#this is nothing more infuriating than writing that serves no purpose to the plot

[clarahawthornewrites]

Writing Tragedies

One of the most infuriating books I've ever read ruins itself in the last few chapters. From the start, the protagonist has a clear goal with clear consequences, and readers spend the entire time subconsciously preparing for this outcome. But just when they think the protagonist has succeeded, a sudden tragic plot twist comes along and just... reverses everything the protagonist had worked toward. It left me feeling like the journey I'd followed for the past two hundred and something pages was all for nothing. After slamming the book shut, I began thinking about what differentiates an effective tragedy from one that just leaves the reader angry at the author. I realized there are three main questions that can be used to determine the difference between the two:

1. Is it foreshadowed?

The most impactful tragedies aren't the ones that come out of nowhere; the groundwork for them is laid out from the beginning. The foreshadowing doesn't have to be too obvious or heavy-handed, but the reader should be able to look back and notice the hints they may have missed. There's a common misconception that tragedies become less effective if the reader can predict them, but I personally believe the most gut-wrenching tragedies are when the reader knows the tragic outcome is inevitable but still let themselves get attached, clinging to the hope that everything will be okay until the very last second.

2. Does it make sense thematically?

On that note, tragedies should serve some purpose regarding the theme of the story. Does the tragedy make a meaningful statement or further characters' development? Or does it undo what you've spent the entire story crafting for the sake of shock value? Sometimes the statement an author is trying to make *is* that life is unpredictable and senseless tragedies happen, and that's fine if it's what the story calls for. But if you spend the whole story establishing an optimistic, lighthearted tone only to sucker-punch the reader with a heartbreaking plot twist, they'll end up feeling betrayed.

3. Does the reader have a reason to care?

And finally, readers won't be emotionally affected by a tragedy if they can't connect with the story or its characters. There are two main ways to avoid this. The first is to create likable, three-dimensional characters – naturally, readers will care more about a character they enjoy reading about or can relate to than a flat, unlikable one. The second is to create contrast. If a story's tone is grim and depressing throughout, readers will become desensitized. But by adding lighthearted moments, the tragic ones will feel much more impactful.

I hope these tips were helpful, and feel free to add onto the list!!

[binch-i-might-be]

you know what I'm just gonna drop it here. for closure <3

To preface this, I made a goodreads account solely to rate this book because it enraged me just that much.

Alright! First of all, I'd like to explain my two star rating: the only reason I didn't give this trainwreck one star is that the first half of the book was decently funny in places. I liveblogged reading it on my tumblr, and generally had a good time!

The second half, though. Oh boy.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. First of all, I'd like to say a few words about our titular characters:

They are actually insufferable. Mary Eliza Philipse is one of the flattest, most undynamic, helpless characters I've had the displeasure of reading about in a long time. There's nothing to her except the trauma and guilt about her mother's death and the fact that the "Belle of the north" is too humble and oblivious to realise that everyone is attracted to her.

She considers herself cursed because of the various deaths following her, and I must admit, in the beginning I did feel for her a little, but good God it's the only thing this girl ever thinks about. Well, aside from her general tingliness in the presence of one Colonel Washington.

Our boy George himself was... ugh. I am an unabashed enjoyer of George Washington fiction, even if his character usually ends up lowkey to highkey annoying; I don't mind it that much as long as he's entertaining.

Here, he was... fine? In places. He keeps mentally repeating the rules of decency or whatever to himself, which I found extremely funny. I also have to remind myself how to act like a normal human at any given time #NeurodivergentMood

But yeah, this isn't my favourite George I've seen by a long shot. The man is always pining for his One True Love, and when he isn't, he's preoccupied with his military exploits that are usually written as dryly as humanly possible.

Now, this feels like a good place to segue into what infuriated me the most about this goddamn novel:

The writing. It's. BAD. It's just bad! I don't even know what more to say! As a writer myself, I was borderline foaming at the mouth with every new poorly constructed and entirely unemotional paragraph.

Isn't Mary Calvi a journalist? Isn't she supposed to know what sentence structure is? That she can start sentences with words other than "She" and "He"? That synonyms exist and she in fact doesn't have to reuse the exact same word for three sentences in a row when it doesn't serve any purpose aside from getting on my nerves? Shouldn't she be aware of... filter words? This is a huge reason why I felt (<- filter word btw!) so removed from our POV characters the entire time. They are little more than words on a page, and Mary Calvi has no interest in making you forget that fact.

I would like to provide a brief example before we move on. This is a direct quote: "He [George] stroked the side of her face. He felt her shiver. He placed his other hand into the back of her hair, feeling silkiness through his fingers. He felt her relax in his arms, soften."

Ah yes. Sixth grade level creative writing in a professionally published book written by a journalist, we love to see it.

Okay, moving on to my last point: plot.

The plot was... well, for the most part, not really present? The first half (Part One and Two) were more character driven, our lovebirds getting to know one another and falling in love—or, well, "tingliness". And that was fine! As I said, the first half of the novel was the more enjoyable part!

Unfortunately, with Part Three and Four, Mary Calvi tries herself at an actual plot, or something resembling such. Our star-crossed lovers are separated when George is called back to the military, and as a warning, this is where I'm going to get into spoilers.

Their separation was actually unbearable. George's parts were little more than dry descriptions of military life and efforts, and Mary... I honestly don't know, I zoned out for most of her rambling. She is heartbroken over their separation, she is determined to keep her promise of waiting for him, she is lonely, she is being courted by Some Guy who she ends up marrying in spite of everything, she laments that two years have passed without word from George and that she doesn't know how much longer she can wait because at this point she is 27.

Please remember that. George never writes to her—and he doesn't! Not from what we, the readers, see! He pines and frets and yearns for his sweet Mary Eliza, and yet we never see him write to her even just once. He has some other military guy who sends him letters about Mary to keep him updated (normal behaviour btw).

And yet! The big plottwist at the end (after the twenty year timeskip that I am not getting into because it made everything so much worse) is Mary receiving a bunch of his letters... which he wrote to her back then... unbeknownst to the reader... kept away from her by her older brother so she would mary That Other Guy.

Like. MAN. It would have made an adequate plot point if it hadn't been so convoluted. Just a little bit of foreshadowing... a single mention of letters... apart from that one time they briefly reunite and George thinks for one sentence that he wants to ask why she never responded to his letters. Sir, what letters are you TALKING about. For the love of GOD.

Okay. Calm.

Yeah so, this really reads more as a very early draft than a finished novel. Sentences like "She [Mary] tiptoed and her bare feet felt the touch of the cool wood below her feet." early on in the book did not inspire much confidence. Did this book have an actual editor? Or did Mary Calvi just throw all her thoughts into a manuscript and sent it straight to print.

Now, to close this review out: if you're a fan of corny historical fiction romances featuring the first president of the United States of America, I'm afraid I would have to recommend this to you—not because it's worth a read, but because the genre is unfortunately not very plentiful. If you're simply a fan of historical romances, I am 100% certain you can find something actually pleasant to read. If you're set on reading this one, I'd recommend stopping after Part Two, because the latter half is barely tolerable.

Anyway, thanks for reading. I feel better now <3

alright I typed up my review of Dear George, Dear Mary on goodreads. do not understand goodreads tho and have no idea how to share it on here. uhhhh profile

[thewillowbends]

Thoughts on TLJ - SPOILERS

Now for some spoilery content!  Now that I've had a sleepless night going over some of my feelings about it, I can shuffle through what I did and didn't like.

- - - - -

TLJ Positivity:

-I liked the trajectory of Rey's whole storyline.  I had hedged my bets between two concepts - Rey as Anakin reborn (which, admittedly, I preferred because I'm an indulgent prequel junkie) or that she was a nobody, representing an entirely new generation to whom the Skywalker legacy was being handed to.  The wound up being the latter, but I'm not as disappointed as I expected.  While I have...many, many issues with some of the characterization in this film, hers felt like it progressed the most naturally.  This idea of legacies and prophecies going the way of the past, of letting a new generation start fresh but not at the expense of destroying it, of letting the PEOPLE take ahold of their destiny instead of the burden falling on a few "chosen ones" is not something I feel is necessarily a bad moral lesson for the audience nor fundamentally detrimental to the movies' previous material.

Note: I'm still writing that Rey-as-Anakin fic.  YOU CAN'T STOP ME DISNEY.

-Adam Driver has a really nice gym routine.  So does John Boyega.

-Kelly Marie Tran is adorable, guys.  She is literally the cutest.

-A film could never hurt for more POC and they could definitely use in the main cast, but I will say that the newer movies definitely feel more "casually diverse."  There are POC in the Rebellion, POC in villains, POC in the civilian culture, POC in the main cast.  It doesn't feel forced.  They're just THERE, which is how it should be.

-Adam Driver is also really good in this movie.  Considering we're not getting as extensive a backstory as most of us wished for Ben, he still does a remarkable job making the character engaging through his performance.  They essentially give him Vader's original plotline in ESB/ROTJ before the "Vader as Anakin" storyline came into fruition.  So he's sort of Vader's heir in a new and more devastating way.  Kylo isn't emotionally stable or enough of a visionary to really be the driving force of an empire, so it'll be interesting to see how that tension between Hux and Kylo works itself out in the last film.

- @ahollowyear  - I got a real kick out of how much of the actual storyline you accurately predicted vis a vis Kylo and Rey.  You wrote that fanfic, what, a year before the details of TLJ even started coming out?

-I am deeply relieved that we avoided the reductive light/dark balance the trailers teased at.  The dark side is still what imbalances the Force - it inevitably exists but is not necessary for balance.  Also, that the main cast's discussion of ~character complexity~ was not that open ended, since the film's protagonists actively reject more of the nihilistic viewpoints being thrown by side characters.

-Carrie Fisher is always and forever the queen. <3

-I liked the final scenes with Luke.  I really liked the choice of a binary sunset to bookend Luke's story.  Genreally, I'm not a huge fan of ALL POWERFUL JEDI, but I can deal with astral projected battles from a Skywalker because Skywalkers are special.  But he went out in a way that I found meaningful and touching.

TLJ Negativity:

WHERE THE HELL ARE RIAN JOHNSON'S EDITORS IN THIS MOVIE.

Seriously, what was going on with the writing process here?  Why is the plot all over the damn place?  (Answer: Because they didn't plot out this arcs in advance and it shows.)  Why do we spend 30-40 mintues on a casino sidequest that literally has NO ACTUAL EFFECT ON THE GODDAMN PLOT.  What are characters like Benicio del Toro's and Laura Dern even doing in this film?  We literally are trying to balance nearly two casts (OT/ST) worth of character development, the last thing you want or need is unnecessary characters distracting from the main development or wasted scenery.  And that's what literally the entire middle chunk of Rose and Finn's plotline - wasted action.

There are so many good ideas struggling to be communicated in the absolute muddled mess that is the middle of the movie.  We have a storyline about light and dark being natural opposite but neither being an inevitability outside of our personal choices.  We have the theme of the natural order of things, life begetting death begetting life, and the idea of legacies carrying us through strife so that we can become the heroes of our own making instead of relying on others to save us.  There's commentary about the significance of failures, how sometimes they're more important than victories because of what they reveal to us about ourselves and each other, and how we come to terms with them when they can't be easily remedied.  The casino is clearly meant to be a commentary about exploitative capitalism and the way the evil of fascism destroys culture and people from the top down.  All of these are great ideas, but you need to have that effectively communicated to your audience, and you need to communicate it meaningfully.

And the characters.  THE CHARACTERS.  The chaaaaaaaaaaaaraaaaacters.

Rey and Kylo I'm fine with.  Their development doesn't bother me.  I can even deal with Rose, though I wish her purpose in the plot wasn't so hamfisted.

But Finn and Poe?  Why did it feel like their character arcs literally rebooted for this film?  Poe is clearly inteded to be a kind of surrogate son to Leia ("mother of the rebellion"), serving as a foil to Ben, so I get why there's a general parallel there in the two progressing toward leadership roles - one who violently grasps at power, while the other faces some hard lessons about the reality and sacrifice of command as opposed to heroics.  I feel like that's a natural progression of what we saw in their relationship in TFA, but it still feels like a step back because the level of experience and confidence we saw in him in TFA doesn't mirror how Leia views him in TLJ.  If anything, he should have been growing into the position of command so that Leia can effectively and believably pass that legacy on to him.  Instead, what we get is a plotline that suggests to us that Poe isn't really ready for him, which is...regressive?  Like, all of these character should have been going through these changes at the start of the film, not ending on them.

(This being said, what the hell is wrong with Admiral Holdo that she can't understand the value of basic communication?  Like, she's meant as a lesson to the audience about mistaking reckless action for heroism, but it's hard not to agree with Poe when she's literally telling NOBODY UNDER HER NOTHING.  How easily could all of that drama been avoided if she's just said what the actual plan was instead of creating so much fear and uncertainty on the bridge?)

(I totally ship Leia/Holdo though.)

And Finn.  Oh my God, I feel so bad for John Boyega.  What a waste of his charisma and talent.  Most of TFA is Finn going from a deserter seeking *individual* salvation from the First Order and recognizing by the end the responsibility one has in the stand against evil.  So he basically...rehashes that entire character development here?  Wouldn't it have made more sense to see him struggling with his reputation as a hero in the Rebellion and then coming to terms with his new role?  Let him wrestle with the existentialist uncertainty of being able to make his own choices!  Explore the trauma of his experiences in the army by having him struggle with his fear and uncertainty while infiltrating the First Order - use it to emphasize the contradictions of his experiences with the freedom of his new life.

If you wanted to interject some moral ambiguity, why not have him address the issue that the New Order's army is essentially a SLAVE army?  Wouldn't that scene with Phasma held much greater power if he'd tried to appeal to his fellow soldiers about the destruction the New Order has wrought on their lives, about the potential they could have if they rose up against them?  If you're going to have Benicio del Toro nihilistically declaring that the war is endless and therefore moral standpoints are meaningless, why not have Finn reject that meaningfully to both the audience outside the movie and within it?  Legit y'all, my ideal ending for this man is to take his place in helping rebuild a newer, better system for all of them - and what better way than by helping to rehabilitate his fellow child soldiers?

Just ugh, out of everything that bothers me in the movie, Finn is the character that leaves the worst taste in my mouth.  He was my favorite in TFA, and his character development should be progressing beyond this point by now.

Also: GOD HELP ME if they kill off Leia in episode III.  It would be beyond heartless and irresponsible given the overall thematic trend of the movies.  The character who tells us dejectedly that she "went out fighting" is arguably the one who should live to pass the legacy on and die peacefully.

TLJ neutrality:

-I am on the fence regarding Luke's characterization, leaning towards finding it less problematic than others might.  He's pretty clearly suffering from severe depression, which can take a person to some pretty dark places.  Most of my struggles with his characterization center around his confrontation of Ben.  Do I feel that Luke is somebody who would pull the blade on his nephew?  Part of me violently rejects that, but there's another part that considers it from the perspective of somebody dealing with the horror of thinking he created another Vader, of knowing what Ben could become, of the Force showing him a horrific future...and giving into that temptation the dark side presents in thinking our choices are already made. I can dig the idea that part of nefariousness of the dark is in undermining our belief in full agency.  Could I believeably see him, in a moment of weakness, pulling his lightsaber?  I'm vacillating on the issue.  Ben Solo isn't all that particularly different from Jason in the old EU, and Luke toed the line of darkness dealing with his fall, too.

-I'd really like more EU exposition as to what exactly what down with Snoke and Ben when he was a child.  How was he already THAT damaged by the time of Luke's confrontation with him?  What was going on that Luke was either blind to or struggling to care for him without Leia and Han's help?

-I go between feeling like Leia was well used here to feeling like she could have done so much more, that we could have seen more emotional strife with her where Ben and Luke are concerned.  Instead, we knock her out partway through the movie, which is such a shame because we no longer have the option of the third movie to be her swan song.  Carrie Fisher was wonderful here, but I struggle with whether I feel like this story gave her the send off she deserved.

-The twins reunion.  It was touching and memorable, don't get me wrong, but it's sad to think that's the end of it.  I figured something like that was coming, but STILL.  God, Skywalker/Organa life depresses me.

-Speaking of, I'm a total idiot because it took me entirely too long to catch on to what was going on the astral projection scene.  Hurr hurr, I said, when did Luke build a new lightsaber?  And get sweet clothes?  And did he lift the X-wing out of the water to get there?  omfg, all of the hints were there, I'm just ridiculous.

-Yes, the scene with Leia saving herself with the Force is pretty cool.  Not sure if I feel it toes into ridiculous territory, though.

-SWEAR TO GOD DISNEY, if you give me a love triangle in the third film with girl fighting over Finn, I will flip my shit.

TLJ LOLs:

This movie practically made Rey and Ben canon, and I had a tremendously unkind moment of smug amusement at how the more obnoxious antis were going to react to this film. The histrionic discourse is the thing of legends, let me tell you.

[showtoonzfan]

Apologies beforehand since this is a long rant:

Following on from what Hugesopp said, as someone who owns a grimoire (for educational purposes) it genuinely irks me how Viv doesn't utilise anything in it - we see the book being used to make portals, and we've seen Stolas use it to summon the 'Harvest Moon', which is just a blood moon. For something that holds the essence of demonology you think she'd pay more attention to it. Why not have have the group use some herbs and spices to summon the portal instead ? It at least makes sense that way since the book doesn't mention portals at all as far as I remember. If Viv has the time to use Stolas' sigil (simplified though it may be) then she can at least find a decent way to make the book relevant.

I can understand why Stolas has the book since it focuses on herbs and astronomy, which is what he represents - but it's never competently used. If the book was just going to be used for portals then why not it just call it a spellbook? Why use Grimoire if you're going to do nothing with it ? It just seems like Viv likes using the appearance of demons and Hell but never actually gives it any thought.

The setting is supposed to be Hell yet we have this LA, New York, circus vibe going on instead - which is fitting since the show is a bit of a joke now. For a show that's supposed to be half-serious, there's no sense of plot or character development (and when there is, it's because the characters are making decisions that they never learn from).

I honestly thought we we're gonna get some character development from ep 6 onwards but instead it's like the show resets every episode and anything of value is just forgotten; the only competent character so far is Moxxie, yet for the sake of plot convenience, Viv has him make stupid decisions - Blitz started off as a semi-funny character but now he's just an ass, Millie's just become insensitive and Loona has zero development aside from being furry bait. Moxie could be a really competent character to watch, as he's the only one to go through moral dilemmas yet Viv treats her one (1) good character as a punching bag. To me it just says that Viv has no idea how to write complex characters. If you're going to have resetting episodes then don't give us 'plot' at the END of season 1 and dilute your characters to unbearable stereotypes.

It's the same thing with how she designs the carnal sins - they all seem to have a circus vibe to them (which is fine if you're going to utilise it, but she doesn't). Ozzie's is supposed to be a high-class restaurant yet it's built like a circus tent, why ? What purpose does it serve, and why have Moxxie go there to sing a serenade!? It's just another case of "Moxxie make bad decision for plot convenience". And why focus on just sexual lust? Why not material lust or bloodlust - at least the serenade would fit in then, but no, Viv has to pick the obvious option (the easy option instead of ADDING something to the world building). It's infuriating when I think about it.

It's the same thing will Fizz - why introduce him in ep 2 when we'd meet the REAL version in ep 7 ? If you look for all the details too, RoboFizz looks more like Mammon. Now don't get me wrong, I like Fizz - he's witty, sarcastic and takes Blitz off his high horse but if he's so detrimental to Blitz's character then why don't we see him more ? Why not explore you characters - heck, I've seen Spongebob episodes with more character focus than this.

And why the Hell is Mammon running some shabby knock-off amusement park? He's the sin of greed, you'd think that he'd be the one running Disneyworld (sorry I meant Lu Lu World). I can understand it from a 'money-saving' standpoint but why give him this con-artist vibe to him. Why not make him akin to an investor, taking risks but always doubling, trippling and even quadrupling his money income? His face is even printed on the money in the episode, why make him have a shabby knock-off??? Uurgh Viv's just infuriating me with this level of creative laziness.

It's the same thing as the musical shtick Viv's got going on - why have songs if they're not going to drive the story forwards ? Moxxie's trip song is the only one I can kinda get on board with for moving character interactions forwards but again Viv can't help herself, and instead of having a sweet, heartfelt song of Moxxie's inner troubles, she shoehorns in an anal joke. Why!? Instead of allowing her characters to grow, we have to revert back to cheap sex jokes. The initial comedy beforehand of "no I'm a ViRgO" did get a laugh out of me but aside from that, the scene turned serious - there's a time and a place for comedy and having sex jokes in what should be a heartfelt song just doesn't cut it, and it really shows how reluctant Viv is to make any form of competent development in her series.

Sorry for the longwinded rant but I really wanted to get this off my chest...

Nah I agree with everything you said 100%. First off, yeah, it’s clear Viv is NOT good at research, or hell, it’s clear she barley DOES any. She has Stolas in her show, a demon prince who studies astronomy and all that jazz I said before, yet his occupation barely has ANYTHING to do with the show or the character itself. Him being a prince doesn’t even do much, it does SOME but not much, and like I said before, we barley know anything about his job and the book ect. Like...we’ll see that he owns plants, and from what Viv said in a livestream, he apparently teaches stuff to Octavia occasionally, but this all seems to be more of a background thing other than what’s upfront, which all he is is just a horny sex craving maniac, and his book is just a portal, nothing else honestly, so you’re right, why make it a grimoire if you’re not even ganna use it to its full potential? Matter of fact, why have STOLAS in this show if you’re not ganna use him to his full potential? So far, you could honestly switch Stolas out with any random demon royalty and get the same reaction.

But moving on to the other stuff you said, yeah I mean I agree. There’s so much to say, but to make it short this show is just a mess, an utter mess. The comedy sucks in my opinion, the world building is awful, it’s either barley explained, unimaginative, or makes no sense, the characters will make dumbass decisions and do or act a certain way for plot convenience, each episode has SO many inconsistencies and half of the time they act like the previous never happened, all the “character development” blitz and moxxie got in episode 6 that everyone keeps praising gets practically thrown out the window, Blitz and Stolas are just too unlikable and horrible for me to sympathize with them and their relationship is forced and unbalanced, Millie and Loona barley get any development, I can go ON and ON. All I can say is that the main thing that ruined this show is how it started off a silly comedy about demon assassins going to earth to kill people, and now it wants to take itself seriously when Viv and Brandon can’t handle writing emotional conflicts and relationships well. This show should have stayed a silly comedy you’re not supposed to take seriously, and simply save the emotional and serious stuff for Hazbin, but if you honestly asked me, Helluva should have just been an animated short film, nothing more, nothing less.

[gwynsplainer]

On The Grinning Man and the De-Politicization of L'Homme Qui Rit (a Spontaneous Essay)

Since I watched The Grinning Man I’ve been meaning to write a post comparing it to The Man Who Laughs but I have a lot of opinions and analysis I wanted to do so I have been putting it off for ages. So here goes! If I were to make a post where I explain everything the musical changes it would definitely go over the word limit, so I’ll mostly stick to the thematic. Let me know if that’s a post you’d like to see, though!

Ultimately, The Grinning Man isn’t really an adaptation of the Man Who Laughs. It keeps some of the major plot beats (a disfigured young man with a mysterious past raised by a man and his wolf to perform to make a living alongside the blind girl he rescued from the snow, restored to his aristocratic past by chance after their show is seen by Lord David and Duchess Josiana, and the interference of the scheming Barkilphedro…. well, that’s just about it). The problem I had with the show, however, wasn’t the plot points not syncing up, it was the thematic inconsistency with the book. By replacing the book’s antagonistic act—the existence of a privileged ruling class—with the actions of one or two individuals from the lower class, transforming the societal tragedy into a revenge plot, and reducing the pain of dehumanization and abuse to the pain of a physical wound, The Grinning Man is a sanitized, thematically weak failure to adapt The Man Who Laughs.

I think the main change is related to the reason I posit the book never made it in the English-speaking world. The musical was made in England, the setting of the book which was so critical of its monarchy, it’s aristocracy, and the failings of its society in ways that really haven’t been remedied so far. It might be a bit of a jump to assume this is connected, but I have evidence. They refer to it as a place somewhat like our own, but change King James to King Clarence, and Queen Anne to Angelica. Obviously, the events of the book are fictional, and it was a weird move for Hugo to implicate real historical figures as responsible for the torture of a child, but it clearly served a purpose in his political criticism that the creative team made a choice to erase. They didn’t just change the names, though, they replaced the responsibility completely. In the book, Gwynplaine’s disfigurement—I will be referring to him as Gwynplaine because I think the musical calling him Grinpayne was an incredibly stupid and cruel choice—was done to him very deliberately, with malice aforethought, at the order of the king. The king represents the oppression of the privileged, and having the fault be all Barkilphédro loses a lot thematically. The antagonism of the rich is replaced by the cruelty of an upwardly mobile poor man (Barkilphédro), and the complicity of another poor man.

The other “villain” of the original story is the way that Gwynplaine is treated. I think for 1869, this was a very ahead-of-its-time approach to disability, which almost resembles the contemporary understanding of the Social Model of disability. (Sidenote: I can’t argue on Déa’s behalf. Hugo really dropped the ball with her. I’m going to take a moment to shout out the musical for the strength and agency they gave Déa.) The way the public treats Gwynplaine was kind of absent from the show. I thought it was a very interesting and potentially good choice to have the audience enter the role of Gwynplaine’s audience (the first they see of him is onstage, performing as the Grinning Man) rather than the role of the reader (where we first see him as a child, fleeing a storm). If done right, this could have explored the story’s theme of our tendency to place our empathy on hold in order to be distracted and feel good, eventually returning to critique the audience’s complicity in Gwynplaine’s treatment. However, since Grinpayne’s suffering is primarily based in the angst caused by his missing past and the physical pain of his wound (long-healed into a network of scars in the book) [a quick side-note: I think it was refreshing to see chronic pain appear in media, you almost never see that, but I wish it wasn’t in place of the depth of the original story], the audience does not have to confront their role in his pain. They hardly play one. Instead, it is Barkilphédro, the singular villain, who is responsible for Grinpayne’s suffering. Absolving the audience and the systems of power which put us comfortably in our seats to watch the show of pain and misery by relegating responsibility to one character, the audience gets to go home feeling good.

If you want to stretch, the villain of the Grinning Man could be two people and not one. It doesn’t really matter, since it still comes back to individual fault, not even the individual fault of a person of high status, but one or two poor people. Musical!Ursus is an infinitely shittier person than his literary counterpart. In the book, Gwynplaine is still forced to perform spectacles that show off his appearance, but they’re a lot less personal and a lot less retraumatizing. In the musical, they randomly decided that not only would the role of the rich in the suffering of the poor be minimized, but also it would be poor people that hurt Grinpayne the most. Musical!Ursus idly allows a boy to be mutilated and then takes him in and forces him to perform a sanitized version of his own trauma while trying to convince him that he just needs to move on. In the book, he is much kinder. Their show, Chaos Vanquished, also allows him to show off as an acrobat and a singer, along with Déa, whose blindness isn’t exploited for the show at all. He performs because he needs to for them all to survive. He lives a complex life like real people do, of misery and joy. He’s not obsessed with “descanting on his own deformity” (dark shoutout to William Shakespeare for that little…infuriating line from Richard III), but rather thoughtfully aware of what it means. He deeply feels the reality of how he is seen and treated. Gwynplaine understands that he was hurt by the people who discarded him for looking different and for being poor, and he fucking goes off about it in the Parliament Confrontation scene (more to come on this). It is not a lesson he has to learn but a lesson he has to teach.

Grinpayne, on the other hand, spends his days in agony over his inability to recall who disfigured him, and his burning need to seek revenge. To me, this feels more than a little reminiscent of the trope of the Search for a Cure which is so pervasive in media portrayals of disability, in which disabled characters are able to think of nothing but how terribly wrong their lives went upon becoming disabled and plan out how they might rectify this. Grinpayne wants to avenge his mutilation. Gwynplaine wants to fix society. Sure, he decides to take the high road and not do this, and his learning is a valuable part of the musical’s story, but I think there’s something so awesome about how the book shows a disabled man who understands his life better than any abled mentor-philosophers who try to tell him how to feel. Nor is Gwynplaine fixed by Déa or vice versa, they merely find solace and strength in each other’s company and solidarity. The musical uses a lot of language about love making their bodies whole which feels off-base to me.

