#but when books came out i inevitably ended up engaging with the not-so-great parts of fandom and uh. it's amazing how a series

[unnecessarilygrandiose]

randomly remembered the fandom wide disappointment after mister impossible came out and started laughing bc what was that even about. every single post i saw from somebody who didn't like the book was like 'but what about adam' and don't get me wrong i love adam he's my favourite but also why did people expect him to be there? he is not the main character of the trilogy. ronan and hennessy are. but then again there were also some people on the other end of the spectrum who were like 'oh but the book totally sufered middle book syndrome and the plot didn't progress at all in a meaningful way, adam's two minute appearance was the only saving grace' and my dudes. my guys. what

[aubreyprc]

voicemail

summary - emily gets in a plane crash. she leaves hotch a voicemail. season 7. after hit and run.

dialogue prompt given - ‘i was happier with you’ (this fic/idea was already in the works but i thought that line worked so well in it that i had to add it!)

word count - 4.4k

-

He watches the phone ring, her name flashing up brightly. There’s a twist in his gut, a tight pain in his chest as he chooses to ignore it, to hold Beth closer to him as he turns away from phone, can see in the corner of his eye as it stops ringing and he forces himself to relax. The voicemail signal pops up not three minutes later and he frowns, reaching for it, but then Beth holds her hand out, a smirk on her face as she reminds him off his promise of one more dance before it inevitably gets too late to keep Jack up and the voicemail is forgotten, his phone pinging with a second voicemail just as he walks off with another woman in his arms.

It’s the first and only time he’ll ever ignore a call from her again, not only because of the guilt that follows, but because she will never call again, he’ll never have the option to take her call, to hear her voice, they will never have that final conversation they both deserved because she is dead. The last thing remaining of her being the two voicemails on his phone, his only remaining emotions guilt, regret and complete devastation.

Emily Prentiss died, and he ignored her final call.

It’s not that she expected things to be the same when she returned from Paris, she knew she hurt him, all of them, but him… him she knew she hurt the most. Because it was him who she cut off, it was him who she cancelled dinner with on numerous occasions, a string of lame excuses she knew he would never believe and it was him who she had loved, it was him who had loved her and it was them that she knew would be the biggest obstacle in her return, it was him she would struggle the most to gain back any sort of relationship with and she knew this from the moment she stepped foot back in the BAU, back into her family, prepared herself for the cold shoulder or harsh words, ready for the arguments and she was willing to fight for them, to fight for what they were just eight months ago.

She didn’t expect things to be the same.

Bu what she also didn’t expect was for him to completely switch, the cold shoulder she was ready for feeling more like ice than a heavy breeze, his harsh words more brutal than everything she ever thought he would direct at her or anyone, and his reluctance to engage with her in any form leaving her hopes for a slow but steady return to what they had been building snapping in half, the arguments she was ready to have to fight for him seeming pointless as he continues to pull away from her and when she overhears his conversation with Dave about a certain brunette he had lunch with, her heart cracks in half and she curses herself for even thinking he would want her back, would want to fight for them, for her and any she realises any hopes she had for them died along side her in that cold hospital room in Bethesda… she thinks maybe things would have worked out better for all of them if she had.

She decides to leave the moment Clyde calls her. Takes the opportunity the second it’s handed to her and the feeling of relief that washes over her when the plane ticket is forwarded to her, is when she accepts that this is her new chapter, that coming back to DC and staying was a mistake, that what was broken when she took herself off to Boston to save them will never mend. It didn’t matter that she did it to keep them safe, the bond they all shared was severed and she never truly felt like she belonged.

She took it upon herself to decline team nights after never feeling a part of it and smiling to herself sadly when it was obvious they did, as she assumed, have a better time without her there, she accepted that her and Aaron were never going to be the same and knew that it had to be her that built that distance, accepting the burden that came with it. The pain in her chest that lingers when she watches him and Beth one that she lives with, one that she knows she has to get away from and as she watches the team at JJ’s wedding, each of them in their own little circle, their laughs echoing around the garden, their smiles bright, her absence unnoticed, she takes herself inside, and confirms her flight, wiping her tears as she reads Clyde’s message.

‘I will pick you up from the airport. Welcome home.’

It’s with a sick feeling that she discovers her home was with them, her home once again somewhere she felt unwelcome, unwanted and alone, and holds back her tears, preparing herself for once again needing to rebuild her life elsewhere because she had ruined the only home she ever had.

The goodbyes felt bittersweet, her need to be somewhere new clashing with her heartbreak over leaving.

She wipes Penelope’s tears as she wishes her good luck, makes promises to visit her as soon as she settles and Emily simply smiles, not allowing herself to believe them.

She holds JJ close as the blonde woman whispers words of love, wishing her the best before smiling, her own tears being held back as she says her goodbyes.

Derek holds her so tight she wonders for a moment if this is the right thing, that if leaving them is what she needs, but then he nods, a small smile on his face and she understands that he agrees with her, that this is good, for her and for them, and she swallows the lump in her throat before smiling back.

Dave kisses both of her cheeks and holds her face, telling her she will do great things and makes her promise to call him once a week, she agrees, all while wondering how long it would be before he simply stopped answering.

Reid cries, his head buried in her neck as he tells her he’ll miss her, that he’ll call her all the time and that he’ll send her books and movies he enjoys, wanting her to enjoy them to. She cups his face, wipes his tears and tells him she can’t wait, that he can call anytime, she knows he won’t.

Aaron simply stands, watching as she says her goodbyes and as she pulls away from Reid, their eyes meet over his shoulder and he looks away, making no attempt to say his farewells and she looks down, clearing her throat before she smiles, looking back at the team.

She can see them watching the car drive down the road, watches as they disburse, each of them moving on from her and she smiles, their family a unit once again.

She boards the plane with a heavy heart, a dull ache in her chest and a feeling in her gut that she tells herself is just nerves, just upset. Her gut tightens as she takes her seat and she has to force herself to breathe, has to close her eyes as fear and some unknown feeling washes over her and she almost stands, almost gets off the plane, but then the doors shut and the lights dim and she forces herself to relax, leaning her head back on the seat as she taps her phone on her leg, pushing down the unknown feeling she’s left with as the plane starts to roll forward on the path. She looks out of the window, watching as the plane speeds down the runaway and as the plane heads off, she closes the shutter, refusing to watch as she leaves D.C behind for the second and final time.

It nags at him for hours, how he didn't say goodbye to her, how he let her leave without so much as a small acknowledgement, how he allowed his love for her to be brought out with hate, with dismissiveness, with anger and betrayal and he hates even more that it didn't even work, that he is still as much in love with her now as he was last year, maybe more so, and that watching her leave again was far too painful, feeling that letting her go without a goodbye would save them the heartache and the inevitable argument they'd been avoiding since her return.

He regrets it the moment the car drives away from Dave's house, regrets it the moment she is gone, it's his regret that has him watch the phone as it rings, her name flashing up along with the picture he'd never had the heart to change, a picture of them just last year, one Jack had taken (albeit badly) of the two of them as they sat on the couch in his apartment, her smile so bright he remembers staring at it for day's, mesmerised by the sight of it, can still here their laughs as the picture was taken. Can still feel the touch of her hand in his and he hates it, hates how close they were to having everything, hates how quickly it was broken... he hates that he hates her almost as much as he loves her, hates that he blames her for ruining them... he hates himself too.

It's easier to ignore the call, than to hear her voice, knowing how heartbroken they both are, knowing that the conversation wont make them feel better, not over the phone. Its easier to hold Beth closer, a woman with no past, with no complications, someone easy and nice. Its easier to be led away by her than to listen to the voicemail, to hear just how hurt she is knowing its his fault, knowing that their goodbye will for now be unsaid, but knowing he will call her, he has to, he loves her, that can not be ignored.

It happens pretty quickly, but also not quick enough.

It's barley been two hours, can still see most of the views even from their height and they're not even out of America when the plane starts to jump. Turbulence, the pilot had said, but it does not relax her at all, not when the flight attendants look at each other with horror, not when the seatbelt sign pings on, and certainly not when the plane jolts so badly it drops almost two feet, and then the oxygen masks fall. It's not even five minuets later when the turbulence turns to complications, that its announced that the pilots can not control the plane, that they are dropping, that this is it, and she laughs, she has to, because of course it ends like this. Of course it does.

There's a woman behind her on the phone to her parents, another on the phone to their wife, one is telling his children he loves them and another is silently saying a prayer, gripping onto the seats for dear life hoping maybe, it will save her.

She stares at her phone in her hand, her contact list full of names, but no one who she thinks she could call right now, no one who she has to say goodbye to, no one who will answer, no one who will care.

His name is the first one that pops into her head, her need to tell him everything overwhelming when she accepts that she is going to die here. now. and she refuses to die with regrets again, refuses to die with the three words she wants him to know more than anything dying with her for the second time and she refuses to regret him, she can’t. she won’t.

The ring tone feels like its screaming down her ear, her stomach in knots as the plane continues to jolt violently, the shouts, screams and cries of those around her almost deafening and she knows he won’t answer, (all of her wishes he would).

Her first voice mail is made out of fear, her voice shaky and soft as she tries to block out the screams of the young girls behind her, the cries of the women who sob for their children.

She runs out of time, and she laughs at herself because, everything she just said was pointless, her heart still filled with regret as it’s not until the plane drops so violently that the sound of the wing falling off sounds like a siren, the he plane starting to drop quickly and sideways that she calls again, this time determined to tell him what she has been meaning to for months, even though she knows how unfair it is.

By the time the voicemail runs out of time, she’s crying, tears falling from her eyes, her last breath more of a whisper as she drops the phone to the ground, places her ID badge in her back pocket, knowing if by some miracle, their bodies are found, someone will find comfort in knowing it’s her. Maybe her mother, maybe her friends she left behind, someone will, she knows that.

A woman grabs her hand and she looks to her left.

“Two women alone, neither of us should die that way.” she says to her and Emily smiles, taking the woman’s hand in her own. “see you on the other side.” she whispers, and it’s the last thing she hears before she’s gone.

It happened pretty quickly. But not quickly enough.

A plane crash is big news on any day, a plane crash with the theory of insider terrorism is even bigger.

It’s reported eighteen minutes after it happened.

The FBI is called twenty two minutes after it happened.

The BAU and Counter Terrorism are brought in twenty eight minutes after it happened.

JJ’s phone rings thirty two minutes after it happens.

Her heart snaps in half thirty four minutes after it happens.

“What was Emily’s flight number?” she asks walking back into the garden, the entire team sat around the table frown at her.

“4403 to London, why?” Reid asks, the woman drops her head, sure she would have dropped to the floor is Will hadn’t been standing next to her.

“Her plane went down. No survivors. The theory is insider terrorism.” she explains sadly.

They find out Emily died thirty seven minutes after it happened.

Aarons heart breaks thirty eight minutes after it happens. His world stops spinning thirty nine minutes after it happened. He remembers her calling him forty minutes after it happened.

“We’re on the case?” Dave asks, already standing when JJ nods. The team following behind him.

“I’ll take Jack home, okay?” Beth says to him, bringing him out of his thoughts and he simply nods, standing, running on auto pilot.

He forgets about the voicemails as soon as he enters the building, fifty four minutes after it happened.

“These are the pictures of all passengers. One of them was in on it. We need to find out who. BAU you’re not here to investigate.. you’re here to rule out one of your own.” a man says as they enter the room, her picture flashes up on the screen and Aaron feels sick, his mind running back to Ian Doyle and Boston and that horrible hospital in Bethesda and … yet this time it’s real. This time she truly is gone.

“Emily Prentiss,” they say, “ex CIA, ex FBI, on her way to run a Interpol office in London.”

“She wasn’t in on this,” Reid says as he stares at her picture.

“That’s what you’re here to rule out.” they say, “Agent Hotchner,” the man looks up, once again snapped from this memories of her, of them. “We’ll talk to you first.”

They rule her out all but immediately, no sign of anything found on the devices of hers they had access to, and the team find themselves more involved with the case as they had thought, access to all files of the passengers, building profiles. Yet all Aaron can stare at is hers, her picture staring right back it him, her eyes so full of life, a picture taken just a year ago when they renewed their badges, there is a look of love in her eyes that he knows was meant for him and it has his stomach turning, with just how quickly everything changed, with so much regret for not fighting for her when he had the change, with so much pain that he once again lost the woman he loved, the woman he once saw forever with, and it was once again his fault.

She was only on the plane because of him.

Only moving to London because of him.

She is only dead because of him.

Just like his mother. Just like Haley. Emily now victim number three of the curse of loving him, of being loved by him, of being hurt because of him.

“Hotch,” Dave says as he taps the man on the shoulder and he clears his throat.

“Yes?” he says, turning to face the older man and the look on his face makes him nauseous, the pain, the heartache, the pity

“We’re done here.” he tells him, “we need to go home. We need to grieve.”

“We need to—”

“Emily is dead, Aaron.” he tells him, “she’s dead.” he says again, finality in his tone, as if he is trying to make him understand. “They’re actively searching for bodies, no luck yet. She’s dead, and we need to go home and we need to accept that. We need to grieve.”

“She… I—”

“I know,” he says sadly, “go home.” the older man tells him and he nods, clearing his throat as he looks to the team, each one of them wiping their tears as they pack their bags, Reid held closely into Morgan’s arms, the genius once again grieving for his friend, his sister, the older man once again grieving his best friend, his partner. JJ takes hold of Garcia’s hand as they head out, the women a duo once again, a space in the middle of them where the love of his life used to stand.

The love of his life he realises sadly as he looks down, because that’s what she was, never a love like it before, never one since. He doesn’t see how their could be.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Agents” a man says as he looks at Aaron, a sad smile on his face before he walks away.

“Go,” Dave says, “I’ll drive.”

“No,” he declines, “I need to be alone.” he tells his oldest friend, and he nods, watching him walk out.

He stares at the nothing as he parks in front of his house, his mind playing moments with her over and over again. He can still hear her laugh, can see her smile, can feel her touch on his skin and he wonders just how long it will be until he forgets.

He never wants to forget.

He walks into his apartment aimlessly, throwing his suit jacket onto the couch as he sighs, his whole body heavy as he grieves for her, not allowing himself to cry, he has no right.. this is his fault.

He remembers how he’d treated her, how cold and hostile he’d been, how cruel… and he wants to be sick, wishes he could take it back, hold her in his arms one more time and tell her he loved her.

It hits him like a harsh slap, when he remembers that he’d not even said goodbye to her, had let her leave without so much as a smile in her direction, had let her go thinking he hated her and he knows that will follow him forever, knows he’ll regret a lot of things, but her, how he’d treated her, he knows is something he’ll never forgive himself for.

The sound of his phone grabs his attention and he sighs, pulling it from his pocket. Beth’s name popping up and he swallows, taking a deep breath before accepting the call.

“Hey,” her voice is soft, light… he wonders why he doesn’t find it soothing. “I took Jack back to my place. Thought you could use the time alone…”

“Thank you,” he tells her, his voice hoarse.

“Do you want to talk?” she asks delicately.

“Tomorrow…” he tells her, “Not now… I can’t right now.”

“Okay,” she says gently, “try and get some rest.”

“I will, bye.” he says and ends the call before she says anymore, unable to even hear the words fall from her mouth.

It’s as he stares at the four notifications on his phone that he remembers.

He remembers watching her name pop up, her picture behind it, he remembers ignoring it, holding another woman closer, he remembers the confusion when she left a voicemail, remembers going to grab it before he was whisked away by Beth.

He remembers she left him a voicemail four hours and eight minutes after it happened.

He listens to them four hours and ten minutes after it happened.

*Hey, its me.” she says, she sounds calm, he notes, and his heart hammers in his chest as he drops to the couch. “I erm..” she pauses, the sound of her taking a breath hitting his ear and he closes his eyes, clenching his jaw. “I… I don’t know why I’m calling…” she laughs and he rolls his lips, the sound of her laughter something he used to love… used to crave. “I guess I was hoping you would answer? I’m not sure what I even would have said if you did.” hatred for himself builds up as he remembers ignoring her call, knowing now why she wanted to talk to him. Knowing now it was his last chance. “I guess I just wanted to tell you that I get it. I understand why you hate me… I understand why you’re distant and I don’t blame you. If the roles were reversed, I don’t know.. maybe I would have acted the same way.” she tells him, but they both know she wouldn’t have. Her actions after Foyet proved that. There’s a loud crash down the phone and he jumps, her heavy breathing sending shivers down her spine and he’s overtaken by horror as he wonders if her death was painful, if she was hurt, he hopes it was instant. That she didn’t feel it. “Funny thing, turns out I got on the wrong plane,” she laughs, finding humour in her situation, and he laughs too, because she always did make him laugh, no mater what was happening. “I… guess I just wanted to talk to you .. but you’re not here so.. Yeah.” she pauses, “don’t let the team grief for too long, okay? Tell them I wouldn’t want that, because I don’t. They grieved for me once, they shouldn’t have to again.” she’s holding back tears now, he knows, can hear it in her voice and it has his chest tightening. “Aaron.. I—” she says, before there’s a loud scream, not from her, but from someone near her, and she gasps a breath, then it��s over, silence on the other end, her voice gone, and he pulls the phone from his ear.

There’s another one, he realises, and he swallows before he clicks it.

“I always thought we were it, you know?” she starts, and he swears his heart stops, his body lunging forward as his eyes widen. “That everything would work out and that we would be.. us, again.” She takes a breath, one of her last, “I understand why we couldn’t be, I understand why you acted the way you did, I do… but I can’t say that it didn’t hurt, it did. I told myself when I got back from Paris, that I would tell you, that I would lay it all on the table and let you decide and I would know, even if it wasn’t the answer I wanted, that you knew, that I told you and that I could get rid of that regret… but I didn’t. And I can’t.. I cant die with this on my chest again. It’s selfish, and it’s cruel and I know you’re with Beth and i know you're happy but,”  she takes another breath and he closes his eyes, “I was happier with you.” she says, her voice cracking, “ And it’s not fair, I know, but…” she pauses, he can imagine her closing her eyes, can hear the breath she takes, “Aaron, I love you.” she tells him and he feels his heart crumble to pieces in his chest, can feel the world stop. “I have loved you for… years, I think,” she laughs. “It’s not fair that I’m telling you this now, I know. I get that you hate me and I understand and I’m sorry, I'm sorry that I'm telling you now and not before and I’m sorry I couldn’t be the person you deserve and I’m sorry for… for everything. But I’m not sorry for loving you, I’m not sorry for that year we had together, and I hope you’re not either. I hope that that’s what you remember about me, about us. I hope that’s what you carry with you. I was happier with you, happier than I’ve ever been.” she says, and she’s crying, he knows she is, he is too. “I love you. And I’m sorry.” she tells him once again, and then again, there’s nothing. It’s over.

No more voicemails.

No more her.

No more anything.

He throws his phone at the wall, anger coming out his veins as he shouts, shaking as he stands, grabbing his glass of whiskey, before he throws that too, overwhelmed as he hears her saying I love you again and again.

He drops to the floor with a sob, heartbroken, grief ridden.. broken.

If he’d of answered the phone, he’d of been able to tell her he loves her too. She’d of not died thinking he hated her, she would have died knowing she was loved, by him, by everyone.

If he had been honest with her from the start, she’d still be here, wrapped in his arms.

Emily Prentiss died, and he ignored her final call, and he will never be given the option to tell her that he loves her too.

[bookshop]

i recently came across defining draco malfoy (in case you dont remember, its a piece from 2004 on livejournal written for idol-reflection i believe). and can i just say, this is probably my favorite hp essay? i read a lot of hp essays, and love a lot of them (some more now as im desperately searching the internet for the ‘fandom resources’ linked at the bottom, because some of the links are broken).

anyway, you might not see this because it doesnt seem like youve been active in a bit, or maybe youre just not at all interested in harry potter and don’t really care (or maybe youre the wrong person, and are currently Very Confused). but, do you agree with everything you said in your essay, in retrospect? is there anything you would change, given the chance to re-do it? thx <3

Haha, this is actually pretty wild because a) i am the right person and b) i've just in the last 3 weeks kinda fallen into one of those periodic H/D fanfic rereading binges I go into once every 6 or 7 years, so your timing is great.

Back in my HP fandom heyday I also read a lot of HP essays, so i'm really very flattered to get this comment. My essay (which is also on AO3, currently locked to users) was written before book 6, and while for obvious painful reasons i haven't reread it lately and won't be rereading it, i still remember the feeling of reading it for the first time, almost breathless at how much of the fandom's ideas on Draco were being validated through that book. Rereading the essay now, I was spot-on pointing out that "Draco’s biggest moments in the books are all defined by a lack of action," considering his climactic moment is his inability to kill Dumbledore.

It's clear, too, that I gave JKR far more credit for wanting to deconstruct her own established ideas about Slytherin than she deserved; I like many fans was hugely let down by her lack of real engagement in book 7 with the portrayal of Slytherin as the blanket catch-all house for Evil Children, and of course the way she treated Draco in the end was part of that. I still think it's utterly laughable, if not contemptible, that she began the story stating that all four houses needed to unite, and then ended up with every single Slytherin walking out to join Voldemort, lolol fuck her. 😂 I think, for me, that was the single biggest cop-out (among many) in the final book, because she did so much in book 6 to complicate Draco's identity and give him the possibility of redemption only to half-assedly throw it away in book 7, forget about him and every other Slytherin Harry's age, and revert to using him for plot expediencies. Just hugely disappointing.

i'm sure i probably wrote some gushing triumphant meta about draco on my LJ after book 6 came out. In retrospect, i'm not really fond of my general reaction to book 7 — it was posted very soon after i'd finished reading it, and i was running on the fumes of fannish enthusiasm. but i had been yelling for years at that point about JKR's maltreatment of Slytherin, so it occupied a lot of my attention in that review. It still does, honestly; i see Rowling's complete disinterest in deconstructing Slytherin's ideology and place within the rest of the wizarding world — her continuing to frame the entire house as a bunch of racist, power-hungry supremacists, while also still allowing all of the racists to resume their place in society after the war is over as though nothing much had changed — as a huge rosetta stone for what we now know is her larger pernicious position of centrist ambivalence. She was ultimately fine with Draco and his entire house being bigots, because in her ultimate worldview, a little bit of bigotry in the world is inevitable and ineradicable. Why bother trying? Why bother freeing the house elves? Why bother finding one non-racist Slytherin, much less, idk, opening Slytherin to Muggleborns who aren't shamefully hiding their identities? Why bother tearing down and rebuilding when you can just sloppily pave over and call it reformation and change?

Ugh, idk why I'm even bothering trying to explicate the mind of a disgusting bigot. Go read lettered's By the Grace instead of Harry Potter:

“Of course,” Bickford went on, “we will replant.”

“No,” said Kavika, “we won’t. If that tree was a symbol of this institution, does not the fact that a person was trapped inside of it for a millennia suggest that something is deeply troubled within the institution itself? The tree should not be replanted; the rot of it should be remembered and honoured.”

“Reveal will happen soon, and everything will change anyway.” Bickford’s voice was plaintive. “Can we not have just one thing remain the same?”

“No,” said Harry. “Kavika is right. And you’re right as well, Mister Bickford. Everything is changing.”

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Roman Holiday: A Review

Hello, everyone, and welcome to my review of RWBY: Roman Holiday by E.C. Myers! Given my tendency to discuss this franchise at great length, I thought I'd start with a tl;dr section for those who might just want my general takeaway, not a deep dive into some of the novel's specific flaws and strengths. So with that in mind... 

Did you like the book?

I did! Let me put it like this. I'm incredibly critical of any RWBY material nowadays, I haven't had the energy to read #realbooks for a while, and I still managed to finish this in five days, even while stopping every few pages to take notes. So it was entertaining enough to hold my attention, unlike Before the Dawn. Is it a perfect novel worthy of nothing but endless praise? No and I'll delve into the many problems below. But is it also one of the better RWBY installments I've engaged with lately, including recent Volumes of the webseries? Yeah. If you're still emotionally attached to the show or these characters, I recommend giving it a try for the sake of nostalgia. 

But isn't there a bunch of creepy stuff in it? Didn't Myers turn Roman into a pedophile? 

No, he didn't. As I suspected, the rumors that we've been hearing lately probably came about from taking certain moments out of context, or by blowing up some pretty minor implications, or by straight up reading interactions between an adult and a minor in very bad faith. Purity culture and a desire to drag RWBY combining to create an argument that, frankly, isn't supported by the text. Are there jokes and interactions that some readers might find uncomfortable? Yes, but it’s no worse than what RWBY has already established as a canonical part of their world and writing style. See: Yang's interactions with Junior in her Yellow Trailer. If you're a fan of Roman and have held off only because you're convinced the novel ruined his character, I personally don't think that's the case. Breathe easy. 

I'm still worried about how the novel treats disability though. Specifically Neo's muteness. 

I was too, but I'm happy to report it's a pretty tame portrayal. If anything, I have more to say about the intersection between Neo's semblance and her sense of identity. Suffice to say though, Neo never speaks in the novel, there's no ridiculous reason why she can't speak (no reason is given at all, it’s simply a part of her), and only the bad guys pressure her into talking. Meaning, the bad guys from her and Roman’s perspective. Obviously she and Roman are both villains in the RWBY world, but when it comes to respecting each other's needs they're definitely, comparatively better than the rest of the cast. 

So there were no problems? 

Oh no, there are definitely problems lol. Let's just say they're not offensive enough to bother the average RWBY fan. At least, most of them (probably) aren't. If you're not neck deep in the franchise's struggles and actively thinking about how this novel does (or does not) fit into the larger RWBY-mythos, there's a very good chance you'll like the book, passing over everything I’m about to mention without a backwards glance. Hell, even if you're looking for problems there's a good chance you'll enjoy a lot of other aspects, just like I did. So I recommend taking a chance on the book far more than I recommend steering clear on principal alone. 

Okay, with that out of the way it's time to dive into the nitty-gritty!  

FYI I'm pulling my quotations from the paperback edition and, as is probably already obvious, this is not a spoiler free review. So tread carefully!  

