#at least jeanne has the grace to admit he was wrong

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

hey i love your in depth analysis’s you’re super smart and comte deserves everything and that’s on period but i’ve always wondered what is actually comte’s net worth? like how much money does he really have and like how?! i know he’s a noble but for real something’s up lol💀 also if you were to guess how rich would he be in the 21st century in mc’s time? sorry ik that’s a lot of questions but i just need to know lmao

Ah, thank you friend! 💕💕💕

As to answering your curiosity, I must admit I don’t know anything for certain when it comes to Comte’s sizable fortune. That being said, I can offer what I understand to be the source of his conceivably endless wealth.

Mild Comte rt spoilers below the cut  

There are two factors that I think contribute a great deal to his material prosperity. The first being his pureblood status. Remember that to be a pureblood means that you must have been raised by two vampires who were also purebloods. As such, we can understand that le Comte receives potentially centuries’ worth of an inheritance from the moment he is born (and we get no indication of siblings with whom he must share). Where this money comes from I can’t say for certain, but there is reasonable evidence to assume that his parents probably amassed their wealth over a very long period of time. Though he speaks of it in passing, Comte mentions that he only recently took up his family legacy. As such, we can understand that he had been avoiding his noble lineage/title and amassed endowment for almost four hundred years, give or take. Knowing this it can be reasonable to assume that some of the money grew as a product of time’s passing, and probably profitable management of the family’s relics/more expensive resources. I know little about financial management, but I have no doubt his starting point was probably staggering in accordance with this context.

The second are his lifelong journeys around the world. I very much doubt he wouldn’t amass a sizable fortune of his own and collection of priceless artifacts over four hundred years of life. Even without his inheritance, he probably had plenty of money that he just didn’t have much use for. (Remember, purebloods are fairly sturdy; they have no great need to eat human food on a regular basis or need much by way of medical care. The most he probably spent was on alcohol or maybe gambling in his wilder days lmfao. Okay but now I need a fic of him scamming casinos and wealthier nobles for shits and giggles just because he enjoys watching bastards balk/squirm...). Expanding on that, I don’t think Comte engaged in any kind of financial pursuit that meant exploiting the weak and vulnerable. I say that only because the game has shown us a man that is highly principled; if he deems it against his personal values (which tend to be decidedly egalitarian) he will never do it. He is a very easygoing man, but that’s not to be mistaken for careless or without an obstinate bone in his body. Make no mistake, if he disagrees with somebody or disapproves of a course of action, indications of his displeasure will be clear. 

To those that would offer unscrupulous designs, the only way I could really see that happening is if it was a much younger, perhaps more naive Comte. And even so, I don’t think he would keep whatever benefits he wrought in such an exchange; I imagine he would be much more interested in restoring the dignity of the offended parties. In his own route he says outright that he operates on the principle of Noblesse Oblige (”nobility obligates”), and we see him act on it time and time again. For those who have never heard of the phrase, it is a French expression meant to convey the sense that with any kind of excessive privilege comes a dual responsibility to look after those without the same resources. It was a concept very much hammered home by the women writers of the late 1800s--such as Elizabeth Gaskell--who were less than pleased to see flagrant displays of wealth while people where languishing in poverty. They often took it a step further, saying that intervention shouldn’t be something that poor people should be expected to beg for to deserve. Rather, the wealthy were obligated to pay attention and make an effort, no matter how thankless. Given what I understand about Comte, I think he is very much in agreement with that sentiment. He won’t give what he can’t offer, but anything he has in excess--or even in good measure--he will give without any trepidation or ill feeling. 

For those that might argue foul play in regards to preserving his reputation, I can’t really see him engaging in industries that are exploitative even if it meant upholding social contacts. We have seen him often speak to the questionable nature of other nobles and their actions, and he does not excuse them or seem to agree with them at all. He may offer pleasantries and pretenses, but I don’t think he truly befriends or chooses to work with people like that. At best, he tolerates their existence and offers them placating smiles/letters. His title means absolute shit to him if it means he has to watch a person (especially one that he can help) suffer in absolute silence. I’ve said it before, but it’s literally the only reason Leonardo tolerates his noble status. Leonardo has been unequivocal about his sheer disdain for the ruling class, and while Comte does not expound to the same degree--I’d wager his feelings are similar. The difference, I think, is that Comte tends to believe in both the vile and redeeming qualities people can offer. He sees people entirely for their potential; he only removes people from his life when they prove to have no ability to improve/change or care about others. Leonardo, perhaps, is devoid of this longstanding patience by comparison. (He is in many ways a radical; believes hierarchies are entirely vile constructs intended to deprive people of basic necessities and intimacy, and must fundamentally be abolished). If people seem shallow or interested in things he does not deem important, he zones right out/ignores them and considers helping them a waste of time, a hopeless endeavor. Comte seems to be more capable of sympathizing with other people’s perspectives, and even enjoys supporting them if given the chance. He may dislike hierarchies, but he’s a realist by comparison--he sees that hierarchies are how the world manages to operate with some coherence, and he weaves his way through and around these systems to improve the living conditions of people who need it. The exchange here is that Comte is comparatively brittle when compared to Leonardo; the second he sees someone (especially an innocent) getting hurt or excessive displays of force, he gets so furious/terrified that he begins to lose control. 