I must also note how deeply subversive the book was for making him actually happy: despite the pain he feels, he is able to enjoy his life in the company and solidarity he finds with Déa and takes pride in his ability to provide for her. The assumption that he should want to change his lot in life is not only directly addressed, but also stated outright as a failure of the audience: “You may think that had the offer been made to him to remove his deformity he would have grasped at it. Yet he would have refused it emphatically…Without his rictus… Déa would perhaps not have had bread every day”

He has a found family that he loves and that loves him. I thought having him come from a loving ~Noble~ family that meant more to him than Ursus did rather than having Ursus, a poor old man, be the most he had of a family in all his memory and having Déa end up being Ursus’ biological daughter really undercut the found family aspect of the book in a disappointing way.

Most important to me was the fundamental change that came from the removal of the Parliament Confrontation scene, on both the themes of the show and the character of Gwynplaine. When Gwyn’s heritage is revealed and his peerage is restored to him, he gets the opportunity to confront society’s problems in the House of Parliament. When Gwynplaine arrives in the House of Parliament, the Peers of England are voting on what inordinate sum to allow as income to the husband of the Queen. The Peers expect any patriotic member of their ranks to blithely agree to this vote: in essence, it is a courtesy. Having grown up in extreme poverty, Gwynplaine is outraged by the pettiness of this vote and votes no. The Peers, shocked by this transgression, allow him to take the stand and explain himself. In this scene, Gwynplaine brilliantly and profoundly confronts the evils of society. He shows the Peers their own shame, recounting how in his darkest times a “pauper nourished him” while a “king mutilated him.” Even though he says nothing remotely funny, he is received with howling laughter. This scene does a really good job framing disability as a problem of a corrupt, compassionless society rather than something wrong with the disabled individual (again, see the Social Model of disability, which is obviously flawed, but does a good job recognizing society that denies access, understanding and compassion—the kind not built on pity—as a central problem faced by disabled communities). It is the central moment of Hugo’s story thematically, which calls out the injustices in a system and forces the reader to reckon with it.

It is so radical and interesting and full that Gwynplaine is as brilliant and aware as he is. He sees himself as a part of a system of cruelty and seeks justice for it. He is an empathic, sharp-minded person who seeks to make things better not just for himself and his family, but for all who suffer as he did at the hands of Kings. Grinpayne’s rallying cry is “I will find and kill the man who crucified my face.” He later gets wise to the nature of life and abandons this, but in that he never actually gets to control his own relationship to his life. When I took a class about disability in the media one of the things that seemed to stand out to me most is that disabled people should be treated as the experts on their own experiences, which Gwynplaine is. Again, for a book written in 1869 that is radical. Grinpayne is soothed into understanding by the memory of his (rich) mother’s kindness.

I’ll give one more point of credit. I loved that there was a happy ending. But maybe that’s just me. The cast was stellar, and the puppetry was magnificent. I wanted to like the show so badly, but I just couldn’t get behind what it did to the story I loved.

[rachelbethhines]

TTS Songs Ranked Worst to Best

Someone asked me to rank my fav and least fav TTS songs a while back, but I’ve since then relistened to the soundtrack and there’s a whole bunch of songs that just forgot about, so here’s a more accurate ranking now that the songs are more fresh in my mind

32 .  Life After Happily Ever After (Reprise)

This song is infuriating, because the finale is infuriating. Listening to this song just makes me angry all over again because it reminds me just how unsatisfying the ending to TTS was. I wanted to turn it off at several points. I barely can get through it despite it being so short. It doesn’t help that the soundtrack leaves all the dialogue in there and fails to actually end the song. It just cuts off before the final note.

31. Hook Foot’s Ballad

Does this even count as a song? Why is it here on the soundtrack but not the Hurt Incantation? Did Menken really waste his talent writing a joke and did the showrunners really waste money and limited resources on this?

30. Friendship Song

Bland, boring, and pointless. It was clearly written as a marketing stunt for the radio disney charts and not as anything to do with the plot of the series. They just throw it up on screen to fill out the running time and don't even let the whole song play through. It’s pitiful.

29. Waiting in the Wings (Reprise)

I didn’t think much of the original song one way or the other, but the reprise is soooo dumb. The plot twist it introduces winds up ruining the whole show and sabotaging both Cassandra’s and Rapunzel’s characters. It’s not even a nice sounding song on it’s own. The kid’s voice is irritating (who I’m sure is doing her best, but really little kids shouldn’t be made to sing professionally as a general rule) and the melody just as bland as the first time it was played. The only reason to like this song is if you’r a mega fan of Cassandra’s or her VA, which I am not. (Note: this is not a criticism of Eden Espinosa, I just don’t happen to follow any of the VAs in this show)      

28. Through It All

I like the instrumentals in this song, and that’s about it. Everything about this song is wrong. It doesn’t fit the story, it’s a misuse of the cast and songwriters, it’s a waste of valuable screen time, the melody is dull, and the dang soundtrack had to throw in that lame dialogue about ‘greatest threat ever’ at the beginning. If you want a pump up song in your story then you got to earn it. You can’t just tell us things are bad, you got to show it. A joyful horseback ride and everyone sitting in a bar safe and sound isn’t threatening or depressing enough to warrant a cheering up session. Plus the song itself doesn’t add anything to the overall story.

27.  The Girl Who Has Everything

Sometimes I think the writers were willing trying to sabotage themselves. It’s as if they were determined to make the only two main female characters in the show unlikeable bitches in season three.   Don’t believe me? The creator Chris has said this song only exists to highlight how much easier Rapunzel has things than Cass and went onto say that Rapunzel was in the wrong during their conflict because ‘she held Cassandra back’. (Oh yeah she totally ‘held back’ the grown woman who left on her own accord, returned on her own accord, and then assaulted and tried to murder a bunch of people for no reason of her own accord.) But this song does succeed in furthering season’s three narrative that Rapunzel is a spoiled selfish brat. Shame the story fails to address this setup and never has Rapunzel learn to be a better person. Rather the narrative bends over backward to tell us how special Rapunzel is without any sense of self awareness and this song falls into that same trap; making it both irritating and pointless.

26. Listen Up

Yeah, I talked about this on my salt marathon, but I just don't like this song very much. The melody is fine but the lyrics are a real miss in my mind. It doesn’t help matters that the song is indeed pointless in the grand scheme of things.

25.  Livin’ the Dream

This is much on the same level as Listen Up as it features the same problems. It doesn’t add to the narrative and the lyrics kind of let it down. I placed it higher just because I like the melody a little more.

24.  More of Me

This song is a lot like the Friendship Song in that it was created to be an end credit song for the pop charts and you’d be forgiven in forgetting it even exists. However, it at least got to actually play all the way through. I think this song was a real missed opportunity. I honestly believe that it should have been the opening theme song of the show instead of Wind in My Hair. It’s more built to serve such a purpose and it’s a waste of resources not to actually use it. Alternatively, I would have accepted it being reworked into the actual series as a character song. Especially since we’re missing a song in season three due to budget cuts.  

23. Wind In My Hair

Speaking of theme songs, I think I would like Wind In My Hair a lot better if i didn’t have to listen to it every episode. On its own it actually has a lot of things going for it; a nice melody, interesting instrumentals, good singing, ect. Unfortunately it’s just over exposed, and none of those elements lend themselves naturally to an intro song for a tv show. In fact the theme song feels really out of place and is edited oddly to fit the shorter intro. 

22. Wind In My Hair (Reprise)  

Honestly the theme song is mostly comprised of this reprise, but it has the opening instrumentals from the OG song frankensteined onto it. This means that the version that plays before every episode is on fullblast all the time to keep the energy up, but that’s not how the song is suppose to go.  The actual reprise that plays in the pilot builds to a crescendo, starting soft and melancolony and getting louder and more hopeful and determined. It sounds a lot better in full because of that.  It’s still too overexposed though. Both these songs would probably be higher on the list of not for the theme song version. 

21. With You by My Side

This song is fine. It’s nothing special, but it’s not bad either. What knocks it down the list is the fact that Lance isn’t in it, despite Lance being right there.  Like don't bother hiring a famous Broadway singer if you’re not going to have him sing!  But that speaks more to the poor writing of season two than anything else. This song also doesn’t really add anything to the narrative as, contrary to what the writers intended, it doesn’t actually enhance the emotional impact of Cassandra’s betrayal later in the episode. The song itself is just tacked on and doesn’t take the opportunity to lay down any foreshadowing for that plot point.  

20. Next Stop Anywhere

Another perfectly serviable song. It’s not bad but nothing outstanding. It gets the job done. It’s also really ho-hum and the soundtrack keeps all the unneeded dialogue, which is a pet peeve of mine. 

19. Waiting In the Wings

Despite it’s hype, I never thought much of Waiting in the Wings. It’s got nice instrumentals and Eden Espinosa gives it her all in the singing department. The problem is it’s too generic. It’s a bare bones basic ass ‘I want song’. Cassandra's movations are weak and unsupported by the narrative, the melody is boring, and it honestly doesn’t add anything to her story. I mean it should, it’s her character solo, but because she’s written so poorly the song just winds up undermining the character in the end.   All I’m saying is that, this is not the song from season two that I would have nominated for the Emmys. But it’s still Alan Menken, it’s still nicely performed, and given the rest of the competition for that year, it did deserve to win. 

18. If I Could Take That Moment Back 

This song is also pretty generic, but it’s less boring than I See the Light, (yeah, I said it, I See the Light is boring) so that’s a win in my book. Ergo this holds the title of the only New Dream duet that I enjoy. But there’s better stuff on this list. 

17. Next Stop Anywhere (Reprise)

Well no, I take that back. The reprise of Next Stop Anywhere is also technically a New Dream duet. It’s still not anything amazing, but it works for what it is. Plus, Adria’s opening dialogue in the soundtrack version doesn’t bother me quite as much as some of the other dialogues choices that were kept in.  

16. Stronger Than Ever Before 

I really enjoyed this song in the moment. It’s catchy and fun, and it finally has Lance doing something rather than ignoring his existence. However it is borderline unnecessary in terms of story placement, and I’m slightly mad at it now that I know that we could have gotten a Rapunzel and Varian duet but it was scrapped for this instead.   

15. Crossing the Line

Keeping with the theme of ‘songs I have conflicting emotions about’, we have Crossing the Line.  This song is confused. It starts and stops, the melody isn’t clear, the orchestration is playing tug of war with the singers for dominance, and it’s basically Alan Menken and the show’s creators ripping off Frozen. (I guess he’s kicking himself for leaving that particular project?)   But it’s interesting. I never heard anything quite like it. It’s memorable even if it doesn’t fully work. It’s got these interesting bits and pieces to it that just never quite comes together as a whole. Some of the lyrics are some of the best Glenn Slater has ever wrote and is far better than the story actually surrounding the song. Yet there’s other lines that are total cringe. Sometimes the song is bold and catchy and gets you all hyped up, and then other times its limp and staggering and feels so awkward to listen to.  Yet it’s not boring or generic and so I have to place it higher than the rest of the songs that’s come before. (Also, there’s some amazing orchestral covers out there that really pulls together the various parts really well, just fyi) 

14.  Nothing Left to Lose

I really don't like this song.  I’ve been one of its biggest critics ever since it was leaked by the marketing team earlier this year.  And yet... I can’t in good conscience place any lower on this list.  All of the problems I have with it are the exact same problems I have with Crossing the Line. It’s confused, the various pieces don't line up, the instrumentals are competing with the vocals, the song’s progression is weird with it’s constant key changes, some of the lyrics are good while others are absolute shit, ect and so forth.  It also actively works against the story it's trying to tell. The song wants you to sympathize with Cassandra, but her lines are as shallow as a puddle and makes her look like a sociopath. Especially when she’s physically attacking Varian through out for no reason. Also neither character learns anything from the exchange and it fails to impact the story.  By all accounts this is a bad song.  But I’m Varian trash.  There I said it. You happy?  Varian’s parts in the songs are fine, good even, and the song is anything but bland. I would rather listen to a mess then be bored to tears by a competent yet standard four chord pop song. 

13. I’d Give Anything

This song is nice to listen to. Story wise it absolutely sucks and shouldn’t have been in the finale at all. But it sounds pleasant.  This is one of those songs that could pop up randomly on the radio and I would just think it it a nice sad break up song. I can’t say that about some of the other misplaced songs in the show. This one however, you can very much, absolutely divorce this song from the narrative and it would be fine.  Now that’s not good writing, and it’s very much a waste of limited resources, but I’m rating the music here first and story second. 

12. Buddy Song

The Buddy Song also absolutely did not need to exist but it also sounds nice. Plus, it makes use of Lance so I’m a little more lenient towards it.   I can’t however place it higher since it really is just Alan Menken ripping off Alan Menken. Like, I would not be at all surprised to find out that this was originally a deleted song for Aladdin or something.  

11. Bigger Than That

What can I say, Lance just gets good songs. When the show bothers to give them to him.  Unfortunately, it’s not the best placed. It kind of interrupts the more important drama of Be Very Afraid, and probably should have been saved for a later episode. Especially since it hinges on a plot point that is contradictory to Lance’s character.    We should have gotten a Varian and Rapunzel duet here and given Lance his own episode in the second half of season three. This song could have easily been refitted into being a bonding moment for him and the girls. That would also have filled out the season’s original songs to the usual eight instead of only  seven.

10. Life After Happily Ever After

Now we’re getting to the good stuff. The top ten. The best of the best.  This song makes the cut for three reasons.  1. It lyrically and musically interesting 2. It does the job of furthering the story and the characters  and 3. Eugene’s part is so damn good.  Like this song could have easily fell down into the ranks of ‘fine but generic’ if it wasn’t for the bridge with Eugene. That puts it over the top and to my mind makes it better than anything from the OG film. (well almost anything, Mother Knows Best is still great)    This is the barometer by which I measure all of the music in the series. Is it better or worse than Life After Happily Ever After? Because this is the level that I equate good musicals with.  What keeps on the tenth spot and not higher is the dialogue that still left on the soundtrack and the lack of a Cassandra introduction. That and also the rest of the songs are just flat better. 

9. Hurt Incantation 

Hurt, Decay, Reverse, whatever you want to call it, this was such a cool fucking concept. One that was utterly wasted by the show.  I place this so high because it just sounds awesome! It looks good too, and it offered up so many possibilities from a story perspective.  What lets it down is the lack of follow up for it and it’s too short. There’s needed to be another verse. It also should have been on the actual soundtrack instead of  Hook Foot’s Ballad.  (The Heal Incantation also was sung in What the Hair, but I’m not counting it since it was written for the film) 

8.  The Girl Who Has Everything (Reprise)

I hate the initial song and the set up that it took to get here, but I love this reprise. It’s perfect. This is what the story needed more of. Rapunzel taking her life into her hands, and her proposing to Eugene would have been the perfect capstone for her arc.  In fact I’m angry we didn’t actually get that. There’s absolutely no reason why Rapunzel couldn’t have done so and we could have had her and Eugene engaged during the second half of season three. How much better would have it been if Cassandra threatened their wedding plans and that’s why they couldn’t go through with it until after the series ended? So much more tension that way. 

7. I Got This

This is a really good song that actually futhers the characters and the narrative. Moreover it’s refreshing to see the heroine not be perfect and to fail sometimes due to her own inadequacies. It’s just a shame that the series didn’t follow through with this set up, but I appreciate the attempt all the same.   

6.  Set Yourself Free

This is the only song in the series that’s an actual satisfying pay off for anything. Music wise it’s nothing too special, but in terms of context it just works. We were sorely deprived of such resolutions and songs with actual meaning in the show. 

5. View From Up Here

This song is too good for the episode it actually appears in. We needed something like this back in season one to introduce Cassandra with. It also sadly doesn’t fit with the wider narrative after season three. However I shall still appreciate it as a ‘what might have been’ type song. 

4.  Let Me Make You Proud 

The only reason why this song isn’t higher is just overexposure and I’ve no one to blame but myself for that. I’ve listened to this song way too many times. As such it tends to alternate between this, View from Up Here, and the next song on the list. But make no mistake it is glorious. Fantastic instrumentals, set up, and of course amazing vocals. 

3.  Everything I Ever Thought I Knew

Yes, I know this plot point didn’t lead anywhere, but it works for this song at least. Also Eugene’s VA is a really underrated singer. He sounds nice and he emotes really well.  Though I’ll be honest, this jumped up to third place because it was fresh in my mind after listening to the soundtrack before making this list. I’ve always liked the song and I do rate it highly, but it can change places with Let Me Make You Proud and View from Up Here at anytime depending on my mood. 

2.  Let Me Make You Proud (Reprise)

This song is heartbreaking!  Story wise it probably shouldn’t exist because it gives away the twist too soon, but who cares, it’s awesome!  Varian’s arc is the most compelling in the show and the only thing that saves TTS from falling into mediocre obscurity; and it’s songs like this that help make the arc stand out even more than it already does. 

1. Ready As I’ll Ever Be

I said it before and I’ll say it again; Ready As I’ll Ever Be is the greatest thing Alan Menken has ever written in his entire career!  If you know anything about the multiple award winning songwriter then you know that is no faint praise and I do not dole it out lightly.  This song is the reason why this show even has a fanbase. People are still getting into the series because of this song. And no matter how many times you listen to it just rocks!   It’s complex, layered, moody, and with a fantastic beat and energy. The performances are wonderful and the instrumentation glorious. It belongs in the hollows of Disney’s greatest hits and not regulated to a spin-off tv show that failed to make its money back.  I weep for the lost potential that this song and this show had. It hurts to know that so many people will never see this flash of brilliance that has come out of the House of Mouse, will never know the wonderfulness that is Varian.  Ah, ‘c'est la vie’, I suppose. Tangled the Series got what it deserved, but it's crew did not. While I can not in all honesty recommend the series in full; I do sincerely urge any Disney fan to check out the songs at the very least. Especially this one.  And that’s it. There’s my official ranking of all the songs, and I hope those of you read my Tangled reviews appreciate the hours it took into making this. 

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

Thoughts on The Last of Us Part 2

This critique is spoiler heavy, so tread with caution. I also talk about more than the game. However, non-spoiler opinions: (and again, I want to stress this is my opinion)

This game does not have the same DNA as the first last of us. That’s not a total strike against LOUP2. Yet the first game succeeded so well in creating a relatively simple road trip narrative that was rooted around character growth, with the provoking questions it raised comknf naturally. TLOUP2 revolves so heavily on the message it’s trying to send, that the character and narrative writings suffers to mold around the parable...which doesn’t fully even succeed in that regard. Environments and game play however are pretty solid, and if you liked those aspects of the first game, they outdid themselves here, so you’ll probably like this game’s go around. Does it make it worthwhile to play? That’s a case by case basis, but I have to say that exploring the world made me want to continue the game. And if anything, I’d say this game is a relatively easy platinum trophy to collect. And despite this very long critique where I really dive in, (because that is what I do, it’s in my nature.) I’m glad I played, because I had an enjoyable experience.

anyway, on with the nitty gritty. Please keep in mind that even as I seem harsh, I did not hate this game. Aspects of it pissed me off , and I think it’s broken in a lot of respects, but certainly not a failure of design, game build, and acting.

When I think of the perfect sequel, (and please, bare with me) Shrek 2 comes to mind. It expands the world in a meaningful way, introduces new characters that seamlessly fit in with the dynamic, lets the established characters have more growth without cheapening what happened in the first part, and stays true to the core DNA of the first film. I’m not saying that all sequels need to follow this formula, (I love Silent Hill 2) but The Last of Us 2 was not a fulfilling sequel in any of these regards. Joel and Ellie in the first game, as well as the other characters, felt like real people who made decisions that made sense for their characters. In this game, we have a clumsily patched together narrative that is simultaneously simple and yet far too much for it to handle. This is not a narrative-driven story, but a parable about the dangers of revenge. And while not a bad parable to tell, I could easily pick up Moby Dick or a myriad of other works that detail the “revenge is all consuming and unhealthy” narrative. Now, was LOU particularly new with it’s story? No. But the characters made it worthwhile and fresh. Additionally, the narrative of this game is so riddled with hypocrisy that the parable it’s trying to tell almost misses the mark.

Before further diving in, I also want to talk about one more detour as a preface: Game of Thrones season 8 (and please, bare with me again.) My biggest issue with season eight was how unearned everything was. Most egregiously and infamously, Dany and Jaime’s fates was not rooted in her past actions, therefore making their fates make sense, but rooted in the final outline Benioff and Weiss had. The writers had a plan, and they made the characters fit that plan no matter what, no matter that the characters had grown and changed and had arcs that didn’t make sense with the final plan, leaving a lot of people, including me, note how unearned everything was. LOU2 feels similar. Druckman had a plan, and he made the characters fit that plan, no matter how many gaps in logic there was, no matter how unearned it was. Joel dying the way he did was not very Joel-like as established in LOU. That man noticed an ambush right on sight as he was driving with Ellie into Pittsburgh, while this Joel walks right into an ambush and let’s himself be cornered by a group of unknown people. Maybe you can say that he got softer living in Jackson, or the storm gave no alternatives, but it reads to me as more as Druckman needed Joel to die to set off his plot.  

And with that, now’s a good time to talk about Abby, because rather than being an organic character that fits seamlessly into the narrative, she feels inelegantly shoved into the game to fit the message and parable. In the prologue we learn little about Abby and are forced to run away and learn about the game mechanics with her, and most players are here to continue Joel and Ellie’s story, so cutting away to this new character away from Ellie is intrusive. You as a player may have also have heard Druckmann say Ellie was the only playable character and purposely avoided the leaks, so you’re bamboozled as well. It gets worse after we shift to Abby for a good ten hours after Ellie kills Owen and Mel. We’re supposed to feel compelled to play as Abby for a ten hour needlessly complicated side quest when the game jarringly cuts to her...even though she mercilessly beat Joel with a golf club and just shot Jesse, who, IMO, is one of the most likable new characters (and also one of the many minority characters in the LOU franchise that serve as props to the main characters and ultimately meets a sad end, but that aspect of the game is worthy of a whole other post.) 

Playing as Abby for as long as you do at the halfway point is a tough and unearned pill to swallow, not helped by the fact that we know how this long extended flashback is going to end, so the stakes are never high. No matter what happens, Owen, Mel, Nora and Alice are going to die, and Abby is going to find Ellie. Furthermore, you’ve spent a long time as a player buffing Ellie with supplements, upgrading weapons, and using her arsenal. Suddenly, you have to rewire you’re playstyle and get used to new weapons. They’re not totally different, but I can see how going back to square one when you’re halfway through the game can put a player off really quickly. I read the leaks so I knew this was coming, but I had no clue how bloated this section would be with the meandering plot and WLF/ Seraphite conflicts that still somehow aren’t explained well enough. In Abby’s section, plot things and character development things go at such a hyper speed, with relationships developing mega quickly, that I had a hard time believing it, especially compared to the first game when relationships took time and were earned. I think the sex scene is a good metaphor for this section of the game as a whole. they talk, talk, talk about unrelated things, Abby pushes Owen, and then they randomly have sex. which by the way, was done pretty tastelessly in my opinion. ND could have just cut away when they started making out, or if you absolutely had to hold the frame, if you really had the actors to do that in mocap suits, maybe make the situation more morally grey...because it is morally grey. Owen has a baby on the way with another woman. What a way to endear these two characters. I’m not one who gets squeamish with sex in media, and I understand the game’s M rating has a warning. But when you cut away a love scene between two women before things get too heated, but have no problem with showing that, I’m going to raise some eyebrows. 

Abby’s section is like an overly complicated side quest in the larger narrative, with missions that have little to nothing to do with Ellie, so watching Abby’s story play out doesn’t feel like a meaningful look into the character and world we don’t get as Ellie, but an overtly complicated way ND created to get us to like Abby and invest us in her found family. But it took a whole game and about a full year for Ellie and Joel to be father and daughter, and by the end of Abby’s section we’re expected to believe she and Lev have that same bond. It’s so glaringly apparent that they were trying to mirror Ellie and Joel with Abby and Lev, but they banked so hard on us as the player assuming and understanding that aspect, that the development wasn’t cultivated well enough for me. I think more time was needed--especially since you don’t even meet Lev and Yara until you’re an hour or so into her story. Abby’s section feels like a whole other game was tacked on, and not a piece of the puzzle that neatly fits into the larger narrative.  In fact, both Lev and Yara feel like tacked on props to make Abby more likable. 

However, ND is inconsistent with this likability factor, because there are key elements to Abby’s writing that don’t make her endearing to the player. Unlike Ellie, who is visibly shaken with each kill, Abby displays no regrets whatsoever. She doesn’t have any qualms killing her fellow WLF soldiers later in the game, but more infuriating for players, she has no regrets about killing Joel. She does it, and she moves on. The game even seems to celebrate her, with some of her friends saying he deserved worse, despite the fact that  Ellie was on the floor crying and begging for her to stop. (BTW Mel is pretty hypocritical to me. At one point she says she regrets taking part in Joel’s murder, but during it, she wanted Ellie killed. Then later says Joel’s death was too brutal...even if he deserved worse? It’s just another thread of inconsistency in this game.) 

Abby not thinking things through when Ellie is crying on the floor before Joel’s murder is another example of characters making strange, if not outright bad decisions because Neil needs his plot. Abby could have put the pieces together, realized Joel wanted to save Ellie because clearly they care about each other, and yes he did a bad thing and killed her father, but if there’s a crying girl on the floor, maybe he did it because of love. (Or she could have just killed Tommy and Ellie because what’s stopping her from thinking they won’t want revenge like she does? But again, Druckmann needs his plot.) 

But no, Abby is merciless, and then suddenly in her POV chapters she’s pretty cool to Yara and Lev and wants to help them out. And yes, they saved her from death...but Joel saved her from death too. It could have been so interesting if Abby and Joel were forced to work together longer, maybe she meets Ellie, and then she’s conflicted about extracting revenge. But okay, fine. She takes her revenge and the game moves on. Okay. But Ellie, who I remind, is vilified and punished by losing Dina and the baby in the game, has regrets and is shaken up by her revengeful deeds, while Abby, who is also pretty bad, gets rewarded. If Druckmann wanted to really write a revenge parable, it needed to be clearer that revenge didn’t make Abby happy or fulfill her. If that would have happened, and if time was taken to develop the Lev and Yara subplot, it could have been interesting to see Abby’s story.

Ellie’s characterization in this game is a point of contention for me as well. Some reviewers have said she makes decisions that are so outlandish it’s akin to Dany in GOT season eight, and I don’t disagree. Now, the game implies Ellie continuously puts herself at risk, leaves her friends, and sets off on a near suicide mission because she has PTSD from what happened to Joel, along with a lot of guilt for not patching things up to him. Druckmann and Halley Gross even confirmed in an Indie Wire interview that Ellie has PTSD. Now, there are so many negative stereotypes against people with PTSD as outlined by Psychology Today and other sources. There’s misconceptions that they’re violent and dangerous, and it can’t be treated. I don’t think Druckmann was outright suggesting Ellie went on her rampage of revenge specifically because of this, in fact I think the truth of the matter is he wanted to say something deep and artsy with this game, and Ellie and Abby are props to the message. (Supported by pre release statements of ND saying they wouldn’t call this game fun--it’s art.) That being said, this equation doesn’t sit right with me. More broadly I don’t like the fact that Ellie has been a prop in this game so Druckmann can say something deep (tm) especially when the last game did such a good job molding her character and honoring her in an organic way as the plot moved forward. The way they used her here just didn’t feel right.

Also, like to mention Ellie didn’t go to Santa Barbara to meet Abby again until Tommy’s major guilt trip at the farm, which was a wildly out of character moment in itself. But again, in this game, there’s a script, and we needed a way to trigger Ellie’s journey to Santa Barbara. But looking at the first game, Tommy berates Joel for the lengths he went to to ensure their survival, even saying at one point “it wasn’t worth it.” Now Tommy is all of a sudden going to not take the high road and demand Ellie extract revenge when he can’t? Heck, when Abby had Tommy pinned to the ground in the theatre he told her to go and save herself. When tommy came to her after Joel’s death he actively tried to talk her out of going to Seattle. Now maybe you can say that “oh Abby shot Tommy and now he’s relationship with Maria is in shambles...” but it didn’t compute with me. (And damn, can anyone be in a happy romantic relationship in these games?) But again, Druckmann wants a final fight, where the biggest waste of opportunity is squandered. We could have had a moment where Ellie and Abby talk it out, maybe Ellie telling Abby that she cared for Joel despite what he did (though ho boy, more on that later.) and Abby realizing hmm, maybe what I did was kind of morally grey and we’re not so different at the least. If this parable was going to work, Abby had to have an epiphany about her own deeds in addition to Ellie, and Ellie can’t be vilified while Abby isn’t. 

