#justice for my man francis he really went through it

[sixty-silver-wishes]

ok so like. in janowitz and meyer's original concepts for "caligari," they were going to have francis struggle with subconscious feelings of satisfaction at alan's death because he saw him as a competitor for jane's affection, right. and they scrapped that idea but IMAGINE THE IMPLICATIONS for the funeral scene. and I was talking about this with @trigonalidae but I gotta go Off because I'm going like. feral about it rn

there's no longer any competition. francis meets jane, who is accompanied by her father, at a ceremony in a location with religious connotations (see the crosses on the graves). she's standing beside him, wearing a veil. there are bells and flowers and crying. they must rely on each other now. if you ignore the fact that his best friend is dead, and her veil is black, and they're surrounded by gravestones instead of joyful guests, it's almost like a wedding. it's a horrible perversion of a wedding, but if you don't pay close attention to the differences, isn't this exactly what he wanted?

and then, to add insult to injury, there's what happens afterwards. the couple is supposed to spend their wedding night together and consummate the marriage. but instead, the "bride" is violently stolen away by another man, and is later furious with the "groom" when he doesn't believe her account of it. and as much as he wants to convince himself otherwise, she was never his bride, and he was never her groom. the likely "best man" is dead, or maybe never even existed in the first place.

[disneyanddisneyships]

@gyubby99 okay I'd like to apologize in advance.

"Oh my dear I cannot wait to see you perform again!" Alastor exclaimed as he and Aponi walked around the room, trying to get ready.

"Yeah? Id be prepared. It's a long song. Might bore you to death," Aponi teased.

"Oh my dear, on the contrary! Your voice is the highlight of my death!" He stated. "What did you say the song was from?" He asked.

"A musical. One of my favorites. It's about British history. Very interesting. I'll make you watch it one day," Aponi stated as she got her hoop earrings in and adjusted her high ponytail.

"Qh I see. As long as it makes you happy. Do I get a sneak peak at your clothes?" Alastor asked.

"Nope! Now come on I wouldn't wanna be late," Aponi stated before all but dragging the radio demon out of the apartment.

When the two got there, aponi had to immediately get onto the stage, all of her friends were already reciting their lines.

Alastor sat next to Aponi's froend, Carolyn.

"Good luck trying to compete with us! Honey!" One performer stated before all of them struck a pose.

"You're right.... You're right!" Aponi began. "Your lives sounded terrible! And your songs... really helped to convey that!" She insulted.

The crowd laughed.

"I mean Catherine! Almost moving to a nunnery and then not? That almost could've been really hard for you!" She exclaimed.

The woman playing Catherine scowled, trying not to laugh.

"And Anne! Getting your head chopped off! Surely that means you'll win the competi- oh wait. Divorced beheaded died divorced beheaded- oooh... nevermind!" She walked over to another performer.

Alastor smirked.

"And Jane. Dying of natural causes.... WHEN WILL JUSTICE BE SERVED?!" She yelled.

The crowd laughed.

"And surviving," she walked over to one of the performers only to walk away to the next one. "Seriously Anna. All jokes aside, getting rejected by your looks legit sounds really rough," she stated.

"I wouldn't tknow anything about that,"

The crowd laughed again, as did alastor.

"I mean look at me I'm really hot-" she trailed off. "So yeah I can't even begin to think of how I'll compete with you all! Oh wait! Like this!" She stated as the music started and the lights flickered to the beat.

All you wanna do All you wanna do, baby I think we can all agree I'm a ten amongst these threes

She sang before walking round the stage.

All you wanna do All you wanna do, baby And ever since I was a child, I'd make the boys go wild

The crowd laughed as she made a gesture with her gand signaling "crazy".

All you wanna do All you wanna do, baby Take my first music teacher, Henry Mannox I was young it's true but even then I knew The only thing you wanna to do is...

She blew a kiss.

Broad, dark, sexy Mannox Taught me all about dynamics He was 23 And I was 13 going on 30 We'd spend hours strumming the lute Striking the chords and blowing the flute He plucked my strings all the way to G Went from major to minor, C to D

She danced to the beat as she sang, seemingly having fun with the song.

Tell me what you need What you want, you don't need to plead 'Cause I feel the chemistry Like I get you and you get me

Alastor smiled at his girlfriend as she sang. This would always be the highlight of his death.

And maybe this is it He just cares so much, it feels legit We have a connection I think this guy is different

Aponi acted with the lyrics. Actually seeming like a high school girl in love with the wrong man.

Mabe that's because that was her story.

'Cause all you wanna do All you wanna do, baby Is touch me, love me, can't get enough, see All you wanna do All you wanna do, baby Is please me, squeeze me, birds and the bees me Run your fingers through my hair Tell me, I'm the fairest of the fair Playtime's over The only thing you wanna do is...

She blew a kiss again, smiling.

But then there was another guy Francis Dereham

She moved to the beat before holding the microphone up again.

Serious, stern and slow Gets what he wants, and he won't take no Passion in all that he touches The sexy secretary to the Dowager Duchess

Alastor couldn't help but be a bit jealous at the choice of words. He's never seen her be so open about sexual acts.

Helped him in his office, had a duty to fulfil He even let me use his favourite quill Spilled ink all over the parchment, my wrist was so tired Still I came back the next day as he required

Alastor choked on air as he understood the lyrics.

This was not a normal song that Aponi would sing... was it?

You say I'm what you need All you want, you don't need to plead 'Cause I feel the chemistry Like I get you and you get me

Aponi sang once again with that schoolgirl innocence. Alastor had no idea how she acted it out so well.

And I know this is it He just cares so much, this one's legit We have a real connection I'm sure this time is different

Then he remembered.

It's not acting. It's reminiscing.

'Cause all you wanna do All you wanna do, baby Is touch me, love me, can't get enough see All you wanna do All you wanna do, baby Is please me, squeeze me, birds and the bees me You can't wait a second more to get My corset on the floor Playtime's over The only thing you wanna do is...

Another kis was blown before aponi cleared her throat and took a small sip of water.

Yeah, that didn't work out

She stated, a tint of humor and sadness in her voice as the crowd laughed.

So I decided to have a break from boys And you'll never guess who I met

The music went again.

Tall, large, Henry the Eighth Supreme head of the Church of England

Silence.

Then laughter.

And then she sang again.

Globally revered Although you wouldn't know it from the look of that beard Made me a lady in waiting Hurled me and my family up in the world Gave me duties in court and he swears it's true That without me, he doesn't know what he'd do

Aponi smiled a bit sadly.

You say I'm what you need All you want, we both agree This is the place for me I'm finally where I'm meant to be

Aponi acted content.

As if she really lived Katherine Howard's life.

Then he starts saying all this stuff He cares so much, he calls me love

Her voice cracked.

Alastor heard it.

She really wasn't acting was she??

He says we have this connection I guess it's not so different

She belted the last note, a small frown forming on her face before a smile took over.

'Cause all you wanna do All you wanna do, baby Is touch me, love me, can't get enough, see All you wanna do All you wanna do, baby Is seize me, squeeze me, birds and the bees me There's no time for when or how 'cause you Just got to have me now Playtime's over The only thing you wanna do is...

She blew yet another kiss.

Then silence, aside from the music.

So we got married Woo

The crowd laughed. Alastor didn't. He had seen the promise rings.

Hell, he had helped sell them.

With Henry, it isn't easy His temper's short, and his mates are sleazy

Now this..... this was from the heart. those two lines right there.

Except for this one courtier He's a really nice guy, just so sincere The royal life isn't what I planned But Thomas is there to lend a helping hand So sweet, makes sure that I'm okay And we hang out loads when the King's away

Aponi gave a weak smile at the memories clearly flooding her mind.

All alastor wanted to do was remove her from the environment.

But he was also entertained. Was she acting? Or were her emotions real?

This guy finally Is what I want, the friend I need Just friends, no chemistry I get him and he gets me

Her facial expressions couldn't have simply been actingm alastor was sure of it.

Andbyet.. she kept on with the song.

And there's nothing more to it He just cares so much, he's devoted He says we have a connection

The sadness on her face spoke more words than she could ever sing.

Her emotions were real.

I thought this time was different

She sang quietly...

Why did I think he'd be different?

She sang louder....

But it's never, ever different

Her voice cracked. Alastor could practically see the tears in her eyes.

'Cause all you wanna do All you wanna do, baby Is touch me, when will enough be enough? See

All the dancers around her put hands on her, signifying the hands that would've been on her in real life.

She shook uncomfortably as she sang.

All you wanna do All you wanna do, baby Squeeze me, don't care if you don't please me

Her voice cracked again and alastor almost broke. he could feel her raw pain. He had felt it more than once in person.

The audience felt it as well.

There were no more laughs. No more claps. The audience was silent and maybe a bit uncomfortable at the raw pain being sung on stage.

Bite my lip and pull my hair As you tell me, I'm the fairest of the fair Playtime's over Playtime's over Playtime's over

As she belted the last not tears spilled from her eyes in a sea of sadness.

The only thing The only thing The only thing you wanna do is...

She blew another kiss but this time she gasped as if gasping for air.

The lights went out.

The audience hesitated before clapoing, confused on if that was real, or just amazing acting from their friend.

An hour or so later Aponi and Alastor walked back to the hotel together.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Alastor asked.

"Yes... just tired," a quiet aponi stated.

Silence.

When the two got back to the hotel Aponi went right up to her room.

Alastor stayed downstairs thinking about what to do.

[adrianodiprato]

+ “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” 1 Peter 5:5

My 2022 Christmas Message: Humility

At his General Audience, on the birth of Jesus, on December 21, 2021 Pope Francis stated:

“Humility alone opens us up to the experience of truth, of authentic joy, of knowing what matters.”

Humility is so important in our world today. A world often fixated on and afflicted by binary thinking. A world that is quick to cancel you if you don’t fit a prevailing narrative of the righteous and those filled with much self-importance. 

Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call ‘humble’ nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.

If anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the first step. The first step is to realise that one is proud. And a biggish step, too. At least, nothing whatever can be done before it. If you think you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed. C.S.Lewis | Mere Christianity

Humility is not always acknowledged as a relevant trait to possess. We far too often view humility as a weakness. It is in fact a remarkable character strength. Pride goes before destruction (Proverbs 16:18) while humility goes to the one who overcomes the destruction and the destroyer (John 1:5). Humility makes room for the gift of grace and our inherent worth through acknowledging the possibility of the other.

Humility helps one extend more compassion and empathy to others. Those who practice humility are more likely to consider others’ beliefs and opinions. This is most likely because humility offers the opportunity to become less self-involved and more attuned with the feelings and humanity of the other. Humility allows us to be open to self, place and a deep consciousness of the value of the other.

Pride is the appreciation of yourself and your beliefs, it is having confidence and assurance that you are an important and making a relevant contribution to this world. These are valued character attributes.

However, if pride becomes extreme, with extremeness revealing itself when humility is absent, a person may start exhibiting selfish, self-righteous or dare I say it, narcissistic behaviors. That behaviour can manifest hate and colour one’s ability to maintain perspective and the principles of nature justice.

“When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with the humble is wisdom.” Proverbs 11:2

As illustrated by C.S. Lewis, the truly humble person “will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.” And the only way to begin to grasp this is by admitting first that you think of yourself more highly than you ought, a kind of self-righteous pride for “if you think you are not conceited, you are very conceited indeed.” 

Humility is a grace that attracts more grace. Pride closes the door to spiritual growth, but humility opens the door of your life to more of God's grace. This gift of grace we receive through the simplicity and humanity of the Christmas story.

“The message of the Gospels is clear: the birth of Jesus is a universal event that concerns all of humanity,” the Holy Father said at his general audience in 2021. 

“At the same time, specifically because it leads us to Him, humility leads us also to the essentials of life, to its truest meaning, to the most trustworthy reason for why life is truly worth living.”

Then Pope Francis went on to explain the role of humility, recalling the many signs of humility leading to the birth of Christ. An angel announced the birth to lowly shepherds. Mary and Joseph could find no comfortable place to stay (Luke 2:1-7).

These types of signs of humility are examples of ways that it humbles us, reminding us all of our smallness while celebrating the hope, our hope and the hope of the other, born from the promise that is the birth of Christ.

“The reason is that the person who is not humble has no horizon in front of him or her. They only have a mirror in which to look at themselves. Let us ask the Lord to break this mirror so we can look beyond, to the horizon, where He is. But He needs to do this: grant us the grace and the joy of humility to take this path.” Pope Francis

This Christmas may the birth of Christ inspire this dream in each one of us. One of an enduring optimism for a universal and fraternal love, compassion, and humility of self, with place, through the beautiful possibility of looking beyond, to the horizon of hope, born from the gift of the other.

Thank you for sharing the gift of your humility with the world in 2022. Buon Natale. Frohe Weihnachten. Feliz Navidad. Joyeux noël. Shèngdàn jié kuàilè. Merry Christmas.

Original photo: Walking the Stations of Cross via the Via Dolorosa, Jerusalem on Good Friday | 2013

Reference

Kellenberger, J. (2010). “Humility”, American Philosophical Quarterly. Vol 47, (4): 321-336.

[utilitycaster]

Wizard breakdown tracker week 2: episode 132

Welcome again to the post in which I assess how close the various wizard NPCs of Exandria are to Losing It, an exercise in reminding me that though things may seem dark now, one day Trent Ikithon will be brought to justice, which is the fun euphemism I have for “zero hit points and also on fire”.

I suspect we’re really only going to see Essek for a while such that this may eventually become a space for real thoughts on Essek, wildly speculative thoughts on the volstrucker wizards, Allura/Kima domestic fluff, and elaborate jokes about Eadwulf’s name and Yussa’s predicament, but I am committed.

As a reminder: Caleb Widogast is not eligible due to being a PC. Wizard NPCs for whom I have no updates, whether it’s because they have not appeared recently or simply because I don’t find them interesting enough; my deepest apologies to the Oremid Hass stans.

Someone in my notes from last week’s post asked where Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk was. The answer is that he is in a gem. Hope this helps.

Archmage of Antiquities Lady Vess DeRogna is still dead.

Ludinus Da’leth: with Yussa (hopefully temporarily) out of the running he’s suddenly feeling more confident in his chances at winning Wildemount’s Least Fucks Given competition but doesn’t know why, and with Jester in the north a sudden sense of peace has come upon him.

Conclusion: 0/10. He’s taking a nap in his tower in a sunbeam like an evil cat as we speak.

Trent Ikithon: It’s only been a day or so since Caleb delivered what is truly probably the sickest burn he’s ever experienced; this man probably doesn’t care about 99% of what people say to him but Caleb saying he’s not the biggest thing on his mind? That’s gonna hit. Also presumably the trail went cold after Nicodranas, in more ways than one.

Conclusion: 5/10 and simmering; by the time the Nein return to civilization he should be about ready to explode.

Essek Thelyss: While it’s only been a few hours honestly I think he’s already doing better. He’s in a weird freezing ruin and there was a fight with another one coming, but he’s being useful! He’s been given trust and friends! He got to show off a lot of very cool spellcasting! Also have you ever been super anxious and your friends, rather than trying to talk through anything, are just incredibly fucking weird to the point where it takes your mind off things because what is happening even? That’s the mood. Oh and also, he may still be worried about the Assembly bearing down on him but I have to imagine Yasha’s display of swordcraft is helping.

Conclusion: 7/10. To paraphrase Caduceus there’s a certain baseline of happiness when you’re in a freezing ruin full of brown mold, but the distraction is welcome.

Astrid Beck: It’s tough that she’s offscreen because like, her mental state is going to be governed heavily by Trent’s but specifically if he seems on to her. Also while my bets are against the volstrucker trying to teleport into the ruins of Aeor she’s probably going to be in a worse state if she might have to face Caleb again.

Conclusion: holding at 8/10 until further notice.

*Black Francis voice* I believe in Mr. Eadwulf Grieve: *sits backwards on chair* Look, son/daughter/child, we all at some point in our lives project a lot of things on to a mysterious but intriguing NPC. Your Verins; your Urayas; your Vandrans. Mine? Well, mine is a wizard whose name we don’t entirely know how to spell and who we mostly know is strong and likes the Raven Queen and was not exactly the third wheel we long believed him to be. Anyway, I like to imagine Eadwulf as a calming presence, with Astrid the more-high-strung leader, albeit calming presence because he immediately gets drunk after stressful situations.

Conclusion: I’m going to say 4/10. I think he’s one of those people who’s like, super smart but also when the problem is not directly in front of him he’s like well nothing to be done now.

Pumat Sol: Much as I love him, no updates for now and he will probably be moved to the “not recently seen” group. I hope a heavily disguised Yeza has stopped by though for more top toys after one of the mobsters got really into it.

Conclusion: 1/10, respectfully.

Allura Vyesoren: She is assuming at this point no news is good news, which will change after a few days, but also Lady Kima keeps busting in with a sword the size of herself yelling “I JUDGE THEE, MAGICIAN”

Conclusion: holding at 3/10.

Yussa Errenis: WE BUILT THIS CITY! WE BUILT THIS CITY ON WIZARD’S SOULS!

Congrats on the gender, sorry about...you know.

Conclusion: to ℵ-null and ℵ-null and beyond/10. In related news I am submitting a bug reports to both Tumblr and Google Docs for not accounting for the outlier formatting case of Cardinality Georg.