Part One: An Imbalance of Protagonists

Would you like RWBY: Roman Holiday? Well, that might depend largely on which of its main characters you're most interested in. If it's Roman, you may be disappointed, despite the fact that the book is evenly divided between his and Neo's perspectives. This is, fundamentally, a book about Neo. She is the one undergoing all the character development. She is the one who is driving the plot. Roman just sort of exists within a criminal status quo until he bumps into her — almost exactly halfway through the novel's 308 pages — and then becomes caught up in her training, her desire to concoct new schemes, and eventually her family's problems. I don't want to make it sound like Roman is unimportant to the book, he's obviously there and he does things, but we're not given the same level of insight into him like we are Neo.  Frankly, I can think of only two significant revelations, both of which we might have easily guessed based on Roman's established characteristics: his mother abandoned him when he was a kid and he once worked for one of the main crime bosses in Mistrial, specifically Lil' Miss Malachite. Otherwise, everything Roman does and experiences is precisely the sort of stuff we saw him do and experience in the webseries. He commits petty crimes, fights people with his cane, and does it all with a dramatic flare which, notably, Myers writes quite well. 

This lack of impact on the story seems to stem from two decisions. First, Myers never jumps forward or backwards in time (with the exception of two small scenes that explain how characters got to a point we saw in the last scene/chapter). Though this definitely helps to keep things from getting confusing, it means that we never go farther back than Neo at 8 years of age and we're always looking at what both characters are up to at the same point in time. Given that Roman is a decade older than Neo, this means that, unlike her, we never get peek into his childhood. When she's 8 he's 18, already an adult and committing crimes in Mistral. A lot of Neo's development is inevitable, just by virtue of starting her story so young. She has to mature, develop her semblance, go to school, try various ways of being independent for the first time... Roman gets none of that. He's an adult when we meet him, his character fully formed and, since we already know that character from the webseries, we're given no new insight into him or how he developed that identity, just a reconfirmation that it exists. 

More of an issue though is that Roman isn't allowed an arc over the course of the novel. The man we meet on page 9 is precisely the same man we end with on page 308 — with the minor exception that he now has a partner in Neo and that, sadly, is a lesson he learns instantaneously. For the first half of the book, Myers sets up the expectation that learning to trust and, specifically, learning to trust someone like Neo is the great conflict that Roman will have to work though. He's very cynical in his own head, as we might expect: “On the streets, on your own. You only watched out for yourself. Anything else was a weakness. Anyone else was a liability” (14). No sooner is this perspective established than Roman is meeting people who challenge it. While babysitting the Malachite girls, they provide advice on how to improve his chances of pulling off heists: 

Melanie and Miltia, simultaneously: “You just need the right partner.” 

Roman: “Maybe. I just don’t believe anyone is going to watch out for me as much as I will” (41). 

After betraying Lil' Miss and fending off his peer Chameleon, she sadly announces that "you might have gotten what you wanted after all if you hadn’t been in it only for yourself. If you had allowed yourself to trust someone” (87). Myers isn't subtle about the theme here. 

Yet when Roman meets Neo, that trust is immediate, despite spending his entire life rejecting the idea of a partner, despite the viewer having just read about numerous other people who Roman spent years fighting beside and still didn't come to trust, Neo forms an instant, powerful connection with him — one that can't be explained by her saving his life when they first meet. Even Roman himself acknowledges that it's just another debt to repay. They simply click, with no explanation as to how that occurred, or even a serious acknowledgement that this is out of character for them both (what with Neo never having had a friend). Neo gives him the name "Neopolitan," knowing it's her true name now and, thus, a more personal offering than her birth name "Trivia." Roman gives her his entire life story during their first meal together. Roman also spends all of his money on Neo's modified parasol and at the novel's end continually offers to sacrifice himself so that Neo can escape. Neo thinks a lot about how Roman is the only one who can understand her through body language alone which, kudos to Myers again, he does describe her movements with enough clarity to sell that understanding (even if Roman does sometimes make leaps in logic that feel a little unlikely). “She really missed Roman. Most of the time she didn’t need to say anything and he knew exactly what she was thinking” (249). It's heartwarming. As someone who enjoyed their relationship in the webseires, this is likewise a joy to read. It's just that it... kinda came out of nowhere. 

Far from this just being an issue of Roman trusting when he's never trusted before, Myers sets up a conflict of loyalties in Neo that is then immediately dropped. She finds herself surprised by Lady Beat — the headmistress of the academy Neo attends — unexpectedly liking her insights and, in exchange for privacy and a more in-depth curriculum, agrees to help her capture Roman. Prior to this agreement, Neo considers helping the Malachite twins take Roman out when they corner him because then they might be Neo's friends instead of her bullies. That motivation makes perfect sense to me. Of course Neo would be more interested in assisting the two girls who attend school with her and improving her daily life over helping the random guy on the street, even if Roman's vulnerability (that's what Neo latches onto: a moment where his mask slips and he shows true fear) sways her towards helping him in the end. When she reunites with Roman later, he requests that she help him spy on Lady Beat... and Neo turns him down. So there's a very clear precedent here of Neo being out for herself, looking to improve her relationship with the other high society ladies she's spending most of her time with. The road to favoring Roman over them will be a long one. What will convince Neo to switch sides? 

Nothing. Soon after Neo thinks about how she's duping both Lady Beat and Roman (the reasoning there is never really explained) and from then on her focus is entirely on Roman, with likewise no explanation as to why she chose him in the end. “Roman clearly had some trust issues to work out, but Neo was going to prove to him that he could count on her” (219). Why this sudden desire to prove herself to Roman? No idea. The novel skips over the majority of their bonding. Yes, there are a few key scenes — Neo saving him, Roman giving her the parasol, etc. — but a single sentence reveals that Neo has been training with him for months now, bypassing the slow development of trust and Neo's changing thought process about what side she should choose. 

Or rather, there are explanations for Neo's decision, but they all occur after Neo has already chosen Roman. There are two major revelations that we're only told about much later in the novel: that Neo is suddenly dissatisfied with her life at school — “Neopolitan was having second thoughts. As much as life at the school had improved, more and more it felt like it wasn’t giving her what she needed” — and that Lady Beat is the head of a major spying conspiracy across all of Remnant (more on that later). Either one of these could have been the catalyst for Neo giving more attention to Roman and, eventually, growing quite close to him. A general dissatisfaction with her life, the revelation that Lady Beat isn't the kind of criminal Neo wants to support...either would work. As it is, her devotion to Roman seems to immerge randomly, fully formed and unshakable, with these ‘I guess the school and Lady Beat weren't that great after all’ justifications tacked on much later and, thus, presented as incidental to Neo's devotion. “[Roman] was basically the only thing that mattered to her in the world right now" is the conclusion Neo comes to without a lot of work put in to explain how he reached that point in her life (248). 

And I can see how this happened. We already know that Neo and Roman are a tight-knit duo from the webseries — Neo's love in particular has been emphasized since Volume Six — and so Myers banked on the reader applying that knowledge to the novel. He wrote the story of what Neo and Roman did prior to meeting, he wrote the story of their friendship prior to the webseries... but he didn't really write how that friendship came about. It's treated as a given, despite the huge number of reasons why that friendship should be rocky (or even non-existent) at the start, to say nothing of many fans' interest in getting an answer to the question, "How does an established villain who trusts no one wind up partnering with a girl a decade his junior?" The novel tells us that this unexpected outcome does, in fact, occur, rather than taking us through the journey of how such an outcome is possible. This is by no means a new problem in RWBY and, admittedly, Myers' depiction of the relationship isn't as noticeably a problem as some others in the webseries, simply by virtue of Neo and Roman being the focus of the novel and the reader knowing that they do, in fact, end up as partners. It's a lot easier to buy a shaky journey when you already know the inevitable conclusion, but that doesn't mean we couldn't have done a better job of showing it. 

Which, to get back to the original point of this section, means that Roman never has that arc about learning to trust someone. He just does trust, the moment Neo comes on the scene. Personally, I think this rapid-fire growth is particularly egregious given everything else we learn about Neo and Roman’s histories. Meaning, just like Roman's cynicism about trust is introduced early on, so is his hatred for the rich elite. In fact, Roman's poverty and the disdain that has bred are arguably the most prominent aspects that Myers added to his characterization. As seen in the novel's excerpt release, Roman's introduction is robbing a rich man coming out of a club where he shows more interest in humiliating and harming the man than just getting his stuff and running. Which, to be fair, isn't solely due to the man's status as a member of the elite. The novel develops both characters' sadist tendencies — “He’s vicious. He brutally beat a man just for his coat. He was having fun” (21) — but the man’s status isn't a non-factor either. Roman's internal thoughts say a lot about how stupid, rude, gullible, pathetic, and inept he thinks the rich are. At the start he's not just taking the man's coat because he likes it, but because he’ll need it to survive the Mistral winter, what with living in a shelter under a bridge and all. We learn that his obsession with survival is born of poverty — “Ma’am, when you don’t have anything, surviving is more. You’ve gotta start somewhere” (20) — and that Roman will go to any lengths just to meet his basic needs, potentially with a side of some comfort. For example, he knowingly risks his life by pissing off Lil' Miss just to get two days of food, baths, and a bed. As Roman puts it, those two days are worth it, even if it means the rest of his life is potentially forfeit. 

So this is a man driven by a desire to live in comfort, manifesting in a hatred of the rich that is so powerful Roman breaks the man's knee just for the hell of it. He's touchy about any comment on his upbringing too: "Roman froze. 'So that’s it. You think you’re better than me. Because you went to school? Learned a trade?'" (80). And, to be clear, this is a hatred of the high society rich. The kind of wealth that's never earned. Roman has a healthy respect for the well-fed crime bosses who have pushed their way to the top, just as he plans to. Not those living cushy lives at the expense of him and others. 

And wouldn't you know it, his partner to-be is a pampered little rich girl. 

"There's the conflict," I thought. "Roman doesn't just need to learn to trust, he's got to trust someone born into extreme luxury. How is that going to happen?" Well, again, it didn't. Neo and Roman's class difference is ignored for 99% of the novel, with the other 1% used for casual banter between them. It's not that Roman isn't aware of Neo's pedigree, so to speak. He finds her through the uniform she wears, the symbol of an academy that rich girls attend. When they share their first tea together, he notes how daintily she eats the sandwiches, more evidence that Neo has had manners drilled into her at a young age. When he finally gets confirmation that she's not just rich, but really rich — flying to her parents' mansion — Roman is just kinda moderately surprised, throwing in a comment about how someday that money will be hers and isn't that nice. Roman's hatred of the elite disappeared for Neo's sake, just like his trust issues did. There's no working through these differences, just an erasure of them so the novel can jump straight to them being the perfectly in synch duo we know from the webseries. 

As a side detail that I think demonstrates this imbalance rather well, hair is used as a marker of identity throughout the novel. Neo moves from being jealous that other girls are allowed to style their hair how they please, to making her hair entirely pink with her semblance, changing that to half brown instead, buying pink dye so she no longer needs to waste energy on something she wants to be permanent, and ending with her getting some white streaks even as she chooses to leave the name Vanille behind. Each change coincides with an aspect of her development and it works quite well. In contrast though, Roman has only setup, no follow through. Unlike the short cut we're used to in the series, Roman starts the novel with a long ponytail that characters frequently comment on. The twins steal his hat and beg to braid his hair when they're bored. Neo seems iffy about the style choice. A couple other side characters make vague references to imply that he should get rid of it — something, something it doesn't actually suit him. So surely we'll see Roman cut his hair sometime before the novel's end, visually representing his growth, just like Neo's changing color has represented hers (ending with a color mix that reflects neapolitan ice cream)? Nope. Not unless I missed it. The foundation for that change is there, but Myers never capitalizes on it, despite obviously knowing what he's doing with Neo. 

So if you want more Roman content, the kind of content we saw in the webseries, great. You'll love the novel. If you want to read about Roman undergoing any significant change, including a dive into how he came to trust Neo of all people, large chunks of that story are missing. In true RWBY fashion, there are plenty of details that allow readers to fill in the blanks for themselves, but the canon itself is, sadly, lacking. 

Part Two: Neo's Magical Identity 

We've established then that Neo gets the lion's share of the development and, frankly, most of it is good. Knowing she's set to become a villain, I loved reading the gradual move from understandably lashing out — Neo throws an umbrella at her father's face when he's being an emotionally abusive dick — to becoming just as stoically cruel as Roman — she launches a woman out of the back of a plane. Did she have a parachute? Who cares. There's a lot here to like about Neo's characterization, with Myers finding a nice balance between keeping her playful and not making her feel like a caricature (helped immensely by spending so much time in Neo's head). However, the one part that arguably fails is the development of Neo's semblance and, consequentially, her identity. 

To be clear, I absolutely get what Myers was going for and it's basically what I assumed was going on when I read the excerpt: Trivia (Neo's birth name) has an imaginary friend she calls Neopolitan and, over time, she realizes she is Neopolitan. The imaginary friend is who she wanted to be all along, not just the person she wanted to spend time with. I like it! Who among us hasn't imagined a badass, smooth-talking, beloved version of ourselves that impresses everyone with a Mary Sue-esque ease? (Or, if you haven't, guess I'm outing myself here lol.) It's a pretty relatable idea. Trivia imagines a girl with the power to dress how she wants, style her hair how she wants, with amazing acrobatic skills, a take-no-shit attitude, fun ideas to implement... but she also has Trivia's heterochromia and muteness. It's the perfect combination of Trivia's unique traits and the confidence/freedom she longs to have. Of course when given the chance she grows up to be Neo, even going so far as to take that name. It's what she always wanted. 

The only problem here is that in the RWBY world, Neo can't just be an imaginary friend. She's a manifestation of Trivia's semblance. As we learn later, the things Trivia creates are as real as real can be, provided she keeps up their existence. You can touch the wall. You can count the money. You can wear the clothes. They're less illusions than short-term creations — as Team RWBY realizes whenever they wind up attacking a Neo duplicate instead of the "real" thing — and that puts an odd spin on just how imaginary Neopolitan actually is. She's not imaginary at all. She's a real person that exists in the real world, it's just that this existence is temporary and dependent on Trivia's aura. 

The novel supports this by constantly writing Neopolitan as a distinct personality from Trivia. Not just the polished version of who she is slowly becoming, but an individual in her own right. Neo makes decisions that are fully her own, contrary to or even entirely unknown to Trivia. To highlight just a few examples: 

Trivia is unsure about sneaking out of the house so Neo "shoved her into the hall" (25). 

Neo "looked on jealously” as Trivia drinks a milkshake, implying a desire to have one and the knowledge that her current physicality doesn't allow for that. If she is Trivia, shouldn't she likewise be enjoying the shake? 

“She shot Neo a questioning look... before she realized what Neo had in mind” (92). Their thoughts are presented as separate and there's no instant mind-reading. 

Neo catches Trivia when she leaps out of a window, surprising her with the save. Trivia never planned for Neo to do that, Neo did it entirely on her own. 

There are lots of other instances like this, details that establish Neo has a person separate from Trivia (this confusion regarding their names should make that clear enough), no matter the fact that she's made out of aura. I mean, we've got Ozpin existing only as a soul in other's bodies. RWBY isn't exactly in a position to get nit-picky about personhood. More specifically though, Neo is presented as a bad influence on Trivia, an outside force enacting on her in harmful ways. Neo's introduction establishes her as the troublemaker to Trivia's more obedient personality: “But those were her parents’ rules, and Neopolitan never cared about those.... She bounced up and down on the cushions the way she wasn’t supposed to” with a “taunting smile” (2). Her father comments on this multiple times, saying that Trivia can't hide behind an imaginary friend. She's responsible for her decisions. And while yes, that's true, that level of responsibility changes when Trivia summons Neo into the world. During a fight with some other teens, they can suddenly see Neo and Neo, independent of Trivia, punches one in the face, making her nose bleed. That seems like a real person making her own, real decisions to me. So it was never Trivia doing things and then trying to foster responsibility off on an imagined cohort, it's a child bringing another, magically-based person into existence and being influenced by her since before the age of 8 (considering that Trivia and Neo have clearly been playing with each other for a long time when the novel starts). There's even a moment where Trivia seems to realize all this, acknowledging that sneaking out, breaking up her parents' party, causing a scene... all of it was Neo's idea. “That had to be Neo’s influence again. Trivia had to stay in control." 

But the idea of control is never actually explored. Despite establishing Neo's individuality and having Trivia comment on her influence, the second half of the novel abandons that for the expected, 'Trivia was Neo all along' reveal. There's a very strange moment where Trivia's mom slaps Neo, causing her to shatter and... that's it. “Neo had been so much more to Trivia. Now she was gone” (98). Neo is, apparently, gone for good, despite the fact that she should return the moment Trivia's aura does. Neo has been with Trivia since she was a small child, nearly her entire life and at least 7 years by this point in the novel, so why did a single slap send her away? That's not explained and, much like the ‘Why has Neo chosen Roman?’ question, the fact that Trivia did try to bring her back several times and failed is mentioned chapters after Neo's absence is presented as an inevitability. The order of events needs some reshuffling. 

Despite this confusion regarding why this change happened now, the explanation seems to be that Neo isn't really gone, Trivia has just realized for the first time that she is Neo. No need to summon up a separate person when you are that person and the novel, from then on, is peppered with constant reminders of this. 

“Trivia was on the verge of exhaustion, but she kept burning the last of her Aura to hold Neo together. To hold herself together” (96). 

Realizing she is Neo: “Trivia smiled. She took in a deep breath. She felt complete for the first time. She felt like herself” (99). 

“You must be Trivia,” the tall woman said. If I must, I must, Trivia thought (126).

“She wrinkled her nose. Her name still felt like a coat that didn’t fit right. She would need to tailor that, too” (153).

“Losing her friend was Trivia’s first step towards putting herself back together and embracing her true, best self” (152). 

“Wearing this [outfit], she almost, not quite, knew (or remembered?) who she was—not as a student or a daughter, but as Trivia Vanille," except the clothes are “the kind of thing Neopolitan would wear” (152-3). 

On not being able to summon Neo anymore: “She had realized that Neo was really just another aspect of herself” (175).

Though there’s also the occasional implication that she's not actually Neo, just someone highly influenced by her: “No, [fully pink hair was] too much of the other girl [Neopolitan]," so she settles on that half pink (Neo), half brown (Trivia) combo (153). 

As said at the start, it's a "twist" that works perfectly well... provided you ignore the magical elements and the amount of work done to establish Neopolitan as her own person, not just Trivia in a shiny, future glamour. Far from the empowering victory I expected to feel in watching Neo become who she always wanted to be, I found the whole situation to be somewhat tragic. Magic created a fully realized person who egged Trivia towards bad behavior since she was a young child, until Trivia comes to the decision that she should just embrace their personality 24/7. It felt less like the growth of a character into who they were meant to be and more like a manipulated kid taking the place of the person who used to exist alongside her — the only friend she ever had before Roman. Given that Neo is a villain, that's a pretty interesting idea for how the good girl goes bad... but it doesn't feel like Myers meant it that way. Rather, we're supposed to accept the simplest reading, that Neo was just a projection of Trivia's internal self, never-mind her individuality, her pressuring influence, her existence as something real in the world provided Trivia has aura. It's a much messier depiction of Neo's identity than that ‘She had an imaginary friend who she admired and eventually took her name’ setup. When magic is involved and a character's mind is creating fully realized people to stave off loneliness... that's a whole other kettle of fish. I don't actually want to delve into a psychological reading here — I simply don't have the expertise for that — but suffice to say, Neo's muteness might have been handled well, but there's a lot more to interrogate regarding her mental state and how much leeway we give to, ‘It's a fantasy series, just run with it.’ 

Part Three: You're Dodging Those Rumors, Clyde 

I admittedly am. Let's take a break from deep dives into characterization to instead tackle Roman Holiday's — undeserved — reputation. I get it. At this point the RWBY franchise is, frankly, a poster child for offensive content and workplace problems. In the last two years alone we've dealt with horrific crunch culture, sexual harassment allegations, an arguably glorified assisted suicide, bad comparisons to real life politics and dictatorships, a huge reversal on the show's disability stance, one subreddit banning another over criticism, a collective YouTube response to the fandom's behavior, iffy choices regarding Mother's Day merch, accusations of queerbaiting, a resurgence of using Monty's death to forward or dismiss arguments, continued worry over whether the bees will be made canonical next Volume... and honestly, that's just some of the big ticket subjects. RWBY's story, workplace, and fandom have a lot going on, much of it bad, so it's no surprise to me that people are primed to see the worst at every turn. Why wouldn't we be? At this point it's a pretty justified response. 

However, in this case it's unwarranted. Let's tackle Neo and Roman first. Yes, they're a decade apart in age and yes, there are some details that could, potentially, imply romantic interest on both sides. But they really are tiny and the novel confirms nothing. Indeed, the back of the book's summary says, "Just like every story, every friendship has a beginning..." So that's the focus here and all the ambiguous hints, importantly, happen after Neo is confirmed to be 18 years old. Roman takes her to a fancy tea shop only because he owes her. “It certainly wasn’t because he wanted to impress her or anything” (189). Neo blushes when he compliments her semblance. Twice Roman jokes “Don’t worry, it isn’t flowers” when Neo is opening up her parasol present (212). Neo also acknowledges Roman's looks at one point: “With his tousled orange hair, dressed like a street punk, he didn’t look much older than her. In fact, he was kind of cute” (184). The most intimate they get though is at the novel's end: “She leaned over and kissed Roman on the cheek. His face went red," though this is immediately followed by "It was fun to mess with him sometimes” (307). Honestly, the most overt "hint" towards a relationship is probably the title itself, a play on the 1953 romantic comedy Roman Holiday. But upon reading the novel, I think it's clear Myers chose that title only because Roman's name is, you know, Roman and the plot somewhat mirrors the idea of a reporter getting involved with a princess. Only in this case it's a criminal getting involved with a high society girl and "involved" just means a crime spree, not a romance. 

So is there something there? Maybe the start of something, if you're willing to read into it, but to me it comes across more like the two of them poking fun at social expectations — he's the guy so he "must" be getting the girl flowers; she's the girl so she "has" to kiss him on the cheek — rather than anything serious. Even if Myers had developed a relationship, Neo is both an adult and at least Ruby's current age, if not a year older, so if some fans want her to start a relationship with the 14-year-old farm boy housing her ancient headmaster, is a ten year age gap really where we're going to draw the line? I know that makes a lot of people uncomfortable — frankly it makes me a bit uncomfortable too, more-so because of the difference in their life experiences (Neo is still a student, Roman a long-established criminal) than the actual gap itself — but we should be wary about when personal squicks turn into unfounded, "This is a sin!" purity culture. And for the purposes of this conversation, the point is that there is no relationship. If anything, Roman is just as aware of Neo's age as the reader is. He initially thinks he's looking at a “little girl” only to quickly realize “She was also older than her diminutive height suggested, maybe about the same age as the Malachite twins” (168). But, as we'll get to in just a sec, Roman very much treats the twins as the kids they are too. Roman even refers to Neo as a "kid" until she makes it known she dislikes it (183-4). He drops the term, but that doesn't mean the mindset disappeared. 

As for the twins, they're the only other minors that Roman spends time with. Lil' Miss instructs him to act as their body guard while in hiding, which means he spends over a week living with them. Frankly? I think it's a really wholesome part of the novel — or as wholesome as the villains can ever get. That's when the girls get bored enough to steal Roman's hat, toss it around a bit, and beg to braid his hair. Myers does a good job of balancing Roman's bad boy attitude with a clear indulgence for them. He doesn't actively like the twins (who does Roman like besides Neo?) and ends up orchestrating a ridiculous plot to get out of "babysitting" them (another indication that he's well aware that they're kids), but he doesn't wish them any real harm. He even cares about them in his own twisted, villainous way. We get to see a moment where Roman tries to convince the girls to escape from a grimm, leaving him behind. We might have been able to write that off as Roman just saving his own skin in the long run — Lil' Miss would kill him if any harm comes to her girls — but there's no need to fake comfort: “Roman squeezed Melanie’s hand reassuringly. He needed her and her sister to remain calm” (52). As one of the other goons observes, “You’re bluffing. It’s obvious that you care about [Miltia], which means you’re up to something” (51). Much later, Roman's thoughts confirm this when the girls are older, more powerful, and trying to kill him: “He’d had to endure their dance recitals when they were little. He’d clapped for them at gymnastic competitions. Now they were trying to do a number on him... He didn’t want to hurt the lil' brats, despite everything, but he couldn’t let them take him down” (166-7). Really, I like everything about this. I enjoy how this humanizes and complicates Roman without undermining his status as a villain. I like the loyalty to their mother it shows in the twins that they'd turn on a man who was so involved in their childhoods. It's just fun to read about a badass bad guy trying to manage bored pre-teens with superpowers and a crime boss mom. Their relationship isn't something I expected from the novel, but I'm glad we got it. There's nothing here to imply the twins are uncomfortable with Roman, or that Roman is inappropriate with them. Anyone who balks merely at the idea of a grown man, quote, "babysitting" two young girls is working from bias and bias alone. 

There is, however, one inappropriate comment made by a goon and an assumption made by Miltia, both of which Roman refutes. First, the goon asks if Melanie is Torchwick’s “new girlfriend” to which Roman responds, “You know who it is... She’s just a kid, big man” (47-48). Later on, we get

“Cute,” [Roman] said. 

“Flattery’s not going to work on me anymore,” Miltia said. 

“I was referring to your moves, not you” (158).

Now, we could drag Myers for including such "jokes" and misunderstandings to begin with, but that's why I mentioned the Yellow Trailer at the start of this review. It doesn't feel right to single Myers out for something Rooster Teeth has already embraced, especially when he's the one working to mirror their original product. Yang deliberately toys with Junior and Junior willingly goes in for the kiss. Jaune blushes at older moms eyeing him up at the crosswalk. Nora tells Ren not to look up her skirt in the middle of a deadly fight. Neo and Cinder both go to Atlas in scantily clad outfits because it's more important for the women to look sexy than it is for the show to stay consistent about the dangers of the tundra. Much of RWBY has that frat boy energy about it. I'd be shocked if nothing snuck its way into Myers' work too. But Roman the pedophile who ogles the twins and manipulates a kid Neo? That just doesn't exist. 