This game also cheapens the last game’s ending. Joel’s morally grey choice at the end part one is rendered into an indisputably bad choice, because he took away Ellie’s choice. Are we forgetting the fireflies, and Jerry, Abby’s dad that we’re supposed to like, (based on the flashback, which, BTW didn’t work for me, I think Jerry’s an ass) weren’t giving Ellie a choice either? The ending of TLOU asked some fantastic questions about the nature of love without forcing it, and this game completely does away with that ending via telling us how bad Joel is and how he wronged Ellie. I can’t really replay the first game now without thinking of how the sequel cheapens that ending. Overall, the message and thought-provoking questions in LOU came naturally with Joel and Ellie’s development. It was elegantly done and expertly crafted. However, this game is so focused on it’s message and so focused on being an art house drama, that not only do the characters bend to fit the message, but it’s rudely it’s beaten over your head with the final shots of a lone guitar. However, playing through the game for me, seeing the cracks, the message fell flat. Want to tell a parable like this? Go ahead, but make sure it’s delivered well , paced well, and crafted well. I don’t think this game succeeded in any of those regards.

As others have stated, the game is needlessly dark, and though there are moments of calm and light, they are not as frequent as the first game, and all but dissolve toward the end of the story. Obviously ND couldn’t help the current situation of the world the game was released into, but I am tired of this trend of dark narratives and SuBerTing ExpECtatIons that Thrones also pulled, and the easiest, laziest tactic media has used lately to get people talking about their stories: doing things for shock value. Expectations were maybe subverted and there was definite shock value by having Joel die at the beginning, but the events that follow are so bizarre and unearned with Ellie’s vilification and Abby’s “redemption,” that I’m not mad that he died, I’m mad he was fridged to make way for this sloppy mess of a story.  And I have to point out that so many of us had a feeling Joel was going to die in this game, that frankly my expectations would have been subverted if he lived. 

Now with this segue, I think now I should probably mention the elephant in the room: the pre-release footage. Images were altered to make players believe Joel meets Ellie in Seattle, but we know now that it was Jesse. Sony was banking on the fact that fans of the first game love Ellie and Joel so much, that they used their relationship to sell the game and pretty much deceive the player. The fact that the game is very much not about Ellie and Joel’s further development is not only deceptive, but kind of cruel. Games are expensive. People pre-ordered this game expecting one thing and got another. Doesn’t sit right with me. If Sony/ ND had faith in Abby’s story the secrecy wouldn’t have been necessary, but keeping her out of the marketing save for one time, with Druckmann out right lying at one point by saying you only play as Ellie, it just proves that someone in the marketing department had no faith in Abby. Now, I think this is all rooted in anti-spoiler culture, and no doubt that had a big impact on this game and the marketing behind it. Though this is another, albeit related rant, I am tired of the current climate of “keeping the secrets and remaining spoiler free.” Sure, spoilers can ruin some surprise, and it’s not cool to needlessly spoil something for someone, but spoilers should not ruin the experience of seeing a story unfold. We all know the damn ship is going to sink in Titanic, and a lot of people love that movie. Heck. I played the first LOU completely spoiled. I wanted to see what the fuss was about and read the Wiki page. I still cried, I still fell in love. I get maybe wanting the player to be surprised that Abby has such a big section, or even that’s she’s playable, but when Abby’s story can make or break how you feel about this game, I raise some eyebrows at the marketing.  

As I said, I did read the leaks when they came out. Why? Well, I’m not averse to being spoiled and GOT kind of burned me before. I am glad I read the leaks because knowing what to expect certainly eased things for me, and got me used to playing as Abby in a way that going in blind wouldn’t have. It was easier for me to bunker down and accept playing as her, but her story is so needlessly bloated and has nothing to do with Ellie’s up until the end. Her section solely exists just to get the player to like her. As I outlined however, the fragments in her story are broken and don’t come together to form a flattering picture. Sure in her sections you get some, albeit, minimal context to the goings on of Ellie’s chapters and the whole WLF/ Seraphite conflict, but not much to make it interesting or illuminate things further. A lot of it was there just to make you feel like crap for the things you were forced to do as Ellie. Alice was a good girl wasn’t she? Shame on Ellie for killing her in self-defense! And I understand the flashbacks were supposed to mirror Ellie’s flashbacks, but part of me rolled my eyes as I realized I was enduring a damn flashback within a flashback. What kind of a meta world, and an uncool one at that, is the game in? (Heck at one point Abby said “fucking video games” so IDK) I think the game could have been better if you played both sections concurrently--some of Abby’s, some of Ellie’s instead of having an entire flashback to play through as Abby. But I can only guess the game did it this way because of good old spoiler culture and they only wanted early reviewers to talk about certain things. (Heck early reviews pre release had an embargo. Reviewers were forbidden from mentioning anything in the last half of the game.)And truth to be told I think Abby’s sections needed a huge overhaul. Actually I think the whole story of the game needed a huge overhaul, but that’s probably apparent from this long diatribe. However, I maintain that this was the Last of us sequel ND wanted to tell, the crafting needed to be improved.

So what did I like? Well, I liked exploring the world and I liked the ease of the beginning of the game, and...the boat section was kind of cool? now initially I thought Ellie’s romance with Dina seemed pretty rushed, but as you play the game, you realize they’ve known each other for a long time at this point, and it makes more sense. The two have a lot of chemistry that makes the relationship feel more authentic, especially as you roam Downtown Seattle. Playing as Ellie and exploring Seattle was my favorite parts of the game. I really liked the semi-open world section at the beginning, though it didn’t mesh well with the rest of the linear narrative. I hope in future games ND does do something similar and makes the whole game have pockets of open-world esque exploration throughout, and not just one part

I tore Abby’s section apart a lot, but there was also good stuff going on there too. I did Yara and Lev a lot, just wish there would have been more time to develop them. The hospital chapter was wild and fun...the most effective horror chapter in the game, with a big ass monster straight out of Resident Evil. Even if it was gross. And of course, the environments were downright breathtaking, and exploring Seattle made me want to continue. The Aquarium was my favorite location overall, as I found it beautifully rendered and a good focal point for the game. I also find it super fitting Abby and Ellie have their first fight in a theatre. It’s almost like Druckmann’s trying to make a point about how violence is a commodity...kind of like us playing this really violent game and they’re using violence to sell it to you, even though the game punishes you for doing actions you have no say in.

I may have been a tiny bit sarcastic there, but I did enjoy the Ellie/Abby fight, and even if I knew the outcome, it did a great job of putting me on edge. I really didn’t want to hurt Ellie, but seeing how Ellie fights from the other angle was pretty interesting. After that fight however it was pretty draggy to have to do it again in Santa Barbara as Ellie. On a related note, there were too many brawls like that in the game. You have no weapons, just fist brawls twice with cult randos as Abby and then two with Ellie and Abby in the game. Could have trimmed those down, because they kind of wore out their welcome. And while we’re at it, good grief the ending DRAGGED. Maybe that was done on purpose to prove the lengths Ellie will go, but I wasn’t a fan.

Look, a part of me can kind of appreciate what ND was trying to do with this game, I just think that the execution was poor, and a lot of small specifics of things that happened in the game were done in poor taste. Pieces of the puzzle didn’t fit a cohesive whole, and the message is pretty grim and broken because of hypocrisies in the narratives. A lot of people are saying its an apocalypse game, of course it’s going to be dark and nihilistic, but the first game wasn’t nihilistic. It was hopeful, and benefited from the simple story it told. Druckmann always said Part 2 would be a hate story, and that’s fine, but I think it was just so committed to that idea the game suffered and became manipulative. I think now we’re now entering a debate about “can video games be art and have messages?” or “should video games just be fun?” and I really think video games can be art. However, there has to be something in the game that makes you want to continue, and that something is usually “fun.” Video games aren’t like movies. We’re not voyeurs that watch. We’re actually in control of the characters. That has an impact. 

if you read all of this, I commend you. thanks! Really needed to pound out all my thoughts and now I can (hopefully) move on with my life.

[pendingproductivity]

2020 READING RECAP!

This year sucked ass in so many ways, but it might be the best year of reading I’ve ever had. I discovered so many new favorites, revisited some old favorites, and even read a few books multiple times. In this post, I’ve listed my top five favorite books from this year in the order that I read them because I don’t think I could possibly rank them against each other. They have all become some of my favorite books of all time. I’ve also included a few honorable mentions which are ranked with my favorite listed first. And lastly, I have two notable rereads of some old favorites. I also added links to each book on goodreads and bookshop so you can easily add anything to your tbr or buy it! This is going to be a long one, so buckle up. Without further ado, here is an overview of the books I read in 2020!

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s t a t s :

reading goal: 30

total books read: 31

new (to me) books read: 22

average rating: 4.2/5 stars

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t o p   f i v e   f a v o r i t e s : 

Beartown and Us Against You by Fredrik Backman

(Yes, I know I’m kind of cheating by counting this as one book but just roll with me here) Beartown takes place in a tiny community in rural Sweden which is defined by their hockey club. When the junior hockey team has a chance at winning the national championships, the entire town throws their full support behind them. The burden of the pride of their community rests on the shoulders of a handful of teenage boys. For one, the pressure boils over and he commits an act of violence that leaves a young girl traumatized, and the entire community divided. 

Late one evening toward the end of March, a teenager picked up a double-barreled shotgun, walked into the forest, put the gun to someone else's forehead, and pulled the trigger.

This is the story of how we got there.

These two books were downright spectacular. Over the course of this year, I’ve completely fallen in love with Backman’s writing style (we love a good onomatopoeia) but more than anything else I just adore his characters. Each one is multidimensional, and even the most infuriating residents of Beartown have their redeeming qualities. I also love the attention he gives to even the side characters whose motivations shape the story even if they only appear for a few scenes. These are stories about right and wrong, courage and fear, and most of all, humanity itself. I laughed and cried and felt more emotions than I thought was possible. Beartown was amazing, but I actually thought that the sequel, Us Against You, somehow surpassed it, so make sure to read both!! (TW: rape/sexual assault)

goodreads - bookshop (Beartown)   goodreads - bookshop (UAY) 

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When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi

Paul Kalanithi was thirty-six years old and on the verge of completing a decade’s worth of training to become a neurosurgeon when he was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. His memoir, When Breath Becomes Air, follows his journey from being a naïve medical student, to a brilliant neurosurgeon at Stanford, to being a cancer patient and a new father confronting his own mortality.  

I began to realize that coming in such close contact with my own mortality had changed both nothing and everything. Before my cancer was diagnosed, I knew that someday I would die, but I didn’t know when. After the diagnosis, I knew that someday I would die, but I didn’t know when. But now I knew it acutely. The problem wasn’t really a scientific one. The fact of death is unsettling. Yet there is no other way to live.

This memoir caught me completely by surprise. It was assigned reading for an English class and I wasn’t expecting to enjoy it let alone completely reevaluate my perception of the world around me because of it. Kalanithi discusses learning, medicine, life, and death as he seeks to answer the age-old question, “What makes life worth living?” and the unique perspectives that he offered fascinated me. When Breath Becomes Air is an unfinished manuscript, since Kalanithi died in 2015, but the epilogue written by his wife might just be the best part of the whole book. To tell you that I was sobbing while reading it would be an understatement. The reason why this book made this list is because I finished it in March, but I still think about it relatively often. When Breath Becomes Air has left a lasting impact on my life, and I highly recommend it!

goodreads - bookshop

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The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Evelyn Hugo was a Hollywood legend, but after her sudden departure from show business in the late 80s, she completely fell out of the public gaze. Now she is finally ready to tell the true story about her scandalous and glamorous life and she has specifically chosen Monique Grant, a virtually unknown magazine reporter, for the job. For Monique this exclusive is the opportunity of a lifetime. Evelyn tells her story of ambition, friendship, love, and of course each of her seven husbands. However, it becomes evident that Evelyn’s life has intersected with Monique’s own in tragic and irreversible ways.

It’s always been fascinating to me how things can be simultaneously true and false, how people can be good and bad all in one, how someone can love you in a way that is beautifully selfless while serving themselves ruthlessly.

This. Book. It was absolutely captivating. I’m honestly not even sure what to say here without giving too much away. The plot is truly a wild ride as Evelyn leads Monique through the story of her life. There are so many twists and turns: some that I saw coming and others that completely blindsided me. And that not even to mention Evelyn Hugo herself who is one of the strongest, smartest, most compassionate and deeply flawed characters I’ve ever read about. All the characters were complex and layered, but she was really something else. There were so so many emotions and so many tears and I really don’t know what else to say. I’m begging you to read this book; it will blow your mind.

goodreads - bookshop

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A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman

Ove is a curmudgeon whose life is turned upside down when a young, vivacious family moves in next door. That’s it. That’s the synopsis.

Death is a strange thing. People live their whole lives as if it does not exist, and yet it's often one of the great motivations for living. Some of us, in time, become so conscious of it that we live harder, more obstinately, with more fury. Some need its constant presence to even be aware of its antithesis. Others become so preoccupied with it that they go into the waiting room long before it has announced its arrival. We fear it, yet most of us fear more than anything that it may take someone other than ourselves. For the greatest fear of death is always that it will pass us by. And leave us there alone.

You’ve seen the Pixar movie: grumpy old man meets young person who shows him life is worth living and they become buds etc. etc. Sure, you could essentially boil down A Man Called Ove to that simple plotline but it is so much more than that. It’s heartbreaking and hopeful and you’ll laugh and cry while reading it. This was the most wholesome story I had read in a long time, and I thoroughly enjoyed every last bit of it. I’ve already explained my love of Backman’s unique writing style, but this novel in particular does a beautiful job of tackling deep themes such as grief and purpose with a generous serving of humor. I also just adored the ending. While this book isn’t at all fluffy or entirely lighthearted, it gave me all of he warm fuzzy feelings I was craving. I cannot possibly recommend it enough!

goodreads - bookshop

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Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen 

Elizabeth Bennet and her four sisters must find wealthy husbands because upon their father’s death, the entirety of his estate will be passed on to a male cousin, leaving them penniless. Conveniently, a wealthy gentleman called Mr. Bingley moves into the neighborhood, bringing along his even wealthier although most unpleasant friend, Mr. Darcy. 

Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.

I definitely didn’t think that I was going to enjoy this book nearly as much as I did. The story truly is timeless, and I absolutely adored Elizabeth and Darcy. The biggest surprise I had while reading is that the humor is still funny today and of course Lizzy is fucking hilarious. She is confident, principled, and more than happy to roast the shit out of anyone who deserves it. And then there’s the matter of Mr. Darcy being so sweet and kind (after he stops being an asshole of course) and greatly contributing to the unattainable standards I have for men. It was also nice to have a socially awkward male lead, and in many ways I related more to him than to Lizzy. This book is everything I want from a romance novel plus class criticism and feminism and Elizabeth being an absolute badass. Enemies to lovers is my all time favorite romance trope and I loved reading one of the OGs. Also, I’d just like to add that Mary is the most underappreciated character of the whole novel because she’s really just trying her best. Mostly I was just completely impressed with how this novel has withstood the test of time and it has become one of my favorite classics! Please please give this book a chance even if you don’t typically enjoy classic novels!!

goodreads - bookshop - barnes&noble (this is the edition I have and it’s just so gorgeous I had to include it!)

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h o n o r a b l e   m e n t i o n s :

The Martian by Andy Weir

Mark Watney is one of the first people to ever walk on Mars, and now it seems like he’ll be the fist person to die there. A raging dust storm forced his crew to evacuate without him and he finds himself alone on the red planet with the entire world believing him to be dead. This book just barely missed being one of my top five of the year, but it was absolutely amazing. I love reading about people finding clever solutions to problems and that is basically what this entire story is. I maybe understood half of the technical science jargon if I’m being generous, but the story is plenty enjoyable even without extensive scientific knowledge. I adore Mark’s wit and mindset, and I loved watching him wriggle his way out of impossible situations with the odds completely stacked against him. The Martian is a story of perseverance and humanity, but it’s also absolutely hilarious. I highly recommend this one if you haven’t picked it up!!

goodreads - bookshop

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Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

Shaker-Heights appears to be the perfect place to raise a family. It’s progressive, has low crime rates and is all around an idyllic bubble. This all begins to change when a single mother and her daughter move into town with a disregard for the status quo, and a custody battle erupts, dividing the community. This was a great book that ended up being surprisingly thought provoking, and I particularly enjoyed the novel’s criticism of liberal idealism. The story itself was entertaining and I think it’s definitely worth a read! 

goodreads - bookshop

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Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

Alex Claremont-Diaz is the first son of the United States who finds himself intertwined in a damage control PR stunt with his sworn nemesis, Prince Henry. They have to pretend to be best friends to ensure that their confrontation at the royal wedding doesn’t get in the way of American/British relations. I’m sure you can guess where this is going. This is totally a feel-good love story, but it also finds the time to tackle real issues surrounding politics and societal expectations. I loved this book so much that I read it twice this year (the second time because I was so stressed about the election and I needed to distract myself with the fictional 2020 election that takes place in the novel) and also I’m just a sucker for enemies to lovers. (sidenote: the turkey catastrophe is one of the greatest scenes in literary history and you cannot convince me otherwise) 100% would recommend!

goodreads - bookshop

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n o t a b l e   r e r e a d s :

The Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling

The Jim Dale audiobooks are my ultimate self-care tool when I’m stressed or sad; I just find them to be so comforting and I can’t explain why. Because of this I probably listen to at least one of the books every year, but it’s usually just whichever one I happen to be in the mood for. But it’s been so long since I’ve listened through the entire series, and this year seemed to be the perfect time to do so! 

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Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell

This used to be my favorite book of all time. I’m pretty sure I first read it in sixth or seventh grade and I’ve reread it so many times since. I’ve been planning on rereading this book my first year of university for such a long time, and the time finally came! The book especially hit hard this semester because Cath feels disconnected from everyone at school because she doesn’t want to go to parties or make much of an effort to find friends, and because of COVID, I ended up in almost the exact same situation, (except unfortunately my roommate doesn’t have a cute ex-boyfriend who hangs out in our room). This was definitely another comfort read like the HP audiobooks and it made me feel a bit better about being stuck in my dorm room. 

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If you actually made it to the end of all that, wow, you’re a real one. I hope you got a few new book recs out of this! If you want to see the thirteen other books I read this year, you can check out my 2020 reading challenge. I read so many amazing books this year I had  hard time narrowing down my favorites, so there are still plenty more great reads that aren’t included in this post. If for some reason you feel like keeping up with the books I read in 2021, follow my goodreads account for dramatic and ranty book reviews. Happy New Year, and here’s to 2021 being full of wonderful books!

[venusofthehardsells]

Claimed [Moon Blood part 2]

ReaderxVampire!Steve RogersxVampire!Bucky Barnes

Summery: The reader is a human held against her will at a facility doing research on vampires. Her first task as a “donor” is to let the vampire Steve Rogers drink of her blood, but Steve prefers to share his meals. Warnings: Noncon (forced consent), bit of violence, your typical vampire stuff A/N: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS, this is NOT for everyone! Most of this is obviously shamelessly stolen from the plot of True Blood and was originally intended as a one-shot, but I decided to continue the story and am so far writing and planing for it to be 3 parts when finished. Phew. This took a month longer than anticipated and I am so sorry. Life is a bitch sometimes. I struggled like crazy to get this chapter out, but I really hope the next one will be easier. This part focuses mainly on Bucky, hope it doesn’t disappoint. Enjoy! ~ Part 1 _____ The door to the cell they wanted you to call a dormitory slid open with an almost inaudible whoosh, but every single donor in the room woke up anyway. You opened your eyes, but didn’t dare move just yet. In the fluorescent light from the doorway, you could see two guards dragging a girl inside. They left her in a heap more or less in the middle of the floor, before turning around and leaving without a word. The door slid shut again and cast everything in darkness once more. You were out of your bed and next to the girl as soon as the guards were gone. She was whimpering under her breath as if trying to stay quiet and failing. You recognised her as Number 21; earlier today, she had been called to the science department and hadn’t returned for dinner. You had feared the worst when she also failed to show up for the mandatory evening grooming. Of the thirty people originally in your donor group, only 17 remained. “It’s alright. It’s over,” one of the others whispered to her. Your eyes were starting to get used to the lack of light again and you could tell that her formerly white robe was stained all over. It wasn’t hard to guess with what. When two of the boys helped her to her feet, her legs wouldn’t hold her up and she whined in pain. In the end, they had to carry her to her bed and you fluffed her pillow for her while Number 16 tried to make her lie comfortably. “What happened?,” she asked quietly, as if someone might still be inexplicably asleep. Number 21 was sobbing outright now. “Don’t beg,” she managed weakly. “No matter what they do, don’t ask them to stop. Don’t… break. Don’t give them any reason to… to shoot you. They need the corpses too.”

No one in your group slept for more than a few hours that night. You were tense and on edge when you went to the small waiting room after lunch, having spent the morning being prettied again. One of the overseers had made a harsh comment about the dark circles by your eyes before they had been covered up and it had only made you even more uneasy. Number 21 looked ashen in the artificial daylight. It had taken them a long time to cover the bruising on her hips and marks on her face and inner thighs. Her bloodied robe had been switched to a new one during your shower, as had her bedding. Except for the grey pallor of her skin, she was just as beautiful as always. You wondered if by the end of the day you would still be as pretty as you were now. The two little puncture wounds on your neck were little more than needle marks; you couldn’t even feel them. Steve really had been careful. The sound of someone turning the speaker on somewhere in the facility made you close your eyes hard. Not me, not again, please… “Donor 29, please proceed to the hallway. You will be escorted to the science wing shortly. I repeat, Donor 29, please proceed to the hallway…” It took everything you had and then some not to empty your stomach out onto the floor. The others looked surprised to see you be chosen again already. Normally, the donors got a day or two between sessions to recover, unless… It was as if your breath wouldn’t go deep enough. The air in the room seemed to shrink away from you, until you were shaking all over and Number 21 had to put her arms around you to help keep you on your feet. Her eyes were bursting with tears for you. She supported you to the door, but once you were out in the hallway and away from the other donors, it felt as if the walls began to close in. Your lungs were burning. By the time a pair of armed guards arrived and asked you to follow by poking you with the barrel of a gun, you were heaving for breath and only barely stumbling along the corridor. “Keep up,” one of them sneered. It was hard to see through all of his gear, but there was no doubt in your mind that he was scowling at you as if you had killed his best friend with a blunt knife. You forced yourself to focus on putting one foot in front of the other and not think of anything else until they stopped in front of a security door with a retinal scanner and a silicone code pad. One of the guards removed his goggles and stood in front of the scanner to let it recognise his eye, then punched in a code on the pad. The other guard shoved you inside another corridor in what you guessed must be the science wing. The very air here seemed laced with sterile, antiseptic dread. You were sure you heard a scream somewhere far off. “Move.” They marched you through another two security points, before stopping in front of a lift. One of them kept a bruising grip around your upper arm now. The physical pain kept you grounded in your body as the lift ascended several levels and let you out with a crisp little ding. It was the only thing you felt for another brief minute as you were led through a laboratory and into a tiny closet-like room only barely big enough for the three of you to stand in. “Lose the robe.” You pressed your teeth so hard together your entire skull hurt with it. The pain made it easier to keep your fingers steady as you slowly loosened the fluffy belt and let the shield of the white bathrobe fall away. The guards took it and chucked it out of reach before it had even hit the ground. The nearest one shoved you through yet another reinforced doorway. Your knees hit the white tile floor of a circular room with walls two stories high. There was nothing in there beside a mattress across from you and the vampire restlessly lying on it. His long, brown hair lay tousled around his face like a soft halo and he was not wearing the standard hospital pyjamas the compound vampires were normally found in. Instead, his enhanced physique was completely on display, from the high slopes of his biceps slung across his broad chest to the stark lines of his hips. He might as well have been cut in marble. James. He was on his feet and by your side the moment the door slid shut behind you. “Darling?” You let out the tiniest of whines and folded your arms tightly around yourself. It did nothing to help with the way your entire body was shuddering in fear. Yesterday, you had been a donor in a monitored, controlled environment and the pleasure James had wrought from you had been for his own benefit. But everything was different now. For all you knew, he could be about to kill you. Perhaps these people wanted to study how a vampire tore its prey apart or learn how much blood it could drink without bursting or something equally sinister. James’ hand on your shoulder made you blanch. “Shh, darling, s’gonna be alright,” he mumbled almost lovingly into your hair, his lips moving against the very crown of your head. How do you know?, you wanted to yell at him, but somehow you couldn’t gather enough air in your lungs to get a single sound out. He kept whispering soothing little reassurances, until the scramble of a speaker being turned on made both of you start and look around. “…begin now that everyone’s here. Copulation study 015, male vampire, female human. For this study we have Subject 66, James Barnes and Donor 29, individual file to be attached by assigned warden at a later date. Both participants have been adequately tested prior to this study…” The voice went on and on about who would be observing, what you had eaten and when, the air temperature in the room, and about a thousand other details you couldn’t focus properly on. You weren’t sure you wouldn’t get sick as the truth of what was about to happen slowly sunk in. When you had been brought to the facility in the first place, you had thought that the extensive medical tests had only been to scare and humiliate the donors further. It had not occurred to you until now that the nightmarish gynaecological examination you had endured upon your arrival actually served a purpose. “Subjects, please proceed.” It was with unmasked terror that you met James’ sea-grey eyes. They were wide with shock, and pitying as they took in your frightened state. “Don’t worry, doll, ‘m not gonna do anything,” James mumbled against your forehead and got up to face the wall. You assumed he could hear people on the other side of it. “Do you hear that? I’m not gonna do it!,” he hissed, baring his fangs. “I’m not a fucking rapist, I’m not gonna fuck her for your stupid pseudo-science shit.” He was met with silence. After a while when nothing happened, you dared to lift your head and look at James. That was when the beam hit him. Without warning, a small round hole somewhere in the ceiling far above you opened and a ray of concentrated sunlight flared down into the room, hitting James square in the back. He let out a shrill wail and stumbled into the wall. The sun had only shone on his skin for half a heartbeat, but he was already branded with a circle of angry, red burns. Your eyes barely had time to adjust before another streak of the garish light of day shone onto the back of his shin, scorching, burning… He collapsed on all fours with a pained groan. Your stomach tied itself into a hard little knot of agonising, infuriating compassion. You didn’t want to feel sorry for him, things were bad enough for yourself already. “First warning, subject 66. Proceed.” “No…,” James managed, heaving. “I’m not doing it.” The floor under his face was stained, you noticed. Dark red little spots flecking the sickeningly immaculate tiles. Blood. James was crying. The ray of light came down on his back again. The howl of pain that left him made your throat constrict painfully and without thinking further, you threw yourself over him. This time, the second beam was aimed at the back of James’ shoulder, but you pushed him down against the wall to better cover him with your body that suddenly felt all too inadequate. “Final warning, subject 66. Proceed.” You had to do something. Panic was making you blind and you had to take several calming breaths to calm down enough to think. If they killed James, what kind of man would they replace him with? Would they even bother? The words of Number 21’s warning rang in your head. They need corpses too. With a heavy heart that beat too fast for its own good you took both of James’ hands and helped him onto his feet. Then you led him to the mattress. James’s face was full of bloody tears and the way he looked at you when you sat down made you think of a kicked puppy. “But I don’t wanna hurt you, darling,” he whispered devastated as you lay down and took a deep breath, trying to brace yourself. He knelt carefully next to you. The burns were already healing, but it was clear by the way he tightened his jaw with the movement that the pain lingered on. He softly caressed your cheek. His touch was so tender, as if you might actually break beneath his fingers like a fair little china doll. It made you think of the way his tongue had coaxed pleasure out of you the day before. How he had lapped and sucked and licked you over the edge of delight when he could have easily been rough and unfeeling. You reached up and cupped his face, willing your hands not to shake so damn much, but James felt it anyway and he certainly saw the way your eyes betrayed you by filling up with tears. With as much determination you could muster, you gave him a small, quaky nod. “You don’t mean that,” he said softly and you wanted to scream at him that it didn’t matter, that if he didn’t stop being so noble both of you would end up dead. And James was so much stronger than you. Even if he hadn’t been a vampire his body was still rippled with muscle and so your attempt to drag him down towards you was much like moving a human sized statue. Your arms around his shoulders did nothing to bring him closer, so instead you opted to lift yourself into his arms by using his cold unmoving body as leverage. His long hair tickled your face as you leaned in and brushed your lips against his ear. “Please…,” you managed so quietly that for a moment you doubted any sound had left you at all. The delicate little shape of the word in your exhale made him frown. “If… If we don’t do this…,” he whispered, understanding finally beginning to dawn in his eyes, “they’ll hurt you too?” You gave him another slow nod and he bit his lip, searching your face with those big beautiful eyes of his that made you think of rainy autumn skies over endless, rocky seashores in the north. “Will it be worse than this?” The answer was vividly painted in the lines your tears drew down your cheeks. He swore and gently eased the two of you onto the supple foam of the mattress, keeping the full weight of his god-like stature off you. With light, repetitive motions, he began running his fingers through your hair. He placed one loving kiss on each of your cheeks before leaning down and touching his lips to yours. Slow and light at first, then steadily with more and more passion, until he was devouring your mouth with the hungry devotion of a wavering believer being shown the face of god. You had never been kissed like this before. His full, pink lips were insatiable against yours. He took his time savouring you until your lips were raw and swollen and warm, never rushing, never pushing and you knew why. You were dry and he was big. Even like this, he still didn’t want to hurt you. Somehow the thought made your stomach tingle. You reached into his hair and let your fingers gently tangle into his soft, brown locks. James sucked on your bottom lip, tentatively asking permission and you let out a sigh, allowing his tongue to trail into your mouth with the same care it had shown your cunt yesterday. Every little lick made your nerve-endings sing. He tasted of salt and copper. Alive-like. Almost human. You were out of breath when James drew back to rest his forehead on yours. “You don’t deserve this…,” he murmured so quietly you weren’t sure you were supposed to hear it. He brushed the tip of his nose over your cheekbone, slowly moving to the shell of your ear. His entire body was pressed flush against yours now and he wiggled a little to make you give him more space to lie between your thighs. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m so sorry…” A winded gasp left you when James’ mouth latched onto the column of your neck and he began sucking a mark into your skin. His fangs grazed you and you braced yourself for the bite, but it never came. Instead he dragged his perfect cupid’s bow down your throat, the stubble of his sharply trimmed beard tickling you in its wake. You never wanted him to stop adorning your body with his kisses. “Try and relax, yeah?,” James whispered without ever lifting his lips off you. One of his hands moved from your hair and down to grasp at your breast. He squeezed greedily and began rolling his thumb over your nipple, teasing it into a hard little peak before moving over to bestow the same attention on your other one. “Imagine you’re somewhere else. Somewhere nice… Keep your eyes closed, doll. Just dream, okay? ‘S just you and me.” His low voice made the blood flow twice as fast through your veins and you ran your fingertips down the exquisite firmness of his upper arms, sensing the warmth rising in him too. With your eyes tightly shut, you could almost fool yourself into believing that you were lying on fresh, clean cotton sheets in a cabin somewhere in the Greek archipelago. That James, kind, loving, devastatingly handsome James was there with you in the sunlight, smiling and laughing, still wearing the scent of the fresh Aegean waves as he put his sun-kissed arms around you… It was impossible to keep the sound of a contented moan back when one of his hands slid between you and skimmed over your clit. “That’s it, darling,” he cooed when another light flick of his fingers made you arch your back off the mattress. “It’s all gonna be fine, ’m gonna take so good care of you, let me take care of you…” The way he said it, almost desperate, made your heart do a backwards somersault in your chest. One of his fingers slowly began gliding along your folds. His mouth found yours again with no less fervour as he spread your sparse wetness on his finger. You knew it wouldn’t be enough. He felt so good, but you were still too nervous and the more you thought about it, the worse it got. “Just gonna take it real slow, doll,” James mumbled into your mouth and pulled at your nipple with the hand not tracing your cunt. It made you hiss in surprise, but the warm buzz the motion set off in you shot right down between your legs and almost immediately made it easier for James. “We’ve got all the time in the world…” He put pressure on your clit with the top of his palm, making your hips buck into his hand of their own account. He did it again and again while his fingers still leisurely traced the lips of your cunt, getting acquainted with every little fibre of your skin. When he finally slid his middle finger into you, you tensed up around him and he stopped moving. Instead, he kissed his way from your lips across your cheek to the very top of your jaw and the soft skin beneath your ear. He continued down your neck until he found a spot that made your breath hitch and sucked hard on it, and then teasingly nibbled at it with his front teeth. The action sent a shudder of pleasure though you that made you move into James’ hand again. He crooked his finger ever so slightly, quickly swallowing your moan between his beautiful soft lips. The way he moved his hand between your legs was slow and deliberate, gently stroking your walls with small come-hither motions until you were wet enough for him to begin thrusting his finger in and out of your hole, shallow at first to help you adjust, until he could push it in with ease. “Deep breath, doll,” he whispered, placing another kiss on your swollen lips. His long hair brushed over your closed eyelids as he moved his head down to your breasts again, lavishing them in open-mouthed kisses. James worked another finger into you, stretching you more than your own fingers had ever managed. “Just relax. Think ‘bout yesterday, how good that felt.” Sweet, velvety words kept falling from his lips and onto your skin in a never-ending stream, while he set a steady pace between your legs that made a string of little moans pile up in your throat, but it was never enough to tip you over pleasure’s edge that at last felt within reach. “Good girl, you’re doing so good.” The praise landed on your collarbone, quickly followed by his tongue and his teeth, but not his fangs. You pressed down on his head a little, arching your throat up to let him know you didn’t mind, that he could take his blood from you if he wanted, but James drew back from you at the pressure and you opened your eyes. Had you done something wrong? “’M sorry, darling.” He shook his head with an almost woeful little smirk and sank his fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt, hitting every right spot inside of you. Your legs immediately came together around his hand, your hips once again moving you right into his palm. “I can’t drink from you. Wish I could, gods, I swear I thought these thighs were the gates of heaven.” James leant down and placed an almost chaste kiss just above your trembling knee. “But Steve claimed you, yesterday when we got back. Did it ‘n front of everyone. Can’t drink from someone who’s been claimed ‘nless you’re given permission. It’s our law, darling. He did it to protect you.” Another kiss, harder and higher up your thigh. Your breath caught at the thought of having his mouth, that sinful, perfect mouth just a little bit closer… You jolted against him when he started to move his hand faster and added a third finger. Just then, he bowed his head the rest of the way and flattened his tongue against your clit. Hard. It sent a shock through you that made the heat flare up in your lower body, hotter, hotter, until it felt as if your very skin was about to erupt. James was relentless now and within seconds, you were nothing but a shuddering mess at his mercy. Another firm lick and you dug your fingers into his shoulders to try to steady yourself. One more and you knew you were done for. He dragged his tongue against your little bundle of nerves again. Your entire body convulsed beneath him as the searing heat finally burst and you came with a breathy moan, clenching around the digits still inside of you, whining, whimpering, while James kept pumping his fingers to milk you of every single drop of pleasure he could. “Damn, doll, you’re pretty as a picture when you cum.”