[spencestyles]

The Wrong Girl

summary: the one where y/n is accused of murder and taken to the FBI. Spencer is the only one to realize y/n doesn’t fit the profile at all and helps get her out.

pairing: Spencer x nonBAU!reader

warnings: anxiety, history of child abuse (mentioned), swearing (maybe)

words: 1048

*not my gif*

~~~~~~~~~~

"y/n y/l/n, FBI open up," you heard banging from outside her apartment door.

      "We're coming in," the man screamed. You stood up. Why in the hell was the FBI coming into your apartment? You ran to the door to make this as peaceful as possible, but your exchange was nothing but peaceful. 

      "y/n y/l/n you are under arrest for the murders of Elizabeth Smith, Jane Austen, and Francis Williams," a strong, dark man said in your ear while putting her into handcuffs. You were thrown inside a police car. That's when she realized everything wrong with this.

      You were dragged inside the police station receiving many concerning looks. You then realized how you looked, last night's makeup on, skimpy pajama shorts, a tight cropped tank top, and ugg slippers from the early 2000s. In short, you looked a mess. You knew what was going to happen, being familiar with the criminal justice system, you were going to be interrogated until they forced a fake confession out of you or realized they were wrong. They would eventually use your appearance against you, but they also need to look into your life. Then, they would instantly realize they had the wrong person. You graduated from the top of your class at Michigan and had a fellowship at a hospital in dc. Everyone was giving you disapproving looks as you walked into the interrogation room with tears down her eyes and minimal clothing on. 

      "I'm SSA Derek Morgan, where were you the night of October eighth?" Derek Morgan, the man that dragged you from your apartment after you attempted to peacefully solve a problem.

      "I was at a friend's house, I had just finished a long shift at work and wanted to relax with wine and watch The Bachelorette," you explained calmly. However, Derek did not believe a word you said. This case was hitting Derek personally, he knew one of the females who were murdered. He wasn't going to let anyone just get away with their crimes.

      "Don't lie to me, I know you killed them," he growled. "You hit them in the head with a bat then stabbed them until they bled out." You were frightened, crying, trembling. How could anyone accuse you of that? Your anxiety levels were through the roof, yet Spencer was the only one to notice from outside the interrogation room. 

      Spencer was worried for the safety of you as Derek was being anything but calm, so he called Garcia, "Hey Garcia, are you sure this is the right person, she does not seem to fit the character of our unsub?"

      He heard a small gasp over the phone, "Oh no, Spence you're right. y/n y/l/n, top of her class at Michigan and at medical school, she now has a fellowship at the hospital near your apartment. Also, she has extreme anxiety and has a childhood history of abuse. She's not our unsub."

      "Shit," Spencer said, thinking of a plan to remove Morgan from the situation he unfortunately put himself into. 

      "Crap, is my chocolate thunder interrogating her?" Penelope asked. The sigh that left Spencer's mouth was all she needed to know before hanging up. Spencer looked into the interrogation room and saw you, so helpless, tremble with fear as Derek continuously yelled in your face and pounded the table with his fists. Reid immediately ran into the room.

      "Derek stop," Spencer said, but Derek didn't listen. "Derek, stop she is not the unsub. Garcia got the wrong person, she has not fit the profile since she walked into the station." Derek backed away from you with a look of guilt on his face. Derek quickly left the room as Spencer made his way over to you, whilst you were shaking with fear. 

      "Hi," Spencer said as he awkwardly walked up to you. "My name is Doctor Spencer Reid. I'm 28, just like you and I know from seeing your apartment that you like to read." You looked at Spencer with a strange expression on your face. How does he know what my apartment looks like? "I'm not a stalker, I just have an eidetic memory so it wasn't hard to remember what your apartment looked like." 

      "Yeah I like to read," you said quietly. "It helps me get away from reality. I double majored and English literature was one of them. Before I went to Med School, obviously" Spencer smiled, finally seeing someone with the same passion for books as him.

      "Well I looked at your information and it seems as if you are pretty smart," Spencer said attempting to calm you down. "I actually have an IQ of 187."

      "Nice I have 182," you said smiling. "I'm studying to be a doctor and I've never met someone with a higher IQ than me." Spencer was in a trance by the beautiful girl in front of him. 

      "Here, let me take you back to your apartment," Spencer said. "And don't say no, we live in the same apartment building so it would be stupid of me to not take you back." You giggled, surprised you never met the man before. "Here is a jacket, you're not wearing much." 

      "Sorry it's not that easy to get more clothes on when the FBI is pounding on your door," you said sarcastically, causing Spencer to laugh. Spencer took you to his car and drove you to your apartment building. You and Spencer walked up to your apartment talking about your shared interests in reading, teaching, learning, and eating takeout. 

      "Thank you for taking me home Spence," you said with a smile on her face. "I really appreciate it." And with that you walked into your apartment. Spencer contemplated what he should do, should he walk to his car or knock on the door to get your number. 

      Less than a minute after settling into your apartment, you heard a knock on her door, "Hel- oh hi Spencer!"

      "Give me your phone," Spencer demanded. 

      "What?"

      "I'm trying to give you my number y/n, please give me your phone." you looked at Spencer looking for signs that he was joking. But he wasn't. You immediately gave Spencer your phone and Spencer quickly typed his number in.

      "Call me," Spencer said, smirking.

       You were definitely going to call him later. 

[n1kolaiz]

THE GREAT FITZGERALD

thank u @dazaistabletop for getting me so interested in Fitzgerald's character. ur my favourite Fitz kinnie ok mwah( ˘ ³˘)♥

Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald's novel— The Great Gatsby— was a love story that involved Jay Gatsby, whose mannerisms and characteristics appear to be quite similar to Fitzgerald in the Bungou Stray Dogs adaptation. I just finished reading The Great Gatsby so I thought I'd just make a comparison between the main protagonist of the novel and the main antagonist in BSD's Guild Arc.

Other than the fact that both Jay and Fitzgerald share similar character traits (ambitious, arrogant, and optimistic) the relationships Jay had with the other characters of the novel and the interactions that Fitzgerald had with the other characters of BSD are quite similar, too. I'll focus on three specific associations that both Fitzgerald and Jay experienced in a parallel manner:

Zelda Fitzgerald and Daisy Buchanan

Tom Buchanan

Louisa May Alcott and Nick Carraway

SPOILERS FOR THE GREAT GATSBY!

in case anyone hasn't read it but wants to :)

To avoid confusion, every time I mention Fitzgerald from here on out, I mean the character from BSD; I will specify my references if it comes to the author.

The Great Gatsby had its plot set around the time of the Roaring Twenties: the aftermath of World War I, the peak of socialite culture, and the growth of a prosperous economy and general wealth altogether.

The Roaring Twenties was also a time of luxurious pleasure and liquor, where people indulged themselves and got addicted to hedonism— the pursuit of gratification.

The Great Gatsby was actually written on the basis to prove how corrupt this age was, and the existence of such corruption was vaguely hinted by various factors, one of which included Jay Gatsby's actual source of income: being involved in the affairs of the black market. This proves that illegal activities were not uncommon around that time, as people did anything they could to achieve materialistic gains.

This isn't a history lesson, I promise.

Both Jay Gatsby and Fitzgerald had grown up in poverty and disliked the concept of being anything short of wealthy. They both worked extremely hard to attain financial abundance.

I presume that not everything they did was actually legal when it came to gaining money. As mentioned before, Jay was involved in criminal activities which founded the basis of his wealth, while Fitz once mentioned that in order to own a gun, he had to kill 4 people. He goes on to tell us that he ended up owning that specific gun's manufacturer eventually.

Daisy Buchanan and Zelda Fitzgerald.

The Great Gatsby is actually centered around Jay Gatsby's rather obsessive infatuation with Daisy.

Daisy was a beautiful lady with a incredibly charming nature— she didn't have much trouble with attracting many men back then before she got married to Tom Buchanan, the antagonist of the story and the rival of Jay Gatsby.

"Her voice was full of money," he said suddenly.

That was it. I'd never understood before. It was full of money— that was the inexhaustible chair that rose and fell in it, the jingle of it. the cymbals' song of it... High in a white palace the King's daughter, the golden girl...

Daisy and Jay Gatsby fell in love right before he was sent off to war and a few years before she met Tom. Before they were separated, Jay's dream of gaining wealth and status was primarily flamed by his intention of reaching Daisy's social ranking in order to be worthy of her love.

Initially, because of how passionate he was about his love for her, Jay lied to Daisy about his wealth. It was only after the War did he actually gain the riches he aimed for. By the time he did achieve his monetary goals, Daisy had married Tom already. Consequently, Jay hosted a bunch of lavish parties in order to gain her attention, prove himself and his love for her, and ultimately, win her back.

Jay perceived Daisy as a literal angel, void of any flaw whatsoever. He even tells Nick, the main character, that the fact that numerous men got romantically involved with such a lady just increased her value altogether.

But what gave it an air of breathless intensity was that Daisy lived there— it was as casual a thing to her as his tent out at camp was to him. There was a ripe mystery about it, a hint of bedrooms, of gay and radiant activities taking place through its corridors, and of romances that were not musty and laid away already in lavender but fresh and breathing and redolent of this year's shining motor cars and of dances whose flowers were scarcely withered. It excited him too that many men had already loved Daisy— it increased her value in his eyes. He felt their presence all about the house, pervading the air with the shades and echoes of still vibrant emotions.

As the story unfolded, Daisy's character was torn apart for a proper, more brutally realistic perspective of her true character, revealing a shallow, selfish lady who solely placed her interest in money and luxury, the things which she often took refuge in when things went wrong. As the plot developed itself, the actuality that Jay fell in love with the idea of Daisy, instead of Daisy herself, was much more evident. And it took quite some time for him to discover and acknowledge the truth.

Fitzgerald's love for Zelda was very apparent, too, except that it seemed more genuine and pragmatic. Not much is speculated about Fitz and Zelda's relationship in the Guild Arc, but his love for her was very deep, as everything he did was for her and their deceased daughter.

Side note: Fitzgerald (the author) based Daisy's character partially on Zelda, as both women were brought up in wealthy families and took a general liking to lifestyles revolving around money and ease.

Fitzgerald was in love with Zelda, a woman plagued by a debilitating illness. In The Great Gatsby, Jay was in love with a woman who was plagued by the deceptive addiction of self-satisfaction gained by pleasure and whatnot. Zelda was impaired by an mental illness, while Daisy was intoxicated by the security of money and prestige. This is an abstract suggestion though. Personally, that's how I interpreted this correlation when it came to examining these dynamics in their respective universes.

Tom Buchanan

As mentioned before, Thomas Buchanan was Daisy's husband and Jay's rival who had similar characteristics in matters of personality. The Toms in both book and anime were arrogant and cunning, which pretty much vouches for their selfishness.

In the book, Tom is supposedly the love of Daisy's life, except that she just married him for his money instead of waiting for Gatsby. Then again, Tom was involved in a love affair outside his marriage with a lady named Myrtle Wilson. Tom cheated on Daisy by getting involved with Myrtle. On the other hand, Daisy was unfaithful to Tom by keeping her love and relationship with Jay a secret from him.

The climax of the story partly revolves around Myrtle dying in a hit-and-run car accident. The grand twist was that Daisy was the one driving the car, and the car actually belonged to Gatsby. Because the car belonged to Gatsby, George Wilson, the husband of Myrtle, was bent on revenge and tracked down the car. He ended up killing Jay Gatsby, and soon after that, he killed himself.

It was quite a scandal, but Daisy estranged herself from such a tedious matter. In fact, when Jay died, she did not even attend his funeral. Tom was under the impression that Gatsby was the one who killed his mistress, not Daisy, his wife. Either ways, Nick described them in a way that sums up what became of them after Jay's death:

They were careless people, Tom and Daisy— they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made...

It's interesting to note that in chapter 45 of the BSD manga, Tom appears as the antagonist who was later found guilty of murdering his employee, but the blame was originally put on T.J Eckleburg, the inventor of the Eyes of God.

Side note: T.J. Eckleburg was actually an optician who appeared on a billboard advertisement in the novel. This billboard was used as a personification by Nick Carraway, which was meant to embody the representation of a displeased overseer who observed the events that unfolded before him. The Eyes of God has a similar concept: scrutinising everything with an accuracy of 97%. It's a personal speculation, but the Eyes of God was proven to be of utmost importance in the Cannibalism Arc when it came to capturing Fyodor Dostoevsky. Likewise, T.J. Eckleburg's eyes showed how corruption and misconduct never escaped his judgmental visage.

sorry about the quality of the manga panels ;-;

In the manga, Fitzgerald manages to triumph over Tom by betraying his trust altogether in order to obtain the ownership of the Eyes of God and Tom's company. This stands in contrast to what became of Jay in the novel, but the protagonist got what he wanted in this universe.

Keep in mind that Fitzgerald didn't act according to fulfil what justice required; it was purely business. Just like Jay Gatsby put on the facade of a plain, rich man who was really just bootlegging his way to opulence, Fitzgerald wasn't afraid to betray someone's trust to get what he wanted.

Nick Carraway and Louisa May Alcott

If I were to pick a character that represented Louisa May Alcott in BSD from the book, I'd pick the narrator himself: Nick Carraway. Again, this is my personal interpretation, so the association between these two characters is just my personal opinion.

Nick Carraway was known as the more reserved, cynical protagonist compared to Jay. The both of them developed a cordial friendship as the story progressed.

Nick initially took a liking to Gatsby, who was his neighbour. The enigmatic aura Gatsby emitted called for Nick's attention, and in the same way, Gatsby reciprocated his interest in Nick by making the effort to acquaint himself with him.

He had one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced, or seemed to face, the whole external world for an instant and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself.

There were a few times which suggests that Nick didn't like the way Gatsby acted or spoke. Nevertheless, Nick was the only one who stuck with Gatsby until the end.

"They're a rotten crowd," I shouted across the lawn. "You're worth the whole damn bunch put together.

(This was the last thing Nick said to Jay before he died.)

At first, Nick was intrigued by Jay's mystical nature and peculiar idiosyncrasies, but found that Gatsby was a very strange, but 'morally bad' man. However, over time, Nick became one of the few who managed to recognise Gatsby's idealistic ambitions; he saw through all the fame and wealth and found a mere human being capable of being entrapped by love's snares. Basically, he understood Gatsby, despite disagreeing with his actions and even his behaviour at times.

As for Louisa, well, it is a known fact that she was loyal to Fitzgerald because of how much she respected and trusted him.

Both Nick and Louisa were intelligent, witty people with generally nice, honest, and reserved dispositions. Their self-contained demeanours make it very easy to get along with the more exurbent/dominant personas of Gatsby and Fitzgerald. So in the event where each pair was isolated from the rest of the world, they had each other to depend on.

Next morning I sent the butler to New York with a letter to Wolfsheim, which asked for information and urged him to come out on the next train. That request seemed superfluous when I wrote it. I was sure he’d start when he saw the newspapers, just as I was sure a there’d be a wire from Daisy before noon – but neither a wire nor Mr. Wolfsheim arrived; no one arrived except more police and photographers and newspaper men. When the butler brought back Wolfsheim’s answer I began to have a feeling of defiance, of scornful solidarity between Gatsby and me against them all.

Such a dynamic created a close bond of trust. Just as Nick was not hesitant to stick by Gatsby's side, Louisa went to great extents just to return Fitzgerald back to his former leading position and work together with him.

Side note: Nick Carraway is suggested to have the INTP personality type, while Louisa is most likely an INFP. Both these personalities are strikingly similar in many ways. They are individualistic in thinking and described as 'seekers' of their place in the world. If you're interested in a more detailed comparison, check this post out

Alright, that's about it for my speculations; I hope they weren't too messy. Thank you so much for reading!

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

- Nick Carraway, The Great Gatsby

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH23

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 23: Star Death Reality Show (VI) {cw: discussion of menstruation}

Mark and He Yi were still here!　　

Lara's conclusion greatly surprised everyone, but what she said was justified. Everyone knew that she wasn’t talking nonsense. Even now they could go outside to check and compare the footprints one by one. But there were always people who didn't want to see Lara show off.

"You said they’re still in the house, but where are they?" Janet shot out. "This house is only so big. If they were still here, they should have heard our voices, but there’s no sign of them. Where are they?"

Lara chewed on her lip and whispered, "I don't know."

Janet smiled contemptuously with a look that seemed to say, "That’s all you are".

"Qi Leren, did you find anything before you left?" Xue Jiahui asked suspiciously.

As the last one to see these two people, Qi Leren was unfortunately surrounded by all the contestants. He shook his head solemnly: "Everything was normal at the time."

"Ah, it would be great if we could ask the audience watching from outside. Compared with us, they should already know the situation clearly." Xue Jiahui, a skeptic, smiled bitterly and showed concern. "Well, let's search Annie's house. This place isn’t big, we should find them quickly with so many people."

Annie, who had been silent, suddenly looked up: "Miss Xue, if you want to search my room, please come up with a search warrant. Or do you want to wantonly violate the legal rights of a citizen?"

Janet, like a shark smelling blood, quickly changed her target: "Why? Do you have something to hide here?"

Dr. Lu tugged at Qi Leren's sleeve, curled his lips at him, and mouthed, Look, a catfight!

At this scene, the four women fought for ten minutes around the topic of whether or not to search the room. Janet always stood on the front line of tearing at and quarreled with Annie, one attacking the other's religious beliefs, and the other arguing with her for civil rights; Lara insisted on searching the house to look for the people, and her position was consistent with Janet's, but Janet choked her back rather than helping her, which made her very helpless; Xue Jiahui was anxious to find the people, though she was willing to make peace. She said a few words but couldn't stand the argument when it rose to personal attacks. She closed his mouth silently and showed an anxious expression.

The men present were helpless, obviously not wanting to get involved. It always looked like a loss when you quarreled with women in front of hundreds of millions of spectators. It was expected that if you didn't win the fight, it meant "you can’t even beat a woman". It didn't taste right, so it was better not to go into this muddy water.

Qi Leren didn't try so hard. His ears had been trained by Chen Baiqi for so long. He was now more patient than before, and has learned to observe more and be less impulsive. At the end of the day, he discovered some secret relationships between the NPCs: aside from the obvious tit-for-tat between Lara and Janet, there was Xue Jiahui's vague love for He Yi, Janet's warming to Alex's attitude, the ambiguity between Lara and Francis, and even Mark's unexpected obedience to Annie. Many details weren’t easy to find if one wasn’t looking, but they were revealed by the NPCs’ words, facial expressions, and even body language.

Finally, Du Yue, the young man with a sense of justice, lost his cool: "Stop arguing! What’s important right now is to find them. What can we do without finding them? Qianbei, let's do it!"

