#the band itself would be his mother's engagement band

[dylanconrique]

tim using his connections as a cop to get a custom made engagement ring for lucy that matches the ring.

[shadowqueenjude]

Well, I’m working on a fic for Eris week which takes place a little over three centuries before the canon series. It is Eris x OC arranged marriage, and here is the prologue. I’ll post it on ao3 once I finish writing the fic.

Asha stood arms spread, legs apart, and eyes straight ahead as the tailor took her measurements, or rather, a floating tape measure did. The tailor just stood there, looking up at her, eyes narrowed and ears flattened against her head. “Arre yaar, you are huge,” she remarked. Asha sighed. She was used to this kind of comment.

In actuality, Asha was not that big. She was tall, but not incredibly so. However, most people in the Dawn Court were quite petite, so she looked massive in comparison. Her height combined with her broad shoulders and large bust size made fitting traditional Dawn Court clothing difficult; hence the tailor.

“I can have this dress done in fourteen days,” the tailor said. Asha pursed her lips, tilting her head downward to meet the tailor’s eyes. “I need it in ten.”

“It’ll cost extra.”

“Just get it done,” Asha said, handing her the dress material and grabbing her bag she had left on the sofa. She walked towards the door, the light falling upon her skin the wrong way, revealing the multicolored hue of it. Looking back at the tailor, she saw the small shifter swallow nervously.

Gorgon. Asha was half Gorgon. She had been conceived while her mother was blindfolded to her faerie lover. It would be a disturbing story to anyone not familiar with the Faerie, but in Prythian, the story was positively romantic: a gorgon choosing to lose her sight to be with the one she loved.

Unfortunately, gorgons were well hated by the High Fae, and she and her husband had been murdered in a brutal incident resulting in twenty dead faeries.

Hence she’d been taken in by her much older cousin, whose mother had been her father’s sister. He was also the current High Lord of Dawn: Thesan Abhiraaj.

So, she was practically a princess; only she had no High Fae blood, and was therefore highly resented. She had to try extra hard to fit in amongst them. Her gorgon blood did wonders in the intimidation side of things. Since she was only half gorgon, it was nearly impossible for her to kill someone with the look of an eye, but she could paralyze the person she looked upon when provoked to rage. Hence, no one dared cross her, though they may not like her.

“Relax, I am not going to kill you,” Asha said disdainfully. She did grow weary of being terrifying sometimes. She swept out the door, stepping out into the lovely dawn.

In the light, the tawny color of her skin faded, revealing the green and purple scales that went all across her body. The three small snakes in her head took refuge behind her thick dark curls. Her black hair and eyes glowed bronze in the sun. Bands of lavender flowers wrapped around various parts of her arms. The gold threads on her tunic shone, giving the white churidar the dazzling look of a goddess. Small ruby hoops hung from her ears. This was just the every day look of a Dawn Court princess.

Princess being honorary. Asha was certain most princesses didn’t work as healers on a daily basis. Princess duties were unbearably boring; she needed something to occupy her time.

She got her fair share of looks while walking back to the palace; some nasty, some in awe, but Asha ignored them all, floating back into the palace.

Inside the palace, her snake features faded once more. Sending a tired wave to her cousin and his lover, Abhijit, Asha went towards her room before flopping onto her bed. Not very ladylike, but no one was watching her here. She was too tired even to change; this impending meeting under the mountain was stressing her out.

She wasn’t really stressed over the meeting itself; she had been to loads of those. However, this was to be no ordinary meeting between courts.

If all things went her way, by the end of the meeting she would be engaged.

Did she have a special someone in mind? No. She would be marrying for influence and power. Horrible? Maybe, but royalty rarely had a choice. It was better to know what you were getting into than holding out for love or whatever. Asha didn’t really believe in all of that. Jaded? You might think so, but no. She’s just never really experienced any sort of attraction before. Platonic love she had. Romantic love? Never before. So the prospect of an arranged marriage didn’t much bother her.

Asha woke up the next day quite late. Most injuries to a Fae could be healed by their own magic, so any injury so bad that it requires a healer meant long-term patients.

She put on her usual forest-green robes, tying her hair up and putting on her running shoes. Then she walked out through the secret exit from her room to avoid people.

Asha didn’t have as many patients as some others because people didn’t like being treated by a gorgon, but that was alright with Asha; she liked a light workload, after all. Unlike the High Fae, she could not winnow, so she jumped onto her pegasus and soared into the sky.

Her pegasus had golden brown fur and exceptionally rare blue eyes. She was missing one leg, which she lost when tigers of the forest nearly killed her while she was grazing. She managed to escape and fly into the sky, but she’d lost so much blood that she was barely alive when Asha found her and healed her. Then, her friend Nuan managed to make her a prosthetic leg and save her life. Asha would never stop being grateful to her.

Her first patient of the day was the elderly faerie Yogesh. He was once one of the High Fae, but he had now reached an age so high that his body had actually started to deteriorate and fade away. At that age, society generally did not consider anyone High Fae. The term High Fae in itself was an elitist term created to tear down those they believed to be of a lesser class, so it made sense that they’d view faeries who broken down, which was practically unheard of, less than.

Yogesh was 877 years old. It was a miracle he was still alive; most faeries got killed off by the time they reached 500. He had some wrinkles on his face and silver hair, but the real signs of age were in his body. Everything hurt for him, so it was Asha’s job to alleviate the pain.

“More back pain?” she asked as he walked in, a slight grimace on his face. He shook his head. “It’s the knees this time,” he muttered. Asha linked her arm in his and guided him over to a chair. After he managed to sit down, Asha lifted her palms, which had begun to glow with her magic. “How is your daughter?” Asha asked as she placed her hands on his knees. It served as a distraction, yes, but it was also important to address potential mental setbacks to physical recovery. Yogesh and his daughter had been on icy terms ever since he’d expressed serious disapproval over her marriage to a woman of lower birth. Ever since he’d lost his status as High Fae, he’d begun to realize how foolish his hyper fixation with the High Fae was and that he’d messed up with his daughter. Too little too late? Maybe for his daughter to forgive him, but not to be a better person. For that part, it was never too late.

Yogesh, to her delight, beamed. “She actually let me visit her yesterday. It was extremely awkward for a while, but then her wife initiated conversation between us. She is actually quite civilized and a great partner. I am glad I am getting to know her, even if it’s very late.”

“It is never too late to improve, Yogesh,” Asha said kindly. Her work was simple today because neither his mind nor his body were fighting back. “It takes a strong person to admit when they’re wrong.”

Yogesh patted Asha’s cheek. “You are always so kind, kid. Your parents are lucky to have you.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Asha replied. The old fae let out a wheezy chuckle. “You know there’s no need to call me that.” No, there wasn’t, but Asha sensed how much it pleased Yogesh. Her healing magic gave her a heightened sense of the emotional states of others. “It is a habit,” Asha quipped. Then she stood up. “You’re all done. Have a good day, my lord!”

After a couple more patients, including one little kid who had been attacked in the woods and a human relative of a faerie who was rehabilitating his legs (brought all the way from the human lands too; that level of care for a human relative was exceptionally rare), Asha was done for the day. She went over to hang out in her friend Nuan’s studio.

“So I was thinking, judging by the wingspan of your horse, if we were to do a proportional equation to the size of an average faerie, blah blah blah,” Nuan said, or at least it was what Asha heard. She didn’t understand anything her friend did, but she supported it wholeheartedly. Nuan’s arm had been cut off by her own abusive father, whose rage had known no bounds due to his own unstable upbringing. She had spent years making prosthetics for various people who needed them; her own personal project was making wings. Winged beasts were native both to Dawn and to Night. Illyrian women get their wings cut off by the men in their family, which is why the project was so personal to her.

“Perfection,” Asha said. Nuan snorted. “You have no idea what I just said, do you?”

Asha shrugged. “It sounded smart, though,” she assured her. She walked over to her station, where Nuan appeared to be building a circuit. She looked past her shoulder at Nuan. “That reminds me. I have a gift for you. For the upcoming party thing.” Asha snorted, trying not to snarl at the thought. She was so not looking forward to that shit. She didn’t like gatherings in general, but this one was particularly stress inducing. Getting engaged to a stranger would do that to you.

She needed to get one of the good eligible men, not one of the wicked men summoned from the most fiery depths of hell.

“What is it?” In answer, Nuan pulled out a crown. It didn’t look like much, but Nuan shone a lamp on it and it shone like the brightest star on the darkest night. In the ballroom, it would look magnificent.

“Wow,” Asha said, staring at it. “That is stunning.”

“It enhances your beauty when you wear it. It also doubles as a knife,” Nuan said casually. “Since you’re not allowed weapons in there.” With a click and a flip, the crown turned into the fanciest knife Asha had ever seen. She took it gingerly from her friend, running her fingers down the blade. It was smooth and cold as ice.

“You have truly outdone yourself, Nuan,” Asha said, handing it back. Nuan changed it back into a crown and put it on Asha’s head. Asha pulled her into a hug. “Thank you.”

“Only the best for my best friend,” Nuan said. Asha smiled. Truly Nuan was the best friend anyone could ask for.

The days went by quicker than Asha had hoped. Before long, she was getting dressed for the trip to Under the Mountain. It was just a simple silver dress; the real magic was being saved for when they actually got to the meeting place. They had a room, or rather a carved out hole, awaiting them there.

Asha threw her head back against the carriage, her braid smushing slightly but holding strong. Sleep was the only way to get through this boredom. The carriage was shaking too much to read or write anything, so she had no other options. Even sleep would be fitful but at least she could still dream.

When she woke up, she could feel the air getting denser, the ground growing more powerful, and her own magic leaving her body. The Middle was an eerie place. It was once home to the foulest creatures of Prythian and may indeed still be. It is an old and strong place that didn’t conform to the typical Fae rules. It was why Under the Mountain was chosen as a neutral meeting location; no one had the upper hand here.

Asha considered her options for marriage. There was Helion, son of the Day Court high lord, though she highly doubted he intended on getting married. Could she convince him? Doubtful. He probably wouldn’t make a good partner anyway.

There were the Spring Court brothers, as well as Kallias and Casper from Winter, as well as the legendary Morrigan from Night. Rhysand and Eris Vanserra were absolute no-nos; she had heard terrible things about their families. Even the Spring Court brothers were questionable for that reason. Morrigan was the only woman on that list, and being from Night she was also an asterisk. Asha knew Kallias in passing and had the distinct feeling he was in love with someone, which left Casper as her best option for marriage. Well…

The light was swallowed by the underground, and Asha knew they had arrived. Slipping out of the carriage, she allowed Thesan and Abhijit to escort her towards their room, each of them holding one of her silk gloves. Every step they took echoed. It was terrible every time they came here.

When they reached their room, Asha flung off her gloves and flopped onto the bed, sighing. Her skin was sticky with cold sweat as it always was after moving through the middle. She wished for a nice warm shower and some proper sleep. But when did a girl ever get what she wanted?

“Into the bath, go go,” her maids instructed, gently pushing her into the shiny white tub at the end of the room. The water was so cold that Asha hissed. She wished she had fire magic to heat this stupid shit up.

After what felt like hours of being scraped and scrubbed and beautified, she was finally ready for the ceremony. Her dress was magnificent, a saree of various shades of blue, from electric blue to robin blue to turquoise, embroidered with golden peacocks. A gold and sapphire chain hung around her neck while earrings resembling chandeliers adorned her ears. Kohl rimmed her eyes and her lips were painted garnet. Topped with Nuan’s crown, Asha looked like an empress.

She just wished it wasn’t so fucking hard to walk.

But as she walked towards the large hall, Thesan and his lover by her side, she felt like she could win over anybody.

ERIS POV

At 189 years of age, Eris Vanserra was rather tired of being his father’s puppet.

But what was he to do? He was the eldest son, and therefore the one people focused on. Well, him and the baby, naturally.

Eris was constantly being groomed to be the perfect heir, the perfect loyal son, the perfect leader, the perfect Vanserra, and the sword to stand side by side the crown. And part of that image involved choosing a bride, apparently. It had been an obsession of Beron’s practically since the moment he was born.

He was 9 when he first got engaged, to the great warrior Morrigan. She was 17 at the time, he believed. The prospect of being wed to someone twice his age while he was barely old enough to hold a sword was…frightening to say the least. An adult wedding a child, it would’ve been. Eris had felt untold relief when Morrigan had slept her way out of the marriage.

The sheer terror he had felt when she had arrived at his doorstep nails all over her body…well, it was the most gruesome sight he had ever seen. Eris is certain he lost his childhood right then and there.

He had panicked. Bringing Mor across the border to be treated meant she would be forced to marry him, but if left there, she would probably die. But death was preferable to the life she would have with him. Even his nine year old self knew that, though he didn’t understand that what his father was doing was wrong.

Unfortunately, Beron’s wedding craze didn’t let up. Just a decade later, when he reached young adulthood, he was engaged to Lady Polonia Dumont, who was actually his second cousin. Horrified at the prospect of having to marry his own relative, Eris tried to reason with her to stop the wedding and wound up accidentally killing her instead. How the fuck does that happen, you may ask? Eris was the young volatile son of a High Lord; he hadn’t known his own strength, and he had yet to gain the mastery and control over his magic like he did now. It happens more often than you may initially believe.

Fifty years after that, Eris had been secretly engaged to a man of his own choice. Naturally, since Beron did not approve of his choice of spouse, he had him put down. After that, Eris didn’t bother with serious relationships. However, it only took another thirty years for Beron to start nagging him once more. It didn’t take long before he was set up with Marisol Spell-Cleaver, sister of the High Lord of the Day Court, which would’ve been fine if she wasn’t centuries older than him. The idea of marrying someone older than his mother terrified him.

So Eris talked to Marisol, and they both agreed not to get married. Somehow, Marisol was able to talk Beron down. Eris wished she’d revealed her magic tricks to him.

And now he was here. Beron had threatened to do to him what Keir had done to his daughter Mor if he wasn’t engaged and married within the fortnight. Part of Eris thought it was hopeless. He seemed cursed to never marry. Four failed engagements seemed like a sign.

But unless he figured out a genius plan to assassinate his father, he had no choice. And this meeting seemed like the best chance for Eris to pick somebody who:

1. Wasn’t older than his mother

2. Wasn’t related to him

3. Wasn’t so unworthy as to be murdered by his father

It seemed easy enough, but for Eris, these were great obstacles to overcome. Beron seemed determined to cling to his side as he murmured in his ear information about each of the eligible people.

“Lady Bethesda Rose of Spring is a great catch, though she may be a little too low on the hierarchy for you. Lady Paulina Fernandez Borbón III of Vallahan would give Autumn advantages in foreign affairs. Lady Aishwarya Kumar, who requested the name Abhiraaj be added to her name to represent the men who raised her…” Beron wrinkled his nose. “She may have been raised a princess, but she is mixed low-born scum. Though relations with Dawn would be useful.”

Pointless information. Eris already knew all this, having looked into it himself. Beron just liked to insert his opinion, to make Eris do what he wants.

This was what marriage was to royals: a political alliance. Eris had finally accepted that love would play no role in his marriage. That didn’t mean he had to completely abide by his father’s wishes.

Slipping away from his father, the Autumn court heir first introduced himself to the Vallahan lady.

The female offered her hand, which Eris raised to his lips. “Lady Paulina,” he said, bowing. Paulina smiled. She was pretty as all the Fae were, with her sparkling green eyes and chocolate brown curls; however, when she curved her lips, it revealed teeth as sharp as fangs.

“Lord Eris,” she answered airily. She looked him over. “You look good enough to eat.”

Yeah…no. Eris wasn’t in the mood to get eaten by his wife. He backed away slightly, maintaining a polite smile on his face. “Thank you, my lady. I shall meet you again soon.”

In other words: never. Beron can’t have known that Paulina was a vampire, or surely even he would disapprove. Eris’s introduction to the Spring Court lady went well, although he suspected Beron would not wish him to marry someone so low born, despite her still being nobility. Shame, though; she seemed decent enough, which was hard to find amongst nobles.

He was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice when he bumped into a tall woman. He found Morrigan staring at him. Eris tried for a polite smile, trying to ignore the queasiness in his stomach. “Hello, Morrigan.”

Her expression melted into a withering glare. “Eris,” she said coldly. Eris swallowed. Was she angry because of the border thing? That really wasn’t fair considering how young he’d been, but he decided to apologize anyway. Best not to make enemies. “I’m sorry for what I did,” Eris began smoothly. “I was a child then, and I made the best possible decision I could. I never intended for you to die.”

Morrigan’s expression fractured, and she shook her head. “I’m being unfair,” she admitted. “The truth is, I can’t think of that moment without seeing your face before me. I know it’s not your fault, but…”

Eris nodded, relief flooding his body. “I know. I blame you for my loss of childhood too even though it’s technically not your fault.”

Morrigan tilted her head. “Why?”

Eris shuddered. “You were the most gruesome thing I have ever seen.”

Morrigan’s lips pursed. “Thing?” she snapped. Oh hell no. Eris did not want to be here. He was a 9 year old kid again, and Mor was the far older woman he was forced to deal with.

“Lady Morrigan!” a voice exclaimed. Eris turned towards his savior. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had thick brows arching over big dark eyes. Her skin shone bronze over a lovely blue saree. Small wavy strands of hair framed her face perfectly. She sunk into a deep curtsy upon seeing both of them. “And Lord Eris! It is a pleasure to meet you both.”

Eris smirked, lifting her hand to his lips. “The pleasure is all mine, Lady Aishwarya,” he murmured, and Aishwarya laughed lightly, looking down. “Just Lady Asha is fine, if you will.” She offered an arm to link with his own. He took it. “Pardon me, Lady Morrigan, but I think there is someone Lord Eris ought to meet.” Then she forcefully dragged him out of the conversation.

Once they were a safe distance from Morrigan, Asha let go of him and curtseyed. “Have a good day, my lord.” Eris inclined his head. “Thank you for saving me, lady.”

Asha merely shrugged, the slightest of smiles forming on her face. “I could feel your discomfort from across the room.”

Eris snorted, then watched as Asha walked away. He felt inexplicably drawn to her as she walked away, but Eris tamped down on the feeling as the introductory speeches began.

Eris’s baby brother Lucien crawled into his lap, and Eris absentmindedly cradled him as he began to fall asleep. “I wish I could fall asleep too, sunling,” Eris muttered. Unfortunately, paying attention was his only option if he wanted to appear like the respectable prince of Autumn.

Eris mussed up Lucien’s bright red hair as he slept. Of all his brothers, Lucien was by far the cutest baby. He was also the smartest; he was 10 and could already talk circles around many Autumn Court adults, which considering how weird Autumn folk could be, was a significant feat.