James leaned back up and placed the deepest, filthiest kiss on your gasping mouth until the only things your mind could hold were the insistent press of his tongue against yours and the taste of yourself, sweat, cum, flesh, blood… “Gotta do it for me again,” he whispered as he slowly withdrew his fingers and began spreading your juices along his cock, stroking himself to full hardness with much less grace than he had handled you with so far. “’S gonna feel even better this time, I promise. Just remember what I told you, doll. I’ll be so good to you.” He lined himself up with your entrance and an involuntary tremor ran through you when he brushed your over-sensitive clit, before slowly easing the head of his cock in between your folds. You closed your eyes again and dug your nails into his biceps, fighting to get your muscles to cooperate and accommodate his girth. If only he hadn’t been so bloody thick. Your walls clung to his length as he gradually pushed himself into you, stretching you in places you had never felt with your fingers. A short, little cry of pain escaped you before you could prevent it and James immediately stopped moving. Only halfway in and you already felt as though you were being torn in half. “Oh, gods, you’re tight, darling… ‘m sorry, fuck, I’m sorry…” To your horror, he started to pull away, his beautiful blue eyes red with tears. The thought of what they might do to him if he refused again… Ignoring the pain in your lower body and the stiffness in your thighs, you folded your legs around his waist and forced him closer with all your meagre strength. James clearly hadn’t expected it. He gasped as you took him in to the hilt and you could guess by the way his nostrils flared and the stinging hurt that shot through your abdomen, that he had ripped something. He looked utterly crushed at the realisation, but also on the brink of losing his control. His words were thick with desire when he spoke. “Holy hell, doll, darling, you’re squeezing me so tight… Gotta let up a little, yeah? ‘m not gonna move ‘ntil you do.” He kissed your cheeks clean of tears that had sprung to your eyes from the abrupt pain of having him in you and his hands found the small of your back, brushing his thumbs over your hips in simple patterns. You took a breath as deep as you could and let it out in a shaky exhale against his ear. His cock twitched inside of you and you moaned softly at the unexpected sensation. A tentative heat was beginning to spread in your body like boiling water running through your bones, little by little turning the soreness into comfort and on into the beginnings of pleasure as it coursed beneath your skin from where his fingertips touched you. “That’s it, nice ‘n easy, doll. Fuck, you feel divine.” James offered you a smile that made the world fall away around you. The warmth from his touch and the hardness of his length inside your core made you feel light and tingly all over. There was something about the way he held you, looked at you that had you wishing it would never change. It didn’t matter that it had hurt at first. As he dipped down for another lasting taste of your lips, you brought your hands up to cup his face, that stunning, god-like face and imagined once again that you were lovers hiding away on a Mediterranean island far away from the rest of the world, spending your days in bed or in the sea… James carefully rolled his hips against you once and it felt as if a jolt of hot electricity shot through you from where you were conjoined, releasing a sound that had been stuck in your throat since his initial intrusion. This time however, it came out as a moan rather than a cry and James lifted his head, hesitating, the pale blue of his eyes searching your face for reassurance that he could continue. It was your turn to bring your lips to his and lick your way into his mouth. You moved your hips up to meet his, already craving that sizzling feeling back. You felt stretched, but it was nothing compared to the pleasant burn aching in you now. You needed more. He was only eager to comply. The first thrust was slow and it hurt, but the friction of it felt so intense it nearly drowned any discomfort out and exchanged it for pleasure. The second one went easier. The way his cock brushed against your walls made you feel utterly lightheaded and you lost control of your kiss, letting him plunge his tongue back into your open mouth and languidly drag it over yours in a sloppy caress. The third and fourth thrusts of his hips had you arching your back off the mattress. By the fifth, you lost count. You lost your breath as well and any sense of time and place and self as James set a steady rhythm that deliberately spurred you to the peripheries of madness. There was nothing but your flesh grinding against his and the heat gathering between your bodies, simmering, flaring as he pushed into you over and over and over… And it was glorious. Heavenly. But not enough. His hands easily guided your movements to match his own, as if you weighed nothing. The friction was at the same time delicious and excruciating. You never wanted him to stop, just to go faster. Each stroke of his cock rubbing just the right spot inside of you, feeding the flame growing in your lower body, had you whimpering for more. Pure desperation made you sneak your hand down between your bodies to massage your clit, but James caught your wrist and pinned it to the mattress next to your head with one hand, before quickly trapping the other one as well. “I’ll take care of it, darling,” he assured you in a breathy whisper. He proceeded to speed up the pace of his thrusts. His pelvis was slick with your juices, you noticed, but you didn’t have time to feel embarrassed about it as your body began to tremble of its own accord, chasing that second orgasm he kept just out of your reach. When the heat inside you was so intense you were sure you would burst with it, James reached down and began rubbing tight circles on your clit as he kept the rhythm of your joined movements going. “Yes, that’s it… Oh, fuck, oh doll, I can’t- you’re perfect… gods.” You whined and curved your back upwards, lodging your nails into his shoulders for leverage when he let go of your arms to hold you in place instead. You were writhing beneath him now. The walls of your cunt were fluttering with need around his cock and the heat in your belly was tightening painfully, unbearably, until one particularly deep thrust combined with the pressure to your sensitive clit finally unraveled it all and set you ablaze. With a helpless, shallow gasp, you clamped down around his length, your body scorching and burning with the pleasure that came gushing through you, overtaking you, overwhelming you until your vision blurred and your hips stuttered mindlessly against him. James groaned as your cunt squeezed him and made him follow you into the surge of your orgasm. He clung to you in a bruising embrace, burying his face in your chest with a sound almost like a sob. Your arms relaxed around him and fell to your sides; it was as if your body was humming faintly beneath your skin with the slowly fading waves of rapture. Could you move if you tried? Every muscle in you felt paralysed. The weight of James’ heavy body was beginning to make you feel a little crushed as well as you lay there beneath his bulking frame, both of you basking in the afterglow. You wanted his affection but you also wanted to breathe. “James?...” Your voice was feeble and hoarse with disuse. You hadn’t spoken more than a few words when forced to since you arrived at the facility. Talking made your situation all too real. It was just his name, but James looked up at your from between your blood-smeared breasts as if you were the eighth great wonder of the world. “Yeah, darling?” He reached up and brushed away a bit of hair that had stuck to your forehead. The movement made you wince and he seemed to realise he was still lying on top of you, because he hurriedly got onto his elbows and carefully pulled out of you again, leaving you feeling strangely empty and hollow. There was an ache as well that the fullness of his cock had drowned out during your lovemaking. You chose to ignore it and nestled into his side as he got comfortable next to you. His closeness was nice. You had been without physical contact even longer than you had been silent. “I wish we were somewhere else…,” James sighed, kissing your forehead. “I wish this was all different…” He nuzzled his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply. So do I. But you didn’t get the chance to say it out loud. The door to the room was slammed open with a crash that made you jolt away from him. Four armed guards entered, all of them equipped with specialised weapons you were sure weren’t legal, not even in the US. “Get up.” The guard in the front poked your shoulder with the barrel of his gun. Your legs were shaky and unstable beneath the weight of your body; it took everything you had not to topple over. Why did it suddenly feel as if you hadn’t get a single bone left? James got up and moved to support you, but one of the other guards shoved him away. “Enough, dead guy. You’ve had your fun with her, now back off.” James snarled at him, but didn’t move any further. “Hey! Fangs back in your mouth, freak.” The one who had had his gun trained on you, a stocky type who seemed to outrank the others, grabbed you by the shoulder and pushed you forwards towards the door. Your legs crumbled and you were on the floor again immediately. It was taxing just to get back on your knees. “Careful with her.” The change in James’ voice sent chills down your spine. He hadn’t moved an inch. The eerie calm with which he spoke was so different from the loving way he had whispered and cooed at you just a moment ago, you nearly swore he was a different person. One of the guards chuckled. “Or what, corpse?” Without warning, he backhanded you across the face. You fell backwards with fresh pain singing and echoing in your skull. You didn’t attempt to get back up this time. Your vision swam and blurred so badly you shut your eyes. Whimpered. “That’s gonna cost you the hand.” The stone-cold certainty in his words was simultaneously the most comforting and most frightening thing you had heard in your time at the facility. “A threat like that is going to cost you a lot more, corpse. I hope she was worth it. Maybe I should have a go at her myself, see what’s getting you so worked up.” Even if you couldn’t see the guard, you could tell from his tone he was smirking. There was nothing James could do to these men and you all knew it. The fact that he didn’t answer this time told you as much. “That’s right, corpse. I am going to split that little fang-banger in half and I might just let you watch. See if I can make her scream-“ “Corporal, let me remind you that we need our sample untainted for the study,” a voice remarked sternly from the speakers. “Get her to surgery now. Subject 66 will be escorted back to his ward when convenient.” “Fine. Let’s get moving.” The corporal, or maybe one of the others, yanked at your arm, but it was impossible to get your legs to cooperate. In the end, they had to drag you from the room. The sound of the door closing somewhere behind you, separating your from James, made your chest hurt almost as bad as your head. None of the donors who had been taken to surgery in the past had come back. You sniffled and tried to imagine the little Greek beach house again. White cotton sheets, the scent of salt and wood, the warmth of the sun… The ocean in James’ shining eyes… You clung to the faint impressions as your knees scraped and bumped into several sharp metal thresholds. They were the only things that kept you from spiralling directly into madness, but they faded with every second. As you were lifted up and strapped to a surgery slab, you wondered if madness wasn’t the better choice after all. Through the hurt in your head, you could hear tools rustling and beeping from several machines being turned on. A bright light appeared above you, burning through your closed eyelids. “Great, let’s begin then,” a voice somewhere behind you declared. “Copulation study 015, breeding trials 001.” _____ Tags: @lilypalmer1987​ @scuzmunkie​ @cake-writes​ @atthediscowithoutpanic​ @sagechanoafterdark​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​

[keyofjetwolf]

Elisabeth: Hate

Poking around at this one is a bit off-script, and I hope @iatheia won’t mind too terribly much that I’m being self-indulgent by going here. I think the sequence for “Hate” though is intensely well done, historically honest, and tonally vital to Rudolf’s character as we enter what is, essentially, his arc in the musical. It’s entirely missing from the Takarazuka version, and I think there’s a conversation to be had in its exclusion, and what responsibilities lie in an adaptation grounded in history. But that’s a conversation not for this post, so for now I’ll simply say that while I understand the Takarazuka version shying away from going here, I think it’s the strongest single example of hollowing itself out. When I was liveblogging it, and so lacking any other version knowledge to compare it to, I found Rudolf a paper thin character whose motivations I could never really wrap myself around. Now, having added the Essen version to my experience, OF COURSE I didn’t get him, I was never given the chance.

Which isn’t to say, of course, that the Takarazuka brought us nothing.

BECAUSE OH DID IT FRIENDS

For Essen Rudolf, however, we’re shown what he sees coming, we know what he knows will happen if he does nothing, and we do it all with the perspective of knowing he was absolutely correct. His struggle and eventual suicide becomes so much more sympathetic AND infuriating, complicating our feelings toward him and making him so more complicated in the process.

So yeah, let’s take a second for a little hate, shall we?

I really love how this is staged, I have to say first up. The chorus emerges from the mist on Rudolf’s repeating echo of “HATE!” They quickly consume the stage, and yet Franz Joseph doesn’t notice them, doesn’t hear, never sees. And that’s incredibly intentional. He doesn’t hurry off stage as this portion begins, he lingers, thoughtful on Rudolf’s words, then walks away, taking the full length of the stage, walking with purpose but very calmly. This serves to contrast in a really fantastic way with Rudolf at the end of the song, so keep this in mind as I’ll touch back on it in a bit.

There is, I have no doubt, a metric fuckton of historical significance and nuance here that I’m not getting. WIKIPEDIA CAN ONLY FILL IN SO MANY GAPS. World War I is a spotty and sketchy thing for most Americans. It’s a complicated clusterfuck that’s not so easily put into “good guys” versus “bad guys”. IT’S A LOT EASIER TO KNOW YOU’RE THE GOOD GUYS WHEN YOU’RE SHOOTING NAZIS. (Though let’s stand in awe of how that’s becoming a more controversial statement every day.) (WOW I’M DEPRESSING MYSELF OKAY BACK TO THE MUSICAL)

My mother and her side are all English, so I’d heard stories about WWI in ways that it impacted my family. I did a bit of reading, because sometimes I like to know things. And I’ve tried to refresh myself and build more knowledge after having watched the Takarazuka, so I’d have more context. But still, I feel I know basically fuck all, so I’m pretty sure lots of details will fly over me. There’s a lot to get here though, even in the broad strokes.

The space left by Franz Joseph as he exits the stage is quickly filled with demonstrators calling for a stronger leader. I SEE YOU MUSICAL. It quickly gets worse.

Hate and violence to those who aren’t with us and those who spread here we will chase off!

NATIONALISM IS A HELL OF A DRUG KIDS. If you aren’t INSERT COUNTRY HERE, GTFO, and  then it gets better!

With socialists and pacifists we won’t waste time anymore!

The Jewish writers and the Jewish women will be our ruin!

If you aren’t the right KIND of countryman, a “real” citizen with the “correct” thoughts and values, we’re coming for you, too. And what’s that? Ahh, the delicate fragrance of rampant antisemitism wafting on the breeze! I’M SURE THAT WON’T HAVE ANY PLAY IN FUTURE EUROPE.

I do think it’s interesting though, in like a desperately efficient and terrifying way, how they very specifically drill down that antisemitism to Jewish writers (the spread of ideas) and Jewish women (the spread of people). It encapsulates the utter blinding hatred of Jews so well that I both admire the writing skill and feel sick at the same time. Kudos? I guess??

The demonstration continues. The hate builds. More and more people join on-stage. The lighting gradually increases, the chanting grows louder. No longer whispers in the shadow, but heart-felt declarations made public.

It’s legitimizing. It’s spreading.

Now not just “demonstrators”, but government leaders, reporters informing the public, educators teaching the next generation. So that’s awesome!

Someone wanders through all this and wonders what’s going on. Lucheni joins him and answers, and I’ve spent a bit of time on why Lucheni, and why now. To this point, he’s been lingering on the fringes. As our guide and narrator, he’s outside of time, with the unique perspective of how all the pieces fit together. I think he’s coming in now as a critic, with his usual mix of irreverent anger, to very directly condemn what we see building. Which may seem like a no-brainer, but I’ll point out again how fucking relevant every second of this is to the world right now on this beautiful day in May 2019.

ANYWHO, the passerby wonders what’s going on. “A demonstration, signore,” Lucheni explains. “Nationalists, antisemites, supporters of Schönerer.”

(“Who’s Schönerer?” I innocently asked Wikipedia. “HITLER’S INSPIRATION.” Wikipedia replies.  “oh.”)

“Outrageous!” the passerby says, visibly startled by this news.

“The 20th century. It’s approaching!” And with this, Lucheni walks off-stage, paying no mind as the passerby is viciously beaten with his own cane by the demonstrators.

Those demonstrators once again swarm the stage, spitting at the beaten passerby and reiterating their core mantra: “Hate and violence to those who aren’t like us! And those that spread here, we will chase off!” Question them? Express the slightest hint of disagreement? Hate and violence!

More chilling, the demonstrators are no longer just a gathering of individuals. They’re beginning to march in formation, literally falling in step together.

They’re organizing.

Lucheni takes center stage again, but this time it’s just him. The demonstrators are still present, their voices responding to him from the darkness, but otherwise, he stands alone.

AND BRINGS ELISABETH BACK INTO IT

Again, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about why the show uses Lucheni here and now. Setting aside my massive ignorance YET AGAIN, I’m not finding anything that indicates Lucheni was particularly antisemitic (the “problem” with Heinrich Heine? I’LL GIVE YOU ONE GUESS.). Lucheni may well have been, but, you know, in a low-key chill sort of way. By which I mean, his deal seems to have been first and foremost about anarchy, not antisemitism or racism. So why have Lucheni be this voice? Why this protest?

And my thought is that we’re dipping for the moment into the “real” Lucheni, rather than the version who’s been taking us on this journey. Or, perhaps another way to look at it is that he represents the growing anti-imperial anarchist movement of the time. He/They may not have specifically been antisemitic, but they were more than happy to wield antisemitism as a tool for their own ends. Fan those flames, and give zero shits about who gets burned.

I think this may be the strongest indictment of Lucheni/anarchists in the musical. Throughout, I feel it mostly comes down on the side of ... if not sympathy, exactly, then of understanding. Elisabeth is complicated, and so, too, would be the feelings about her, particularly for the common people who, as a group, both adore her and suffer at her whims. But Lucheni taking voice here, whatever his motivation, is siding with and inciting those who embody hate and violence, who we know will perpetrate unthinkable atrocities in that name of that hate. The musical doesn’t turn away from the culpability that Lucheni, and those like him, have in not just allowing this but enabling it, ENCOURAGING it.

His piece said, Lucheni runs off-stage, back into the shadows as the demonstration reaches fever pitch.

They march toward the front of the stage, furious but orderly, chaos but contained. The chanting continues, but the marching changes. It becomes a goose-step. There are elaborate hand gestures, and still they all move as one. Finally, it concludes as it must.

The lights slam up, then drop, leaving only one figure on stage.

Rudolf, alone. Not walking past all this like his father, but staring at it directly, unable to look away.

This is what Rudolf sees in their future. Not just the fall of the Hapsburgs, but house after house throughout Europe, the suffering of people in the wake of those conflicts and power vacuums, setting the world stage for even more horrors to come. He KNOWS it’s coming, he can hear it, and the burden of what to do about it falls squarely on his shoulders.

“Hate” is so crucial, I feel, to understanding Rudolf’s thoughts and actions to come in the musical. Without knowing what he sees (things which we know to be true), his motivations against his father make no sense, his longing for some kind of understanding and comfort from his mother make him seem emotionally undeveloped, his desperation lacks weight, and his suicide is reduced to a plot point for Elisabeth rather than the final surrender of hope that we could avoid the inevitable.

And it’s so well done! Really, the way the whole sequence just builds and builds, before abruptly cutting off at this evocative moment, leaving Rudolf its only witness. Just fantastic, I loved it.

IT TOOK ME LIKE A MONTH TO GET MY THOUGHTS TOGETHER TO WRITE THIS POST. One that wasn’t even requested, but again, I hope no one minds too terribly much that I took us down this detour. For as much as I carried on about it, it’s just under two minutes, and if you have those two minutes to spare, I would encourage you to put them here.

[yanderemommabean]

Anon post so as not to confuse! Tentative Yandere Dark Brotherhood Ideas

Hey momma bean, how are you? I hope you feel better soon, that you take care, and that the detritus that is those pathetic anons giving you hate, all catch herpes. The oral or genital kind.

Just popping in for two things.

Sending it as a submission instead of an ask because I don’t really see it as an ask even if it’s not worthy of submission (and I’m sure you’re busy enough with asks as it is. And because it’s about to get loooonnng and I don’t want to end up sending it in different asks where it will get lost and eaten.  

So (1) I love and adore this blog, it contributes to at least 65% of the air I breathe.  

Great, got the most important point out of the way. :D

Am currently on another Skyrim binge as a Dunmer. Useful against dragons and 90% of mages, they’re an interesting race with a long, fascinating history, their association with the Daedra and worship, their exotic looks, unique culture, made all the more interesting with the addition of Solstheim. Many notable figures in the game and in the Elder Scrolls’ history have been Dunmer; Queen Barenziah, Karliah, Lord Nerevar, the Tribunal, etc. The Night Mother was a Dunmer too, which leads to 2) a scenario, the Dark Brotherhood kind. 

Imagine the whole Brotherhood going yandere (platonic or romantic for those who may be squeamish about gender, race, age, etc., soft yandere, hardcore yandere, obsessive yandere, sadistic, manipulative, anything goes here.) for the new Dragonborn initiate.

This is all set before progressing too far in the Dark Brotherhood questline, specifically; To Kill an Empire, for the obvious and terrible reason.

When I say the whole Brotherhood, I mean all of it. From the Unholy Matron herself, to the spectre of Lucien Lachance, to Cicero (who we all know is obsessed), to Astrid herself.

I know I’m not the only one who’s thought about it.

From Cicero who we need not elaborate on, to Nazir who I accurately quote as saying; “I’ll follow you til I’m dust on the breeze. You do realise that?” It all creeps in for them at different stages and they all handle it differently. Maybe things still go on as per canon or perhaps things get altered.

I’ve got ideas on all of them but I just thought I’d send in some headcanons about how it starts for Astrid and the Night Mother. Hope ya like them. 

Astrid: the seductive femme fatale assassin. Used to getting her own way, used to being the one with power and control and not at all eager for that to change. It all accelerates pretty quickly with her. 

Astrid stalks the Dragonborn relentlessly before kidnapping them and taking them to that shack. She gets to know them in that time; learns their habits and idiosyncrasies, admires how they spill blood, finds herself taking little peeks at them in their more…intimate moments.

She starts feeling oddly irritated at those who take their attention away and make it harder for her to stay close to her future initiate. And they WILL be her Initiate. By the time it comes for her to bring them to the Abandoned Shack, she knows they’ll be joining her; the alternative doesn’t even bear thinking about but thankfully it doesn’t come to that. 