With this said, Annie ignored everyone and went straight to search the house.

Qi Leren sighed. Young people nowadays... were really impulsive, but this wasn’t a good idea either.

Annie paused, just wanting to loudly reprimand them, only to suddenly be choked by the dust thrown up as Du Yue lifted a rug. She immediately covered her nose and mouth, coughed, and ran out of the room awkwardly. Janet couldn't stand it either and fled the dusty room again.

Dr. Lu laughed crookedly and gave Du Yue a thumbs up: "Nice work."

Realizing his mistake, Du Yue touched the back of his head, smiled stupidly, and continued to search.

"Are you looking for a basement?" Francis asked.

"Ah... Well, since they’re one in Jing Siyu’s house, maybe there’s one in Annie's house too?" Du Yue said.

"It makes sense. Let's pull up the rugs and look for one," Francis agreed.

"Would they have gone into a basement?" Alex shrugged. "Don't waste your time. Maybe Lara made a mistake."

After that, he went out of the room to see Janet, who was dusting her body and complaining loudly that she didn't have any clothes to change into. Unless she found some clothes hidden in the village, she would have to endure the mess. Alex talked with her about finding supplies later.

Francis and Qi Leren turned the house upside down, and Lara and Xue Jiahui joined in. After an hour passed, every corner of the house was turned over, including the walls, on the ground, and even under the bed. There were no signs of He Yi and Mark, and there was no indication of a basement or hidden room. They had disappeared from the house into thin air.

While turning over the bed, Qi Leren noticed some fresh blood on the pillow where Mark had been lying, and he estimated that it was from a scrape on Mark's injured forehead.

The only thing that made him feel strange was what Dr. Lu found. He found a bandage and bloody cloth in the trash can. The blood on it had dried up and hardened, but it could be seen that there was also relatively fresh blood on it. When he pointed this out, Annie showed a strange smile: "This is something for temporary emergency use."

"Are you injured?" Qi Leren stared at her and watched her expression.

There was a hint of ridicule on Annie's face, and there was a hint of mischief—like a secret pleasure: "No."

"Then where did this blood come from?" Francis asked.

"From me." Annie's mouth curved higher and she watched them with interest, looking malicious. "The endometrial wall sheds and is excreted through the vaginal canal. Usually we call this menstruation."

Dr. Lu shook his hand and bandages and cloth fell to the ground, the word “stunned” clearly written across his face.

Annie's smile became more and more cheerful: "Please don't litter everywhere, pick it up and throw it into the trash can, thank you."

　　……

　　……

　　……

The search ended in failure, and the group of people who found nothing left Annie's house to discuss what to do next. While they were talkative, this discussion was really useless. Annie refused to participate in the next activity on the grounds of period cramps and went back to her room to rest.

Because of Mark and He Yi's disappearance, this group didn’t act separately, but searched the village together in a circle. Dr. Lu also muttered to Qi Leren. He felt that Annie had a problem, and Qi Leren asked him why.

Dr. Lu's expression was strange. After a long time, he said, "...Because I suddenly remembered that period blood shouldn’t coagulate."

“…………”

"Because there are many active enzymes in period blood, it prevents coagulation, so looking back, that should not be from menstruation."

Qi Leren felt that he had gained new knowledge, and the same was true of Du Yue's expression.

However, this was only Dr. Lu's guess. He himself said that he was talking about healthy menstruation. If the endometrial wall sheds off, there would be blood clots and so on. Qi Leren felt that he didn't want to know so much, but he couldn't control Dr. Lu's chattering mouth.

He hoped the audience wouldn’t misunderstand Dr. Lu because of his "knowledge".

After this was said, the few people continued to look for supplies and really found some that were hidden.

Dr. Lu, the EX luck guy, also found two small bags, one of which was given to the Qi Leren, who put a bottle of water and some compressed food in it just in case. Although the item bar meant that he didn’t lack materials at all, it was difficult for him to explain the origin of these things to the ubiquitous cameras. Du Yue, who wasn’t given one of these bags, honestly carried the heaviest backpack, which contained the three’s personal belongings. He worked hard and was stupid, Dr. Lu whispered in Qi Leren’s ears, and he felt that Du Yue was born with a lack of brain cells.

In the afternoon, several people went to visit Jing Siyu again. She was still unconscious, but her breathing was gentle, her heart was beating was normal, and there was no bump on her head. Generally speaking, there shouldn’t be any serious problem, but to be on the safe side she was left in Jing Sixue's house—although it violated the game’s rules of one person:one house, she didn’t care much under the circumstances.

Looking for someone like this was fruitless. The snow on the ground was trampled dirty, and it was slippery and easy to fall. The group of people simply cleaned up, took snow shovels that were unknowably old to clean up the snow in front of their houses, and made several paths leading to the central church that were convenient for walking.

At 8 o'clock in the evening, Qi Leren turned off the floating micro-camera that followed him and walked to Dr. Lu's house. Du Yue had come earlier than him and affectionately called out "qianbei" as soon as he saw him.

"Are the cameras off?" Qi Leren confirmed again.

"Off, but those fixed cameras outside can't be turned off. They’ll be able to tell that you came to me," Dr. Lu said.

"It doesn't matter, as long as our conversation isn’t recorded. After all, what we say will expose the difference between us and the NPCs," Qi Leren said. "What do you think happened today? Where did He Yi and Mark go? "

"I don't know, I also find it very strange," Du Yue said.

"They turned into butterflies and flew away," Dr. Lu said with a lack of seriousness, giving a small laugh.

"Seriously." Qi Leren stared at Dr. Lu and said, "Let's start from the beginning. By now the story has progressed to the point where the monster in Pandora's Box has escaped. I don't know where it’s hidden, what kind of form it has, and what’s special about it. Speaking of this, let's go to the church later. We’ve been working with the others today, so I haven't found a chance to check the stone in the church."

"It doesn't matter if you don't check it. The task prompt said that it had cracked, indicating that it hatched before we could move freely." Dr. Lu was well aware of the nature of this game, and that it wouldn’t give players the chance to stop the plot from starting.

"Say, with your years of experience in playing games, what kind of monster do you think it is?" Qi Leren asked.

Dr. Lu snorted and proudly said: "There are three possibilities. The first one is that the monster is a type of psychological agent, which will make people become mad, hallucinate, and finally make us kill each other. It’s quite common in Japanese games. The second possibility is that the monsters are physical attack types, and they will eat people. The more they eat, the more they need to eat, and then they’ll eat us up one by one. The third possibility is that this monster is parasitic, similar to the monsters in the Alien series. This routine is that it will constantly look for a host, and we still have to die."

Du Yue's handsome face wrinkled as if he had eaten something bitter and he looked hopefully at Qi Leren: "Qianbei, I don't want to die..."

Qi Leren's heart said: ...It's no use looking at me, I'm only a little better than you.

However, he had to keep a mentor-like expression on his face: "Don't worry, this task only has a C-level difficulty, it won't be too hard."

-----

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[davidmann95]

Got a 2020 Superman State of the Union assessment?

Not the most overtly monumental of years for big blue - a lot of the biggest news for Superman this year was about stuff we’ll see next year, which I’ll get into further below - but on the whole definitely a net positive!

Really, the only things I’d say counted ‘against’ this year were the back half of Rucka and Perkins’ Lois Lane and how badly that went off the rails - which for my money was more than counterbalanced by the conclusion to Fraction and Lieber’s Jimmy Olsen - and Romita Jr. turning in shoddy work on Action Comics. Otherwise? Bendis played out the consequences of Truth in fun ways and closed out his tenure on the main titles with a pair of artful final issues, we got Waid’s return to the character alongside Francis Manapul for a great short story, the last issue of the instantly iconic Superman Smashes The Klan, and several excellent installments in DC’s digital Man of Tomorrow series, while Commanders in Crisis introduced the Superman analogue to beat for the 2020s in Prizefighter. And in mass-media Routh’s Superman got a nice fly-by sendoff at the end of Crisis on Infinite Earths, there were two animated features in Red Son and Man of Tomorrow (the former of which I haven’t seen but the latter of which is probably the best official Superman movie, even if that says more about other Superman movies than anything else), and we naaaaarowly avoided the Superman logo being codified as fascist iconography for a generation. Oh and the comics industry did not in fact end due to Covid. So all-in-all a win.

Anonymous said: It’s almost New Year’s, what’s your predictions for Superman in 2021? (I guess you can do Batman too if you want)

So here’s what we do know officially for Superman in 2021:

* Superman & Lois will debut on the CW, the first Superman TV show (without substantial qualifiers) in 20+ years.

* Future State will feature Jon Kent taking on the mantle in Superman of Metropolis, Justice League, and Superman/Wonder Woman, while a now spacefaring Clark is in Worlds of War, Imperious Lex, Batman/Superman, and House of El. Meanwhile Kara graduates from Supergirl to Superwoman in her own two-parter as well as featuring in Superman of Metropolis, and Conner Kent appears to be acting as some kind of Superman in Suicide Squad.

* Phillip Kennedy Johnson takes over Action Comics and Superman in March, beginning with a two-part crossover The Golden Age illustrated by Phil Hester. After that Action Comics will be drawn by Daniel Sampere through around September, at which point Mikel Janin will be illustrating an event-scale arc for the book. Meanwhile Scott Godlewski will be the artist on Superman, but around the time of Janin’s arc on Action an entirely new, as yet unknown creative team will take over Superman while PKJ remains on Action. Both books will also have backup features spotlighting various Superman/Metropolis-adjacent characters as there’s little space for them in the cosmic direction the main story will be tilting towards for the time being.

* Superman: Red & Blue will debut in March as a counterpart to the various Batman: Black & White series over the years.

* Outside the main Superman books, Clark will star in Brian Bendis and David Marquez’s Justice League, as well as Gene Yang and Ivan Reis’s incredibly rad-looking dimension-hopping new take on Batman/Superman. Bendis is indicating we’ll be seeing the long-delayed Event Leviathan: Checkmate this year as well, which features Lois as one of the main characters.

* Not strictly Superman news, but apparently we’ll be seeing Netflix’s adaptation of Mark Millar and Frank Quitely’s Jupiter’s Legacy next year, which centers around the multi-generational drama of the family of Superman analogue Utopian.

* Zack Snyder’s Justice League, its hour come round at last, slouches towards HBO Max to be born.

As for predictions? Well for starters, pretty much everyone takes as a given that Mark Waid is putting together some long-form Superman project now that he’s working with DC again, and I expect to see something come of that next year; Tom King has also soft-announced he’s working on a Superman project since he’s done with scripting his three current DC minis, but I wouldn’t be surprised if nothing directly came of that until 2022. I’d also speculate that Scott Snyder has something in mind: he’s repeatedly said he’s planning on a major out-of-continuity project, and he’s made clear he’s done with Batman for the time being, I imagine he’s done whatever he wanted to for Wonder Woman with Death Metal, and anything he did with the JSA right now would be extremely in-continuity; I doubt he’s playing with anything less than the icons anytime soon and he definitely seems more engaged with Superman now than he was when he wrote Unchained (hell, the end of Last Knight on Earth can basically only be read as ‘I wanna write Superman now’). Again though, dunno that I’d put money on that being next year. 

Outside the theoretical prestige stuff, everything we’re hearing about Future State, Infinite Frontier, and PKJ’s barely-veiled discussion of his run seems to suggest Jon will end up sharing the Superman name in the present and probably taking over that book alongside the new creative team. If Batman: Urban Legends takes off then I wouldn’t be surprised if we got a Superman anthology given DC’s apparent current priorities of consolidating, testing a new publishing model, and putting the biggest names first. And maybe something will finally come of the back-and-forth over whether or not Cavill’s sticking around in the movies - if he is my first guess would be an appearance in DuVernay and King’s New Gods (which is still in progress per DuVernay as of this month) - but we can all I think be pretty sure he’s still not getting a video game anytime soon.

As for what we know for certain of Batman’s 2021:

* Future State has a whole slate of Batman-related books, but Tim Fox takes over the cape and cowl to fight the police state that’s taken over Gotham in John Ridley and Nick Derington/Laura Braga’s The Next Batman, while a resourceless Bruce on the run stars in Mariko Takaki and Dan Mora’s Dark Detective.

* James Tynion and Jorge Jimenez are solidified as the creative team on the now-monthly Batman, while Tamaki and Mora take Detective Comics, with a Damian backup by Joshua Williamson and Gleb Melnikov running through the first issues of each and apparently leading to something, probably a Robin book. Elsewhere Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo take over Nightwing, Chip Zdarsky and Eddy Barrows spearhead the new anthology title Batman: Urban Legends, and Tynion and Gullem March launch a Joker ongoing, while Bruce also stars in the aforementioned Justice League and Batman/Superman.

* The Gotham Knights game is scheduled to drop next year.

Aside from the Infinite Frontier cover suggesting Tim Fox will take on a role in the present before long as (a) Batman same as Jon Kent as Superman, hopefully with Ridley and Derington coming back, it doesn’t feel like there’s a ton of big Batman stuff to speculate on? Aside from the inevitable unannounced Black Label stuff - including probably Scott Snyder’s Nightwing book - we know the basic shape of things. The Batman is inching closer, Tynion/Jimenez are probably on Batman through at least the end of the year, Mora I don’t think stays on Detective because he’s committed to Once & Future but Tamaki presumably does, Taylor/Redondo Nightwing is immediately going to be a fandom favorite, and Gotham Knights is probably gonna suck because boy that doesn’t look very good. We know the broad strokes of where he’s headed for the time being across all media. If I had to take a whack at a big guess, I’d say I’m a touch skeptical about that HBO GCPD show or the Batmobile cartoon reaching fruition, the former because that’s an incredibly charged premise that has to act perfectly in sync with another mass-media project in another medium AND we know there’s already been behind-the-scenes drama, and the latter because that sounds incredibly stupid.

EDIT: Forgot, Bendis said in 2019 he was working on a Black Label Batman book, so wouldn’t be surprised to see that too this year.

[k-s-morgan]

Hey! So, 1) you know how Will is always making those grand declarations towards Hannibal. How in the world did Jack believe his plan in TWOTL??? I don't understand (but I love it). What do you think was going on in Jack's mind? 2) Also, I was very confused because Hannibal escapes with the police cruiser but Jack only found the scene at night. Did the police not have gps or trackers in 2015? This is a legit question, I was very confused when I watched the show for the first time this year 🙏🏼

Hi! Wow, I’m surprised you watched the show only this year. Your posts are so insightful, I’m completely in love with your Will’s Jealousy meta.

1) I think Jack’s desperate desire to be right became his downfall. He has always been fiercely determined and stubborn, he’s the head of a Behavioral Science Unit, and the possibility of being so terribly wrong about a person he trusted is driving him crazy. It’s very obvious at the end of S1 and the start of S2, where he’s torn apart by the idea of Will being a murderous psychopath.

Jack: My biggest fear is learning you knew what you were doing all along.

Then, to Alana:

Jack: Convince me he didn't know what he was doing. I want to be convinced.

Later:

Jack: Will Graham is either delusional or a psychopath, neither of which I can trust ... This is what I hear: if he is delusional, I made him that way. If he is a psychopath, then everything in my gut is wrong.

The theory of Will being delusional falls apart eventually, and for a while, Jack hopes that the third unvoiced version is real: Will was right all along and he fights for justice. But as some time passes, the option he’s most uncomfortable with raises its ugly head again: Will is a murderer, and he’s not particularly concerned with justice, after all. Jack still hopes, though. Even when the evidence points to Will being untrustworthy, he keeps hoping.

Bedelia: You still believe he's your killer?

Jack: I have to believe.

Interesting to note that Jack decides against going to Hannibal’s house with Will in S2 finale, so he has some rationality left. In S3, after Bella’s death, he loses his anchor. Will practically flaunts his longing for Hannibal in his face, but Jack wants to be right more than ever now. He follows Will to Italy, wanting to bring him home/insisting that he must be the one to kill Hannibal.

Jack: Hannibal will slip away. Will you slip away with him?

Will: A part of me will always want to. 

Jack: You have to cut that part out.

Will: You had him, Jack. He was beaten. Why didn't you kill him?

Jack: Maybe I need you to.

I feel like this last phrase is a direct reflection of Jack’s decisions in TWOTL. Between Dolce and Digestivo, he gets disillusioned again, breaking into Will’s house without his permission, but after 3 years pass and Will becomes a married man, that irrational, crazy hope flares up again. Jack wants to be proven right once and for all about what kind of man Will Graham is. I’d argue that at this point, he wants it more than he wants justice. He needs validation - he needs to know that all the sacrifices he made, all the victims he left behind were worth it, that Will is a good man and that he, Jack, was right to trust him. 

It’s clear that a big part of Jack doesn’t believe Will. He looks skeptical and fake in most of their scenes, but his stubbornness outweighs his rationality. He places his trust in Will in TWOTL one last time, against all common sense - he chooses to take a risk. To give Will one last chance to prove himself and to prove Jack right.

Naturally, Will chooses Hannibal again, so Jack is left with nothing but more bodies and knowledge that his failure has just become even heavier to carry.

2) Here, I think, murder magic is the only answer :D I mean, maybe Hannibal removed the tracker somehow, and since it’s winter, it gets dark quickly, so by the time Jack arrived, the scenery changed. But what I wonder is how in the world Francis found Will and Hannibal later. He didn’t see where they were going. If he could follow them through GPS in his own police car, Jack was supposed to do the same. I can still try to find a logical answer - maybe Francis, in his obsession with Hannibal, knew things about him even the FBI didn’t, do he knew about the cliff house and went there. But it requires a really large suspension of disbelief. 

[alice-beaumont-ravenclaw]

A Wonderful Surprise

A/N #1: This is fic #2 of the Brazil series. It was inpired by the ! prompt of the 30 days OTP alphabet challenge as well as Prompt #2 of Fictober 2020 by @hphm-fictober​ . You can find Alice’s outfit HERE, and the suggested music HERE. (Here are Part 1 & Part 2 of the first fic of the series.)

“Alanza told me she would join us here.”

Alice and her friends were standing near the bronze statue of Floriano Peixoto, the second Brazilian president, in the neighbourhood known as Cinelândia. They were surrounded by buildings built in the Beaux-Arts architectural style, which gave the area a certain European cachet with their columns, symmetry, and highly decorative façades. 

“Are you sure about the time?” asked Diego.

“Noon seems like an odd time to meet up,” said Penny, who was wearing a large sunhat.

“That’s what she told me. She said she knew of this place where we could eat lunch close to here, and that it would be simpler to visit the area after,” explained Alice, fanning herself with her map of Rio.

“Olá!” they heard from behind them.

“Alanza!” they exclaimed, running to her.

“How are you? I hope you didn’t wait too long,” she said beaming.

“No, not at all,” said Barnaby, blushing.

“Long enough for us to overheat,” mumbled Tonks and Tulip.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! Come, come. Let’s go and eat. I know this boteco that’s been around since 1921.”

“What kind of food do they serve?” asked Alice.

“Various stuff. You can get pizza, fish, churrasco, feijoada…”

“What are the last two things?” asked Penny.

“Well, churrasco is basically meat barbecued on skewers, while feijoada has black beans, some pork or beef product, and at least two types of smoked sausage and jerked beef,” explained Alanza.