After the boring speeches were over, it was time for dinner. The long silver tables were dreadful. Eris sat as far away from his family as possible, securing Lucien a seat by one side of him.

“Don’t take the Som Tam,” Eris ordered Lucien. “It’s too spicy.”

“I like spicy!” Lucien declared, his face splitting into a toothy grin. Eris sighed. “This is too much spicy even for you, Lulu,” he said. “Take the fried rice instead.”

Lucien pouted but obeyed. Eris himself only took a little bit; he didn’t much like spicy food. There was loud chatter around him, but there was silence beside him. Finally, peace from his stupid family. He felt guilty for including his mother in that, but a part of him did feel resentful, feeling as if she was a little too complacent in what his father had done to him. He knew Beron likely hurt her too, which was why he felt guilt too. He was also a little jealous because she seemed to prefer Lucien to him; she wasn’t even that affectionate when Eris was a baby. Overall, Eris felt as though he needed his space from all of them. Except for little Lucien. He seemed to be everyone’s favorite.

“Can I have your sweet?” Lucien asked, turning pleading chocolate brown eyes at him. He was the cutest kid ever. Eris handed him his jamun. “Here.” Lucien squealed and took the dessert, stuffing it in his mouth before reaching over to hug Eris. “I love you,” he mumbled, his mouth muffled by food and Eris’s shirt. Eris tried not to get too emotional, but those words hit him in the chest every time anyone said them to him. “I love you too, sunling,” he answered.

By the time he finished dinner, Eris had made his decision. It may be one that he came to regret later, but whatever; if he was going to get married, it would be on his terms.

He pushed through the crowd, seeking the one person he wished to talk to. Lucien was riding on his shoulders, ensuring that Eris didn’t lose him. At last, Eris found her in the corner, talking to a few other ladies. He slowly approached her and bowed.

“Lady Asha,” Eris began. “I know this is sudden, but…”

[ramayantika]

प्रतीक्षा

The whole village has gone to sleep. Not a sound can be heard. The cool night breeze is blowing just lightly, without letting a leaf rustle in the forest. The village guards too are dozing as the wind lulls their eyes to sleep.

But, there is one boy in the village whose sleep has been robbed off. The young youthful milk maidens of Vraja often talk about this boy amongst themselves and with their dear companions as the boy who robs their sleep and peace with his lovely face and smile.

'He comes in my dreams and steals sweet butter from my pot. When I reprimand him, he smiles sweetly and kisses my cheek. But, when my eyes open at dawn, I find my mother sprinkling water over my face.'

'Isn't he such a charming lad? I don't think there would be any other handsome boy apart from him in all the three worlds.'

The boy in this conversation is none other than the darling child of Yashoda, wife of Nanda Maharaj, who was also the chief of the cowherd community. He was the most beautiful child in Vraja and in adolescence, handsomeness was naturally bestowed upon him.

Skin as dark as the magnificent monsoon clouds, curly hair as soft as silk which sported a band or sometimes a crown of peacock feathers. His limbs were annointed with fragrant sandalwood paste which made his presence distinct from the other boys of Vrindavan. His eyes shaped like beautiful lotus petals, and when he would bat his eyelashes at any maiden passing by his path, she was bound to lose her heart to him. He would often wear yellow clothes and strut the streets of Vrindavan with his friends while causing mischief that annoyed the womenfolk on the outside, but on the inside, they were delighted each time he and his friends would engage in pranks, for then they would have a glimpse of his divine form.

What's his name?

He goes by many names. For Yashoda, he is Kanha. The cowherds call him Gopal, the protector of the cows. The elder males sometimes call him Nandlal, the son of Nanda. Young girls who fawn over him call him Mohan, the one who enchants and sometimes they refer to him as Madanmohan, for he is attractive than the Love God, Kama also called, Madan. He is Muralidhar for he is always seen with a flute on his lips and is called Krishna by all for his noticeable dark monsoon cloud complexion.

When he plays his flute, all the gopis and cows throng to the forest, enchanted by his melodious tunes. The ladies would make amusing excuses to leave their house on time to meet this charming boy on the riverbank of Yamuna, then why was this boy all alone in a flower bower deep in the forest with eyes gazing longingly at the moon that was soon to disappear amongst the night clouds?

A certain maiden of Vraja bhumi has stolen Krishna's heart. She walks with the grace of a swan and her voice is sweeter than the koyal. Her fair complexion pales the beauty of the moon for she is far dazzling than the Purnima moon. She possesses curly hair just like Krishna and decorates it with flowers and beautiful ornaments. With jingling bangles on her wrists and jewelled ankle bells, she dances with him on some nights in the heart of the forest. Those bangles and anklets themselves play a mellifluous melody in rhythm with Krishna's flute.

Wouldn't such a beauty charm this notorious charmer? What is her name?

She is Radha, the daughter of Vrishbhanu.

"What is taking her so long? She is never this late." Krishna murmurs to himself as his fingers gently caress the back of a baby squirrel that has nestled itself on his thigh. "Look, even you have fallen asleep waiting for your dear Radha."

Time passes by. The chirping crickets have given themselves to sleep, but there is no sign of jingling anklets making way into the forest. No boat is rowing down the river. The forest is empty.

The silver moon has donned a dark golden robe around her it seems. When Krishna had first arrived her, the moon was high up in the sky, illuminating the bower and the entire forest, but now its colour has darkened. In no time will she too go to sleep to make way for dawn.

Sighing, he gently places the baby squirrel down on the ground with his mother. Covering their themselves with leaves and twigs, he mutters, "Looks like, she won't come. I should get back home."

Pulling his uttariya that was hanging from the branches of a tree, he drapes it around his body and rubs his arms. The flower garland in his hand withered a long time ago. A dejected look on his face makes him appear as if all the stars in the night sky have lost their light. Walking down the forest path, he approaches the familiar turning that leads the way to the village when he hears the sound of anklet bells.

His heart soars and he walks faster towards the source, knowing it would be his dear Radha only. For a moment, he wonders why do her anklets sound different. 'Maybe, she is wearing a different pair today.'

He sees a figure draped in a black shawl -- its face covered to avoid any recognition. As the figure approaches closer, he smells the scent of jasmine flowers and roses in the air, as a bright smile adorns on his lips.

He jumps in delight and runs towards her direction. Whatever tiredness that had approached him earlier had disappeared in a jiffy. I do wonder how the arrival of a loved one after a long time feels for the one in waiting. A little jitters and excitement makes house in the heart.

Fair hands gently part away from the shawl, and Krishna wastes no moment in clasping them. "Radhey, I thought you would never come tonight. Even though it's quite late now, but I am glad you did come here. Let's not venture inside the forest now. It would be better we walk on the river bank and talk, and then we both will leave for our homes." He shows her the withered garland. "Oh, and I made you this, but it isn't fresh and vibrant anymore, nor does it," he smells the garland, "emit its fragrance like it did initially. But don't worry, I will make a new one tomorrow when you come to meet me."

The fair hands in Krishna's grasp still and our charming cowherd wonders why Radhika hasn't spoken a single word until now. The hands then slowly slide the shawl from their face making Krishna pull back from his position, a shocked and confused expression all over his features.

"Manjari?!"

"The one and only."

"What are you doing here?"

Manjari removes the shawl and places it over her shoulders. Brushing her braid with her fingers, she says, "You aren't the only one who meets your lover in the forest. I am here to meet Anant."

"Then why do you smell like jasmine and roses. Radha uses that scent and Its pretty distinct." Krishna says dejectedly while pouting that it wasn't his beloved Radha.

Manjari couldn't help but laugh at his plight. "Oh, I actually borrowed it from her. I love that scent and I have been looking for it in the market, but it got over. Anant came back from Mathura after a month, so I decided to surprise him with a new fragrance."

"In that case, I better leave you to meet him while I go home and sulk because my lover hasn't come to meet me. You go and enjoy."

Manjari laughs again and pats his shoulder. "She told me that she was supposed to meet you tonight. She leaves her window open. Check her house, she might have dozed off dreaming about you."

He hums and takes her leave while twirling his flute in his fingers. The sounds of those anklet bells soon fade in the distance and our darling Krishna is alone once again.

****** ******** ******** ******** *******

Bonus addition (I am generous)

"You slept???"

"I don't know how. I was getting ready for you and somehow my eyes drooped while braiding flowers in my hair."

"Manjari was right then."

"I am sorry. I kept you- wait what? What on earth was Manjari doing there?"

"We aren't the only ones who go to the forest alone at night, Radhe"

"Oh. Well, yes, she had told me that Anant was coming back which is why she borrowed my perfume vial."

"Also, it's okay. You need your beauty sleep, besides in a way it serves me right. Haven't I troubled you so many times by reaching late?"

"That has helped come with many creative and convincing ideas to make excuses to my mother, Krishna. I think it's a good exercise."

"Well, let's meet in the evening today then? Don't sleep early."

Both of them laugh and Radhika nods. "Not this time."

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*: ･ﾟ☆｡ ･:*:･ ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Tagging the sakhis: @ma-douce-souffrance @swayamev @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @pothosinpots @arachneofthoughts @jessbeinme15 @reallythoughtfulwizard @madhoshiyaan @eugenephosgene @lil-stark @pokemon-master-elita @riiddhhiii

[paperstarwriters]

hey i’m the anon who sent in that long critical ask to the queer characters blog; what discord harassment group is that other guy talking about 😭 sorry to use you as a go between, but multiple people can have the same criticisms of a piece of media. hello?? i haven’t interacted with the arcana fandom since i was in high school, i usually just block and move on if random people put it on my dash. if i sounded like i was upset or heated it’s because the arcana is like bordering on being a trigger for me lmfao but i don’t endorse harassment campaigns

anyway, in regards to the bird thing — it harkens back to the historical antisemitic jew nose/hawk nose imagery used prolifically by the nazis. and julian’s normal nose is already drawn rather large and hooked, and i’ve seen jewish arcana fans say that his design in general makes them uncomfortable, especially since this game is written/developed by goyim. red hair, sleepy eyes, hooked nose; all rather stereotypically caricature-esque features. also portia and the mother character whose name i forget fall into antisemitic design/personality stereotypes as well. uh i wish i could link you some academic articles or readings or something but i’m kind of worried tumblr is going to eat this ask if i keep leaving it idling in another tab LMFAO, if i can i really would like to dig up some actual texts about it, but um i’ve mostly just heard personal anecdotal evidence about the bird depictions being linked to antisemitism which is kind of hard to find and link as a credible source. but imo i don’t think it’s hard to link the whole bird motif thing to the antisemitic jew nose stereotype?

and to address the point of engaging with the fandom — i mean do what you want but i personally don’t really see any merit in the actual game when you strip away all the awful stuff, and to build a fandom around that and continue to promote/bring publicity to the game feels. icky. sort of like HP enjoyers, in that you can denounce the problematic aspects of it all you want, but you’re still banding around the dumpster fire and warming your hands on it, you know? maybe the new content brings more to the table, i left right about when the first three routes were ending, but. last i was there, idk what of the game/plot are left when you ignore all the shit.

anyway um finally i don’t mean any of this as like. attacking or harassing anyone. i don’t usually do things like this, usually i just block and move on, but (in regards to the queer character blog i sent the original ask to) my hackles sort of raised when i saw someone mention wanting to promote the game. people deserve to know what they’re getting into and i don’t want any poc/jewish people/abuse survivors/etc getting blindsided by the content in what markets itself to be a pretty fantasy otome game

Hello! thank you very, very much for the information! As for your questions and comments, the discord harassment group, I can only povide anacdodal points to this as I wasn't a part of the discord group, but I belive what happened was that someone had taken the position that shipping two characters was morally wrong—the ship between Asra and Julian specifically I belive, and they started a whole harassment campaign towards an individual who shipped the two of them together, but through an entirely new au exploring the uncertainty of a relatioinship without explicitly accusing one side or the other (again, anecdotal, I haven't exactly read that yet, so I can't exactly conform currently.) And while their point on the toxicity or racist undertones of the ship was likely well-founded, they went too far, accusing the person who shipped Asra and Julian to multiple other bad actions which were eventually revealed as false.

but yeah, 100% two people can have the same two critiques of a media and one can express those critiques in a more harmful way than the other.

As for the points about continuing to engage with the game I do agree that it can feel discomforting to continue to connect to media that has this many problematic issues, and while yes continuing to engage in bad media or bad pieces of work can be discomforting because of it's origin, there are still people who found a lot of worth and comfort certain aspects of the story. Personally I never engaged as much with Julian or Portia or their respective routes so I cannot say for certain, but in Muriel's route, the story is a little different thatn the initial three, and there are some clear gaps that can be explored more or simple traits that can be engaged with in a better light which can foster discussion rather than present a bad steryotype. Again, this may not be as easily applicable to Julian or Portia since they embody steryotypes and thus may require more adjustments in order to move beyond those steryotypes but it is still something to be considered.

Furthermore, at least part of why continuing to engage with fandoms like Harry potter may be discomfroting is that the problematic creators continuet to get revenue for their creation, Nyx hydra has since disbanded and while Dorian has put little effort into considering or developing awareness of these characters and their problems they at the very least were not the one to create the problematic traits of the characters. It is still a little bit of a questionable group but besides vibes, and the possibility of using ai art I cannot say anything for certian.

My arguements are not encouraging you by any means to re-join or re-engage with the fandom, it's mostly just an explanation as to why I'm still here or why other people may still be here too, but I do agree that people should be aware that there are many problems in the game concerning representation when engaging with it, especially since it presents itself as a seemingly inclusive game. If I were younger at the release of Muriel's ending, or if I played through Asra and Julian's route then, the representation of abuse could have been..... let's just say unhelpful for me. More than anything I don't want someone else who may be in an uncomfortable situation attempt to find solace in escapism only to end up feeling worse than before at the bad represetntation, or at the fandom regurgitating this bad representation rather than trying to dismantle or change it.

Anyways, I'm sorry for dragging you back into this discussion about the Arcana for a while, especially since you mentioned that it's triggering for you. I wish you well in enjoying your other fandoms, or other forms of media.

Thank you again though, for providing me this information on the issue of bird imagery and antisemetism, and thanks for also providing the info about Julian, Portia and Mazlinka and their steyrotypical representation I will take care with writing them if I ever chose to do so.

I do belive you were justified in your concern at promoting the game, but I also thank you for emphasizing that you didn't want to attack or harass anyone who does enjoy this content despite it's many problems and flaws.

[hangon-silvergirl]

Witchy!Chrissy and unaware Eddie. Guess Bewitched vibes au maybe? Lol

I dig that as a prequel to actual Hellcheer Bewitched shenanigans, but I also love the idea of Eddie being in on the secret and the two of them trying to keep her magic under wraps in mundane situations. Also a less-shitty version (non-abusive, instead just thinks Eddie's not good enough for her precious baby) of Laura as a reimagined Eudora, because long-suffering Eddie having to Deal With That is the stuff dreams are made of.

Anyway! Here's some HCs about them meeting/getting together:

Eddie meets her at her engagement party to Jason, where he's playing in the band. He thinks that it's a shame that she's about to be shackled to the world's most self-absorbed side-part. He's not gonna do anything about it though, that's not his place; but he finds her hiding when he goes out to have a smoke. He calms her nerves, makes her laugh; she opens up a bit and he finds a natural-ish segue to insisting that she can do better. Back inside, some opportune freak trip of the wires (or... perhaps a well-placed nose wiggle) sets off the indoor fire sprinklers, and Jason's True Nature is revealed as she starts going off at the staff. Chrissy breaks things off right then and there, and she winks at Eddie as she stalks out of the place. Eddie's giddy about it for like, a month after.

He doesn't actually see her again for six months, and it's by chance then; he walks up to a bus stop and there she is, tucked on a bench as pretty as you please, absorbed in reading A Secret History of Witches. He grins, plops down next to her on the bench with loud a, "Well hello," that startles the hell out of her. She smiles broadly when she recognizes him, though. They talk about the fallout from her calling off the engagement, and etc. He asks her out, and she agrees. While they're sitting there waiting for their buses, they see a mother with a stroller crossing the street, and then a car whips around a corner too fast and with no line of sight, straight at the crosswalk. Eddie's half-way to his feet in a panic, but then in a quick blink the woman and stroller are on the sidewalk on the other side of the street, out of harm's way. "The fuck?" Eddie can't believe his eyes, doesn't know what to believe. (He doesn't miss Chrissy's knowing little relieved smile, though, and he tucks it away to dissect later.)

They date for a year. It's a year full of strange little coinkydinks. Eddie actually thinks he might be going crazy. He knows that it has something to do with Chrissy, but he hasn't figured it out yet. He watched a mug put itself back together. Chrissy can change her clothes in the wink of an eye. She always has whatever food he's craving in her fridge or pantry, or cooking in the oven already. She has terrifying dexterity or some kind of premonitory insight, because she's forever catching things as they fall or before they fall, and she can finish tasks so fast it makes his head spin. Her house is always meticulously clean, but she's never home and doesn't have a housekeeper. She always seems to know what he's thinking, often answering his questions before he asks them, or anticipating things he wants or longs for without having to be told. Don't get him wrong, Eddie is ass over tits for her, is so in love with her that it's probably bordering on problematic, and would bend over backwards to make her happy, but still... there's something about her that he can't put his finger on.

It comes to a head when he proposes to her. Overcome with emotion at his heartfelt proposal, Chrissy's natural magic seeps out of her. There's a gust of wind and a display of fireworks, and everything on the coffee table starts levitating. "Uh," is all that Eddie can articulate in response to this, worried that he's accidentally ingested shrooms or something, still down on one knee on the floor with the ring box up and open. Chrissy tells him that she wants to marry him so much but she has to tell him something first. He assumes, and desperately hopes, that it will be an explanation for all the strange shit he's noticed, including the fact that the all the houseplants in her living room are now flashing like stop lights.

She tells him she's a witch. He breathes a sigh of relief. She seems amazed that he doesn't have more questions; he assures her that he does, but right now he's just settling into the knowledge that he hasn't been slowly going nuts for the last year. She hesitantly asks if he still loves her, if he still wants to marry her, and he honestly replies, "Cunningham, I'd still love and marry you if you told me you were Morgan La Fay, reborn and on the hunt for Arthur to murder the hell out of him. And I'd help."

Thanks for the ask, anon!

Request comes from this post: Send Me an AU & I'll Give You 5+ Headcanons About It.

[cammie-morgan-goode]

Can I make a request if it's okay? Would love to request a short story on how Zach picked their engagement ring!!! Thank you sm 💗

Everyone knows that Zachary Goode is in love with Cameron Morgan. You would have to be blind not to see it. That boy would catch the stars and gift them to her if she asked.

Zach had been searching for months. He had been on the hunt for the perfect ring for Cammie. He found himself wandering in and out of every jewelry store within a 100-mile radius of Roseville.