She welcomes them joyfully into their new Family. Delighted to see them settling in, in how right they look in her home, amongst her subordinates and wearing the Dark Brotherhood regalia.

The imminent arrival of the Night Mother and the Keeper are a little blip on the radar; nothing for her to be concerned over. She’s pleased by the DB’s progress as they complete their contracts, they truly belong to her Sanctuary. 

Of course, after the Night Mother arrives things get difficult.

Astrid despises the little jester. The idea that he could be plotting with a member of the Sanctuary to usurp her authority through the use of that decrepit, old, corpse is infuriating.

It’s discomforting for Astrid to send her beloved protégé to spy on the secret meeting (the way that fool’s been looking at them makes her want to pluck his crazy little eyes out herself) but who else could she trust with this?

When she hears the murderous lunatic shrieking from outside the room, she’s horrified. She’ll skin the jester herself if he’s done anything to her dear brother/sister, her only thought is saving them and disposing of the traitor.  

The revelation that they are the new Listener shakes her to the core. Everything is wrong. Although it pains her to send them away, it’s all she can so to try and regroup her thoughts and plan from there.

That her Family in general reaffirm their loyalty to her despite this revelation is touching, but she already knows how some of them secretly (or blatantly) feel about the Old Ways. Now that there’s finally a Listener, that the Night Mother herself had finally intervened and spoken to someone that wasn’t Astrid; well who could blame her for getting a little paranoid about her postition.

And of course, that damned Cicero bouncing around the place, more obsessed with her assassin than ever was a thorn that woudnn’t stop burrowing into her skull, the way he eyed her triumphantly as if she’s already been usurped does little to help her temperament.

(I’ll leave the rest of it open to interpretation.)

The Night Mother; (I fail to see this as anything other than platonic, just putting that out there now.)

A mother loves her children; she can’t help it and though she tries to love them all equally that cannot be the case all the time, we all love whom we love.

The Night Mother had waited so long for her Listener. So very long. A silent, voiceless witness to the Dark Brotherhood’s decline. Watching helplessly as it withered away, losing Family, respect, loyalty and their very purpose in the world. The Unholy Matron had nothing no one left to rely on but her unwavering faith in the Dread Father and her humble Keeper.

Then the silence is broken. A young initiate appears in the most endearing fashion; carefully slipping in to share her iron tomb and warm her ancient bones, and she knows that this one, is the one she’s been waiting for. 

Is it so odd that she feels a tad protective of them?

The Dark Brotherhood is on the brink of extinction, it’s only natural to have the Listener spend more time with her, to hear the will of the Void of course.

They are the future and saviour of the Dark Brotherhood, it’s entirely sensible of the Night Mother to not want them leaving the Sanctuary. Anything could happen to them out there. That’s what the other assassins, Silencers and even Speakers were made for.

The souls of assassins long past from the world swore to serve the will of Sithis in life and in death. Why shouldn’t she send them to watch over her Listener? How does that not serve the Brotherhood? The Listener being placed in danger serves no purpose while the Brotherhood requires their leadership.

She can wait for them. Her dear child’s soul is bound to the Void, she can wait for them to join her and her other beloved children.

(However difficult it may be not to simply give into the urge to send her precious Listener out alone on a contract that will finally bring their soul to her loving embrace at last, never to leave it again). 

I have some ideas about the others but I’m still roughing it out. Thoughts? Contributions? Disagreements?

((GOD PLEASE CONTINUE I AM SO IN LOVE YOU WRITE SO WELL I JUST SNDJSJSJS))

[sj9112]

Henry Yates: A Rebuttal

Sorry to get a bit wordy here, but I desperately needed to get this off my chest:

https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2019/may/27/how-not-going-out-heroes-went-from-cat-fight-chemistry-to-child-saddled-losers

I’m not a person who usually responds to stuff like this because opinions are just opinions and everyone has one. But I was frankly offended by the way I, as a viewer, was characterized by this piece and I cannot let such glib ignorance go unchallenged. Honestly, this makes me very, very angry. The writer displays such a complete and fundamental misunderstanding of the programme and what makes it watchable that it truly blows my mind. I understand that some things are not to everyone’s taste, but did we even watch the same show? A few points that I specifically would like to address:

1)      The idea that Lee’s hand was “forced” into settling the will-they-or-won’t-they tension, thus destroying the show. He’s getting on in years, FFS. Do you honestly think you’d still enjoy watching the show if you had to watch a 50-year-old man lusting after his landlady? Ew. That tension HAD to be resolved – you cannot sustain it indefinitely. NO SHOW CAN.

2)      Secondly, do not presume to speak on behalf of all viewers of the show, Mr. Henry Yates. I for one DO give a damn about Lee and Lucy’s relationship after they got together, perhaps too much (though I will never apologize for Lee and Lucy being my OTP), and I KNOW that I am not the only one. I am also not a sad, lazy, and bored middle-aged parent resigned to watching the show every week. The episodes are, in fact, the highlight of my week, and I always throw them on to cheer myself up. I’m also an American, so I make time at 4 pm local time to brew myself a cuppa and tune into my satellite to watch these episodes as they’re broadcast – I go out of my way to watch this show live in a way that no other programme can motivate me to do. Perhaps keep your insulting generalizations of an audience you know NOTHING about to yourself, “kind sir.”

3)      I also think that it is highly insulting to Lee Mack to wrongly assume that he is being forced “at gunpoint” to co-write these scripts as if he no longer cares and that attaching his name to the scripts is a badge of shame. You do know that this show is his passion project, yes? And that he devotes 10 months out of every year working hard on this show in between all of his other commitments? That this show is the thing he is most proud of in his career? And he has every right to be – look at recent episodes like Escape Room or Parachute, how smartly constructed those plots were. While some moves and lines can be anticipated, the writing takes clever and delightful turns that never fail to amuse me (and perhaps others, though I don’t presume to speak for all viewers UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE). I personally can see the care that so many people put into every shot of these episodes. Small details in the set design, the colour-coordination in the costuming, the actors’ choreography, and the blocking/framing of each scene all work very closely together to emphasize the characters, their traits, and the episode’s story. The live episode was a bloody marvel and a lot of effort was put forth by cast and crew alike – they didn’t make it easy on themselves and they acquitted themselves more than admirably! It takes a very passionate team to complete a project like that! There is not an ounce of fat on these scripts, either; every line, look, and gesture serves a purpose for the episode’s plot. The writing is tightly constructed in a manner that I can only marvel at and envy. Take Holiday Share, for example; a little throwaway line in act one ends up becoming the crux of the rising action in act three. As an English literary scholar, I find the scripts fascinating to study (and have written more than a few academic term papers about them in my undergraduate career). YOU, Mr. Yates, may not be impressed with them, but surely the fact that I, in my own capacity, find much to admire within them surely counts for something? It’s almost as if different people can assign different values to the same art! Shocking, I know!

4)      It seems you object most to the “groaners” and the frequent trotting-out of Bobby Ball’s shtick. Go back and watch the earlier series, the one-liners and zingers have always been there, especially when Tim Vine was on the show. They’re a staple of the show, always have been. I’m sorry they’ve ceased to work with you, but they haven’t suddenly “appeared” to torment you in the later series. And while Bobby Ball may not appeal to you, perhaps you ought to take a step back and wonder if it’s broad humour in general that you’re opposed to, because this show’s humour is quite broad (and, guess what, it always has been). If you don’t like that, fine, but don’t pretend that the show hasn’t always been like this. Go back to the earlier series and you will not find it to be as nuanced as you seem to think it was – in fact, it was worse. Especially in the first and second series: the scripts were weaker, Lee and Tim nearly turned to the camera/studio audience after every punchline, and the chemistry between the core cast had not even begun to be built (or, in the case of series one, it was lacking completely). Lee himself has said that the show did not start to find its stride until series 3, and you can track the progression of the show over time – Lee’s writing got sharper, the cast formed dynamic working relationships which only improved with familiarity (I thought Memory from this series was a striking example of how well Lee and Sally play off of each other in a way that wouldn’t have been possible in the show’s earlier years), and the characters have truly come into their own. I am being 100% honest when I say that I have found each successive series an improvement upon the last and that makes me truly excited for what the show will produce next.

5)      I always find it infuriating when people laud Lee’s work on WILTY while slagging off NGO and/or his standup with the same breath. You’re not a fan of Lee’s work, then; you’re a fan of WILTY. Lee undoubtedly demonstrates a quick-witted brilliance on Would I Lie to You?, but his talents do not end there. While it is by no means a requirement to like or appreciate absolutely everything an entertainer does, I find it hard to separate the little quips and “groaners” of Lee’s that light up the WILTY stage from the same quips and “groaners” he’s carefully honed and tested for his scripts or his routines. The humour is the same; the environment is different, but it’s still the same. Maybe that doesn’t work for you in a sitcom or on the stage, and that’s fine; but don’t call yourself a fan of Lee’s work when you think his accomplishments begin and end with a show that he literally rolls up to and expends minimal effort into and that he holds no merit outside of it.

6)      This goes back to point number 2 a bit, but I do feel as though I need to explain why this piece offended me so deeply. I do not wish to go into the traumatic circumstances that led me to begin watching Not Going Out in the first place, nor the pervading circumstances that keep me so attached to the show. Let it suffice to say that, while I can appreciate what they’re trying to do, I just can’t engage with comedy dramas or more darker comedy programmes because it’s all a little hashtag #tooreal in my actual life. Not Going Out provides a much-needed bit of escapism from my real life that I can’t really get from other programmes. It’s one of the precious few shows I can turn on and feel like I’m experiencing joy again. Not Going Out is a simple show, a light-hearted show, and a fun show; it doesn’t need to be anything more, but everyone does what they need to do so well. I can appreciate all of the details in each episode as I watch it repeatedly on a loop, sometimes 2-3 times a day, to help myself feel better (and the iPlayer doesn’t even work in my country). Far from the bored, passive viewer you paint me to be, I cling to this show like it’s a lifeline. Which it is, for me. This programme has done so much to help me in times of mental and physical distress, and I love it so, so, much for that.

7)      Now, sir, since you have made so many gross presumptions about myself and how I feel as a viewer of Not Going Out, I will do the same for you: come on, now. The only reason you think Lee’s brilliant on WILTY and that NGO used to be great is because he won a BAFTA for WILTY and NGO won a Rose D’Or in 2007, isn’t it?

I’m sorry, sir, that you have ceased to find amusement watching Not Going Out, but I, for one, have been enthusiastically attached to this latest series and am as far from tired of it as I possibly could be. I’d suggest you leave the viewing to us, switch off your telly, and attempt to remove your head from your own arse – it surely must be beginning to smell in there.

[thesffcorner]

Corrupt by Penelope Douglass

Corrupt is an erothic thriller that’s part of the Devil’s Night series by Penelope Douglas. It mostly follows Erika, daughter to a rich family living in the affluent community in Thunder Bay, who three years ago was involved in an event that sent 3 of Thunder Bay’s most popular and prized boys to jail. Now, they are back, and along with Michael, their best friend and the man Erika has been in love with her entire life, they plan to destroy her and exact their revenge.

This book, is probably the most disappointing thing I have ever read. And I have a lot to say about it, so buckle up; it’s going to be a long review.

First off, this has probably one of the most intriguing premises I have come across in a while; 4 boys who are the richest, most powerful, popular and well protected in an already incredibly rich and affluent community pick one night a year where they do ‘pranks’ that go from stealing trucks to arson and assault, and get away with it, because even though everyone knows who they are, they are so protected by their own community, that they never have to face consequences. Except, because of Erika they do, and now they want revenge, and to complicated things, the one who didn’t go to jail is in love with her. And yet, this book fails to deliver on every possible promise of this premise, which is almost incredible.

PoV Issues:

First off, for whatever reason we have POV’s from both Erika and Michael, which completely takes the mystery out of the book. If the whole premise is Erika not knowing whether Michael likes/hates/wants to sexually assault her, it kind of defeats the purpose of the mystery if we can read exactly what he’s thinking. Having his POV grinds a lot of the book to a halt, and it’s not delivered particularly well either; there’s long stretches of the book where we don’t have his POV, while the ending is almost entirely him, making the book feel uneven; it’s like it can’t decide if he or Erika are the protagonists and as such, character development that should come at the beginning is saved for the very end, at which point I no longer cared.

Pacing and Length:

Second, this book is just way too long. It’s almost 500 pages, and it doesn’t utilize them well. We skip between 3 years ago and the present, and the 3 years ago sections were painful. Everything that happens in the school prior to the actual Devil’s Night is straight out of a poorly written YA book, complete with the ‘popular boy I like doesn’t notice me’ trope, the ‘I think I’m plain, but I’m secretly stunning’, and most infuriatingly dialogue so bad, not only do no teenagers actually speak like that, no humans speak like that.

This was doubly confusing to me, because the one thing Douglas does do well is the banter between the Horsemen (barf); their dialogue and jokes did sound convincingly high school and like boys pretending to be tough and unbothered, but unfortunately we get very little exploring their dynamic.

You’d think that a 500 page book would have time to develop the characters and really flesh out this plan and its intricacies, but no. Instead, we have one scene of MIchael and his dad arguing about trust funds and inheritance, another scene of the guys planning to do something to Erika’s mom (and us not knowing what they did for like 20+ chapters, even though WE CAN READ FROM MICHAEL’S POV), and the rest is just inane bits of I guess character development for Erika, which is delivered in the most blunt, uninteresting straightforward manner. It doesn’t help that in the past sections, it takes about 200 pages for things to actually start getting interesting, because the start is just Erika being tormented relentlessly by all the men around her, and her not standing up, and the present is her series of increasingly dumb decisions, and back and forth between her and Michael. The plot also peaks too early, and the following 100 pages just feel like they are a waste of time rather than building tension.

The Sex Scenes:

The pacing affects even the sex scenes. Some of them are ill placed, and others are so long and drawn out that even if you are reading this book for them, you will be bored out of your mind. Again, this book can’t decide if it’s a genuine erotic thriller with stakes and a plot, and the sex is supposed to play into that, or an erotica with some mild thriller elements. If it’s the former, then the fact that we have no sex for the first 200 pages, and then like 5 or 6 really long scenes near the climax of the thriller plot is not helpful, and neither is the fact that only 2 really contribute to the plot. If it’s the latter, then there are too few of them and they come too late in the book for anyone to care at that point. 500 pages is just too long for an erotic novel, and I was tapped out on caring about the sex by the second proper sex scene.

Writing and Dialogue:

This book is not written… well. Firstly, there are tons of overlong, flat and plain unnecessary descriptions; I don’t need to know the layout of Michael’s family house unless it will contribute to the plot, or every detail of Erika’s childhood if you won’t at least describe it with flare. The point of long descriptions in FP narratives is to give us insight into how the characters see and remember the world; they’ll describe things in their individual way and note what they find important. Here it’s just flat straightforward descriptions of actions or places that tell me nothing about Erika or Michael.

This same style of flat writing permeates the book even in the sex scenes; we get them both from Michael and Erika and they sound exactly the same, there is no difference. In general there is no difference between Michael and Erika’s voices; Michael mentions cocks and boobs more and wants you to know ‘Erika is mine’ and Erika is constantly thinking only about Michael and wants you to know ‘she belongs to no one, except no one is Michael’

She also has these long monologues about wealth, privilege, social pressures and differences between men and women, and it’s almost infuriating, because Douglas is so close to actually saying something meaningful about these things, but it never goes anywhere and it only serves to tell us that yes, Erika is rich, and yes, it sometimes bothers her, but no, she’d never give up the money, even though I guess she wants to feel like she’d survive without it. If it was written better and actually informed Erika’s character, it would be an interesting study of someone who grew up rich and learning how to make it on their own outside of their privileged environment, but like a lot of things, it goes nowhere.

Then there’s the dialogue. It’s bad. I won’t belabor the point, but I will just give you two examples: on page 28:

“Rika,” he lowered his voice, his brown eyes gentle “Baby you’re beautiful. Long blonde hair, legs that no guy in this school can ignore and he prettiest blue eyes in town. You’re gorgeous”

And on page 70:

“What about you?” I finally asked, making him stop. “Did prison change you?”

He turned, looking at me with eerie calmness “I guess we’ll see”

Lack of Genuine Darkness and Consequences:

Like that second example implies, this book is ‘dark’. Unfortunately, that’s probably the biggest missed opportunity. This is hard to talk about without SPOILERS, so skip this part if you still want to read this book.

We are told that Erika did something to put the guys in jail, possibly as revenge for something they did to her; moreover, their plan is to destroy her, which could mean anything. So I was excited to get some genuinely dark stuff, but unfortunately this book has a tendency to whitewash it’s characters, and nothing they do is actually that reprehensible.

First let’s talk about Devil’s Night. I didn’t mind that the pranks the guys pulled were mostly tied to property damage and theft, because, well they are high schoolers. The orgy/sex circle in the catacombs was just… dumb. I can’t imagine why high school students would be down to have sex in an actual CATACOMB in front of a live audience that just so happens not to have phones recording everything but whatever. The only prank the boys pull which is genuinely fucked up was burning the gazebo, but while I didn’t approve, it wasn't anything that was genuinely dark.

What the guys actually do to Erika was also weird. On the one hand, taking her for a ride in a forest and pretending to want to rape her, so they scare her to stay away from Michael is pretty fucked up. But on the other hand, they don’t actually do it, and since it was Trevor pulling the shots, they never even INTENDED to do it. Even Damon, the one guy from the Horsemen who actually participated in the act, had no intention of actually assaulting Erika, which she obviously didn’t know at the time, but it makes his actions much less sinister.

Then there’s Erika. She didn’t actually do it. That’s the big twist; what gets the boys in jail, isn’t actually anything she does. Instead it was Trevor, all along because there is only one true villain and he is Trevor. What lands Damon in jail is a video of him sleeping with the mayor’s daughter, which Trevor sends to the police. Since the girl is underage, it’s legally  not consensual and well… yeah. Again, we can argue all day about consent of minors, but in this book’s universe, Michael is fine for wanting to sleep with a 16 year old Erika, and the book makes sure to tell us that Damon did seduce and consentually sleep with the girl. Even more, the mayor actually hated Damon’s family and used this to destroy him and… can we whitewash Damon a little more please? I don’t think he’s quite saintly enough. He’s the only person who does something in the ballpark of reprehensible, and surprise he’s the other designated villain.

Will and Kai get caught on tape beating up a police officer. Bad, right? Well no, it turns out the police officer they beat up, abused his sister. How noble of them. They are such good people, they went to jail for Will trying to protect his crush (whose gazebo he burned down but… Will makes no sense as a character, don’t dwell on it).

Then the actual plan. First, Michael legally forces Erika’s mother into rehab, which is illegal, but not morally wrong since she is an alcoholic and in essence he’s forcing her to get help. Then Kai, Will and Damon burn down Erika’s house, which was the only part of this plan that I genuinely felt was horrible, but that’s only because we get the one good scene of Michael and Erika bonding over her collection of matches she keeps to remember her father.

Then, Michael takes over as the proprietor of Erika’s estate and freezes all her funds which is again, is a pretty dick move, but didn’t Erika want not to be shackled by her father;s money? Also this is just the last ploy to get Erika to go to the house where the boys are hiding so they can exact their true revenge which is…. To rape her. Maybe.

This part I was really confused by. It seems that’s what they want, but later we are told that they only really wanted to frighten her and make her feel as alone and afraid as they all did when they went to jail. Which again, whitewashes their actions, but even if they did genuinely want to rape her, the plan still makes no sense.

You are telling me that these men, spent 3 years in jail and the only thing that helped them survive it, is a plan to send Erika’s mom to rehab, freeze or destroy her material properties and then rape her? And then what? None of them seem interested in killing her, so do they just… hope she doesn’t go to the police? They all have criminal records, and one of them is probably in the database for sexual offenders! And then, when we find out what had actually happened, everyone just forgives everyone, except Travis the supervillain, who gets MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD.

Now, I want to be very clear. Nothing I say here is something I condone. I do not condone sexual violence, or really any type of violence that isn’t in self defense. But either commit to the characters or don’t damnit!

Commit to the boys assaulting Erika. Maybe don’t go all the way; have Trevor intervene and save her, and maybe he convinces her to use the videos on Will’s phone if you want her to not be solely responsible for sending them to jail. Then the threat of them being in town is genuine because they are actually dangerous people. I would 100% believe that the culmination of their plan is to rape her, if we know they’d done it before, and even more so because of what they had to go through while in prison. It also helps add conflict to Erika and Michael’s characters; he could slowly find out that there was a reason Erika sent them to jail and then he actually has to choose between his friends and her. Erika actually was willing to take justice in her own hands, since she would know first hand how the previous attempt she made to get a rapist to be punished went.

Which leads me to the lack of consequences. As soon as the truth comes out Erika immediately forgives the guys for literary destroying her life, and she especially immediately forgive Michael for not even stopping for a moment to make sure what they guys told him was true, and being willing to let them assault her! Then we have Damon, who gets stabbed, but then completely gets away with helping Travis orchestrate the joyride, assaulting Erika again, kidnapping her, and helping Travis try and kill her. He just fucks off to St Petersburg! (Side note, what kind of person thinks that Damon Torrence is someone who has Russian heritage?)

Travis, a whole mess of a character, kidnaps his ex so he can lure his brother and TRY TO KILL HIM, because his ex is in love with him. He orchestrates a possible rape so he can destroy the relationship between the boys and Erika, sends the boys to jail and why? No reason! And then, he gets shot and killed by Michael, and Michael GETS AWAY WITH IT. There is no trial, no jail time, not scandal in the papers about the son of the wealthiest man in Thunder Bay and a professional NBA BASKETBALL PLAYER killing his own brother! IN WHAT UNIVERSE? That part annoyed me even more than all the other things I mentioned before; there are no consequences and no motivation and this book FAILS as a thriller.

Characters:

Let’s start with actual supervillain Trevor. He is possessive, jealous, arrogant and willing to KILL HIS OWN BROTHER just because the girls he wants is in love with him. Why?

He seems to be their abusive dad’s favorite son, he’s arranged to marry Erika anyway, he gets all of her properties and money and managed to get rid of Michael’s friends. He has everything! All he had to do was just tell his father or Erika that the gang is back and planning something, and none of this would’ve happened. He even gets an evil monologue at the end and tells Erika Damon’s backstory, both of which were straight out of a Bond movie. I hated this stupid waste of a character when he could’ve actually been fleshed out and interesting.

Alex is a character that just exists so Erika isn’t the only girl in this book. There is a very weird and inexplicable implication that she’s attracted to Erika and is maybe bisexual and maybe Erika is bisexual that goes absolutely nowhere and I absolutely hated it. It doesn’t help that this book is weirdly homophobic in some other aspects, and the way all the characters, especially the men treat Alex was just awful.

Out of the three guys, Will was the one I understood the least. He’s an alcoholic and that’s where his character starts and ends. We never learn anything interesting about him, and he barely has 10 lines in total. He might as well not have been there.

Damon we’ve been over; he’s the one that I ended up liking the most, because he was the only actually morally corrupt and interesting character. He outright hates women, has a pretty intense backstory and severe mommy issues, and even gets some interesting dialogue with Erika. He’s the only one I might be tempted to read a book about, but only if it’s much shorter than this.

At first Kai was the most interesting of the group and was the biggest wasted potential. He is closed off, secretive and seems to be the most reasonable one, and I genuinely thought that his big secret was either going to be that he has been in love with Michael this whole time, or that he was also sexually assaulted in jail. We never find out what happened to him in jail, which is a shame, but again, since this is a series it probably something Douglas is saving for the second book. As for his relationship with Michael, without me spoiling anything, it’s exactly the twist with Wentworth Miller’s character from Loft, except if the pool scene actually had actually gone with Miller joining the rest. I never like this type of queerbaity twist, especially, because as I mentioned the representation of anyone who isn’t straight or white in this book is horrendous. 

Michael was both the worst character and the best developed one. I understood where his anger issues stemmed from, why he was so rude and abrasive to everyone, especially Erika and even the hatred he had for Trevor. I wish we actually had time to develop his relationship with Trevor and his father, and actually delved into why they hated each other so much, but we don’t have time for that in this hell. I thought since he was a basketball player, it would actually play a part, but it doesn’t; other than one line about him being distracted because of the plan, the fact that he plays for the NBA is completely irrelevant. His relationship with Erika was infuriating. He supposedly loves her and thinks she’s his match, but he treats her like shit; possessive, hypocritical, controlling and condescending. There is no reason he should have commitment issues but he has those too, and the fact that it takes Erika being in mortal danger before he tells her he loves her was INFURIATING.

Erika was no better. I again, foolishly believed that her being a fencer would have something to do with the plot but other than an excuse for two truly bewildering scenes it doesn’t. She was an incredibly feeble character and the more the book attempted to paint her as becoming this powerful player and ‘corrupt’ girl the more I got Ana Steele and Bella Swan vibes. She is not empowered nor strong; she is constantly pushed around, insulted, yelled at and even physically manhandled by everyone around her. The fact that none of the characters talk to or treat her like an adult, or know how to communicate at all was bewildering, and she herself was just dense. Not only does she make the stupidest decisions, she also multiple times fails to grasp really simple, obvious things and her wanting to be a sociologist because she liked reading people made me scream.

What’s most frustrating, is just like with Michael there are nuggets of a good character here and there; she is sometimes observant and clever, but mostly she just allows everyone to manipulate her and I couldn’t stand it.

Conclusion?

I do NOT recommend this book. It kept me reading only because I was curious to see what had actually sent the gang to jail and when I found out I was too far into the book to justify DNFing it. But it was not good and I have no desire to read any of the subsequent books by her, unless I hear that her writing has drastically improved (which judging by the blurb for Kill Switch, the book about Damon, it doesn’t seem like it).

goodreads

[idristardis]

CS Fic Formal: “I Found a Love”

A/N: At long lonnnnnng last, I can reveal that I am your CSFF Anon @branlovesouat !! I’m so very sorry that this gift is (literally) a month late, but between juggling two different jobs and my muse taking your prompts and deciding to write roughly thousands upon thousands of words, it...took a while to come together. I thank you infinitely for your patience - it has been wonderful getting to know you over this process - and I only hope that this fic lives up to your expectations and hopes!!

In addition to CS banter and sass, you asked for Ruby and Emma friendship and Belle and Killian friendship, romance that was paced at a “medium burn,” a story more driven by plot than atmosphere, and some way of incorporating Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect.” I hope I delivered on all of those fronts to your liking dear!! The fic’s title is taken from that song, and there are a couple of other ways I wove it into the fic (including the vibe of the next to the last scene) without making it a song-fic, per se.

I also want to give a huge thank you to the @csficformal mods for hosting such a wonderful event and for putting up with me when I kept asking if I could push my deadline back a bit because there were just more words spilling out of my brain. You guys rock!!

Now, without further ado...here are approximately 22K words of modern royalty Lt. Duckling AU. Hope you all enjoy!!

P.S. Rating is low-to-mid T for some swearin’ and some kissin’. Also, I borrowed one line from 10 Things I Hate About You - see if you can spot it. :D :D

“You’ll never guess the news I just received, little brother.”

Killian sighed, automatically muttering younger under his breath before pushing his half-finished lunch to the side and tossing down the report he’d been skimming through while he ate. Looking up, he met Liam’s gaze expectantly. His brother stood next to Killian’s chosen table in the corner of the officer’s mess with a grin on his face that – given his usually serious demeanor – bordered on disturbingly giddy.

When Liam dropped into the seat across from him, practically vibrating with pent-up energy, and yet didn’t immediately speak, Killian sighed. “You’re literally going to make me guess, aren’t you?”

Liam nodded, his grin growing impossibly wider. “Absolutely.”

“Why?” Killian groaned.

“Because this news is amazing, and it’s more fun to have you guess. It draws out the suspense,” Liam replied, leaning over towards Killian’s abandoned lunch and snagging a French fry off his plate. “Besides, you’ll never get it right, and then I’ll get to tell you anyway. Best of both worlds, really.”

“That makes almost no sense,” Killian said exasperatedly, reaching out and pulling his plate back towards him before Liam could pilfer any more of his food.

“Ah, but there’s a vast difference between something almost not making sense and actually not making sense,” Liam said, leveling his gaze on Killian before continuing. “Besides, you’re just stalling while you try to think of whatever invariably incorrect answer you’re going to come up with. So,” he rapped his knuckles on the tabletop for emphasis, “guess.”