As to Comte’s modern financial status, I’m really not sure if I’d be able to predict that. But given that most of the people in the world who began with sizable fortunes have been able to preserve and expand them exponentially, I could see him landing comfortable in the millions at least. (I offer that because to be in the billions usually means wholescale theft, and I doubt he’d get to that point with his careful, historic accumulation of money). I’d wager he would donate whatever he didn’t need if he wasn’t still taking care of the men, but otherwise he’d probably use his resources to spoil his boyos and loved ones.

[dweemeister]

A Letter to Three Wives (1949)

In another time, during my mid-twenties, I would be considered old to have never married. Millennials, in their young adulthood, have stared down an economic crisis and now a pandemic that has encumbered societies in unprecedented ways. The median age for a first marriage has never been higher. Go back to the years after World War II in the United States and one will find a record amount of marriages (and divorces) among those in their early twenties. Marriages then and now test the forces of attraction as they ebb, survive disagreements, temptation, differences in character and values. Few other films capture that essence as well as Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s A Letter to Three Wives. Released by 20th Century Fox, A Letter to Three Wives is set in an idyllic, upper-crust suburban America – a reality most Americans are unfamiliar with. Yet, the tensions in this drama are deeply felt, and the anxieties of the three wives are shown with extraordinary compassion and understanding.

Somewhere in what looks like upstate New York (still close enough to drive to the Big Apple and back in a day), Deborah Bishop (Jeanne Crain), Rita Phipps (Ann Sothern), and Lora Mae Hollingsway (Linda Darnell) are volunteers who are about to take an annual riverboat ride for the underserved children in the community. Lunches have been prepared. The children are running up and down the decks, excited for a weekend of play. The ship’s engine sounds ready for cast off. In this town of enormous two-story homes, spacious front yards, old trees overlooking residential streets, and a quaint Main Street, even cosseted families help their neighbors in need. Before embarking, they receive a letter from their friend, Addie Ross (who is never fully seen; voiced by Celeste Holm), saying that she is leaving town with one of their husbands. She does not specify whose husband has she run off with: Bradford “Brad” Bishop (Jeffrey Lynn), George Phipps (Kirk Douglas), or Porter Hollingsway (Paul Douglas; no relation to Kirk). 

After reading the letter, Deborah, Rita, and Lora Mae decide not to speak about it for the rest of the trip, so as not to spoil the mood. During the trip and picnic, all three wives reminisce about their marriages as if they fully expect it is their respective husband – each of whom has, at one point in the past, admitted attraction to Addie Ross – who has been unfaithful. What could possibly have gone wrong, they wonder as they remember. This is shown in three lengthy flashbacks before the trip concludes and the women return home.

Already boasting breakthrough hits with Dragonwyck (1946) and The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947), Mankiewicz would find himself among the elite of 20th Century Fox’s directorial lineup with A Letter to Three Wives. Joseph L. Mankiewicz served not only as director, but as screenwriter in this adaptation of A Letter to Five Wives by John Klempner – too many wives, said Fox studio head Darryl F. Zanuck, as writer Vera Caspary adapted the story for four wives and Mankiewicz eliminated one more. Indeed, given how this film is organized, five wives are too many and four would be a stretch. Mankiewicz and Caspary’s treatment of the three stories manages to tie each wife’s/married couple’s story to the others, while retaining each marriage’s distinct dynamics.