Part Four: Déjà Vu, Anyone? 

I dithered about whether to include this section, simply because I don't want anyone to misunderstand what I'm trying to say... yet at the same time, I'm not entirely sure how to articulate the problem I have here. Or if I'd even consider it a problem at all. In the end, "déjà vu" is the best term I can come up with. I'm not saying that Myers is lazy in regards to plot and choreography. I'm definitely not saying he's plagiarized. What I am saying — the only thing I'm saying — is that there were a lot of times during the novel where I went, "Okay, we've seen this before." Whether or not that's bad I'm... not sure. 

Let's start broad. When the excerpt dropped I mentioned that Neo's situation sounded pretty very to Weiss' and I stand by that claim. Actually, having read the novel now, I'd say it's a LOT like Weiss' story. Neo is the daughter of an incredibly wealthy family, suffering from an abusive father, a more loving but absent mother, whose only freedom stems from her semblance and combat abilities. Alright, let's dig deeper. Like Jacques, Jimmy's abuse is on full display for the viewer/reader. I could give you a laundry list of examples, but here are just a few: 

Jimmy is frequently described as barely controlling his anger around Neo, “there was rage behind his shadowed eyes,” etc. (4)

There are times when she is "suddenly afraid" of what her Papa will do to her (35).

When Neo is taken home by the cops, they reveal that they didn't even know that Jimmy Vanille had a daughter. That's how sequestered she's been.

He and his wife lock Neo in her room when they go out, which means that when she starts a fire she had no way to escape, no one to open the door for her, no way to call for help (her scroll is engulfed in the flames). Neo ends up chancing a fall from the window. 

He comes very near to hitting Neo at one point before backing down. 

Later he drugs her and, again, locks her in her room. 

As said, I could go on. There are a few inconstancies across the novel that, frankly, I've come to expect of Myers' work and RWBY in general, which I bring up now because it messes with the abuse plotline a bit. There's supposed to be a shocking moment when Jimmy grabs Neo tightly by the arms: "Trivia stepped back, appalled. Papa had yelled at her, punished her, even ignored her over the years, but he had never hurt her before” (97). Except she’s forgetting that, at the very start of the novel, Jimmy grabs her by the ankles, pulls her out from under the couch, and proceeds to shake her upside down while her hand bleeds. I'd say that's a pretty intense, physical interaction, making squeezing Neo's arms fail to have the impact Myers was looking for. Similarly, when Neo finally snaps and throws her parasol at her father's face, it's because “The things she had claimed for herself were just more stuff her parents had paid for," meaning, everything she stole on a shopping spree her father made sure to pay for twice over. It's not the ableism, abuse, isolation, and the like that Neo reacts to, even though she clearly struggles with those throughout the novel as a whole. So there are disconnects at times, but the point is this man is an abusive asshole to his daughter until she learns to literally fight back. Sound familiar? 

What particularly struck me was that both men have built their abuse around how the family is perceived. Both are obsessed with their image and how their daughter does or does not serve it. Jacques yelling at Weiss for speaking out about Beacon could be swapped with Jimmy yelling at Neo for not speaking at all. Jacques has maintained his wealth by exploiting the faunus in dust mines and getting in deep with criminals like Watts. Jimmy maintains his wealth by getting involved in illegal dust trades and getting in deep with criminals like the Xiongs. Both try to justify their actions in the name of perpetuating both that image and that wealth: “the things I have to do for that money” (5). Both lock their daughters in their room when they can't control them anymore. Both keep portraits in the hall that “showed her and her parents posing together as if they were a happy family,” a symbol of this familial deception (271).* Both have more compassionate, terrified, but ultimately enabling wives that, the story reveals, have secretly been spying on their husbands this whole time. Just as Willow set up all those cameras and gave the footage to Weiss, Carmel is using the camera in her pin to acquire information on Jimmy, with plans to use it to help Neo. By the time Neo's solution to the "What now?" question was to fly Roman back to her mansion and drink tea for a while Volume 8 style, complete with a Sun-Blake style shock that this is her house — sure you don't mean the tiny one behind it? — I was honestly wondering just how far we were going to stretch these parallels. I don't want to make it sound like these characters are identical (Carmel isn't an alcoholic for one thing)... but they share enough characteristics and distinct details to feel, well, a little weird. It also feeds the fandom's question, "Doesn't RWBY know any villain backstories except abuse?" 

*(As a side note, I initially thought the book's cover, showing a young Neo with two brown eyes, was a mistake. Turns out her parents had the painter get rid of her pink eye because they were ashamed of it, so kudos to the cover artist for keeping that consistent!) 

The similarities between Neo's backstory and Weiss' are absolutely the most obvious example here, but there were two other, smaller déjà vu moments I wanted to toss out, both involving combat. Myers has, at times, repeated fights almost exactly in order to cover two character's perspectives. I get the need to rehash plot in that manner, but he tends to focus on the exact same details back to back, making for a boring read. That incredibly nit-picky criticism aside, it means that I was already aware of combat moments that I'd seen before, not just in Roman Holiday, but RWBY in general. Does this description sound familiar to anyone? 

Neo hopped up lightly onto the broad blade. Rin tried to shake her off. Neo vaulted away just as the Huntress activated the flames, somersaulting over the Huntress. She planned to land behind her and whack her with her sword, but Rin turned and kicked high while Neo was still in the air. The Huntress’s foot connected with Neo’s stomach, knocking the wind out of her and knocking her clear across the room (199). 

If it's not familiar don't beat yourself up because it really is a minor similarity (and, in fairness, there's only so many ways you can write combat...). But take away the swords, replace them with a parasol and scythe, and you've basically got Ruby and Neo's interaction in Volume 8. Ruby tries to land a hit on Neo, she turns, kicks high while Ruby is still in the air, and she flies across the platform, knocking the wind out of her. We've also seen the 'Landing on a broadsword to get close to an enemy' bit with Tyrian and Qrow. But again: minor. What's a far less minor repeat of combat techniques is seen between Roman and Chameleon. Basically, Chameleon is Ilia, minus being a faunus and thus framing her abilities as a difference she's shunned for. Her semblance allows her to camouflage at will, giving her a major stealth advantage in a fight. Which means that when she goes after Roman, things get exponentially harder when the lights go out. But then it's better for Roman when a fire starts. He beats Chameleon and she helps him in the end because she's always been in love with him, even though Roman didn't love her back. If you're going, "Hey, that's the basic plot of Blake and Ilia's fight!" then yeah, me too.

It's not the whole novel. I don't want to make it sound like Roman Holiday is just a stitched together version of previous RWBY content because it's absolutely not. At the same time though, there were enough major similarities — and enough smaller ones that started standing out as a result — for me to raise an eyebrow. As said, I'm not entirely sure what to make of this eyebrow raising, or even if I want to label it a criticism at all. You all can decide what you think. 

Part Five: Wait, Now There's Not Enough RWBY? 

Yes, I contain multitudes and contradictions. As does this book. Even while Roman Holiday repeated some pretty familiar RWBY elements, there were times when the novel didn't feel very RWBY-ish at all. Part of the problem is that it lacks what's arguably the most crucial part of RWBY’s world building: battling grimm. Safe behind the walls of Mistral and Vale, we only see one grimm in the whole story, a captured Capivara that one of the crime lords uses to dispose of people who have displeased him. Roman and the twins barely get more than a few hits in before it escapes upstairs, leaving the kill to happen off screen (and why the grimm ran is another problem entirely. Again: we'll get to that). So although there are plenty of battles between people throughout the story, it doesn't feel quite like RWBY to me without the show's first and most significant antagonist. 

More than that though, Myers goes back and forth between emphasizing RWBY's unique, cultural elements and putting them aside entirely. When he's including them, it's great. We learn that there's an old saying “You can’t put the moon back together” which yeah, of course idioms would develop around the shattered moon (151). Honey Wine, a night club singer, paints her face with red dust as a symbol of both wealth and her dare-devil nature — one stray spark and the dust would ignite, blowing her and potentially the club up too. Yeah, of course people would come up with foolish, ridiculous ways to use this resource if they had it. During one of Neo's lessons, a passage for diction practice goes like this: 

The gruesome Grimm grew greedy. Get that greedy gruesome Grimm, Gregory. Go, Gregory, go. The greedy gruesome Grimme gorged Gregory. Good-bye, Gregory, Good-bye. The gory, greedy Grimm gave a gruesome grin (175).

Yeah, of course the elite would develop silly lessons using grimm as examples! We've got math problems about Johnny and his dish soap (yes, I'm quoting the Vine), so why wouldn't this world use grimm in the same way? Especially those who are rich and privileged enough to never encounter one. 

When it's good, it's good. When it's not... I don't want to take Myers to task for this because, in his defense, much of what makes the book feel generically modern has been seen in the show. Like computers. Or video games. Still, when these things are mentioned frequently it undermines the fantasy/sci-fi core, especially when Myers keeps the standard terminology. Why is a phone called a scroll, but a TV is still called a TV? Why are cops patrolling normal sounding malls with normal sounding guns? Neo sneaks out at one point and it struck me that, up until she uses her semblance against a bunch of bullies, there's nothing to distinguish this outing from a realistic portrayal of an average girl getting a milkshake. None of this is helped by the times when Myers slips on the terminology that is unique. Roman describes what he steals as "cash" rather than "lien" (105). One moment we're getting phrases like “She wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box," the next it's "or rob a convenience store for a six-pack of Dr. Piper” (44, 239). So is RWBY a world that has all the same products we do — crayons and TVs — a world that's different, but only because the author is making it different in a humorous way — Dr. Piper — or a place with a unique culture and history — scrolls, lien, shattered moon idioms? It's a challenge every fantasy writer has to face. Can you have a French braid in a world without France? Some will say no, others will bank on the reader's understanding that you can't change up every aspect of our language. You'll drive yourself nuts if you try. So I'm sympathetic, but it's nevertheless noticeable when Myers seems to remember that he's writing a fantasy world, tossing in "bullhead," "oh my Gods," and "thank the brothers" in a single scene, as if he’s making up for the whole chapters where that work is missing. Take out the grimm, take out semblances for a good chunk of the plot (since Roman doesn't have one), get iffy about the details... and you're left with a story that sometimes feels more generic Young Adult than it does RWBY. Enjoyable Young Adult, but a little lackluster in the world building all the same. This isn't a book where girls turn into rose pedals, lamps grant wishes, and teenagers fight giant mechs. This is a story where a guy uses a cane to beat people up, a girl uses illusions to shoplift, and the final confrontation is basically a shoot-out. Not bad by any means, just not the level of insane "The gun is also a gun!" nonsense that has become RWBY's brand. 

Part Six: Stupid Plots (and Strange Details) 

If Roman Holiday lacks a lot of that RWBY insanity, then that means nothing stupid and ridiculous happened, right? Lol of course not. The novel suffers from what I think of as the, "Well that's convenient" problem. In its immense defense though, it's nowhere near the level of, say, Amity suddenly being ready to go. The world's rules do not bend for Neo and Roman... they just wind up experiencing things that can test the reader's sense of disbelief at times. For example, how likely is it that two huntsmen will waltz into a bank in the middle of Roman robbing it? Very likely, apparently. Why not just have them respond to a silent alarm? Well, because of reasons we'll tackle in Part Seven, so we're left with the iffy coincidence of two trained professionals being at the right place at the right time to show the reader a fight. It's a fun fight though — love the use of dust in it — so we'll let that pass. After all, if coincidence serves the reader's entertainment, aren't they ultimately a good thing? 

Far more frustrating in my opinion is when disaster is illogically postponed and characters are written as incredibly stupid in order for a protagonist to get by. In this case, Neo. One of the major reveals of the novel is that her father has been stealing dust from the Xiongs and hiding it beneath Neo's bed. We're supposed to believe that a moment of Lil' Miss shooting into her room sets this volatile dust off, resulting in an explosion that kills both of Neo's parents (side note: she intended this), but the dust didn't blow up when Neo started a fire in said bedroom, a fire that then proceeded to consume the entire top floor? ...right. 

When Neo isn't conveniently surviving non-explosions, she's duping people left and right with her semblance, despite the fact that she, of course, can't speak. This trick becomes less and less convincing as the novel goes on. First, Neo drugs her tutor (that poor woman) and pretends to be her to escape the house, holding a one-sided conversation with her father as he walks her to the door. He finds nothing strange in this. Later, Neo sneaks back in by pretending to be her mother and though this time her father catches her, it's because “If you want to know whether someone is lying to you, it’s all in their eyes” (70). Not because, you know, his "wife" inexplicably won't respond to him verbally. Finally, Neo takes the place of Xiong, traveling with his assistant for over thirty minutes, and never once do any of the goons question what's going on with their suddenly mute boss. This includes interactions like Neo holding out her scroll and just staring until the assistant gets that she should follow the GPS, and the need to ignore the fact that Xiong, characterized as quite talkative throughout the novel, is suddenly quiet as a mouse. Neo's muteness should have been a severe limitation on her ability to masquerade as others, not something the story outright ignores in an effort to move the plot along. 

The novel is peppered with such coincidences, small inconsistencies, and just downright strange details. Roman notes that the police haven't arrived to his robbery yet, only for the next sentence to say they were swarming in. Later he "pulled on his bonds, testing whether he could slide one of his hands free, but he’d been tied up real good” but then again, a few sentences later, “He craned his neck to try to look out the front window. He managed to unbuckle his seat and hop to the front” (259). Like forgetting how rough her father has been in the past, Trivia bemoans the fact that she can't wear anything that Neo would, something in pink and white, for example, forgetting that her former "adventuring outfit" consisted of a white tank-top and white sneakers with pink hearts (26).* She also claims that the Roman illusion she sends running from the twins is her first long-distance use of her semblance, even though she just got done recalling the time she created a butterfly and watched it fly until it was "out of sight" (170). The novel writes out Neo's texting as dialogue even when someone else isn't speaking it aloud — something I initially made a note to praise it for. This is her version of "talking" after all — only for the texts to suddenly become bolded halfway through the book. As for strange details, Myers seems to like giving his antagonists a lumpy food to indulge in — Lil' Miss forces Roman to eat her cottage cheese, Xiong oatmeal with the consistency of cement — and Roman, quite oddly, decides to cover his spider tattoo with a grinning pumpkin. (Were they a thing in A Clockwork Orange? It's been years since I read it...) Neo learns to fly a plan by watching Xiong's assistant start it up and then, I kid you not, pulling up a How To article. Perhaps my favorite bit though is when Roman reveals his master plan to gain a monopoly on Vale's coffee industry and successfully does so by attacking one (1) warehouse. This is treated with the utmost seriousness. 

*(Second side note: the color brown is tied closely to Neo's backstory; to the person her parents wanted Trivia to be. She has her brown hair, only one brown eye, is introduced in a brown dress, wears a brown blazer and pants that her parents bought, and attends Lady Browning’s Preparatory Academy for Girls, the school meant to turn her into a 'real' lady.) 

That last bit though, the coffee heist, feeds into my biggest problem with the book's plot. @superzerokarasu​ and I have been talking about this the last two days, acknowledging it as one of the book's bigger flaws. (And, Superzerokarasu, if tumblr actually tags you, feel free to ignore this absolutely massive wall of text. I just wanted to give credit for the conversations 👍). Basically, towards the end of the novel it is, quite randomly, revealed that there is an important Room at the academy. Important enough that the story capitalizes it — that's not my doing. We haven't heard at thing about this Room before but Neo, apparently, has been trying to sneak into it for weeks. She knows Lady Beat is hiding something in there. Did we know this, especially since we've spent half the novel in Neo's head? Nope! No sooner has this mystery been introduced than Neo is solving it, much like how the group solves the problem of using Ambrosius moments after his rules are explained. Neo throws up an illusion of an empty hallway, picks the lock on the door, and discovers that Lady Beat has been spying on everyone who ever attended her school through the small pins students and graduates wear. This means she has access to private information about important people all over Remnant. Shocking! Neo reacts to this discovery by tearing the hard drive loose, there are some confusing suggestions about how this information will save them from Lil' Miss and Xiong, and then Roman sends the information to a news station, revealing all. Thus ends the world-wide conspiracy we just found out about. 

It's muddied. It's ridiculous. It, most importantly, comes out of nowhere. There's absolutely no buildup to this mystery, just a sudden announcement that it exists and, wouldn't you know, here's the conclusion. Superzerokarasu is correct that this problem could be solved by increasing the academy sections and fleshing this mystery out. I'm of the opinion that it could also be solved by eliminating it entirely. Why in the world do Roman and Neo need to grapple with a world-changing reveal, especially when the rest of the novel is so tame? Roman shakes money down from other small-time crooks. Neo learns diction and combat at school. Roman leaves the Kingdom to avoid Lil' Miss. Neo sneaks out of the house and goes on shopping sprees. She saves him from a street fight, he takes her out to tea, they proceed to rob convenience stores. Their conflicts take place on such a small scale that this conspiracy plot feels ridiculous compared to the rest of the novel, even if it did have better setup. In contrast, their big coffee heist likewise feels ridiculous for how small it is. As a duo (not Neo as an individual, now that she's involved with the Relics and such), they operate in a pretty specific niche of small crimes conducted for villains with large plans. Given the number of times the novel brought up that Roman should start stealing dust, I foolishly thought that the novel would conclude with them stealing dust. Why coffee? Why conspiracies? Why shootouts between two crime bosses on Neo's front lawn? Let them pull off an epic dust heist together, tying it back to Neo's family since her father is already neck-deep in the illegal dust trade, all of it setting up the characters we'll meet in the webseries: street crooks now stealing dust for Cinder. That's their specialty. Why not start that specialty here? 

Instead we get a bunch of hurried plot points that, of course, will have no bearing on the first eight volumes of the webseries. Which brings us to... 

Part Seven: Roman Holiday's Impact on RWBY

Quite obviously, this isn't a novel that exists in a vacuum. Roman Holiday, given that it is presented as an official Rooster Teeth product, is likewise meant to fit into the already established canon. This has been a challenge for Rooster Teeth in the past — important lore winding up in card games, mischaracterization in other novels, worry about how the upcoming game will re-tell events we've already seen — but has Roman Holiday perpetuated that trend?  

Well, yes and no. Which is never a particularly satisfying answer, but in this case there are both aspects that are working and aspects that aren't. Let's tackle the good first. 

Myers includes a lot of details throughout the story that help fill in RWBY's gaps. In this case, it's not information the viewer should have gotten in the webseries in order to have a complete understanding of the situation, but rather things that simply help connect the two works together, adding depth to what we already know. For example, there are those before mentioned times when characters suggest that Roman start stealing dust. “You aren’t the first person to suggest that. Maybe I should look into that...” (216). I do think it's a missed opportunity not to make a dust heist the climax of the story, but that doesn't erase the fact that this still functions as excellent setup for the webseries' premiere. We know RWBY opens on Roman robbing a dust shop. Now we have a better sense of how and why he got into that line of criminal work. 

We likewise get to see the origins of Neo's parasol, not just how she got it (Roman), but also what led her to wanting that kind of weapon in the first place (struggling with the heaviness of swords, getting attached to a parasol she stole, impulsively using it to attack her father, escaping the fire with it and realizing that the ability to float from high places is an asset). Something else I particularly like is that Myers was careful to explain how Neo became so adept at fighting. According to the webseries, there are only three paths you can take: go to combat school like Ruby, live on the streets like Roman, or live outside the Kingdoms like Blake. Neo, as a rich girl kept within high society, doesn't fit any of those models, so Myers introduces an Academy that seeks to train young women for any eventuality, even an attack. Neo learns how to smile, sew, cook, courtesy... while also taking classes in acrobatics, combat, ballet, and fencing. All the girls train with a combat instructor — “I know this isn’t a combat school, but by the time we’re done, you will be as skilled as any Huntress in Remnant” (201) — and, not only that, but she undergoes some pretty intense testing. Balance is taught by “balancing on a tightrope twenty feet in the air, with no net below you. Lady Beat believed in ‘though love’—without the love part” (146). It's a teaching method that makes Ozpin's cliff test seem a little less insane and it highlights one of those fantasy elements of RWBY. When your students possess aura that can save them from a twenty foot fall, it's slightly more reasonable to include that as a challenge. So when Neo starts following Roman around, it doesn't feel off that she can keep up with him. She's been trained, has practiced her semblance alone, and gets additional tutoring from Roman himself. Myers neatly dodges the question of how a non-Huntress and such a privileged girl — unlike Nora or Cinder — became to be as talented as Neo is. Privilege actually bought her that knowledge, which Neo then combines with Roman's street smarts, making her the formidable fighter we know and love.  

However, for every nice tether there is between Roman Holiday and RWBY there's a moment of worldbuilding that messes with our sense of the webseries. Or at least raises some pretty big concerns. 

Given that we just came off of Volume 8, it's no surprise that I read the novel with an eye for hints about how these future events — the destruction of Atlas, evacuees in Vacuo — might impact the rest of Remnant. What Myers gave us... doesn't look good for RWBYJNOR's decision, or the theme Rooster Teeth was going for in Volume 8. Meaning, the show took on a very black and white view by the end of the Atlas arc. Ironwood is an irredeemable bad guy, Atlas is full of racist trash and deserves to sink, the heroes made the best decision possible given the circumstances. Myers' novel introduces some nuance that, sadly, doesn't serve that black and white view well. He describes Mistral as, frankly, suffering the exact same problems as Atlas. “The city elevator didn’t come down this far, to keep more of a buffer between the haves and the have nots... people at the base of the mountain had no business topside” (10-11). Sounds like the sort of divide between Mantle and Atlas, huh? With the exception that one elite is stationed on top of a mountain instead of a floating city. It's a class issue Neo confirms as a kid when she sneaks out to the lower districts, thinking that, "she was never, ever allowed out alone. ‘For your own safety,’ they said” (25). Rich, racist elites who think themselves better than everyone else isn't an Atlas problem, it's a Remnant problem. RWBYJNOR solved nothing by leaving the place behind (and having one citizen hold hands with a faunus) and the fact that the story acts as if things are better now that Atlesians can’t have picnics on a floating city is... a problem. We already knew RWBY struggles with its racism and classism themes, but moments like this continue to add fuel to the wildfire. 

Similarly, the novel spends a not insignificant amount of time referencing Atlas as the technological capital of their world. We knew that already too, but hammering it home now, post-Volume 8, emphasizes the damage the group has done. No Atlas, no technology. Pretty much any technology, given how often it’s said to come directly from Atlas, or cloned from Atlas originals. 

Regarding the evacuation, Myers gives us a moment where Roman outright rejects Vacuo as a place to escape to: “Vacuo was a good place to hide, but the desert was probably one of the few fates worse than Lil’ Miss. And while there was a thriving criminal element, it wouldn’t be particularly welcoming to a newcomer. There was no future for Roman there” (88). So the desert is a fate worse than a crime boss and Vacuans are so unwelcoming one individual won't risk going there... and now our heroes have dumped an undetermined number of evacuees in that desert, heading towards a Kingdom that doesn't want them. Obviously Myers needs to come up with a reason for why Roman ends up in Vale where Neo is, but doing it this way just highlights so many of Volume 8's problems. Specifically, that the group made such a world-altering decision when it arguably was no longer necessary and, more importantly, did so without once considering the consequences that seem obvious to everyone else in Remnant. Vacuo is the last place anyone wants to escape to... so why was that the heroes' first choice? "Because the show hasn't gone there yet" isn't an answer. 

There are a couple smaller problems throughout — muddying the waters between semblances and magic again; emphasizing how many people unlock their semblances as kid and rely on their aura to get by, bringing up the question (again) of how Jaune was so ignorant — but I just want to cover two more issues here. 

The first is what I mentioned above about the one grimm the novel has. Suffice to say, the grimm ignores the three fighters in front of it (Roman and the twins) and runs off because... well...

“Grimm are drawn by emotion. You never controlled it. It killed your enemies because most people you drop in here are going to be afraid. They won’t be able to fight back. But as far as I can tell, these girls don’t feel anything. And I’m not afraid to die... Anger can be a more powerful emotion than fear” (54-5).”

Let's tally up the problems with this speech: 

The idea that Roman experiences no fear despite being cornered by a massive grimm, in a tiny room, in enemy territory 

The idea that an ability to fight back increases the chance of the grimm running off to pick other targets (if that were the case, the group would never finish any fights) 

Claiming that they're also left alone because the twins "don't feel anything" which is obviously ridiculous  

Reframing Roman's lack of fear into, specifically, not fearing death. Again, a grimm doesn't care whether you fear death or no

Saying that the anger of the boss all the way up in his office is a stronger draw than the three people currently attacking the grimm

It's just a lot of nonsense, bending one of RWBY's most basic rules to give Roman a cool-sounding speech. Cool provided you ignore what the speech is actually implying, that is. Why bother with this? Just let the grimm break down the door halfway through the fight, moving the fight into a new space with new people causes chaos, Roman either escapes then, or he kills the grimm first and escapes afterwards. Better, in my opinion, to give the story a single grimm kill than introduce a bunch of philosophical complications about how much these characters definitely don't feel fear and one man's anger is suddenly a grimm magnet. It's just a strange scene and, looking back, the only scene where I really went, "What?" As evidenced by this entire review, I have problems with certain aspects of the novel, but none actively made me question what in the world Myers was trying to accomplish. This moment is the exception. 

Finally, I'd like to briefly mention the ways in which Roman Holiday messes with our understanding of the huntsmen profession. Again, this is nothing new. From Blake and Yang shrugging off Adam's death, to Weiss asking if she can arrest her father, the true purpose of the job seems vague, especially when you toss in what they're legally allowed to get away with. At first, the novel seems to support the idea that huntsmen are responsible for defending the people from both grimm and criminals, especially in the cities where walls do most of the work of keeping grimm out. Roman worries that huntsmen will show up to put a stop to his robbery, there's a bounty for him “posted on all the Huntsmen job boards," and then, later, two huntsmen do show up to his bank heist and try to stop him — that coincidental timing (176). "It’s kind of refreshing to fight a bad guy instead of a Grimm for a change," says one, implying that their primary focus will always be grimm, but they're also not going to ignore criminal activity. I get that. I buy that. It fits with what else we've learned about the job from the webseries: students attend school specifically to learn how to fight grimm, but they're capable — and expected — to use those skills for the people's benefit, no matter what form that comes in. Hence, jobs like Jaune acting as a crossing guard. It works.