Killian stared at Liam in silence for a long moment. He really was at a loss for what the mysterious news could be, but he stubbornly didn’t want to admit as much to his brother. Finally, just as he was about to give in and hazard a ridiculous – and almost certainly incorrect – guess just to get Liam to move the whole process along, Killian’s eye landed on the discarded report he’d been reading when his brother had arrived. The neatly typed date in the corner of the document triggered a realization and he chuckled as a flash of insight raced through him.

Suddenly, he knew.

In fact, it was so obvious he couldn’t believe he hadn’t put two and two together immediately.

Sitting up straighter, Killian regarded Liam with a wide smile of his own. “Alright, let’s see it then,” he said, holding his hand out expectantly.

“What?” Liam said, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“The list of new appointments to the Cadre,” Killian replied easily. “That is what you came here to tell me about, isn’t it?”

Astonishment, irritation, and frustrated resignation flickered across Liam’s face in quick succession before he slumped back in his chair. “Y’know, you are bloody infuriating sometimes. How did you do that?!”

“Once I remembered what day it was, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out what had you so fired up,” Killian said with a smirk. “There are only a few things in life that can get you that excited.”

“Oi! Don’t act like you aren’t just as eager,” Liam retorted, digging in the pocket of his uniform coat and pulling out a folded piece of paper and handing it to Killian. “You know as well as I do little brother that getting appointed to the Cadre can be career-making.”

Killian let the nickname slide this time, as he was too busy opening up the paper that could very well change his life. “Did you look yet?” he asked Liam, his eyes flicking upwards to meet his brother’s.

Liam nodded, his smile a bit sheepish. “Sorry, Kil. I just couldn’t wait. But why d’you think I was so damn eager to talk to you?”

Any response Killian was about to make died on his tongue as his eyes fell on the list of nine names marching in a tidy column down the left hand side of the paper. He’d only made it about halfway down when he spotted the names he’d been fervently hoping to see.

“Bloody hell.”

-/-

Misthaven Star-Herald

COMMANDING RESPECT: NINE ELITE OFFICERS SELECTED FOR APPOINTMENT TO CADRE 2018

By Sidney Glass

Star-Herald Royal Reporter

SPERO, MISTHAVEN, APRIL 30, 2018 – Reports from the palace today have confirmed what was long-suspected to be true: Queen Mary-Margaret and King David, in consultation with the Prime Minister and the most trusted members of their Privy Council, have at long last completed the selection process for Initiates to the newest Cadre.

The Cadre, an elite squadron of officers comprised of members from all branches of Misthaven’s military, is personally selected every three years by the King and Queen. The newly chosen members of the Cadre will arrive in the capital city of Spero next week, at which time they will enter into a rigorous training boot camp designed to ready them to serve both as personal guards to the entire royal family and emissaries of the country’s armed forces when they accompany the royal family abroad.

Candidates selected for this rarified group have proven themselves in a variety of ways. They must have graduated in the top third of their cadet class, possess an exemplary service record in their branch of the military, show an aptitude and inclination for officer training, be in peak physical condition, and conduct themselves with honor in their everyday service. Having exhibited extraordinary valor in combat scenarios is also taken into account, but is by no means mandatory.

In addition to boot camp, when each new Cadre is selected, one member of each service branch from the previous Cadre remains in place for the first year of the new Cadre’s term. They are intended to act as mentor and training officer for their service branch within the Cadre and may be called upon to perform Cadre functions from time to time – though their main purpose is to train the newly selected members of the squadron. During the first year of each Cadre’s tenure, the presence of these training officers cause the group to swell to twelve members rather than its typical nine.

The existence of the Cadre dates back almost to the founding of Misthaven. Though its exact origins have been lost to time and the great fire of 1860, which destroyed much of the contents of the Hall of Records for Misthaven’s military, anecdotal evidence traces its beginning back to the kingdom’s fledgling days. Formed to protect the leaders of the small, newly-formed kingdom against the outside forces of its larger and mightier neighbors, over time, the Cadre has also come to serve other purposes – these include fostering community, partnership, and mutual understanding between members of different service branches. Members often maintain close professional ties long after their Cadre years are over. These bonds help to strengthen Misthaven’s military in tangible and intangible ways.

Of course, the Cadre still adheres to its original purpose – providing the highest caliber of protective services to Misthaven’s royal family. This year, the twelve servicemen and women appointed to the Cadre are:

Royal Misthaven Army

Captain R. Locksley

Lieutenant B. French

Warrant Officer W. Scarlet

Lieutenant G. Humbert – training officer

 Royal Air Force of Misthaven

Wing Commander A. King

Flight Lieutenant E. Merlin

Flight Lieutenant M. Fa

Flight Lieutenant L. Dulac – training officer

 Misthaven Royal Navy

Commander L. Jones

Lieutenant K. Jones

Sub-lieutenant W. Smee

Lieutenant-Commander K. Nottingham – training officer

-/-

Emma sighed with relief as the back door of Two Wolves Tavern swung shut behind her, effectively muffling the noise from the street outside. Thankfully, this part of Spero was a good distance from the bars and clubs that lined the streets of the capital city’s small, yet bustling, nightclub district. Two Wolves would get busier as the night went on, but it would be nothing like the sort of chaos that could be found downtown.

The tavern was old – having been in the same family’s ownership for multiple generations – and the inside was a blend of cozy restaurant, warm and inviting bar, and a small space where those who were so inclined could dance. The wood paneling was dark and burnished to a shine, the lights low and soothing, and the furnishings were on the rustic, lived-in side. All of those elements combined to give the tavern itself an uncanny ability to project a sense of comfort and safety every time a person stepped through its doors.

It didn’t hurt that its owners – Elizabeth Lucas and her granddaughter Ruby – were friendly and yet fiercely protective of their clientele. Not to mention that they had been friends of Misthaven’s royal family since the current queen was a young girl. Privacy and discretion were as guaranteed at Two Wolves as they could ever be in a city as infamously gossip-riddled as Spero.

In short, it was perfect.

It was the ideal place for a princess to hide away from the world for a few hours, which was exactly what Emma was determined to do.

She straightened, pushing up from where she’d slumped against the now-closed door, and took a deep breath. Slipping inside the nearby ladies’ room, she took a moment to look at herself – truly look – in the mirror above the tiny sink. Beyond the crack running up one edge of the glass she saw a woman who, while appearing slightly tired, had an invigorated sparkle in her eyes. She loved her family and – most of the time – she loved the life she got to lead. But there were some occasions when the expectations and pressures of being a princess just got to be too much and she needed to get away.

Tonight is definitely one of those times, she thought to herself with a grimace. Especially if the Privy Council is going to be so ridiculously archaic–

Emma cut off her own line of thought with a shake of her head. The situation with the council was exactly what she’d been coming here to avoid. She was hardly about to ruin her own evening by thinking about it now. If she got going, she knew she’d only end up stewing about it for hours and that was not what she wanted out of tonight.

She glanced at herself in the mirror again, pushing a strand of auburn hair from her bobbed wig back behind her ear and straightening the square black frames on her glasses (a relic from her life before contacts). Happy with what she saw, she grinned widely at herself. She was under no illusions as to what would happen when her Cadre guards discovered her missing from the palace. No doubt they’d assume she was at Two Wolves and follow her here. It’s not like it was the first time she’d come here after all. Her parents were (relatively) at peace with her choice of “escape” location, and she always was careful enough to wear a different disguise each visit – though usually, she did bring her guards with her.

But, she’d reasoned with herself as she’d slipped out of the palace unseen, even if she hadn’t brought Humbert and Dunbroch with her, it’s not like Two Wolves wasn’t known as an off-duty Cadre hang out. Surely she’d be safe enough there – and she really needed out of the palace for just a night.

After fussing with the set of her wig a bit more, Emma was finally satisfied that she looked innocuous enough and left the ladies’ room. Entering the tavern’s main room, she immediately spotted Ruby behind the bar and moved to take a seat at the far end – the dark, weathered wooden bar-top curved around there to meet the wall, creating a cozy little nook where Emma hoped she wouldn’t be overly bothered.

Ruby finished with her current customer and headed in Emma’s direction. “Heya, so what can I get–“ the question died on Ruby’s lips as she caught sight of Emma. Narrowing her eyes and darting a furtive glance around the room, she hissed “Emma?!” almost under her breath. “That is you, isn’t it?”

Emma nodded, grinning back at the woman she’d come to consider a true friend over the last several years. “Yep,” she replied brightly. “Though I really do hope no one else will be able to figure it out so easily.”

Ruby shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “You look completely different with that hair. It was just…the glasses, I think. You’ve used them before with a different wig and they looked a bit familiar. But I’m probably the only one who would pick up on that.”

“Hopefully you’re right,” Emma sighed. “I really can’t deal with my cover being blown tonight.”

“Uh oh…that doesn’t sound good. Everything okay?”

“Not really.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Ruby asked, a concerned frown stealing across her face.

“Not really.”

Her friend laughed at that. “Understood,” she replied. “Let me get you something to ease your troubles then. What’ll it be?”

She ordered a glass of rum – something she’d picked up a fondness for a few years ago, much to her mother’s chagrin – and settled in, spending the next hour or so chatting with Ruby when the other woman didn’t need to take care of her other customers. She also got into a spirited, yet good-natured political debate with some of the local regulars – thankfully none of whom recognized her – pleased to find that she held her own even when the discussion delved into some of the more intricately nuanced topics.

This had been exactly what she’d needed tonight. A chance to get away and just be Emma, not a princess, not someone who had to weigh and consider each and every action against some grand standard of courtly behavior. Honestly, she loved her family, and she knew she was incredibly privileged to live the life she led – but there were times when it just felt like no one truly knew the real person she was underneath her title.

Emma just wanted to be seen.

No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than she became aware of a presence settling onto the barstool a couple of seats to her left. Ruby came over to drop off Emma’s second rum and take the newcomer’s order. Before she moved back towards the other end of the bar, she caught Emma’s eye and gave a slight nod in the direction of the stranger, a wicked grin curling her mouth.

When Ruby got that look, it usually spelled trouble – and as much as Emma might want to cut loose and spend a night free from the constraints of her royal duties, she still knew that there was a line that she simply could not cross.

At least not anymore, she thought. She might have been more reckless when she’d been younger, but she’d learned long ago – the hard way – that there were certain things, normal-people things, that simply weren’t in the cards for her.

Getting pulled into one of Ruby Lucas’ madcap adventures definitely qualified as one of those things.

She’d just made her mind up to take her drink over to a quiet table in the opposite corner of the tavern and leave the end of the bar in possession of the new arrival, but she made the mistake of looking in his direction as she moved to stand up.

Sitting next to her, with nothing but one empty barstool in between them, was – quite simply – the most unfairly attractive man Emma had ever seen in her life.

It’s like the universe must be laughing at me, she thought to herself grumpily. Dropping someone who looks like that in my path when there’s no way I can do anything about it. Or, at least, no way that I should.

He was dark-haired, with a slightly lighter scruff dusted along his sharp jawline. From where she sat, it wasn’t hard to discern his broad shoulders, leanly muscled arms, or narrowly tapering waist. His eyebrows seemed to dance expressively along his forehead when he turned to face her, and they hovered over what had to be the mostly unfairly blue pair of eyes Emma had ever seen.

“Lass?” the stranger asked softly. His voice bore the lilting accent typical of those from Misthaven’s southern coastal region. “Are you quite alright?”

Shit!

She must have been staring when he’d looked in her direction. Moving to pick up her drink and take a sip to distract herself, her hand fumbled slightly and the tumbler toppled over, sending rum rippling across the ancient bar-top.

“Dammit,” she muttered, before looking back up at him. “Oh, yeah…yes. I’m fine – just…”

“Here,” he offered, sliding over to sit on the barstool directly next to her and handing her his napkin to help mop up the spill. “You sure you’re alright?” he asked again, his voice filled with more concern than she would’ve thought possible considering they’d literally just met and she didn’t even know his name – and he couldn’t come to know hers.

Not her real one, at least.

She shrugged, looking away from him and concentrating on swiping at the alcohol that had finally stopped spreading and now lay in a thin sheen over the bar top. “Mostly,” she murmured. “I guess I’m just having one of those days, you know?”

He chuckled, and she glanced up to see an understanding grin work its way across his face as he nodded. “Aye, I can sympathize. I feel like I’ve been having one of those days for most of the past month.”

“Oh?” she asked, even as she mentally scolded herself for prolonging the conversation. She knew she should just cut things off – find a quick, polite way to excuse herself, pay up and say good night to Ruby, and make her way back to the palace. If she did that, maybe she’d even make it back before her Cadre guards made it here tonight. But she couldn’t seem to help herself – something about this stranger captivated her.

It wasn’t just his obviously good looks, either – he had a quiet earnestness about him. That, coupled with the fact that he hadn’t immediately tried to hit on her – at least not overtly – made her want to stay in his orbit at least a little bit longer.

“Mm,” he nodded, though Emma had almost forgotten she’d asked him a question. “I moved to the city at the start of the month for…a new position with a heavier workload. I knew it was going to be different, but let’s just say it’s been more of an adjustment than I was expecting.”

She noted the slight pause partway through the stranger’s answer, but when she caught his gaze, he was looking at her with nothing but sincerity. Emma had always had a sixth sense as to when people were being untruthful – her parents and brother always teasingly called it her “superpower,” but it had rarely steered her wrong. Her instincts about people were usually pretty spot on, and this guy, whoever he was, didn’t ring any alarm bells for her.

“That sounds like a lot to take on all at once,” she said sympathetically. “I hope it’s been worth it…” she trailed off, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

He caught on quickly and supplied his name at last. “Killian,” he said with another smile. “And yes, so far it has been…” he said, tilting his head in her direction, clearly waiting for her to reciprocate with her name.

“Anna,” she murmured, hoping if she lied softly it somehow wouldn’t feel as bad as she feared it would. It did though. Emma hated being lied to, and she really hated doing it to someone else – but she really didn’t see any other way to stay there and keep talking to Killian. Which, apparently, is something I really want to do, she realized suddenly.

“Anna,” he repeated, the syllables sounding lovely as they rolled off his tongue, yet making her stomach twist all the same with their falseness. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She smiled at that, small but genuine. “You too, Killian,” she said, only slightly surprised to discover how much she meant it.

With that, they fell into an easy conversation – or, at least, as easy a conversation as Emma could have with anyone who didn’t know her real identity. But unlike the political discussion she’d been having with the locals earlier in the evening, the longer she spent talking with Killian, the more she wished she could tell him who she was.

Just when she was thinking that she really had to find a way to extricate herself and sneak back home, marveling that she still hadn’t seen any sign of the Cadre, her luck ran out. Killian was in the middle of a rather absurdly charming story of some childhood shenanigans involving him, his older brother, and a stray dog they’d smuggled home and tried to hide from their parents – but just as he was reaching the heart of the story, Emma caught a flash of red hair over his left shoulder.

It could have been someone else – Lieutenant Dunbroch wasn’t the only person in Spero with bright red hair, not by a long shot – but considering the speed with which said hair’s owner was moving, and the taller figure that had slipped inside after her and lingered in the shadows near the front door, the odds were good that she and Lieutenant Humbert had finally caught up to her.

Keeping her attention on Killian, Emma held out her hand where he couldn’t see it and signaled for Lieutenant Dunbroch to stop. She knew the other woman would no doubt be extremely irritated, but she hoped that she would at least give Emma a moment to say goodbye to Killian without giving away her identity.

“-and then he licked Mum’s nose and cuddled right up to her and she just…melted,” Killian said, huffing out a laugh. “In the end, the joke was on Liam and me – that blasted dog loved her more’n either of us.”

Emma chuckled softly. “Adorable, but apparently fickle,” she teased, before signaling to Ruby to put all of her and Killian’s drinks on her ongoing tab and shifting to stand. She paused for a moment, unsure how to extricate herself smoothly – looking over at Lieutenant Dunbroch, she estimated that she had mere moments before her guard broke up the conversation. The other woman would never cause any scene that would attract more attention Emma’s way, but the Lieutenant would undoubtedly take a much blunter approach to ending Emma’s conversation with Killian than she’d prefer.

While she’d been lost in her thoughts, Killian’s gaze flicked over her, landing on her face. He seemed to notice that she was preparing to leave, and reached out to lay his hand over her free one where it still lay on the bar. “You’re leaving, lass?”

She returned his gaze, a feeling of true regret washing through her. It was something she’d not expected when she’d first met him, thinking him then to be just a handsome stranger – someone good to waste an hour in a bar with, but that’s all. But the conversation they’d fallen into over the course of the evening had shown her that there was much more to him than met the eye.

He was kind, smart, funny, and opinionated – and, she realized with a start, he was shockingly good at putting her at ease. Once they’d started talking, she’d barely given a thought to getting back to the palace or worrying about the Cadre catching up to her. She’d even forgotten about the matter that had originally driven her outside the palace walls that evening.

That’s dangerous, she thought. I can’t afford to be unfocused right now.

Not that Killian knew anything about that – not with the tale she’d spun him of being a scholarship student at the University of Spero, in the capital city from her home in the far northern reaches of the country. And not that he’ll get a chance to know, either – it’s not like I’ll ever see him again.

“Yes, uh…sorry, yeah. I have to go,” she murmured, sliding her fingers out from underneath his, a wave of longing washing over her as the heat of his hand leeched from hers. She ducked her head down and avoided his eyes, afraid of what she might find there, glancing instead at Lieutenant Dunbroch out of the corner of her eye. “I’ve got, um, an early morning tomorrow,” she said. It wasn’t a total lie – it was just that she would be spending yet another day in a rotation of royal duties, which she found beyond mind-numbing, rather than in academic arguments with some university professor, which is no doubt closer to the assumptions Killian must have been making about her plans for the following day.

“I understand, Anna,” he said with a refreshing sincerity. “In fact, I have a rather early one myself – didn’t realize it had gotten so late. It was just very easy to talk to you,” he said, biting his lip after the words escaped. Emma smiled to herself – his slightly flustered reaction was actually really adorable.

And that kind of thinking is even more dangerous.

Emma saw Lieutenant Dunbroch take a step in her direction and knew she had to do something now if she had any hope at all of salvaging a smooth exit. She stepped to the side, putting a bit more space in between her and where Killian sat. “I had a great time too,” she said honestly. “I just have to go-”

“Can I see you again?” he interjected, standing and taking a step forward into her space. She stiffened in surprise – wanting to say yes but knowing it would be playing with fire. Killian seemed to mistake her shock for disinterest though, as his face fell slightly and he started to backtrack. “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped, I just thought that-”

“Yes,” she breathed. It seemed as though it was her turn to shock him, if the dazed smile spreading across his face were any indication.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she affirmed, feeling her own smile get bigger. “When?”

“Uhm,” He blinked for a moment, as if still startled that she’d agreed, which Emma found just as adorable as his earlier flustered state. “I hate to wait this long, but a week from tonight? Work is going to make the rest of this week kind of impossible, I’m afraid.”

Emma internally breathed a sigh of relief. A week would give her time to figure out exactly how she was going to get away with sneaking out of the palace again so soon after this adventure. “That’s okay. A week is perfect. I’ll meet you here? Maybe at seven?”

He nodded. “Sounds perfect, lass.”

“Great, I’ll see you then,” she flashed him a bright smile and turned away before she could say or do anything else impulsive, like kiss him goodbye or something. She thought she heard him call after her as she walked away, but by that point she was bypassing the spot where Lieutenant Dunbroch was waiting, the other woman falling into step behind her, and her attention shifted to planning out how to get out of the trouble she’d be in for slipping away from her guards for the evening.

Still, she thought, it was definitely worth it.

-/-

“Lass! Anna! I don’t have your number!” Killian called after the retreating figure of the woman who’d enchanted him since he’d sat down next to her earlier that evening. Unfortunately, she must not have heard him over the music and chatter of other patrons that filled the tavern because she kept on moving, never breaking stride.

The fleeting thought entered his head that maybe she hadn’t actually been serious when she’d agreed to see him again, and that maybe now she was just trying to put as much distance between them as possible. But he didn’t want to believe it – the connection between them that night had felt so easy, so natural, so real. He couldn’t believe that it had been one sided.

He sighed, sinking back down on his barstool and running a hand through his hair. There was nothing for it – he’d just have to show up at Two Wolves next week and hope that she’d be there. He’d hated having to ask her to wait that long, but in Cadre training, he and his fellow Initiates only received one night off each week – there was nothing else he could have done if he’d wanted to see her again. And he definitely did.

Resolving to put the uncertainty over whether he’d really see Anna again out of his mind and focus on his training for the next week, he moved to flag down the bartender so that he could pay and get back to base. She came over but waved him off when he tried to settle his bill. “Already taken care of,” she said with a wicked grin. “By your lady friend there,” she gestured to the seat where Anna had been with a flourish. “Thought you knew.”

Killian shook his head slowly, putting his wallet away as the brunette sauntered back down to the other end of the bar, not waiting for him to respond. He felt a grin pull at the corners of his mouth. Suddenly, it seemed like there was a much better chance that Anna would show up next week.

-/-

Emma fidgeted in her seat, twisting the hem of her sweater absently between her fingers as she tried – with little success – to pay attention to Elsa, her private secretary, as the other woman ran through the calendar of Emma’s upcoming public appearances and social obligations. Though she knew it was expected of her to absorb as much of this information as possible and engage in making decisions about how she would participate in each event, she just couldn’t seem to focus today.

If she were being honest, for the last three days it had been a struggle to concentrate on her royal duties – she found herself staring off into space more often than not, having an unusual amount of trouble banishing a certain pair of blue eyes and a deep, rich laugh from her memory.

It was ridiculous – she should never have gone to Two Wolves in the first place, and she certainly shouldn’t have gotten into such a deeply engaging conversation with someone she’d never met before, and she absolutely should not have agreed to see him again.

But…she had done all of those things.

Moreover, she was actually plotting ways to follow through on her promise to meet Killian again without arousing suspicion from her Cadre guards – or, worse, her family.

Thankfully, the guard detail changed every week, and Lieutenants Dunbroch and Humbert had already handed off to Lieutenant MacIntosh and Flight Lieutenant Dulac. Though the Cadre members of course informed each other routinely of any issues with their royal charges, Emma hoped that the change of guards would at least give her more of a chance to elude them when the time came. Surely, they wouldn’t expect her to sneak out two weeks in a row – whenever she’d had one of her “normal Emma” nights in the past, they had been spaced months and months apart.

She’d never dared to be so brazen before, and she wasn’t quite sure why she was risking it now.

There was just something about Killian she couldn’t shake.

More to the point, she didn’t want to.

Emma was pulled from her thoughts by the noise of a throat clearing, and from the tone of the sound, it wasn’t the first time. She looked up, a sheepish expression on her face, to see Elsa staring at her, one eyebrow arched inquisitively. “I’m sorry, your highness. Would you prefer to resume at another time?” Her words were proper and correct, but her tone was slightly pointed, as though there were something she wanted to say but was holding herself back.

It was a more appropriate tack for a friend to have taken, rather than an employee, but Emma never had been very good about keeping firm boundaries between herself and her staff. She’d always treated them more like friends and colleagues than employees, and encouraged them to do the same. (Out of public view, at least – her parents took a similar stance in private but of course royal propriety had to be observed in front of the masses).

“Oh…no,” she said, shaking her head in an attempt to dismiss the last of her wandering thoughts. “I know I drifted a bit there, but I promise I’m with you. Where were we?”

Elsa smiled sympathetically at her. “The ribbon cutting for the new equestrian center in Norton on Friday, followed by the christening of the Royal Navy’s new ship in Fair Isle Bay Saturday morning.” Emma sighed and, while she didn’t exactly roll her eyes, something of her displeasure must have shown in her expression because Elsa chuckled softly. “I know how you feel about these events, your highness. But you know that-”

“It’s all part of my duties,” Emma cut in. “Yes, I do. I just wish that sometimes those duties could include something more meaningful than standing around in a pretty dress and waving at the crowd as a ribbon is snipped or a bottle of champagne is flung against a ship. I want to do something with my life. What good is the power my position grants me if I can’t do anything useful with it?!”

Elsa looked at her like she didn’t quite know what to say. This was a conversation they’d had often enough since Elsa had become her private secretary, but they’d pretty much exhausted the topic long ago. Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry,” she said, her tone softening. “None of this is your fault…I just. The Privy Council has been especially tiresome recently.”

“Ah,” Elsa’s expression morphed from slightly shocked into something much more understanding. “Minister Gold still harping on the same old things?”

Emma nodded, slumping down in her chair and leaning her head back against the overstuffed upholstery. “With a few new bits,” she replied. “He’s still very much of the opinion that my parents wasted both Misthaven’s time and resources by allowing me to go to college, let alone grad school, and that my efforts would have been far better spent courting the attentions of one of Europe’s eligible princelings. In the last council meeting, he actually said that if I were so bound and determined to make a contribution to Misthaven’s future, I ought to speed up the husband-hunt so that I could get down to the business of producing the next heir. He didn’t actually add the phrase ‘before you’re no longer of child-bearing years’ but the meaning was clearly implied.”

Elsa looked aghast. “He’s a pig,” she declared (triggering a surprised snort of laughter from Emma), before continuing. “Besides, you’re the next heir. Has he somehow forgotten that?”

“Oh no,” Emma replied, the edge in her tone belying the false brightness of her words. “That’s the fun new twist to his ravings. He’s putting a bill before the council promoting the revocation of the reformed succession laws. He’d have it so that he’d reduce my father’s standing due to his so-called ‘common’ birth status, and bump Leo up the chain – until and unless I had any male children.”

“But, but, but,” Elsa sputtered. “There’s just so much wrong with that, I don’t even know where to begin!”

“Trust me, I know,” Emma sighed as Elsa started to pace back and forth. “But I doubt that pointing out his logical flaws would slow Gold down.”

Elsa’s gaze snapped up to meet hers. “But your father isn’t of common birth! He was a Prince of Glowerhaven-”

“A title used only ceremonially for the past century, despite its connection to Glowerhaven’s ancient royal house,” Emma pointed out.

“And Leo’s eight! Even if Gold succeeded, your brother wouldn’t be of age for another thirteen years – what’s the country supposed to do in the meantime? Wait?!” Elsa was working herself up into a state the likes of which Emma had rarely seen from the usually cool and composed blonde. “These laws have been on the books for nearly thirty years! He cannot possibly think that he’ll get this out of the council, much less to the floor of the parliament.”

Emma laughed, but it was a short, dry sound. “No, not even he’s that crazy – but he’s plotting something. I just don’t know what.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is too obvious. You said it – it’s not something that will pass the council’s vote, and the parliament will never even see this bill. But before it’s all over, the news of his ideas will leak out and he’ll be able to create enough of a controversy that public opinion will be whipped up and debating it all for months. He then gets to back off and make his real play while everyone is distracted with the succession issue, even though that’s just white noise.”

Understanding dawned on Elsa’s face. “But you don’t know what it is he really wants,” she replied. It wasn’t a question.

“Not a clue,” Emma said, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. “But whatever it is, it won’t be good.”

-/-

All things considered, she really shouldn’t have gone back to Two Wolves the next week to meet Killian.

The situation with Minister Gold continued to be tense, and Emma’s parents hadn’t exactly been thrilled when her Cadre guards had reported her previous week’s adventure. But despite spending most of the week twisted with indecision over the matter, she found herself slipping out of the castle yet again the following Monday evening, heading for the stables.

Her auburn wig and glasses were tucked into a small satchel that bounced at her hip. She’d slip them on once she was behind the stable and before she scrambled over the wall separating the palace grounds from the quiet road that ran in one direction towards the forest and the other down into Spero.

She really shouldn’t have gone, but when she got to the tavern and caught sight of Killian’s face – he didn’t see her at first and she spied him scratching nervously behind his right ear before checking his watch and glancing around – she knew she’d made the right decision. The brilliant smile that bloomed across his features when he caught sight of her didn’t hurt either.

By the time the end of the evening rolled around, they’d spent several hours wandering hand in hand through a street carnival in the heart of downtown and sitting and talking over coffee and pastry at an out of the way café Killian had spotted. The conversation had flowed easily between them, as had the teasing and laughter, and every moment made Emma more and more certain she wanted to see him again, damn all the risks.

When he walked her back to the spot where they’d met earlier in the evening and pressed lingering kisses first to the ridge of her knuckles and then to the inside of her left wrist, she was absolutely sure of it.