First is Deborah. Played by Jeanne Crain, she is a U.S. Navy veteran, having served in the Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service (WAVES) and met her now-husband, Brad, while in the Navy. Her flashback takes us to the time when Brad introduced her to his friends’ circle and the country club’s social for the first time. Being out of uniform and donning a formal dress is an alien concept to her, and she is worried about making a fool of herself in front of Brad’s friends and everyone gathered there. There are hints in this first vignette of a class divide between Brad and Deborah, but this is never expounded upon for Deborah (Lorna Mae’s segment will lean into this). Nevertheless, the screenplay confronts Deborah’s fears about being the new girl, imposter syndrome, and her social anxiety. This could be treated as a punchline, as some 1930s and ‘40s films were more inclined to depict. But the writing and Jeanne Crain’s unsettled visage in her performance treat her feelings with legitimacy, acceptance, and good humor. Deborah’s flashback in A Letter to Three Wives sets the tone for the film: always rooted in humanistic drama, but not without some gentle comedy.

For Rita and George Phipps, their scenes together are more confrontational, with the other trying to assert as much control in their off-kilter lives as they can. She writes for radio dramas; he is a schoolteacher in language arts. She wants him to secure a higher-paying job (as if their comfortable house isn’t already enough, apparently); he feels like he has found his calling in teaching and think radio drama writing makes a mockery of great literature. Viewers more attuned to the politics of gendered pay differences might find George’s assertions to be backwards. The fact that it is even shown at all in A Letter to Three Wives upends the stereotypes of a male breadwinner – while not portraying the husband as a jobless ne’er-do-well – is remarkable, regardless of artistic medium. Yes, this is always framed as Rita’s story, but it takes her and George’s concerns as seriously as the other. Again, we see Mankiewicz and Caspary treating both side of a married couple with all respect to what fulfills them professionally and personally – occasionally in a relationship or friendship there is a clash of interests, but it is up to both to work through those differences. Though not his finest performance, Kirk Douglas – given the rough-edged persona cultivated in his filmography – is perfect casting. Ann Sothern’s passive-aggressive delivery of her dialogue is a joy, as we know she means not to offend. Those who adore Old Hollywood character actors will notice an uncredited, scene-stealing Thelma Ritter during Rita and George’s vignette – her last uncredited film appearance before greater (credited) performances for her future.

With Linda Darnell and Paul Douglas starring, Linda Mae’s flashback was the least satisfying for me, but also the most comedic. Linda Mae is from a working family – the finances difficult, the home ramshackle. Her story is set before meeting Porter, who just so happens to be her wealthy employer. The ethics of a wealthy executive being engaged with a younger employee (this soon-to-be married couple appears to have the largest age difference of the three, even though the age difference between Jeanne Crain and Jeffrey Lynn as Deborah and Brad is similar) are murky at best, and the dynamics of their relationship deserves to be viewed rather than described. Their marriage is not one of convenience, nor one based on values, but it overcomes the class differences – illustrated hilariously – that should make their story together impossible. It appears Linda Mae and Porter are on unstable ground, speaking to the unease in her socioeconomic status and his lingering pain over a failed marriage. Mankiewicz and Caspary’s screenplay, for the first time, appears a little unsure about what to do with Porter – whose free-wheeling personality sees Linda Mae make fewer demands than her friends. The resolution may surprise some in its brevity (and I imagine some will take issue to it), but it speaks to the messiness of individuals and how love contorts and forgives.

Linking all three vignettes together is the unseen Addie Ross. Portrayed in voiceover by Celeste Holm, Addie’s presence reverberates around the film half-seriously, as the three wives wonder which husband has been poached. But most importantly, what unites the film is the friendship between Deborah, Rita, and Lora Mae. Credit the performances of Crain, Sothern, and Darnell (one of the best performances in a tragically shortened career). Each of their characters has the others’ backing – evidenced early on, when Rita counsels Deborah before the latter’s first night out in town. Their promise to not speak of Addie’s provocative letter until their trip is over holds, reflecting a predisposition to suburban secrecy and upholding gendered mores that say women are too emotional and should restrain emotional outbursts. Not once are the wives’ bonds to each other fractured. Though the wives are collectively silent, the audience knows that they must be going through that punched-in-the-gut feeling that everyone experiences sometime in their life. That this is depicted with such grace speaks to the masterful writing and a fantastic ensemble performance.

Had A Letter to Three Wives remained as A Letter to Five Wives, the wives would have been played by Gene Tierney (1944’s Laura), Linda Darnell, Maureen O’Hara (1947’s Miracle on 34th Street), Dorothy McGuire (1947’s Gentleman’s Agreement), and Alice Faye (Fox’s primary musical superstar in the 1930s) – all set to shoot in November 1946. Talk about a “who is who” of 20th Century Fox-contracted actresses! This is not to downplay the credentials of Crain or Sothern, but the former was a young actress yet to realize the heights of her career and the latter was best-known for the Maisie series at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM, who loaned Sothern to Fox for this film). With Darryl F. Zanuck’s recommendation to revise the script to cut the film down to three wives, shooting did not begin until June 1948.