....Aaaand then Myers blows that understanding right out of the water. 

“[The huntsmen are] being fined for destruction of public property and reckless endangerment. This isn’t the first time they’ve been reprimanded for using excessive force and gross misconduct. The Vale Huntsmen Guild reportedly is considering suspending their licenses (118).” 

So wait, never mind, apparently huntsmen aren't supposed to stop bank robberies that they walk in on. Or at least, they're not supposed to stop them using "excessive force" and resulting in the "destruction of public property." Problem is, there's no way to battle another fighter of Roman's skill without doing property damage and, potentially, putting civilians in danger. The strength of Yang's punch blows small craters into the floor. Weiss uses dust that causes minor explosions. Ruby swings her scythe in such large arcs she could easily hit someone if she's not paying attention. Within the context of RWBY's powers, the huntsmen here didn't use "excessive force" because aura, semblances, dust, and insane weaponry are all staples of combat. So... what are they meant to do instead? Find out if Roman is just a normal dude and, if he's not, back out like, "Oh sorry. We can't fight someone our equal because that would require, you know, fighting. We'll wait for the police to capture you. They'll have a much better time without training, semblances, or any other combat resources, I'm sure..." 

This single excerpt sends us right back into the "Huh?" territory. What are a huntsmen's responsibilities then? What are they legally allowed to do? And why are these expectations so inconsistent across the franchise? I know the answer here is that the group was pardoned by Ironwood, but it still seems absurd that we watched them steal military property, attack an official, cause a major grimm attack, and actively hide from the authorities... and all that's presented as fine. But trying to stop the guy currently robbing a bank? Well, that’s a suspendable offense. And we know this was taken seriously because Roman runs into one of the huntsmen later, a Roch Szalt, and we learn that his license wasn't just suspended, he lost it entirely. These side characters are out of their livelihood for defending the people while RWBYJNOR gained licenses for endangering them. There's something fundamentally wrong with your world building when your protagonists primarily get by on such massive inconsistencies. 

Part Eight: The Last Section, I Swear

This is another aspect of the novel that I really hesitated over including, just because I do think there's a line between legit criticism and unkind nit-picking. In the end though, enough of a trend emerged that I thought I'd toss it out, especially since I've recently been pondering the question, "How does RWBY treat its women?" The answer should be obvious, right? This is a show about four girls fighting evil! Yet as the webseries continues, fans are noticing more and more divergences from that initial premise. Like creating a world where women are almost never in the primary positions of power. Like giving Jaune and Oscar the active, plot-forwarding scenes that should belong to Ruby and her team. Like that frat boy mentality I mentioned earlier on. The purpose here isn't to analyze that aspect of the webseries, I simply wanted to lay out where my thoughts were while reading Roman Holiday. 

The disclaimer? Neo is great. The strange intersection between her identity and her semblance aside, I think she's entertaining, well-rounded, and the fact that she is given not just half the book's chapters, but that focus mentioned in Part One, resulted in a well-developed character. However, outside of Neo the women are frustratingly built around the same thing: sex appeal. Honey Wine is the club singer whose semblance lowers customers' inhabitations, acting like a Remnant version of a siren. The twins — despite those pedophilia rumors about Roman proving unfounded — are the butt of girlfriend/"You're cute" jokes, drawing attention to their developing looks more than their combat skills, strategies, etc. Both Lady Beat and Carmel, Neo's mom, possess that older woman charm expected of high society ladies. They're dangerous because they can acquire information and they acquire that information by looking the part: pretty smiles, fine clothes, figures that catch the eye. Even Lil' Miss, an established character with a lot of power at her fingertips, isn't exempt from this. When Roman first meets her he observes that fashion is clearly a part of her strategic mind, “a plunging neckline and purple corset distracted Roman even more” (19). Distracted, meaning, that Lil' Miss deliberately makes herself look hot so all the straight guys will lose their heads. 

It's a bit more heavy-handed than just some over-used archetypes though, particularly when it comes to making Roman the guy that every girl wants — even when that's just him assuming they want him. Lil' Miss, again, suffers that treatment. “'Is she flirting?' he suddenly wondered. He hadn’t ever considered that she might like him, but if that was the case, he could use that to—” (57). In a similar situation played straight Chameleon, Roman's peer, is introduced with the statement that “She considered him a friend, and plainly wanted more than that" so Roman "continued to string her along” (45). It's that Ilia/Blake dynamic, just with added cruelty and a gender setup that carries completely different implications. Even the minor characters aren't safe from Roman's charms. Lisa Lavender — you know, Remnant's reporter? — receives flowers from Roman after she labels his robbery “one of the most brazen displays of lawlessness” she's ever seen (117). It's not presented as the villain being creepy though. When Roman contacts Lisa directly, we're given a verbal joke about her maybe interest. She loves... the ratings he brings in. Just the ratings. Of course. 

It's worth noting that Chameleon isn't just reduced to a silly crush whose love allows Roman to escape, she's also the character who "has" to be naked in order to make the most of her semblance. Despite writing in an Atlas cape that blends into various backgrounds, Myers still emphasizes the absolute necessity of this woman fighting naked: 

“She didn’t wear much clothing these days, both because it thwarted her natural camouflaging abilities, and because when she chose to show herself, it could be quite distracting... she stripped for added stealth—it wouldn’t be the first time” (81, 85). 

It's a writing choice that I personally despise. And make no mistake, it is a choice. In a world with magical abilities and futuristic tech, there's no reason to make the presumably young woman — we're never given an age, but Chameleon is written to be particularly naïve — getting naked in front of others, especially a man that is stringing her along. Clothes only "thwart" a magical ability when the author says it does. Why can't semblances make outfits camouflage too? Because then there wouldn't be an excuse for the hot women to strip. 

Particularly for more important characters like Lil' Miss or Lady Beat, these aspects are not the sum total of their characters... but there's enough there to be wince-worthy if you're already sick of such trends; already keeping an eye out for what RWBY writes in regards to gender. I think a good way to summarize Roman Holiday's idea of feminism is when Neo is staking out a coffee shop and Roman asks her to bring him a coffee when she comes back. She returns with an empty cup reading, "Get your own coffee." It's clearly meant to be this empowering moment — how dare the man ask for food like she's some servant! — except it's ruined by the context of the situation. Namely, that Neo is already at a coffee shop. And Roman isn't rude about asking for one. And they've already traded presents in the form of a crazy expensive parasol for her and a new hat for him. Asking your crime partner, who just happens to be a women, to pick up a coffee on her way home when it’s clearly not a hassle, is not the outdated insult Myers seems to think it is. And that's what a lot of these choices are: details that don't break the novel by any means, but come across as out of touch none-the-less. 

Part Nine: The End (Okay, This is the Final Section) 

The novel concludes with Roman and Neo flying off together, avoiding the authorities, nothing they have to do except "set the world on fire" (208). It's a rather bittersweet ending given Neo's certainty that no one will ever catch them because we know, eventually, Roman will die and Neo will be left alone. I quite like ending things on that optimistic note, both because it fits their current mindsets and because it adds that extra, emotional punch for the reader. Their story isn't done... but it will be soon. 

And thus ends my review as well! Review? Analysis? Little mix of both, I suppose. Hardly the most succinct thing I've ever written, but what did anyone expect. Final thoughts? I still liked the novel. Despite everything above — despite re-wading through eight major problems I had with the text, ranging from minor preferences to arguably massive mistakes — my overall takeaway remains, "I'm glad I read it." It's been a long time since I actively enjoyed a RWBY story; where my entertainment and appreciation of the writing outweighed the problems I had with it. I know I'm far from the only one currently dissatisfied with the canon, so if you're looking to re-ignite some of that old, RWBY spark? Give Roman Holiday a try. 

And, of course, thank you for reading! 💜

[blossom-hwa]

hi! i really liked your sungyoon fanfiction, light the pyres—apocalypse aus are great. very nervous to ask for your 4th anniv event but could i perhaps get kang yeosang + the title "3 of hearts?" (if anyone reading here knows what show it's from ily!)

hi love! light the pyres is actually one of the works I'm most proud of so it makes me so happy to hear that you liked it! thank you for your request - I'm not sure what 3 of hearts it from lol (maybe one of my followers does), but I hope you still enjoy this!

4 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/The Boyz/Golden Child/Ateez member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

I guess this could be seen as a sort of spinoff of Kingdom (read the series here) - I haven’t posted the next parts yet, but this takes place in the Queendom of Hearts, which is where Checkmate is set :D like Kingdom, it’s heavily inspired by Marissa Meyer’s book “Heartless” - the story of a queen who went mad over love >:)

Uh so TXT Yeonjun is technically here but please don’t take my characterization of him as anything even close to who he is irl.... just think of it as me taking just his name and slapping it on a character I made I’m sorry

~

Title: Three of Hearts

Pairing: Yeosang x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Triggers: mentions of blood and death (semi-graphic)

~

They said you were born under the three of hearts, a spell of kind fortune, a card of good omen. "Your child will be beautiful," the diviner said when she placed you in your mother's arms. "They will love deeply, and in return, they will be loved greatly."

It was a blessed birth for the Kingdom of Hearts, whose rulers, though loved, had not been able to secure an heir for many years. Already the conception of a child was a miracle - to have you born under such an auspicious card only heightened the excitement, cast even more light on a day already filled with laughter and joy. Your parents showered you with love, and as the years passed, you grew in blissful happiness, surrounded by those who adored you. And truly, it seemed you were the three of hearts personified - for with you were two boys, Yeosang and Yeonjun, your best friends, who followed you everywhere you went. 

It was inevitable, then, people whispered, that at least two of you would fall in love. 

At the age of six, seven, ten, even twelve, you could ignore this. You could play the innocent card that came so easily to those born under the three of hearts, bat your eyes and cock your head and ask “What do you mean?” in reply to the questions people asked - do you have a crush? I’m sure you do. It must be on one of the boys you’re always running around with, yes? But as you grew older and the question of to whom you would extend your hand in marriage became increasingly important, your eyes began to fixate on soft blond hair and warm brown eyes, smile widening in the presence of a deep, gentle voice accompanied by the loveliest sparkle in his eyes. 

The traits of a certain best friend and heir to the Kang family fortune. 

He offers a courtship under the flowering wisteria tree just under your window, pale cheeks tinted with blush as he stutters his way through a short confession. Your heart warms, lifts, bursts with joy as you accept with a smiling nod, rejoicing that you have found a match who will love you as much as you love him. Three of hearts, you think giddily - I will be loved as much as I give it.

The stages of courtship seem to pass by all too slowly and at the same time, all too quickly. Caught up in a whirl of fine clothes and presents and ceremonies, you fall asleep every night eager to wake at dawn, if only to see Yeosang’s face the next day. Every moment with him seems too short, and every moment with him feels too long. 

One afternoon under the wisteria tree, you complain of this. Yeosang laughs at your indignation, though when you go to hit his shoulder, he catches your fingers with soft, warm hands, before kissing your forehead gently. “It will be all right,” he murmurs, pulling away just enough for you to see the sparkle in his eyes. “We’ll have a lifetime together, after this.”

A lifetime. Born under the three of hearts, destined for a life of love and happiness, you believed it. 

So much, in fact, that you forget to watch out for the second best friend at your side. 

It never occurred to you to take caution with Yeonjun. He was your best friend. Even upon the announcement of your engagement, he only ever smiled and congratulated the two of you, knocking your heads together teasingly when you got too mushy for his taste. Yeosang even asked him to be one of the groomsmen when the wedding date was set. 

So you never notice the way Yeonjun’s gaze always lingers on you a little too long, the way his eyes darken whenever you place a chaste kiss on Yeosang’s lips. You do notice that he spends more and more time away from you, away from Yeosang as the wedding approaches, but it’s easy to put it down to affairs of the Choi family that you simply aren’t privy to. Perhaps something has gone wrong. Yeonjun would tell you about it in due time, wouldn’t he?

On the night before your wedding, you and Yeosang dance together under a sea of sparkling stars, white engagement outfits shimmering under the night sky. The people cheer. Your parents wipe away tears. You almost cry, too, wrapped in the warmth of Yeosang’s arms around your waist, his eyes smiling into yours. 

You part ways with promises of tomorrow and a lifetime hanging on your lips. When you finally fall asleep, it is to dreams of a beautiful future, complete with Yeosang by your side. 

Instead, you wake up in a world where he is dead.

They say the servant who found the body went mad afterward. You don’t blame them. When you saw the body covered in its rips and stains of red, it felt like a part of your mind simply disappeared. Scrambled. Something. All you could see was the body splashed with blood, unseeing eyes wide open and glassed with the sheen of death. 

And there’s no time to grieve, either, because the next day, the Choi family storms the castle with shouts of a coup and rebellion on their lips. 

All you can do is stare into Yeonjun’s stony expression as he orders the execution of your parents right before your eyes. 

He finds you in your rooms a week later, a beautiful prison of silk and satin that they took away so you wouldn’t hang yourself before he came. His eyes soften upon seeing you, but when he reaches out a hand, you slap it away. 

Only one word leaves your lips. “Why?”

Love, he says. Love for you. Love that burned fierce, hot, so unlike the soft warmth of Yeosang’s hand, love that burned so bright it couldn’t stand to fall second to the gentleness of Yeosang’s smile. His heart burned for you, beat for you, enough to plan all of this, enough to ask, even now - 

“Will you marry me?”

The wisteria tree outside your window is in full bloom under a bright, cloudless sky. A mockery of the day Yeosang asked for your hand and you gave him your heart. 

In the absence of blades and bullets, no one should underestimate the power that fingernails can do to raw skin and bone.

“You worthless, worthless human being,” you snarl, even as guards drag you back from Yeonjun’s bleeding face. “Worthless - worthless - I will never marry you -”

“You will,” Yeonjun snarls back, now a safe distance away from the blood caking your nails. “You will or you will die.”

You don’t die. You almost do, jamming the lock on your door and smashing the fortified window with a superhuman strength you believe Yeosang and your parents have lent you for one night, just one night before leaping into the branches of the wisteria tree, crashing to the ground in a heap of branches and flowers and glass. They nearly catch you - an arrow pierces your shoulder and another streaks so close it almost cuts off your ear - but you escape. And hide. For days, weeks, months...

Until you return with a sword and murder in your eyes, slashing through every guard on your way into the castle until you come across Yeonjun sitting upon your father’s throne, the crown of your family on his head. 

“Would you?” he whispers, the tip of your sword positioned over his heart. “Would you, truly?”

A blank smile curves your lips. “Of course,” you whisper. “Just the same way you would.”

They crown you queen with triumph in their eyes, songs of a royal who avenger their lover’s death when a jealous suitor got in the way. You listen to it with stony eyes and teeth gritted behind your lips, especially when they speak of the three of hearts, blessed above all, destined for a life of love -

There is no love left in your heart that wasn’t taken away with the death of Yeosang and your family.

You execute the Chois. You execute their allies. You root through the kingdom, imprisoning those with even a semblance of a relationship to the man who killed your love, who took the blessing of your card away. The songs die away, replaced by whispers of a queen gone mad with the loss of their love. Triumphant shouts of a blessed three of hearts turn into murmurs of a curse, a new meaning to your card - perhaps not one destined for love, but one whose life will end in tragedy. Pain. Suffering.

They are wrong. Your life was full of love, love that you gave on your own and love that was given by those around you. It was the cause of your happiness and the reason for your suffering - love killed Yeosang and your family, just as it killed the last bit of humanity in you. 

The words of the diviner mock your grief. 

“Your child will be beautiful.”

Not as beautiful as he ever was. 

“They will love deeply.”

Where did that get you? 

“And in return, they will be loved greatly.”

Where did that get him?

No longer do they speak of the three of hearts as a blessing, as a sign of blissful omen. Instead, they speak of it as a curse, a curse of love, a curse of madness, a curse of tragedy to follow at every bend. 

Good. They’re right.

The love that the heavens wrought never brought anything more than pain, anyway.

[ljblueteak]

Throwing my hat into the “Why did Paul and Jane break up?” ring. There have been fantastic posts on this already, but looking at the McCartney bios by Sounes and Salewicz back-to-back has given me a slightly different perspective (this could all need to be tossed out if anything else about them comes to light/there’s other material I’m not aware of, which is more than possible, but here’s what I’ve got for now!) 

The short version: I think they split up because of a lack of long-term compatibility that they both recognized as they got older. They also grew to prefer different lifestyles and possibly also had different ideas about whether/when to start trying to have children. By the time they split up, Paul had already realized, according to the joint interview with Jane described in Hunter Davies’ 1968 bio, that it was “silly” of him to have expected Jane to do what the other Beatles’ partners had done and give up her career after marriage (Paul describing his expectation as having been “silly” is in Davies 308-309. The observation that all the other women who had “married in to the band” had given up their careers because that was “expected by men of [the Beatles’ background]” is in Sounes 189). Jane having a career she wanted to continue after marriage seems to have been resolved as a possible impediment before the split. The Salewicz bio suggests that what *may* have been a factor was the question of children, with Jane not wanting them to interfere with her career. However, it’s not clear from that bio when this question came up for them--whether it was closer to the time of the split or whether it had been discussed and resolved prior to their engagement. I think these are the main reasons they split. I don’t think his many, many, many affairs helped at all, but I think the above reasons are the main ones.

Jane and Paul got together when they were quite young (Jane was 17 and Paul was 20) and their interests diverged in a few ways that really mattered as they got older. As the bios have suggested, Jane wasn’t really into rock ‘n’roll and really wasn’t into the drug scene. Paul was into both (understatement!). This likely contributed to the tension that people like Marianne Faithful witnessed between them. In addition to that, they both seemed to realize that they didn’t ultimately “click.” For bio excerpts and more, please see below!

In terms of not actually “clicking,”which would be enough reason to end a relationship on its own, imo, here’s what Jane Asher had to say (sourced from the amazing @thecoleopterawithana via @amoralto: 

“No, it wasn’t love at first sight on my side. It was several months before I felt at all certain. And of course, I was young. Only seventeen. Inevitably, one changes. After all, Paul himself was only twenty when we met.

“I knew in my bones that the break must inevitably come a long time before it actually happened. Although we had this emotional thing for each other, we found it difficult to be really happy together....”

Jane Asher, interview w/ Godfrey Winn for The Australian Women’s Weekly: Girl with a broken love affair. (April 23rd, 1969)

And here’s Paul in Many Years From Now: 

“During that period with Jane Asher I learned a lot and she introduced me to a lot of things, but I think inevitably when I moved to Cavendish Avenue, I realized that she and I weren’t really going to be the thing we’d always thought we might be. Once or twice we talked about getting married, and plans were afoot but I don’t know, something really made me nervous about the whole thing. It just never settled with me, and as that’s very important for me, things must feel comfortable for me, I think it’s a pretty good gauge if you’re lucky enough. You’re not always lucky enough, but if you can feel comfortable then there’s something very special about that feeling. I hadn’t quite managed to be able to get it with Jane....She was a very intelligent and interesting person, but I just never clicked. One of those indefinable things about love is some people you click with and some people who you should maybe click with, you don’t” (264, 452-453). 

In addition to their own words, there are differing takes from observers about Paul and Jane’s compatibility and reasons for the split. Artists like Jann Howarth, who along with Peter Blake made the Sergeant Pepper art and had known the Beatles for “four years” before that observes in the Sounes bio that:

“I thought [Paul and Jane] were adorable together. She was wonderful. She was a very calm person and, in the middle of all this, you felt she was a wonderful balance for him, and you felt she was his equal for sure. It didn’t feel to me as though Paul was the big deal and she was trembling along behind, whereas you felt that a bit with Pattie Boyd and some of the other gals. I mean Cynthia was left standing still, basically, by John. Whereas you felt Jane was an absolute equal to Paul and had a very supple mind” (131). 

Howarth sees them as “adorable” together and says that Jane’s “Paul’s equal for sure” and doesn’t suggest that this is a source of tension in any way.

Marianne Faithful, who frequently visited Cavendish with Mick Jagger, seems to imply in her autobiography that a major cause for the tensions she observed between Paul and Jane were related to Jane’s career aspirations and that Paul had wanted “an old-fashioned Liverpool wife,” which is what he got with Linda. However, I think it’s worth noting that while there had been tensions about Jane’s career, as detailed in the Davies bio (though Paul had also been really excited about and supportive of Jane’s career), Paul had already recognized that he had been being “silly.” Of course, there may have been continuing tensions related to it, but it sounds like Paul realized he’d been wrong on the whole. In addition to that, Marianne and Mick were part of the rock ‘n’ roll drug crowd Jane disapproved of, so these tensions between Paul and Jane that Faithfull observed may very well also have been related to Jane not being thrilled about more drug-using rock ‘n’rollers taking over her house.  

Here’s the bit from Marianne Faithfull’s book via The Guardian:

Visits to Paul and Jane Asher weren't quite as relaxed. They were a bit uptight, and there were constant little frictions, but that's what happens when couples start to come apart. In any case, I was in a very different position from the one that Jane found herself in. I'd done what Paul wanted Jane to do, and given up my career. I wasn't going on tour with the Old Vic; I wasn't taking any more movie roles and very few parts in plays. Jane was a serious actress and wanted to continue her career, but Paul had other ideas. That's why Linda was so perfect for Paul; she was just what he wanted, an old-fashioned Liverpool wife who was devoted to her husband. Whatever we thought of Linda - and she didn't make that great an impression on me - I think it was a credit to Paul that he didn't marry a model. Because that's what all the others have ended up doing, they've married these models. And they have children who also become models.

The Guardian, 6 October 2007.

In his bio of Paul (which doesn’t directly address Faithfull’s comments), Sounes doesn’t suggest that the perception that Paul would be happy to be with someone who was prepared to let their own career take the backseat, at least for a time, is wrong (I do think it’s important to mention that in addition to her Wings career and solo/with Paul songwriting work, Linda also did work that didn’t involve Paul’s career at all down the line, like working on her cookbooks and frozen food line). But Sounes does say that it was much more than that that drew Paul and Linda together:

“Anything Paul wanted to do seemed possible with Linda, or Lin as he called her affectionately. She had bucket-loads of American confidence, which he liked. Both were relaxed and open about sex...Lin dug rock ‘n’ roll in a way Jane never had and unlike Jane, this American girl wasn’t uptight about drugs. Although a modern, liberated woman in some ways, Lin wasn’t a committed careerist. She was already tired of scratching a living as a rock ‘n’roll photographer, more than ready to settle down with a man who could look after her and Heather” Fab (215). 

Paul was also ready to start a family. Indeed, John Lennon suggested that part of what drew Paul to Linda was the “ready-made family.” In the same interview where John pointed out that Linda could provide a “ready-made family,” he claimed that Jane was not ready for children: “If Jane was to have a career, then that’s not a cozy family, is it?” Chris Salewicz’s Paul bio also addresses this, saying:

“A source of considerable contention between Paul and Jane--perhaps the cause of those adverse remarks about the theatre to Joe Orton--was her insistence that having children would interfere with her acting career. Yet, now that Paul had everything he could possibly ever want, all that remained to fulfill his life was the presence of children, something he had always desired far more than the other Beatles” (199).

While we (or at least I!) don’t know whether Paul and Jane had discussed the issue of children before they got engaged, disagreements over whether or when to have kids contribute to a fair number of breakups to this day--and they had plenty of good reasons, from just not “clicking” in the right way to disagreements over drugs, to break up anyway. 

[wizardingworld-imagines]

Talk - Bill Weasley

Pairing - Bill Weasley x Fem!Reader

Requested? - Yes! by a lovely anon!

Word Count - 1.3k

Warnings - slight angst, mostly fluff

A/N - I had so much fun writing this! Bill is such an underrated character and I loved writing for him. Thank you for the request!

Sitting in the extra DADA tutoring with the other students was hard for Y/N. Mostly because she had to watch the other girls fawn over her secret boyfriend, Bill Weasley. Y/N was 18, in her last year at Hogwarts, and despite Bill being less than a year older than her, they decided to keep their relationship hidden, particularly as he had now graduated. They didn’t want for their relationship to be seen as scandalous. It was these brief moments in which Y/N asked herself if it was worth it, she barely got to see Bill, with him not living within the walls of the castle anymore. But the love she felt for his was far too great. And, she still had Charlie around, who invited her to the burrow every Christmas as his best friend. Although they were in different years, Charlie being in the year below Y/N, they formed such a strong connection. She could vividly remember the first time she spoke to Charlie. She was sat in the library, studying for an upcoming potions test, and across from her was this freckled, red headed boy reading a book on dragons. They got to know each other over and soon became fast friends.

Over the many winters and summers Y/N spent at the Burrow, she was always intrigued by Bill. There was something about him that allured her, she wanted to know more. They got to talking the summer before Y/N’s sixth year and there was some kind of spark, they could both feel it from the moment they said their first words to one another. That spark never seemed to die, and it was only inevitable that the two would confess their feelings for one another. They spent many nights in the Burrow, drinking tea and talking into the early hours of the morning, spending what little time they could together romantically, before they had to go back to being distant strangers.

The same thing happened when they went back to Hogwarts that year. Y/N was in her sixth year, Bill in his seventh. He was busier this year, having been appointed Head Boy, but he made his time for Y/N. He always would. Regardless of his prior engagements, he would ensure he spent some time with her.

It was hard for Y/N to know that she would have to face a year of Hogwarts without Bill, but she was soon alleviated of that struggle by the knowledge that he would be coming back to tutor DADA, whenever he could. Dumbledore had given him permission to use the classroom in the evening, to make sure students were understanding the course. Y/N, despite being top of the class for DADA, went along to the sessions. Occasionally, she would help other students, acting as a kind of teaching assistant/second tutor. This meant that Bill and Y/N got some alone time afterwards, as they would ‘discuss’ the progress of the students. The reality of the matter being they were spending some time together, discussing how they were, what they had been up to, spending the quality time they had been missing.