Pressing up on her tiptoes and gripping his shoulder for balance, she leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Give me your phone.” He handed it over with a quirk of his eyebrow and she programmed her actual, private number into it and sent herself a text before she could think better of her actions. Brushing a whisper of a kiss along his jawline, she pressed the phone back into his hand and stepped back. “I had a great time, Killian.”

“Me too, lass,” he breathed, looking at her with a kind of intense wonder that made his eyes seem lit from within.

Emma had the sneaking suspicion she was looking at him in much the same way, but she also needed to take a literal and metaphorical breath – this was all rather a lot to process – and she really needed to get back to the palace before she was missed. (She was kind of marveling at the fact that her guard detail hadn’t caught up to her tonight – although she supposed it was because they’d moved around so much at the street fair that they’d been hard to find, especially if the Cadre would have put their focus on Two Wolves. Still, she wasn’t going to take her luck for granted – the last thing she needed was another lecture from this week’s detail about the perils of sneaking out).

“I’d better get going,” she murmured, glancing up to find him still gazing at her with that semi-awestruck expression. “But, uh, text me, yeah?”

He smiled slowly, and leaned closer, brushing a soft kiss against her cheek. “You can bet on it, love,” he whispered as he drew back.

Emma smiled all the way back to the palace.

Neither of them took any notice of the camera snapping photos from the shadowy corner across the street.

-/-

The sun shone brightly and the sky was an endless blue expanse, broken only rarely by the puffiest white clouds. A cool breeze blew inland off of the water, and off in the distance – perhaps on one of the public beaches further down the coast – several kites in an array of vibrant colors bobbed and wove their way through the air.

In short, it was a perfect day – made even more so by the warm weight of Anna’s head where it rested against his shoulder. They were sitting on a blanket on a grassy hill overlooking the bay, sharing the remains of a picnic lunch he’d brought. When he’d texted her earlier in the week to propose their next meeting (Or were these, officially, dates by this point? Killian knew what he wanted them to be, but still wasn’t completely sure of what Anna was thinking), he’d suggested doing something a bit different and had been thrilled when she’d seemed excited about a mini-break to the seaside.

He’d met her at the train station closest to Two Wolves at mid-morning and they’d spent the railway journey once again in companionable conversation – with the notable addition of a bit of hand-holding and, for the latter part of the ride, Killian’s arm slung round her shoulders. They’d played at sight-seeing as the Misthaven countryside had slipped by the windows – though, he noted, they were both fairly well versed with the route. It made sense for him, having spent most of the years of his naval training and service based in Fair Isle Bay, but he made a mental note to ask Anna later if she’d spent much time by the coast, given her northern upbringing.

They’d arrived at the coast just before noon, spending the first hour or so poking into the little shops up and down the boardwalk of one of the small villages not too far from the naval base. He knew he was taking a risk bringing her here – anyone from his old detail who was off-base on liberty could spot him. That wouldn’t please his Cadre training officer one bit, given that Cadre members weren’t meant to broadcast their status as such – it was one of the first things that was drilled into every Initiate during boot camp.

(It was part of the reason why the newspapers only published the Initiates’ rank, first initials, and last name when the new Cadre was announced – and didn’t use any photos. From the point they entered Cadre boot camp, new Initiates were meant to keep as low a profile as possible – bringing a date (if that is what this was) to the Royal Navy’s backyard was just tempting fate. But Killian had to show her the coast – it was so much a part of him, of who he was. He needed to share such an intrinsic part of him with this woman who was – with startling rapidity – coming to mean a great deal to him).

After having some ice cream at a quaint little place on the edge of the town – Anna’d bargained quite convincingly with him that they should get dessert before they had their lunch – Killian beckoned Anna to follow him up one of the public walking trails that snaked over the low hills separating the town from the beaches and the coastline proper.

They’d found a relatively flat spot with a brilliant view of the water that wasn’t too far off the path, but was sheltered enough for a bit of privacy, and had set about enjoying their lunch. Now, bellies full and conversation – for the moment – exhausted, they were simply enjoying the moment. Sitting together, enjoying the sunshine and the breeze. Every time the wind shifted in a particular direction, Killian smelled the enticing apple and cinnamon scent of Anna’s shampoo over the salt in the sea air. He curled his arm around her shoulders again and tugged her ever-so-slightly closer. She hummed in contentment and nestled ever further into him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He wasn’t quite sure how this had happened – wasn’t even sure exactly what to call what they were doing – but Killian had never expected to find anyone like Anna when he’d gone to Spero for Cadre boot camp. She was passionate, brilliant, funny, and could argue politics with him until they both needed to catch their breath. She challenged him, and seemed to delight in their verbal sparring matches as much as he did – but that was far from all. When she spoke of her studies, and her desire to help those who were less fortunate in life, her compassion shone so brightly it nearly took Killian’s breath away.

Not to mention she was beautiful – her physical attributes were…captivating…and he couldn’t pretend they’d gone unnoticed – but her gently dimpled cheeks, alabaster skin, deep green eyes, and lustrous auburn hair meant less to him than the beauty he could see in her heart.

“I wish I could have this all the time,” she murmured, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

“Hmm?” Killian hummed, pulling himself out of his wandering thoughts and tilting his head so that he could look down at her.

She peered up at him, blinking slowly as if she’d been nearly on the brink of falling asleep on his shoulder. “This…this kind of day. It’s so peaceful, and calm…and just…real.”

He chuckled at her turn of phrase. “D’you have many days that aren’t real, then?”

She huffed out a dry laugh. “You’d be surprised,” she muttered. He waited for her to explain, and after a moment she shrugged. “It’s just…a lot of the time, I feel like I’m not fulfilling my…true purpose, I guess. Or, well…I’m following the path that was laid out for me, and I don’t really have a lot of input into how to make it a better path. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember. D’you know what I mean?”

Her words make him think of his own youth, and the choices – or lack thereof – that had been offered to him and Liam. Sitting up a little more fully, he looked away from her, out over the water, and began talking. “My Mum died when I was barely ten, Da left a year later – couldn’t hack tryin’ t’raise two boys on his own. Liam – my brother – worked and scraped and saved and did everything he could to give us a better chance-”

“Killian, you don’t have to-” Anna tried to cut in.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. “I want to.” He took a deep breath in and then let it out slowly. “He worked, he got into the Royal Naval Academy, and then when I was old enough, I followed him. I’d follow him anywhere – he saved me when our family fell apart – and I really have come to love the Navy. I love the sea, and the structure and purpose of the work is fulfilling…”

“But?” this time Anna prompted him when he trailed off.

“But,” he said, glancing back at her, smiling genuinely at the concern he saw on her face. “Much as I’ve come to adapt to it and find meaning in it, it wasn’t my own dream. It was really Liam’s. But it’s where I’ve found myself, and I’ve tried to make the most of it that I can – I’ve found ways to make that dream mine and I work hard at making it meaningful to me every day. I’ve found parts of it that I can latch on to and really connect with. Then, my finding purpose in it makes it possible to do something meaningful for others.”

“And does that work? Is it enough for you?” she asked him, a genuine curiosity flickering over her features.

He caught her gaze and held it earnestly. “I think so,” he said honestly. “Some days, I feel more connected, more purposeful, than others, if I’m being honest. But even on the days when I feel like I might be slacking off on the whole ‘fulfilling my maximum potential’ thing, I do feel like I’m making a positive difference for my country,” he ducked his head, feeling a flicker of embarrassment. “Sorry, that sounded a bit overly patriotic and rah-rah, I know.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head emphatically. “It makes a lot of sense. Thank you for sharing all that with me,” she said with an earnestness that made him smile softly at her.

“It was my pleasure, love,” he murmured. “I guess I’m just trying to say that even if you don’t have a lot of options in terms of choosing the actual direction your life is headed in right now, you still have the power to shape the path that lies ahead. You still have choices you can make and ways you can focus on the things that are important to you. You just have to be patient – pick your moments and your metaphorical battles and before you know it, you’ll have wrestled this challenge into submission and be on to conquer the next one.”

She chuckled wryly. “You really think so?”

“Aye,” He replied. “I know I’ve not known you long, Anna, but as it stands I think you’re brilliant, and believe you can accomplish anything you set your mind to. To hell with anyone who says you can’t.”

Her eyes flicked up to his and he was caught in the fiery determination he saw in her gaze. Before he could say anything else – in fact, before he’d really processed what was happening – she’d circled one arm further around his waist and her other hand had slid into the hair at the nape of his neck and she’d pulled him into a kiss that rivaled any he’d ever had in its sheer intensity.

Cliched as it might have sounded, time seemed to stop in that moment.

The muted sounds of the seashore – gulls crying in the distance, waves breaking on the beach far below them, the far off strains of another tourist’s radio playing what Killian was fairly sure was an Ed Sheeran song – melted away the instant Anna’s lips met his. His own arms wound around her back, pulling her closer until she was practically in his lap – a move that pulled a low moan from her that Killian felt as much as he heard it.

He turned his head, the tip of his nose pressing into the apple of her cheek as he deepened the kiss.  She mirrored him, parting her lips readily and making a happy little noise Killian swore he’d remember the rest of his life when his tongue darted inside and curled around her own. They spent endless minutes getting progressively lost in each other – hands wandering, breath stuttering, hips shifting restlessly – until Anna finally pulled back, a ragged chuckle tumbling from her lips as Killian instinctively followed her movements. “Wow,” she breathed.

“I heartily agree, love,” he mumbled, his eyes dropping shut as he leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers. “Not that I’m complaining in any way – but what brought that on?”

He could hear the smile in her voice when she replied. “You believed in me, Killian…Killian…Killian?”

“Killian!”

He sat bolt upright in his chair as his attention snapped back to the present moment and he realized Anna was nowhere to be seen and he wasn’t on a mini-holiday to the coast. Rather, he was in one of the Cadre’s briefing rooms and the person who’d been calling him – for quite some time judging by her slightly irritated yet concerned expression – was one of his fellow Initiates. “Lieutenant French…er, Belle,” he said, “I’m sorry. I must have been lost in thought.”

Belle just arched an amused eyebrow at him and moved past him to take the seat next to him. “I’ll say,” she replied dryly. “You were staring off into space when I came in – you’re just lucky the rest of the group is running late. Is everything alright?”

Killian nodded sheepishly. “Yes…more than, actually.” He hesitated for a moment, wondering if – without getting into the more personal details – he could share any of his happiness with Belle. Since the beginning of boot camp, they’d been paired together on several training exercises and instructional projects. Their training officers had indicated that they’d been paired because they had complimentary skill sets and aptitudes and would likely be detailed together within the Cadre once boot camp was complete – beyond that, though, Killian had grown genuinely fond of the diminutive yet fierce woman and as she seemed to feel the same about him, a warm friendship had sprung up between them. If he could tell anyone about Anna, he could tell Belle – Liam would likely warn him against getting “distracted” during his training, and what he needed right now was a listening ear, not his brother’s well-meaning but sometimes rigid stance on the rules. “I met someone a couple of weeks ago…”

“Oh really?” she asked, a note of interest coloring her voice. “Must be a really special someone – you were completely somewhere else when I walked in here.”

“She is,” he nodded, unable to keep the smile off his face even though he felt slightly like a teenager talking about his first crush. “I’ve seen her on every off day we’ve had so far, and I can’t stop thinking about her-”

“Clearly,” Belle interjected with a laugh.

“Ha ha…I’m serious, Belle. I feel like I’ve been knocked off my feet by her. I never expected this, much less that it would happen during boot camp – it’s getting harder and harder not to tell her what I really do. I know I can’t,” he rushed to say when Belle looked like she wanted to remind him of the Cadre’s need for secrecy. “But I don’t know how much longer I can go on seeing her and not tell her – it’s a big thing to keep hidden.”

“And you definitely want to keep seeing her?” Belle asked.

Killian shot her a look. “Clearly. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well, you might want to-” Belle began, but was cut off when the rest of their Initiate class began to file into the room, followed by Flight Lieutenant Dulac. She looked over at Killian, chagrined. Later, she mouthed and he nodded.

“Good morning Initiates,” Lieutenant Dulac’s booming voice greeted them. “Thank you all for being so punctual this morning,” he paused to stare pointedly in the direction of another Initiate, Warrant Officer Scarlet, who had barely made it through the door before the class had begun. “Welcome to the beginning of your Surveillance and Reconnaissance unit.”

Killian forced himself to stop thinking about anything but the class, pushing both Anna and his conversation with Belle to the back of his mind as he listened closely to Dulac’s lecture. Of all the officers who were guiding the Initiates’ training, Killian had quickly grown to admire Dulac the most and had gotten a great deal out of any session he led.

“…now, as we see here,” Dulac clicked through several slides in the PowerPoint presentation he was using for this class session until he found the one he wanted, “low-light photography can be a challenge even in this digital age. This photograph,” he gestured to the slide up on the screen, “was taken last week and though you can see Princess Emma quite clearly under the streetlight at the left of the image, her companion is unfortunately cast in shadow and it’s not possible to make out enough of his features for facial rec.”

“Not even with enhancement, sir?” one of the other Initiates – Locksley, an army Captain Killian had come to like and respect – asked from the far corner of the room.

Dulac shook his head. “No. The officer doing the recon work here was, by necessity, too far away to get a shot that would give us the right angle.”

“Well he shoulda got closer then, shouldn’t he?” this was from Scarlet, before Locksley elbowed him in an attempt to keep him quiet.

Dulac kept his cool. “Officer Scarlet, while it would have been ideal to get closer, one also must think about whether one has adequate cover to do so – it does no good to get the right photo and reveal yourself in the process. Showing that you are shadowing one of the royal family too closely tips off onlookers to the fact that they are the royal family, which immediately increases the dangers – especially in situations like this where the princess has ventured out incognito.”

Killian’s head snapped around at that, and, for this first time, he took a good look at the photo in Lieutenant Dulac’s slide – and all the breath seemed to rush from his body.

He recognized that street, and the tavern in the background.

Moreover, he recognized the man that Dulac said couldn’t be identified. Killian could identify him easily and immediately – because he was the man.

But what didn’t make sense was Dulac’s statement that this was a photo of Princess Emma, because this photo clearly showed his Anna kissing a mystery man on the cheek – you, his brain helpfully supplied – outside Two Wolves a week ago. For a moment, Killian simply stared at the photo, his brain refusing to fully process the information.

When the truth finally clicked in, he realized that he had far bigger problems than having to keep his place in the Cadre a secret from the woman he’d rapidly been falling for – she’d been keeping a far bigger secret of her own.

-/-

“Emma, a word,” her mother’s voice – soft but commanding – came from the other end of the corridor just as Emma was stepping out of her bedroom. She’d not seen her mother standing there and jumped at the unexpected sound of the older woman’s voice.

“God, Mom, don’t do that,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “You nearly scared me to death.”

“I’m sorry,” the queen said, her tone softening a fraction. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but I do need you to come with me.” Without further explanation, she turned on her heel and began walking towards her private offices.

Emma fell into step behind her, as she knew was expected, hurrying to catch up before her mother got too far ahead. “Is everything alright, Mom?” she asked after a few moments of walking in a somewhat stilted silence that was far from their usual easy camaraderie.

Her mother didn’t answer immediately, waiting instead until they’d reached her private offices and slipped inside. The queen shut the door behind them and moved over to her desk before responding. When she did, her words were not at all what Emma was expecting, and they caused the bottom to drop out of her stomach.

“Have you been to Two Wolves recently?” her mother asked, shuffling through a few papers on her desk before looking up at her expectantly.

Emma considered – for the briefest of moments – denying it outright, saying that it must have been someone who looked uncannily like her. But she knew that that wouldn’t hold up – particularly if, as it seemed, Queen Mary-Margaret already knew the answer to the question she was asking. Sinking down into one of the plush guest chairs that were placed in front of the desk, Emma nodded. “Yeah…a couple of times,” she muttered. “But you and Dad have never had a problem with it before.”

Her mother sighed. “We don’t have a problem with it now…not exactly. It’s just…it’s a little careless, Emma. The timing is not ideal.”

She sat up straighter in the chair, a wave of indignance flowing over her. She knew that perhaps she hadn’t made the best choice given the political climate of late – and maybe you’re feeling a bit defensive about that, she thought to herself – but she didn’t think it warranted her mother treating her quite so much like a child. “It’s not like I went out clubbing and got blitzed – Two Wolves is just about the safest place I could go, Mom. That’s been true since you were going there when you were my age,” she finished, crossing her arms over her chest and staring up at her mother with determination and a small touch of defiance. She hoped her mother didn’t have any further information about her evenings at the tavern – but just in case, deflecting her attention couldn’t hurt.

“My youthful indiscretions, such as they may be, aren’t the issue right now Emma,” her mother replied calmly, taking a seat behind her desk and sorting through yet another pile of papers until she pulled out a slim manila folder. “You know that this kind of behavior is against protocol – and while your father and I might have been inclined to turn a blind eye in the past-”

“So did Grandma, thankfully, or you might not have met Dad and Leo and I wouldn’t be here right now,” Emma cut in, refusing to feel bad about taking just a small bit of precious time for herself when her mother had done exactly the same thing when she was young.

“Be that as it may,” her mother carried on almost as if Emma hadn’t spoken. “We’ve got to enforce every bit of protocol right now. With Minister Gold picking at us and scrutinizing every choice the monarchy makes we can’t afford to give him any more ammunition for his schemes. So for a while, I am going to need you to put a halt to this kind of adventure,” she said briskly, opening the folder and pushing it across the desk towards Emma. “And, whoever this may be,” she gestured in the direction of the contents of the folder, “it would be best if you ended it for the time being…at least.”

The sinking feeling that had invaded Emma’s stomach at the beginning of the conversation only got worse – it now felt as though her heart were somehow simultaneously in her throat and on the floor somewhere near her shoes. Even before she looked where her mother had pointed, she had a good idea of what she’d see.

Closing her eyes in resignation, she sighed. It was completely stupid of me to think I wasn’t followed that second night. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Even as she reprimanded herself for not suspecting her Cadre guards had caught up and surveilled her on her return trip to the tavern, she bristled at the constraints her royal duties were once again placing on her.

(But all the same, she repeatedly and silently thanked whatever divine influence had kept them hidden – both from photographers and that week’s Cadre detail – when they’d gone to Fair Isle Bay).

All I’d wanted was something normal. Something just for me. Just for once. Looks like I was just fooling myself – God, I’m an idiot. How did I ever think this was going to work?

As she opened her eyes, they landed on a photo in the manila folder – the image was dark, and a bit blurry. If she had to guess, she’d say Lieutenant MacIntosh was the photographer – his handiwork was always a bit unfocused when he took long distance shots at night – but whoever had taken them, the photo was clear enough to show her pressing a kiss to Killian’s cheek before bidding him good night.

The only saving grace was that it was nigh on impossible to tell who Killian was, given the angle and distance of the shot. Even if her chances of seeing him were imploding with every minute that went by, she didn’t want him to get drawn into a messy background investigation by the Cadre for getting so close to her or, worse, pulled into the public eye by Misthaven’s rather voracious paparazzi.

“Emma?” her mother prompted, and she realized that she’d been silently staring at the photo for longer than was probably reasonable. She looked up at her mother, catching the older woman’s eye – her mother’s regal mask slipped for a moment and a flicker of understanding and empathy crossed her face. She smiled softly. “Believe it or not, I do understand the predicament I can sense that you find yourself in right now…but you need to end it. Now. Or at least find a way to pause things until Gold has settled down and backed off. Understood?”

Emma took one more lingering glance at the photo, thoughts of bright sun, warm breezes, and comforting embraces running through her mind. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and nodded. “Understood.”

-/-

“You did what?!” Belle’s incredulous question echoed down the long corridor they’d found themselves in after their class had finished. They were tucked at the end, in an alcove, but her voice had risen enough that if someone were passing by, they’d be overheard. He didn’t immediately respond, simply looked at her for a moment, until she seemed to understand that she hadn’t misheard him. Her eyes widened until they looked impossibly large. “Killian, please tell me you’re joking.”

“Sshhhh,” he hissed, making a keep it down gesture with his hands. “In my defense, I didn’t know.”

Belle laughed – it was a sharp sound that seemed to burst from her almost involuntarily. “How could you not know?!”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, not wanting to lash out at one of the only people he felt he could confide in about his predicament. Besides, he understood. If he were in Belle’s position, he’d probably be reacting the same way to hearing this kind of news. “I’ve only been out with her a few times, and she was wearing a bloody disguise – if you’re not actively expecting someone to be doing something like that, it’s a little hard to catch,” he retorted, not entirely successful at keeping the self-loathing edge out of his tone.

The truth of it was, he realized as he spoke, he’d been very free with his heart and he’d not known the woman he’d thought was Anna for very long. Or very well, apparently, he thought with a touch of bitterness. He was angry at the princess for the deception – and at himself for not seeing through it. Observation and deduction were part of his training – he was supposed to be good at them. What kind of Cadre guard would he make if he got fooled as easily as this?

It’s not the same thing, and you know it, his inner voice tried to reason with him. You weren’t on duty, you were just spending time with someone you cared about and who you thought cared about you. You weren’t expected to be on your guard. He didn’t know if he believed his own reasoning, telling himself that a better officer would always be on his guard – but before he could fall further down the rabbit hole of his own internal debate, he realized that Belle was asking him a question.

“I can see your point,” she said, her tone gentling a bit, though Killian felt he didn’t truly deserve her kindness. “But what are you going to do now that you do know?”

He shook his head and exhaled harshly. “I don’t bloody well know, do I?”

Just then, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it at first, but it continued to go off, buzzing three more times in quick succession. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen and was startled to see four texts from Anna’s number. He let out a noise of surprise and showed Belle the phone. “Interesting timing,” she murmured. When he made no move to open them, she pointed at the phone. “Aren’t you going to read them? They might help you decide what to do.”

He felt like he was moving underwater as he nodded, everything slowing down as he swiped his thumb across the screen and brought up the message string he’d been sharing with Anna. Emma, he mentally corrected. The princess.

Killian, I’m so sorry to be doing this at all, but especially in a text.

I got news very suddenly, a family emergency – I have to go up north for a while.

I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be able to come back. I’ve enjoyed our time together more than you will ever know, but it’s not fair to ask you to wait around for me.

I’ll treasure these few weeks forever…goodbye, Killian.

He stared at his phone, disbelieving this latest turn of events, for so long that Belle finally jerked him back to the present moment with a gentle shove to the shoulder. “Well?” she asked expectantly.

“Here,” he mumbled, thrusting the phone into her hand so she could read the messages for herself. He scrubbed both hands over his face and back into his hair, trying to think of anything but the way that the princess’ fingers had felt as they’d traced the back of his neck, or the warmth of her as her mouth had opened easily under his. He wanted to hold onto the anger he’d felt at her deception, but her texts had reeked of sadness and he couldn’t say he didn’t feel the same.

Despite all the things they’d kept from each other, what they’d felt for each other was real. They’d each seen the truth of the other’s heart underneath everything else – he was sure of it. But he didn’t have any idea what to do about it now. He just felt hollow and tired.

“Well,” Belle said when she finished reading the messages. “I guess that answers that.”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” he agreed.

“It still sucks though,” she said, slipping her arm through his and pulling him down the corridor in the direction of the mess hall. He’d been so engrossed in his revelation and subsequent meltdown he’d not realized they’d almost missed their chance at lunch.

“Yeah, it really does.”

-/-

In the week that had passed since Emma had, effectively, put an end to things with Killian via text, she’d been fairly miserable – and that had been putting it mildly.

The depth of her disappointment had taken her by surprise – she’d only gone on a few dates with him, after all. They’d barely begun to be something, but so abruptly losing even the possibility of figuring out what they could have been still hurt.

Even if you have no idea if you could have made it work once you’d revealed who you were, it still would have been nice to have the chance to figure that out on your own, she thought to herself bitterly. She was angry with Minister Gold for his ridiculous political intrigues and irritated with her mother for bowing – even temporarily – to the pressure he was putting on the monarchy. But most of all, she was upset with herself for putting herself in this position in the first place. She knew better than anyone the pitfalls of opening your heart up too soon.

This isn’t like that, she chastised herself. Killian didn’t turn out to be some foreign diplomat’s secretly skeezy son only looking for a good time with ‘rebellious royalty,’ and he isn’t a self-important Duke who just wanted to use my title to advance his own social status.

As she thought of her unfortunate prior romances – if you could have even called them that – she continued to argue with herself about whether trusting Killian, and starting to have real feelings for him, had been a mistake.

Even if it wasn’t, it doesn’t matter, she realized. It’s not like you’re ever likely to see him again.

After a couple of days of wandering around the palace, thinking over the same internal argument again and again, she decided that the best thing she could possibly do would be to get away for a little while. She decided to go to Glowerhaven. It was north of Misthaven – at least then your messages to Killian would be less of a lie, she thought – and spend a few days at her grandmother Ruth’s country estate. It would do her some good to get away from the city, and she always enjoyed the chance to spend some time with her grandmother in the place where her father had grown up. If anyone could put her current predicament into perspective and give her some much needed good advice, her grandmother would be able to.

With one last thought spared for what might have been, she retreated to her rooms to call her grandmother and pack.

-/-

Killian didn’t think he’d ever been so nervous in his life.

Even when he’d been waiting to find out if he’d gotten into the Naval Academy and if he’d be able to join Liam in the service he’d not been this twisted up inside.

But when the morning of the Cadre Installation Ceremony arrived, and there had been no further word from the Princess after her texts ending the whatever it was that had been brewing between them, Killian realized that he’d stalled for as long as he possibly could on deciding how to handle the little matter of having secretly dated the Crown Princess for a few weeks.

(And snogged the hell out of her on a hillside in Fair Isle Bay, but no one else would learn about that anytime soon – or ever – if he could help it).

When he’d had the realization in the middle of surveillance training that his mysterious “Anna” was actually Princess Emma, his first impulse had been to confess absolutely everything to the officer in command of all Initiates and throw himself on the mercy of his superiors. Belle, however, had convinced him that he should keep quiet about it – at least for the time being. He cast his memory back over the rest of the conversation they’d had that day the week before when everything had gone sideways.

“Listen,” she’d said, a determined look crossing her face. “As far as we know, the only three people who know about this are you, me, and the Princess, correct?”

“Yeah,” Killian nodded, his shoulders slumping as the weight of everything that he’d done settled over him – even though he’d been unaware of “Anna’s” real identity, he still felt a responsibility for what had happened. He should have been more aware, been more on his guard – despite Belle’s protestations to the contrary. “Well, and the entire corps of Cadre Initiates who saw Lieutenant Dulac’s presentation just now,” he continued, a weary resignation creeping into his tone.

“Ah ah ah, no,” Belle said, pointing her finger in his direction with each syllable she uttered. “They know the Princess was with someone – not that it was you.”

“I fail to see how that’s going to help me in the long run,” he retorted. “Despite what Dulac thinks, someone will probably be able to clean up that image enough for facial rec, and even if not, Emma knows and she’s going to have me booted out of the Cadre – if not out of the military altogether – the next instant she lays eyes on me. You want to be entertained by the sight of me being hauled away by the palace guards? Just wait for the Cadre Installation and you’ll see.”

Belle shook her head decisively before he’d even finished speaking. “I don’t think so, Killian. I think you’re reading the situation the wrong way round – she’s not going to want to say anything about it any more than you do.”

Killian wasn’t sure about that – he wasn’t sure about much of anything at the moment – but the stress of the situation was making him blank out on finding a solution, and he trusted Belle. He nodded for her to continue. “Why d’you think that?” he asked, a seed of optimism cautiously taking root in his gut. Belle seemed so certain of everything – he could only hope that that confidence came from some viable insight into how to fix this mess.

She sighed, moving off to his side so that another group of Cadre Initiates could pass by them as they made their way out of the mess hall. She waited until they were out of earshot to turn back to him, diving right back into their conversation as though there had never been a pause. “Because,” she said firmly, “if she did anything to get you kicked out of the Cadre, she’d have to attest to why…and she’s not going to want to admit that she was sneaking out of the palace to run around with a strange man-”

“Oi!”

“-in downtown Spero all the while intentionally trying to evade her guard detail. It would be difficult enough for her to admit to that kind of recklessness under any circumstances, but now? With Minister Gold scrutinizing everything the royal family’s doing – trying to make some case for changing the order of succession or some other nonsense – she’s really going to be following protocol to the letter, and she’s going to want to give off the appearance that she’s always done just exactly that. So…do you see why she wouldn’t say anything about you to anyone?”