There is much that A Letter to Three Wives covers. From returning veterans to gender-coded expectations to class, this is a film attempting to make sense of a time when couples hurried to marry, with the United States’ economic boom extending into peacetime. Its flashback structure may seem a hackneyed thing almost seventy years later, but each additional segment layers poignancy to the past and present. So often overshadowed by Mankiewicz’s next film (some little thing called All About Eve), it has few rivals in Western cinema among films on marriage, in exultation and anguish. A Letter to Three Wives is Americana at its finest – not in blind celebration of these days long past of manicured lawns, dinner parties, and children playing until sundown; but in acknowledgment of human foibles that have and always will persist. It is the stuff that makes life interesting.

My rating: 10/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. A Letter to Three Wives is the one hundred and fifty-ninth feature-length or short film I have rated a ten on imdb.

[gensou-no-toshokan]

azazel and nina first date? maybe with their first kiss /winks

Okay, first I’m sorry for taking so long with this request but I wanted to make this onw right and I needed some time.

I don’t think I need to say this is (most likely) canon divergence right? Specifically let’s all pretend that when Nina and Jeanne escaped they took Azazel with them, how? Because fanfic that’s why, JK, because Dromos destroyed the prison cell Azazel was held in, and Kaisar managed to get him in the carriage before giving himself in.

Okay, enough yadda yadda, here you go:

“I’m not putting a foot into the Land of the Gods.”He said, managing to sound mocking even through his numerous injuries.

“I’m not asking you to do anything, just tell usthe fastest way to get there!” The older woman shot back

“Even if I tell you, this sorry excuse of acarriage will never pass the barrier without any help.” 

“Azazel! Please, you can tell me that you don’twant to see Mugaro again right?” Nina said attempting to plead and not a goodcall by the looks of it because when his eyes locked with hers, she could seebetrayal and deep disappointment in them. 

“Tch …Mugarois with them now, I doubt he needs me or you forthat matter.” He said, turning away from both of them. “Not like itsurprises me from the Gods to use him like a weapon…”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jeanne asked,teeth gritted and fist balled.

“…using anymeans to always impose their peace,and attempting to eliminate those who may be a treat or oppose their power,hardly any better than humans, Gods have really not changed at all since myfall…”

“So, El was only worthy of your compassion when youthought he was a demon child?! Jeanne yelled at him, and Nina had to stepbetween the two before anything broke out.

“H-home!” She said all of the sudden, “Jeanne!The old lady in my village knows how to get to the Land of the Gods! We can askher!” Nina allowed herself to feel proud at remembering this detail, andlooking at Azazel laying down, and Jeanne still glaring at him, she added: “And..we can rest and have someone look after Azazel’s wounds, people in my villagedon’t think badly of demons I swear!”

Gosh! It was weird and exhausting to try to be thesensible one here.

“Nina’s home!” 

Those were the words Azazel kept hearing into aloop while, one kid after another kept on climbing on top of Nina until she wason the wooden floor from the onslaught, their tiny and annoying voices weregiving him a headache.

“Nina?” This voice sounded older and less screechyand Azazel felt thankful for the brief silence it ensued from her presence, itwas a middle aged woman, whom he just knew had had to be related to Ninabecause they had the same smile… which dwindled slightly when her eyes shiftedto look at her daughter’s companion.

More specifically him, as he was aware of herstaring at his horns, he remembered that Nina said her mother was a human…

“Mom! This are Jeanne and Azazel! Their… friends ofmine from the capital!”

The woman said nothing, and her eyes looked at Ninaagain.

“So, that’s the type of clothes people wear in thecapital.”

“Try to keep still.” The woman kept on saying asshe kept on applying disinfectant to his wounds. “Even Nina is not such adifficult patient…” Azazel said nothing, and just attempted to do as she said,but it was hard when unlike Rita who went about curing him with machine-like efficiencythis woman insisted on getting all over his person, attempting to do small talkand overbearing as if he was a child. “Once the girls come back, you cango a use take a bath, it will soothe your muscles.” 

It made him restless.

“Then afterwards, maybe that nice lady… Jeanne wasit? Can give you and Nina some time alone for yourselves.”