Y/N was blissfully unaware that the tutoring session had ended, she had been too focused on the thoughts in her mind, and the face that was in front of her the entire time. The classroom had emptied, except her and Bill. A smile danced across her features, realising she was alone with him, at last. The girls who had been gawking at him had just left after asking a couple of questions, though in actuality, both Bill and Y/N knew they were just trying to talk to him. She got up from where she was sat at her desk towards the side of the classroom, and walked towards him, throwing herself into his embrace. He was warm, holding her closely to him, wrapping his arms around her, engulfing her. The pair lingered, eventually parting after a couple of minutes. The room was silent, the two enjoying each other’s company, drinking in each other’s appearance. Until Bill said something unexpected.

‘Do you think we should be doing this?’ He asked, concern evident in his voice.

Y/N looked at him, bewildered and replied ‘Do you not want to?’

‘It’s not that I don’t want to, because I do, but I just feel like sneaking around isn’t working. You’re here, and I'm off out in the world of work, only visiting occasionally to tutor, we barely get any time together anymore’ He trails off, watching her features drop.

Her eyes teary, her vision a blur. Y/N opens her mouth, and yet no words come out. She’s speechless, she can’t say anything. He goes to grab her arm, to pull her back to apologise, but it’s too late. She stormed towards the door in a flurry of grief and anger, and before he knew it she was down the corridor, out of sight.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Charlie was listening to the ordeal from the doorway. He had come back to ask Bill if he was able to explain something about boggarts in more depth, but he had stopped at the doorway when he heard the voices of Y/N and his brother. That was before Y/N came rushing out of the classroom and started pacing down the hallway, tears streaming down her face. He knew what he had to do. He burst into the classroom. What awaited him was Bill, sat on the desk at the front with his head in his hands.

‘You’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life’ He says, strolling through the classroom, coming to stand in front of his brother.

Bill lifts his head from his hands, sorrow evident on his features. ‘How much of that did you hear?’ He asks, not really wanting to know the answer, as he was scared of it.

‘Most of it’ Charlie responds, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘I had my suspicions about you two. And to be perfectly honest, I don’t know why you’ve been hiding this for so long. Do you know how badly mum wants Y/N to be part of the family? She’s always assumed it would be me, but she’s my best friend. It’s clear you really care about her, i’d even go as far as to say you love her. So don’t let that go. Now, as Y/N’s best friend, take that as my blessing, and go and find her.’

Charlie’s words of encouragement were enough for Bill to find Y/N. He had to set this right. He darted through the corridors, looking for the sight of his wonderful girlfriend. Approaching the great hall, he caught sight of her, her hair whipping around her head as she walked down the corridor. He ran to her, tapping her on the shoulder gently.

‘What do you want Bill?’ she asks annoyed, turning to face him. ‘I thought you didn’t want to be seen with me’

He does the one thing he can think of, and he kisses her. Not a short, slow kiss, but a kiss full of emotion, full of passion. She leans in before she can think, and the two share a moment in the hallway.

‘I’m tired of hiding, I want everyone to know’ He states, as loud as he can.

‘You’re right, everyone does know. We’ve all just witnessed that’ Charlie responds from behind him, the doors to the great hall having been opened for the students to leave, before they were stopped in their tracks by the sight of Y/N and Bill. The pair blush a deep crimson, but knowing that they are together, unhidden from everyone, with their bright future just a short moment away. They had less than a year to go, and then they could spend the rest of their lives together. And the excitement for that outweighed how patient they would have to be for it.

[senadimell]

Boromir for the character ask?

send me a character and i’ll list:

favorite thing about them: Honestly? His focus. He's a problem-solver. He focuses on whatever task is in front of him, and while he's the golden child, I honestly don't know if he'd be the best fit for Steward because he seems to be at his best when he's thinking about concrete solutions to discrete problems.

Oh! The other thing is that he evaluates the advice given to him for what it is, not based on the authority of the advisor. He’s not going to accept bad advice just because it comes from a trustworthy source, and he’s going to be honest about his thoughts. So he’ll trust and respect the advice of the council of Elrond, but not to the point where he doesn’t ask questions or question things that don’t make sense (I’m thinking about Caradhras here) It’s a good skill to have as the de-facto heir to Gondor, and it makes sense that he’s not in awe of elves or Gandalf and acts among them as a guest but also as an equal at least in political status, though his experience is vastly more limited.

At the same time, he’s not arrogant or haughty. He's a team player. He’s supportive of decisions for the most part, though where the ring is concerned, things get skewy. He’s not the kind of person to rub mistakes back in your face. He’s compassionate and understanding (which we see even in the way he treats Frodo as he strives for the Ring).

least favorite thing about them: Honestly Boromir doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I suppose his positive traits are also double-edged swords. Focusing more on the advice than the giver sort of has Feanor vibes? And you can see where his focus leads him when he talks to Frodo about why he wants the ring and how he would use it. He can see his corner of the world (Gondor) and his place in saving it (political, but primarily military leadership), and it’s his practicality, drive, and focus that the Ring exploits. He’s too busy thinking about what he must do to save the day that he misses the grander scheme (yet he’s doing it because he cares! he cares!).

brOTP: Um, Faramir, I guess. Though I guess it’d be kinda sweet if he’s got a brotherly relationship with Bergil. I can easily imagine Bergil hero-worshipping Boromir, and so I think it’d be sweet if Boromir did acknowledge him and know him by name.

OTP: none? look, I rarely ship and even more rarely out of canon.

nOTP: also none? Shelob? The Ring?

random headcanon: I dunno...

unpopular opinion: boromir has dark hair Sean Bean is an actor he’s not the only face

So I feel like there’s a bit of a structural problem with the LotR fandom. Characters are often written in pairs or as foils, and inevitably the comparison starts to turn towards “who’s better?” Then, if you don’t ship them, there’s a tendency to aggrandize one character’s virtues and minimize their flaws (which tends to happen everywhere), but then the comparison game starts. Because they have a paired character, the natural next step is to lionize your favorite by de-emphasizing the other character’s strengths and virtues (and sometimes also highlighting their flaws). (I’m not immune to this by far, btw, and am possibly about to engage in it.)

This happen the most with Frodo and Sam, but I think you also see it in Boromir and Faramir. Because obviously, in the books, Faramir is the golden child. Not in his father’s eyes, of course, but narratively speaking. And I have mad respect for him.

Most people don’t try and diss Faramir (because frankly. it’s hard. like, what are you going to say?), but there’s a tendency to downplay the fact that Boromir is his culture’s golden child, and Faramir...isn’t. Which isn’t to say Faramir isn’t beloved by those who know him, but his strengths are not valued in the same way that Boromir’s are. Faramir knows this. And given Boromir’s attitudes discussed above (how confidently he assumes his position in the world), I can’t believe he’s the 100% supportive, loving, sensitive, protective brother that fanon depicts him as. I don’t see how he can be.

Don’t get me wrong, I do believe the brothers love each other deeply. But growing up with siblings has taught me that it’s possible to love someone and yet be deeply wounded by them due to the casual and inescapable intimacy of your relationship? You can share more inside jokes and weird stories than anyone, yet you can never get away from how deeply they know you--not your thoughts, but who you are at home and who you were when you were seven and how you acted when someone broke up with you or what you did when your parents were furious.

You also know exactly how you match up against them, because you will always exist as a unit. And because your relationship is as natural as the lens  in your eye (you can’t imagine viewing the world without it), you forget about the other as a person and just say something and don’t think about how it hurts them. You can joke about this one thing and your sibling can carry around the hurt for years and you didn’t even know. And maybe the hurt isn’t even your fault--maybe they were just sensitive and you had no way of knowing, but the hurt doesn’t go away for the lack of malice. And even best-friend siblings are capable of malice towards each other at times.

So Boromir is good at things that Faramir isn’t, and Boromir knows it. He’s probably ribbed his brother in what he thinks is a playful way about when you’re going to shape up, or do X, or do Y, or why do you do that, anyways, or do you realize that’s a little unbecoming? maybe you should stop that. You know Father’s going to think that you’re... And he doesn’t realize how those slights can add up over the years. I do think he’s said things to his peers about his brother that have ended up hurting him. No matter how pure and nice he is, that sort of thing is unavoidable, and due to his cultural upbringing I don’t actually think he’d question the appropriateness of his attitude/acceptance and glorification of martial prowess at the expense of those who don’t have it in the same degree.

I think this passage is really telling:

For on the eve of the sudden assault a dream came to my brother in a troubled sleep; and afterwards a like dream came oft to him again, and once to me. 'In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying:          Seek for the Sword that was broken:          In Imladris it dwells;          There shall be counsels taken          Stronger than Morgul-spells.          There shall be shown a token          That Doom is near at hand,          For Isildur's Bane shall waken,          And the Halfling forth shall stand. Of these words we could understand little, and we spoke to our father, Denethor, Lord of Minas Tirith, wise in the lore of Gondor. This only would he say, that Imladris was of old the name among the Elves of a far northern dale, where Elrond the Halfelven dwelt, greatest of lore-masters. Therefore my brother, seeing how desperate was our need, was eager to heed  the  dream and seek for  Imladris; but since the way was full of doubt and danger, I took the journey upon myself. Loth was my father to  give  me leave, and long have I wandered by roads forgotten, seeking the house of Elrond, of which many had heard, but few knew where it lay.' 

There’s so much you can read into this. Faramir has this dream, and he has it many times. We know he’s a lover of lore and no less devoted to his kingdom than Boromir, though his love is expressed differently. He is “eager” to heed the dream. So would I if I was having prophecy dreams all the time.

But is Faramir a member of the fellowship? No. Why? Because Boromir “took it upon himself.” He wanted to do it, he thought himself the better candidate (and Faramir the worse), and he argued his way into doing it against his father’s wishes. Coupled with Denethor’s later attitude towards Boromir, I’m inclined to believe Boromir was uniquely able to obtain this quest for himself because Denethor has a soft spot for him.

I find myself inclined to disregard Boromir’s account of Faramir’s motive (”how desparate was our need”), because it sounds like he’s justifying the appropriateness of his actions.  If it’s just about the great need of the kingdom, it’s nothing personal that one brother goes and the other stays. That view implies  that Faramir’s interest in this mission is primarily utilitarian in purpose, with a little academic curiosity--that is, it’s nothing personal. Doesn’t matter who goes! Not as long as we protect the kingdom! Which...just doesn’t square with his description of Faramir having repeatedly cryptic dreams that he wants to understand. I can almost guarantee that Faramir wants to know what those dreams meant more than Boromir.

It’s a bit tragic, because ultimately Faramir was more suited for the quest than Boromir (tramping about in the wilderness doesn’t seem to be a problem, he’s also a team player, and he’s much more willing to accept the power of the Ring/not downplay its personal danger, and would be able to see it in a bigger picture beyond just Gondor). Ultimately, though, if Boromir was the one to catch Frodo in Ithillien, the story would have a veeeeeeery different ending. (Gollum would likely be dead, and I can’t imagine he’d be inclined to just. let Frodo and Sam go free.)

I kind of view their relationship as a much less antagonistic version of Agravain and Gwalchmai from Gillian Bradshaw. (Agravain is more of a jerk than I can ever imagine Boromir being, and has a wicked temper). 

Also none of this is to say that I don’t think he’s not protective of his brother.

So a lot of words to say: I don’t think the Boromir and Faramir relationship is as uwu cinnamon roll as it seems in fandom. I think they loved each other, but I think Boromir did have a tendency to take what he wanted when he thought he deserved it and not give it a second thought, even when it was at the expense of his brother. Sure, he’d defend his brother night and day, but I expect him to be a bit of a jerk, be unaware of the extent of his behavior, and also see little wrong with it (the ring quest seems to have crossed a line, by the way he justifies it).

Still, they do love each other deeply and genuinely. It’s just a little more conflicted.

song i associate with them: Requiem, from Dear Evan Hanson. Not a particularly creative association (and I don’t associate him with Connor at all), but his death comes as such a shock at the beginning of TTT and brings with it so many mixed feelings due to both their relationship and the circumstances of his death. Nobody’s mourning is straightforward: not Frodo, or Denethor, or Faramir, or Aragorn, or Merry, or Pippin. His absense is woven throughout TTT and even RotK, in plot and in emotion and in theme.

favorite picture of them:

Don’t really have a favorite, but this one is nice.

The Sean Bean runners-up: one, two

[winterhawkwonderland]

2020 Exchange Round up!

It’s here!!! An easy to find complete list of works from our 2020 Winterhawk Wonderland Exchange event. It is listed by title of work and author or artist, and includes rating, summary, and word count (if applicable). Our event excluded any of the AO3 Big Four warnings, but please do check tags and warnings on each work before diving in, just in case you find something there that squicks or triggers you!

Once again, thank you all so much for participating and making this a great event! Love the Winterhawk fandom!

If you do not see your work listed, please contact the Mods and we will update the post - all works were pulled from the AO3 Collection, but it’s possible we overlooked something or made a mistake! Additionally - Tumblr (in true Tumblr fashion) would not let us tag some creators - their names are on the list but the hyperlink doesn’t work. We apologize for the technical difficulty, but have no way of fixing broken Tumblr links. Please know that no offense was intended. 

The 300 Club by @fosterthefuture for @gwhell. Rated T, 10,109 words “Me here?” Bucky asks, a little hysterically. “What do you expect me to do, be the one to haul your frozen body in from the snow bank you inevitably fall into and die in?”Clint chuckles, as though what Bucky’s asked is completely illogical, which it decidedly is not. “Nah, you can suit up if you want to come along to make sure I stay on track, but I’ll make it back just fine. I really just need you to be here to make sure the door stays open, help me get my boots off and into those blankets when I get back.”“Clint,” Bucky asks, eyes now closed. “Please tell me you wouldn’t do this if you were completely alone.”The silence that emanates from the sauna is telling.“Well,” Clint finally says, “I’m trying to not get into the habit of lying to you, Barnes.”

40k misunderstandings by @verdantbogmoth for @flawsinthevoodoo. Not Rated, 3,280 words. “Are they real?” Bucky gasps. “Who keeps bags of real rose petals just lying on hand?”“Tony, for special random events and for us to steal to have fun with,” Clint supplies helpfully. “Where do they go?”“Everywhere,” Bucky decides. “The couch, the table, the fucking tv stand.” Clint pops the bag and they spend several minutes turning Bucky’s living area into a very perfumed, petal draped nightmare. “Oh, my god.” Bucky says gleefully. “It looks like a porno,” Clint claps. “A serial killer porno!” Bucky amends. “This is fantastic. Why aren’t rose petals everywhere, always. Why don’t more people just throw them around for any old event?”

[ART] Christmas fluff by @elynehil for @chekov-in-a-dress. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift :)

[ART] Cooking By The Book by @not-the-blue for @thegrowingwordsmith. Rated G.  Clint attempts a holiday recipe from Bucky's childhood. He... might need a second attempt.

[art] i (heart) hawkeye by @gwhells for @lantaniel. Rated G. Art for lantaniel for the Winterhawk wonderland gift exchange!

[ART] i still feel this way when light catches your face by @quicksillver for @sevdrag. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift! :)

An Affinity for Elf Culture by @bella-dahlia for @trekchik. Rated T. 8,501 words. When Bucky Barnes was told he would be doing press and community outreach as part of his prosthetic program, no one mentioned to him it would involve dressing up like an Elf from the North Pole.The hella cute blonde elf in head to toe purple hadn't been brought up either.Hiding in his hoodie wasn't going to be an option, was it?

All I Want for the Holidays Is You by @merelypassingtime for @flowerparrish. Rated G. 7,205 words. Clint obligingly took the last name in the hat. Unfolding it he read the name, Bucky. Crap. What was he supposed to do with that? When Clint draws Bucky’s name for the Avengers holiday gift exchange, he struggles to find the perfect gift.

as long as it’s with you by @theproblemwithstardust for @theonlyceeceej. Rated T. 2,651 words. Clint didn’t know when the thing between him and Bucky became an actual thing. At some point the banter had evolved from a fun and engaging way to pass the time into a weirdly competitive game of flirting chicken.

A bad day turned good by @gabrielsammysangel for @misterknife. Rated G. 1,115 words.  Clint Barton was having a bad day, one kiss to take it all away. Aka how a full bad day can be wipped away when you have a good boyfriend.

Bandages and Soot by @fanbinbun for @hawkguyandthewinterdude. Rated T. 2,358 words. “Oh, you’re new. Hi! I’m Clint. I come here often.” “I have been warned.” Bucky said with amusement curling his lips. “Got a name, or should I just give in and start calling you ‘hot nurse’?”

Because of Coffee and a Chocolate Doughnut. by @jazzrose343 for @loonyloopylisa. Rated M. 5,257 words. Bucky is an Actor. Clint is stunt actor and coordinator. Shenanigans Happen

Better Than Fine by @vexbatch for @theproblemwithstardust. Rated T. 4,439 words. Clint promised Kate he'd bring a plus one to her engagement party, but now he needs to find one. Maybe Bucky will do him a favor? Maybe Clint's crush on Bucky won't be a problem for said favor?

[ART] The Cat doesn't agree by @misterknife for @Inktastic1711. Rated G.  5 words. Clint was determined to get the best family photo this year. Except now he's pretty sure that fighting alien hoards or doombot armies might actually be easier than wrangling a cat into a sweater.Bucky says that Alpine's sorry.Clint thinks she might kill him in his sleep.

cause it's just what you must do by @sevdrag for yamyamyam. Rated T. 3,399 words. Clint ducks away at Tony's holiday party for a breather. Little does he know this closet is occupied.

Christmas With the Barnes's by @jstabe for @claraxbarton. Rated T. 3,163 words. He knows Clint is nervous. If he’s honest, he is a little too. He and Clint have been dating just shy of two years but with their hectic work schedules, it’s rare for them to have full days off together so Clint isn’t used to large family gatherings.

The Common Room by @trekchik for @nana-evans. Rated E. 1094 words. No one knows they're together. Right?

Communication is key by @averyrogers83writes for @harishe-art. Rated G. 3,434 words. Bucky screws up and pisses Clint off possibly ruining any chance of having more than a working relationship with the archer.

[ART] Cookies For Two by madnerding for @hopelessly-me. Rated G. 29 words.  My prompt was for cookie decorating and I hope I delivered. Enjoy!

Coping Mechanisms by @mariana-oconnor for @feathers-and-cigarettes. Rated E. 4,321 words. After the events of Freefall, Clint Barton is exhausted, bruised and on everyone's Most Wanted list. Luckily, or unluckily, it's Bucky Barnes who ends up finding him.

Cover Me by @downwarddnaspiral for @feedmecookiesnow. Rated M. 8,618 words. Clint and Bucky end up off the grid and in close quarters. Featuring the world’s crappiest safehouse, a semi-retired spy, and an assassin with strong opinions about the cold.

Delicate, hand wash only by @mollynoble for @pherryt. Rated E. 6,074 words.  “Hey, Buck, what do you need?” Clint moved closer, he wanted to reach out but he resisted the urge, that could be a bad idea right now. “What can I do to help?” He pitched his voice low and soothing. There was a pause, then Bucky's eyes focused on him. “Right now all I want is a bath and then sleep.”

Draw Me Like One of Your Frenchmen by @alchemistdoctor for @thwip. Rated M. 1,410 words. This is written for andthwip in the winterhawk wonderland exchange, who requested sexting during inappropriate times, date night ends in trying a new kink, or getting off in the field. I managed the first two!

Fate or Natasha by bear_shark for @kidd-you-not. Rated G. 1,663 words.  How it ended: Bucky watched the rise and fall of Clint’s chest while he slept. Every few minutes, he would snuffle and rub his face against Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s phone pinged, and he carefully checked his texts. Natasha: How did your date with Clint go? Bucky sat up quickly, jostling Clint. “What the hell?” 

The Fight Before Christmas by @theonlyceeceej for @jstabe. Rated E. 4,040 words. Now, don’t let it be said that Bucky couldn’t take a joke. He could. Really. But sometimes it was just too much. Clint was just too much. Clint is the epitome of a schoolboy with a crush; Pulling pigtails, calling names, the lot! Ok, maybe it was more than a crush, judging by the many thoughts about being thrown around by the Winter Soldier. He just needed to get his attention... But will it work?

For This by @endof-theline for @elynehil. Rated G. 5,652 words. Bucky and Clint are moving in together and it's not just the boys we have to worry about, because Lucky and Alpine are moving too!

Getaway Car by @feedmecookiesnow for @genderfluid-and-confuzled. Rated G. 4,405 words. The guy regains his balance and starts running again. He slips one more time, slides a little more, and then suddenly he’s right next to the car, fumbling at the handle of the passenger side door. A blast of cold wind comes as he yanks it open, practically falling into the seat in a swirl of snowflakes. “Go, go!” he yells, and Clint goes. He doesn’t even question it, just slams the car into drive and shoots out into the street, skidding a little on the ice.

Guardian Angel by @chrissihr for @spacetimeconundrum. Rated T. 3,469 words. Clint attracts strays like moths to flame. All he wanted to do was bring home a puppy he found in a box marked ‘free’ in crayon. It was just sitting out in the rain under the awning in front of his neighborhood pizza place.He couldn't just leave it there ... right?

Hit Me With Your Best Shots by @thegrowingwordsmith for @fosterthefuture. Rated G. 2,185 words. As a barista, Bucky has witnessed a lot of crazy customers and their creations. He has made drinks with so much syrup that there was barely room for coffee, and gotten orders with so many modifications that it had to print on multiple stickers. None, however, even came close to the strangeness of Too Much Caffeine guy.

[ART] How do you like them apples? by @lantaniel for @vexbatch. Rated G.  Because Clint is incapable of 1.doing a calm activity, and 2.not climbing a tree.

Howl by @drgrlfriend for @mariana-oconnor. Rated T. 9,729 words. Excerpt: Bucky gets that uncomfortable feeling again, like he missed something. Lost time maybe. It’s been happening less and less, but it still happens. “I don’t know what you mean.” The man runs a broad hand up the back of his neck, mouth pulling to the side as he seems to consider his words. “Skin feels too tight sometimes? Feels like you gotta keep moving, but no place feels right? Got an ache deep in your bones that you just can’t seem to get rid of?” “What —” Bucky swallows, the rest of the sentence jagged in his throat. He knows there are Avengers who are witches, or telepaths, or whatever, but he’d never heard of Hawkeye being one of them. “How are you — are you in my head? —”

[ART] I got you by @vexedbeverage for @gabrielsammysangel. Rated T. 100 words. I decided I wanted to do some art but then my writing brain told me I couldn't stop there. I've never done a drabble before so I thought I'd give it a try!

I Love How Your Soul is A Mix of Chaos and Art by @flawsinthevoodoo for @merelypassingtime. Rated T. 5,745 words. This is basically a 5+1 where Clint "Borrows" a great many hoodies as a coping mechanism and Bucky decides Clint needs to be a part of his life, not just his laundry.

if these wings could fly by @flowerparrish for @hawksonfire. Rated M. 4,018 words. He waits a few moments, pretty sure he’s going to have to start knocking again, when the door swings open. There’s Bucky, shirtless, disheveled, wings spread out behind him like some kind of tragic painting of an angel. Not that Clint knows much about art, but with the dark colors and dim lights he thinks this could totally have been something one of those old dudes dreamed up.

It Must be Winter in my Heart by @harishe-art for @jazzrose343. Rated G. 3,055 words. It's the holiday season and for some reason Clint and Bucky keep getting mistaken as a couple. They hadn't even planned to meet up most of them time. Why does this keep happening to them?

It was Only a Winter's Tale by @harishe-art for @averyrogers83. Rated G. 1,628 words.  Clint and Bucky prepare to celebrate their first winter holiday together when Bucky has a realization during an argument.

it was peace by @loonyloopylisa for @drgrlfriend. Rated G. 1,932 words. “Um, hi, I’m Bucky?” he said, hating himself for the way it came out like a question. “Hi Bucky,” the man answered, a wide smile on his tan face, “I’m Clint. What can I do for you?” Inwardly thankful for this therapist for making him practice he said, “I was wondering if you had any volunteer opportunities?” Clint gave him a considering look, bright blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Bucky was sure he was assessing him and finding him lacking, taking in the missing arm and coming up with a reason Bucky wouldn’t fit in. He was bracing himself for the rejection when Clint said, “sure.”

A Kind of Magic by @sian1359 for bear_shark. Rated G. 7.034 words. Bucky has some help adapting from being Hydra's Winter Soldier to becoming the Avenger's Winter Soldier

Lilac you a lot by @hawkguyandthewinterdude for @harishe-art. Rated T. 6,490 words.  It starts with one purple sock and just escalates from there.

Lost Time by @lissadiane for @vexedbeverage. Rated T. 10,029 words. Clint’s always known the universe doesn’t like him all that much. But all he knows now, as his heart beats out a rhythm and there isn’t a heartbeat to harmonize with it, is that he’s found his soulmate -- and he’s been dead for over 70 years. It’s ironic. It burns. It shouldn’t surprise him. Barney won’t be surprised. Barney’s been saying the universe has it out for them for Clint’s whole life. And this is just further proof. In which soulmates exist but Clint's parents are proof that sometimes, they go terribly wrong.

The Maybe To Your Story by @kangofu-cb for @mollynoble. Rated E. 5,162 words. Bucky walked out of the shared bathroom whistling under his breath, happily ignoring Steve’s groan as he whipped off the towel around his waist to half-assedly swipe at the water droplets on his shoulders. “Oh, you’re still here?” he asked blithely, toweling at his hair. “Might want to shake a leg before you get an eyeful of something you want to see even less than my dick.” “I’m going, I’m going,” Steve grumbled. “Fuck. Can’t believe I’m getting sexiled for the third time this week. For Barton.” Or, instead of talking about their feelings, Clint and Bucky decide to fuck about it.

my hands no longer an afterthought by @shatteredhourglass for @quicksillver. Rated T. 2,922 words. Bucky's moving on with his life. Shaking off the Soldier. There's still that one nagging, blond idiot-shaped regret, though.