“Black beans, you say?” said Alice. “Well, as I do not want to spend the afternoon passing wind, and that I don’t want to eat something too heavy, I think I’ll stick to pizza.”

“The meat on skewers sounds great,” said Barnaby as they sat at a table under the yellow awning. 

After a hearty meal, they headed to the Theatro Municipal, a theatre that borrowed from the Parisian Opéra Garnier’s architectural style. The roof was a vibrant shade of turquoise, and the central dome was adorned with a majestic golden eagle.

“Can we go inside?” asked Andre, using his hand to shade his eyes from the sun.

“Unfortunately, no. We can only go in to see a performance or if we are part of a tour, which were all full when I checked,” replied Alanza.

“Too bad. It looks really nice from the outside, would have loved to see the inside,” said Alice.

“Oh, I doubt it compares to the Paris Opera,” said Alanza. 

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been inside the Opéra Garnier.”

“What? But don’t you have family in Paris?” asked Tulip.

“I do, but it’s not like the law mandates us to go inside the Opera every time we’re in town. I walked past it when I’ve been to the Galeries as a kid, but until last summer, I hadn’t been to Paris after Jacob’s disappearance.”

“I wonder if this one has a ghost, like the one in Paris,” said Penny.

“A ghost?” asked Barnaby and Charlie as they started to walk past the theatre.

“A phantom, actually. This French author wrote a story at the beginning of the century about a Phantom haunting the Opéra. It turns out that the Phantom is a deformed man named Erik. An excellent musical was made based on this story. I honestly could listen to the soundtrack over and over again,” said Alice, softly sighing.

“So, where are we heading next?” asked Tonks as they strolled through Largo da Carioca.

“Igreja São Francisco de Penitência. It’s a church. The interior is really impressive,” said Alanza.

“Where is it?” asked Diego.

“Right there,” replied Alanza, pointing to a building up a small hill.

“Doesn’t look super impressive from the outside,” said Andre.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, Andre,” said Alice, nudging her friend on the shoulder.

“Oh, sweetheart, everyone judges books by their cover. Why do you think I put so much importance in my outfits, as well as yours?”

“Believe me, the exterior doesn’t do justice to the interior,” said their Carioca friend as they made their way up the stairs to reach the church.

When they finally made it inside the church, they were greeted by exquisite gilded carvings on the walls and altars, as well as magnificent paintings on the ceiling depicting the glorification of Saint Francis in a Baroque illusionist style.

“Wow,” simply said Andre, his mouth ajar.

“So much gold,” said Tulip.

“Good thing we didn’t bring Jae. He’d be salivating,” said Tonks.

“He’d probably try to take something to sell it,” said Penny as she removed her hat.

“Come on. He’s not that bad,” said Alice as she looked at the ceiling.

“Are you so sure of that?” asked Charlie, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at Alice.

“Well… Ok, maybe not, but he mostly deals in magical contraband, so I don’t think he would see anything here worth selling,” admitted Alice.

“I wouldn’t put it past him to still try and make a quick buck from something here,” whispered Diego.

“Is it common for Muggle churches to be covered in gold?” asked Barnaby.

“Can’t say I’ve ever seen a Catholic church with so much gold. Russian Orthodox churches have their fair share, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this amount of gold in a church,” said Alice, looking around. 

“How do you know so much about churches?” asked Diego.

“I’ve seen some when I travelled with my parents when I was a kid. Even if you aren’t religious, churches can be of cultural interest, as artists were often commissioned to paint and decorate them to show how grand and powerful the Church was,” explained Alice.

“And if you didn’t already know, Alice is in Ravenclaw,” said Tonks, Alice sticking out her tongue at her.

“Hey, where did Charlie go?” asked Andre.

“He’s right…” started saying Alice as she looked beside her, only to see no one was standing there. She turned on herself trying to spot her boyfriend, to no avail.

“Hum, I think he went outside,” said Diego. “He found it stuffy in here.”

“Why didn’t he tell me? I should go with him,” said Alice. 

Before she could turn around, Diego wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her further inside the church. “Come on; I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to miss all the art in here.”

Alice gave Diego a suspicious look, furrowing her brows, before glancing behind her. She figured that if Charlie had wanted her to be with him, he would have told her. She shook Diego’s arms off of her shoulders and joined the girls at the altar, where Tulip was busy imagining Dennis getting married to the love of his life. Once they were done visiting the church, they went back outside, where Charlie was waiting for them in the shade.

“Are you ok?” asked Alice as she ran up to him.

“What do you mean?”

“Diego told us you went out because you felt it was stuffy in the church…”

“Oh! Yeah, I just needed some air, but I’m perfectly fine now.”

“Glad to hear you’re feeling better, mate,” said Andre as they made their way down the stairs.

“Ok, next up is a sweet treat: pastéis de nata. And it will give us the chance to relax a bit and step away from the heat,” said Alanza.

“Hum, actually, you guys can go ahead. We’ll join you later. There’s something I want to show Alice,” said Charlie, taking Alice’s hand.

She looked up at him, her cheeks turning pink.

“Ok, you two have fun!” said Diego as he guided the rest of the group away from the couple.

“We’ll be at the Confeitaria Colombo!” shouted Alanza as Alice and Charlie walked away.

They left the street they were on, taking a narrow road to lead them to the larger Rua Sete de Setembro.

“Where are you taking me?” asked Alice as she let Charlie lead the way.

“You’ll see,” simply replied Charlie.

“Is it what you and Diego were talking about yesterday?” asked Alice.

Charlie stopped in his tracks and looked at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Diego was looking for you yesterday before lunch, and he went straight to talk to you when I told him where you were. Also, you two looked like you were cooking up some plan last night at dinner,” said Alice as they started walking again.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” replied Charlie, avoiding Alice’s gaze.

“Ah! I knew it! You were planning something with Diego!” said Alice as they turned into a small deserted street next to an old theatre. “Seriously, where are you taking me?” she said, looking worriedly around.

They crossed a plaza and stopped in front of a building built in limestone that looked like a church. Four statues were on the façade: one on each side of the building, and the other two were on each side of the door. Before she had time to read what was written at the top of the building, Charlie took both of her hands and made her look at him. 

“Close your eyes,” he said, smiling.

Alice looked at him, skeptically.

“Please,” he pleaded.

She furrowed her brows, smiling lightly as she closed her eyes after removing her sunglasses. He waved a hand in front of her closed eyes to make sure she wasn’t looking. He gently took her hand and guided her inside the building.

“You can open your eyes now,” said Charlie as he stood behind her.

Alice opened her eyes and what she saw rendered her speechless. Three floors of walls covered in books. A magnificent chandelier dangled from the ceiling, which also had a skylight in iron structure. The intricate details of the wooden frame of the library’s galleries were sublime. Alice felt like she was in a dream. Sure, Hogwarts’ library was big, but it was dark, a little gloomy, and unwelcoming; Madam Pince having a lot to do with that last impression. This library was luminous. The blue walls contrasting with the wood’s darkness and the touches of gold on the wood contributed to Alice’s warm feeling as she stood in this great library.

“Oh, Charlie,” whispered Alice, turning around, the skirt of her dress twirling as she did so. 

“You like it?” asked Charlie as Alice wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Like it? I love it!” she said before kissing him on the lips, her straw hat falling backward.

Charlie placed his hands on her waist, closing his eyes as he leaned into the kiss until he realized something. He opened his eyes and cleared his throat.

“What?” asked Alice as she took a step back.

“Hum… there are people around…” whispered Charlie, looking around the room.

Alice turned her head, noticing some people looking at them as her face grew hot.

“Sorry,” she mouthed before looking back at Charlie. “Let’s take a look around,” she whispered as she grabbed her hat from the floor.

They walked around the bookcases on the ground floor, looking at all the old books’ spines. They didn’t dare touch any, as they felt the gaze of the librarian on their back.

“I guess every library comes with a Madam Pince,” whispered Alice.

“I guess kissing in a library won’t get you on the librarian’s good books,” said Charlie, looking behind him. “Anyway, it’s not like we can read anything here. Everything seems to be in Portuguese. We should go back to the others… Alice! What are you doing?”

Alice held a book in her hand while holding her wand over a page with the other. “Shhh, be quiet. It’s just this book had ‘Contos de fadas brasileiros’ written on it.”

“But it’s in Portuguese! And your wand…”

“I need it to use a translation spell Rowan taught me.”

“Taught you? When?”

“Well, she didn’t actually teach it to me in person. I just found it on a note in a book she read,” explained Alice as she read the page her wand was hovering over.

“Quick,” said Charlie, as he looked behind them, “the librarian is coming.”

Alice closed the book and promptly replaced it on the shelf as she surreptitiously slid her wand back into her crossbody handbag. “Obrigada,” said Alice, turning to face the librarian with a sweet smile, her angelic face seemingly calming any worries the librarian had as the couple swiftly left the library.

“That was a close call,” said Charlie once they were outside. “Anyway, what did you say to the librarian?”

“I simply said ‘thank you.’”

“Why?”

“Because it’s polite and one of the few things I can say in Portuguese,” explained Alice as they made their way back to the Rua Sete de Setembro. “Figured something polite, and my sweet face would get her off our backs.”

They leisurely made their way to the Confeitaria Colombo, holding hands and talking about their vacation so far. As they approached it, they saw their friends leaving the restaurant.

“Here are the two lovebirds!” exclaimed Tulip.

“We got some custard tarts to go when we figured you wouldn’t be back in time,” said Penny, holding up a small plastic bag.

“They were delicious!” said Barnaby, rubbing his stomach as he smiled.

“Mate, you have some coloured lip balm on your lips,” pointed out Andre, smirking.

“So I guess Alice liked her surprise,” said Diego, grinning.

Charlie used the back of his hand to wipe off the lip balm as he and Alice blushed.

“Wait, did you two abandon us just to make out somewhere?” asked Tonks.

“What? No! We visited a library!” exclaimed Alice.

“A library? Why would you visit a library instead of eating custard tarts? Are you trying to cover up for the fact that you did spend all that time making out?” asked Tulip, her face inches from Alice’s as she looked at her suspiciously.

“No, they did go to a library: The Real Gabinete Português de Leitura, or Royal Portuguese Reading Room,” explained Diego, making Alanza wince at his Portuguese pronunciation. “The two Argentinian girls I spoke to yesterday said it was a really nice place to see, so I told Charlie he should take Alice there.”

“Wait, when you left the church…” started saying Alanza.

“I went to locate the library, make sure I had the right directions,” completed Charlie.

“Aw, all that for Alice… Makes me sick,” said Tonks, sticking out her tongue in fake disgust.

“Jealous,” said Alice, lightly nudging her friend.

“You wish,” replied Tonks, linking her arm with her friend’s. “Now, come on. We’re supposed to go see a royal palace.”

“Actually, it is the Imperial Palace,” explained Alanza as they made their way down the street. “It became the prince regent of Portugal’s residence when he moved here with his family to escape Napoleon’s invasion of Portugal. It is at that time that Rio became the royal seat of power.”

“Bloody French,” said Tonks, smirking as she glanced at Alice. 

“He wasn’t French, he was Corsican, and his ancestors were Italian,” said Alice.

“But he was the emperor of France, no?”

“For, like, ten years.”

“His army was French?”

“Yes…”

“Therefore, I reiterate what I said: Bloody French,” said Tonks, sticking out her tongue.

“Stop bickering, you two,” said Andre. “As long as I get to see a palace, I’m happy.”

“We are not bickering. We are having a friendly conversation,” said Tonks and Alice in unison, making Alanza raise her eyebrows and look around in confusion.

“Don’t ask. That’s how they are,” explained Penny to Alanza, rolling her eyes.

When they finally arrived at the Imperial Palace, what stood in front of them was a white three-storey building in a simple baroque style with a tiled roof. 

“That’s it?” asked Tulip.

“Well, it has its charms,” said Alice.

“There are some details around the windows,” said Penny.

“It is not what Europeans think of when they hear ‘Imperial Palace,’” pointed out Alanza.

“Thank Merlin, you see it too! I mean, it’s lovely, sure, but it’s no Versaille or Buckingham. Please tell me it’s like that golden church, and the interior is grand,” said Andre with pleading eyes.

“Unfortunately, no. It was stripped at the end of the 19th century and became a central mail office. It mostly serves as a cultural center nowadays, with temporary art exhibitions.”

“Then why is it called the Imperial Palace?” asked Barnaby.

“Because when Brasil became independent, it became the Império do Brasil, or Empire of Brasil,” explained Alanza. “When it was the Portuguese royal family’s residence, it was known as the Royal Palace. Before that, it was the house of the Governor.”

“How come you know so much?” asked Tulip.

“She’s from around here,” said Diego.

“Alice, you live in London. Do you know who first lived in Buckingham Palace?”

“Hum, no?”

“See! I live in London as well, and I don’t know the history of any buildings, except the Tower of London because executions,” pointed out Tulip. 

“Alright, when Alice told me you wanted to visit the historic part of Centro, I may have studied up on my Trouxa history. The map I have with me is full of my notes,” she said, showing the scribbles on her map.

“Trouxa?” asked Barnaby.

“People who can’t do magic.”

“Ah! We call them Muggles,” said Charlie.

“So, as much as standing in the sun learning about cultural differences is fun, what is next?” asked Penny.

“Well, that’s pretty much it. Next up for you is to head back to the hotel to relax, so you are ready for tomorrow’s hike,” said Alanza.

“Hike?!” said Alice and Penny.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any outfits that are intended for nature,” said Andre.

“I was actually planning to go to the National History Museum tomorrow, since it’s free on Sundays,” said Alice.

“Says the rich girl,” said Tonks.

“Rich people are notoriously cheap,” replied Alice.

“But I don’t want to go to a stuffy museum,” complained Tulip.

“We can separate for the day. You guys can go hike in nature, while Penny, Andre, and I go to the museum.”

“Will there be dragons on that hike?” asked Charlie.

“Charlie. Always asking the important questions,” said Diego.

“Hum, no, sorry,” replied Alanza.

“Meh, then I’ll go to the museum with Alice.”

“Are you sure? There won’t be any dragons in the museum either,” said Alice.

“No, but you’ll be there,” replied Charlie, making Alice blush.

“Ok! I think this is our cue to head back to the hotel before those two start snogging in front of the palace,” said Tulip as she ran towards the street to hail two cabs.

“Well, see you tomorrow then! Tchau!” said Alanza waiving to the group as they joined Tulip.

A/N #2: Hope you enjoyed it! Next up: the museum, where I will describe every single exhibit they see... Joking. Anyway, just wanted to let you know something regarding the Imperial Palace. So, in the fic, Alanza said they interior is rather ordinary, it’s mostly based on pictures of the interior. According to Culture Trip, “in 1980 it was restored to its former glory with the interior replicated to how it was in the 19th century.” Unfortunately couldn’t find any information regarding the current state of the interior.

[lawrenceop]

HOMILY for 20th Sunday after Pentecost (EF)

Eph 5:15-21; John 4:46-53

“Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise men but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil” (Eph 5:15), says St Paul in today’s epistle. And how do we know that the days in which live now, that these, our current times, are evil? You might say to me that this is obvious! Certainly, even our non-religious contemporaries will agree that 2020 has been a terrible catastrophic year, and we have seen and suffered many evils: the coronavirus and its many deadly, restrictive, and debilitating effects, of course, but also widespread riots and protests, the destruction of churches and public property, family strife and assaults, and of course, the ongoing evil of abortion. These, you might think, would be signs that the “days are evil”.

But if we are sensitive to the nuances of Sacred Scripture, we should notice that, in fact, the prevalence of sin and sickness is not the main indication that the age is evil. Rather, the prevalence of these evils in every age merely reminds us that, as St John says: “we are of God, [but] the whole world is in the power of the evil one.” (1 Jn 5:19) For the Saviour too affirms that Satan is the “ruler of this world”, whom he has cast out by the power of his holy Cross. But the reclamation of the world and its redemption takes place in us and in our lives; in how we use the material things of this world, and how we relate to God and one another. Hence, the Church exorcises and blesses persons and things, claiming them for God so that the whole of this world can be redeemed by Christ, and be used for his glory.

Therefore, given this fact, we should indeed, as St Paul says, look carefully and wisely how we walk – in other words, we must be mindful to behave as God’s own children, to follow the Lord’s wisdom handed down for generations. The prophet Micah thus says: “He has showed you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (6:8) So, in every age, whether it is an evil age or not, the Lord has asked this of us: that we should walk in friendship with our neighbours, where possible; walk in the kind of fraternal solidarity with people of good will that is spoken of by Pope Francis, and to “walk humbly” with God as Scripture says.

So, what, according to the Word of God, is a sign that we live in an evil age? In St Luke’s Gospel Jesus says: “This generation is an evil generation; it seeks a sign…” (Lk 11:29) Hence in today’s Gospel from St John, the Lord says to the official from Capernaum who had come to him seeking a healing miracle for his son: “Unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe.” (Jn 4:48) Now, it is not unreasonable to ask for one’s child, one’s parent, one’s friend and loved ones to be healed. We do it all the time, and well we should. But the key question is this: do we need signs and wonders in order to believe in God, to believe in Jesus Christ, to believe in the Word of God? In other words, do the miracles, the external signs, produce belief such that our faith depends on them? For the result of this kind of belief is that when there are no visible miracles, no external signs and beautiful wonders, no great healings, or indeed, when our prayers and novenas and penances seem to produce no results, then our faith fails; then, we doubt the goodness and wisdom of God. However, when this happens, perhaps one didn’t really have faith at all. Rather, one is of an “evil generation”, a faithless generation, that would not believe unless one sees signs and wonders.

Jesus thus first converts the heart of the man who approaches him in the Gospel. He gives him the gift of faith. As St John recounts: “Jesus said to him, ‘Go; your son will live.’ The man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him and went his way.” (Jn 4:50) Pay attention, again, to the words of the Gospel: “the man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him and went his way.” So, too, if we have the gift of faith, then we shall believe in the word of Jesus, believe in his promises, and therefore have a deep thirst to understand and contemplate the Word of God in Sacred Scripture. For, with belief in the Word of God, we will go on our way, but, mindful to look carefully how we walk, as St Paul said, so that we walk along the way of salvation that is taught by Christ’s Holy Church. This is what is meant by walking as “wise” men rather than as the unwise.

For, regrettably, there is, among some people in the Catholic Church today, a certain excitement about purported signs and wonders, and even, supposedly new revelations concerning the divine will. But this is unwise! For there can be no new revelations which supplement the public revelation given to the Church – any novelties stemming from so-called private revelation would be just heresy. And there are various groups and online videos spreading talk of signs, miracles, private revelations, new prophecies, charismatic utterances, and so on. However, to what end? For what purpose? Is it to deepen our faith in the wisdom and providence of God? Do these help us to be truly abandoned to divine providence. Or do they give us a false sense of control and security about how to navigate these evil times? Therefore, do not, like the unwise, follow false prophets and be led away from the Gospel. Remember, “walk humbly with your God”, and be warned: “an evil, faithless generation seeks a sign” (cf Mt 12:39).