Zach knew that Cammie was anything but a normal girl. He couldn't just walk into a jewelery store and ask for the first ring he came across. This had to be perfect. It had to be special. Cammie deserved that.

He didn't know when the thought cemented itself into his head. He couldn't imagine himself with anyone else but Cammie. He didn't look at other girls. They didn't interest him. And it had been that way for years.

Neither of them had come right out and said that they were together. It just sort of happened. It was like they both woke up and decided that they couldn't live without the other. And that was more than okay for Zach.

Zach found himself called away on a special assignment, courtesy of his father, Edward Townsend. That fact was still weird to him. The fact that he had a dad for the first time in eighteen years was quite the shock. For both of them.

The assignment was in Copenhagen, Germany. He had to retrieve evidence of a potential bomb threat within the CIA. He had to be undercover for at least two months and he was itching to get back home.

Walking the streets of Copenhagen, he was tailing a suspect. The man was in his early forties and went by the name Dietrich Becker. That wasn't his real name of course but Zach knew that. He had been trailing the man for a week now, learning everything he could for his assignment.

Zach had just rounded the corner onto a side street when a little girl caught his eye. She was tugging on her mother's arm, pointing wildly at a shop. The sign for the shop was shaped like a heart with gold lettering. And he watched as the door rang open.

Something pulled him forward. He wasn't sure what drew him in, It could have been the smell of cinnamon from next door. It could have just been the little girl. Or it could have been the sight of the woman at the jewelry counter. But he found himself walking into the little store.

He told himself he wasn't going to find what he was looking for. He told himself that he would just take a look around. But then he saw it.

Sitting on a blue velvet cushion, sat a dainty ring. The band was platinum silver and on top sat a blue stone. It was in the shape of a water droplet and something about it made Zach pause.

This one. This was the one. He waved the shop keeper down and asked her how much for it but she only waved him away. Zach insisted but the woman just pushed it into his hands. "Take it," she said.

And Zach couldn't help it. He didn't try to argue. So, he took the ring and stared at its place in that little blue box. And he pictured it on Cammie's finger.

This was the one.

And Zach couldn't wait to get back home.

(written by: @cammie-morgan-goode)

[lullabiesofwoe]

[  david castaneda, cis man, he/him. ] ✧･ﾟ is that [ JAIME RIVERA ] who  just stumbled into town? rumour has it that they’re the [ THIRTY ] year  old child of [ HECTOR AND IMELDA ] from [ COCO ]. i’ve also heard that  they’re [ CHARMING ] but [ SECRETIVE ] and have [ 1 ]  sibling. i could almost swear i heard [ EN EL OLVIDO - OMAR APOLLO ]  playing when they appeared.

full name: jaime rivera

nicknames: none

age: thirty

gender: cis man

pronouns: he/him

sexuality: bisexual

parents: hector and imelda rivera from coco

siblings: (open younger sisister - mama coco)

( tw: mention of murder and parental abandonment. )

TO SAY THAT life was complicated for jaime rivera would’ve been a severe understatement. he was born as the first child to hector and imelda rivera, his younger sister socorro entering the world a few years after him. while his father’s presence in his life was on the sporadic side, jaime found himself idolising the man from birth. he inherited his father’s love for music and the desire to pursue a career in music himself one day. even though it felt like sometimes his father was putting music and his aspirations before his own family, jaime never blamed him for doing so. he believed one day that the world would know his father’s name and appreciate the talent he had, especially with the premise of going on tour with the worldwide famous musician ernesto de la cruz.

although all contact between his father and mother came to a stop not long after his father left home. from that point forward, jaime watched as his mother transformed into a completely different person. to provide for her children, she taught herself to make shoes and passed the craft on to them. on top of that, all music was banned from their household due to the belief that she held that her husband merely ran off. little did she know, the thing that prevented him from returning home was death itself. before hector could even get a chance to make his dreams come true, he was sabotaged by ernesto and murdered by the man he saw as his key to success. while jaime didn’t want to believe the fact that his father would so easily abandon his family, he had no other explanation.

while his mother distanced herself from anything remotely related to his father, jaime used music as a tool to remain connected to him. he would secretly play guitar and scribe music late at night, not wanting to anger his mother. it was a secret that only coco knew, often playing for his younger sister and getting her approval on his latest work. although as he grew older, his desire to pursue his own path grew stronger. even more so when his greatest muse came along: valentina de la cruz. they had known one another through their fathers. but considering the complicated relationship that spurred after his father’s disappearance, it felt as if the world was truly working against them.

as hard as he tried to resist her and not become enamoured with her, his efforts were all for naught. the two ended up engaging in a friends-with-benefits type arrangement in secret. but it wasn’t long before feelings crept in and began to complicate things. while jaime was too worried that a confession might ruin things, it was his jealousy of seeing val with other men that truly was their downfall. the two had a fairly messy break-up, jaime never getting the chance to tell val how he truly felt about her. it was his biggest regret in life. especially since not long after their breakup, all three of the de la cruz sisters were murdered by their mother.

completely heartbroken and depressed, jaime didn’t know what to do with his life. he ended up running away from home as an escape. he had zero direction in life without val or music and wasn’t mentally prepared to spend the rest of his life as a shoemaker. so he moved to mexico city where he got a small gig playing guitar in a band. but as the years dragged on, he still never felt satisfied. he was just about to decide to return home to his sister and mother right before the chance to do so was stolen from him.

[articlemedia]

A love Story at Ballymagarvey Village (Fictonial)

Emma stood before the full-length mirror, her fingers trembling slightly as she smoothed down the front of her ivory gown. The soft lace caught the morning light streaming through the window of the bridal suite at Ballymagarvey Village. Outside, birds chirped merrily in the lush gardens, as if nature itself was celebrating this day.

"You look absolutely breathtaking," her mother whispered, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she fastened the last pearl button at the nape of Emma's neck.

Emma's heart fluttered with a mixture of nerves and excitement. In just a few short hours, she would be walking down the aisle to marry James, her best friend and soulmate. Their journey had led them here, to this enchanting 18th-century manor house nestled in the Irish countryside of County Meath.

As her bridesmaids bustled around the room in a flurry of pastel chiffon and laughter, Emma's mind drifted back to the day James had proposed. It had been right here at Ballymagarvey Village, during a weekend getaway to celebrate their third anniversary. They had been strolling through the walled garden, hand in hand, when James suddenly dropped to one knee amidst a sea of blooming roses. The ring he presented sparkled almost as brightly as the tears in his eyes as he asked her to spend the rest of their lives together.

There had been no question where they would hold their wedding. Ballymagarvey Village had captured their hearts from the moment they first visited. The blend of rustic charm and elegant refinement perfectly mirrored their own relationship - grounded yet aspirational, timeless yet filled with youthful energy.

A gentle knock at the door snapped Emma back to the present. Her father peeked his head in, his face a mixture of pride and wistfulness. "It's time, sweetheart," he said softly.

With a deep breath, Emma took her father's arm and stepped into the hallway. The rich scent of polished wood and fresh flowers enveloped her as they made their way downstairs. Through the windows, she caught glimpses of guests being seated in the picturesque courtyard where the ceremony would take place.

As they paused at the entrance to the courtyard, the string quartet began to play. Emma's bridesmaids proceeded down the aisle, a vision in soft blue. And then, all eyes turned to her.

The world seemed to slow as Emma took her first steps towards James. He stood waiting for her beneath an arch twined with roses and ivy, looking dashing in his tailored suit. But it was the expression of pure love and awe on his face that nearly took her breath away.

Their vows were personal and heartfelt, eliciting both laughter and tears from their gathered loved ones. As they sealed their union with a kiss, cheers erupted and rose petals showered down upon them. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of Ballymagarvey Village and the warmth of their family and friends, Emma and James felt truly blessed.

The celebration continued into the converted barn, its soaring beamed ceiling strung with twinkling fairy lights. During the reception, glasses clinked and laughter rang out as guests enjoyed a sumptuous feast of local Irish cuisine. The band struck up a lively tune, and soon the dance floor was filled with revelers of all ages.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow across the grounds, Emma and James slipped away for a quiet moment together. They wandered hand in hand through the walled garden where their journey as an engaged couple had begun. The air was heavy with the scent of roses and the promise of new beginnings.

"I can't believe we're actually married," Emma marveled, leaning her head against James's shoulder.

He squeezed her hand and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Believe it, Mrs. O'Connor. You're stuck with me now."

They shared a laugh, both feeling a sense of contentment and rightness that they had never experienced before. As they stood there in the fading light, the distant sounds of their wedding celebration drifting on the breeze, they knew that they had found their forever home in each other.

The party continued long into the night, with guests dancing and mingling beneath the stars. The historic stone walls of Ballymagarvey Village seemed to glow with warmth and joy, as if absorbing the love and happiness of the day to be preserved for generations to come.

As the celebration wound down in the early hours of the morning, Emma and James bid farewell to their guests and retired to the bridal suite. Exhausted but elated, they collapsed onto the plush bed, still in their wedding finery.

"Thank you for making me the happiest man alive," James murmured, pulling Emma close.

She smiled up at him, her heart full to bursting. "Thank you for choosing me to spend forever with."

As they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, the first light of dawn began to creep across the sky. It was the dawn of a new day, and the beginning of their new life together. And there, in the tranquil beauty of Ballymagarvey Village, Emma and James's love story had written its most beautiful chapter yet.

In the years to come, they would return to Ballymagarvey Village to celebrate anniversaries and milestones. Each visit would bring back the magic of their wedding day, reminding them of the vows they made and the love that continued to grow stronger with each passing year. And perhaps one day, they would watch their own children exchange vows beneath the same rose-covered arch, adding new chapters to the timeless romance of Ballymagarvey Village.

[andrewuttaro]

The Code of Jesus' Most Precious Blood

You would be hard pressed to find someone who calls themselves Christian who does not have some grasp of salvation. The central focus of all Christianity is Jesus Christ and the saving work of the paschal mystery: His suffering, death on the cross, and resurrection on Easter Sunday. That Paschal Mystery has a purpose, namely, all of humanity’s salvation. This is not a salvation just on the grand scale, but personally to every individual human being willing to open their heart to Jesus.

Now in my third month of this review of the monthly Catholic devotions, I find myself engaging with them in the framework of THE WORLD TODAY; or at least how we might look at the world around us with a fresh set of eyes by way of devotion to Jesus Christ in these various ways. At the end of the day I truly believe God calls us out into the complicated world, not into a safe enclave walled off from unbelievers.

July’s devotion is the Precious Blood of Jesus Christ. The Precious Blood of Jesus is invoked as a reflection on the saving power of Jesus’ sacrifice. His mission was our salvation, and he spilled his blood, the blood of God made flesh, for that great divine mission. How much God must love us if he is willing to shed his own, divine blood for us?

There might be a fly in the ointment there. I should say, a philosophical question implied by the spilling of divine blood that both the cynic and devotee may find themselves struggling with: why? If God is all powerful why does he need suffering and sacrifice to rectify the relationship between God and humanity split asunder by humanity’s rebellion?

The short answer is twofold: we humans wouldn’t have it any other way, we wouldn’t believe God was truly interested in healing us of the sins that separate us from him and each other if he did not pour himself out as a sacrifice. Also, God wants to be in a relationship with us, not our genie in a bottle or Santa Claus employing magical acts to change reality without actually relating to us in a visceral way first.

Without getting too deep in the vast problem of evil there, the Precious Blood of Jesus can be thought of us as a devotion to the sanctity of life, a code of rhetorical engagement with one another demanding we recognize God’s love in each other. God goes all out to save us. God does not want us to look flippantly upon human suffering and death as if we have no worth. Moreover, if divine blood which has worth greater than any other is to be spilled for even the most wretched sinner, well then indeed our lives mean a great deal.

We are not dust in the wind, not to God. We are treasures dearly loved. Creations of God’s own image, worthy of sacrifice like all worthwhile relationships demand sacrifice. And here is the kicker: all of us, even the ones we don’t like for various social reasons, have this divine human dignity, this innate worth. The code explicit in Jesus’ Precious blood is that no blood ought to be spilled by his beloved children because that was his job.

There are some significant ramifications to unpack there.

Jesus spilled his blood at the hands of every power of his time, political and religious. He was delivered to the Roman authorities by a rancorous, divided Sanhedrin. Rome authorized the execution that implicated all humanity’s sin. Jesus’ band of followers deserted him except for two who escorted his mother along the way of his torturous final hours. Power trampled the all-powerful God who humbled himself to powerlessness for our sake, for the sake of reminding us of our dignity, for the sake of saving us from ourselves.

Power, the root of humanity’s first rebellion, the driving principle beneath every sin, crucified Jesus. In a way, Jesus rescues us by submitting himself to the wrath of Original Sin itself. Naked love of power is counter to what Jesus was all about, counter to the salvific will explicit in Jesus’ precious blood. Only the precious blood of Jesus saves, nothing resembling the pursuit of power. Power for power’s sake is against the code. What am I getting at here?

Before I can answer that I have to tell a story. To discuss the precious blood of Jesus and what it means in the context of our time and place in history we have to know the devotion has always been political to some degree. Forgive me, I won’t be discussing the Divine Mercy Chaplet in this article though I recommend you check that out if you are looking for a good prayer application for all this.

The Pope on the run

In 1848, political revolution was sweeping across Europe. The revolutionary fervor saw the French monarchy deposed again, Poland, Austria and Hungary achieved constitutional reforms, upheaval in the German states which led to some menial reforms, and a distinct anti-monarchical fervor in countries yet to be unified into what we would recognize today. In Italy this meant the First Italian War of Independence.

In February the Minister of Justice for the Papal States, Pelligrino Rossi, was assassinated and a triumvirate of three revolutionaries installed themselves as the new government of Central Italy, the Roman Republic or for clarity’s sake: the Roman Commune. Pope Pius IX fled Rome as a result (to my Italian ancestors’ hometown, Gaeta, in what was then the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies) and spent a little more than four months in exile. While there the Superior General of an Order of Priests called the Fathers of the Most Precious Blood implored the Pope to make his congregation’s devotion to Christ’s blood a universal devotion of the whole Church if he was restored to the Eternal City.

When a French siege succeeded in dislodging the Roman Commune and he returned to Rome in July, Pius IX did just as his exile companion had asked and made the Most Precious Blood of Jesus a Feast Day which would later evolve into the July devotion I am writing this article about. Notice the condition there for Pius IX was returning to power in the Papal States.

This is not meant to be Catholic triumphalism. I’m not saying everything the revolutionaries did was wrong, most of their reforms were rather mild by modern standards actually. They wrote the first constitution in the world to make Capital Punishment illegal and legislated universal freedom of religion a full century before the Catholic Church itself would affirm that right. These revolutionaries were generally trying to modernize a political status quo in Europe that had refused to change after the tumult of the Napoleonic Wars.

Nonetheless Pope Pius IX balked at their modernization efforts, particularly after his exile. While his election had encouraged many revolutionaries, the exile would make the Pope their enemy for the remainder of his long reign. The winds of political progress were not moving the Vatican as long as Pius IX was in charge and I think honest historians, even those on the payroll of the Vatican, would tell you that was not for the better.

Pope Pius IX had a nickname in Italian that evolved after the exile that we might find rather humorous nowadays: Pio No No, literally Pope No-No. Politically speaking he was an unmoving rock in the worse way. Religiously he vilified this amorphous concept of modernism that became shorthand for any modern thing he could spin as an enemy of the faith. To this day the least self-aware traditionalists among us Catholics still accuse each other of whatever they determine is modernism this week.

I think it is fair to consider Pope Pius IX the stereotypical grouchy, backward-looking Pope you might call to mind when imagining the papacy, at least the most contemporary example. That says something when you discover his predecessor, Pope Gregory XVI supposedly thought trains and gas streetlamps were sinful (though that was probably a mean-spirited piece of speculation).

I am not dragging Popes for giggles here. If we choose to think of Pope No-No as a guy acting sincerely in good faith then this becomes more than just a religious cudgel against modernizing political forces. We might even see the relevance of the Most Precious Blood of Jesus devotion for a Pope on the run.

Though Pius IX largely stood against reform for the remaining thirty years of his papacy you can see the most subtle, quietest spiritual surrender in universalizing this devotion. Jesus affirmed our dignity with his blood and that is a powerful code against the often-violent tendencies of reformers in the nineteenth century. Two of Pius IX’s recent successors had been led to their fate by conquering revolutionaries. One of them was nicknamed “the Last Pope” because the ancient Catholic power center seemed to be getting subverted by rising tides of change.

If Pius IX had a Christian bone in his body he must have empathized with those on the receiving end of the tide of change in those days. The message was to choose precious human life over the pursuit of evermore political power: allow the human dignity Jesus affirmed from the cross inform your demands for a better world. Pius IX knew the heart of the revolutionary fervor had good intentions; he had been the cause of some excitement at his election for these same revolutionaries after all.  

You could also see how the devotion could have been leveraged as a panacea against all reform. No matter how you slice it, this devotion was political from the day it reached the horizon of the whole Church. But that’s okay because the politics of the thing is the point. With religion and politics, the most transformative stuff is often found in the tense dance of countervailing truths. Lust for power never made religion or politics better.

Good politics affirms human dignity and even engages the prophetic voice of religious faith a la Martin Luther King Jr when Jesus’ Gospel message lifts up the poor and outcast. Good religion makes politics more inclusive, and peace oriented when the religious people in that equation are not seduced by the desire for power. Religion and politics harmonize beautifully without trampling anyone if you’re doing them right.

Yeah, I don’t see much of that in today’s America either.

The United States of America in an election year

My brother, his fiancé, my wife, and I are going on a little weekend trip to Washington DC later this month. I haven’t been since my 8th grade year and my brother is a teacher. All involved thought it would be a fun adventure while we are all relatively available in the summer. We’re nerds and Washington DC is a city of nerds when you strip back all the clout chasing within the Greek revival architecture.

You can’t plan a trip to DC without thinking of the calendar. We avoided holidays and checked what conventions might be in town. It is not lost on us that this trip happens in an election year at one of the most contentious political moments in decades for the nation.

Setting aside discussion of the election itself, the temperature in Washington these days is hot year-round. In a political system dominated by two major parties in a winner-take-all electoral setup for an extremely powerful executive, there was historically a sense of needing to balance the scales by those who make a living in the nation’s capital. That is, there was always an inclination to turn down the political heat when the highs were starting to overcook the pie and damage the sacred good everyone was there for (at least theoretically): the republic which preserved the peace and rights of all.

In this country we were generally able to avoid large scale political violence because we understood there was a need to talk to each other in good faith, that is without employing bombastic lies and or talking past each other. We always understood that even if we disagreed we had to talk to each other constructively and accomplish mutually beneficial compromises to keep this awesome thing we built together.