Nowhere to go but with you by Lacerta for @sian1359. Rated G. 5,905 words. Clint fights the urge to cross his arms, keeping them hanging loosely by his sides instead, and forces himself to relax his shoulders. It’s just a small precaution in case he needs to react fast but, god, he hopes it doesn’t come to that. He doubts any precaution that doesn’t include a loaded weapon would help him last more than a minute. He watches the man sitting across the kitchen table from him, curled in on himself under Clint’s warmest blanket with his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, and tries to wrap his head around the very unusual, very alarming situation he has gotten himself into.

On The Fifth Day of Christmas, The Winter Soldier Stole For Me..... by @ch3ls3ara3 for @alchemistdoctor. Rated T. 8,178 words.  “Are these pears? Why the hell is there a pear tree in my apartment?” he asked Lucky who was now sitting patiently, staring up at the bird with his tongue hanging out and tail wagging. “What is happening?” Clint Barton knew he was a disaster, it never really shocked him anymore when he ended up in strange situations. These twelve days leading up to Christmas, though? Those days he would have never seen coming.

the one where Clint hates christmas horror by @thwip for @bella-dahlia. Rated M. 2,898 words. “We take turns, Clint. This week is Nat’s turn, next week is yours,” Tony quips, sipping from his own mug. “We can watch The Holiday, for the third year in a row, then.” Clint opens his mouth and starts to protest Tony’s eye roll because The Holiday is a cinematic masterpiece and Kate Winslet may give her best performance yet, Tony! Not to mention Cameron Diaz! Singing Mr Brightside! It’s a great film, when the front door opens and Bucky and Steve walk in, laughing about something. Clint's mouth snaps shut and his eyes immediately flicking towards Bucky, admiring the way the navy fabric of his henley clings to the thick biceps that are almost bursting out of it.

Operation Snowbound by RedTeamShark for @heartonfirewrites. Rated G. 4,048 words. The mission is a simple job: tag a convoy as it drives through the pass and then skedaddle back down the mountain. Easy enough that Clint could do it in his sleep. And he doesn’t even have to pull the trigger, that’s what Bucky’s there for. Until an unexpected weather event leaves the two of them stranded on a mountainside in a blizzard, battling the cold, Clint’s taste in coffee, and Bucky’s idea of idle conversation.

Outside the World by @pherryt for @verdantbogmoth. Rated G. 4,767 words. Bucky doesn't really remember who he is, and what little he does remember is impossible. All his therapists have said so. There's no way he can be who he thinks he is - a character from a children's book.And yet, the world around him just doesn't *feel* right - its too dark, too colorless and doesn't match the vibrancy of his dreams. Dreams he tries to capture both on paper and on his walls.Bucky doesn't have any answers he can count on, just the hat he's kept all these years, but that guy that started following him - as vibrant and eye-catching as the pieces of Bucky's dreams -Well, he just might.

The Prince's "Delivery Boy" by allyouneedissleep for @endof-theline. Rated T. 4,917 words. He wouldn’t have any issues at all with the secrecy rules stating that only people in confirmed legal marriages could tell their significant other about their job if he was planning to marry anyone except the Prince who was first in line to take over as King of Brooklyn after his marriage went through. Clint was about to effectively become Queen of Brooklyn and he couldn’t even tell his fiance what he did for a living. As far as Bucky knew, he was a delivery boy. A DELIVERY BOY.

[ART] Snow Way Out! by @inktastic1711 for @fanbinbun. Rated G. 24 words. Prompt: While on a mission, Clint and Bucky end up on an impromptu sledding trip down the snowy hill/mountain to escape the bad guys. Bonus points if the sled isn't actually a sled.

Snowed In by @chekov-in-a-dress for @ch3ls3ara3. Rated T. 4,332 words.  Secret Santa Story for CarafeOfColdBrew! Dad Bucky and his daughter Nat are on their way to Bentonsport where Bucky is supposed to check out a possible site to build a resort when they get overwhelmed by a snowstorm. How lucky that they get pointed to a bed and breakfast owned by a certain handsome dork.

So much to say (I just can't speak) by @hopelessly-me for Allyouneedissleep. Rated T. 3,260 words. Bucky has never considered himself the jealous type. But when Steve and Clint start hanging out more and more, Bucky starts pulling back to protect his own feelings.

Some Luck by @claraxbarton for @not-the-blue. Rated T. 3,558 words. “Cowboys?” he asked. Judith smiled at him. “I love to give my darlings what they want.”

a storm is comin' in by @heartonfirewrites for @chrissihr. Rated T. 9,686 words. Sasquatches don’t exist. Clint is sure of it. So what’s that fuckin' bigass yeti doing outside Tony’s upstate cabin in the middle of a nor’easter, looming ominously and ruining Clint’s plans for a quiet Christmas alone with Lucky?

Time and Time Again by @pherryt for @shatteredhourglass. Rated E. 6,497 words. The past has a way of catching up to people and Clint knows that better than most. Despite that ingrained life lesson, he still doesn't expect it when a part of Steve's past turns out to also be part of Clint’s. He's... not sure where to go from here.

too cold to feel (but i know you're there) by @hawksonfire for @trashcanakin. Rated T. 1,983 words.  Clint’s been cold his whole life. He doesn’t mind, really, has learned to always keep a pair of gloves on him, even in the summer. He gets weird looks for it, but he stopped caring what people thought of him a long time ago. His apartment has always got spare blankets laying around, and his dresser is jam packed with thick pairs of socks.

[ART] A Walk in the Woods by @spacetimeconundrum for @downwarddnaspiral. Rated T.  One finds the strangest things in the woods...

What's a Guy Like You Doing in a Place Like This by @sevdrag for @kangofu-cb​. Rated T. 8,091 words. A 5+1 fic for Winterhawk Wonderland: Five Times It Wasn't A Date, and One Time It Actually Was.

Word Search by yamyamyam for RedTeamShark. Rated T. 3,858 words. Bucky doesn't understand why he should have to see a doctor about a measly little bullet wound. Steve doesn't understand why that would be optional, Jesus Christ, Buck, we can have nice things now. Clint doesn't understand why he can't visit Bucky in the super-secure lockdown ward. The NYFD doesn't understand why Clint can't get out of a baby swing without the jaws of life. Natasha doesn't understand why she puts up with any of these idiots.

[ART] You Come Here Often? by @trashcanakin​ for Madnerding. Rated G.  winterHawk in the vents.

You had me at Loathing by @kidd-you-not​ for Lacerta. Rated T. 5,715 words. "What?" he asks absolutely no one, completely baffled. Movement to his left catches his eye and he twists around, still hanging from the balcony railing by his legs, and gapes. There, right there on the adjourning apartment building, is a man. A man clad all in black, with chestnut brown hair falling to his chin and a mask covering the lower part of his face. Holding a sniper rifle in his right hand and giving Clint a mocking little salute with the left. "Motherfucker!" Clint screams. Hawkeye and the Winter Soldier work for competing companies. Unfortunately for everyone involved, they cross paths on more jobs than either of their handlers can endure.

Honorable Mention:

The Opposite of Love by @teeelsie-posts for @loonyloopylisa. Rated E. 10,000 words. You know that social media post where the guy says he’s a felon and he’ll come terrorize your family for Thanksgiving in exchange for a free meal? Yeah, that’s what this is. Except that Clint is Clint, and Bucky is Bucky, and they’re both Avengers, but Clint’s family is a bunch of assholes and Bucky decides to help him out with that. Oh, and it’s Christmas, not Thanksgiving. Mod Note: This fic was begun for last year’s exchange then discarded for another idea, but Teeelsie finished it unexpectedly and asked permission to include it in this year’s collection and we were happy to allow that. Please enjoy!

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Let him go, pt.2

Summary: When Nick decided to keep Y/N out of the loop regarding Lucifer Morningstar, he never imagined one of his worst fears would come to life - to lose her.

Warnings: ANGST

Word count: 2.2k

Part 1

“I can go in there.” I spoke up, annoyed sitting on the sidelines and being kept out of the loop. If Nick had anything to do with it, I’d have ended up either dead or in the church with the rest of them. I was lucky not to be at the Academy when the hunters came, even luckier I had found a pastime with a riveting Summoning and Bounding literature masterpieces.

“No. Not gonna happen.” Nick waved me off, not bothering to spare me a glance and I scoff.

“Why not?” Harvey raised an eyebrow, eyeing me with interest. He definitely had questions.

“Yeah…Why not?” Folding my arms across my chest, I tilt my head to the right ever so slightly with the faintest, coldest smile I could muster.

“Because I don’t want you there.” Nick’s lips press together and I roll my eyes, but Sabrina was faster than me with her reply.

“I’ll go. I was baptized with holy water, remember?” She smirked, shrugging my way.

“So was I.” I raise my hand, stating it a bit too bitterly. Jealousy isn’t easy, especially not when it’s between two women who greatly respect each other.

“I am half angel. I reckon I have a good chance to stop them.” Yet my mouth keeps moving as if I want to say YOU’RE NOT THAT SPECIAL SPELLMAN, but I don’t say it. I don’t, but I can sense someone’s in my mind, probing for answers. Usually I’d assume it’s the Weird sisters, but this is Ambrose. I just know it.

“NO. They despise nephillims more than witches!” Nick raises his voice, turning to me with a hostile look in his usually loving eyes. The hostility doesn’t come from anger or hate, it’s not animosity, rather worry. It’s fear. “I will.” Sabrina repeats with a sigh, glancing between Nick and me. His eyes remain on me, lips pursing as the eye contact breaks and I finally feel like I can breathe. “You’re not seriously gonna let her go alone, are you? It’s a suicide mission.” Harvey’s eyes wander to me, pleading. He wants me to go, especially after he heard of my roots – a half witch is usually less than impressive, but a half angel with witch blood is unseen. Well…until I appeared. “You don’t seriously think I tell her what to do, do you?” Nick smirks, shrugging it off. He watched them leave, his back turned to me and I felt uncomfortable for the first time since I’ve met him. Nick had let his girlfriend go, yet asked me to stay.

“I couldn’t…I can’t risk you. You’re all I have in this wretched life and if something happened to you, I don’t think I’d survive it.”  

His words aimed for my heart and I flinch with the sheer intensity of the truth hidden within each, emotional syllable. It was the first time he had made me feel as if I matter since Sabrina came along. I felt loved. I felt needed.

It didn’t last.

A week later he and I parted ways.

Nick stayed true to his word, giving me space to breathe and he had his hands full with the new Sabrina and her wish to convert the coven into a church per her father’s view. She wanted to make a difference and while I agreed with some of the teaching, I didn’t fall prey to her charm. Something didn’t feel right and while I was expertly kept out of the loop, I had time to realize how much of my life revolved around Nick.

What little I had left of him felt as if it never existed.

I can’t lie and say he didn’t reach out a few times. It wasn’t a face to face talk, but I did get a few messages on my arm – a little secret we used to have. An enchanted pen to talk in class, when he was away for holidays. It was our way to always stay in contact and from what I’ve learned, he had given our secret away when he made the same pen and gave it to Sabrina. I was no longer our thing. It was just a thing.

“You really should be more careful with your thoughts.” Ambrose Spellman settles beside me, a small smile playing on his lips as if he isn’t here to reprimand me for the distasteful thoughts I’ve had about his cousin.

“Stop peering into my mind and you won’t be as insulted.” I shrug, turning my attention back to the book I’ve been studying. I have always been one of the best students at the Academy. I’d go as far as to claim I’m at the same level as Nick, if not better.

“You do realize Nick is miserable without you.” Ambrose leans on his elbow, smirking once he notices I closed my eyes. “He’s always talking about you. I’m genuinely concerned Sabrina will spell his mouth shut.” He chuckles, looking around as if to make sure we’re alone. “I mean, there’s an apocalypse happening and in an hour, yet he’s still only interested in threatening everyone not to tell you a single word about it.”

Snapping the book shut, I sit up straighter and turn to Ambrose. “What, in the name of Satan, are you talking about?!” The smallest of smiles appear on my lips, assumptions of it being a well-crafted lie making my heart remain steady. However, the smallest inkling of it being a truth thrashed my usually peaceful mind.

“Sabrina’s father, aka Satan, wants to make her his queen and from what I’ve realized, it is happening tonight and we made plans to trap the dark lord but I have a feeling it might not be as easy.” Ambrose pauses as he notices me pale and I’m sure I’m barely keeping a straight face at this point. “Everyone’s in it, but you. Even the mortals.” Ambrose leans back, having set the bait and he knows this will be the reason why I engage.

“We’ll be waiting. You might want to pop in for the coronation.” Ambrose raised both hands in mock surrender as if he didn’t just drop a major bomb my way. He made his way out of the library while I grabbed my bag and frantically searched for the pen.

CORONATION?!

No response.

NICK!!

No response. I know he sees it. I know he feels it. But if he knew me, he knew it would only provoke me. Just because we lost each other doesn’t mean I don’t love him – as a friend, as a woman. I need him, even if he doesn’t really need me back. He may think he does, but he doesn’t.

I am the one who needs his whispers and smiles. I’m the one who needs promises sweet as the touch of his hand. I was a slow dying flower, turning sour and untouchable when he found me. He saved me. And ever since then I’ve needed the darkness, the sweetness and even now I need the sadness and weakness coming from loving him. I need his voice to lull me to sleep, his fingers running through my hair, the tender touches that brought me peace.

I need him. It was dark enough, he saw me, he had me – he just didn’t want me. He made his choice and I know what that choice brings. He’ll do anything for Sabrina. It’s who he is, how he always wanted to love and he will risk everything.

At the end of the day, I’m the one who has nothing left to lose. He has everything to live for. I love him enough to let him go…to protect him while I do it.

With a snap of my fingers, a long, blood red dress wraps around my body. The lace weaves around my arms into long sleeves, the silk falling down to my feet. A slight chill runs down my spine as wind dances along my uncovered back and I smile – the dress is perfect. With a sigh, a spell the only earthly possession I care about onto my neck, the pendant with his initials resting just above my low-cut decollete.

“So you always have me close to you.” Nick smiles widely and my heart stops. He’s so beautiful. I wonder if he knows that he’s more than just a body though. He’s beautiful, inside and out. And he’s gifting me jewelry, something I’ve never had. How did he know?

Struggling to keep my tears in, I smile, looking down on the half a heart pendant. “I love it.”

I love you. I wanted to tell him. I did. I wanted him to know and to hell with it, but I couldn’t. To be so brave, to tell him what weighs on me is to risk losing him. He’d be uncomfortable around me if he didn’t feel it and I couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not ever.

Instead of waiting for an invite, I followed the screams.

“Lanuae Magicae.”

Transporting myself into the ballroom wasn’t the plan, but I had to hurry. And I was right to.

“Well played, Spellman.” I hear Nick’s voice, instinctively looking for him and it seems as if he had felt me too as he turns to me, our eyes meeting. The surprise passing his features made my lips twitch, wanting to smile. It’s inevitable – Nick always makes me smile. But our reunion is cut short, the prison they tried to hold Satan in falling apart and I step back, looking to Nick in a panic, but he’s looking at her. He always is. “You try and try to defeat me. I am the Great Satan that no prison may contain!” Ignoring how handsome Lucifer is, I close my eyes and swallow thickly. Opening them again, I look at him and every time I look at him I know. I know he’s never going to be mine. But I can make sure he has his happy ending. “I can’t restrain him for long.” Sabrina warns and I take a step closer while Nick speaks. I always believed he’d be back to me – that we’d become more in time and we’d work out. We’d be the couple everyone envies – the power couple. I always wondered how he looks at me with so much love and tenderness but holds not romantic feelings. “There’s nothing stronger than an Acheron.” Nick exclaims, panic written on his face, fear rising in his eyes and clouding his judgment.

“Incorrect, Mr. Scratch. The mightiest prison is the first one, created by the False God. The human body. Flesh and bone. The strongest and most sacred bindings in nature.” Lilith explains, her own fear evident as she looks to Lucifer who was ready to kill everyone in the room. “It has to be me.” Sabrina says and I hear him scream “No” as he used to do for me. He doesn’t want to lose her. He can’t. He’d do anything for her and I’d do anything for him. “I’m the best binder and conjuror since Edward Spellman. If anyone can keep Him trapped, it’s me.” He exclaims, but I shake my head and look back at him only to see anything but certainty in his eyes. He feels like he must do it.

“No.” I step forth, determined – more than he is. “I am the best binder and conjuror.” Smiling, truthfully, I speak before he can interrupt me. “You love her. I love you. This is a testament to how much. Don’t forget me.” I plead, keeping my eyes on him as his lips quiver and shock paralyzes him. “Carne teneantur tenere tenebrasque.” I begin without so much as blinking. I don’t want to miss a single moment of the last time I will ever see him. Nick is trashing against someone. They’re holding him back. He’s muttering something and I can’t understand what, my focus must remain untouched. “Palatium, carcere…” And my mind darkens.

Gasping, I find myself on the sidelines, my body no longer mine to control as I leap toward Sabrina only for my eyes to close with Ambrose’s spell. “A sleeping spell. Well done.”

I think to myself, keeping an ear out to the outside. I can hear them, but it’s distant.

“You’ve made a big mistake, little nephillim.” Lucifer appears and I roll my eyes at him.

“Shh.” I point up, telling him to listen which only insults him.

“HOW DARE YOU TELL ME TO SHUT UP?!”

“Gah, you’re annoying.” I groan, casting a spell to bind him but it doesn’t work.

“Really thought you’re in control? Think again, little one!”

“Shit!”

What I didn’t know is how they decided my fate after I’ve fallen. “What happens now?” Sabrina asks, watching Nick crying over Y/N’s body, calling for her, muttering spells like it would make a difference. “You won’t like it, I’m afraid.” Lilith frowns, a sincere look of compassion in the borrowed eyes of Mary Wardwell.

“You’re not touching her!” Nick growls, his eyes focusing on her pale face and dark red lips – his favorite lipstick from the past times she’d asked for his opinion. He always chooses maroon. He won’t be able to again.

“She’s not going to Hell with you. I will make an impenetrable room at the Academy.” Nick promised, his heart aching and breaking at the sight of his necklace resting on her chest. She wore it – even now.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.” And that’s when Nick fell asleep too.

PART 3

[daffodildazaiwrites]

can i pls request poly hcs for chuuya/reader/dazai bc i love them very much and also i just wanna date them both. perhaps just like “how they met” + cute relationship hcs if that’s ok!! nsfw is optional! Thank u so much ^^

THIS IS SUCH A GREAT REQUEST! Thank you so much anon! Also since I felt like it would be easier to establish a relationship like that I took the liberty of making the reader a part of the Port Mafia. It just seemed easier then to write reader as a part of the agency,  I hope you enjoy, this was super fun to write!!!! Also I love writing poly relationships so feel free to requests more!

also ofc im writing nsfw it’s a shame that you even considered that i might not lol

Warning: Explicit sinful content at the end

Commissions | Ko-Fi

Your relationship with Chuuya was already well established on the day you met Dazai. Your relationship with Chuuya was of being flirty friends that always came to the edge of being something more. You weren’t going to lie, after working with the red head for so long you had developed a minor crush. 

Meeting Dazai for the first time was one of the most confusing instances that happened to you. First of all, for someone who was imprisoned by the Port Mafia he had quite the mouth on him and second you’ve never witnessed Chuuya act so irrationally annoyed at someone before. At least someone other than you. 

You’ve heard many stories about Dazai Osamu before, especially from Chuuya. You’ve expected the man to, at least, look more threatening. But after the interrogation began you noticed where his true weapon layed, his mind. That same weapon was the reason why you were so mesmerized by him. You could never admit this to Chuuya though. Dazai was the enemy and from the seeming of it, Chuuya absolutely despised him. 

Dazai, noticing your lingering stares and open body language, was quick to engage in conversation. He was much more flirtatious then you anticipated and to be honest, it kind of worked. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you looked the other way. Dazai wasn’t the only one to notice your reaction. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“What?”

Meanwhile Chuuya was the embodiment of mixed emotions. Seeing Dazai after so long made him want to kick his face in to the wall and hug him. He was highly confused about the latter. But his rage grew when Dazai shamelessly flirted with you and that it worked????? he was appalled.

He never acted on it but he kind of figured you had a crush on him but apparently you also are head over heels about Dazai? He took in a deep breath. He might’ve over exaggerate the second part a bit. 

After the encounter, Dazai visited both you and Chuuya frequently and as time passed it was harder and harder to consider Dazai as the enemy. Even Chuuya didn’t seem surprised anymore that the man just showed up in your shared apartment. After a certain hour the two of you grew accustomed to hear a knock at the window. 

The only issue was that Dazai and Chuuya fought all the time. It was tiring for you. Especially when their competitiveness over you grew, you felt like a toy that was trying to be shared among two toddlers. 

The first sudden realization that you might have feelings for the two men you have grown accustomed to is when Chuuya blatantly told you that he wouldn’t mind if you wanted to be with Dazai and that he would understand. You couldn’t be with either of them because you had fallen for them both. 

Chuuya is relieved when you don’t choose. Even if he wanted you happiness he couldn't bare the idea  of losing two people he cared about. He could still argue that he hated Dazai with a fiery passion but he would be fooling no one. 

Dazai is the first one to suggest a poly relationship as the three of you were lounging on the couch. Your head resting on Dazai’s lap as your legs rested on Chuuya’s. With confusion both you and Chuuya stared at him. You’ve heard the term before but you had no idea how it would work. 

When Dazai explained the fundamentals of a poly relationship, you’re relieved. There was nothing wrong with you. You weren’t selfish or insatiable. Dazai’s proposition felt like a blessing and eased your troubled heart. 

Chuuya on the underhand, still felt confused. He felt that trouble and heartbreak was inevitable in such a relationship. Especially because he had convinced himself Dazai was only suggestion such a thing for your sake. It wasn’t hard to see how you felt about the both of them so to him, it seemed like Dazai was just trying to spare your feelings. When your sparkling eyes landed on Chuuya, he felt as if he had to say yes, for your sake at least. 

Dazai eased Chuuya’s mind when he admitted that he cared for the both of you and that he simply didn’t want to choose. He also added that they practically lived together anyway. This was enough to convince Chuuya but due to Dazai being a part of the Armed Detective Agency they had to keep it a secret. Dazai had no problem with this but both you and Chuuya weren’t really known to be good at being secretive. You were just too impulsive. Besides what if they had to attack the agency, what then? 

But then again, none of you wanted to back down, therefore your relationship began. 

General Relationship:

 Dazai is a brat. He wants everything to go according to his plans. The fact that he’s very good at reading the both of you makes it easy for him to get his way. He doesn’t mind playing minor tricks or manipulation tactics to get you and Chuuya to do stuff you don’t originally want to do. It’s exhausting to constantly trying to understand if Dazai was genuine or just wanted you to do something. Chuuya suggested that he should just kick him in the face as a punishment but you preferred to actually communicate. The two of you sit Dazai down and tell him how awful you and Chuuya had been feeling. He’s shocked at first because he had no idea the issue had gotten that big, but he’s quick to apologize. 

You and Chuuya mostly do the cooking. In fact you’re not going to even take credit, Chuuya is the actual one who cooks. You’re usually there more as an assistant. Since Dazai, for the sake of keeping the relationship off grid, comes home late the meals are usually prepared and waiting for him. Also Dazai tried to cook once, the kitchen caught on fire so Chuuya forbade him to cook ever again. 

Dazai tends to tease the both of you a lot. Whenever the mafia and agency clashes in some way, he says the most inappropriate things and it flusters both of you. In fact, you saw the whole agency looking at Dazai with utter confusion and discomfort whenever he opened his mouth near the two of you. Chuuya ended up strangling Dazai when he got home and honestly, you let it go on more than necessary. 

Unfortunately, since the relationship is secret you can’t really go on outside dates. The three of you stay indoors and your dates would usually consists of binging movies or reading books. The three of you decided to go out on full moons only. Chuuya would prepare a basket filled with you and Dazai’s favorites and would go on a moonlit picnic. 

Chuuya is the jealous one. He hates when anyone so much as glances at you or Dazai. Of course, Dazai loves to play it up a bit especially if he KNOWS Chuuya can’t say anything or else he’ll be in trouble. In the end both you and Dazai shower the redhead with extra affection when the three of you are at home or else he’ll be super cranky for a week. 

Dazai and Chuuya are both very open with their affection. They love to shower you with kisses and hugs. Chuuya especially. Since you and Chuuya work together it’s more easy for him to hold you hand or hug you from behind in the day time. Even if he would never admit it Dazai does get jealous because you two get to spend more time together while in the meanwhile he has to jump through hoops to see the two of you. 

Chuuya smokes when he’s stressed and basically WW3 begins in the house. The two of you hate the smell and want him to stop. 

“It’s just one smoke. It’s not like I smoke all the time.” 

“SMOKING KILLS!”

“OH MY GOD IT’S JUST ONE SMOKE, I’M STRESSED!”

“DON’T TRY THAT CRAP ON ME WE WORK AT THE SAME PLACE!” 

“Look you ALWAYS leave an empty carton of milk in the fridge and don’t get me started on Dazai!”

“What do I do?!” 

“IT’S LIKE YOU DON’T EVEN TRY TO AIM WHEN YOU GO TO THE TOILET!”

When the three of you drink, usually wine, you and Dazai’s favorite thing is to get Chuuya drunk. He gets super clingy and affectionate and downright adorable when he’s drunk. Even with Dazai, Chuuya doesn’t hesitate to sit on his lap and give him a sloppy kiss and mumble how much he likes him. Then he starts to cry because he just loves the two of you so much and in the end he ALWAYS falls asleep on either yours or Dazai’s lap. 

The fact that Chuuya and Dazai are absolute troublemakers you worry constantly. Even if you can keep an eye on Chuuya and make him not fight literally everyone that he sees, there’s really no telling what Dazai is up to. It gets to such a point that you end up crying in secret because the constant fear of losing either of them is just too much for you. When the two men learn of this they console you and decide to come up with a system where Dazai notifies them in every three hours by any means necessary. If he can, he also tries to texts more often.   

While you and Chuuya love to cuddle, Dazai isn’t that much of a fan. Despite that he would entertain the two of you by wrapping his long arms and legs around both of you when you go to bed. You would usually be in the middle whilst Chuuya would be the little spoon. On days where Dazai came back especially late, he would find the two of you huddled up together. His heart would melt at the sight and after giving you and Chuuya a peck on the forehead, he would settle in, pulling you both closer to his body.