Therefore, do not seek signs in order to believe. Rather, believe the Word of the Lord, and then trust that great marvels will be done in your life. For God wills to convert your heart, to raise you up from the deadliness of sin, and to give you, finally, a share in his divine Trinitarian life. This is the promise that is made to us in today’s Gospel miracle. But all this Christ does invisibly through grace albeit acting visibly through the Sacraments of his Church. At his word, spoken by the priest in persona Christi capitis, God’s grace works invisibly in our lives, but sanctifying grace will at last have visible effects too: in the way we talk to one another, in the way we love one another, in our works of mercy and charity. Thus, the sure sign of God’s power at work among us isn’t seen in splendid spectacles and great wonders; nor in mystical experiences and visions, but in the transformation of our everyday lives, in the depth and reality of our love for God and compassion for one another. A faithful generation, therefore, would recognise this, and long for an increase of charity, and seek to build a more just, fraternal, and virtuous society.  

So St Paul says in his letter to the Ephesians: “Be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” Then, continuing on with the passage sung in today’s epistle, St Paul describes how it looks like if we Christians walk in love. The grace of God produces a tangible visible sign among us as we’re “filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with all your heart, always and for everything giving thanks in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ to God the Father.” (Eph 5:18-20)

My brothers and sisters, because the “days are evil”, and because we will continue to labour under the effects of the current pandemic and the other evils of our age, know this therefore: the world is in dire need of our Christian witness of love, faith, and unity. So, as things in the world become fractured and polarised and divided, let us be united in Jesus Christ, firmly founded on faith in his Word, held within the unity of Christ’s One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, in a communion of filial love for the Pope and our Bishops. For Christ has promised to remain with us, here in his holy Church, until the end of time. And, as things become difficult and complex and confusing in our world, let us offer up our inconveniences and sufferings in penance for sin, continuing “always and for everything” to thank God for his graces and mercy. Therefore let us now lift up our hearts at the Altar, and so offer to God, in union with Christ, this Eucharist, this holy Sacrifice of our thanksgiving and praise. Through you and me, God is at work in us to redeem the world!

[definedwrath]

      uploading  data  …  ⟳  𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙴  !  

*  ;  —  welcome  ,  WILL  GRAHAM  .  a  long  way  from  hannibal  (  series  )  ,  huh  ?  hm  …  a  thirty  -  nine  year  old  forensic  psychology  professor  who  looks  like  HUGH  DANCY  —  could  be  worse  .  i  heard  you  were  at  THE  LIGHTHOUSE  when  we  un  -  glitched  ,  &  you  (  had  a  mental  breakdown  ]  .  still  the  intelligent  &  ruthless  type  ,  that’s  why  [  golden  glow  of  a  pendulum’s  swing  ,  waves  crashing  against  a  shoreline  ,  &  blood  looking  black  in  the  moonlight  ]’s  totally  your  vibe  .  the  memory  of  FALLING  OFF  THE  CLIFF  WITH  HANNIBAL  is  hazy  ,  but  maybe  the  (  foldable  pocket  knife  &  red  feathered  lure  )  waiting  for  you  at  the  pawn  shop’ll  bring  clarity  .  +  human  ,  demi  male  [  he/him  ]  ,  bisexual  .

              tws  :  blood  ,  abandonment  ,  murder  ,  death

BEGINNING  —  born  william  “  will  ”  graham  in  louisiana  ,  poor  .  his  father  worked  fixing  boats  ,  and  his  mother  had  left  before  she  had  curated  any  stable  enough  memories  for  him  to  grasp  .  he  followed  his  father  from  place  to  place  in  louisiana  before  eventually  moving  to  new  orleans  .  in  new  orleans  ,  he  became  a  homicide  detective  for  the  police  force  ,  but  he  couldn't  pull  the  trigger  .  he  left  new  orleans  to  attend  george  washington  university  in  forensic  science  and  became  a  professor  at  the  fbi  academy  .  will  has  an  empathy  disorder  ,  allowing  him  to  empathise  with  anyone  .  burdened  with  too  many  mirror  neurons  and  an  extreme  imagination  ;  through  an  exploration  of  the  evidence  as  well  as  his  empathic  nature  ,  this  allows  him  to  mentally  place  himself  in  the  positions  of  serial  killers  .  he  was  brought  in  by  special  agent  jack  crawford  to  hunt  down  a  serial  killer  and  met  a  well  -  known  consulting  psychologist  ,  hannibal  lecter  .  will  goes  to  therapy  with  hannibal  to  ensure  he  has  someone  to  pull  him  back  from  the  dark  places  he’s  thrust  into  ,  but  what  starts  as  something  akin  to  friendship  turns  into  acts  of  betrayal  ,  murder  ,  sacrifice  and  protection  as  both  of  them  begin  to  manipulate  each  other  .  down  the  rabbit  hole  they  both  go  ,  them  both  changing  each  other  with  will  finding  righteousness  ,  justice  ,  in  wrath  ;  in  doing  bad  things  to  bad  people  .  eventually  ,  it  all  comes  to  head  when  will  and  hannibal  kill  serial  killer  ,  francis  dolarhyde  ,  together  .  not  in  horror  of  the  act  ,  but  in  horror  of  the  enjoyment  of  the  action  --  will  pulls  them  both  off  a  cliff  .  

MIDDLE  —  still  ,  born  william  “  will  ”  graham  .  much  of  his  childhood  was  the  same  ,  except  no  longer  did  he  live  in  louisiana  in  his  memories  .  he  lived  in  the  cloud  for  his  whole  life  as  he  recalls  .  he  became  a  professor  at  whitmore  college  ,  teaching  forensic  psychology  .  he's  still  fully  aware  of  his  empathy  disorder  and  tries  to  remain  distant  ,  keeping  a  mental  shield  ,  in  order  to  avoid  seeing  too  much  .

END  —  will  doesn’t  have  any  explicit  memories  .  frankly  ,  he’s  trying  to  go  through  his  life  as  per  normal  .  the  mental  breakdown  resulted  from  an  influx  of  horrific  images  (  memories  )  at  the  time  .  he  had  gotten  memories  of  totem  poles  made  out  of  people  ;  of  men  becoming  cellos  ;  of  a  girl  sobbing  ,  bleeding  from  a  cut  carotid  ,  as  he  shot  a  man  dead  .  he  doesn’t  have  the  rest  of  his  memories  drawn  out  for  him  .  he  does  have  dreams  about  a  kitchen  bathed  in  blood  , though  ;  himself  ,  coated  crimson  ,  pouring  ,  spilling  .  the  sounds  of  waves  crashing  ,  crashing  louder  ,  in  his  ears  .  copper  on  his  tongue  as  blood  floods  floor  boards  ,  but  nothing  substantial  enough  --  as  if  someone  ripped  up  the  floor  boards  and  replaced  the  tile  .  steady  hands  holding  his  ,  holding  a  knife  to  his  gut  ,  taking  a  gun  from  him  ,  a  hand  cupping  his  face  .  a  man  in  a  pristine  suit  ,  betrayal  lined  in  his  features  .  a  man  he  betrayed  ,  a  man  he  changed  .  a  man  whose  heart  he  took  in  his  hands  and  squeezed  ,  whose  heart  he  broke  ,  thinks  about  hurting  and  hurting  .  a  freefall  ,  no  parachute  .  things  blurring  together  ,  a  different  man  with  a  stern  voice  ,  a  dark  -  haired  woman  and  pitying  looks  .  a  girl  he  couldn't  save  ,  and  the  ache  of  a  parent  who  lost  a  child  .  eye  contact  .  tastelessness  .  

SCRIBBLED  IN  THE  MARGIN  —  

DESPERATE  TO  CONNECT  , 

child(ren)  ;  whether  adopted  or  ‘  biological  ’  ,  i  would  love  to  have  will  adopt  someone(s)  !  it'd  be  cool  to  have  a  pretty  big  family  ,  but  will  could  also  have  an  only  child  !  i  just  really  want  will  to  have  the  opportunity  to  be  paternal  .

hookup  ;  (  m/f/nb  )  ,  someone  he's  hooked  up  with  ,  mayhaps  ?  can  either  be  a  new  thing  ,  a  past  thing  ,  a  casual  thing  ,  or  maybe  one  is  starting  to  get  some  feelings  .  whether  or  not  there’  emotions  in  it  or  just  physical  ,  maybe  a  hookup  .

exes  ;  (  m/f/nb  )  ,  whether  it  was  amicable  or  bad  ,  a  relationship  that  could  have  been  dating  or  something  stronger  in  ties  ...  a  marriage  ?  whether  they  just  couldn't  connect  or  another  painful  reason  .  (  i  won't  accept  a  cheating  plot  for  this  though  !  ]

friends  ;  you  don't  stop  having  friends  even  as  an  adult  !  give  this  poor  man  some  friends  ,  maybe  people  he  went  to  school  with  and  kept  in  touch  with  ?  someone  he  knew  from  his  childhood  ?  a  neighbour  who  became  a  friend  ?  

co  -  workers  ;  people  who  work  at  the  college  with  him  ,  it’d  be  nice  to  have  someone  he  can  get  along  with  while  he’s  not  grading  papers  .  whether  it  be  a  co  -  worker  he’s  close  to  or  otherwise  just  met  ,  any  co  -  workers  would  be  cool  .

TAG  DIRECTORY  ,

i.   alone  in  that  darkness   /   abt.     about  . i.   this  is  my  design   /   beg.     starters  . i.   if  you  can’t  beat  god   /   vis.     visuals  . i.   like  somebody  else   /   ism.     musings  . i.   this  is  my  becoming   /   int.     interactions  . i.   then  i  felt  powerful   /   aes.     aesthetics  . i.   scales  have  fallen  away   /   sol.     solos  . i.   use  a  good  scream   /   ask.     ask  responses  . i.   what’s  important  in  my  life   /   dyn.     family  values  . i.   somebody  you  cherished   /   dyn.     will  graham  &  schrodinger’s  daughter  ,  abigail  hobbs  . i.   you  and  i  have  begun  to  blur   /   dyn.     the  conscious  loss  of  one’s  self  for  another  ,  will  graham  &  hannibal  lecter  .

[pope-francis-quotes]

30th March >> (@ZenitEnglish By Deborah Castellano Lubov) #PopeFrancis #Pope Francis Full Text of Morning Homily. At Casa Santa Marta, Reminds the Church Is the Mother of All. Be Ashamed of Being a Sinner But Trust in God’s Great Mercy, Suggests #Pope Francis.

Be ashamed of being a sinner, but trust in God’s great mercy.

Pope Francis gave this reminder today, March 30, as he offered his private daily Mass at his residence Casa Santa Marta for the victims of Coronavirus, which has claimed more than 10,000 lives in Italy.

Today, the Holy Father expressed gratitude and prayed “for the many people who are not succeeding in coping and remain in fear because of the pandemic.”

“May the Lord help them,” the Pope prayed, “to have the strength to cope for the good of society and the entire community.”

In today’s homily, the Holy Father reflected on Psalm 23, and applied it to the two women presented in the readings for the Fifth Monday of Lent, namely Susanna and the woman caught in adultery (Daniel 13; John 8:1-11), reported Vatican News.

Francis began the homily citing the Responsorial Psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want; He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters; He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for Thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.”

This, Pope Francis said, is the experience these two women had, whose story we read in the two Readings. “An innocent woman, falsely accused, slandered, and a sinful woman, both sentenced to death – the innocent one and the sinful one.”

Both women, Francis recognized, were desperate, “humanly desperate,” and in “a dark valley, toward death” but Susanna trusts in God.

“The first trusts God explicitly and the Lord intervenes. The second, poor thing,” Francis said, “knows she is culpable, ashamed before all the people — because the people were present in both situations — the Gospel doesn’t say it, but undoubtedly she prayed within, asking for some help.”

“What does the Lord do with these people?” the Pope asked, noting: “He saves the innocent woman; He does justice for her. He forgives the sinful woman. He condemns the corrupt judges; He helps the hypocrites to convert and He says before the people: “Yes, really? Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her,” and one by one they went away.”

The Pope went on to say how the Lord deals with all of us who are sinners, showing us mercy, as long as we are not corrupt.

Each One of Us

“Each one of us,” Pope Francis acknowledged, “has his own stories. Each one of us has his own sins. And if he doesn’t remember them, he must think a bit and he will find them. Thank God if you find them, because if you don’t find them, you are a corrupt person.”

Even with our sins, we must–Pope Francis suggested–remember our Lord does justice but is so very merciful.

“Let us not be ashamed to be in the Church,” the Pope noted, saying we ought to “be ashamed of being sinners.”

“The Church is Mother of all,” he said, noting We thank God that we are not corrupt, but we are sinners. And each one of us, seeing how Jesus acts in these cases, must trust in God’s mercy.”

“Pray,” Pope Francis exhorted, “with trust in God’s mercy; pray for forgiveness. Because God ‘leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death — the valley of sin — I fear no evil; for Thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.’”

Before concluding, the Pope exhorted faithful to partake in Spiritual Communion in this difficult time, and ended the celebration with Eucharistic Adoration and Benediction.

Here are the Holy Father’s words, followed by the prayer for Spiritual Communion:

I prostrate myself at your feet, O my Jesus, and I offer you the repentance of my contrite heart, which abases itself in its nothingness in Your Holy Presence. I adore you in the Sacrament of Your Love; I desire to receive You in the poor abode that my heart offers You. While waiting for the happiness of a Sacramental Communion, I want to possess You in spirit. Come to me, O my Jesus, that I may come to You. May Your Love inflame my whole being, in life and in death. I believe in You, I hope in You, I love You. Amen.

The Masses in Francis’ chapel normally welcome a small group of faithful, but due to recent measures’ taken by the Vatican, are now being kept private, without their participation.

It was announced this month that the Pope would have these Masses, in this period, be available to all the world’s faithful, via streaming on Vatican Media, on weekdays, at 7 am Rome time.

The Vatican has also published the Pope’s Holy Week and Easter schedule, confirming this year’s events will not welcome the physical presence of the faithful, and the events will be made available via streaming.

This comes at a time too when the Italian bishops’ conference has canceled public Masses throughout the nation, until at least April 3rd, following guidelines put out by Italian authorities.

In addition to Santa Marta, the Vatican has taken other steps to keep people safe and to stay close to the Pope, even if from a distance. They are televising the Pope giving privately, from the papal library, his weekly Angelus and General Audience addresses.

The Vatican Museums are now closed, along with the Vatican’s other similar museums. There have also been various guidelines implemented throughout the Vatican, to prevent the spread of the virus.

To date, the Vatican has confirmed that four people have been tested positive for Coronavirus in the Vatican, and those who were in close contact with them are all being quarantined at home. Recent reports, not confirmed yet by the Holy See, note there is an Italian monsignor who works at the Italian section of the Vatican Secretariat for State, and lives the Pope’s residence, Santa Marta, has also tested positive and is being hospitalized for COVID19.

The Vatican has neither confirmed nor denied reports which say the Pope was tested since then for COVID19.

By this evening in Rome, Italy’s civil protection agency will confirm that more than 7,000 Italians have died from the virus.

For anyone interested, the Pope’s Masses at Santa Marta can be watched live and can be watched afterward on Vatican YouTube. Below is a link to today’s Mass. Also, a ZENIT English translation of the Pope’s full homily can be read below:

***

***

FULL HOMILY

In the Responsorial Psalm we prayed: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want; He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters; He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for Thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.”

This is the experience that these two women had, whose story we read in the two Readings. An innocent woman, falsely accused, slandered, and a sinful woman, both sentenced to death – the innocent one and the sinful one. Some Fathers of the Church saw in these two women a figure of the Church: holy, but with sinful children. They said in a beautiful Latin expression: “The Church is the chaste whore, the holy one with sinful children.

Both women were desperate, humanly desperate, but Susanna trusts in God. There are also two groups of persons, of men, both assigned to the service of Church: the judges and the teachers of the Law. They weren’t ecclesiastics, but were at the service of the Church, in the tribunal and in the teaching of the Law — different. The first, those that accused Susanna, were corrupt: the corrupt judge, the emblematic figure in history. In the Gospel also, in the parable of the persistent widow, Jesus resumes the story of the corrupt judge that didn’t believe in God, and didn’t care at all about others — the corrupt. The Doctors of the Law weren’t corrupt but hypocrites. And these women — one fell into the hands of hypocrites and the other into the hands of the corrupt; there was no way out. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for Thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.” Both women were in a dark valley, they went there: a dark valley, towards death. The first trusts God explicitly and the Lord intervenes. The second, poor thing, knows she is culpable, ashamed before all the people — because the people were present in both situations — the Gospel doesn’t say it, but undoubtedly she prayed within, asking for some help.

What does the Lord do with these people? He saves the innocent woman; He does justice for her. He forgives the sinful woman. He condemns the corrupt judges; He helps the hypocrites to convert and He says before the people: “Yes, really? Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her,” and one by one they went away. The Apostle John is somewhat ironical here: “When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the eldest.” He gives them a bit of time to repent; He doesn’t forgive the corrupt man, simply because the corrupt one is incapable of asking for forgiveness, he went beyond. He got tired . . . no, he didn’t get tired: he isn’t capable. Corruption has taken away from him that capacity we all have to be ashamed, to ask for forgiveness. No, the corrupt person is sure, he goes forward, destroys, exploits people, as this woman — everything, everything . . . he goes forward. He has put himself in God’s place.

And the Lord answers the women. He frees Susanna from these corrupt men; He makes her go forward. And to the other, He says: ”Neither do I condemn you; go and do not sin again.” He lets her go and He does so before the people. In the first case, the people praise the Lord; in the second case, the people learn, they learn how God’s mercy is. Each one of us has his own stories. Each one of us has his own sins. And if he doesn’t remember them, he must think a bit and he will find them. Thank God if you find them, because if you don’t find them, you are a corrupt person. Each one of us has his own sins. We look at the Lord who does justice but is so very merciful. Let us not be ashamed to be in the Church; let us be ashamed of being sinners. The Church is Mother of all. We thank God that we are not corrupt, but we are sinners. And each one of us, seeing how Jesus acts in these cases, must trust in God’s mercy. And pray, with trust in God’s mercy; pray for forgiveness. Because God “leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death — the valley of sin — I fear no evil; for Thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.”

The Pope ended the celebration with Eucharistic Adoration and Benediction, inviting the faithful to make a Spiritual Communion.

Here is the Prayer Recited by the Pope

I prostrate myself at your feet, O my Jesus, and I offer You the repentance of my contrite heart, which abases itself in its nothingness in Your holy Presence. I adore You in the Sacrament of your Love, the ineffable Eucharist. I desire to receive You in the poor abode that my heart offers You; while waiting for the happiness of Sacramental Communion, I want to possess You in Spirit. Come to me, O my Jesus, that I may come to You. May your Love inflame my whole being in life and in death. I believe in You, I hope in You, I love You. Amen.

Before leaving the Chapel dedicated to the Holy Spirit, the ancient Marian antiphon Ave Regina Caelorum (“Hail Queen of Heaven”) was intoned.

[ZENIT translation of Pope Francis’ full homily at Santa Marta]

30th MARCH 2020 12:44POPE'S MORNING HOMILY

[mythicallore]

The Strange Case of the Hammersmith Ghost

All over the world there are supposed hauntings, and while very interesting these cases seem to come and go, creeping up into the public consciousness only to fade away into history. Yet some of these alleged hauntings have gone on to become far more than what they began as, and actually reach out to change the world as we know it to some extent. One such case happened in England in the 1800s, and it is a weird case that has managed to change the course of British law, and remains a fascinating look into another time and place.

In November of 1803, a very strange visitor seemed to have emerged at the Hammersmith District of West London, in England. Reports began to come in of some sort of supernatural entity lurking within the dark Hammersmith Churchyard and cemetery, which most often appeared as a tall male figure that emitted an eerie white glow, but also on occasion as dressed in a calfskin garment with horns and large glass eyes, and it showed some very aggressive behavior. In addition to the typical ghostly behavior of shambling about, moaning and generally freaking people out, the sinister ghost was also said to actively chase anyone who came near the area, and that if it actually caught up to the victim would physically assault them.