To the degree that we are in the midst of an election that will decide on the future of American democracy itself it is all wrapped up in that. What is more important to us: our political teams as if politics is just another club sport with associated fanfare or the republic which has at its core a dignifying mission even if we didn’t always live up to it? I hope enough of us still believe there is something fundamentally good at the core of our nation without it becoming too much an article of faith.

To be clear here I do think there is a right and wrong here: a correct candidate to vote for and a correct baseline political vision for a country that has always been strong for its diversity, both religious and otherwise. Alas, this is not a political manifesto. I am not sure that would be helpful. There is however a manifesto to discuss here

Once again if divine blood was spilled for even the most wretched sinner then we must not push our political opponents into the category of mortal enemy without the dignity God imbues. Yes, even the reprehensible bigot you have in mind opposing your viewpoint is loved dearly by God. I am not asking you to love them, that’s Jesus’ highest calling we all struggle with, but I am asking you dignify them as God dignifies them with his most precious blood. That’s hard nowadays because we don’t understand the old code.

To turn up the heat the way this and the last two presidential elections have in the United States you have to cross a series of lines. If you stick with me here this might read as a recap of the last 8-9 years of American politics if I am diagnosing this right.

The first of these lines is just basic cynicism: all politicians lie and break promises. Sure, that is broadly right but not a productive way to approach politics if you really want good results for yourself or anyone else. Remember: I am not writing about the cynicism masquerading as realism you might be accustomed to. Most Americans long ago accepted the reality of dishonest politicians. The problem is we took it further.

The second line is prioritizing yourself. If you don’t think about anyone else’s plight when participating in this amazing blessing we call voting you’re doing it wrong. Sure, everyone votes in some kind of self-interested way. But if you have no empathy mixed in there anywhere then you’ll be worse for it too. Less holy I might add too. This kind of empathy is treated like the blissful ignorance of children in the politics of 2024 America. It’s a real shame. That kind of cynical power delivered Jesus over to Rome, the power that had the ultimate earthly authority there: execution.

The third line is a lack of basic stoicism. If every defeat on your agenda is a personal injury then you will be more combative each time you face the possibility of failure. The problem with that is that success in any venture generally requires a lot of failure first. Even the pursuit of Christian holiness demands some perseverance. The success of a multi-ethnic, large scale representative democracy? Oh that requires religious levels of perseverance. That gets sapped away when you worship at the altar of your political imperatives, an idol worshipped by exerting power for it. Since 2016 I have watched the idea of “country over party” become a punchline.

Finally the last line crossed into the dissipation of our political peace is dehumanization. This one should be easy to spot but if you have already crossed the last three lines then you might be blind to it when it finally happens. The younger major presidential candidate this cycle has taken to calling immigrants vermin in a line that echoes some of history’s greatest evil doing political leaders. Too many people I know, deeply religious people, are so desensitized to this level of dehumanization that it only turns the heat up more for them instead of prompting a sobering reflection on how we got here.

The precious blood of Jesus gives us that sobering perspective. America needs it this year.

After dehumanization all that remains is for the heated rivals to decide the peaceful processes are no longer useful. That’s when we decide these sacred political teams of ours are our salvation. This is where we profane the most precious blood of Jesus. Nobody talks you down when political violence becomes a live option. No, at that point the salvific work of Jesus’ precious blood is a quaint ornament of your life, not anything with any relevance to your soul now addicted to power.  

Political violence is political failure

Life is beautiful even when it is ugly. Life is beautiful even if we disagree with its worldview. Life is beautiful even when it is not in perfect harmony. Too many people in America today have decided that their extra-political worldview, as in cultural preferences and self-conception, are more important than a political order that keeps the peace and magnifies the dignity of human life (at least in the aspirational sense). Too many people have decided diversity and inclusion is a prequel to their own annihilation. Too many people have decided the outsider is a reprehensible opponent of all that is good.

This is the same backdrop that Jesus found himself arrested in front of.

In Political Science there is this concept called “monopoly on violence”. It is the idea that one of the hallmarks of a government truly having political authority within a territory is that government’s ability to do violence against those who live there. Yes, taxes are a big indicator of government sovereignty as well, but violence often comes first unfortunately. Recognizing a king is simply a form of homage that comes last in the civilization formation checklist, but I get the feeling we’ll be coming back around to that point.

Most political scientists agree monopoly on violence is actually a good thing: we don’t want anyone with a weapon and the will to be allowed to harm others (hold your comments on gun control). If only the government via the enforcement of just laws can commit violence then hopefully that establishes lasting peace and minimizes overall violence (hold your comments on policing). Here in the United States and the greater free world today we also insist those laws must be passed as the will of the people in a representative democracy (hold your conspiracy theories on the 2020 election).

Consider Jesus again: he is the victim of the political authority of his time and place. A political failure precipitated political violence against God incarnate. The crucifixion is about all humanity’s sins, but few were more in the forefront of that moment as it was experienced than the lust for political power. That seems very relevant in the United States of 2024.

We figuratively crucify everyone except ourselves and expect to live in a more perfect union. This predates elections where we always tell ourselves to pick the lesser of two evils. We want political warriors and are surprised when we find ourselves on the precipice of political war.

Political science gives us another concept a bit more uplifting than the monopoly on violence: the social contract. It has long been understood in that field that political organizations are held together by a shared willingness to play by the same rules: the social contract. Think of it as a collection actual rules and more informal social norms that provide boundaries and peaceful space for forming constructive understandings. In a big nation like ours, diverse in every way, those rules, formal and not, have to do some heavy lifting, but as long as we’re all patient with those we won’t break the social contract. What really leads to political violence is the abandonment of the social contract.

Luckily I don’t think our politics have failed to the point of the collapse of the social contract but without a hint of exaggeration I really must admit it feels like that’s where we’re going. I think its safe to say the social contract that saw our nation become the beacon of hope for refugees and immigrants, the model of a modern democracy, and the friend of international cooperation everywhere is something the code of Jesus’ Precious blood endorses. I don’t think Jesus would have to endorse a political party to say that.

Political violence is always a political failure. Jesus’ blood testifies to that and a whole lot more. Contemplate the meaning of that blood the next time you are entranced by a politician pledging to be your retribution or your savior against the forces of oppression. And this is where all of this devotion, the Pope on the run, and this country in an election year intersect: no political end will save us. The Precious Blood of Jesus Christ saves us, and the code implied there is that we do not lend worshipful obedience to anything short of salvation; particularly not, in this difficult political moment in the US, a political agenda.

What we worship

It is the Catholic understanding that the heart of true religion is worship. This is a statement of priority if nothing else. Moral theology, education in the faith, biblical knowledge, those are essentials of our faith as well; but who and how we are worshiping is the most essential part of practicing the faith. That is Jesus Christ and rightly worshiping him is the core of the whole thing.

To our modern minds, particularly with American sensibilities, this can feel degrading. We are independent people! We blaze our own trail! We make our own lives! To prioritize religious worship always forces us to be interdependent, humble, and discerning in our usage of our time and energy. So much of how religion works in the United States of America is explained by this tense dynamic between a national independent spirit and worship. You see, the former often interferes in the latter.

Instead of going on a long tangent about how our preferred religious practices reflect our cultural proclivities more than maybe anything else I will jump straight to the point: we all will worship something in life. We may not call it worship but we will all subconsciously and consciously prioritize what we care about the most in life to the point of raising it up as something sacred. What does that mean in the real world?

Most of the most pious people in my life, at least those relatively close in age to me, are not religious. That is to say they are very adamant about a few core beliefs they have and do not tolerate dissent well. Those beliefs just aren’t of a religious nature. These people, I know too many to count on all my fingers and toes, are worshipping something. To be fair, this is a very human fault and I think we all battle idols in our lives, but this phenomenon is something that crosses all social barriers in this country. Many of us act as if our political team just gets a few more wins than the whole world will be a demonstrably better place. Many of us worship a political ideology or the latent vibes of one.

When considering the devotion to the Precious Blood of Jesus we ought to wash away these lesser foci of our worship. They are not God. They will not save you like the blood of Jesus Christ will. Honestly, I think this clear-eyed, humbling approach to our own belief systems, whether or not you believe in Jesus Christ, might do an awful lot of good at this moment in America.

Don’t forget the code

Sure, Pope Pius IX was a real piece of work and almost certainly had more self-interested motives in mind for universalizing this devotion, but its only got more relevant where politics has become a sacred worship. If you think I am being hyperbolic I would invite you to turn your sight to so many people’s willingness to endorse political violence to protect their chosen political/cultural idol clothed in glorious vibes.

Yes, there is a right and a wrong choice in this Presidential election and it just requires a little bit of reason and good faith dialogue to see it. If we can’t talk constructively anymore and plunge headlong into political violence then we have utterly lost both our republic and the right grasp of our religion. We will have lost the code.

The Precious Blood of Jesus Christ demands we think of our opponent’s dignity and realize there is no salvation to be found in beating them in political contests or worse, a political conflict. Worship what saves, everything else is a secondary concern at best or an idol at worst. Just like with this political moment in America: I truly believe we are all capable of better.

And if you find yourself wondering where the boundaries of decency and consensus are with an opponent so abhorrent to your values, I invite you to look to the only crown I recognize: the crown of thorns on Jesus’ head extracting his precious blood. The code of that precious love is self-gift and patience over all lust for power and status. If times are going to get tough these next few months before, during, and after another election, don’t forget the code.

Thanks for reading! My book “How to catch feelings for Jesus” is available online. Admittedly it is not this political throughout, but I definitely hit on the themes of the devotion in other facets. Share this article! I am in the swing of writing on a monthly basis now and would love to hear your input. Did you really read more than 3500 words to not have something to say about it?

[isaacathom]

actually uyeah im bored im gonna run it down. what specific Thing does naielle have with (pretty much) every member of her family that has her fucking wracke with guilt or smth

At a very basic level, a context - naielle comes from an elf napoleonic france, with some specific details that the usual max lifespan is closer to 500, and that the emperor has no heir and is like. 450. i wrote it down somewhere. doesn't matter. So naielle, being exiled from elf france, very early on made the assumption that she could Wait Out the collapse of it. That the emperor would die in, yknow, 50 years, the power vacuum would be contested by every general and cousin and random former nobleman, and the country would be ripped apart, nullifying her exile by technicality. this established,

Saroel - Naielle's grandmother, 495.

Naielle loves her grandmother. She's this wise and cunning lady, who survived the turmoil of Bonaparte's rise to power by making deals and using the family's noble fortune to buy favour. Her husband died in the post-rise period, and Saroel didn't. She bought the life of her and her children when her husband was accused of treason. She's clever.

Naielle has her engagement ring, a gold band designed to snugly fit under a wedding ring, a piece of jewellery older than the empire itself. Naielle used it as a blueprint to craft a pair to it, and matching wedding rings, with which to propose to her girlfriend Xistina.

If Naielle waits out the empire's demise, she'll never see her grandmother again. Never be able to tell her she was right when she told Naielle to be careful about her historical research, or show her the now complete wedding ring. She'll never get to hug her one last time and be enveloped in a stiff embrace that smells of old pines and old times, like the oils of the paintings and brass of the sculptures that make up the universities museums, of the motar that keeps its bricks together.

Laucian - Naielle's father, 333

Naielle is a daddy's girl. She's her father's son, without question or ambiguity. She's got his square chin, his broad nose, his golden eyes, his curly hair (albeit lighter than his - her mother got lucky with that). She's got his passion for history and all that came before, for the nebulous space of was and may have been.

For Naielle's 100th birthday, Laucian gave her a red ribbon. He's not from a noble background, rising from the peasantry with a father in the military and a mother a nursemaid. He has no heirlooms to grant. But the red ribbon, Naielle thinks, is just as meaningful as the engagement ring, because it's a connection to that paternal grandmother, Shana. She was a hard worker, stern with her charges and utterly doting on her own children, sneaking small things from the noble houses she served to give them. She wore her hair in intricate braids, which she taught Laucian and his brother how to do, and she tied them, always, with red ribbon. It was her favourite colour, she'd say.

Shana died when Laucian was only 24. A child, in elf terms. He's worn a red ribbon ever since, 300 years, for longer than Shana was even alive, in her memory. And he hands this down to his daughter, who takes after him so strongly, and in whose smile he can undoubtedly see his mother's.

Naielle adores her father. She fears, down to the bone, that she has disappointed him. That in her exile she has perverted the passion they share for history, turned it into a reminder of the crushing weight of the empire. That she's ruined something.

She still wears the ribbon in honour of a woman she never met. She never learnt her braids.

Oriphira - Naielle's mother, 321

She didn't inherit any particular gift from her mother - Saroel's engagement ring was a joint gift, a blessing for such an item to skip a generation to find itself on Naielle's finger.

They haven't always been close. Oriphira inherited her own mother's preservative streak, an understanding that the family exists at a knife edge between imperial eradication and flourishing, and a single wrong move could damn them. She grew up in that tumultuous era. She would have watched her father die, or march to die, dragged from their home by imperial troops. She would have seen the pathetic graves for him and his brother, her beloved uncle, and known they should not lie there. That a family mauseleum lay open and expecting, and would recieve naught. That they were disgraced. That it was only Saroel's cunning which saved the life of her and her younger sibling.

Oriphira has seen her family's birthright, such that nobility can claim it, ripped from their grasping hands. She's clawed for every inch back. She's fought for the university Saroel used to buy their freedom. She's fought for the healers and medical practicioners to return to her town in the post-revolutionary period, as she watched her own child die of a preventable childhood infection, watched her sibling die of a stomach left to fester and rot without aid. She's seen the gods abandon that town, and she's filled that void.

She's a tough woman, and she is tough to love. Naielle does all the same. She may not have understood it then, the depths of the sacrifices her mother had made for them all, the agony she must have gone through with every child thereafter. The ingrained fear of heights, inherited in most of her children, after another fell from the roof.

But Naielle gets it now. Now that she fights in a war in a different land for its very existence, she finds that common ground. The two fight a war for their continued existence.

And Naielle imperilled it, didn't she? By raising imperial ire, a century after they last turned their baleful gaze Odelia-ward. By reminding that families like theirs, descendant from noble excess, can still be a threat.

She doesn't know what lengths her mother went to in order to keep them all safe after she left. She supposes the military service of her siblings may have shielded the family. But she knows her mother calculated the loss, and weighs that debt on Naielle's soul.

She wishes she could tell her she gets it, or thinks she does. That she understands the responsibility her mother is unjustly laden with. The blood on both their hands.

Aedelie - Naielle's older sister, 201

Naielle and Aedelie have almost a century in age between them, and its a very different dynamic than to any of their other siblings. Aedelie has to carry that torch, borne by Saroel and Oriphira, of being the responsible one. Being measured, and careful, and keeping everyone safe.

And Naielle always felt very safe. Her older sister was gentle and kind, a bulwark against anything that might hurt her. No monster under the bed would dare lay a finger on her when they knew Aedelie was never far, and even when Aedelie enlisted in the army she left her strength with them.

Aedelie's married, you know. She married a human man around 5 years ago, a fellow soldier in her cavalry unit. They have a little elf daughter, cherubic and giggly, just 2 years old with a wide toothy grin. Or so Naielle's been told.

If she waits out the collapse, she might never even meet her brother-in-law, a kind and soft-spoken man with a reflexes of an acrobat and hair like beach sand. She might never meet the man who makes her stern sister smile softly, with eyes that sparkle. A man whose duty, such that it is, is to protect Aedelie's life with his own.

Naielle is terrified for them both. War wages, and the Empire swings the proverbial club high overhead and demands blood, and her sister and brother-in-law must provide. None of them might see the two of them again. Forget the mortality of a human, anyone is mortal in the line of fire. And Naielle happens to know of a weapon, currently travelling by sea towards that firing line, and she fears what will happen when it goes off.

Quenaris - Naielle's older twin brother, 122

What can you say about a twin that isn't obvious? Peas in a pod, identical up until their mid 30s when he shot up like a stalk and left her a few inches shorter. The two know each other better than anyone else, Naielle is certain. She knew his adult name long before he told anyone, and he hers. She is him, and he is her, and they're two halves of a great whole.

Quenaris knew something was wrong, didn't he? That Naielle was lying when she said she had everything under control. That Naielle was hiding something, sparking like a fire in a cave, desperately being smothered. He saw the glitter in her eyes and knew it wasn't emotion that shone through, even if he couldn't identify the source.

She told him everything was fine. She didn't apologise for lying when it became clear it wasn't. That the situation had spiralled out of her control, that her warlock pact - a grave illegality as it stood - had shown her things she shouldn't see, and sent a beacon to the empire to observe.

He knew she lied. And she couldn't apologise, because to stay and do so would have seen her treason identified and laid bare before the Empire's vast apparatus. It would see her killed. She had to flee.

It ate her alive, it truly did. She didn't know how much he knew, how much he held against her.

She was lucky enough to see him, for only a few minutes. To hold him tight, as though by a hug they might be one and whole, and to cry, and tell him she was sorry. That he accepted her hug, and shed tears of his own, is enough for her.

It would still hurt if she never saw him again. Less, maybe, now that she knows he misses her too. Or more, to have given him a glimmer of hope that things might be normal in the future. She's scared of facing his ghost centuries from now.

Mariela - Naielle's younger sister, 110

Where do you even start?

These sisters have never been close. Each claims the other is irresponsible, too easily distracted, too something. There's always something wrong. Naielle isn't patriotic enough, Mariela is too patriotic. Naielle is too wrapped up in her books and shit that happened centuries ago, and Mariela is too concerned with her magic and the things that will happened soon, months and years in the future.

They're similar, and very different.

Naielle had no particular feeling towards her sister when she was forced to flee. To never see her again would hurt, but not as much as with others, a feeling tempered by the knowledge that Mariela would have some snide remark or another on her return. She lied to Mariela, but Mariela wouldn't care, would she? Naielle can't fathom the idea that Mariela cared either way, beyond that Naielle had embarrassed them.

Then Naielle came back, briefly, briefly, just to marry her fiance, and got roped into capturing Mariela.

What's Mariela been doing? Well, she'd taken what remained of Naielle's notes, on old histories and the magic so thusly entwined, and turned it into a weapon. A different weapon entirely, one worse than most others, and which Mariela saw simply as a tool. Naielle was a fool, she said, to focus on the historical implications of her research, and not to use its practical benefits. Look what lies in our grasp - the power to unravel reality!

Naielle was furious. She took Mariela as a prisoner of war.

And then her patron took her as a warlock.

It was not willing - Mariela made no deal, was offered no bargain she could stomach. Her will was superseded, Naielle's consent to the idea assumed, and her body made to channel magic it rejected.

Naielle did this. She did not know it would happen, had not even considered the possibility, wanted none of it. Mariela will probably never believe her.