The strangled sound that came from his mouth onlymade the woman chuckle, probably confusing it with embarrassment, leavingAzazel at loss of what to do next. Nina was… a naïve little girl who wasignorant of many things, was all types of annoying but with a great power thatwith proper time and training, she might be able to something of herself withit.

That was the extent in which Azazel allowed himselfto think of her so far, an approach that had failed both of them miserably.

“I must admit that I never expected her to set hereyes on someone like you…” A demon she probably meant. “But I’m hardlysomeone to talk about in such matters, I suppose she takes after me too.”

Azazel was fighting the urge to snap at the womanabout her hilariously wrong perceptions of him and Nina’s non-existentrelationship, but then... maybe he could pry information out this.

“Has Nina’s transformation always been... sovolatile?” He asked.

“Oh my, I supposed it was too much to expect thatshe’d keep a low profile...” The woman looked worried but then she smiled againand continued talking “kids around here start changing around the 5th or 6thbirthday, unfortunately back then... Bahamut was awakened and even our hiddenvillage was threatened with its fire balls... that’s how Nina lost herfather.” 

“I see...” so she never got a proper control overit to begin with? That explained a lot. 

“Normally i would be so open about these thingswith a ... foreigner on top of it, but if she told you her secret she musttrust you... and I noticed she doesn’t blush around you either.” 

“Sorry, my mother insisted that I took you out toget some fresh air for some reason.” Nina said, trying not to look at Azazelclearly annoyed expression. “Since I needed to pick up some clothes andprovision for our travel she insisted on it and-” 

“Stop rambling.” He said interrupting her withouteven looking and just grumbled below his breath whenever someone stared at himopenly.

“Look! It’strue that Nina brought a ...companion from the Capital!” Nina heard some kids say and he way the giggledand pointed at the ensure what exactly they meant by ‘companion’.

Even shewasn’t that dense.

Nothing further away from the truth, because afterfailing to him, like she had there was no way he would ever trust her again,especially after he saw her transform from the embrace of his sworn enemy.

There was no possible reconciliation for the manshe met in the Festival and the ruthless King who had been intent on fightingAzazel and Kaisar to death, who imprisoned her without a second thought, andwho had wanted Mugaro dead, the man she saw him activate a weapon of massivedestruction was the same she danced with.

It still hurt to think about it, and even if shewas sure a part of her heart would still bleed for him, she knew it waspointless to hope for any other outcome.

But her mind was made when she retained herconscience in her dragon form and fought his men.

“Azazel.” She spoke and without turning to see him,she knew he looked at her. “I promise I won’t doubt again.”

For what felt a long long minute he said nothing,then she felt his hand on her shoulder.

“Let’s go back your mother will worry.” He said,still not looking at her, but his hand was warm a the touch.

“Jeanne, what do you think about Azazel?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore, as the HolyMaiden and he as a Fallen one we were enemies and both of us attempted to killeach other more than once... then he helped us when Bahamut awakened... and hesaved El...”

“He tried to kiss me... ah! Only to try and make metransform into a Dragon tough!” 

“That’s a ridiculously appropriate irony.” Jeannesaid almost chuckling.

“Why?”

“I suppose you haven’t heard the story of how hefell from God’s grace?”

Azazel could not say he knew much about dragons,unlike demons and gods, traditionally they were considered more like forces ofnature than actual individuals with any type of alignment to any side.

Much like Bahamut... why had he ever allowedhimself to think of Nina as a demon? Probably out of desperation.

While the old woman rambled about her feat -confirming that she was essentially older than him by at least a couplecenturies if not more - he looked at a tapestry of a full-fledged dragon on topof a mountain with a human woman next to it.

“That’s the Florid Dragon and a Maiden, our foreparents, or at least a legend that says as much, she was abducted by the dragonbecause of her beautiful voice, eventually the maiden stole is heart and hereturned her to her home... the next year the first of our people were born.”

“...I would call it ridiculous if I hadn’t heardmore pathetic stories of ancient beings falling prey to their own desire andlust for humans.”

“Like anangel who literally fell for ahuman woman?”

“...What?” He said, his head turning quickly toface her.

“Nothing!” She said, making her best to look nonchalantand being the bad liar she was, failing miserably at it.

‘She knows’ he thought.

He could only be thankful that the old woman calledfor Nina before he failed to conceal his embarrassment…

Pathetic stories indeed…

“Hey Jeanne?” She had asked after she finishedrelaying the story.

“Yes Nina?” Jeanne prompted her while they got outof the thermal waters.

“Would you hate me if I let Azazel kiss me?” Sheasked, but maybe the more appropriate question would be if he wouldtry to again.