NSFW:

Chuuya is the most nervous one among the three of you. Considering his former relationship with Dazai it’s hard for him to let himself be so vulnerable in front of the other. Much to Chuuya’s surprise, Dazai is patient with him and doesn’t do anything that might make him uncomfortable, he does love to tease Chuuya though. At this point teasing his loved ones is pretty much Dazai’s drug. As time passes Chuuya starts to trusts Dazai with his body and needs. 

Dazai just screams dominant energy to you and you’re not mistaken. He would make you beg for his cock and tease you until you started to hump the nearest pillow with saliva dribbling down your mouth. He would want a show to say the least. He would tie Chuuya to a chair with his cock out and ready, then he would fuck you right in front of him, teasing Chuuya as he had his way with you. Asking Chuuya if the view was good, if he liked what he was doing to you, if he wanted to join them. He was also a fan of trying new things and toys as long as the two of you were okay with it. 

Chuuya on the other hand was gentle as gentle could be. He would litter your flushed skin with soft kisses and make you feel like a true goddess. He would like to tease you in his own way. Chuuya would have his way with you in a slow and steady pace, sucking, licking and kissing every inch of your body. In the end you would writhe underneath him, begging him to put his cock in you and just fuck you already.  

Seeing the two men for the first time together makes your cunt drip with want immediately. Dazai is quite tender with Chuuya and the way he slowly works him open with his long fingers and then fucks him is a huge turn on for you. The sight of Chuuya being filled with Dazai’s cock to the brim and the sweet noises of his moaning made you lose control. Your body would move on its own as you nestled yourself between Chuuya’s legs and sucked his hard cock. 

When Dazai and Chuuya get together you are pretty much guaranteed to see stars. You love being filled up by both ends and feeling the two men you absolutely adore inside of you. Dazai would fuck you as you sucked on Chuuya’s cock. Both men groaning and moaning as they had their way with you. Being the one who has no self control Chuuya would wrap your hair around his fingers and started to blatantly fuck your mouth. You would the tip of his cock deep in your throat as you swallowed around him. Not liking to be ignored Dazai would snap his hips faster and harder, making you moan around Chuuya’s length. Your inner walls would clench around Dazai’s cock as you came. The two men would follow suit, both of them filling you up with their delicious cum to the brim. 

[imaginedhaven]

Rules of Engagement: Chapter Seventeen

Link to Masterpost

It’s here! It’s finally here! This one fought me more than I thought it would, but I’m pretty happy with it now.

I hope you enjoy!

~*~*~

It had been three days since Aelin had killed Maeve.

For three days, Aedion had sat in meeting after meeting, being forcibly reminded of why he preferred to command through action. Their every move and every piece of evidence had been thoroughly analyzed by the dark-haired demi-Fae that appeared to be the de facto leader of the former blood-sworn, and it was more than apparent that he found it lacking.

He hadn’t even been able to check on Aelin, though Whitethorn’s absence implied that she had yet to awaken. Aedion sighed; he supposed he should get used to thinking of the warrior as Rowan, given his relationship to his cousin. That would take a great deal of adjusting.

Truly, he wished Aelin would just wake up. He understood that the amount of magic she must have used would take a great deal of energy from her, but the sooner she awakened and the sooner she could talk to the group of Fae currently interrogating him, the sooner he could return home to his family.

At that thought, he couldn’t help glancing over at one of the males across the table in particular. He had never expected that he would meet his father, and so he had never given much thought to what he would do should the situation arise.

Years ago, or perhaps even a few months ago, he would’ve been unable to respond to the situation with anything other than anger. A large part of him still was angry that this male had seen fit to just walk away from his mother, and hadn’t even bothered to make contact as she had been dying. But now that he had not only Lysandra to consider, but Evangeline as well, everything was changing for him.

He could still blame him for swearing a blood oath to someone he had to have known had a sadistic streak, but what if Aedion had already sworn himself to Aelin and she had threatened to use his connection to his family? There was very little he wouldn’t do to protect Lysandra; it had been that way for years now, ever since she had come to the palace. It was a little more surprising to realize how quickly Evangeline had carved herself a little spot in his heart right next to Lysandra’s.

Perhaps, he thought, he could understand the male’s position. Even if he couldn’t agree with the end result.

Finally, he glanced over at the irate demi-Fae leading the continued interrogation and belatedly realized he had been asked yet another question. “For the fourth and last time, I only have copies of the letters and the passage of the book Aelin was referencing. We agreed there was an inherent risk in bringing the originals to someone who would be interested in destroying them.” He resisted the urge to feign a yawn; the leader was already angry enough as it was. This line of questioning was so boring, though. It might have been a clever tactic on someone else, but Aedion had been questioned before and had questioned others before. They would have to try harder than this.

“Then where, exactly, are the originals?”

“That secret rests with my cousin. If you want to risk Whitethorn’s wrath and attempt to wake her, you’re more than welcome to do so.” In fact, Aedion would have loved to witness such a confrontation by this point. Anything had to be better than repeatedly answering the same handful of questions.

The demi-Fae male growled, and Aedion growled right back. He had played nicely for his cousin’s sake thus far, but he was quickly losing patience with all of this. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Rowan so carefully guarding Aelin until she woke up, he might have simply carried her out himself and booked the next ship across the sea, consequences be damned.

The other male—Gavriel—his father—finally glanced up from the copies he had presented to them. “He’s not likely to give different answers at this point, Lorcan. Perhaps we should focus on ensuring a smooth transition of power? Maeve had no heir, and evidently no legitimate claim to our throne, and we need to determine what that means for us.”

The leader grimaced. “Mab’s line goes through the Ashryver family. The direct female descendant is his fire-breathing bitch princess. Mora’s… Whitethorn will know which of his cousins has the most direct claim.”

“It’ll go to Mora’s line, then,” Aedion commented. “Aelin won’t have any interest in ruling a land she’s never visited before.”

“Won’t she?” The leader was suddenly furious, dark eyes narrowed and darker power surrounding him. “Perhaps that’s why she came, after all.”

“It would mean war if she did,” another of the warriors pointed out calmly. This one, to the extent of Aedion’s knowledge, had been absent during the confrontation itself, and had yet to speak. “And it doesn’t make sense for her to begin with Doranelle, were she to become a conqueror. The Wastes would be an easier target, or perhaps Adarlan.”

The demi-Fae whirled around to glare at the speaker, then quietly grumbled to himself. Aedion took advantage of their distraction to quietly slip away.

It didn’t take someone with Aedion’s heightened senses to recognize that another had followed him out of the room, and it didn’t take a particularly wise man to guess who it had been. For a moment he contemplated not responding at all, walking away without acknowledging his presence, but finally he sighed and turned to face his father. “She died, you know,” he said, surprising even himself. “She didn’t have to. The Fae could have healed her, but she wouldn’t go.”

Gods, he wished he wasn’t having this conversation alone. Aelin might know what to say, and Lysandra…

Best not to think about her, not right now.

His father had frozen still, and vaguely he wondered if he could have felled the male simply by tapping his shoulder. He didn’t reply verbally, but that was all right. Aedion didn’t need an answer from him. “I realize now she was protecting me. From you. From your queen. From all of it.”

The golden male winced. “Aedion—”

Perhaps he had expected to feel anger or rage at the sound of his name on his father’s lips, now after all these years. Perhaps grief would have been a more reasonable expectation, sorrow for all the years missed. Perhaps even joy, for having found the male his mother had never once spoken of.

Instead of any of those, Aedion felt empty. His chest was hollow, and his voice devoid of all emotion when he replied, “I can’t do this right now.”

He left his father standing in the hallway, staring after him as he retreated to the rooms he’d borrowed.

~*~*~

Rowan sighed and glanced once more at the bed where Aelin laid, wishing he would see that she had awakened but knowing she would still be sleeping. She had drained so much of her power, and so much of it had been for his sake that he still felt a twinge in his chest if he dwelled on the thought for too long.

The instant Maeve had exposed herself, Aelin had surrounded him with a ring of fire to keep the shadows at bay, dropping the protective shield only when she needed his power to finish what she had set out to accomplish. It was something he would have done for her, if his power had been of a sufficient threat to the dark queen, but a large part of him was embarrassed that he had been surprised enough to require the assistance.

He knew Aelin would never blame him, though, not after all of the revelations she had made that day.

Perhaps the others would believe it if he told them he had been so surprised by the reveal of Maeve as a Valg queen and not Fae at all. She had long been cold and cruel, but she had done such an excellent job of hiding the truth that he knew he would never have guessed. Aelin had, though, and when she woke up he would have to ask her what had given her cause to suspect.

It was likely to be equally believable that he had been stunned into silence and stillness by the gift of his own freedom. He had hoped, certainly, that she would find a way for them to see each other again. The thought of being parted from his carranam forever had been one that he had found unable to bear, and so he had avoided thinking about their inevitable split as much as possible. Perhaps, though, that should have given him cause to guess the revelation that had shocked him beyond all others, the single word that had caused his mind to fall completely silent for the first time in decades.

Mate.

Even as he had heard the word fall from her lips, though, he had known the truth of it. If he was completely honest with himself, part of him had suspected for quite some time, though he had always found yet another excuse, yet another reason to go on believing that he was wrong. Even now it was a struggle to believe that this could all be his.

Had Lyria ever been his true mate? Could Fae have more than one mate through the course of their lives? There was so much he didn’t know. He wasn’t certain if anyone in Doranelle would be able to tell him now. He supposed it didn’t matter now. Regardless of whether she had truly been his mate or whether he had been so terribly, terribly wrong, she was a part of his past that he couldn’t be rid of even if he wished to be. It was lucky, he supposed, that Aelin seemed to understand this, just as he understood the history that had led her to him.

As he had done so many times previously during these three long days, he strode over to the bed where Aelin lay pale and still, one hand reaching out to gently stroke her hair away from her face. This time was different, though, in that she made the softest noise in her sleep and her face turned to rest against his palm.

Rowan felt something within himself crack with the almost-painful joy that filled him with such a simple gesture, and soon he was sitting on the bed beside her. In response, she shifted again, and soon he found himself seated against the head of the bed with her face pressed against his hip and her arm thrown across his thighs. Another happy little sound fell from her lips, and a slight flush returned to her cheeks, and Rowan smiled down at her sleeping form. The movements and the sounds and the color returning to her were all signs that her magic had restored enough for her body to allow itself into a more natural sleep, and when taken together they indicated that she would awaken soon.

As delighted as he was that soon she would be awake, he also felt a small thrill of trepidation. After all, the last conversation they’d had before she left for Doranelle had gone so terribly wrong, all because he’d panicked. The brief conversation they’d had on the way here indicated that he had a lot to make up for. He intended to do so, but he wasn’t sure of the best way to start.

Her hand shifted higher up on his thigh, and he couldn’t quite suppress the resulting shiver. As much pleasure as even such a simple touch brought to him, though, he knew that if he allowed it to continue he would have little interest in actually talking to Aelin once she woke up. He carefully shifted her hand back down to its previous position, lingering for a moment to caress her hair once more before relaxing back against the head of the bed.

She didn’t seem to notice, or react to the movement beyond a tiny little sigh, and he allowed his mind to once more wander to what on earth he could say to her to counteract the way he had once frozen at her touch and then fled. Perhaps the best way to prove his intentions would be beyond what he could express with words, and only time would be able to show that he intended to stay by her side forever.

Aelin’s hand wandered upward again, and he gently caught it in his own, glancing down at her once more and immediately getting lost in turquoise eyes ringed with gold and dancing with wicked humor.

~*~*~

The first thing Aelin had noticed as she began to wake up was the comforting scent of snow-covered pines. For a brief moment, she had wondered if perhaps they had already returned to Terrasen, but as she had opened her eyes to an unfamiliar bed she’d finally recalled what had happened.

Gods, it was embarrassing to realize she had fallen asleep right at the most inopportune moment, though she supposed it was fortunate that it had been with Rowan. Of all people, he would understand the toll that magic could take.

It appeared that he had stayed with her throughout however long she had slept, for she was wrapped around one of his legs with her head pillowed against his hip. She shifted slightly, blushing faintly as the movement caused her hand to brush the inside of his thigh and quickly feigning continued sleep as he moved her hand to a more appropriate placement. It was only a few moments later, though, that she decided she would not be put off so easily. Not when everything had finally come out into the open, not now that they knew they were mates and she knew that he wanted her.

She had waited quite long enough for this.

The second brush of fingers across his leg was far more deliberate, and this time when he took her hand and glanced down at her she didn’t look away, holding his gaze and watching his expression change from bemusement to shock to something so warm she couldn’t help but melt at the sight. Rather than say something truly embarrassing, however, she grinned up at him. “Why, Prince Rowan, I must say this wasn’t quite what I had in mind when you said you were taking me to bed.”

“As much as I would hate to disappoint you, I was hardly going to bed an invalid,” he retorted, though relief was shining clearly in those beautiful green eyes. The rough amusement of his voice was belied by the gentle touch of his fingers in her hair, carefully tucking a stray lock behind her ear.

Aelin sat up with a groan. “How long did I sleep?”

“Three days.” He pulled her into himself, her back to his chest and her hips nested between his thighs, and she turned her head to smile up at him. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his fingertips brushing along her jawline.

“I’m feeling like there’s a promise my mate has yet to follow through with,” she teased, though the suddenly-serious expression on his face caused her own easy smile to falter. “Rowan…”

“How long have you known?”

She supposed that was the easiest question he could’ve started with, though she still drew in a deep breath before replying. “From the moment I fell into your arms after escaping Arobynn Hamel’s home and realized it felt like I was home,” she replied. “I was… I wasn’t certain at first, given that you’ve already been mated, but then the night before I left…”

He grimaced then, and it was her turn to reach up and touch his face. “I panicked, then,” he admitted. “I regretted it almost immediately. And then when I returned—to apologize, or to do something at least to try and make it right, and found you missing, it was like a piece of myself had gone with you.”

“I couldn’t tell you what I was doing,” Aelin said by way of apology. “You would’ve been forced to stop me, by the oath that once bound you.”

“I understand.” His fingers slid under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “But next time you leave in the middle of the night, your only two options are telling me where you’re going or taking me with you. Am I clear?”

“So demanding,” she purred. “Luckily for you, I have no intention of ever being parted from you for any lengthy period of time again if I can help it.”

She leaned in then, determined to finally, finally kiss him, but he stopped her with a gentle hand pressing against her shoulder. “Aelin, I…”

“I know,” she said. “We can talk about it as much as you want later. But right now, I don’t know when we’ll next have a moment like this again, and—”

His lips were on hers then, and rather than attempt to continue the conversation she slid her hand to the back of his head.

She had thought she knew what it was to be kissed. She had done exactly that with Sam on countless moonlit nights, and then once again with Dorian. It had always been pleasant enough before, but Aelin was quickly coming to realize that kissing Rowan could hardly be described by such an inadequate word as pleasant. No, kissing Rowan was everything—his ice colliding with her fire, the sensation both taking her breath away and fanning a flame that resided deep within her core. It was better than she could’ve dreamed—and she had dreamed of this, she could admit it to herself now, had spent long nights twisted in her sheets and waking up gasping at imagined sensations.

He pulled back, just long enough to take a breath, and she couldn’t quite help the noise that escaped her then. Nor could she help the urge to crush her lips to his once more, an urge she succumbed to happily. She tangled her fingers into silver hair, holding him close to her, though he seemed to share her desire to remain close if the arm wrapped around her waist was any indication.

A muscle in her side twinged, and he pulled free of her once more as she winced. Before he could say a word, though, she turned in his embrace, straddling his thighs and resting one hand on each side of his face. “I’m fine, Rowan,” she reassured him. “Better than fine, even, unless you get it into your head to do something as stupid as stop—”

His lips brushed her jaw then, and she couldn’t contain the gasp that left her. She allowed her head to fall to the side as his hands skimmed up her sides, slipping under the fabric of what she belatedly realized was his shirt. “If that is what my queen commands, then I can only obey,” he smirked.

She shivered, and spent a dizzying moment wondering what she would need to do to ensure that he never stopped calling her my queen. “In that case, your queen commands that we not leave this room until we have no other option, or until I say otherwise,” she grinned.

He laughed, the sound all dark tones that resonated deep within her and made her toes curl. “I’ve spent three days wondering what words I needed to say for you to allow me to remain at your side,” he admitted. “But if you would rather I do my persuading with teeth and tongue…”

He nipped at her neck then, the sensation immediately recalling a day in the sparring ring what felt like forever ago, and Aelin moaned. “I think that sounds like a brilliant idea.”

~*~*~

Rowan wasn’t entirely convinced that this wasn’t some sort of dream, even as Aelin leaned in to kiss him again. He had spent so long carefully convincing himself that this very thing wasn’t within the realm of possibility that he almost didn’t know what to do now that it decidedly was.

He wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass him by, however. Gods knew he had squandered enough chances by now.

With that in mind, he carefully flipped them so that Aelin was sprawled on the mattress, golden hair spilling across his pillow in a way he’d been longing to see for longer than he cared to admit. She glanced up at him, lips pursed in a blend of confusion and irritation, but before she could say a word he was kneeling over her and kissing that confused frown away.

Her skin tasted just as he remembered from that one time he had bitten her, all floral jasmine and simmering embers, and it was enough to drive him mad with longing. His hands once more slipped under the shirt that was covering her—his shirt, into which he’d changed her so as to prevent her from sleeping in riding leathers—and she rose to meet his touch, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

The shirt had to go, and it was only a moment’s work to tear it open, leaving her fully exposed to his gaze. He had seen every inch of her before, of course, stolen glances while working to heal her as well as that morning she had gone to look at her own scars. None of those moments compared to this, with her warm and wanting beneath him. The flush of her cheeks spread across her chest as well, accenting the curve of her firm breasts tipped with rose-colored peaks. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, and as his fingertips swept up the plane of her toned stomach and along her ribs she let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a whisper of his name.

He had to taste her again then, and from there he allowed himself to kiss along the curve of her neck and her shoulder before dipping lower. A flick of his tongue over her nipple granted him a startled cry and a breathy please, and he obediently took the hardened nub of flesh into his mouth as his hand stroked back down her side to caress her thigh.

At the barest suggestion from his fingertips she spread her legs for him, and he slid his hand between them, tracing circles on her inner thigh until she was begging him for more with her words as well as her movements, the arch of her hips all the more appealing for its artlessness. Slowly, he allowed his fingers to wander ever closer to the slick skin awaiting him at the juncture of her thighs, not quite allowing himself to touch just yet. Her fingers twisted into his hair in response, tugging sharply enough to make him hiss and glance up at her.

She pulled him towards her once again, and he followed where she led eagerly, kissing her once again. As his tongue brushed against hers, though, he realized that perhaps there was one more thing he needed to say to her before this could carry on any further. “I love you,” he whispered into the skin of her neck, smiling as she shivered in response.

“You love me?” she asked, voice husky from their current activities.

He pulled back, just enough to look into her eyes as he replied. “To whatever end.”

She surged up to meet him then, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she kissed him again and again. “I love you,” she breathed between kisses, “and you are mine.”

It was his turn, then, to shiver at her blatant claim of him. “I am yours,” he agreed, “just as much as you are mine.”

And then he was kissing his way down her body, past her breasts and along her stomach. He had just reached her navel when she seemed to realize his plan with a gasp, her fingers returning to their position in his hair as he finally slid his hands up her thighs to part them further and lowered his head between them.

She tasted just as perfect here as she did everywhere else; perhaps even more so. Even more rewarding than her taste, though, was the sharp cry of his name accompanied by a tug on his hair as he flicked his tongue against her. He laughed against her skin as her hips rose to meet him, allowing his hands to slip under the curve of her hips to pull her ever closer.

Before long, she was alternately praising him and cursing him as he continued to tease the tiny nub of flesh tucked between her thighs, hips almost thrashing in his firm grip. “Please,” she begged, and Rowan glanced up at her to find her chest heaving and her cheeks red from pleasure and exertion. “Rowan, please, I need—”

Her head tossed back with another cry then as he slowly pressed a finger into her, curling it slightly to stroke against her from the inside. “More,” she begged as he licked over her once again, and he obediently added a second finger beside the first. Her hips rolled against his hand and his tongue in an undulating motion, her grip on his hair tightening further and her spare hand sliding up towards her breasts, then faltering and falling to fist in the sheets. Her moans and pleas rose in pitch and in volume, and soon her core was tightening around his fingers and her voice broke on a shout of his name.

He pressed one more kiss against her flesh before she was pulling him up again, and he carefully removed his fingers from her before allowing her to guide him back in for yet another kiss to her lips. Her hands slid down his back, pausing when she reached the trousers he still wore. “These have to go,” she demanded, and he grinned in reply.

“As my queen commands,” he said as his own hand fell to the first of the buttons that fastened the trousers around him.

~*~*~

Aelin was positive that she had died and gone to the Afterworld. It couldn’t be possible to love someone this much, to feel this much pleasure at their touch. She was already falling apart, already burning inside, and they had barely begun.

He definitely knew what he was doing—she had suspected as much, given that she was far from his first, but to believe that and to experience it were different things altogether. She knew that she was far from his level of experience, and though she knew he wouldn’t judge her for it she knew she wanted to at least try to make him feel as good as he was making her feel.

It was this thought that emboldened her enough to wrap her hand around the length of him once he had bared himself for her, stroking once and marveling at the sensation of such soft skin over something so firm. He hissed in response, pressing forward into her grip, and she couldn’t keep a smile from her face. “That feels good?”

He nodded, elongated canines grazing her skin as he nuzzled his face against her neck. Before she could do anything else, though, his fingers encircled her wrist, halting the motion of her hand. “You don’t have to,” he began.

Aelin responded by arching one of her eyebrows. “And if I want to?”

“You wouldn’t rather save this part of yourself, in the event you need to make a more politically expedient union?”

Irritation flared in her then, and she instinctively leaned in and nipped at his neck. “I would rather make my own decisions, and I’ve decided I want to share this with my mate. Though if he keeps being a bird-brained idiot, I might change my mind.”

He laughed then, and she was about to unleash an irritated tirade on him when he simply said, “I suppose that’s fair.”

“I should certainly hope so,” she retorted, cutting off any reply he could’ve made by moving her hand along his length once more and reveling in the resulting gasp.

The minor argument had done nothing to diminish the arousal she felt, and judging by the weight of him in her palm and the lust shimmering in his eyes he felt the same way. She watched as he lowered his head to see the movement of her hand on him, and then suddenly he pulled her close once more in a kiss that stole what was left of her breath away.

His fingers brushed between her thighs once more and she moaned into his mouth, hooking one of her legs around one of his to tug him ever closer. “Please, Rowan,” she pleaded, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears. “Please, I—”

Words failed her then, but he seemed to know precisely what it was she was asking of him regardless. In a smooth motion he braced himself above her with a hand beside her head. The other slid down her side and then moved away to help him guide himself into her.

Gods, and she had thought being filled with his fingers was perfection. This went so far beyond that sensation that she didn’t have the words to describe it even if she had found herself miraculously able to speak. Instead, she whimpered something that sounded vaguely like his name and clutched at his shoulders, feeling the muscles of his upper back ripple as he rolled his hips slowly against hers.

When he was fully inside of her his lips found hers again, and she kissed him back, desperately trying to cling to some semblance of reality. Then he began to move and she was lost.

Her head tossed back, baring her throat to him, and her fingertips dug in at his shoulders at the delightful friction of his thrusts. With a groan, he traced the curve of her neck with his lips and then his teeth, and Aelin slid one of her hands into his hair to keep him there, dragging the nails of her other hand down his back. He growled in response and his hips slammed into her, but his teeth at her neck remained so surprisingly gentle, and the dichotomy of it only fueled the fire burning within her.

She opened her eyes—when had she closed them?—and as she tugged on his hair so she could look into his eyes the fire within her rose up, as hot as the burnout but infinitely sweeter. Keeping her gaze locked on his, she deliberately arched her neck, giving him silent permission to do what he was so clearly longing to.

His teeth sank into the skin of her neck and release crashed over her like a wave, leaving her trembling in his grasp and shouting his name for all the world to hear. His found him soon after, and then it was her turn to hold him as he groaned into her neck and spilled inside of her.

She let out a soft whine as he eased his teeth from her skin and began planting soft kisses over her face and neck. “Gods,” she managed. “I never thought… I couldn’t have imagined…”

“I couldn’t have either,” he admitted, pine-green eyes softer and warmer than she had ever seen them.

A swell of affection rose in her at the sight, and she couldn’t keep it from spilling out into words. “I love you.”

He smiled, truly smiled, and it was like watching the sun rise. “I never thought I would have the privilege of hearing those words from your lips.”

She laughed softly. “It is a privilege, isn’t it?”

He nipped at her neck again, but she only laughed harder. “What would you say,” she asked, “if I told you that my first demand of you as both my mate and my blood-sworn was that we do this as often as we can manage it?”

He chuckled and rolled his hips again, and she gasped with the realization that he had hardly even softened. “I would say we would find it difficult to get any work done,” he replied, and soon after that they were both lost in each other once more and there were no more words.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou

[pachitoherrera]

Pacho // safe – pt.2

a/n: alright my lovely angels, here is part 2! you can find part one here although it is not necessary to read it beforehand, as this part can be seen seperately! I hope you guys like it, and let me know what you think !🌸

You knew he was trouble from the moment you laid eyes on the self-confident smile and the gun that flashed under his jacket as he walked in. In fact, you should have seen it coming even before that, when the sound of motorcycles drowned out the music inside the bar and heads were turned to find the source of the disturbance, conversations ceasing.

You knew he was trouble before the whole country knew. You could tell by the expensive watch on his wrist, the golden chain hanging from his neck and by the way his eyes were watching you over his glass, dark and cold, hiding depths that you would slowly get to discover in the following years. 

You knew he was trouble the closer you got to him, slowly becoming one of his confidants, inevitably being dragged into the glorious and dangerous life of drug business. But never had you realized the reality of the danger until the wedding night of Gilberto Rodriguez’s daughter. It wasn’t the first time you had seen death, yet it was the first time you had felt true terror, fear for your life, fear for his life. 