It doesn't matter what Naielle thinks of Mariela's original ideas, her plans to turn utter destruction into a military tactic. It doesn't matter the differences of their personalities, that the two don't get along. Naielle did this. She forced this on her sister, intentionally or not, and she intends to make it right.

She expects she'll never right her initial mistake, the pact that brought her into exile in the first place. She fears she'll not right this. But it's in her power to do so, and whether Mariela wants her there or not, Naielle will fix it. Naielle would betray almost anyone to fix what she's done, burn most any bridge, because it almost isn't about Mariela anymore. It's a proxy for every mistake she's ever made, every harm she's brought, a way to try and make up for the life she ruined for herself by ever doing this.

If all goes well, Mariela will go home. Naielle can only hope she understands how much that means.

Yivien - Naielle's younger brother, 104

Probably the person for whom Naielle has the least consideration, a fact that would invariably infuriate the poor boy. The two have somewhat less in common than Naielle to Mariela, but do have one key thing - their academic focus. While Naielle is a historian, Yivien is an architect, and spent much of his youth fighting for their father's attention, to little success. Naielle was his daughter, following in his footsteps - Yivien's achievements weren't as important.

If Naielle was honest, and looked critically at herself, she would concede that Yivien is the smarter sibling. His grades are better, his grasp of abstract fundamentals stronger, he's quicker on the draw. It isn't fair, she reckons, that she was given that attention. The boy earned it, or ought have done.

She would struggle to tell him that. She doesn't think its pride - she never said she was the smartest sibling. What she struggles with is the idea that she needs to correct it, when surely, that burden lies with her parents for not acknowledging him better when she was around. Did she hog their attention? She isn't sure.

But as days grow darker, and doom grows nearer, she wonders if she should have said it anyway. Care or not, guilty or otherwise, he deserved their attention, and it was denied him. And she's responsible, in some capacity. Shouldn't she have tried to fix it? To say she was sorry?

The longer it goes, the more she thinks maybe she means it sincerely this time.

Xistina - Naielle's wife, 135

God, what could she say to her that she hasn't said already? Her most dearly beloved, a part of her soul, the keeper of her heart in turmoil. They've known each other nearly a century, and Naielle can only hope for centuries more.

Xistina wasn't in the country when Naielle went into exile. She was on business, sailing the sea, plying wares and doing trade under the gleaming sun. She would not hear news for months, till she landed in a bustling port and spotted no beaming face amidst the crowd, no-one all but ready to leap aboard before a gangplank was ever lowered. Naielle didn't know what she'd heard. She wished, dearly, that Xistina could have heard it from her.

She doesn't know what Xistina knew. She doesn't know if her fiancee saw the stars in her eyes and saw the meaning behind them. She spent years in dread. At least her siblings, her family, heard of the matter directly, that she'd had a feeble chance to defend herself in the hours before she fled. Xistina knew naught, and could learn less, and Naielle could not reach out for fear of potential consequence. Her fiance could not be party to treason. Her distance would keep her safe.

Her fiancee knew more than she thought, had an ear to the ground and the sea, and loved her still. She wore Saroel's ring proudly as a token of their love, and kept it in care over the decades.

Xistina knows it all, now. Naielle travelled across the planes to see her, to know her truly, all secrets bared on both sides. Pirate and Warlock, Traitor and Traitor. Let the empire declare their treason in love if they wish, for she has it.

And it scares her to think she might let it go. That, having come so close, having even successfully married her after decades apart, that they might lose it all. And that it will be Naielle's fault in totality. Her fault for her treason, her fault for leaving for the distant lands, and her fault for not staying when she had the chance. Who better could have ferried a wanter criminal than a rebel corsair? Where else could Naielle find that kind of safety? And yet she left, for she felt a duty to a war that still wages, and she knows there's a chance she will never return. That she will have given her wife - her wife! - false hope of a future together, of merry centuries in a free Sylvian land, or aboard a ship in the glittering sky, where no mortal government dared tread.

She fears she's given her wife a lie, and did not know it when she spoke.

[6fu]

Stories from the War: Winter 1149

By death and expulsion, the leadership of the Guard was not in an ideal position to wage a war. Bronwyn had never had the luxury of an ideal position before, so she was ready to step up as a tactician. The documents smuggled out by a Spear agent were invaluable. She never said so. It wasn’t worth the risk of being cast out like Stjepan, or the loss to morale if she wasn’t cast out for being a possible Spear sympathizer. But she had been following that group long before anyone else knew they existed. And she knew this would be their legacy: only useful by accident.

Governor Bluebell of Ivydale never regretted the deal she struck to feed Dorigift and Gilpledge as they rebuilt. Yes, it was the end of her political career. Nothing could change that. But the way she structured that reserve was the foundation for a later deal, one that fed craftsmice across many settlements and kept the defenders of the territories supplied. She learned to give up a place in the histories for the assurance they would one day be written.

Many brave mice marched west. Many others defended the places where they stood. Kearra the cartographer’s heart fluttered for each of them. She waited for one to sweep her up in their arms on the docks of Port Sumac. Maybe Ephraim still remembered her. Perhaps Marx dreamt of the night they spent together nearly two years before. Adventure was for other mice. Dreaming and pining were Kearra’s.

Everyone says “necessity is the mother of invention” but the uncomfortable truth is that war creates more necessities than anything else. Vidar had become administrator of an Elmoss lab meeting those needs. One new compound was named for him on a whim, and it worked wonderfully well. They say it saved lives. He doesn’t talk about it now in peacetime. Nobody wants to share a name with a weapon like that.

There was so much to fight for, but Tallulah and Levi had no fight left in them. They ran from Mayor Cavre when he began his final slide. They lived through Darkheather and the march across the wilderness. That’s enough for anybody, but even now little Rust wasn’t safe. But they couldn’t take up arms, not with Levi’s paw or Tallulah’s restless nights. No, they would fight a different battle in their new home in Thistledown. They helmed donation drives, scavenging missions, and a campaign for rationing. Historians credit the end of the famine not to the agrarian south, whose fields were trampled by armies, but the engaged and generous north.

Garrow had fixed things all his life, and always found it best to take it one step at a time, even if the land itself was breaking. He made a promise, of sorts, to that Waxwort witch that he intended to keep. When he left his home, a number of neighbors came with. And it turned out he had neighbors in Willowroot, Flintrust, Oakgrove, and Lilygrove too. Before they reached the east, his band had already survived some skirmishes, and collapsed some tunnels. They had started calling him “sergeant” as a joke, but it stuck by the time he reached the fields of Walnutpeck. He never left those fields. Many mice survived the retreat because he refused to take it.

Fulbert, Lord of Tunnel Bone sat waiting for dawn. He was to charge forward and draw out the defenders of Elmwood, exposing them to hidden troops from Tunnel Steel. It was a good plan, but he could not sleep all the same. That is why he saw his sister Isile coming from down a tree, checking a pouch to be sure its contents were safe. He hated confronting Isile. It always felt bad; even worse when he got his way. This argument was shorter than most, and Fulbert was sad to realize that didn’t save his feelings either. She had retrieved a message, hidden up high, from Lily of the Mouse Guard. They had been writing each other about everything except the war. He recognized a few of the names in the mouse’s gossip, and recognized his sister in her dreams. It hurt him most of all to burn the letter, but he would rather have a sister who lived to hate him than one who died because he failed to protect her.

Hannidy, the Facilitator of the Scent Barrier was no longer head of Elmoss’ second family, but the Lieutenant of its Third. Politics. It meant he was in no place to refuse the honor of leading Elmoss’ regiment at the front. Hannidy did always enjoy new medals, at least. He didn’t enjoy the ice. He didn’t enjoy the dirt. He didn’t enjoy the paranoia. He didn’t enjoy the ambush. His new medals adorn a grave, marked with several of his titles.

The war reminded Sylvia of her childhood, an unwelcome fact. Only now it was in slow motion. Not one day, but many. Not one place of tragedy, but many. She had a letter from Zeke saying the curse was dead. There was nothing to fear from the skies. But now, the ground beneath held terror. She left Wildseed as she had left many places before.

The Haven Guild was found unaware. It was too caught up in its mission to fulfill its purpose. Faolan of Wildseed had little affection for the Black Axe legend. Her membership was a career move. This gave her perspective. They had a network of mice, caches of goods, secret passages, all ready to put toward defending Mouse society. Let the search for the true Axe rest, she urged the guild. If he still walks, and this doesn’t bring him out, what good is he anyway? If the line is broken, then let us do the job for him.

Gayle sat in Lockhaven, far from the war. Not far at all on a map, but quite insulated. Yes, she was surrounded by mice waging it, and her cell had also become medical supply storage, but the war was still something “out there” to her. Bloodier gossip. She was quite happy with how things were going. Not exactly the way she would have gone about things, no, but every mouse was in agreement that the weasels must be met with force. Every battle mice spoke of in these halls was a victory to her ears.

The Smoketon Inn was never full until the war came, and Smoketon the innkeeper wasn’t there to attend to foreign soldier’s needs. He was on the front himself with them. Sure they were useful, but defending Pebblebrook was Pebblebrook’s own duty. Not like these mice had cared much what happened here in years passed. And he told them about it. Every free moment he shared another story he knew. Big things, little things, famous things, secret things. By the time the fighting had ended, every mouse remaining knew Pebblebrrok as well as Smoketon himself. One of them took his place in the Inn, in his absence.

Lucius and Jonwyn waited for all this fuss to end. They’d lived through tensions, and skirmishes, even a full war or two. And that’s only the weasel problems! It was the cold that got Lucius in the end, and Jonwyn kept living for them both, in the one decently built house between them.

When the war found Corben he was ready to meet it. It was a kind of comfort, knowing who the enemy was and what was meant to be done, at least compared to the open secrets and polite fictions of Pebblebrook. And a foreman is a leader of mice, or close enough to one, so his plans were always considered, if not acted on. But a foreman is not a warrior. Not a tactician. Those plans didn’t always bring clear victory. But they did bring him home, and on the right night, he’ll tell you about the few that worked.

All the nice helpful mice said Elric should evacuate for his safety. They found a way to hint at it whenever they spoke. But his forepaws were as fine as anyone else’s, and Corn Chip was here to make up for the rear ones. At least when he could keep focus, the silly beetle. Elric learned to fletch arrows by the bucketfull as defenders pinned the weasels to the far bank. One bucket more wouldn’t have made a difference in the end, there were too few archers to fire them.

The fall of Ferndale and the trouble at Walnutpeck; hell, the entire West, led a steady stream of mice to flee Darkheather and her advancing tunnels. Those who stopped in Shaleburrow found refuge with Poppy and Stout. They knew every available room and cot, who could be convinced to take just one more for just a little while, and at a last resort where to squeeze a new, warm burrow. Their son Hops worked with those traveling farther. More grain from their stores went into travelers’ packs than the brewing tanks. They believed their family always had room for a new member, just like Sable taught them.

Isile had been moving messages for weeks. It kept her useful, and it kept a sword out of her paws. Travel also kept her from Fulbert and his foolishness. If he loses a battle, he dies. But he won’t accept that if he wins he dies all the same. Did loyalty protect Lina? Perhaps he should ask Georges? Today’s message was yet more troop movements. Wenyld had finally rooted Olga and her Flintrust militia from their position and they were retreating East to Gilpledge. But Beatriz is heading to Gilpledge. Isile knows if this message goes through she’ll ambush them. At least half of those mice are injured. Fulbert wouldn’t consider this a worthy battle, but Beatriz might. That message never went through, but it did make for fine firestarter as Isile laid camp.

There was more need for a Nurse of the West than ever, and Ostrid only had two paws. She hoped the fading warriors had enough sense left in the end to guide their own souls above. The tunnels were too haunted already

Alton was told to watch the western horizon, which helped him ignore what the rest of The Spear did behind him. That became impossible once war broke out. He was supposed to be happy, right? This was the culmination of somebody’s plan. But when he watched Guardmice marshaling volunteers, they looked like hope for tomorrow, not converts to the cause or dupes to be discarded. And when he watched the battles fought, even the victories didn’t look like anything worth working towards. He’s still keeping his eyes open, and his mouth shut.

Mice may have used Ephraim, but he was always listening. When he lost his axe, Ephraim felt like he lost all the inspiration and power Clove was always talking about. But that was her plan. And as he made his way west he had a new plan. After all he was a wilderness scout, a tracker, and a hunter. His arm could lift the axe, but his paws were suited to other tools. Ephraim drinks free in any tavern still standing in the west, as they sing songs of the mouse who foiled a hundred surprise attacks.

The mice of Ferndale most ready to fight had gone off with the Flintrust militia and had not returned, so those left behind filled the gap. Sarah and Mel took shifts in the watchtowers. They learned to lash barriers, dress wounds, and wield spears. Perfumers and florists are usually considered the least warlike of the trades, but necessity called. When the final weasel attack came, Mel lit Ferndale’s bridges on fire, and Sarah survived to flee into the night.

Walnutpeck was abandoned in the early weeks of the war, but that changed with the coming of Spring. Whispers had gone through the tunnels and camps and settlements between trusted creatures, those who believed in a world without the cycle of war. Lily and Isile live together in the old observatory now, with a corner that is Stencil’s very own, looking after what they’ve built. With the exodus of the former weasels of Darkheather, and the new scent barrier poured well east of the settlement, their community is left to itself, unknown to those carrying the old fears. Weasel, Mouse, and other creatures beside, call all their previous traditions into question, in order to build a new society that works for them all as a unit, a new people. Today is Sable’s annual-ish visit, a privilege in exchange for helping arrange the whole thing, as Flip drops her upon her daughter’s porch. She gives Isile a basket of lemon cakes. Lily isn’t home right now, she is down on the ground in her old cloak, using the legend of Thistle, The Mouse Unstuck from Time to scare away those who would spoil their haven’s secret.

[corkcitylibraries]

Cork in Verse | Ana Spehar Interviews Noah Hamilton

Noah Hamilton was born in May 1987 in Waterford. He grew up in Thomastown, Co. Kilkenny and is a full-time artist.

Noah Hamilton studied Fine Art at the Limerick School of Art & Design. He graduated in 2009 with a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Fine Art. Noah then went on to focus on his drawing skills by undertaking a course at St. John’s College, Cork City studying Drawing (Level 5) and Web Design (Level 5).

When did you start writing? Is there a common theme, style, or structure you find yourself leaning to in your poetry?

I’ve been writing song lyrics since I was a teenager, drew comics since I was nine. Yet when I started really tapping away on the word processer it came from a certain purge, there are just some days where I'm in the mindset to write, a certain free train of thought, although when it comes to poetry, I have a few rules that relate to music theory. I focus on the rhythm of the syllables in each sentence, though every now and again I break my own rules on purpose. Usually with poetry I just type it into my phone. I went through a phase of writing haikus where you get 5 7 5 in the syllable count. It's good to consider the value of each syllable in length, it could have the value of a quaver, crotchet, have a different timing, a lot of music theory worth considering. 

As a visual artist, musician, and a writer, you express yourself in many forms. Where do you seek inspiration?

I hop between mediums just to alternate my time. One day or night I could be drawing, painting, writing, then playing music or a bit of carpentry and so on, any creative project I have a go at. I used to draw compulsively in sketchbooks for years, I still have the ones I kept since I was twelve, lots of drawings of devils and war. It freaked out my art teacher. Once, he rang my mother about it, when she saw them, she said they were quite good, but she asked me to draw something else so then I discovered music. Nirvana was my favourite band, so I drew rockstars in my teens, picked up a guitar to learn as many riffs from tabs off the internet. Art and music were the two big things in my life, why not do both? I remember that I always said to myself if I go blind, I can still play guitar, if I go deaf, I can still draw. Fast-forward to these days when engaging in a creative project, I have different themes to each medium. Innovation is crucial for my work, I always like something new to potter about with. I've learned to be okay with having creative block every now and again. I find comfort in knowing the likes of Francis Bacon went through months without lifting a brush. I like to look at the lives of artists in biographies rather than their work, good to learn from history before pursuing it as a career, though if you enjoy making art for the sheer enjoyment is a great gift in itself.

Do you show your work in progress to anyone?

I do, maybe a bit too much I think, though a painting isn't finished until it's sold. Pieces develop over time, even songs over time where I would add a middle eight here and there with more development on the subject matter.

Would you look on writing as a kind of spiritual practice?

More like an exorcism. I write away my demons, you might say. I like having a go at the Sci-Fi genre, makes it lighter and more aloof. I find it a safer place to be in, a certain detachment from real life with elements of truth involved.

What book would you recommend to our readers?

You know the real page turner for me was The Diary of Adrian Mole: The Wilderness Years by Sue Townsend. I once spent all night just reading that back to back as a teenager. Actually, I haven't read all of the Adrian Mole books, I must follow up on that, though it’s quite a sad thought as Sue Townsend, rest her soul, is no longer with us. Don't tell me how it ends but I’m expecting another cliff-hanger. My main recommendation, now I'm thinking seriously, is a book that I used to play as an audiobook while sleeping. I'll be frank that I don't read as much as I should as I predominantly just binge on audiobooks these days...Ten Books on Architecture by Marcus Vitruvius Pollio. It's very fascinating with instructions on how the Roman Empire was built. It teaches you about their knowledge of building, plumbing, painting, music theory, and geology to name a few of the subjects it covers. It was revived during the Renaissance and it's illustrated by the old masters at that time. I must root out the hard copy myself to see the illustrations.

Paintbrush

A madman with a paintbrush Saying he is an artist Still a madman with a paintbrush Though people are saying he is an artist They don't think he is a madman with a paintbrush They are betting on this madman as an artist as he says himself They know a bit that he is mad A madman with a paintbrush Saying he is an artist Though a paintbrush for a madman is a good idea nonetheless.

Rural I come from rural Ireland A place of cattle and horses Not too far from me Is where they bet on courses. I know a chap who can talk to cattle But not well with women Not that different from me But worse according to other sources In one pub there is gambling A place of many vices No one judges no one Even through their mid-life crisis They may stand, sit and talk shite The barman telling them that they are right His old friend calls him a bollox Just like Jackson Pollock Country life isn't so bad The pints are cheaper with a bit of trad Next day is not so sad Back again since one was a lad This is the frontline for an troubadour No pretense and vanity For those who do will not last long This town is better than any city Men are men here and the women same Hardly ones that aren't so tame Handy with an axe and saw The land will clobber if you break its law. Take heed of it's weather It's harshness and gruff No time for nonsense Faffing or fluff.

[bradshawsbaby]

The Proposal

Pairing: Rooster x Girlfriend!Reader

Author’s Note: This one was requested by @raefoxiegirl​! It will soon be followed by the wedding headcanon requested by @mercury-mae​!