“To turn into a dragon?” She asked lookingcarefully at her.

“Yes...”She said, her mind still processing what Jeanne has told her about him... shewas sure of it, maybe... probably.

[whosoever-in-christ-blog]

3 Ways to Hate Your Family Jeanne Harrison It's easier than you may think. At least, it's easier than we'd like to admit. The world pretends love comes naturally, springing out of an unexpected kiss or a baby's first smile. But if love is an iceberg, these things are just the tip. They're the tiny parts we see, the snapshots we post online. Below the surface, true love is daunting. It's not the stuff of fairytales; it's the stuff of war. True love is about bone-weary battles against our flesh, endless determination, and desperate cries to the General in the darkest nights. Love is many things, but "easy" is not one of them. Now hatred, on the other hand, comes easily. It's not pretty or socially acceptable, but it is easy. Hatred is a reflex to injured pride, trampled dreams, and the wrongs we suffer. Cross me twice, and I can almost feel my heart harden. Can you relate? Growing up, my mom explained it with the phrase, "Closing your spirit." She used to say, "It's so easy to close your spirit to others, Jeanne. But I promised God I would never close my spirit to my husband or my kids." I imagined her "spirit" was like a little door on her heart. Bam! Slammed shut! When I got married I thought the promise was unnecessary. Of course, I'll never close my spirit to him! Why would I? I love him! But then the misunderstandings, disappointments, and resentment piled up along with the dirty dishes and laundry. Bam! I wanted to slam the door of my heart in his face! Bam! Bam! Bam! Do you want me to show you how easy it is to slam that door? How easy it is to let your heart grow cold toward your family? I can do it in three steps. Step 1: Expect your family to satisfy you. The very first step to hating your family can begin long before you've even met them. All you have to do is build lofty expectations. Believe you are incomplete without a man. Set your hope for happiness on one day becoming a mother. Tell yourself these things will satisfy every empty crevice in your soul. Then idolatrously anticipate them. Threaten to doubt God's character unless He delivers them on your timetable. I promise when these gifts finally arrive, you will be ripe to resent them. Few things beat a faster path to bitterness than disappointment. The loftier the expectations, the graver the disappointment. But remember, in order to truly disappoint you, these things must take Christ's place in your heart. They must bear a burden they were never meant to bear. Otherwise, you might turn your eyes upon Jesus, and in the light of His goodness you might let your family off the hook. You might give them the freedom to fail you. You might love them when they wrong you, serve them when they exhaust you, and endure because Someone Else is rewarding you. Jesus is just like that! He has a way of satisfying so thoroughly we're not hungry for anything else. He makes promises like, "Whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life" (John 4:13–14). The first step toward resenting your family is to give them Jesus' job: expect them to wholly satisfy you. Step 2: Value "happiness" supremely. Next, you must love happiness more than anything else. I'm not talking about "contentment happiness"; I'm talking about "comfort happiness." Facebook happiness. You know that image you have of the picture-perfect life? The sweet, healthy children, the romantic husband, the nice house and fabulous vacations? Frame it! Frame it on the walls of your heart, so you can bow down and worship it. Let it become the goal of your existence. And when real life doesn't measure up, daydream about an easier life! Daydream about freedom, about selfish ambition, about everybody else's blessings. Do this, and you will learn to hate suffering. Moreover, you will hate the God who dares develop character through hardship (James 1:2–3). Where sorrow could have been a tutor in your life, she will instead become an enemy. Where difficulty could have born courage, she will instead bear bitterness. And the more you hate these teachers, the more you will hate the family who welcomed them into your life. Step 3: Fix your eyes on the temporary. Finally, you must live like this life is all that matters. Strive for momentary pleasure. Pin all your hopes���your very identity—on how your children turn out. Nag your husband into becoming the kind of man who can make your life on earth better. More financially comfortable. More exciting. More enjoyable. When he and the kids let you down, tally up their shortcomings. Count the number of ways you "out-serve" them. The number of things you've sacrificed for them. Meditate on these sacrifices, until they eclipse the sacrifices Christ has made for you. At all costs, do not view these light, momentary troubles with an eternal perspective lest you glimpse the everlasting glory they are achieving for you (2 Cor. 4:17). Embracing Our Inadequacy Have I convinced you the path to a hard heart is wider than we'd like to think? I wish I could tell you I'm writing this article based on all the observations I've made in other people's lives. But I'm not. I'm writing it (with tears in my eyes!) based on the observations I've made in my own life. Oh, it is such a battle! Love is such a battle. And sometimes victory feels impossibly distant. Have you ever felt that way? Like it's just too hard? Embrace it. Dear sister, embrace the failure and the inadequacy. Because hiding within is our need for God. Much to our sorrow, as we grow older we may have to say, Oh how many times I have failed! But joyfully, we can also say, Oh how faithful He is! Oh, how much I will always need Him! Our brokenness becomes beautiful when it magnifies God's grace. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. . . . For when I am weak, then I am strong (2 Cor. 12:9-10). Precious daughter of God, where are you weak when it comes to loving your family? What might change if you invited Christ to empower you with His strength?

