just had to be rude to Cuddy the day before he asked, and because of it, we both have to suffer.

Despite him promising to call me almost every hour, I still felt lonely when it came to Christmas Day. I woke up without the love of my life beside me, and I'll be alone until he gets home around nine in the evening. When Cuddy told him she couldn't give up the hours, he was especially rude in response, therefore earning more hours to work that day.

Right now it's around eleven in the morning, and even though I've put on a Christmas movie and made myself hot cocoa, I still feel sad. I have no one to spend this great day with, and it sucks. Maybe a nice walk outside will help me feel better. It's cold and snowing, but I can always wear a heavy coat and boots - no biggie. Besides, I may even see a pair of cardinals flying through the white sky like a holiday card straight from the hallmark section, and it would make the weather all the worth it.

Slipping on my fuzzy black boots that Greg got me at the beginning of our relationship, I throw on my fleece coat before heading out front. The lights strung on everyone's apartment are lit up, and the people that have their Christmas trees in front of their windows have them lit up as well. The green and red bulbs are a nice contrast to the white snow that fills every window sill and yard, making it look almost like a floating blanket on all the little segments of grass. It's such a beautiful sight to see, but it makes me miss Greg even more. He's always pessimistic, but even he would be happy with the looks of everything.

Stepping off the steps and onto the pavement, I take a few steps forward, only to look up and see a pair of cardinals flying above me just like I wanted. I marvel at the beautiful red shade of the male next to the equally beautiful olive colored female floating next to it. When they find their mates, a pair of cardinals can never be separated as they are mated for life. The idea of such a thing makes you smile, but the idea of finding your own true mate? It feels nearly impossible.

I seem to find the cardinals very distracting as the next thing I see is the pure white sky above me as I feel myself slip, my arms and legs flailing to grab onto something as I fall backward. However, they don't, and I end up landing on my back with my head colliding against the ice I slipped on. Everything happens so fast that I barely recognize the pain rushing to my cranium or mine and Greg's elderly neighbor rushing toward me as concerned words flow out of her mouth. Despite wanting to respond, I can't, and instead, my eyes close as I feel myself slip into a vast sea on unconsciousness.

It isn't until I finally wake up once again that I register the pounding pain in the back of my head. It nearly makes my eyes roll back, but before I can even do that, I quickly lean over the edge of the surface I'm lying on and feel the contents of my stomach empty. I soon feel a pair of hands gently pull my hair back as I do so, my eyes clearing up enough to watch a nurse’s legs in purple scrubs quickly push a trash can in front of me to finish vomiting into. However, it doesn't take long before I’m done and I almost fall back onto the slightly stiff surface I'm on, a damp cloth wiping at my mouth once I do so. Flashing my eyes throughout the room, I recognize the bright fluorescent lights above me as ones used in a hospital room and the surface I'm on is one of the uncomfortable beds in a hospital room. Great.

Turning my eyes over to the source of the hand holding the wet cloth, I find it to be the man I've been wanting to see all morning, a worried look etched onto his face. I want to fling myself in his arms and hug him, but my almost drunken haze prohibits me from doing so. Instead, I languidly smile and tiredly reach a hand up toward him, to which he takes in his own hand with a small smile.

"How in the hell," he begins, his voice taking over the almost stuffy noise in my ears. Gently running his thumb against the back of my hand, he takes the damp rag away from my face before tossing it onto the lid of the biohazard bin a few feet away. "Did you get yourself a grade two concussion just by walking outside?"

"I didn't mean to," I defend myself, trying to sit up a little, despite the deep pounding in my head. Greg helps me, but not before pushing my head back against the pillows to angle my face upward. "I just wanted to go for a small walk, and see some cardinals maybe! I did, by the way, and man, were they beautiful."

"You seem to be doing better than I thought," Greg points out, hovering over me to look into my eyes with a flash light. "No confusion or seemingly dizziness," he lists off. "You just seem fatigued and dazed, which is to be expected. The good news is you don't have memory loss."

"Who are you again?" I quickly throw at him, earning a downcast face with a frown. I immediately laugh at his reaction while reaching up to take his face in my hands, but his hands catch mine before they're even halfway there. I really am tired.

"I would say you're also having some psychological disturbances, but it's nothing different from usual," Greg jokes back, making me laugh again. At this, he smiles, but continues on. "How bad is your head pain?"

"Compared to the constant headache you give me, it's nothing," I tell him, once again, earning an eye roll in response. I know he's wanting to throw playful insults back at me, but he's trying to keep the moment as serious as he can. Don't get me wrong, I understand how severe my situation is, but I just can't help but take the chance to banter with Greg like he usually does with me.