I’m extra proud of this one, so I’d love to know what people think through comments/reblogs!

Warnings: Mostly a lot of fluff, but also some angst that comes with parental illness and loss.

- Rooster had known almost from the very start of your relationship that you were the one. You were the only woman for him, the woman his mom had always told him to hold out and wait for.

- The thought of getting to call you his wife and, hopefully one day, the mother of his children filled Rooster with the most indescribable joy and also the most calming peace. That’s how he knew you were his forever.

- “There won’t be any fear at all when you find the right girl, honey,” his mom had often said. “That’s how you’ll know it’s her.” She’d always grabbed his face with affection and pressed a big kiss to his cheek whenever she said that. “And hearts will break all over the world when my handsome Bradley gets taken off the market.”

- Rooster had enlisted Phoenix’s help before purchasing the ring.  Thankfully, the two of you were close friends so it was easy for her to spend time with you.

- “You’re lucky that we just so happen to be the same ring size,” Phoenix grinned, reporting back to him after she had casually asked to borrow some of your jewelry.

- The ring Rooster ended up picking out was a gorgeous vintage piece, which he knew you would love. It featured a large pear-shaped diamond, encircled by several smaller diamonds which sparkled beautifully in the light. It was perfect, just like you.

- Carole had wanted to give Rooster her engagement ring, as well as her wedding band, but he hadn’t been able to bear the thought of her being parted from them. His whole life long, he had never once seen his mother take those rings off. They’d been a lifelong sign of her love and commitment to his father, even years after his death.

- “Mom, I can’t take them from you,” he’d told her tearfully, holding her hand tightly as she lay in her bed, propped up with pillows and weak from the cancer that had taken her from him. “Dad got them for you. He wanted you to have them. They’re yours,” he said gently, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

- “My sweet baby,” Carole whispered, reaching out to cup his face. It had broken her heart that she wouldn’t get to see the man her son would become, the woman he would marry, the family he would build, the life he would lead.

- A month later, Rooster had buried his mother, the rings that belonged only to her still firmly on her finger. He knew it was the right decision. And as much as he missed his mother, he knew she was happy to be singing and laughing with his dad once again.

- Rooster hoped that you would cherish the ring he had picked out for you just as much as his mom had cherished the rings Goose had chosen for her.

- After he had the ring, Rooster decided he wanted to get your family’s blessing. Your father had abandoned your mother, brother, and you when you were just a kid, so you didn’t have a relationship with him. But Rooster knew how much your mom and brother meant to you. They had moved to Florida, which was perfect since there were a number of naval air bases out there. It gave him a great cover for why he had to travel.

- Rooster had only met your family in person a few times, but they adored him and couldn’t have been happier to give their blessing for his proposal. “She’s going to say yes,” your mom had assured him with a wink and a smile that reminded him so much of you.

- With the ring and the blessing secured, the only thing left for Rooster to do was to plan the actual proposal itself. He racked his brain, trying to come up with something that would be creative and special, but also meaningful and intimate. You deserved nothing but the absolute best in his eyes.

- Ultimately, Rooster decided he wanted to propose at The Hard Deck. It was the place where the two of you had first met and a place that held a lot of special moments and memories for you both.

- To pull it off, Rooster enlisted everybody’s help. Penny agreed to close the bar for the night, claiming maintenance work needed to be done, so that they could have the space to themselves. Maverick, Amelia, Phoenix, and Bob helped decorate the bar with flower petals and candles. Hangman and Coyote went to pick up the champagne you loved from a winery you and Rooster had gone to. Payback and Fanboy set up the speaker system and connected the playlist you had once made for the two of you.

- The night of, Rooster told you that he was taking you out for a fancy dinner, so you had gotten dressed to the nines. You went all out with your hair and make-up, glad that you’d just recently gotten a new manicure. Feeling particularly bold, you even wore the new lingerie set you had recently purchased while on a shopping trip with Phoenix and some of your other girlfriends.

- Rooster’s eyes had nearly bugged out of his head when he saw you. Whistling, he took your hand and twirled you around slowly, admiring the view. “Baby girl, you are a wonder,” he told you, kissing you softly.

- “Don’t mess up my lipstick before we even get out the door,” you teased, nudging him playfully as you grabbed your purse. “What restaurant is it we’re going to again?”

- “Some new one downtown. Hangman said it was good,” Rooster replied casually, shrugging his shoulders. He hoped he didn’t appear as jittery as he felt. He wanted tonight to go perfectly. “Don’t kill me though. We have to make a quick stop at The Hard Deck first.”

- “Everything okay? Penny said she had to close tonight for some maintenance work,” you replied, slipping your hand into his as he led you to his truck and opened the door for you, helping you up.

- “Yeah, she just needs my help with something really quick,” Rooster nodded, hopping into his truck and driving the short distance from your apartment to The Hard Deck. “Come with me, baby. Penny would love to see you, and she’ll pour you a drink while you wait,” he grinned, helping you climb back down out of the truck.

- “It looks kind of dark in there. Is everything okay with the power?” you asked in concern as the two of you approached the entrance to the bar.

- “Oh, yeah, don’t worry about it. I got you,” Rooster winked, squeezing your hand as he led you inside.

- You gasped at what you found. The entire bar and most of the surrounding tables had been covered in yellow rose petals (yellow roses were your favorite) and soft, flickering candles. As soon as you stepped inside, you heard the opening strains of Frank Sinatra’s “The Way You Look Tonight.” It was one of your favorite songs, and the first song you and Rooster had ever slow danced to.

- “Babe, what is—”

- Before you could say anything else, Rooster was stopping you in the middle of the room and dropping down to one knee before you, which made your heart rate accelerate immediately as you covered your shocked face with both hands.

- “Baby,” Rooster began, reaching up to take one of your hands and tug it away from your face. You already felt yourself starting to cry. “I love you so much. So, so much,” he said, squeezing your hand gently as he gazed up at you with adoration brimming in his eyes. “From the moment you came into my life, it’s only gotten better. You are the very best part of me.” 

- You were definitely crying now, tears streaming down your cheeks despite your best attempts to stop them.

- “I–I’ve been so lonely for so long. But with you, I know I’m never alone. You make every day so special, baby. My mom—” You could tell he was getting choked up when he mentioned his mother. “My mom always used to tell me that when I met the right girl, I would know she was the one because I wouldn’t be afraid. I wouldn’t be afraid to commit to her and want to spend the rest of my life with her. That’s how my dad knew my mom was the one. And it’s how I know you’re the one for me. Baby, I don’t want to live a minute in this life without you. Will you marry me?” he asked, opening a black velvet box to reveal the most breathtakingly exquisite ring you had ever seen.

- “Oh, God, baby,” you cried, hoping you hadn’t completely destroyed your make-up, but grateful that the man before you wouldn’t care if you had. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes! A thousand times yes!” you exclaimed, your hand trembling with excitement as Rooster slipped the ring onto your finger. A perfect fit.

- As soon as it was on, Rooster rose and took you into his arms, swinging you around as you kissed him hungrily. “I love you! God, I love you,” you whispered against his lips, while his fingers ran through your hair.

- “I love you, too, baby girl,” Rooster murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding you close.

- At that moment, unable to contain their excitement any longer, everyone came rushing out of their hiding places, cheering and screaming and covering the two of you in confetti.

- After getting repeatedly hugged and kissed, and sharing a champagne toast with all your friends, you and Rooster managed to slip out onto the beach while everyone else kept celebrating inside.

- “I’ve never been happier in my life,” you told him, gazing up at him as he slipped an arm around your waist. “I can’t wait to call you my husband.”

- “And I can’t wait to call you my wife,” Rooster replied, taking your hand in his and holding you close as the two of you began to sway to the music that was softly trickling out of The Hard Deck.

- Rooster knew that his parents were looking down tonight and that they were smiling.

[handsofdarkness]

The story behind the song: Within Temptation’s Angels

Within Temptation’s breakthrough hit Angels was shaped by label trouble, departing members… and a high-profile political assassination

By the time Within Temptation released The Silent Force in 2004, they were shaping up as one of metal’s great new hopes. The Dutch band’s first two albums, 1997’s doomy, gothic-leaning Enter and 2000’s fantastical Mother Earth, had helped put symphonic metal on the map, but it was their third album that really grabbed people’s attention.

The Silent Force was a weightier, darker collection than its predecessors. Landing just a few months after Once, Nightwish’s genre-defining statement, that year saw the two bands stepping forward as the figureheads for a rising scene that was becoming a global commercial force.

The Silent Force’s first two singles, Stand My Ground and Memories, had been big hits across mainland Europe, but when the band saw how fervently the crowd at live shows reacted to Angels, they decided to release it as the album’s third single. Elegantly bridging the ornate gloom of the band’s early sound, the Celtic-infused sparkle of Mother Earth’s burgeoning symphonic drama, and the arena-filling bombast that would follow, the song would play a significant role in Within Temptation’s ascendancy. Today it stands as one of their most enduring anthems.

“Everyone has their own interpretation of the lyrics,” says vocalist Sharon den Adel of Angels. “It holds such a meaning for so many people in many ways. It’s a song that people love.”

The period leading up to The Silent Force was defined by turmoil and change. Following the departure of keyboardist Martijn Westerholt, who’d left in 2001, Within Temptation were getting to grips with a new line-up, which included guitarist Ruud Jolie and Martijn Spierenburg on keyboards. They had also moved labels, leaving the small Dutch independent DSFA Records and signing with German label GUN Records, with the hope that the latter could promote them across Europe on a grander scale.

That upheaval wasn’t confined to the band. The Netherlands itself had been in turmoil since the 2002 assassination of right-wing politician Pim Fortuyn, who’d been shot and killed by a political activist who disagreed with his anti-Muslim views. The incident had stunned the nation at the time, and its aftershocks were still being felt when Within Temptation entered the studio in summer 2004 to record the album.

“There was a lot of commotion in our country at that moment,” recalls Sharon. “We’ve always been very engaged with politics, although you don’t hear it much in our music. We did not agree with [Fortuyn], and we were worried about the future… that shines through on this album.”

The band shut themselves away from the world during the eight-week recording session, holing up in a studio on the industrial outskirts of Rotterdam. Every day they would arrive at 9am and not leave until 11pm. “Everything in the studio was closed; there was only a canteen with a little bit of light coming in,” remembers Sharon. “The fact we were in a very dark studio made us feel very gloomy.”

The album marked the first time the band had worked with producer Daniel Gibson, who has produced each of the band’s albums ever since. “He taught us not to sit inside all day,” laughs Sharon. “He’s like, ‘Guys, we have to go for lunch and see some daylight!’”

The success of Mother Earth meant that the band could do things differently this time around, pushing their symphonic inclinations to the forefront. Within Temptation had flirted with symphonic elements before: they’d used computerised orchestral sounds on both Mother Earth and Enter, and they’d worked with a small choir on the former, too. However, GUN Records were so impressed by the band’s growth that they splashed the cash, and forked out for a real Russian orchestra to play on the new material.

“The palette of colours we had to play with became bigger,” remembers Sharon. “We’ve always loved heavy music, but we also loved the soundtracks of epic movies like Braveheart and Gladiator. It had always been our intention to have this sound within our music – this was the first time we had the budget to do it!”

Of course, making a record in the mid-00s with an orchestra based on the other side of a continent was not without challenges. “We were close to Rotterdam, and they were in Moscow,” Sharon says. “Files were sent online but this was back in the day, and it took ages and the computer would crash. Then we said, ‘We want to change this’, and had to go back with a load of files again.”

Angels encapsulated their growing ambition perfectly. Starting with a fragile falsetto from Sharon, it built into an emotional, symphonic anthem, laced with bittersweet venom: ‘You took my heart, deceived me right from the start / You showed me dreams, I wished they would turn into real / You broke a promise, and made me realise, it was all just a lie.’

Fans have spent years dissecting its lyrics of betrayal, but Sharon reveals the band wrote the track to vent about frustrations with their original label, DSFA Records, that had been bubbling to the surface.

“Although we mostly work with metaphors in our music, there was a lot of things that were influenced by politics and our personal lives on that album,” she explains. “Angels is about heroes never coming with a cape and bad guys never coming with the striped shirt, like they’re supposed to be in prison. You have people that you trust and you finally find out they’re not that trustworthy.”

The band’s success, she says, had been a welcome surprise, but it had left them vulnerable. “We were never meant to be a professional band,” she explains. “The thing about that is then you don’t take contracts so seriously. You say, ‘OK, I’ll sign whatever as long as I can make an album!’ You never expect it to become a success, then things start to change and it’s like, ‘Oh my God, what have I done?’ I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. Even though we had lawyers and stuff involved, they were not specialised in music, so it was our own fault in a way.”

The video for Angels represented a new look for the band. Shot in a traditional Spanish mansion in Malaga, it was a visual step out from the shadows. “It was an excuse to do a warm video!” laughs Sharon. “Every time we made a video before, we were standing in the cold, in the rain! For Stand My Ground, we were on the top of a building in Berlin in the middle of the night. We were like, ‘Angels is going to be in the sunshine!’”

The video was also Sharon’s first time on a motorcycle, zipping down dusty roads clinging onto drummer Stephen van Haestregt for dear life. “He was always on motorbikes,” says Sharon. “He was used to it and was like, ‘I’m always in the back of the video clips and now I’m in front. I get to be a cool guy!’”

However, the darkness that had hung over the sessions for The Silent Force carried over into the concept for the video. Together with director Oliver Sommer, the band wrote the treatment for the shoot, which featured Sharon as a fallen angel, kidnapped by a demonic priest-cum-serial killer, played by an actor who had appeared as an extra in Sergio Leone’s Spaghetti Western classic, The Good, The Bad And The Ugly. With spirits rising from the grave and Sharon finally destroying her nemesis while sporting a pair of white angel wings, it’s a gothic-western fantasy that perfectly encapsulates the poignant beauty of the song.

Released in November 2004, The Silent Force immediately pushed Within Temptation to new heights, going gold only one week after its release in the Netherlands, Belgium and Finland. They had played their first UK show, a sold-out gig at London’s Scala, that September, but the real payoff would come a year after the album’s release, as the band headlined Bloodstock Festival for the first time (they would triumphantly return to headline again 10 years later).

“You could feel something was changing through interviews, and we were playing at later times at festivals,” Sharon remembers. Not that there was a handbook for their burgeoning success. “There was no one else to guide us outside of the Netherlands. We had to do things on our own and pioneer a bit. There weren’t many other bands we could ask, ‘How do you do that? What’s your experience?’ For us it was new.”

Still, the band who had begun as a casual hobby had become their homeland’s prime musical export. And The Silent Force, and Angels in particular, served notice of their impending popularity outside of the Netherlands, helping transform them into one of symphonic metal’s biggest success stories.

“With The Silent Force, people really knew who we were,” says Sharon. “We stepped up a level with everything. It was the moment we became who we are today.”

[doltheories]

What I think the future holds for them

Ric: Takes Kylar and Robin and runs. Where did they go? It remains a mystery, but rumor has it that the three can be seen in mirrors at night sometimes, in a group hug, horns on their heads.

Cas: Co-owner of the Alex Estate, left to run things in her own after Alex himself vanished. The rivalry with Remy is still hot, but they’re practically equals now. Sometimes “buys” orphans from the orphanage just to let them stay at the manor for a week while they scrounge together their rent for Bailey. Might be plotting an insurrection against him.

Val: Still Eden’s devoted butler, but given her temper, it’s likely she’ll kill him eventually. As he takes his final breaths, he realizes that the “goddess” he was slaving for was just a pitiful human.

Ame: Mafia leader. No ifs, ands or buts. Probably overthrow a couple of minor villains personally. Uses Alex’s farm to grow opium. Those who oppose her are eaten by her hawk wife. OR, she somehow manages to turn her life around.

Yvonne: Completes the museum’s collection, and celebrated by kidnapping Robin, Kylar and Sydney and taking them to the wolf cave. They’re her happy wolfperson harem in no time.

Carrie: Kylar’s cheerful housewife after he kidnaps her for prostitution. You hear noises in his parents’ room…? Oh, don’t be silly! It’s probably the house settling; it is ancient you know. Would you like another cup of tea?

Forrest: Nothing good, probably.

Era: Continues to serve the temple dutifully, and manages to achieve the rank of mother superior at only 30. Marries Sydney in a beautiful ceremony.

El: Reclaims the land that her family manor used to be on and rebuilds it, assuming a position among the elite once again. She also usurps Briar, making her the owner of the brothel, and she has many plans for it.

Finn: Flees town with Sydney, where they form a metalcore protest band. They eventually manage to expose Bailey, completely shattering the town’s facade in the process. Fuckchestershire will never be the same.

Rita: Finds all of the magical girls and boys in town, and the makeshift army engages in an epic final showdown with Auriga itself. Their lives will be forfeit, but the town will at last be purified.

Taylor: Cult leader. That is all.

[astrognossienne]

couple analysis: john lennon + yoko ono - a unique codependency

“At least I had that, one good guy understood me.” - Yoko Ono

“She don't suffer fools gladly, even if she's married to him.”  - John Lennon

The two connected on multiple levels — spiritual, physical, artistic, political — and fell madly in love. The real-life ballad of John and Yoko didn’t really begin until after the Beatles had been left in the rearview mirror. Yoko Ono and John Lennon dreamed of a perfectly equal relationship, one that they symbolized by both wearing white to their 1969 wedding. They were definitely the strangest power couple of the ‘70s. John was suddenly making art and movies, while Yoko was making music. But this experimental sound was often too much for people to handle, with many fans writing their art off as too experimental for their liking. Their eerie, all-in kind of love made a lot of people uncomfortable. It got to the point where Beatles fans were concerned for his well-being and whole-heartedly believed that she broke up the band. While their consuming relationship received a lot of criticism, the famous love birds didn’t exactly shy away from the spotlight. For those who are still trying to make sense of the Beatles’ final split in 1970, Ono was an easy scapegoat. First off, Ono was older than her husband. Second, she wasn’t white. Also, like her husband, she held impassioned political beliefs and was rather weird. Whereas Lennon’s irreverent wit and zaniness, and his outspoken views on politics and religion, were often found endearing by fans, Ono’s did not find such a hospitable interpretation. With a half-century of perspective — and a safer distance from the breakup of the Beatles — it’s easier to appreciate the love story of John and Yoko, not to mention Yoko’s own incredible journey.

Love life of John Lennon: John Lennon dragged his heels into adulthood while clinging to women all too eager to indulge the petulant child. It started with his mother Julia (background of their relationship is covered at length in the analysis of John Lennon). In July 1958, Julia was hit by a car as she crossed the road outside Mimi’s house and was killed. She was just 44.