This happened on one occasion when a woman was passing through the churchyard only to encounter the notorious ghost, which grabbed her in a vice-like grip and caused the terrified woman to lose consciousness and die a few days later. In another infamous report at the time, a man named Brewer Thomas Groom claimed that the ghost had roughly grabbed him by the throat and that he had barely managed to fight the apparition off, and he would say “I saw nothing; I gave a bit of a push out with my fist, and felt something soft, like a great coat.” One elderly woman also reported having been knocked to the ground by the wraith, and another younger pregnant woman was also attacked, with both instances allegedly proving so utterly horrifying that the victims allegedly later died from pure fright. There was another case in which the ghost stepped out of the night to stop a horse driven coach and caused the driver to flee in a desperate panic. On yet another occasion a night-watchman named William Girdler actually reversed the roles and chased the ghost, only to have it vanish before his eyes.

Rumors began to swirl that this was the restless and vengeful spirit of a local man who had had committed suicide and then been buried on consecrated ground, which was believed to have been against church policy and had turned the poor man into a wandering revenant. Whatever the origin of this strange specter, the sightings and terrifying encounters with it increased in number and intensity until no one was brave enough to walk through the narrow lanes of the area at night, and certainly no one went near the cemetery itself. It got so bad that at one point businesses were worried because no one would even pass by the area to make deliveries, and there was a general haze of panic hanging over the whole neighborhood.

This climate of fear and terror spurred the forming of armed groups of locals, who took the law into their own hands to go out and patrol the area in the hopes of finding out more or chasing the intruder away. It is unclear what they hoped to do with their weapons against a supernatural entity, but many of them believed they were actually dealing with a normal criminal who was terrorizing people and running amok. One of these patrolmen was a man named Francis Smith, who on the evening of January 3, 1804 was patrolling a dark street called Black Lion Lane when he would have an encounter with what he thought was the notorious ghost.

As Smith walked along in the quiet night there was movement ahead, a flash of white, a figure that bloomed from the dark to make its way down a row of hedges towards him. It is unknown whether Smith himself really had believed there was an actual ghost in the area, but at point he certainly did, and after a call out for the figure to halt went unanswered he is said to have exclaimed “Damn you. Who are you and what do you want?” before firing his shotgun at the intruder with a thunderous boom. Strangely, for a ghost, the shadowy figure stumbled and fell upon the road, and this is because it has not been a ghost at all.

Residents of the area came running, and when the body was examined it was found to be a man, dressed in the traditional white clothes of a bricklayer, and he was very dead. The man was soon found to have been a local bricklayer named Thomas Millwood. Francis Smith was promptly arrested on the charges of murder. By all accounts Smith was a rather decent man and completely shocked by the fact that he had killed someone, and he proclaimed as he was taken away to Newgate Prison that he had thought he had fired at the Hammersmith Ghost, but these pleas fell on deaf ears and he would go to trial for the murder of Millwood.

As Smith was awaiting trial several interesting details came to light. One was that the fatal incident had not been the first time that Millwood had been mistaken for the ghost, and he had startled a few people who had passed by, keyed up by all of the talk of wandering specters, to the point that his wife had begged him to change his attire. Another was that Millwood wasn’t even the “real” Hammersmith ghost, but that this honor rather belonged to a local shoemaker named John Graham, who came forward to admit that he had been dressing up as a ghost at night as a prank to scare his apprentice, who had been absolutely terrifying Graham’s children with spooky ghost stories at night. It is unclear if this twisted prank had any connection with all of the many ghost attacks and sightings around Hammersmith, but at the time it was considered case closed, except for Smith, who faced execution for his crime.

In the ensuing trial Smith was found guilty, and despite many testimonies to his good character and the fact that he had not meant to kill Millwood, he was condemned to the sentence of death by hanging and dissection. Luckily for him, the sentence was later commuted to a far lesser punishment of 1 year of hard labor. Through it all, the case presented a legal conundrum for the courts and UK law as a whole, in that it posed the question of whether acting on a mistaken belief, in this case that Millwood was a ghost, was a sufficient defense for a criminal charge, and whether someone could actually be held liable for their criminal actions under this false belief.

While it may seem at first glance like a simple question, and that guilty is guilty, it presented quite a tricky legal precedent, and would actually be argued and debated for nearly two centuries, until 1983 when the issue would be legally resolved with a Court of Appeal case concerning a man by the name of Gladstone Williams, who had attacked a man he thought had been assaulting another when he had actually been in the process of apprehending a thief. Williams was charged but the ruling was later successfully appealed in a groundbreaking decision by using the defense that he had misunderstood the situation under a mistaken belief, in a case now known as “ R. v Williams (Gladstone),” and this precedent was successfully written into law in 2008. At the time, Lord Chief Justice Lane would say of all of this:

In a case of self-defence, where self-defence or the prevention of crime is concerned, if the jury came to the conclusion that the defendant believed, or may have believed, that he was being attacked or that a crime was being committed, and that force was necessary to protect himself or to prevent the crime, then the prosecution have not proved their case. If however the defendant’s alleged belief was mistaken and if the mistake was an unreasonable one, that may be a peaceful reason for coming to the conclusion that the belief was not honestly held and should be rejected. Even if the jury come to the conclusion that the mistake was an unreasonable one, if the defendant may genuinely have been labouring under it, he is entitled to rely upon it.

The decision has changed the landscape of the law in the UK, and it was all thanks to the “Hammersmith Ghost.” In a strange twist of fate, although the ghost was eventually deemed to have been the doings of pranks and mischief, the area truly would seemingly take up a ghostly resident in the form of a supposedly real haunting by none other than the ghost of Thomas Millwood, which supposedly hangs about the Black Lion Lane and a pub located there, spooking patrons with strange noises and manifestations. This presents the rather odd situation of a fake ghost causing a death of a man who was mistaken for a ghost, leading to a real ghost originating with the victim of that crime. Mind blown. The case of the Hammersmith Ghost has gone on to become a rather curious historical oddity, and a landmark instance in which the paranormal, or at least the belief in it, changed the law as we know it.

[graciebirdie]

Can you believe I wrote sterek again? fake dating snowed in sterek at that

Derek Hale chose to attend Southern Oregon university because it was breathtakingly beautiful and it had a good history department. The fact it was 9 hours away from anyone who knew him was pure coincidence.

He came to Ashland an awkward teenager uncomfortable in his own skin and mistrustful of strangers. Six years, one bachelor’s degree, two relatively well received books, and several guest lectures later Derek was more than happy with himself and his life.

Sometimes he felt a bit lonely and missed his pack, but then one of them would call him and say something to remind him of how judgmental they all were, and he got over it.

It had been hard those first few months, trying to fit in with the pack in Ashland.

The Ashland pack wasn’t made up of only family members like the Beacon Hills pack was. Because Ashland was a college town, werewolves came and went so often Derek didn’t even bother to meet them all.

But he’d somehow managed to make two friends in the pack. Vernon Boyd and Erica Reyes weren’t people Derek would have ever imagined being friends with in high school but the three of them got along surprisingly well.

They had even introduced Derek to his best friend, Stiles Stilinski.

Erica had forced Derek out to a bar with her, claiming he and Boyd would have fun but neglected to mention the country music was the theme of the bar they were going to.

The moment Derek walked in he was fully prepared to walk right back out. He had turned towards the door only to have someone walk right into him.

The fact Stiles and Derek had a meet-cute story delighted Stiles and annoyed Derek to no end.

Erica and Stiles were both criminology students and had met through shared classes. Erica was on her way to becoming a member of the Supernatural Special Forces Division, but wanted a degree under her belt beforehand while Stiles was getting his bachelor of science degree in criminal justice so that he could one day run for his father’s position of sheriff in Stiles’ home town.

Derek should have recognized the name Sheriff Stilinski when Stiles first told him about his father, but he hadn’t, his excuse being that he had been slightly tipsy and suffering from a headache brought on by the incessant twanging the bar’s live band.

Stiles would have recognized the name Cora Hale, if Derek ever referred to his siblings in any other way than ‘Those people I had to share a bathroom with.’

It took Derek almost two months to convince Stiles that he didn’t really hate his family, he just preferred to love them from afar.

Now six months after meeting Stiles for the first time Derek finally realized they grew up in the same town.

Derek had stopped by the library, where Stiles was working, to pick up some books he had ordered. He was there around Stiles’ lunch hour and decided to ask if Stiles wanted to get some food with him.

When he walked into the building he saw Stiles at the checkout counter talking to one of his liberal arts friends Fred, or maybe Frank.

Derek walked up right as Stiles said, “Oh, I’m going home to Beacon Hills for Christmas.”

Derek leaned across the library counter and eyed Stiles. “Beacon Hills?” he asked.

Stiles blinked at him for a moment before his eyes got huge and he gasped. “The Hale pack!”

“Are you seriously just now putting that together?” Derek asked, as if he had known the whole time they were from the same town.

“It’s not like Hale is a unique last name!” Stiles said, flailing his hand out and bumping it against Derek’s face in the process. “Unlike Stilinski ! How many ‘Sheriff Stilinski’s have you heard of?”

Derek shrugged and pointedly didn’t say anything.

Stiles quirked an eyebrow. “I can’t believe we grew up in the same town, but it took us going 550 miles away from it to meet! How crazy is that? We practically grew up together!” Stiles exclaimed in delight.

Derek rolled his eyes. “We didn’t grow up together . I’m six years older than you.”

“Oh, come on Derek! In this age of opened mindedness six years means nothing!”

Since the moment they had met Stiles had been flirting with him. He knew Stiles was only playing, having seen him flirt with both Erica and Boyd on numerous occasions, but strangely Derek found Stiles’ slightly awkward advances almost charming rather than annoying.

“You’re right, our age difference doesn’t matter.” Derek leaned even closer to Stiles. “Because we’re not dating.”

Stiles pouted. “We could be if you’d ever agree to go out on a date with me.”

Stiles had never actually asked Derek out on a date. Derek didn’t point that out to him.

He sighed deeply. “Sorry Stiles, asking me out like that’ll get you nowhere.”

Stiles snorted and raised his eyebrows questioningly, asking Derek without words whether he was being serious or not.

Derek shrugged stiffly. “I’m sorry, Stiles, but I’m just not ready to start dating again. Not after what happened with Jennifer.”

Derek had had only two steady girlfriends in his life. Both had ended up being serial killers. Derek had briefly considered becoming a monk after Jennifer’s arrest but his lack of interest in organized religion had put a damper on that idea.

Stiles, who had been the first to realize something was just a bit off with Jennifer, quickly understood.  “That’s okay Derek, I get it. Well I don’t get it get it, I’ve never had the same experience you have, but I get where you’re coming from and-”

“Thanks, Stiles.” Derek quickly cut Stiles off, knowing the other man would just fall into babbling if he wasn’t stopped. “I’m glad someone gets it. My family is convinced it’s something that’s easy to get over…”

In fact, Peter Hale, Derek’s uncle, had just that morning called to ask Derek if he had found a new girlfriend yet. After all, according to Peter, three months was a perfectly acceptable time to get over the trauma dating a serial killer could cause.

“Man, I can’t believe both of our families are pushing us to date. What is this, the 50’s? What happened to the 70’s free love they fought for?”

“They’re still pushing you to date someone?” Derek asked.

“Oh, you know,” Stiles said, waving his hand dismissively, “Once one kid gets married it’s apparently required for the other to get married too.”

Stiles’ stepbrother Scott had recently married his high school sweetheart. Even since, Stiles father and stepmother had become increasingly concerned with Stiles’ love life, or rather, lack thereof.

From Derek’s right Fred said, “Um, Stiles?”

Derek twitched in surprise having forgotten Fred was even there. He turned and crossed his arms over his chest, staring Fred down. Fred took a nervous step away from the counter. Derek smirked.

“Oh, I’m sorry Francis. What were you saying?”

Fred tried to shuffle closer to Stiles, but Derek refused to move. “I was just…Wondering if…you wanted to spend Christmas together?”

“Oh sorry, Francis, but like I said, I’m going home for Christmas to see my family.” Stiles said apologetically.

Fury was rolling off Fred in waves and Derek puffed up threateningly.

“Stiles, how can you be so oblivious?” Fred yelled. Someone shushed him from the stacks, but Fred ignored them. “How can you go around making jokes about asking people out when I’ve been trying to ask you out for months and you haven’t even noticed?”

From the stacks someone else hissed “No yelling in the library.”

“Francis I’m so sorry.” Stiles said, looking genuinely upset. “I didn’t realize you liked me. I thought you just wanted to hang out, like friends do?”

“You thought wrong!” Fred yelled. He turned on his heel and stormed out. Stiles blinked owlishly after him.

“What just happened?” he asked.

“You dodged a bullet.” Derek said, glaring at the front doors.

“Guess so…” Stiles muttered as he leaned under the counter to pull Derek’s books out.

When Stiles straightened back up Derek caught the forlorn expression on his face and tried to lighten the mood, “If it was only so easy for my family to misunderstand, maybe they’d leave me alone.”

Stiles bounced up from his chair and managed to hit himself in the face with his hand in his excitement. “Derek.” He said, trying to sound serious but missing by a mile with his hand cupping his stinging cheek.

Derek’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, both at the abrupt mood swing and tone. Just the week before Stiles had used that tone to convince a very pushy waitress that Derek was not, in fact, a published writer but that he had had his identity stolen.

The waitress had left them angrily bewildered, but she had stopped trying to get Derek’s number, so he hadn’t complained at the time.

“Derek, just hear me out.” Stiles said eagerly, bouncing up and down on his toes in his excitement.

Derek worriedly eyed the rolling chair behind Stiles, hoping that if Stiles tripped over it he wouldn’t crack his head open.

“Whatever harebrained scheme you’re thinking up, stop it right now.” Derek said firmly.

“But Derek it’ll solve all of our problems!” Stiles said, grinning widely in that ridiculously infectious way he had.

“Stiles no.” Derek said.

“Stiles yes !” Stiles yelled.

From the stacks someone screamed “Shut the fuck up!”

Derek facepalmed.

Derek and Stiles had gotten kicked out of the library by the head librarian. Stiles had managed to keep his job only by bribing her with baked good.

They walked down the street to the bakery, both to grab lunch and a bribery bear claws.

They ordered and while they sat waiting Derek glared at Stiles.

Stiles smiled innocently at Derek before saying, “We should tell our families we’re dating.”

Derek sighed deeply in defeat. He’d thought that was what Stiles would say. “Stiles you can’t lie to werewolves, remember?”

Stiles leaned forward across the table and batted his eyelashes teasingly. “Who said anything about lying?” he whispered

Derek was momentarily distracted by how pretty Stiles’ eyes looked and how very long his eyelashes were. He realized suddenly how close their faces were to each other and leaned back a bit. He closed his eyes and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Stiles I just told you-” Derek started tiredly.

“No no !” Stiles said, waving his hand to cut Derek off. “I meant we can temporarily date! You know, until after Christmas!”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Okay we’ll tell them we’re dating and that’ll be the truth, but are you forgetting about everything else we would have to lie about?”

“Derek.” Stiles said seriously. “Don’t you know that the best lie is the truth?”

Derek frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked suspiciously.

“We tell them that we recently started dating, that we’re not sure how serious it’s going to be, and that we’re taking things slowly.”

“What’s our first date then?” Derek asked slowly, intrigued despite himself.

Stiles waved his hand around dramatically. “Derek! We’re on a date right now!”

Derek opened his mouth to correct him but stopped, realizing that it could be a date. He blinked at Stiles in surprise.

Stiles was smirking smugly at him. He wiggled his eyebrows. “Gotcha.” Stiles said. He pointed finger guns at Derek.

Derek hung his head and muttered “I’m going to regret this.”

Stiles fist pumped and hit the waitress.

Derek buried his face in his hands while Stiles stuttered out apologies to her.

What had he gotten himself into?

Three days before Christmas and Derek wasn’t regretting agreeing to Stiles’ stupid temporary dating idea as much as he had thought he would be.

It was seven in the morning and they were just about to set off on the nine-hour drive to Beacon Hills, so Derek figured he still had plenty of time for the regret to set in.

Stiles had shown up just a few minutes before, sleepy eyed but baring coffee. He pressed one of the cups into Derek’s hand with a smirk. Derek eyed the coffee apprehensively. It had an innocuous knit cozy around it.

Derek glared at him and Stiles smiled sweetly. “Good morning boyfriend of mine.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed as he sniffed his coffee. He had been right to be suspicious. It smelled like some overly sweetened fake peppermint monstrosity.

“Stiles.” Derek said slowly. “Did you buy me coffee from Starbucks ?”

Stiles gasped and pressed a hand to his chest. “ Me ? Buy you a coffee from an overpriced chain coffee store? I would never !”

Derek pulled the cozy off to reveal the logo. He brandished the cup threateningly at Stiles who gasped dramatically.

Derek rolled his eyes and pushed a bag of presents into Stiles’ free hand. “Help me carry these down to my car.”

He picked up two bags to carry himself and closed the door to his apartment. He started down the hallway to the elevator with Stiles right on his heels.

“Your car?” Stiles asked, trying to hold onto the bag and his coffee without tripping over the elevator step. “I thought we were taking my car?”

“Stiles, there is absolutely no way in hell we’re going to take your death trap-waiting-to-happen!”  Derek glared at Stiles over the rim of his coffee cup.

“Well there’s no way in hell I would be caught dead in your sensible soccer-mom car!”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Key word being dead.”

“Hey!” Stiles said, offended on his cars’ behalf. “My baby’s perfectly capable of getting us to Beacon Hills in mostly one piece!”

The elevator opened in the lobby and they stepped out.

“I’m convinced the only thing keeping that car together is duct tape and magic.” Derek said, opening and holding the front door for Stiles.

“Are you dissing my magic, Hale?” Stiles asked, glaring threateningly at Derek.

Derek gestured impatiently for Stiles to keep walking. “No Stiles.” He said dutifully.

Stiles smirked at him over his shoulder. As a result, he didn’t see the large patch of ice and would have walked right into it if Derek hadn’t reached out and grabbed the hood of his coat. Stiles gagged and glared as Derek dragged him around the ice and through a patch of snow. “Great. Now my shoes are wet.”

“If you were wearing boots that wouldn’t be a problem.” Derek said, letting go of Stiles hood to lead the way to his car.

“I’m a poor undergrad, Derek. I don’t have money to splurge on boots!”

Derek unlocked the trunk of his very sensible and reliable cruiser and put his bags inside it. He reached out to help Stiles with the one he was holding and smirked. “And yet you can afford stupid overpriced chain coffee. And duct tape.”

Stiles glared. “Okay fine! You win! We’ll take your stupid car. Are you happy now?”

“I’d be happier if we’d already gotten this done and over with.”

“Oh, lighten up Der.” Stiles said as he opened his jeep, which was conveniently parked in the spot next to Derek’s.

“Der?” Derek asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Nobody’s ever called me Der before.”

“Seriously?” Stiles asked as he pulled his own bags from his jeep. “It’s right there!”

“Why’d you call me that?”