The shuffling of footsteps outside your room made you snap out of your nostalgia trip, and soon a knocking was heard on your door. “Come in.” The man – one of three assigned by Pacho to guard you, endearingly labelled as Babysitters by you – appeared at the opening, his gun in its holster. “Navegante is here to see you.” “Oh?” You immediately got up, following the man to the entrance room of your small house. Navegante was no stranger to you, a peculiar man, although you always assumed he was hiding much more behind his silence. And so you knew that he was no man for small, insignificant message deliveries. 

“Don Pacho sent me to get you. Please pack your bag.” You scoffed, shaking your head. The events of the wedding hadn’t changed your mind about leaving the country, Pacho knew that. “Where to?”, you asked as gently as possible, trying to cover your annoyance. 

“A safe place.” 

“Thanks to these gentlemen” – you gestured towards your personal guards “ – my place is quite safe too. So I would prefer to stay here.” Navegante’s eyes hushed over the other men before looking back at you, nodding sympathetically. “I can’t allow that. Please understand that my orders are to not leave this place without you, no matter how. But truth is, I would prefer without force.” 

With a small suitcase containing your most important travel baggage and you in the backseat, Navegante drove up the driveway to the luxury villa. You faintly remembered this place, away from the city, surrounded by wild fields, a small paradise in the middle of nowhere. 

Pacho was already waiting, hands in his pockets, and by the cocky smile you could tell he was expecting your mood. “What‘s that all about?“, you asked slightly irritated, even before having fully stepped out of the car. He greeted you with a kiss on each cheek, his hands on your shoulders to hold you in place, knowing very well that else you would resist in your current state. “Change of plans. It’s safer for you to stay here.“ You stopped moving, eyes seeking his, looking for a hint to give away any worries. “What happened? Did you do something again?“ He tilted his head, fake indignation written on his face. „It hurts me that you think it is something I did.“ “Because most of the time it’s true. You attract trouble like a magnet, Pacho Herrera”, you said, watching Navegante carrying your suitcase inside. “So, where is my champagne reception? Is that how you treat your guests?” He laughed – a sound that had become rare lately, but made your heart smile – and leaned closer to you, lowering his voice. “Only the special ones.” His left hand gestured towards the entrance while his right hand found its place on your back, softly pushing your forward. “Why did you send Navegante?”, you asked while allowing him to lead you inside, admiring the paintings on the walls. “I figured he would be better at persuading you than I am.” “How right you were.” 

The place resembled a small holiday resort, big pool outside, even a small inside pool, a bar, own cooks, only the heavily-armed guards disturbing the picture of tranquillity. To your surprise, you spent a great amount of time with Pacho. Your conversations came naturally, reaching from complex political and business discussions to – after one or two cocktails too many – playful flirtations. When he was away, you tried to befriend the guards, engage them in small-talk or deeper conversations. You even managed to get Navegante to talk, and came to the conclusion that there was, in fact, a lot more behind his silence, true to the saying still waters run deep.

On the eighth day, you woke up to find yourself alone in the house, save the usual amount of guards. Pacho was gone, and to your surprise, it saddened you. Even though this place was a small paradise, the only reason that made your stay enjoyable was the time spent with him.

To make time run faster, and occupy your mind before worrying thoughts of Pacho’s whereabouts would start driving you crazy – after all, you cared about his safety as much as he did about yours – you decided to bring your baking skills to use, as long as the kitchen staff was absent. 

Humming to yourself, absorbed in your work, you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. If you had turned around, you would have seen Pacho leaning in the doorway, his eyes soft and a smile on his lips that was so different from the smiles he usually wore. And maybe you even would have noticed the hint of confusion, as he tried to come to terms with this unusual feeling caused by your presence, the feeling that was the reason he felt as if every ounce of breath was taken from his lungs when you smiled at him, the feeling that ached his heart, but at the same time drove out the anger to replace it with warmth.

But you didn’t turn around, didn’t see the way he looked at you like a colourblind man, seeing a blooming garden of flowers for the first time. And when you finally did turn around, he was gone.

On the tenth day, you grew weary of your shortened wardrobe and sneaked into Pacho’s closet, a neatly organized room, filled with the most extravagant shirts. You let your hand slide over the different colours and fabrics until you pulled one out. The silk felt smooth under your grip, and you recognized the pattern immediately. He wore it on the day you first met, years ago in that small bar, a day that would forever change the course of your life. Unsurprisingly, the shirt was too large, and so you decided to leave it unbuttoned, only tying the ends together to cover what needed to be covered.

Pacho was on the phone in his office, by the tone of his voice you figured he was speaking to Gilberto, so you casually waved at him while walking past the room. He raised his hand, and just before you went out of view again, you saw his expression change. With quick steps you rushed to the living room, before he could stop you, picking an apple from the fruit basket. 

You barely had time to take the first bite before the soudn of steps could be heard behind you. “Why are you wearing my shirt?” You shrugged while swallowing.  “I ran out of clothes to wear. Besides – ” with a smile, you twirled around. “It looks much better on me.” The corners of his mouth twitched, but his expression remained the same, and for a short moment you wondered whether you had hurt him. And then you remembered who you were talking to, and that it took more than that. “I will send someone to get your things”, he finally said, earning an eye-roll from you. “Just let me go home already.” “No.” He leaned closer, face inches away from yours. “Just be patient, alright.” While you were trying to figure out why this physical proximity drove heat to your cheeks, he grabbed the apple out of your hand and took a bite while walking back to his office, leaving you frowning at him.

On the twelfth day, over a strawberry daiquiri, you admitted that you didn’t know how to dance properly. Through a detailed argumentation about the great importance of dance in Colombian culture, especially in the city of Cali, Pacho had persuaded you to “exclusive dance lessons – a once in a lifetime chance”, as he called it. The carefreeness evoked by alcohol prevailed against embarrassment,  and so you allowed him to take your hand and lead you to the dimly lit lounge.

You wouldn’t be able to recall what you talked about that evening, when his hands felt so naturally around your body, the familiarity between you bordering on intimacy. All you’d remember would be the way his body felt against yours when you touched, the way his eyes seemed to stare into your soul, his voice – husky but soft, and ultimately, the moment you realized that maybe it had always been more than just friendship.

Two weeks after you first arrived in this place, the news channels talked about the end of Pablo Escobar. Medellin went back to normal, life and laughter rising once again in the streets, the fear that had previously ruled the city was slowly disappearing, although the terror that was caused by one single man would never be forgotten. He wasn’t caught yet, but left without anyone to support him. And even though you grew used to this place, you came to the conclusion that spending any more time with Pacho would be challenging. Your latest realization only scared you, and as a natural human reaction to uncomfortable truths, you decided to avoid it. 

It was one of the hot days, where you spend the late morning lying by the pool and reading one of the many books you found in Pacho’s office. El viejo y el mar – the old man and the sea. “A classic.” You looked up to see Pacho standing in the entrance to the house, hands casually in his pockets. “Didn’t know you were that literate”, you said nonchalantly, putting the book aside. “All the good things in life.” He walked over to the sunbed next to you, sitting down. “My men find it quite distracting when you walk around half-naked, trying to engage them in conversations.” A short laugh escaped your lips, surprise mixed with confusion, the serious expression on his face indicating discontent. “Maybe you have the wrong men for this job then.” This time he laughed, face soothing, although the laugh didn’t reach his eyes. “Or listen, Pacho, maybe it is just time for me to go back home. Pablo Escobar is done”, you carefully started while watching him, noticing the subtle tensioning of his jaw. “He is still out there. As long as he is alive, he will be a threat. I don’t want to keep you here against your will, but it is for –” “Just for my safety, yes I gathered that”, you cut him short. “But is it really? For me? Or are you doing it for yourself, to have a clear conscience?” His eyes widened, only for a brief moment, but you had noticed. Body frozen, he then lowered his gaze, cigarette in his hand left to burn out. You waited, expecting him to brush you off, telling you to not be ridiculous in his usual sophisticated tone. But after a long pause, he just looked up, no words needed to express the guilt in his eyes. You stood up, taking the cigarette out of his hand in the process. Leaving Pacho speechless was not an easy achievement, and under these circumstances, you wouldn’t want to call it an achievement even. “I am tired of being treated like a prisoner, Pacho.” With a long drag, you finished the cigarette and leaned forward to put it out in the ashtray before walking back inside.

“Wait.” You stopped, turning around to face Pacho who was coming up to you, relieved that he didn’t let you walk away. “Do you really feel like that? Like a prisoner?” His voice was softer than usual, containing an insecurity that was new to you. It was strange, the way he managed to make you feel bad like no other, almost like out of the two of you, you were the cold, ruthless one. “I – no, I’m sorry. It’s nice here, but it’s not home”, you said, trying to take the weight out of your earlier statement. “We can make it your home.” You opened your mouth, but couldn’t think of an answer, astonishment sitting deep in your bones. “You are right”, he continued. “I am being egoistic, because I like this place better when you are here, and even the thought of something happening to you out there sickens me.” More than once had you tried to avoid the idea of the two of you being more than friends, afraid that it would be a ridiculous wish, which, in the end, would cause you more pain than a bullet in your body. And so, because it had been such an absurd notion, you had never thought of the way you would react in case it actually happened. You slowly forced yourself to awake from your trance-like state, knowing that Pacho rarely talked about his feelings, and your silence would only be unsettling him. And that’s the last thing you desired, because actually, you wanted him to know that he was the source of your happiness, that no safe houses, no amount of guards would make you feel as safe as being by his side. But you were afraid of blurting it all out, years of friendship and trust at risk. So instead, you reached for his hand, bringing it to your lips. “As long as you walk this earth, I refuse something happening to me”, you whispered against his skin, “after all, I need to look after you and all the trouble you cause.” He smiled, visibly relieved, and pulled you closer to place a kiss on your head. Moments of silence passed before you spoke again. “If I am to stay here longer now, we have to make a few changes to this place.” “Anything you want.”

[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.

[itsclydebitches]

A preview for the Roman Neo book came out. Did you read it? I didn't but I want to hear your thoughts on it.

I just read it now!

The preview gave us the first chapter and the initial interaction of the second, flipflopping between Neo and Roman's stories, much like BTD. I think Neo's chapter has more to discuss in it, so I'll focus mostly on that.

We're not actually seeing things through her perspective (theoretically — more on that below), but rather Trivia's, a girl turning eight the next day. The chapter covers her playing a game of silent tag with Neo after her mom and dad have gone to bed, accidentally breaking a vase and getting in trouble for it. Some of it is cute — I like the image of a young Neo playing games, including the floor is lava, and that she's presented as Trivia's "imaginary friend" — but the rest is a pretty standard RWBY setup. Honestly, Trivia's life feels like a carbon copy of the Schnee's. Her family is clearly quite rich, what with the Mistral oriental rug they're jumping onto, the expensive vase she breaks, a mound of birthday presents waiting, etc. Her father is some kind of politician, a member of the Vale City Council, and he tries to justify his explosive anger with how hard his work is, things he puts up with for his family. Trivia sees his "barely controlled anger" that later turns to "rage." He holds her upside down after pulling her from beneath the couch (her first instinct is to hide) and shakes her a bit before dropping her. Then he vaguely orders one of the women in the room to clean the mess up before going back to bed. Trivia's mother, meanwhile, is the more nurturing figure, but who inevitably gives in to her husband's temper. Her pushes for leniency fall on deaf ears and later, when Trivia still won't speak when they're alone, she flinches, gets mad, and leaves Trivia alone, repeating her husband's order to clean up this mess. She's kinder, but isn't able to control her husband's cruelty and, inevitably, feeds into it.

Sound like any other family dynamics we've seen?

The father — Jimmy — gets a side of ableism with his generally implied abuse. Interestingly, Trivia is mute with her father telling her to "speak up for yourself" (implying she physically can speak, but struggles emotionally to do so) and her mom, as said, eventually grows frustrated too and leaves when Trivia won't talk to her. I will say that I like that the text includes a communication board, even if both parents clearly don't like Trivia using it, and her muteness certainly introduces an unexpected dynamic. It's unlikely that we have two mute characters who just happen to have become friends (with one sneaking into the house and managing to hide from the parents behind a pile of presents for this whole conversation), so my assumption is that Trivia is Neo. Neo, as a young girl, is born Trivia to rich parents (the family portrait on the book's cover) and imagines herself up a playmate named "Neopolitan." Neo is just like Trivia — they're both mute, the text describes them mirroring each other while playing, they're both wearing fancy dresses, Trivia instinctively knows what Neo is "saying" — but she's better, more acrobatic, more confident, more rebellious... everything a sheltered, probably abused girl would want to be. In time, Trivia gains that skill and confidence (floor is lava makes good acrobatic practice!) and rebrands herself as her own imaginary friend. Interestingly, her mother (with brown eyes) flinches when Trivia makes eye contact with her, which one might do if your kid has mismatched eyes and you dislike that for some reason, such as it not being "normal," as they discuss in regards to her muteness. Brown hair and eye, a pink eye... and the last name Vanille. Ta da, with brown, pink, and white — chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla —you get the name Neopolitan, which Trivia eventually takes on as her real name from then on. (The sweets based name might also be a subconscious homage to her kinder parent — the mom's name is Carmel). We see at the end of the chapter that Trivia is giving in to "Neopolitan's" rebellious nature, grounding the smashed vase into dust, smearing blood on the couch, and leaving the room without cleaning anything up as she was told. All of this makes far more sense if we don't read the girls as two people, but one, with Trivia slowing coming into the personality she's imagined for herself.

I like the setup so far. Yes, it has its potentials for pitfalls in how Neo's mutism and "imaginary friend" is handled, but so far the only thing I dislike is the Schnee 2.0 dynamic, which just feels redundant. I got excited for a moment when the communication board came out, thinking that these might be good parents (good adults!) helping their kid communicate however she's most comfortable... but no. Sigh.

Roman, meanwhile, is a lot more straightforward and... it's fine? Not as engaging as the questions that Neo's chapter raises, but solid. We learn that he's 18 (presumably making him a decade older than Neo then) and that he moved to Mistral about a year ago. He's living on the streets and trying not to freeze or starve to death, camping outside a nightclub to find drunk victims to rob. The part of his chapter we get shows him stealing a man's wallet, pretending to give it back, and then threatening him so he gives up his coat and gloves instead (since the guy blew all his money at the club — the main attraction apparently uses her semblance to lure people in). We end with Roman breaking the man's knee anyway, despite his cooperation. It's precisely the sort of ruthless, street-thug, but obsessed with looking good while he does it (the coat is apparently very fine) that we would expect of Roman.

Detail I really liked? Roman apparently spent a long time practicing twirling his cane in front of a mirror — lol. Detail I didn't like? The night club performer whose semblance was “one of those special abilities some people had that often seemed like magic." How does one semblance seem like magic compared to others that apparently don't? They're all insane abilities?? This franchise still has no good distinction between the two.

Myers also flipflops between strong and weak writing a lot. We've got the strong "[The wealthy] held their noses so high, they didn’t notice what was right under them” when Roman robs the guy of his wallet, followed by the terrible "Have you ever wondered what it feels like to be a punching bag?" when he's trying to threaten him. It's a mixed bag. But I will say that these excerpts feel far, far stronger than what I was reading in BTD. Honestly, reading that I kept wondering why so many in the fandom loved his work, but if what I've read of Roman Holiday is consistent across the book and if that's closer to the quality of ATF, I can much better understand the interest. BTD may have been the fluke among three novels, rather than the rule. Which is great!

[beyondconfessor]

Principle Decisions [1/24]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lilith/Zelda Spellman

Summary: Zelda couldn’t look away from the words as she touched over the embossed typography.

Lilith

Dominatrix

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief. 

She fingered the card, drawing her nail over its edges. It had an entirely over the top design, with a bright red background and black lettering. Despite how over-the-top she felt the graphic design was, Zelda couldn’t look away from the words as she touched over the embossed typography.

Lilith

Dominatrix

As if it had burned her, she dropped the card on her desk. On its back, the card presented the phone number and email address of the woman. Terribly gauche: madamsatan@hellfire.com.

The business card––if you could even call it that––had been slipped out of the jacket of a new book she’d purchased, and since her discovery of it, Zelda’s eyes had been drawn to it, a strange temptation pulling at her.

She’d only bought the book as a way to offer an olive branch to Hilda. If her sister weren’t so terribly awkward around any mention of sex, she would have wondered if she had been the one to slip the card into the book. No, likely the so-called dominatrix had wandered through the shop and decided that the newest bestseller would be an excellent place to advertise her business.

The sheer gall of the woman.

It had been some time since she’d engaged in any sexual relationship. Since Edward’s passing, Zelda’s world had been entirely taken up with raising Sabrina. Hilda had helped, of course, given that she was the original caretaker of Ambrose––but the bulk of Sabrina’s raising rested on her shoulders. Between that and balancing her work at the Academy, Zelda had little time to date.

And in the few times, she did date she would inevitably end up exhausted by the need to care for someone’s emotional needs on top of her family and usually wound up requesting that they never see each other again.

At least if she engaged with a sex worker, she wouldn’t have that issue.

A knock came at the door of her office, pulling her from her thoughts.

“One moment,” Zelda said, before taking the card and hastily set in the drawer of her desk. She should throw it away into the wastepaper bin, tear it up into pieces, and yet she found herself pushing the drawer shut, feeling a strange temptation dim but not entirely die away. “Come in,” she called.

The door pushed open, and her niece stood in the doorframe, bag slung over her shoulder as she stepped into the room. “How was work?”

“Busy,” Zelda sighed, rising from her chair. “How was school?”

“Fine.”

“Nothing happened, today?” Zelda inquired.

“Well,” Sabrina began, bouncing on the heels of her shoes. “Principle Wardwell did go on a warpath against Coach Craven. That was pretty cool.”

“Wardwell? Isn’t Hawthorne the principle there?”

“No, he left over Summer. It was in the news bulletin.”

Zelda rolled her eyes as if she cared to read that. The PTA and Parent-Teacher nights had always been Hilda’s realm of experience. There were limited choices of schooling in the area, and Baxter High had more students going off college than Riverdale. And like hell, she was sending Sabrina off to some boarding school as her parents had done with her, Edward and Hilda.

Collecting her day planner and unmarked essays, she began sliding them into her bag as she asked, “so why did your new Principle go on an alleged war party?”

“Craven said that Theo couldn’t join the men’s football team. So Roz and I complained to Wardwell, and she stormed off and immediately told him off in the middle of try-outs. It was…pretty awesome actually.”

“It’s definitely a way to make enemies,” Zelda said. “Take it from me, Sabrina. Public humiliation may force someone to obey for the moment, but they’ll look for any opportunity to enact their revenge.”

Sabrina’s lips pressed shut, her excitement dying. “I thought it was pretty great, actually. He should be called out for his actions.”

“And the best place to do that is in a formal setting,” Zelda said as she switched off the office light. Stepping into the hall, she drew the door shut and locked the door. “In a position of leadership, especially one so newly forged, it’s better to think about the long term effects of a stable work environment. Sowing discord will only turn the other teachers against her.”

“Well, the students love her,” Sabrina pointed out defiantly, missing the point.

With a sigh, Zelda drew up and rolled her shoulders. Her niece was sixteen, thinking the whole world revolved around her. Students came and went, but the teachers would remain, and if Principle Wardwell wanted to keep her job, it would be in her interest to make friends with the staff.

“How did your classes go?” she asked, deferring to a safe topic as they walked out of the university’s grounds to the parking lot. Sabrina began babbling beside her, discussing her recent marks in English and History, the study group she’d formed and then quietly toeing away from discussion of one particular class.

“Didn’t you have an exam for French today?”

Sabrina flushed, fiddling with her bag. “I…passed.”

Zelda paused, turning to look at her niece directly. “Define a pass.”

“C plus?”

Zelda bit back the flared anger as she pressed her lips together, watching as Sabrina squirmed under her scrutiny. “Perhaps I should switch to speaking French at home, then?”

“No, I hate it when you do that. Look, it barely makes up my grade, I’ll fix it up with the essay at the end of the month, and then I’ll be back to being an A-minus student.”

“Yes, well, unless you want your allowance to drop—“

“Come on! That’s hardly fair. It’s not like we live in France. I don’t even see the point in why I have to take this stupid class. ”

“Language is important, Sabrina. When you travel, you can’t just go around assuming everyone speaks English. By your age, I already spoke Italian and French fluently. By my twenties, I’d learnt Mandarin, German and Latin. Now, there are few languages that I don’t speak in one dialect or another.”

“I know, but…I don’t even know if I want to travel.”

“Of course you do,” Zelda said. “Everyone travels, or you’ll end up like your Aunt Hilda, working in a bookshop with no idea of how the world works.”

Sabrina went quiet as they arrived at the car. She climbed into the passenger seat, drawing her bag into her lap and buckled her seatbelt with a stony face.

Zelda drew in a breath, setting her own bag on the backseat before sitting down into the driver’s seat. Sabrina had always been soft for Hilda, defending her against Zelda any time she made a sniping comment towards her.

Perhaps the comment had been a little harsh. Only last night had the three of them broke out in an argument after Hilda advised that she would be permanently working at Cerberus Books and not just ‘helping out’ as she initially advised. Honestly, a retail assistant? Hilda had as fine an education as she had, and now Zelda was an academic, teaching at Greendale University, and Hilda…worked in a bookshop.

Not to mention the sudden talks of her moving out. Ambrose was still at university, in his final year of his masters, and Sabrina still had another year and a half before she was off, flying around the world before she settled on a college.

Leave? Unlikely. It was an empty threat Hilda proposed to hurt her.

They drove home in silence, with Sabrina’s growing bad mood taking up the space of the car. By the time that they arrived home. Sabrina didn’t even wait for the engine to switch off before she was unbuckling her seatbelt and running up the steps of the house.

Zelda paused, watching her niece push open the front door, likely to remain hidden in her room until summoned for dinner. She considered following up the stairs to Sabrina’s room and advising of how unacceptable her actions were, and yet the day felt heavy on her shoulders. She didn’t want another argument with Sabrina.

She didn’t want another argument. If Hilda would stop being so selfish, they could actually take the time to raise the children.

Stepping out of the car, she pulled out her bag from the backseat and then locked the doors behind her––not that it really mattered, they were so far out from any neighbours that there was a more pressing concern for a bear to get into the car, rather than a burglar.

She passed Ambrose sitting on the veranda, a book of poetry in grip and a glass of wine sitting next to him (in a tumbler, which she did take offence to, they owned perfectly suitable wine glasses).

“Auntie,” he greeted, looking up from the book. “How fairs the undergrads?”

“Fine,” she remarked. “I had the pleasure of seeing Prudence today.”

“Oh?” he remarked casually. “I had thought she’d have dropped out by now.”

“She asked about you.”

Ambrose seemed to pause, biting on the inside of his cheek before he gave a strained smile. “And should I go running into her arms again because she inquired as to how I was going?”

Zelda stared at him and watched as his face flushed with embarrassment.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“Don’t apologise when you don’t mean it, or learn to lie better.” She paused, watching guilt wash over his face. “You should speak to her. At the very least it might bring you the much-needed closure you require to move on.” Before he could say anything further, she brushed past him, entering into the foyer of the home.

A door slammed upstairs, signalling her niece’s growing foul mood. But unlike Ambrose, who often drowned the house with music to signal his moods, a stillness followed the slammed door.

Her eyes drew up to the stairs, a part of her wanted to seek out Sabrina and apologise before she snuffed out the very desire to do so. Instead, she drew to her home office and set her bag down, drawing out her computer and essays, preparing herself for evening work to be completed after dinner.

Drawing into the kitchen, she noticed that Hilda was already at the stove, stirring around what looked to be onion and mince. At the same time, she had an assortment of diced vegetables running on another element beside it.

“Evening, sister.”

“Oh! Zelds. I thought it was you.”

“Who else would it be?” she asked, going to the cupboards to pull out the dishes. Usually, it was Sabrina’s job to set the table for dinner, but she could wash up and dry the dishes after dinner, given her impetuous mood.

“Oh, well…” Hilda spluttered, before turning to look over her shoulder. “So, what did you think of Doctor Cee’s little shop? Quite the business, hm? And the café has been busy of late!”

Zelda bit her tongue to stop the first thoughts she had from coming out. She set down the plates before looking at her sister and catching the hesitation.

“It’s…good that you’re happy,” she said, feeling other words rise in the back of her throat. She swallowed them back and smiled at her sister, hoping it came across genuine enough.

Hilda returned the smile, and it was enough to unknot the growing anxiety in her chest. Perhaps they could make it through dinner without another argument.  “And have you given the book a look, yet? It’s flying out of the store lately. A real page-turner.”

Zelda gave a small nod. She’d got as far as the first page before the card had slid out onto her desk.

Swallowing, she tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, trying to not think of the words.

Dominatrix. She shivered, remembering what it was like to feel rope twist around her hands.

In her early twenties, she’d engaged in an assortment of different forms of BDSM with different partners, both on the receiving and giving end. And yet something about that embossed lettering brought a flicker to a long lost flame inside of her.

It had been…a long time—at least two years since she’d engaged in anything other than masturbation. The dating pool in Greendale and Riverdale was small enough that, inevitably, everyone knew everyone––and given her position, casual sex would only lead to complications. The last thing she needed was another man at her office, begging for a date.

Or a woman leading insistent voicemails on the landline.

But a dominatrix would be discreet. And it would just be an itch, after all.

A part of her worried. It could be a student she’d taught, trying to make extra money to pay for their education. Or it could be a number of acquaintances––someone from the board?

It could be Shirley. That thought sent a cold feeling down her spine.

“Zelds?”

She looked up, realising her sister had asked her a question. “Pardon?”

“I was just asking if you started the book.”

“Oh, just the first few pages. I’ll get to it on the weekend.”

Hilda squinted at her before stepping forward. “You’re looking a little flushed. You’re not coming down with the flu, are you? You’re always working yourself sick.”

“I’m fine,” she said, stepping away from her sister. “I’ll go tell Ambrose and Sabrina to wash-up, shall I?”

“Oh, yes, I suppose dinner will be made in a moment.”

____________