With a sigh, Greg sits back in the armchair beside my hospital bed before taking something out of his pocket. "You just had to hit your head so you could end up in the hospital with me today," Greg chides, holding the rectangular box in his hand as he stares at it. "I guess irony plays a huge part in life's never ending game of... slipping and falling on ice!"

With his sarcastic comment, Greg pushes the box toward me as I smile at him, my hand reaching out to take the box from him. "Open it," Greg tells me, scooting his chair beside me to be closer to my bed. Doing as he says, I shakily unwrap the green ribbon from the box before slightly struggling to open it, my hands trembling from being asleep for so long.

With the maroon velvet box now open, I gasp upon seeing the diamond tennis bracelet shining back at me with the bright hospital room lights causing each beautiful crystal to sparkle like a thousand pieces of glitter. "Oh my God, Greg," I mutter, my eyes flashing over to him beside me. "This is... beyond gorgeous."

Smiling, Greg lifts one of his hands to brush my hair away from my face before using the other to take the bracelet out of the box and secure it around my wrist. "Merry Christmas," He tells me, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "I thought you would like this."

"I-I love it, Greg," I tell him, looking over at him with a frown. "But I don't have my gift for you! They're at the apartment and-and I wanted to give it to you so bad-"

Greg cuts me off from my rambling, an almost flabbergasted expression washing over his face. "Are you kidding?" He sarcastically asks me, reaching over to take my now diamond covered hand in his. "You ending up in the hospital with me is possibly the best thing you could do today, as morbid as it sounds," Crinkling my face at him with amusement, I shake my head at his demented words as he continues on. "This means I don't have to do what Cuddy says and stay in here with you and watch I Love Lucy."

Just as he says this, Greg takes the remote from the side table and turns the TV on, flipping through the channels before finding the show mentioned seconds earlier. Glancing away from our intertwined hands, I smile at Greg as he turns to look back at me as well. "I love you, Greg," I tell him, receiving a smile back before he leans over once more and presses a kiss to my cheek.

Sitting back in his chair, Greg keeps my hand in his as we both look over to the TV and watch as Lucy banters with Ricky just as Greg and I did moments ago. At this, I smile and ignore the pain in my head as I enjoy the positives of today despite being in a hospital. My loving partner beside me, a beautiful diamond bracelet on my wrist, and I Love Lucy reruns on the TV in front of us. As long as I'm with Greg, it doesn't matter where I spend my Christmas - just as long as he's by my side, I'll be fine.

[loveemagicpeace]

🎸🏠🏝️Life Events 🧜🏼‍♀️🍓🌙

🎨You Identity🎨

Your rising sign shows how u respond to the world and how u see yourself. It shows how other people see you when they first get to know you. Having Gemini rising means that you can quickly create contacts and can quickly communicate with others. Having Scorpio rising means that you have very intense way of how you see others around you. U feel things very deeply. And you can be very secretive.

Planets in your 1st house they symbolize the influence on your personality. And they are also visible to others and sometimes others notice them more than you yourself. If you have Venus in your 1st house you might come across as charming. And your value can be very much in the spotlight. You can also embody a lot of feminine energy. With Mars in your 1st house you can come forward sharper, quick-tempered and brave. You can give off a lot of masculine energy.

If you have aspects with you ascendant those can strongly colour your identity and how you feel the world out there responds to you.

🌇Change🌇

Certain signs respond to change more favourably than others. In particular, the signs of Taurus, Cancer, and Scorpio are conscious of security in one form or another, and will tend to hold on rather than let things flow. If you have personal planets here, the devil you know might feel more reassuring than a change of scene. By contrast, Aries or Gemini welcomes periodic change.

The cardinal signs- Aries tends to deal best with change, having all the fiery impetus of being the first sign. Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn possess the cardinal capacity to get on with things, but the cardinal signs prefer to be in control. For a person with personal planets in cardinal signs, change tends to be welcome only if it has been self-initiated.

The fixed signs -Lots of fixity in a chart suggests a tendency to stay with what you know, come hell or high water. The instinct of the fixed signs is to stabilize - the winds of change might blow around, but the person remains anchored.

The mutable signs -These usually respond positively when change is in the air. If you have personal planets in these signs, you probably hate for things to be static and will spontaneously generate movement in order to reassure yourself that there is always an alternative - even if this is just to move the furniture around from time to time or choose a different place to go on holiday.

🎑9th house- believing in what you can't see🎑

Planets in the 9th house give clues as to how you might feel about encountering the unknown. Whenever we are faced with making future plans, setting off on a long journey, or having to hold a vision of something yet to unfold, our 9th house is conjured. So whatever planets you have here, and the sign on the cusp, will mediate this for you.