[chaldeaposting]

The Maiden’s Arrival

Chaldea Summoning Room

“Are you really sure about this?” Gilgamesh asks Shǒu.

As usual, he’s accompanying Shǒu on another attempt to summon new allies, so that he can “judge if they’re worthy of fighting alongside the King of Heroes”.  Or so he says.

“Not really? But my gut tells me it’s a good day to attempt a summon. And I think we’ve stockpiled enough catalysts to try, don’t you think?” Shǒu answers offhandedly.

“Ha! I suppose so. Your gut have bolstered our forces quite immensely these last few months. Very well, let us see what happens this time.” Gilgamesh nods, convinced.

“Well, I’m not expecting much. But let’s see what happens!”

With a smirk, Shǒu raises his hand and invokes the summoning circle, using the golden ticket as catalyst.

The circle glows white, and a white orb comes out.

“Hmph. A Craft Essence? Business as usual, I see.”

“Well, I did say it was just a good feeling after all. All right, let’s try this next one!”

The circle once again glows white.

And what appeared was totally unexpected.

Blond hair tied into a brain. Silver armor atop blue clothes. A white flag.

It could only be…

“Servant Ruler. Jeanne D’Arc. I am truly happy to…”

Jeanne looks at Shǒu, and with eyes full of recognition, gives him a warm smile.

“...no. I believe, “I am happy to see you again” is more appropriate, wouldn’t you say, Master-san?”

Shǒu stands there speechless, partly surprised that his good feeling was once again on the money and partly that Jeanne was the one that answered the summons.

”What’s wrong, Master-san? Is there something on my face?” Jeanne tilts her head, puzzled.

Shǒu suddenly grabs her in a ferocious hug.

“E-eh?! Master-san?” Jeanne was surprised, but accepts the hug.

“I’m just so glad to see you again, Jeanne. I never really got to thank you, and everyone else, for your help back in the Time Temple.” Shǒu says with his voice thick with emotion.

“There is no need for thanks, Master-san. We came to help out of our own free will, after all. We believed that you would be able to save the world, and you did it magnificently. If anything, I should be thanking you.” Jeanne’s voice is dipped with gratitude.

“Since my debt to you extends beyond saving the world….”

Jeanne thinks back to the time when Shǒu had travelled to the Orleans singularity.

She had been executed only a few days prior and was then immediately thrust into a Grail War.

Making the orientation from a living human being to a Servant was a disorienting experience, to say the least.

Adding the fact that she had manifested incompletely, having little access to the Skills usually given to the Ruler class.

She was as good as a novice, unskilled and useless to anyone.

All, except to him.

Novice she might have felt, to Shǒu she was like the strongest ally he could ever gotten. A mere fledgling himself, he was only plowing on through with sheer determination.  He tried his best, and while they got into quite a bit of trouble on the way, he never failed to support everyone as much as he could.

She couldn’t help but respect him. He was successful in doing what she couldn’t, and also managing to keep morale high. To Jeanne, who was undergoing a lot of emotional turmoil, his support was very essential. It gave her a pillar to lean on, and help her slowly come to terms with her new reality.

There came a night that she wanted to show her gratitude to him for his support (physically and emotionally). His reply was unexpected.

“I don’t really deserve your gratitude, Jeanne. Half the time, I don’t even know what I’m doing. I was suddenly thrust into this whole saving the world thing without having a lick of what to know or what to expect. Honestly, if it wasn’t for these video games I’d played as a hobby, I’d be having hard time coping…. Oh, sorry, you wouldn’t know what video games are right? Haha.” He gives a tired chuckle.

“Anyway, I’m not anything special, it’s you, Mashu, Ushi, Sasaki, Medea, and Kiyohime that deserve that praise. I’m just here to support you the best I can, if it’s in battle or even with talks like this. Though it feels like you’re the one supporting me this time.” A smile.