“I lost my mother twice,” John said later. “Once, as a five-year-old when I was moved in with my auntie. And again, when she actually, physically died...and that was really a hard time for me. It just absolutely made me very, very bitter, my mother being killed, just when I was re-establishing a relationship with her.”

He raged against the loss. Each morning he drew his curtains to see the exact spot where his mother was killed. Isolated in his anguish, he was in desperate need of someone to cling to. He found her at Liverpool College of Art. Art student Cynthia Powell was a year older, pretty, demure, and sweetly spoken. She wasn’t his type. Nor could he be described as hers. But there was chemistry. Always disorganized, John would help himself to her pencils and pens. He couldn’t resist making fun of her accent, her outfits, her “properness”. Powell once overheard Lennon give a compliment to a girl with blonde hair in the college, who looked similar to the French actress Brigitte Bardot. The next Saturday, Powell turned up at the college with her hair several shades blonder. Lennon noticed immediately. After a college party to celebrate the end of term, Lennon asked Powell if she would like to "go out" with him. She quickly replied that she was engaged to a young man in Hoylake; he yelled at her, "I didn't ask you to fucking marry me, did I?" He later approached her and asked if she would go to the Ye Cracke pub. She was confused when he ignored her all evening, but eventually invited her into the group with a joke. Their courtship began.

They began dating, with Lennon now referring to her as "Cyn". In the autumn of 1958, she ended her engagement to be with him, and he ended his relationship with another art student, Thelma Pickles. His jealousy could also manifest itself in violent behaviour towards her, as when he slapped her across the face (causing her head to hit a wall), after watching her dance with his best friend Stuart Sutcliffe. After the incident, she broke up with Lennon for three months, but resumed their relationship after his profuse apology. In August 1962, she found herself pregnant with his child; later that month, they got married (under secrecy at Beatles manager Brian Epstein’s insistence), and after a long, terrifying labour that she was forced to endure in hospital without John as the Beatles were on tour, Cynthia gave birth to his first son, John Charles Julian, on April 8, 1963. John did not meet his son for three days. Three weeks later, he left the worn-out nursing mother and tiny baby at home to go on vaction with Epstein. In 1964, at the height of Beatlemania, he met Alma Cogan (a fading singer 8 years his senior that he used to savagely mock), and they, surprisingly, not only became close friends, they soon began an affair. Alma and Lennon, both heavily disguised, took to meeting for passionate interludes in anonymous West End hotel suites, where they sometimes registered as 'Mr and Mrs Winston' (Lennon's middle name). When Cogan died from ovarian cancer aged 34 in 1966, the 25-year-old Lennon disintegrated. Crazed with grief, he confessed to Cynthia, she said, that Alma was a reincarnation of his late mother. Throughout the marriage, Lennon slept with other women and would leave drugs "lying around the house." Two weeks after Cogan died, Lennon met Yoko Ono, the woman who was to control and dominate the rest of his life. Things came to a head when he drunkenly told Cynthia about his affair with Ono. John then invited Yoko to the matrimonial home, where they had sex in Cynthia’s bed. Instead of doing the decent thing and sitting down with his wife to explain that the marriage was over, he contrived for Cynthia to walk in on them. John filed for divorce and played dirty: Cynthia was accused of adultery and threatened with losing Julian. She was paid off with a pittance.

Love life of Yoko Ono: After surviving the bombing of Tokyo and the great fire raid of 1945, Yoko's family endured some desperate times when the former upper-crust clan feared for their lives and had to beg for food. The family left Tokyo and moved to Scarsdale, New York, where Yoko enrolled as a student at Sarah Lawrence College in Manhattan in 1953. In 1956, Yoko Ono met Toshi Ichiyanagi, a Japanese avant-garde composer and pianist who was one of the leading composers in Japan during the postwar era. They were both young Japanese artists living in New York. Ichiyanagi did not, like Ono, have wealthy parents and thus was not acceptable to Ono’s family, so the couple eloped. They lived like young avant-garde artists, but both retained their affection for classical Japanese culture as well. Ichiyanagi's decision to return to Japan, while Ono remained in New York, rendered the marriage untenable, and they divorced in 1962. Yoko had a nervous breakdown and attempted suicide, and her family committed her to a mental institution. While in the hospital, Yoko would meet another man who would change her life in more ways than one, jazz musician Anthony Cox. Tony had become interested in some of Yoko's avant-garde art pieces. He was so enamored by her work that he tracked her down at the hospital where she was being held and helped get her released. The couple married in 1962, and their daughter Kyoko was born in 1963. Cox claimed he tended to their daughter while Yoko immersed herself in her work. "That was part of something that Yoko felt very strongly about," says Cox, "that if she had kids, the husband should help take care of them. I agreed to it before the marriage," Tony said to People. The couple moved to London in the late 1960s, and shortly after that, Yoko met John Lennon. Within three years, she and Tony divorced. 

Their love life together: John Lennon met Yoko Ono in November 1966 at London’s Indica gallery where she was exhibiting her work. He took a bite out of the apple she’d staged like a Duchamp readymade — at last, she’d found her Eve. Their attraction was instant and their love affair began shortly after that first meeting. Famously, Yoko Ono had no idea who John Lennon was and wasn’t impressed by his fame in the least, even though by this point The Beatles were international superstars. Lennon sponsored one of her art shows and started dropping coded sexual references about Ono into his music. One day, Lennon invited her over while his first wife Cynthia was away on vacation with their son, Julian. John revealed in an interview with Rolling Stone: “It was midnight when we started Two Virgins, it was dawn when we finished, and then we made love at dawn. It was very beautiful.” The heart wants what it wants, and eventually Lennon’s wife Cynthia caught the two of them in bed together. The pair divorced and Ono became pregnant shortly after but lost their first son in a miscarriage. The pair wed in Gibraltar on March 20, 1969 and less than a year later, the Beatles broke up. After connecting with Lennon, it was easy for other artists to dismiss her as a sellout or a gold digger, but really Lennon completed her vision, gave her the populist audience she’d long desired. Ono claims Lennon was obsessed with spending every minute with her, even following her to the bathroom so they wouldn’t be apart for a minute. This new obsession left less time to work with the band and when the other Beatles confronted him about it, Lennon became furious and defensive.

Though her ex-husband Cox had been given custody of his and Ono’s daughter Kyoko, a bitter battle had broken out over Yoko’s visitation rights. The Lennons won custody of Kyoko in the U.S. Virgin Islands, but when they went to take custody of the child, they discovered that Cox had moved to Texas, where he had set up residency and was countersuing them. The battle for Kyoko started all over again, but when Cox saw that Ono and Lennon were on the verge of  winning the case after they agreed to the judge's stipulation that they raise Kyoko in America, he fled with his daughter. Cox felt that the Lennons’ power and money would eventually cost him his daughter. Cox always maintained that his daughter wanted to stay out of the limelight and away from the furor surrounding her mother. Meanwhile, there was trouble in paradise in the Lennons’ marriage and this lead to John’s “lost weekend”. The whole thing came about because Ono and Lennon were fighting all the time. Previously, John had indulged his feverish sex drive whenever he liked. Now he had only Yoko to satisfy his needs – and by her own assessment she was not sexually adventurous. John soon became bored.

In 1973, Lennon reportedly cheated on Ono. The couple attended a party where John was worse for wear. He spied a woman sitting on her own and led her into an adjoining room. Soon, the entire party became uneasily aware of what John and the woman were doing. Yoko, paralyzed, clay-faced with passive indignity, just stood there. Although she protested indifference, the humiliating experience proved a turning point, sowing seeds of doubt that would provoke her next move. Despite (or because of) this, he became overly possessive of her, and his possessive ways were starting to grate on his wife. That’s why Yoko orchestrated the affair with her assistant May Pang for Lennon – to get him away from her and keep him happy. May put up with his endless phone conversations with Yoko, whom he needed more than ever, and with his interminable pleadings with her to be allowed home. May encouraged Lennon to restore his relationship with Julian, whom he had not seen for three years, and who was by now 11. May cooed over Julian, befriended Cynthia, and convinced herself that John was The One. She said John returned to her again and again, long after he and Yoko were reunited. To many who witnessed it, she was no more than a personal assistant with benefits. But then Lennon and Ono reconnected so quickly and dramatically that Pang thought maybe Lennon was brainwashed. One year later, Ono gave birth to the couple’s son, Sean.

Following their reconciliation, John Lennon and Yoko Ono enjoyed seven more happy years of marriage. On December 8, 1980, the Lennons spent several hours at the Record Plant before returning to the Dakota at approximately 10:50 p.m.; Mark David Chapman, a deranged fan, accosted them and shot Lennon five times, killing him instantly. From his late teens John Lennon had been driven to destroy virtually everything that came good for him, from romantic relationships to professional success. What the world regards as a pointless tragedy John, for all we know, may have considered to be a fitting end. As far as Yoko goes, she went from absolutely being John's soulmate and true love to her seeming quite happy soon after his murder and shacking up with younger boyfriend and interior designer Sam Havadtoy at The Dakota. Nonetheless, Ono is responsible for constructing Strawberry Fields in Central Park, New York as a way to honour her late husband and also founded the John Lennon Museum. In 1986, Ono wrote an open letter to her daughter, in which she stated that she loved her and thought of her every day. In 1997, the 31-year-old Kyoko, married, herself a mother, made contact with Ono. The two reunited. Kyoko met her brother Sean and introduced her mother to her two children and her husband.

Next, I’ll go back to my beloved classic Hollywood stars, back to the silent age when the bathtub gin this actress loved was the rage. She was known as the original madcap screen queen decades before comediennes like Lucille Ball became household names: Scorpio Mabel Normand.  

John Lennon

Stats

birthdate: October 9, 1940

major planets:

Sun: Libra

Moon: Aquarius

Rising: Aries

Mercury: Scorpio

Venus: Virgo

Mars: Libra

Midheaven: Capricorn

Jupiter: Taurus

Saturn: Taurus

Uranus: Taurus

Neptune: Virgo

Pluto: Leo

minor asteroids and points:

North Node: Libra

Lilith: Pisces

Vertex: Libra

Fortune: Capricorn

East Point: Aries

elemental dominance:

air

earth

modality dominance:

cardinal

house dominants:

6th

1st

11th

planet dominants:

Mars

Saturn

Sun

sign dominants:

Libra

Taurus

Aries

Yoko Ono

Stats

birthdate: February 18, 1933

major planets:

Sun: Aquarius

Moon: Sagittarius

Rising: Libra

Mercury: Pisces

Venus: Aquarius

Mars: Virgo

Midheaven: Cancer

Jupiter: Virgo

Saturn: Aquarius

Uranus: Aries

Neptune: Virgo

Pluto: Cancer

minor asteroids and points:

North Node: Pisces

Lilith: Gemini

Vertex: Aries

Fortune: Sagittarius

East Point: Libra

elemental dominance:

air

fire

modality dominance:

mutable

house dominants:

5th

12th

3rd

planet dominants:

Venus

Moon

Uranus

sign dominants:

Aquarius

Virgo

Libra

Read more about their astrological synastry under the cut:

Relationship Overview:

Sun-sun synastry: Libra is attracted to strong, almost domineering, confident women, and Aquarius is no shrinking violet. As such, John reveals himself most plausibly and reliably through the formidable females in his life, regardless of whether they cherished or neglected, repaired or damaged, fortified or weakened him. A true Libra man, for all the fierce, influential, indomitable men in John’s life, it was the women who dominated it. Libra men also seem to have a thing for older women; in John’s case, this is possibly linked to the death of his mother when he was just 17. Yoko was the alpha female John needed, the partner he felt he deserved. She could hold her own in sophisticated company where John tended to feel inhibited. He would look to Yoko for guidance and approval in most things, as a child looks to his mother. Tellingly, he called Yoko “mother”. Often this pairing comes from divergent ethnic or cultural backgrounds and Libra inhabits a world into which Aquarius might not otherwise enter. Detractors might say this is no coincidence. So, it was with John and Yoko. This relationship was defined by inventiveness and upheaval. Quite a few think they’re strange. Abstract thinkers, they shared a mental affinity – each impacted the other’s state of mind. Aquarius can be like a drug for Libra. To John, as a Libra, who can feel like something of an anomaly himself, Yoko seemed not to judge him the way he imagines other women do, rating him against other males. There was an immediate mental affinity here, as well as mutual creative inspiration. No other female had the power to so quickly and immediately pussywhip the Libra, to the consternation of his friends and family. Indeed, he fell hard and fast here and was clingier than everyone likes to say Cancers are, as he literally could not leave her side. They can become like one mind and body, if not too insular and a bit smug. She brought out protective instincts he scarcely knew he possessed, opening a wellspring of feeling, making this most conceptual of men feel mighty real. Libra rules Aquarius’ 9th house of the higher mind, education, belief systems, and more literal means for expanding one’s vistas. Yoko was aware that this relationship provided her with the ability to grow, intellectually and creatively. For sure, this was not a traditional bond for Yoko, who here wasn’t expected to fulfill a staid societal or gender role. It was an aspirational match for her, though not in terms of wealth or status (as her many detractors liked to asset), rather more philosophically, in her pursuit of true meaning in life. Aquarius, in turn, governs Libra’s cosmic 5th house of pleasures including love affairs, creative work, children, socializing, and all such amusements. He loved her because there was little baggage that she brought into the bond, and having children with such a lady also appealed to him. For Libra, the scales, the only inanimate symbol in the zodiac, love tends to be something conceptual. But here John felt it acutely and needed to bestow it wholeheartedly.

Moon-moon synastry: In their relationship, their temperaments were mostly on the same plane. Her lunar Sagittarian outsized and vitriolic emotions bordered on insensitivity which complemented Lennon's God complex as well as his general self-satisfied douchiness courtesy of his Aquarian moon. His philanthropy was no more than a cynical smokescreen for how little he really cared for mankind – imagining no possessions while owning cattle herds, fur-coat fridges and multi-million-dollar homes. John sought the same degree of freedom in personal relationships as Yoko did. Of the two, John, the airy Aquarian moon, on occasion, needed to spend more time by himself and enjoy his solitude. Both were intellectual purists, and will have a lot of interesting things to talk about or teach each other. Complete emotional gridlock was avoided when both of them kept letting one another know where they stood emotionally, instead of hoping their issues will disappear on their own. Lunar Sagittarian Yoko may not have been as independent as John, and may on occasion, have demanded more time and attention from him than he could comfortably give. Another note that might helped this couple revolve around the Yoko’s fiery emotions. Jupiter rules the Sagittarius sign and controls, to a large extent, how this lunar sign processes emotions. As such, Jupiter makes Sagittarius types rather intense in their own way and prone to experiencing every emotion in a big way. If an argument occurred, it was very beneficial if the subject was broached calmly and peacefully, as this will have had a better effect on Yoko’s logical lunar Aquarian Moon husband, who shrinks from outbursts and loud accusations. Yoko was a patient and cool-tempered lunar Sagittarian, and as such, she was able to enjoy a long and successful relationship and marriage with John.

Venus-venus synastry: With his Venus in Virgo and hers in Aquarius, there was not much common ground to hold these two together, so this pairing is usually a case of ‘here today, gone tomorrow’. She was too bohemian for his more traditional tastes, and he was too sensible and conscientious for her. However since his sun was in Libra there was a better chance of long-term survival.

Mars-mars synastry: With her Mars in Virgo and his in Libra, they both set very high standards in the bedroom. Spotless hygiene, good manners and refined technique are required before she could relax enough to let go and really enjoy making love together. Minor irritations? She could be overcritical of them, and he annoyed her with his preoccupation with outer appearances. Also, her Virgo Mars in the 12th house accounted for her self-professed “lack of sexual adventurousness”, but it also meant that she was the power behind the public image of John, and often called the shots behind the scenes, often making househusbands of the men she had kids with (ex-husband Cox claimed that he was one when Kyoto was born, and Lennon was one with his son Sean). His 6th house Libra Mars mean that he often deferred to her out of peace but also out of love, and wanted to be of service to her. His power over her was the path of least resistance or passive resistance.

Planet dominance compatibility: His bold and hard-edged Sun, Mars, and Saturn dominance may have been at odds with her progressive and harmonious Uranus, Moon, and Venus dominance. John’s free, assertive and hard-nosed nature made him a bit impatient with her moods and conciliatory nature; however their sign compatibility made them more simpatico than usual.

Elemental dominance compatibility: Their mutual air dominance dictated that they were both communicative, quick and mentally agile, and they liked to stir things up. They likely were havoc-seekers on some level. They were oriented more towards thinking than feeling. They carried information and the seeds of ideas. Out of balance, they lived in their heads and could be insensitive to the feelings of others. But at their best, they helped others form connections in all spheres of their daily lives. His earth dominance grounded this union; her fire dominance provided it with passion.

House dominance compatibility: They had no rulerships in common; her most dominant house (the 5th) and his most dominant house (the 6th) dictated that they jointly believed in expressing themselves, however her need for it was manifested in a creative way; his need was manifested in an effort to refine and better himself as well as serve others. Their second most dominant houses (Lennon: 1st house, Ono: 12th) dictated that he was more of a vicious brute and sniveling baby, and she was more nebulous and vague in her interactions with others. Also this revealed how his childhood shaped his personality; he was the abandoned, needy child had never grown up. John adored and was in awe of his mother Julia and looked for her in every woman he met. Julia was warm, welcoming and bohemian, with a cheap but appealing glamour. Both he and his mother were daring, spirited sorts with a disdain for authority. It was Julia who paid for John’s first guitar, Julia who taught him the chords, Julia who invited him to practice at her place, since his stern aunt Mimi disapproved. Soon, he was spending nights at Julia’s. In retaliation, Mimi had John’s beloved dog Sally destroyed. The pet had been a lifeline to John, a link to Uncle George. John was shattered, and gravitated towards Julia and converted this cruelty into devotion. Their third most dominant houses (Lennon: 11th, Ono: 3rd) dictated that he had a love for humanitarian issues and friendships; she had a love for communication, especially through her art.

Sign dominance compatibility: Their most dominant signs (Lennon: Libra, Ono: Aquarius) dictated that this was a near-perfect match. Relationship-minded Lennon may view the quirky Ono as too independent and bohemian, and she can find his hesitancy and indecision annoying. Even so, these two have a great deal in common. They both tend to live in their minds, and need mates who were mentally alive. Their 2nd most dominant signs (Lennon: Taurus, Ono: Virgo), which dictated that sexually, this pair was well matched. Although she may have been slower to arouse, he had a ton of patience. With tenderness, warmth, and affection, he easily melted her well-known reserve. Overall, these two got along famously, and these two built a rich and rewarding life together. Their 3rd most dominant signs (Lennon: Aries, Ono: Libra) dictated that the chemistry between them was strong, and lovemaking was pleasurable and mutually rewarding. Moreover, they were both fun-loving and gregarious, and enjoyed an active social life. Even so, he could be driven to distraction by her indecisiveness, and she may have felt pressured by his super-fast decision making.