Stiles gave Derek a pitying look. “We’re dating . I’m contractually obligated to call you stupid pet names.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “If we had a contract I would have stipulated no pet names.”

“What have you got against pet name? Pet names are great!” Stiles carefully arranged his and Derek’s bags before stepping back so Derek could close the trunk.

“They’re stupid.”

Stiles stared. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

Derek shrugged and led the way back to his apartment to get the rest of his things. “Do I need a better reason?”

“Well…” Stiles said, frowning in thought. “I guess not…”

Derek sidestepped the patch of ice. He absently held his arm out. He hadn’t even realized he’d done it before Stiles shrieked and grabbed onto him. Derek gave a long-suffering sigh and hauled Stiles away from the ice before he could do more than slip.

From where Stiles was pressed up against Derek’s side he smiled and in a saccharine voice said, “I’m going to call you Der-bear.”

Derek growled. “Call me that again and we’ll take your car only for there to be a tragic accident .”

Stiles shifted closer and pressed a kiss against Derek’s cheek.

“You wouldn’t dare...-bear.” He whispered before taking off down the sidewalk, cackling madly.

Derek went completely still, momentarily distracted by how warm Stiles’ lips had felt. Then he shot after Stiles, intent on making sure he paid for his stupid nicknames.

“Stiles, if you don’t hold still I’m putting you in the trunk and letting the presents ride shotgun.” Derek said in exasperation.

Stiles had fallen asleep almost the moment he had gotten into the car, but the peace had only lasted just over an hour and now Stiles was trying to drive Derek insane.

“But I’m bored!” Stiles whined.

Derek flicked the radio on, hoping to drown him out. Christmas music blared from the speakers and Derek scrambled to turn it off.

“Jesus the Christ!” Stiles yelled, his hands over his ears. “I didn’t know you liked Christmas music that much Derek.”

“I hate Christmas music.” Derek said, glaring at the radio. “Erica borrowed the car. She probably thought she was being funny.”

Stiles snorted and pulled out his phone. “I’m sure it would have been hilarious if I hadn’t been collateral damage.”

Derek ignored him.

They drove in silence for a few minutes before Stiles started chuckling. “Apparently Erica does think she’s funny.”

Derek rolled his eyes. Of course, she did. Sometimes Derek didn’t know why he was even friends with her.

“She said she can’t wait for us to get back, so she can take us out for a ‘glad you finally got your shit together’ dinner.”

“I told her it was only temporary.” Derek said, not surprise that she had willfully ignored him.

“Yeah I told her too. She sent a winky emoji, an eggplant, and raindrops. Obviously, she doesn’t believe us.”

“I guess if she thinks we’re dating our families will too.” Derek said with a sigh.

“Wow, Derek!” Stiles said, beaming. “Look at you, looking on the bright side!”

“Don’t get used to it.”

Stiles reached over and turned the radio back on, being careful to turn the volume knob down before any sound could come out. He then carefully twisted it until soft Christmas music filled the car.

Derek grit his teeth together. He reached out and changed the channel, only to find more Christmas music. He spent almost a minute flipping channels before giving up and turning the radio back off.

“Wow.” Stiles said. “You really do hate Christmas music.”

“It’s annoying and repetitive. And it always makes me think of the mall for some reason…” Derek trialed off as he glared at the car driving too slowly in front of them.

“Thatta boy, Derek!” Stiles said gleefully. “Fight the man!”

Derek glanced distractedly at Stiles as he overtook the slower car. “Stiles, you literally work for the man.”

Stiles pouted and sighed deeply. “You’re right, I keep forgetting libraries are government property.”

“And you’re dad’s a sheriff.”

Stiles slumped back into his seat. “Way to ruin my fun, Derek Downer.”

They were both quiet for a few miles before Derek said, “Are you seriously mad I ruined your joke?”

Stiles smirked at him. “Nope. I just wanted to see how long you could go without saying anything.”

Derek glanced incredibly at Stiles. “How long I could go? I can go days without talking to anybody. Want me to prove it?”

“It wasn’t a challenge!” Stiles yelled in a panic.

Derek chuckled.

Stiles glared at him. “Just for that I get to pick the music!”

Stiles pulled out an aux and plugged it in to his phone. He glared at it in concentration before softly say ‘aha!’

Over the speakers a man started to speak softly. For a moment Derek thought they were going to listen to ASMR so Stiles could fall back to sleep but then the man started making jokes.

Derek listened for a minute before asking, “Stiles. What… is this?”

“This,” Stiles said reverently, sweeping his arm out and grinning. “Is pure genius.”

“Are they…?” Derek asked hesitantly.

“Shh Derek.” Stiles said, reaching out to caress the side of Derek’s face. “Don’t speak, just listen.”

Derek resigned himself to listening to someone sing ridiculous songs about dicks for a while.

Four hours later they had made it little over halfway through their drive, listened to all the stupid dick joke music Stiles could find and had had a lively debate over whether any of the songs had a deeper meaning or not.

Stiles craned his neck to look up at the sky. “It looks like it’s going to start snowing again.”

“Hope not. We might have to spend the night somewhere if it gets too bad.”

Stiles winced. “Three days until Christmas, places are going to be booked. You want me to start looking?” Stiles asked, wiggling his phone around.

“Not yet. I don’t want to stop unless we have to.”

Stiles frowned and shifted in his seat. “Does that mean I have to drive?”

“No.” Derek said firmly.

Stiles glanced worriedly at him. “Derek, you can’t drive nine hours straight if it keeps snowing like this.”

“Werewolf.” Derek said smugly.

Stiles huffed. “Werewolf is not an acceptable excuse for reckless driving!”

“I don’t need as much sleep as you and my night vision is better than yours.”

Stiles gasped in outrage. “You do so need as much sleep as me! You being grumpy in the morning is proof!”

“I’m grumpy all the time, you have no proof.”

“Derek Hale, if you don’t pull over somewhere for the night I’m calling your mother.”

Derek gaped at him.

Stiles smirked, knowing he had won the argument.

“That’s right.” He said smugly. “Precious human cargo on board, your mom will totally take my side.”

“I can’t believe you and mom are ganging up on me and you haven’t even met yet.”

Stiles smirked. “Sucks to be you.”

An hour later and snow was really falling hard.

“Damn, it’s really coming down now.” Stiles said, worriedly looking out the window.

“You want me to pull over soon?” Derek asked, glancing over to check on him.

Stiles chewed his lip nervously. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” he pulled out his phone to look for hotels.

He was quiet for a few minutes before whispering “Fuck.”

“What is it?” Derek asked.

“The snow’s messing with the signal.” Stiles glanced out the window. “Or maybe it’s the mountains.”

Derek sighed and decreased his speed. “Sorry Stiles. Guess we’re doing this the old-fashioned way.”

Stiles smiled softly at him. “It’s fine. I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”

Derek looked doubtfully out at the tightly packed trees of the pacific highway.

He glanced over at Stiles, taking in his vaguely nervous expression and the way his hands wouldn’t stop squeezing the armrest.

Derek reached over brushed his fingers against the back of Stiles hand. “We’ll be fine Stiles. I’ve got the chains on.”

Stiles nodded absently but he stopped twitching as much.

After what felt like forever Stiles finally pointed out a bright and glowing vacant sign almost hidden in the snow and trees.

Derek sighed deeply in relief. Stiles had been tense and quiet for almost a full half hour and it had put Derek on edge.

He carefully turned into the parking lot of what looked like a motel, but it was hard to tell with the dark clouds and snow.

He parked as carefully as he could before jumping out of the car and hurrying inside the building with Stiles right on his heels.

They were hit with a blast of heat and the scent of wood smoke. Derek realized they were inside a large stylized faux wood cabin. In the middle of the high ceiling lobby was a long check in desk.

“Hello?” Stiles called, looking around in interest.

A crash and cursing came from behind the desk.

Stiles and Derek ran over to make sure the attendant was alright.

Behind the desk and sprawled out on the floor was a man dressed in a rumpled Santa suit, including beard and wild eyes.

He stared up at them for a moment before asking “Do I know you two or did I hit my head?”

“Coach Finstock?” Stiles asked in amazement.

The name rang a bell and Derek realized he was looking at one of his old high school teachers.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles and Finstock asked in unison.

“I own this place!” Finstock yelled, “What are you two doing here? Hill and Bilinski, right?”

“We’re looking for somewhere to spend the night. It’s a blizzard out there.” Derek said.

At the same time Stiles said, “Hale and Stilinski.”

Finstock didn’t seem to hear him. “Why the hell did you come here then?” he asked.

“Your vacancy light was on?” Stiles said in confusion.

“Fucking Greenberg!” Finstock yelled. “I told him to turn that light off hours ago!”

“Greenberg’s here?” Stiles asked, sounding baffled.

“Who’s Greenberg?” Derek whispered to Stiles.

Stiles smirked at him and leaned closer to whisper back “I’ll tell you later.” Stiles whipped around to look at Finstock, who had pulled himself and his chair up, and was brushing off the seat of his pants and readjusting his beard. “Wait! Does that me you don’t have any rooms available?”

Finstock glared at them. “I don’t have rooms at all, I have cabins.”

“Cabins?” Stiles whispered. He turned to Derek in excitement and whispered again “ Cabins .”

Derek sighed. He knew where this was going. “Do you have any available?”

Finstock regarded them through narrowed eyes. “It’s Christmas Eve Eve Eve.” He said sternly. “And we don’t accept walk-ins.”

Stiles face fell.

“ But …” Finstock said.

Stiles lit up and practically vibrated in place. “But?”

“But it is Christmas. And I know both of your parents. If you two hooligans so much as steal a washcloth I will be calling them, you hear me?”

“ Hooligans ?” Derek asked in bewilderment.

“Coach I swear on my honor I’ll keep Derek in line.” Stiles said while placing his hand over his heart and trying to look sincere

“ Me ?” Derek asked, offended.

“See that you do.” Finstock said, narrowing his eyes at Derek.

“What did I do?” Derek asked.

They both ignored him.

“So, Coach, how’d you end up owning cabins ?” Stiles asked, eagerly leaning against the check in desk.

Finstock smiled, “I’ve always wanted to live out in the middle of nowhere in a beautiful little cabin. No angsty smelly teenagers for miles around.” He sighed wistfully before becoming completely serious. “But life out here is fucking expense and I needed something to do with my time, so I built cabins with my own two hands. And then I had too many cabins, so I decided to rent them out.”

Stiles eyed Finstock in concern. “I’m sure…that could happen to anyone?”

“But then!” Finstock continued, seemingly not having heard Stiles “The demand for rentable cabins increased and my need to continue making useful things only grew and I ran out of land to build on and cabins to rent.”

Stiles shuffled closer to Derek as they watched Finstock gesture wildly, his voice rising with every word and fake beard slipping off his chin.

“So, I bought more land! And I built more cabins! But I couldn’t maintain them all on my own, so I put up a help wanted sign! And my realtor saw it and told me she’d give me a discount if I would hire her nephew! So, I did! And she did! And now-” he cut himself off with a sob.

Tears filled his eyes. “Three hours away from Beacon Hills and I still can’t escape him.”

Stiles pressed his face against Derek’s shoulder and started shaking. For a moment Derek thought he was afraid before he heard a muffled snort and realized Stiles was just trying not to laugh.

“I’m glad you found your calling, sir.” Derek said, smiling stiffly.

Finstock looked up at him with haunted eyes. “I hate cabins.” He whispered, absently pushing his Santa hat up his forehead.

“How much for a night?” Derek asked loudly, avoiding eye contact.

Stiles couldn’t hold in his laugher anymore and bend over with it. Derek facepalmed.

Finstock glared at them and through gritted teeth said “Double.”

Derek silently pulled out his credit card.

“Can you believe that?” Stiles asked, stomping his feet to get the snow off them.

Derek shrugged. He was still reeling from meeting Greenberg, who had tried to carry their bags only to trip over his impractical elf shoes and fall head first in the snow. Derek had taken pity on him while Stiles laughed so hard he too had slipped in the snow.

“Poor Coach, I feel so sorry for him.”

“You know, he wasn’t like that at all when I was in high school.” Derek said, pulling his coat off and hanging it up to dry. He held his hand out and took Stiles’ coat too.

Stiles gave him a flirty smile before wandering off to look around the cabin.

It was small and cozy. Exposed wood and two large windows. It was one main room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. Derek liked it. It was beautiful, and Derek privately thought Finstock would have been better off just selling the cabins one by one instead of renting them. He made a mental note to leave that in the suggestion box before they left. Maybe it had just never occurred to the man that he didn’t need to keep them all…

Stiles whistled from the kitchen nook. “It’s fully stock!” he said gleefully.

That was a pleasant surprise. They only had road trip food in the car and there was no way in hell Derek was going back on the road to find a store.

“For the price it’d better be.” Derek grumbled as he went into the bedroom to look around.

Stiles followed him in. “I’ll pay half?” he asked hesitantly.

Derek absently waved him away. “It’s fine. I know you’re a poor librarian with student loans and more on the way.”

Stiles nervously bit his lip. “If you’re sure?”

“Yes Stiles, I’m sure. I should have pulled over sooner.”

Stiles blink at him in surprise. “Did you just admit you were wrong?”

Derek shrugged. “It’s been known to happen, shocking as that might seem.”

Stiles smiled softly at him for a moment before he turned his attention back to the room. He wandered over to the window on the far wall. “Wow, this place is really beautiful Der! Are you trying to woo me?” he asked, spinning around to grin at Derek.

Derek huffed. “We’re dating, I don’t have to woo you.”

Stiles gasped and collapsed onto the bed. “Dating two weeks and the romance is already dead !” he cried dramatically.

Derek laid down next to him. “Too bad for you.”

Stiles bounced up off the bed. “Fine!” he said, hands on his hips. “I’ll just have to be romantic enough for the both of us!” he took off out of the room.

Derek groaned and rolled over, kicking his shoes off and dragging a pillow over his face.

“Look Der-bear!” Stiles called excitedly.

Derek ignored him, too comfortable in the place between almost asleep and almost awake.

“Derek.” Stiles said in annoyance. “I made food.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Derek asked as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

Stiles was standing in the doorway holding a plate in each hand.

Now that Derek was more aware he realized something smelled amazing.

Stiles came over to the bed and carefully sat down. He held the plates out for Derek to hold so he could pull his feet up and lean against the headboard.

“It smells great.” Derek said, handing one of the plates back and pulling himself up next to Stiles.

“Thanks.” Stiles muttered, blushing. “Everything I needed for it was in the fridge so…” He shrugged awkwardly.

“What…is it?” Derek asked. It looked sort of like an omelet but not quite.

“Omelet sandwich.” Stiles said, happily picking it up off the plate.

Derek looked back down at the food and realized there was bread under the egg.

He carefully picked his own sandwich up and took a bite.

He hummed happily. “This is delicious. Thank you, Stiles.”

Stiles shrugged awkwardly.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Derek asked, “Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”

Stiles whipped around to glare at him. “Don’t you dare!” he yelled, waving the index finger of his free hand. “We’re adult like people Derek! We can share a bed without making it weird.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes and leaned in threateningly. “At least I can. Can you Derek?” he asked challengingly.

Derek put his hand on Stiles face and pushed him away. “Yes Stiles, I can share a bed.”

“We’ll just see about that won’t we Hale.”

After they had eaten what was technically considered lunch Derek built a fire and Stiles pulled out his laptop.

“I would say Netflix and chill but it’s a cliché and about the opposite of what I want right now.” Stiles said, settling down on the couch in front of the fireplace.

Derek sighed loudly. “I’m making a fire right now Stiles. Stop complaining.”

“I’ll stop complaining once it stops being freezing in here.” Stiles gave an exaggerated shiver as he sprawled himself out on the couch.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Stiles, there’s a heater on and a blanket across the back of the couch. You’re fine.”

“I’ll feel better once I’ve got a werewolf heater. They’re more reliable than the machine kind anyway.” Stiles muttered as he pulled the blanket over himself.

Derek blushed and pointedly kept his attention on the fire.

There were a few minutes of silence while they both concentrated on their very important tasks. And then Derek’s cell phone rang.

Satisfied that the fire was high enough to stick he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and looked down at caller id. He groaned. It was his mother.

“Who is it? Uncle Peter again?” Stiles asked.

Derek glanced up and saw Stiles bundled up with just his head peeking out of the blanket. Derek fought back a smirk at the sight.

“No. It’s my mom.” He glared down at the phone for a moment, debating if it was worth it to ignore her.  He decided it wasn’t. “Hello?” he answered reluctantly.

“Derek, sweetheart, it’s your mother.” Talia Hale answered, sounding just as chipper as she always did when they spoke on the phone.

“Hi, mom.” Derek said with a sigh.

“I was just wondering when you would be getting into town. I hear there’s quite the snowstorm coming in tonight.”

Derek pulled himself up from in front of the fireplace before throwing himself down next to Stiles on the couch. Stiles instantly wiggled closer and Derek absently wrapped his arm around Stiles shoulders.

“Yeah we got caught in it. We definitely won’t be making it home tonight.”

Talia was quite for a few moments. “We?” she asked hesitantly.

Derek went completely still. All week he’d had the strangest feeling he’d forgotten something. The feeling had been so bad he had unwrapped all the presents that he had bought just to make sure he’d gotten a present for every family member and that none of them had been mislabeled. He’d even gone so far as to buy gifts for Stiles’ family too. Nothing had made the feeling go away. Now he knew why.

He’d completely forgotten to tell his family he was dating someone.

“Yeah…” Derek said slowly. “You know. Me and my… boyfriend. Did I forget to mention that?”

Stiles groaned loudly and tipped his head towards the ceiling. ‘Why me?’ he mouthed. Derek fought back the urge to smack him.

“What was that?” Talia asked, sounding horrified.

“Just Stiles being Stiles mom.” Derek said in exasperation.

“What? Stiles? Why is Stiles there?”

“Because we’re dating.” Derek winced. He probably could have found a better way to say that.

Talia was quiet for a few moments before she sighed deeply. “Oh Derek. If you don’t want your family members to ask about your social life just tell us to stop and we will.”

Derek had asked them to stop. Several times in fact. None of them ever had. He grit his teeth in frustration. “You’re the one who insisted I bring someone home for the holidays.”

“Well, that’s true.” Talia said, sounding annoyed. “But I didn’t mean to put so much pressure on you to make you feel like you have to make something up to please me.”

For a moment Derek felt guilty for attempting to deceive his mother. But then she had to go and ruin the feeling by adding “Besides from what you’ve told me about Stiles he sounds like a terrible choice for a pretend boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?” Derek asked. He had to have heard her wrong.

“Well, you know.” Talia said slowly. “With how awkward you’ve said he is.”

Derek blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He felt Stiles start to shift away from him. He carefully pulled Stiles back, his hand slipping under the blanket to press against Stiles chest while Stiles slid into place along Derek’s side.

“He’d probably give the game away, sweetheart.” Talia said with a laugh.

Derek forced himself to loosen his grip on his phone, not wanting to break it in his anger. “There’s no game .”

Talia hummed. “Well the reason I called was to let you know that tomorrow we’re having a little get together with the Smith pack and I wanted you to pick up a present to give to Alisa, Alpha Smith’s daughter. I’m sure the two of you-”

Derek hung up on her. His phone started to ring again almost immediately. He turned it off and carefully sat it on the end table next to him.

He could feel Stiles breathing slow and deep under his hand. Derek shifted sideways on the couch, pressed his back against the armrest, and wrapped his free arm around Stiles’ waist. Stiles wiggled against him for a few seconds, trying to free his own arms, before Derek felt Stiles hand on his own. Stiles slotted their fingers together and Derek pressed his face against the back of Stiles’ neck.

He wanted to pretend his mother had never done anything like that before, but she had, and Derek was done with it. Had been done with it since he was sixteen and she’d tried to make him be ‘friends’ with Allison Argent, who had been ten at the time.

Stiles and Derek sat in silence for a few minutes before Stiles hesitantly asked “Wanna watch stupid werewolf holiday movies from Lifetime?”