Jeanne was taken aback. She was both surprised and ashamed. Surprised that Shǒu was actually in the same boat as herself, scared and unsure. She also felt ashamed that she had forgotten one of the basics of leading, that showing uncertainty in front of the troops just lowers morale. She felt that she should’ve known better.

But, she also wondered why he was sharing this to her.

“Well, I just had a feeling that we’re the same. Or am I wrong?”

She was surprised that he had seen through her that easily.

“I can read the signs, I guess? Since I’m also the same.”

He looks at Jeanne, with determination in his eyes.

“I know i’m an inexperienced Master, and I know you’re still having a hard time adjusting to everything, but I took this mission and I’ll make sure to complete it. I’ll be relying on you until then.”

Moved, Jeanne stands and raises her flag.

“Don’t worry, Master-san! With this flag, I’ll make sure that no harm befalls us!”

A meaningful connection had been formed between Jeanne and Shǒu. Both were harboring the same doubts within themselves, but found the strength to carry on.

And it was the same strength that lead them to defeat Jeanne Alter and Gilles de Rais.

At the war’s end, when Jeanne was starting to disappear, she felt a twinge of sadness in her heart. Of having to leave Shǒu’s side. She was worried but she knew he was going to be fine. She had no basis to the contrary, but somehow in her heart, he knew he was going to be safe.

And so she managed to disappear with no regrets.

“Ahahaha. Well, it was a battle to save the world after all.”

Jeanne is returned to reality with Shǒu’s words.

“I know this is will sound silly of me, since you’re a Servant, but I’m really glad you managed to get away from the Time Temple safely.”

“Hee hee, well it is but your concern is appreciated.” Jeanne says this with a giggle.

For his part, Gilgamesh was just silently observing the events unfold before him.

“Hoo ho. This is quite a surprise. I’ve seen Shǒu be flustered, be happy, and be surprised, but this is the first time i’ve seen him actually hug a new Servant.” He murmurs to himself.

“Is it possible that…?” A shadow of a smile plays on his face.

Gilgamesh then notices that the two are still locked in the hug.

“While this is amusing it in it’s own right, this is getting a bit out of hand.”

“While i’m glad that you two are enjoying your sweet reunion, you have yet to greet your king, Maid of Orleans.” He directs this to the couple.

With a jolt, Shǒu lets go of Jeanne.

Jeanne, after composing herself,  takes a step forward, and greets Gilgamesh.

“Well met, King of Heroes. It has been a while since the Time Temple. I pray that you are well?”

“Indeed. I must thank you for your service, Maid. If it was not for your help, we would’ve been overwhelmed.” Gilgamesh acknowledges Jeanne’s greeting with a nod.

“Your words gratify me, Your Grace.”

“Speaking of which, you seem to be very fond of the Maid, Shǒu.”

Gilgamesh says, amused.

“Don’t tell me that you have fallen for her?” His grin spreads even wider.

“While that’s fine and all, I’m not sure how the rest of the Servants will take this, especially Meltlilith.”

“W-w-what are you talking about Gil?! I was just worried about her! Plus, we’ve known each other ever since Orleans! Right, Jeanne?!” Shǒu stammers defensively, his face a bit red.

“Hmmm. Is this correct, Maid? I admit I was yet unsummoned when Shǒu went through Orleans, so I have no knowledge about your history.”

Gilgamesh is speaking the truth, but he already sees through Shǒu. He’s keeping up the pretense for his own amusement.

“Oh! Yes, indeed. Master-san was instrumental in helping me save Orleans back then. It was back when both of us were still novices. This is why I am happy that we’ve both grown since.” Jeanne smiles genuinely as she says this.

“Well, I can see why he has fallen for the Maid. I suppose he has commendable taste, at the very least.” Gilgamesh thinks to himself.

To further avoid the awkward situation, Shǒu immediately grabs Jeanne’s hand, and leads her out the door to avoid the awkward atmosphere.

“A-anyway! Let’s go, Jeanne. I have to give you the grand tour and introduce to the other Servants!”

“Of course. By the way, what was this about a “Shǒu”, Master-san?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you on the way.”

“Hee hee, of course.”

Gilgamesh follows them out the door.

He notices that both of them are still holding hands.

Gilgamesh feels somewhat happy, seeing his Master finally acknowledge his own happiness for once.

“But of course, this happiness should be shared to the others. How rude of me to withhold such good news!” He says with a chuckle.

Within minutes, the news had spread among Chaldea’s Servants that Shǒu had finally chosen a woman, and it was the newly summoned Jeanne D’Arc.