With Saturn for instance, trust in these things might not flow naturally. You can have a lot of problems with really believing in something. With Uranus, you might actively seek the thrill of the strange and the unfamiliar. With Sun you may find your happy place somewhere across the sea. You can get married in another country and a lot of joy comes into your life through travel. You are very open in life with things that brings you joy. With Mercury you may find very inspiring going for a short trips every now and then. You can study in another country and are very good with languages.

🫀Troubled times🫀

In the 8th house we can find clues here as to how we react when the pressure is on. More accurately perhaps, it describes a journey into dark places, whether this is the maestrom of a divorce, financial crisis, or experiences of grief and bereavement.

The 8th house is the dragon's lair and any planets here are forged in the heat of that encounter. Even with no planets here, you can look to the sign on the cup of this house, and the planetary ruler of that sign, to tell you how you approach life's more extreme experiences and some of the key resources you might call on when things fall apart.

If you have Mercury in the 8th house then it might be an advantage to have a guide in the underworld - a counsellor or therapist, friends with good listening skills or knowledge of the terntory, or even just keeping a diary or personal record as a way of sorting through and understanding emotional experiences. If you have Venus in 8th house you can be very cautious in love and at the same time you can experience a lot of transformation through other people.

Or with Capricorn on the cusp of the 8th, you no doubt have a stoic approach to hard times, with the ability to lay aside your own feelings if someone else really needs your help. The position of your 8th house ruler Saturn in your chart gives clues as to how you can flex this stoicism even further, helping you to stabilize and feel rooted and secure.

💘Emotions💕

The Moon is the barometer of your inner feelings and describes gut reaction and also what you need in order to feel nurtured and safe. Anxiety arises when the Moon is under pressure. If you have the Moon in Scorpio for example, your instinct might be to cope with trouble alone, shutting yourself off so that you can draw deeply from your own resources. Or with Moon in Libra, you can nurture yourself by trying to create harmony and balance, even if this is just for one precious hour each week in a yoga class. The more difficult life gets, the more we need to pay attention to the Moon's promptings, through its particular realms of food, rest, and self-care.

The Sun -keeping our eyes on the prize can be a good way of seeing ourselves through troubled times. There has been the idea that a human life unfolds, that we begin as a seed containing its own purpose, and that the trials and tribulations we encounter along the way are in fact an integral part of the journey. The Sun in particular in the central light in your chart, whatever you are in the process of becoming.

Venus square to Saturn suggests that the desire nature has somehow not been given room to grow, which in relationships might emerge as barriers to intimacy or believing that one is unlovable. Or Neptune opposite the Sun might reflect a sense of loss in connection to father and therefore a longing for the masculine power which the Sun represents. These kinds of deeper dynamics can become crystallized as entrenched beliefs we have about ourselves, about other people, or about life itself. Self-awareness helps to release us from these

Home

The 4th house describes both your home of origin and the one you have created (or will create) for yourself. It is both the bricks and mortar and the atmosphere and dynamic that binds the family unit. This is also the tap root down into your history: your genealogy and family tree. Whatever planets reside here, and planets conjunct to the IC (the cusp of the 4th) will form your foundations

The MC and 10th house lie opposite the 4th house and between them they denote the idea of parents - mother traditionally in the 10th and father traditionally in the 4th, but we might take the view that whichever parent provided 4th house things (security, lineage, surname) belongs in the 4th, and whichever parent provided 10th house things (socialization, authority, plans for the future) belongs in the 10th, which for most of us is likely to be both parents. Just as the 4th describes the kind of home we create for ourselves, so the 10th will describe what kind of parent you might become, taking control and responsibility.

Home

Taurus in 4th house- you like a stable, comfortable home and perhaps a life somewhere close to nature and somewhere that is peaceful and relaxing. You are usually used to a stable life and can live a more luxurious life. You have to feel the home to live in it. A home can contain lots of greenery, a garden, a balcony, and a home where you feel safe. You may also enjoy filling your space with art, flowers, and elegant decorative pieces.

Aries in 4th house- Your home may be very busy, you may move a lot and changing homes may be quite frequent. You are used to living a lively, chaotic life. Your home can be very fiery and full of life. Your home might reflect your active personality with bright colors, bold designs, or minimalistic yet functional decor. Your home can be a place for action, self-expression, and renewal— a space where you regroup and prepare for your next adventure

Pisces in 4th house-Your home may have a soft, calming, and almost magical atmosphere. You may feel drawn to incorporating water elements into your home, such as aquariums, fountains, or artwork featuring oceans, lakes, or rivers. Alternatively, you might enjoy secluded spots even within bustling cities.

Capricorn in 4th house-your home is more than just a physical space—it's a foundation for stability and achievement. You may strive to build a secure and structured home environment, emphasizing discipline and tradition. Your home may have a classic, understated style.

-Rebekah🧜🏼‍♀️💕🎨