“Okay.” Derek muttered against Stiles skin.

Stiles moved around some more poking and prodding Derek until he was completely laid out along the couch with Stiles sprawled out across him, the blanket pulled over them both, with Stiles’ laptop on the coffee table in front of them and the fire roaring pleasantly.

Stiles had set up a movie, but Derek didn’t pay any attention to it. He was far more interested in keeping himself calm. Stiles was being surprisingly helpful with that. All Derek could feel was the soft comfortable couch and Stiles. All he could smell was the fire and Stiles. All he could hear was the soft sound of the movie and Stiles’ heartbeat.

Derek nuzzled into Stiles’ hair and let himself completely relax.

The sound of a phone ringing jerked Derek out of his light doze. Stiles groaned loudly and sat up, managing to smack Derek in the face with his elbow in the process.

Sitting up on Derek’s legs Stiles reached over and picked his phone up from the coffee table. He sighed at it and glanced at Derek. “It’s my dad. Should I answer it, or have we had enough family drama for one day?”

Derek just shrugged. He’d never actually talked to Stiles’ dad before, but he’d heard plenty of stories. He wasn’t particularly worried. “It’s up to you.”

Stiles chewed on his lip for a moment before answering the phone. “Hey dad, what’s up?”

“Why did Talia Hale call me in a panic?” Sheriff Stilinski did not sound at all pleased. Derek and Stiles both winced.

“The reception out here is-” Stiles tried but the sheriff cut him off.

“You sound clear as a bell to me, just cut to the chase Stiles.”

Stiles glanced at Derek, who waved his hand feebly. “She and Derek had a fight, but she obviously didn’t realize it.”

The sheriff was quiet for a moment before he said, “She seems to be under the impression that you and Derek are pretending to date?”

Derek groaned. They hadn’t even gotten to Beacon Hills yet and already they’re plan was falling apart.

“We’re not pretending to date.” Stiles said petulantly.

The sheriff was quite for a moment before slowly saying “Uh-huh.”

“We’re not!” Stiles yelled, flailing his free arm out.

“Sure.” The Sheriff said.

“We’re totally real dating!”

“I believe you.”

“We’re cuddling on the couch right now !”

Derek hid his face against his arm in secondhand embarrassment.

“On which couch? I thought you were coming home for Christmas?”

Stiles winced. “Sorry I forgot to call. It’s a blizzard so Derek and I pulled over for the night.”

“I’m glad you guys decided not to drive in a blizzard. And please tell me you took his car and not yours?” the Sheriff asked pleadingly.

“E tu, father?” Stiles wailed.

The Sheriff chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He paused a moment before adding “Just keep me up to date and drive very carefully, Derek.”

Stiles pulled his phone away from his ear to blink at it. He turned and blinked at Derek. “Did I just get replaced by my own boyfriend?” Stiles asked, sounding baffled.

Derek sat up before he reached over and took the phone from Stiles. “I promise to get him home safely Sheriff Stilinski.”

“See that you do.” The Sheriff said firmly. “And I’ll call you mother back. Her worry over my son being a bad influence on you is obviously misplaced.”

Derek winced while Stiles went still against him. “Sorry about that sir, she’s a touch-”

“Controlling!” Stiles interrupted, pressing up against Derek’s chest to yell into the phone.

Derek glared at him while Stiles smiled innocently at him.

“Well, just have a pleasant evening. And text me your location so I know where to start looking in case you lose my son, Derek.” The Sheriff sounded nice enough, but Derek knew a treat when he heard one.

“Bye dad!” Stiles yelled as he took his phone out of Derek’s slack fingers.

Stiles made a noise of surprise before saying “Oh wow it’s getting late.” He glanced at Derek before asking “Dinner and then bed?”

Derek nodded and gently slid Stiles over so he could pull his legs free.

He checked the fire and saw that Stiles had obviously gotten up at some point to put more wood on it. Derek was quite surprised he hadn’t noticed Stiles getting up. He must have been more tired than he’d realized.

Satisfied the fire wouldn’t be going out any time soon Derek made his way over to the kitchen and started rummaging through the cupboards, looking for something to make them for dinner.

Stiles was leaning against the small kitchen island that separated the kitchen area and the living room while he glared at his phone. He seemed to be furiously texting. Derek eyed him for a moment, debating if he really wanted to know or not. Stiles caught him looking before he could ask.

Stiles smirked and held up the phone “Say cheese!” he said brightly.

Derek glared more out of habit than because he really minded if Stiles took his picture. Stiles looked at the picture and sighed deeply. “You could at least try to look like you don’t mind being around me…” he muttered.

Derek was surprised that Stiles sounded a little hurt. That wouldn’t do at all.

Derek took two long steps over to him and carefully took his phone. He flipped the camera to front facing and then pressed his mouth against Stiles cheek. He held the phone up and absently pressed his thumb to the shutter button. He pulled a bit away to see Stiles reaction, but Stiles was staring at him, mouth open and eyes wide in surprise.

“What?” Derek asked. “You’re allowed to kiss me, but I’m not allowed to kiss you?”

Stiles blinked several times before taking his phone out of Derek’s hand and placing it on the counter.

Stiles carefully and slowly raised his hands and cupped Derek’s face.

Derek’s heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest it was beating so hard. He realized there was only a few inches separating them and he could be kissing Stiles if he only tilted his head forward a little.

“Derek,” Stiles murmured, his eyes questioning. “Can I?”

Derek thought about how upset the both of them would be if they ruined their friendship. So far, they hadn’t done anything new. Other than two kisses on the cheek. If their relationship went farther than friends would they really be able to make it work? And then Derek realized they’d been dating for two weeks and they hadn’t even kissed yet. They’d done everything a couple would do; go out together, stay in together, cuddle just because they were in the same room together. And that wasn’t even counting that day. They’d done all of that earlier in the week. They’d even gone so far as to go Christmas shopping together for their mutual friends.

Fuck it , Derek thought. Stiles was right, they were adult like people. If this didn’t work out they could still be friends. Derek hoped it would work out.

Derek pressed forward, and his lips met Stiles’.

He felt Stiles relax against him as they kissed, just a gentle press of heat.

After a moment Derek pulled back to check Stiles’ reaction. His pupils were blown wide and his breathing had speed up. He looked up at Derek with his mouth hanging open temptingly.

“Question.” Stiles said, sounding a little breathless. “Can we please start dating now?”

Derek smirked at him. “I thought we were dating.” he said before grabbing Stiles’ ass and lifting him up to carry him into the bedroom.

Stiles squealed in surprise before wrapping his legs around Derek’s waist and his arms around Derek’s neck.

“Is that a yes?” Stiles asked through a laugh.

Derek gently dropped Stiles onto the bed and settled over him, hands on either side of his head and his knees cradling Stiles’ hips. “Yes Stiles, we can date. Now that you’ve finally asked me.”

The snow was falling heavily outside their little bubble of warmth and Derek suspected they were going to be a little late in showing up for Christmas. But Derek didn’t mind, he’d gotten a very interesting present he couldn’t wait to unwrap.

[alj4890]

Part 11

What happens when the one you thought you were meant for turns out to be meant for someone else?

@walkerinfolkvangr @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @fullbeaumonty @cocomaxley @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject   @krsnlove   @annekebbphotography @gibbles82   @bella-ca  

Masterlist

Part 11

"I can't believe you haven't seen this yet!" Addison exclaimed as she dragged Thomas down the hall.

"Amanda was afraid seeing it might affect my choice in casting the roles." He explained as he tried to keep up. "Slow down Addison! The portraits aren't going to disappear before we get there."

She slowed to a steady jog causing him to grumble. Addison grinned when his grumbling stopped at the sight of Amanda waiting in the gallery. He cleared his throat and walked over to her when she smiled at him. It thrilled her how happy the two were married.

Holly and Addison had arrived in Cordonia a couple of days after Thomas and Amanda returned from their honeymoon. The three Californians were all struck speechless over the gothic beauty of St. Orella. The pictures they had seen did not do the place justice. Though the outside facade seemed to harken to the days of Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey, the inside was warm and inviting with all the modern conveniences one could wish for.

While noticing all that the estate offered, the two also noticed how different Thomas and Amanda acted. They were not hiding the smiles or touches. Thomas still became a bit flustered if he caught them witnessing a tender moment, but he was not stopping any from happening. He in fact instigated many moments. The ladies nearly cheered at seeing the romantic gestures happening before their very eyes.

Holly hid her smile as Thomas wrapped his arm around his wife, softly asking her something that made her kiss his cheek. She exaggerated clearing her throat before directing his attention to the portraits. Thomas stepped forward with Amanda and studied the two that were the subject of the film that he would begin directing.

Duchess Elizabeth and Duke Reginald Wilbraham of St. Orella, on their wedding day, October 27, 1781.

He noticed the way Reginald was shown gazing down at his bride. Thomas knew the man had wanted this moment to be captured.

The painter had displayed the depth of love and adoration in Reginald's face. Elizabeth had a look of pure joy with her lips curved as if about to laugh. Her body was turned toward her new husband. Her hand was over his heart and covered by both of his.

Another painting showed the happy couple with their first born, Helena. Reginald had his arms around his wife and toddler. The last showed them with their three children: Helena, George, and Cora. Elizabeth and Reginald were shown in the last to be looking at each other as their children faced the painter. Once again, Elizabeth had her hand pressed to Reginald's heart.

"Ugh. They are so freaking sweet! I love seeing them so happy together in these paintings after all the uncertainty. With Elizabeth being in love with Arthur before meeting Reginald, knowing they ended up with the one they were made for makes this story so much better." Addison exclaimed.

"From both the journals they kept during their marriage, they were truly happy." Amanda replied while looking up at her ancestors.

"I wish we could see what Arthur looked like." Holly said as she stepped closer, studying Reginald's blonde hair and blue eyes.

Amanda pointed to a glass case holding several miniatures. "Arthur gave Elizabeth a small painting of himself when he left Cordonia after angering the queen."

Holly and Addison rushed over and gasped. "No wonder you recommended Ryan! They share many of the same features."

Thomas approached and immediately found the earl. He had to agree. Ryan looked like he could be a descendant of the late earl's. "Did he ever marry?" He asked.

"Yes, he eventually married a lady with a rather large dowry. They never had any children. His younger brother inherited the earldom and passed it on through his descendents."

While Thomas and Addison discussed speaking to Ryan about his hair style and facial hair, she walked down the gallery, toward the spot where her parents' wedding portrait hung. She looked up at them, remembering their laughter and joy in all they did.

Thomas wrapped his arms around her from behind. "You look like your mother but you have your father's smile and eye color."

She smiled and leaned her head back against him when he kissed her cheek. "My uncle used to say the same."

"When will your portrait be painted?" Addison asked as she stepped up beside them.

"They are typically painted on the wedding day. I suppose we should try and have it done before you start filming and the social season begins."

Thomas looked at the painting of Amanda when she was a little girl with her parents. He had never really thought about having children. He knew from this entire gallery that this was what was expected. An heir to continue the House of St. Orella would be something they would have to try for. Amanda had no family left to leave it to.

Holly's alarm on her phone went off. "Your meeting with Sir Francis will begin in fifteen minutes."

"We better go down to the study. I know he will have some papers for you to sign." Amanda moved out of his arms and laced her fingers with his. He walked with her ignoring the delighted smiles of the other two in the room.

"While the two of you have your meeting, I am going to draw up Elizabeth's wedding dress from the painting." Addison announced. Holly added that she would begin planning the schedule for the shoot.

Once they were alone in the downstairs study, Thomas pulled her into his arms. His lips caught hers in a kiss. She smiled when he lifted his head. "What was that for?"

"Do I need a reason?" He kissed her again, letting his lips move slowly over hers. His hands moved up her back while hers slipped around his neck. They were interrupted by a knock on the open door and a clearing of a throat.

"Sir Francis!" Amanda blushed and welcomed the lawyer that had handled her family's affairs for decades.

He bowed respectfully. "Your grace." He eyed Thomas suspiciously. Amanda introduced them and waved Sir Francis to a chair. "Please make yourself comfortable."

He opened his briefcase and pulled the documents out. He began explaining what each was signing while going into detail what all was expected from Thomas now that he was a duke.

"Your conduct needs to remain above reproach. Scandals do not need to be associated with the duchy and crown."

"No worries there." Amanda replied with a smile. "Thomas is one of the most decent men I know."

Sir Francis continued to frown. "What are your plans concerning your former lifestyle?"

"Former lifestyle?" Thomas asked.

"Your film career. You are leaving that behind, aren't you?"

Thomas and Amanda stared at him in surprise. "I had no plans to." He finally said.

"You are the Duke of St. Orella. That position should supersede all others. You will have very little time to run about with a camera."

"Sir Francis," Amanda began calmly while placing a hand on the man next to her who was getting angrier by the moment. "I am able to handle the duchy on my own. Thomas does not need to forgo his career unless he wishes to. I know he will assist me in any capacity I need."

The lawyer's expression showed his complete disapproval. He handed Thomas another set of documents to sign. "These concern any heirs you may have."

Thomas read over the legal jargon and asked questions. Somehow his inquiries seemed to irritate Sir Francis more than his film career.

"If something were to happen and you divorced Lady Amanda or she were to die, then you would have no claim on the duchy or her estates if there were any children. This is to insure the line of succession, especially if you were to remarry. You and your new family would not be able to claim this property from the true heirs."

Thomas nodded. "I agree with all of that, but it is clause eight I am having trouble with. If Amanda died, I am unable to take our children out of Cordonia?"

"You can take them on visits to America and anywhere you deem fit for vacations. Yet, they must reside in Cordonia."

"What if I see a reason for us to move back to the States?" Thomas had a hard enough time picturing the mythical heirs much less not having a say where they lived.

"This is highly unorthodox." Sir Francis muttered. "I have never had a noble ask such a question."

"Sir Francis!" Amanda reprimanded.

He apologized quickly. "You would have to gain the King's permission to relocate with the children. If you needed to live somewhere else, then you could go while the children became wards of the monarchy."

Thomas glared at the lawyer. Once again, Amanda stepped in. "Liam would never refuse to let you take our child to America if you saw a reason to do so. All I ask is that you show them their inheritance one day."

He was no match against her when she pleaded with her eyes. He quickly signed the documents and listened silently to the lawyer's continuation of what was expected out of him. Once Amanda finished signing the documents required for her dual citizenship, Sir Francis left with another bow.

Thomas tapped the pen against his leg while he tried to comprehend all the new changes. He had never really thought of Amanda's nobility and all that was expected of her and now him. She never acted different from anyone, thus he never considered how different his life might be when married to a duchess.

Amanda turned toward him and placed her arm along the back of the sofa. "Thomas? You do know that I don't expect you to give up the life you have?" Her fingers brushed against the back of his neck.

"It seems there is more to this than I thought." He stood up and walked over to the window to compartmentalize the vast amount of knowledge the lawyer had sprung on him. He rubbed the tense muscles in the back of his neck. Amanda could practically feel the dreaded thought creeping into her mind: He regrets our impulsive marriage.

She forced herself to walk over so she could see his face. "If all of this is too much or more than you want, then I will understand if you want to divorce once the social season is done."

"What?" He practically yelled. She had never heard him raise his voice and stared wide eyed at him.

"I don't want you to resent me for adding all these unexpected, um, for lack of a better term, expectations." She folded her arms and looked down at the floor. "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. I don't expect you to attend court events with me and such. I would love to have you with me, but I won't make you feel guilty over it. I won't be the first lady to be without a spouse to escort her. You can remain in California, if you want. I can live there too and return here when needed, that is if you...still...want me to." She wished she had never agreed to his idea to keep her from becoming Liam's suitor. It ended up being unfair to him and it made her feel horrible.

Thomas stared at her while trying to get his temper under control. She looked up at him and apologized, causing his anger to nearly consume him.

"I'm sorry I did not have us come here first before...before we decided to try and have a real marriage. You would have then had all the facts so that you could decide whether or not you wanted me."

He could taste blood in his mouth from biting his tongue to keep from yelling at her. Thomas needed her to stop talking.

"I don't want you to remain married to me out of some obligation. I won't hold you to the promises you made in Paris. I will make sure that nothing is taken from you in the div--"

"Enough!" His voice was dangerously low. She took a reflexive step back. He advanced on her until she bumped into a wall.

"I do NOT see you as an obligation. Even if we had come here before Paris, I would still have pursued you. I would be unable to stop it from happening." She felt a bit of a fluttering in her stomach at hearing him admit that he wouldn't have been able to help himself.

"I am sure that over time, all of this will seem second nature. We will try and make a plan of dividing our time between California and here. I will attend as many events as I can with you." His dark eyes searched hers for a moment. "I do not want you mentioning the word divorce again unless it is something you want. I told you in Tahoe, Paris, and here. I want this marriage. I love you. I am not one who speaks that phrase haphazardly."

He reached out and took her hand. "Are you regretting you decision to marry an American? One who never thought of the responsibility a title carries?"

"No! Of course not!" She moved into his arms. "I love you, Thomas." She pulled his head down and kissed him. His anger and worry made the kiss have an edge to it while he moved his lips over hers, as if it were his last chance.

He led her to the couch and continued the kiss as she landed in his lap. His hands slipped under her shirt, tracing up her back. She moaned as his lips moved down her neck.

"OH!"

They froze and looked at the door that was suddenly opened. Thomas thought the man looked familiar. He seemed both embarrassed and somewhat angry at seeing the two of them entwined.

"Maxwell!"

Thomas stared at her as she quickly got up and straightened her shirt. He stood up when she pulled on his hand. "Thomas, this is Maxwell Beaumont, one of my oldest friends. Maxwell, this is my--"

"Yes, I know who he is." Maxwell interrupted.

His sarcastic tone caught her off guard. Thomas shook Maxwell's hand. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Funny," Maxwell began. "She hardly mentioned anything about you."

"Maxwell! That's not true! I did say a lot--"

"About work. Nothing about him personally." He interrupted.

Amanda's cheeks darkened. "That was because I thought I should not have feelings developing. I was in denial..." Her voice trailed off as she thought of how strong her feelings grew over time.

Thomas placed his arm around shoulders. "We both were." He said softly as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

Maxwell shoved his hands in his pockets and watched them closely. "Yeah well, I didn't come here to discuss your lack of communication with the one you call your best friend."

Amanda stiffened at his words. She decided to be the decent one of the two and not give the angry retort she had burning on her tongue. "Then what did you come for?"

"Nadia sent me here to ask you to dinner."

"That's sweet of her. When does she want us to get together?"

"Not 'us'." Maxwell corrected. "She wants me and you to go to dinner alone and fix our friendship."