Venus-Vertex: The compatibility of her Venus and his Vertex (her Venus in Aquarius and his Vertex in Libra) as well as her 7th house Vertex that falls on his ascendant in Aries indicated this was a deeply fated and committed relationship. Feelings of friendship were also very strong. John was always desperately looking for love. The trouble with John, whenever he found it, he grew terrified of losing it. So he would react against it, and push it away. Happy love relationships were necessary for his physical well being. For her, marriage for money or status was also a goal.

Lilith: This was a very strong Lilithian relationship, but with their Liliths being in the lighter and noncommittal signs of Pisces (Lennon) and Gemini (Ono), it turned an otherwise dark obsession into something almost innocent and childlike yet still quite unconventional and polarizing nonetheless. His Lilith in Pisces was a powerful muse in his life as an innovative male thinker; he was dangerously attracted to women who were natural born mystics and cultivated their own myth, especially a Pisces rising, sun, moon, venus, mars, or dominant. However, Yoko is 12th house dominant, and her mercury and north node was conjunct his Lilith, so this added to his Lilithian attraction to her. Possible psychoanalytic explanations for Lennon's issues include his tumultuous relationships with his parents. Lennon's father abandoned him—which Lennon never forgave him for, despite his father's repentance—and in a 1979 audio confession, Lennon revealed that as a teen he bore sexual desires for his mother (who was a Pisces). He later regretted not having made a move on her. Ono’s Lilith in Gemini was in a strong positive aspect with two of Lennon’s major planets of attraction (sun, moon) as well as his ascendant, hence their obsessively co-dependent passion; he was obsessed with her mind and way of thinking as well as a harboring a very real romantic nature towards her. She made her mark on him completely.

Notable Aspects:

***orbs of 0 degrees (”tight orbs”) indicate that a relationship gets the full strength of that particular aspect’s energies. The higher the orb’s degrees are, the more diluted that aspect’s energies are to the relationship.***

jupiter square venus (orb: 0°) - Both Yoko and John felt a strong attraction and enjoy many pleasurable activities. Together Yoko and John enjoyed good fortune, exploring the realms of higher learning, culture, religion or metaphysics. They delighted in traveling to foreign lands, meeting new people and discovering different ways of life. Initially this union expanded their horizons and the attraction is strong. The trouble was that John couldn’t seem to settle down, always looking for new horizons. He wanted romance and excitement on a grand scale and expected Yoko to join in. Yoko also wants romance, but needs the security of commitment. John does not want to make a commitment. John enjoyed his freedom and couldn’t understand why Yoko is so insecure about their relationship. As the relationship progressed John became more impatient which in turn increases Yoko's insecurities. saturn square venus (orb: 0°) - On the one hand both Yoko and John loved each other and wanted to form a successful and loving bond. However, on the other hand they have to strive hard to overcome their misunderstandings of each other. Yoko wanted fun and pleasure. She had a lot of love to give, but had difficulty finding avenues through which to communicate her feelings to John. Yoko believed that John may be blocking any progress in their relationship, inadvertently spoiling the fun. At times Yoko feared that she will be stifled as the relationship continues. John took this relationship seriously, perhaps a little too seriously. He had difficulty overcoming his concerns about how the relationship should progress. John was a little too rigid in his beliefs, fearing true intimacy. The challenge for both Yoko and John was to face their fears and find a path forward. With hard work and determination they built a secure partnership based on mutual respect and love. While this combination of planets can indicate a serious personal relationship, it can also depict a partnership formed for the purpose of an artistic or creative project requiring both inspiration and hard work.  mercury trine north node (orb: 0°) - John and Yoko were destined to meet and learn from each other. Yoko gained insight and understanding through her association with John. John was a teacher imparting specific knowledge, or maybe John's presence communicated certain messages that were valuable for Yoko's life lessons. Either way John and Yoko were comfortable interacting with each other. Combined with other aspects in their synastry chart, this association indicates an intellectual rapport as well as a passionate or emotional bond. chiron octile mars (orb: 0°) - Yoko and John had difficulty overcoming past hurts and failures in their relationships. As a result their unresolved problems had an impact on this union. In particular, John's insecurities had a profound effect on this liaison. John was sensitive because of bad experiences in previous relationships. This caused problems in this association, because unwittingly, John reacted pessimistically to certain aspects of Yoko's behaviour. Unless Yoko always behaved in an understanding and compassionate manner, John took offense. This is because John was predisposed to view Yoko's actions in a negative light. It is possible that Yoko lacked sympathy to John's problems, but not necessarily so. The onus was on both Yoko and John to become aware of the problems so that they could heal these problems from the past and progress in a more joyful manner in their relationship. mercury trine mercury (orb 1°) - This combination indicates a meeting of true minds. John and Yoko were able to converse easily with each other, sharing the stimulation of exchanging thoughts and opinions. They also shared a similar outlook on life. John and Yoko understood each other and felt at ease together, enjoying each other's company. Lively conversations and shared pastimes featured in this relationship. They were able to appreciate each other's sense of humour and make light of any difficult arguments, often finding a creative way of approaching problematic subjects. In other words this was a harmonious combination and augured well for the relationship. John and Yoko's communication took the form of letter writing or the exchanging of notes. Whatever the form of communication it was important that both John and Yoko keep in touch. This was an ideal combination for a personal love relationship and friendship. It is also beneficial for a work association, which required an intelligent and energetic approach to a joint project or task. ascendant conjunct uranus (orb: 1°) -  Yoko and John felt strongly drawn to each other. Yoko was enthusiastic about her relationship with John. She enjoyed exploring new territories with John. On the whole this was a positive combination, but only if Yoko and John allowed each other a great deal of independence. In particular Yoko craved the freedom to explore her own interests. Both Yoko and John enjoyed the fun and excitement of a brief encounter and, due solely to the other factors in their charts, made solid plans for a shared future. mercury square saturn (orb: 1°) - Problems these two have could include poor communication, judgmental or critical attitudes to each other or a fear of intimacy. On a positive note both John and Yoko shared a mutual respect for each other and were willing to work towards sound communication. However, they were likely to strike obstacles along the way, which will test their commitment. If John and Yoko overcome these obstacles then they will have strengthened their bond. If not, one or both of them was likely to feel imprisoned by the relationship. John's self-esteem was adversely affected if Yoko was too critical. A personal relationship is the most difficult to balance with this combination. A working relationship is also a challenge. mercury sextile neptune (orb: 1°) - Both John and Yoko felt excited by this union. Their imaginations were enlivened. In particular John's ideas were encouraged by Yoko's creative input, enabling him to better express himself. They worked together on a creative project. Communication had an easy flow, more intuitive than concrete. John and Yoko established an empathetic bond which enabled them both to exchange their thoughts and feelings with ease. John and Yoko felt very much in love, viewing their union through rose-coloured glasses. Whatever the nature of the relationship, John and Yoko shared an interest in the arts, a spiritual path and/or a philanthropic activity. north node trine saturn/south node sextile saturn (orb: 1°) - Yoko's Saturn is combining with John's Node indicatied that this was a significant relationship. Yoko and John felt strongly drawn to each other, perhaps experiencing a sense that their relationship was written in the stars. In other words they felt as though they were destined to meet and form a union.  north node sextile moon (orb: 1°) - This was an important personal relationship, one that changed the course of Yoko's life and deeply affected John. Yoko and John felt strongly drawn to each other, perhaps experiencing a sense that their relationship was written in the stars. In other words they may have felt as though they were destined to meet and form a union. Whether the path of this relationship was smooth or rough, Yoko and John's paths were meant to cross. Passion ignited, anchored by a very real friendship. mc sextile north node (orb: 1°) -  Power was extremely individualistic and desired personal freedom in all personal relationships, including marriage. Annabella’s popularity with others and contacts with the public were erratic and unstable. He tended to suddenly meet and fall in love then end it just as suddenly. She regarded her spouse as more of a friend than a mate.    chiron quincunx sun (orb: 1°) - Yoko and John were presented with the challenge of reassessing their life goals in order that they may head in new directions. This relationship was a significant one enabling both Yoko and John to grow and change, but only after some soul searching. As a result of this union Yoko discovered new talents and a new sense of self and John found a new role as a teacher or healer. However, initially they had to overcome old hurts which stood in the way of honest communication. The path to greater self-understanding was not always smooth and this relationship is one of the lessons on the journey. Through delving into past hurts, this union could be a healing one and through each other Yoko and John can learn valuable lessons. It was important that Yoko and John developed compassion and understanding for each other. Otherwise they may unwittingly contribute to further emotional pain. ascendant quincunx jupiter (orb: 1°) - Power had a transforming affect on his relationship with Annabella and his environment and she was able to accept change and come to terms with new phases of her life with him and without him. They were both able to raise the level of awareness in others by altering their mode of personal interaction with each other. jupiter trine mars (orb: 2°) - Yoko and John were able to combine their talents well under the positive influence of the planets Mars and Jupiter. Their association provided them both with a zest for life. Yoko had the drive necessary for any joint projects, and John had the know-how and planning capabilities. Yoko and John set goals, worked towards them while overcoming obstacles along the way. Together they successfully achieved their ambitions. They enjoyed collaborating, gaining the respect of each other in the process. Yoko admired John's inspirational ideas. In turn John appreciated Yoko's initiative and energy. As well as working together Yoko and John also delighted in playing together. It's possible that they enjoyed sharing travel and sporting activities. Whatever joint project they undertook Yoko and John enjoyed good fortune. saturn quncunx moon (orb: 2°) - Yoko and John can both suffer from feelings of discontent and insecurity within this union. They worked hard to cover up their sense that some emotional warmth is lacking, but there were times when they despaired of getting their needs met. Yoko felt this lack of emotional warmth keenly. It was difficult for her to relax and feel truly appreciated in this relationship. John brought a certain coldness to the union, finding it difficult to generate emotional warmth. John may have felt that his attempts at intimacy were misunderstood and met with an overly-emotional reaction from Yoko. Much work needed to be done in order to understand each other. On a positive note they were committed to resolve difficulties. Therefore Yoko and John had the strong possibility of being able to stay in this relationship on a long-term basis and reap the rewards of a stable and secure union. A satisfying relationship resulted from Yoko's and John's patience and persistence. saturn trine mars (orb: 2°) - Yoko and John were striving to build something concrete whether it be a future together or work project. Together they had the strength and wisdom to achieve a shared ambition. This was not a flighty association. Both Yoko and John were aiming for a long-term and stable partnership. For this reason the union involved a contract, in their case, a marriage contract. There was a strong sense of destiny linked with this union. Yoko contributed the drive and initiative and John possesses the stability and practical aptitude. Yoko wanted to move forward, inspiring John to overcome obstacles that stood in their path. Yoko was full of enthusiasm, whereas John was more cautious. At times Yoko pushed John forward. At others John restrained Yoko, proving that there is wisdom in a slow but sure path. Together they achieved success in their joint enterprises in the long term. neptune sesquisquare venus (orb: 2°) - Yoko and John met and fell deeply in love, fully appreciating each other's unique qualities. Romance abounds. Together Yoko and John felt that they have found true love such as only Romeo and Juliet and Daphnis and Chloe experienced. However, there are problems. Yoko and John found that the initial idyllic love can start to prove illusory in the long term. As the relationship developed it became more difficult for them to escape from the demands of the mundane world into a world of romance. They become disillusioned. They would rather stay lost in a sea of blissful love than be reminded of the responsibilities of their separate lives. Both Yoko and John were vulnerable in this state of pretense. They needed to be wary of circumstances or people who preyed on their impressionable state. In particular they needed to avoid any spiritual groups, drugs and artistic enterprises that may be deceptive in their nature. Once Yoko and John have learned to face their relationship honestly and with discrimination then they were able to enjoy a creative and loving partnership as well as artistic and spiritual pursuits.  uranus conjunct chiron (orb: 2°) -  John and Yoko were able to leave behind painful memories of previous associations and pave new paths of understanding. Together they enjoyed exploring new ways of communicating and learning about each other and their own personal lives. They were an inspiration to each other. John challenged Yoko to enter new territory. John motivated radical changes in Yoko's life, which were healing in certain ways. Yoko offered new insights which inspired John to new creative heights. Together John and Yoko explored unorthodox methods of healing. north node trine chiron (orb: 2°) -  The healing powers of nature, music and the arts played a significant role in this union. John and Yoko had a romantic and empathetic relationship, in which they both placed importance on gentle and loving communication. As a result they were able to forgive and forget loved ones who have hurt them in the past, and move slowly towards a better understanding of their innermost selves and each other. The artistic and spiritual side of John's nature proved particularly healing for Yoko. Under John's gentle influence, Yoko was able to heal past emotional wounds and better express herself. Together they took part in a spiritual, healing or artistic project. north node trine venus (orb: 3°) -  This is the combination for lovers. This association was written in the stars. Yoko and John were in love, desiring to form a close and romantic bond, rather than remain friends only. Passion, romantic love and an intense desire to relate were central to this relationship. Within moments of meeting Yoko and John felt as if they had known each other for years. They enjoyed each other's company, discovering pleasures in common.  This was not an association to take lightly. It easily took over Yoko or John's lives. sun trine venus (orb: 3°) - It's likely that John and Yoko felt a strong attraction when they first met, falling deeply in love. However, John and Yoko were likely to remain friends even if they did not maintain an intimate partnership. Both John and Yoko felt at ease in each other's company, because they both felt that the other person was contributing positively to the union. As a result John and Yoko can relax and enjoy the benefits of their friendship. They seemed to be able to settle arguments in a friendly and loving fashion, communicating with ease. John felt that Yoko enhances his sense of self. He felt valued by Yoko and this helped him to truly shine in the world. Yoko felt that her creativity was enhanced by her relationship with John. The warmth and generosity of John helped Yoko better express herself in relationships. Yoko also benefited financially through her association with John. jupiter square saturn (orb: 3°) - John and Yoko had difficulty find the right balance between boldness and caution. On the one hand John was the risk-taker in this relationship, the person wanting to explore new territories and activities. He was excited by the many possibilities available as a result of this partnership's resources and felt constrained by Yoko. This is because Yoko erred on the side of discretion. She believed that a slow but sure approach was a sure sign of success. Yoko believed in the edict "moderation in all things", whereas John espoused the adage "nothing ventured, nothing gained". Neither John nor Yoko listened to each other. Both had trouble seeing things from the other person's point of view. It is possible that John and Yoko have met in order to learn something from each other in order to become stronger and wiser for future relationships. moon trine ascendant (orb: 4°) -  John's Moon combining with Yoko's Ascendant indicates that this was a significant personal relationship. John and Yoko felt strongly drawn to each other, enjoying a strong and loving bond. This relationship satisfied the emotional needs of John, who felt comforted by relating to Yoko. John gained new insights about himself and relating through his association with Yoko. In turn Yoko was attracted to John's willingness to be vulnerable and loving, and felt supported by this union. While this combination is most likely to indicate an intimate love union, it can also augur well for friendships, family relationship and work associations. jupiter trine neptune (orb: 4°) -  Both John and Yoko understood and shared each other's aspirations and dreams. At times their intuitive understanding of each other was so keen that they almost seem telepathically linked. It was possible that both John and Yoko shared a spiritual or religious conviction and belonged to the same group or church. This may have been a central force in their association. It is also possible that they took part in a philanthropic pursuit such as mission work in a foreign country or working for the same charitable organization. Whatever the outlet for their beliefs, both John and Yoko appreciated and enjoyed each other's values, thus enabling them to better pursue a more altruistic path in life. John and Yoko brightened each other's lives through their shared beliefs. sun opposing uranus (orb: 4°) -  John and Yoko were attracted to each other from the moment that they first meet and continued to experience excitement and joy in each other's company. Despite this sense of adventure, John and Yoko may have trouble maintaining a committed, long-term relationship. The initial enthusiasm can fade as John and Yoko began to experience the need to accommodate each other's needs and desires in this union. John and Yoko were each determined to maintain their individuality, which presented problems for any union that requires compromise. John and Yoko both wanted to do things their own way and became rebellious if the other person presented any obstacles. This was particularly true for Yoko, who stressed her individuality and can be unwilling to adjust to the demands of a serious relationship. Yoko did not want to be overridden by what she perceived as John's strong personality and may have had problems showing a long-term commitment. Likewise John believed that Yoko stood in the way of him expressing his true nature. On a more positive note this association brought something new and original into John and Yoko's lives and they both felt enlivened as a result. venus opposing sun (orb: 4°) -  Yoko and John felt a strong attraction to each other, but they couldn’t seem to communicate in a harmonious manner. Joint decisions about relationships were difficult. Yoko and John argued about subjects such as the future of their relationship, family associations, money matters and creative pastimes. They just couldn't seem to agree. Yoko felt frustrated. On the one hand Yoko was drawn to John. On the other hand Yoko knew that she was losing her identity in this relationship, and is often floundering to express herself. John was also frustrated. He felt overwhelmed by Yoko's powerful personality and was unable to get on with his creative pursuits. Neither Yoko nor John really felt that they were benefiting from this union, and yet they felt drawn to try to resolve the problems. Yoko and John finally decided to resolve their differences. They may have needed to seek counsel on how to resolve their differences. venus opposing mercury (orb: 4°) -  No matter how hard Yoko and John tried they found it hard to relax in each other's company. Disharmony seemed to infiltrate their union at every turn. The problem was that Yoko and John simply could not find any common ground for agreement. Their opinions and values clashed, which made any shared activities fraught with tension. In particular John felt that he was subjected to Yoko's unnecessary criticism. John felt unappreciated and lonely, unable to share warm and loving moments required in his relationship. On the other hand Yoko believed that she couldn’t express her opinions freely without being misunderstood. Yoko lost confidence in her communication abilities and possibly withdrew her attention from the relationship. The positive side is that Yoko and John were attracted to each other and worked towards improving their communication skills. In this way they learned to value each other. pluto trine moon (orb: 6°) -  This is an intense and powerful relationship. Yoko and John felt a strong attraction to each other, one that seemed to constantly draw them together. Sexual attraction may be powerful. Yoko's and John's deep feelings for each other needed to be nurtured in a loving manner in order for the union to be long lasting. This relationship was a positive or a negative experience, depending on how Yoko and John handled intense feelings. Yoko was likely to feel that John has transformed her life in some way. It's possible that John has changed the way that Yoko felt about the world, making her conscious of things that have been bubbling under the surface for a long time. Life was not the same for Yoko once she encountered John. Yoko was able to see through the explosive behaviour to the true heart of John and to nurture John's goodness in ways that he had not previously encountered. As a result John deeply appreciated the emotional support offered by Yoko. This was indeed a passionate union.