After a moment of thought, Killian nodded slowly. It was a slim chance, but it was better than nothing – admitting his entanglement with the Princess would be a sure way to get kicked out of the Cadre, and losing the chance to be part of this elite group was simply not an option. Saying nothing and hoping that Belle’s assessment of the Princess’ mindset was correct was a bit dicey – it didn’t give him the chance to get out ahead of the story if it ever did come out – but he couldn’t see any other way to proceed. At least this way, he’d have a chance of things working out in his favor – a small one, to be sure, but that was better than nothing.

Killian snapped his attention back to the present when a trumpet flourish sounded and the heavy doors at the opposite end of the throne room were pulled open. Queen Mary-Margaret and King David entered, following a few steps behind by Princess Emma. They proceeded to the raised dais at the front of the room and stood facing the row of soldiers and sailors who awaited them – the nine new Cadre Initiates and three training officers – all in their dress uniforms, pressed and polished to a shine.

He knew the precise moment during the installation ceremony when the Princess became aware of him. Her gaze landed on him while her mother was giving a speech of welcome to the group and when their eyes caught, Emma’s widened noticeably and her entire posture went rigid. She looked away almost immediately, and though Killian kept his gaze on her for quite some time – until he was forced to turn his attentions back to the ceremony for their individual inductions into the Cadre – she never looked at him again.

He’d known that this was the likely outcome – in fact, it pointed to Belle’s being right about how the Princess would react to the entire situation – and yet his heart sank. This should have been one of the best days of his career, and, to tell the truth, he was still ecstatic about officially joining the Cadre – but what should have been a purely happy day now had something of a cloud hanging over it. He didn’t know until precisely that moment how much he’d still been hoping that she’d look at him the way she had that day in Fair Isle Bay. The fact that she couldn’t bear to look at him at all made him feel like a knife was twisting in his gut.

If this was how it was going to be, it was going to be a long three years.

-/-

For the next week, they barely saw each other.

After the installation ceremony, Emma’s first guard detail had been a friendly, sandy-haired army captain named Robin Locksley and a quieter, more reserved air force flight lieutenant named Mulan Fa. Emma had breathed an internal sigh of relief when Killian hadn’t been immediately assigned to her detail, though an almost equal pang of disappointment had twisted in her gut.

Make up your mind, Emma – you either want to see him or you don’t. Either you’re angry at him for hiding who he was or you understand since you did the same thing. You miss him or you can’t deal with being around him. Pick a damn feeling and at least try to stick to it, she chastised herself. All this emotional back and forth isn’t getting you anywhere productive, and it’s absolutely exhausting.

But despite giving herself several rather stern pep talks over the course of the past week, she hadn’t been able to figure out what to do about this thing with Killian other than just make herself scarce and avoid him whenever possible. Even though he wasn’t on her personal detail, she still did see other members of the Cadre from time to time in the palace – she simply learned which detail he was on and crossed paths with it as little as possible.

Very mature, Emma. Real leadership material you are if you can’t even take charge of your own love live, barely existent though it is.

Rolling her eyes at her own inner monologue, she stepped out from underneath one of the porticos that ringed a small courtyard on the residence wing of the palace. It was one of her favorite places in the entire royal dwelling because of the fountain and the small row of rosebushes tucked at one end of the neatly trimmed green lawn. They were abloom with a pale pink variety of rose that had some complicated Latin name, but that the people of Misthaven had long ago dubbed “the Middlemist.” They were Emma’s favorite flower, and this spot – part of the palace, but still semi-secluded – was often the place where she’d go to get time alone when she needed to think.

This morning, she was supposed to meet her new detail – since the guard details changed weekly – and then head out for her daily morning run in the royal park. It was something she was really looking forward to – her morning exercise routine was usually the only time she got during the day where she could fully clear her head. Her detail was usually already there when she came to the courtyard, so she was more than a bit surprised not to see anyone when she arrived there that morning.

Checking her watch, she saw that it was only a few minutes past the time when she was meant to meet them, and decided to stretch while she waited. If they weren’t here by the time she finished, she’d have to go and let someone know, but with the new Cadre so recently installed, she didn’t want to have to get anyone in trouble for something so insignificant.

After a few quiet moments of stretching and planning her route for that morning’s run, she heard footsteps and muffled voices at the other end of the portico. She straightened up and glanced in the direction of the noise, and it suddenly became crystal clear why her guard detail had been late that morning.

A petite, dark-haired woman who Emma was fairly sure was an army lieutenant – though she was a bit fuzzy on the woman’s name – stood next to one of the portico’s columns, dressed in running clothes and doing her own stretches. She was – very pointedly – not looking at the other member of Emma’s new detail for the week, but Emma herself couldn’t look away.

It was Killian.

Of course it was Killian.

Because, clearly, the universe hated her and she couldn’t catch a break.

They stood there for a moment, an awkward silence billowing between them, before Emma shook her head as if to clear it. Addressing them both, but looking more directly at the woman, Emma said the first thing that came into her mind. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, “but can you remind me of your name, please? The installation ceremony was a bit of a blur.”

The other woman smiled softly and bobbed her head in a brief nod. “Understood, your highness. Lieutenant Belle French, Royal Misthaven Army, and this,” she gestured to Killian, “is Lieutenant Killian Jones, Misthaven Royal Navy.” Emma’s eyes flicked over to Killian and he nodded at her as well, but unlike when Belle had done it, the motion seemed stiff and slow. He continued to gaze at her intently – the blue of his eyes boring into hers as though he wanted to say something to her, but didn’t quite know the right words to use.

I know exactly how you feel, she thought grimly.

“Are you ready, your highness?” Belle asked, pointing towards the end of the courtyard nearest to the exit they would need to take to get outside of the palace walls and into the royal park.

“Um, yeah…yes, I guess,” Emma replied, before a thought occurred to her. “But why are you both dressed like that?” she pointed towards the workout gear that Belle and Killian were both sporting. “Usually, I run and my detail follows a little bit behind in a golf cart.”

Belle and Killian looked at each other for a moment, before Killian turned back to her, his face serious. “We know…your highness,” he said, and hearing his voice directed at her for the first time in weeks caused a traitorous swooping sensation to spring to life in Emma’s stomach. She tried to tamp it down as she listened to what he was saying. “But Lieutenant French and I thought it might be beneficial to try something a bit different.”

He paused expectantly, and she nodded for him to continue.

“Well, we think we should run with you your highness. One of us out in front and one just behind – it keeps us closer to you, should any threat surface, and lets us respond more quickly. We’ll have means of contacting the rest of the Cadre should there be a need, and, of course, we’ll be armed.”

It made perfect sense – though none of Emma’s previous details had ever taken the time or initiative to think of it. They’d always just used the cart and carried on with the task exactly as it had been done before. She thought about it carefully for a moment. On the one hand, it would be very awkward to go running with Killian (and Belle – her mind supplied helpfully – which could make things even more awkward) after everything that had happened – on the other, if she were being honest, she missed him. Besides, the idea made too much sense to disagree with.

Nodding, she turned and headed for the exit Belle had previously indicated. “Sounds fine to me,” she tossed back over her shoulder in an attempt to keep her inner turmoil over the entire exchange concealed – now is not the time to deal with what happened between us, she reminded herself. She moved quickly, itching to just be outside and underway. “Just try to keep up, okay? I like a certain pace.”

-/-

The first part of the run sped by in uneventful silence.

Belle – the traitor, Killian thought mutinously – had taken the advance position. Her discreet, grey and black patterned running outfit was visible about ten yards ahead of where the princess was keeping a steady, but not punishing, speed. He was close behind the princess, only about three feet back, and he’d been making a valiant effort not to let his eyes skim down to where her leggings clung sinfully to her trim form. It was extremely difficult – in no small part because he remembered what it felt like to hold her, and to have her lithe hips pressed into his as she maneuvered herself closer and urged him to wrap his arms around her more tightly – but instead, he watched her sleek ponytail swing back and forth for a few strides before tearing his attention away to scan the countryside. Nothing seemed amiss, but one could never be too careful – that’s literally why he and Belle were present.

After roughly twenty minutes, though, the princess broke the quiet hush that had fallen between them. Though she was just far enough ahead of him, and had spoken softly enough, that he had a bit of trouble making out what she’d said.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, finally tearing his gaze away from scrutinizing the expanse of low, rolling hills that faded off to their right and speeding up slightly to fall into step beside her.

After a brief pause during which the princess continued to stare straight ahead and Killian began to think he’d hallucinated her ever speaking to him, she repeated herself. “I’d imagine you have questions,” she said, her tone surprisingly matter-of-fact given the situation they’d found themselves in, and he couldn’t help but allow a snort of surprise to escape him.

“I might,” he replied swiftly, trying to keep his tone light, though he felt a bit taken aback that she was actually addressing – even obliquely – what had passed between them over the last several weeks.

“Well, go ahead and ask, then,” she said, a touch of tartness creeping into her voice. “I can feel you staring at the back of my head as we’ve been running – it’s incredibly distracting.”

They continued for the space of a couple of heartbeats in near total silence before he found his voice. She’s giving you an opening – you might not get another one, and you have to know, he told himself while looking off to the other side of the path to examine the area for any unexpected threats. Taking a deep breath, he decided to just start with the thing he was most curious about. “Did you know I was in the Cadre? Did you know who I was?”

He was watching her carefully when she responded. The shake of her head was almost immediate. “No,” she replied, her breaths coming a bit faster as they picked up their pace a bit. “My mother and father always pick the new Cadre Initiates, in consultation with the Privy Council only. The full names aren’t shared with anyone in the palace, not even me, until the installation ceremony.”

Killian thought over the newspaper article that had come out at the start of training, and what he knew of the Cadre’s privacy policy in relation to the general public. It made sense, he just was a bit surprised that the same thing went on inside the palace walls. “I see,” he murmured, pondering what that might imply about the princess’ actions towards him.

“Yeah,” she said, more than a hint of bitterness in her voice. “It’s tradition that only the King, Queen, and council may choose – just another case of clinging to the old ways even though it’s the twenty-first century.”

He couldn’t help it – he chuckled a bit at that. Her fire now reminding him of when he’d thought she was Anna and that day at Fair Isle Bay – her desperation to find her own way, and the intense way she’d looked at him when he’d told her he’d believed in her, were being echoed in the here and now. It was disconcerting, to say the least, to realize that maybe there was some of that spark still between them even though their circumstances had changed so radically since they’d last had time together one on one.

But she seemed to take his laughter the wrong way, looking at him sharply and biting out a question of her own. “How about you? Did you know who I was? Were you thinking that you were so smart, seeing past my disguise and having a bit of fun with the princess when no one else knew?”

Killian felt as if the breath had been knocked from him, but was opening his mouth to answer – though, truth be told, he wasn’t sure what he would have said – when she leveled yet another pointed question at him.

“And if you did know, were you going to…” here she seemed to falter for a moment, but she regrouped, steeling her expression as she turned to look at him. “Were you going to do something with that information?”

He stopped dead in his tracks, partly insulted by the insinuation but even more than that, he was shocked that she could think that he was capable of something like that. They hadn’t spent a lot of time together, it was true, but he’d believed that in that short time they had truly known one another.

Apparently not.

“Your highness, if you are implying that I was intending to blackmail you in some way,” he replied, his words clipped, “I must assure you most vehemently that I was not.” She’d stopped running a moment after he had, and he quickly closed the small distance that had opened up between them. “We might not each have known who the other really was, but I know that what I was starting to feel was real. I had thought – I’d hoped – that you’d felt the same.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open but she said nothing for a long moment. When she finally found her voice, she’d barely breathed a remorseful-sounding “Killian,” before he cut her off. He needed to step away before he completely imploded and said something he’d regret.

“If you’ll excuse me, your highness, since we’ve stopped I’m going to take the opportunity to switch out positions with Lieutenant French. She’ll be with you in a moment and I’ll take point up front until we return to the palace.” He inclined his head automatically – the training to show respect to the royal family still deeply ingrained even though his own personal feelings were in complete turmoil – before stepping away and jogging up to where Belle was waiting.

Though his better sense knew that Emma wouldn’t call after him, it still stung a bit that she didn’t.

-/-

She watched him cover the short distance up the road to where Lieutenant French had paused, unable to hear what they were saying and grateful for the few moments alone – before the other Lieutenant reached her, she needed to have pulled herself together.

What had she been thinking, practically accusing Killian of setting her up for blackmail? He was right – she might not have known everything about him during their short time together, but she did know what kind of person he was, and it wasn’t the sort who would sell someone out for their own gain. He wanted to earn everything he was given, and his code of honor was far too strong. With a sharp pang of longing, she remembered teasing him about what he’d called his “good form” during one of their earlier conversations.

You should have known better, Emma, she chided herself. Though, really, that seems to be true of everything you’ve done lately.

She knew she was careful, guarded – the paparazzi had dubbed her Misthaven’s “Prickly Princess” for her notoriously tough attitude – but she’d had to be. One mistake, and the court of public opinion would eat her alive, and by extension, have ammunition to use against her family – which could then be picked up by opposition politicians and used to leverage anti-royal sentiment in the parliament and Privy Council.

She’d learned that the hard way several years ago when the son of a visiting dignitary had seemed to take an interest in her. She was young and – though she hated to admit it – more naïve than she was now. He was a few years older than she was, and he’d seemed charming, experienced, exciting. She’d thought he’d been serious about her, that he’d actually wanted to get to know her, and so she’d let him woo her a bit – gone on a few public dates with him, which had all been fine and respectable and aboveboard. Her parents had been cautious, but as nothing had seemed amiss, they hadn’t objected when she’d wanted to keep seeing him. They’d stolen a bit of time together every time he’d accompanied his father when the older man traveled to Misthaven on political business, and he’d even flown in a few times just to spend time with her.

But then, after dinner one evening in the restaurant of one of Spero’s best hotels, he’d gotten on the wrong side of tipsy and tried to take her up to a room he’d rented. She’d not been ready for that step in their relationship and his rather aggressive attempts to change her mind had been ended quite abruptly. He’d proven himself to be either brazen, an idiot, or both, because her Cadre detail had been surveilling from a discreet distance but were still there, witnesses to everything that happened. But when he’d grabbed her by the arm and attempted to haul her into the hotel elevator, the Cadre guards hadn’t even had time to intervene before Emma had taken matters into her own hands – in a manner of speaking.

It was a very good thing that all the paparazzi photos had been confiscated immediately by the crown. It would have been an extreme scandal, after all, for the Princess of Misthaven to have been photographed kneeing her otherwise well-esteemed date in the crotch. Her parents, backed by the most trusted members of the palace staff, had made absolutely sure that every copy of every photo – along with every digital file and print negative – disappeared.

But despite their best efforts, when her former suitor and his father were suddenly persona non grata at the palace, the story had come out – even if not in full detail. The palace’s official press statement had given just the bare bones, and kept the focus on Emma’s companion’s bad behavior and downplayed their budding relationship as much as possible. There had been whispers of the more salacious details of that final date – rumors, nothing of substance, but just enough to fuel the tabloids. They’d run headlines like “Royal Rebel” and “The Highness’ Hijinks.” The scandal had been fairly limited, and had blown over quickly, but it had given just enough material to the opposition party at the time to create difficulties between her parents and certain members of the Privy Council.

That was difficult enough for the royal family to deal with, but what was far worse for Emma was feeling like she’d let her parents down. They’d assured her that it wasn’t her fault, and had nothing but anger and disdain for the former object of her affections. They placed the blame squarely on his shoulders, but Emma saw herself as responsible for letting him fool her into thinking he’d cared in the first place and had retreated into herself for a long time, becoming the “Prickly Princess” instead of the “Royal Rebel.”

Until Killian, her thoughts traitorously reminded her. He got right through those walls of yours without even trying at all.

She swiped away the frustrated tears that had slipped from her eyes after he’d walked away, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly in an attempt to pull herself together. She was mostly composed by the time Lieutenant French joined her, but the other woman still regarded her quietly for a moment when she stepped into place next to Emma.

“Is everything alright, your highness?” she asked politely, scanning the horizon for any sign of trouble while waiting for Emma’s response.

“Fine,” Emma managed, though her voice sounded rough and choked up to her own ears – Lieutenant French must have heard it too, for her attention quickly snapped back to Emma, her eyes sharp and her mouth pulling into a tight line, but she made no comment.

“As you say, miss. Do you wish to continue or turn back?” she asked, her tone slightly flatter than it had been a moment earlier, as if her thoughts were elsewhere – or, perhaps, as though she’d judged Emma and found her lacking somehow. The idea was disconcerting and Emma wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Uh, um…let’s go just around the next loop,” Emma said, gesturing towards the road beyond where Killian now stood. It twisted through Emma’s favorite section of the royal park before turning back to connect with the road they were currently on at a point that was closer to the palace. She hoped running in one of her most loved places would soothe her, but she wasn’t too optimistic.

“Yes, miss.” Lieutenant French replied in that same flat tone before signaling to Killian, who set off at a jog before slowly picking up the pace. They fell in step behind him, Lieutenant French keeping up with Emma easily as they regained their earlier speed.

For a few moments, the two women ran together in an awkward silence. Somehow, Emma thought, it was even moreso than the one she’d just been sharing with Killian before their fight. After several minutes of this, Emma found she couldn’t take it anymore. “Lieutenant, can I ask you something and will you answer me honestly?”

“Of course, miss,” came the immediate and brusque reply, though the lieutenant didn’t look in Emma’s direction.

“How well do you know Lieutenant Jones?” she asked as quietly as she could, given that she was mid run and didn’t want to break stride again.

Lieutenant French’s head turned swiftly in Emma’s direction, the woman’s gaze catching Emma’s own briefly before she turned back and focused on the road. “We were training partners, and now we’re detailed together, miss.” She said before glancing back at Emma again with a hesitant look on her face. She seemed to want to continue, but didn’t move to speak, so Emma gestured for her to go on. “But, what I think you’re really asking me is…what kind of person is he?”

Emma nodded, taking her own turn to stare down the road and avoid her companion’s gaze.

Lieutenant French remained quiet for another moment before speaking softly yet intensely. “He’s honorable and kind. Brilliant and funny. Everything a good officer and a good person should be,” she waited for Emma to look back at her before she continued. “I trust him completely, and you can too,” she said. “Is that what you wanted to know, miss?”

Breathing hard, and not just from the exertion of their run, Emma managed another nod.

They ran the entire rest of the way back to the palace in silence.

-/-

Emma went straight to her rooms immediately after they returned to the palace – she took a shower and pulled on her most comfortable pair of pajamas, curling up among the soft pillows on her still-made bed. She knew she should put in an appearance at dinner – there were no formal state events on the calendar for the evening, but her parents still expected her to dine with them in the private family dining room – but she wasn’t hungry and she couldn’t bring herself to go down and go through the motions of acting like nothing was wrong.

So she called Elsa and asked her to send word to her parents that she was tired and that she’d be having dinner in her rooms that evening, and that she’d call the kitchens herself if and when she was ready to eat anything. After hanging up, she sank further down into her pillows and drifted into a haze of memories. She mentally sifted through everything that had led her to this current moment – all of her interactions with Killian, certainly, but everything else as well. Her romance with that diplomat’s son, her habit of sneaking out and visiting Two Wolves incognito from time to time, the whole “Prickly Princess” reputation, Minister Gold’s latest power-hungry schemes, and the deep desire she had to carve her own path and be more than a royal figurehead. She wanted to be able to lead her people in a way that would truly make a difference to them, but – given Misthaven’s somewhat traditional stance on “appropriate” roles for a Princess to play in matters of state – she wasn’t sure how to begin, or even if she’d be able to.

She wasn’t really aware of time passing, lost in her thoughts as she was, until a soft knock pulled her out of her reverie. She sat up, pushing her hair behind her ears and leaning back against the small mountain of pillows behind her. “Come in,” she called, a bit surprised by how scratchy her voice sounded.

The door swung open slowly and her mother’s head peeked through the gap. Concern flickered across the queen’s features when she took in Emma’s rumpled state, and she quickly stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “Are you feeling alright, sweetheart?” she asked as she came over to sit on the edge of the bed near Emma’s feet.

Emma sighed, a somewhat nasal sound. Must be left over from crying earlier. “That seems to be the question of the day,” she muttered.

The queen quirked a curious eyebrow in Emma’s direction, her gaze so penetrating that it seemed to peer directly into Emma’s heart, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. They were quiet for a moment – Emma making at least an attempt to pull herself together and look a little more composed – before the queen spoke. “This is about that young man, I’d gather. The one in the photographs?” It sounded like a question, but Emma knew that it wasn’t.

She nodded anyway. “Yes,” she murmured, her gaze shifting down to where her hands were playing with the edge of her duvet. “I know you told me to end it…and I did…but…” she trailed off, searching for the right words to explain. “I just…” she petered out again, emotions choking her and rendering her unable to speak until her mother’s fingers laced with her own and squeezed tightly.

She looked up, finding the queen’s gaze and seeing no trace of the formal monarch, but only her mother – the woman who’d hugged her tight whenever she was hurt or upset as a child, who’d always encouraged her to follow her dreams, who was perhaps the only other person Emma knew who had experienced the pull between public duty and private emotions in quite the same way. She wasn’t sure if it was the wisest idea to tell her mother all the details about Killian – she wasn’t sure how the queen would react, especially since she’d not seemed keen on Emma seeing someone when the surveillance photos had surfaced – but she had to tell someone. She couldn’t take bottling everything up anymore.

Suddenly, she couldn’t stop talking – the entire tale spilled out easily. The feelings of frustration at Gold’s latest political intrigue, her hopes to do something meaningful with her position and despair that she might never really be allowed to, sneaking out to Two Wolves, meeting Killian, being charmed unexpectedly, getting to know him better over the last several weeks (though she thought it prudent to leave out the mind-boggling kisses from their picnic), then breaking it off only to find out he was part of the Cadre. She told her mother everything, all the way up to their fight earlier in the day, and when she’d finished she felt oddly better and lighter. A calm settled over her – no matter what happened next, at least she’d been honest with herself about all of her feelings.

The queen was quiet for the space of several heartbeats, and Emma cautiously raised her eyes to meet her mother’s gaze, unsure of what she’d see. The look of compassion and understanding that was shining back at her was an incredible relief for Emma – also a bit of a surprise, if she were being honest.

“Oh, Emma,” her mother started, her voice clearly laced with deep emotion. “I’m so sorry that you ever felt as though you didn’t have a place in leading Misthaven – your father and I have been so focused on strategizing how best to hold our own against the more aggressive members of the council and the more discontented factions in parliament, that I fear we’ve fallen back on relying only on each other out of habit.”

“It’s alright, Mom, I understand,” Emma murmured – and, on some level, she did. She’d been raised on the stories of her parents’ epic love match and brilliant political partnership. The most memorable tale had been the one in which they’d defeated a coup attempt shortly after their wedding. It was a sometimes daunting legacy to live up to.

“No, my darling girl, it’s not – and you shouldn’t have to.” Her mother leaned closer and brushed a strand of Emma’s hair back behind her ear before cupping Emma’s cheek with her free hand. “We’ve been so wrapped up in handling current issues the way we would have in the past, that we haven’t been thinking of the future – of you – as much as we should have. We’ll be fixing that immediately.”

“Really?” Emma asked, a note of hope creeping into her voice. “I have so many ideas-”

“And your father and I would love to hear them,” her mother replied. “I’ll clear our calendars tomorrow morning and we’ll start the conversation, alright?”

Emma nodded, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Absolutely.”

“Now, as to the other matter,” the queen said briskly. “We need to discuss what to do about-”

“Killian,” Emma finished for her mother. She chuckled dryly, a sound with no humor in it. “I didn’t think that anything could be worse than what happened the last time I let myself open up to someone – at least there were no paparazzi this time around, or else it would’ve been an even bigger mess.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself for what happened with that diplomat’s son, sweetheart,” her mother said firmly. “He was an entitled, arrogant braggart who brought every bit of that shame on himself, and, frankly, I’d probably have kneed him even harder than you did if I’d been in your position. I really wanted to do it anyhow,” she finished matter-of-factly.

“Thanks, Mom,” Emma said, a small smile finally causing the corners of her mouth to twitch upwards – it was a very brief thing, but it made her feel better nonetheless. “But as I told you that night, I still contend he kneed himself in the balls.”

The two women stared unblinkingly at each other for a moment before both breaking out into soft, but uncontrollable, laughter. “That should have been the official press statement,” chuckled the queen. “Why didn’t we think of that at the time?”

Emma shrugged. “Don’t know,” she replied with a laugh before her current predicament sobered her mood once again. She squeezed the hand that still held her mother’s. “But it doesn’t really help me to figure out what I do now.”

The queen regarded her for a few moments, and though Emma’d tried to guess at exactly what her mother might say, she wasn’t able to predict the words that the queen actually uttered in that moment. “Emma, you’re the only one who can make that choice.”

“But what about the council’s reaction? And Gold? And-”

“Sweetheart,” her mother said firmly, now squeezing Emma’s hand in return. “None of that matters. The only important thing is how you feel. I know now that the burdens of your royal position have been weighing on you rather keenly lately – and I am so very sorry that I hadn’t realized how much – but nothing that’s going on with that changes anything about this. What’s important is what you want.”

“I want to fix things with him, but I don’t know how,” Emma murmured, slightly stunned at the fact that her mother seemed to be advocating for her pursuing some sort of relationship with Killian. Not that there is a relationship to advocate for right now, given the way that we left things the last time we saw each other she thought regretfully, flashes of their fight replaying themselves in her mind.

“Oh, I have no doubt that you can,” her mother said, a note of mischief entering her voice. “If he’s half as taken with you as you are with him – and given what you’ve told me, I think he is – I don’t think it will be a problem.”

Emma shook her head slowly, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that her mother wasn’t more concerned. She’d expected more skepticism, or caution, or something – not this rather unabashed positivity and upbeat attitude. She’d thought she’d have to work a lot harder to convince her mother that a relationship with Kilian was a good idea, and the fact that the queen had gotten on board so quickly was kind of throwing Emma off-kilter. “I don’t know…it’s going to be really complicated. Maybe it’s simpler to just let it go.”

Her mother shook her head decisively. “It is simpler to do that, but that doesn’t mean it’s better, sweetheart. Anything worth having – really worth having – must be fought for. And you, my dear, have always been a fighter. Besides, fighting for love is the most worthwhile thing of all.”

She sat up straight, nearly dislodging several of her pillows with the sudden speed of her movements. “Whoa whoa whoa whoa, Mom. Who said anything about love? Don’t you think it’s a bit early for that?”

“Not really.” The queen leveled a knowing look at Emma, squeezing her hand once more before letting go and standing up. “Not if those surveillance photos are anything to go by, at any rate.”

Emma sat speechless as her mother brushed off her skirt and headed across the room. The queen had swung open the door and was about to step through when Emma finally found her voice. “You’re not worried I’m making a bad decision?”

Her mother shook her head and turned around, locking eyes with Emma when she did. “Emma, one of the things I’ve always admired about you is your instincts and how they lead you to make good decisions – most of the time, at least,” she said with a teasing arch of her eyebrows. “Trust your gut – listen to what it’s telling you. You’ll do the right thing for you, and whatever that is, your father and I will support it,” she promised, turning and stepping out of the room.

“You don’t think Dad will object?” Emma asked incredulously. “He took the last guy I was even remotely interested in down to see the royal armory and made vaguely menacing comments to him the whole time! I never heard from the guy after that! And what about the council?!”

Emma was still staring at the quickly closing door when it suddenly swung back open part of the way and her mother’s head popped back into view. “I’ll handle your father, don’t you worry. And don’t you worry about the council – your father and I have just figured out a few things that should put a halt to Gold’s machinations for the foreseeable future. Now,” she paused and pointed a finger at Emma as if to underline her final point. “You just try to be discreet while the lieutenant is finishing his Cadre cycle – I’m not saying put a halt to…things…” at this, she thought her mother blushed slightly before recovering. “…just try your best to keep the press from getting too interested in you both as a story, alright?”

Emma nodded. “I think I can manage that,” she said, a small seed of optimism taking root, despite her very real worry that Killian wouldn’t forgive her.

“Oh, and one more thing,” her mother said casually as she turned again and began to leave once more. “I meant what I said about the way you make decisions, Emma, but don’t forget, proposed Cadre Initiates each receive a thorough background check as part of their selection process. Your father and I have read enough about your Lieutenant Jones to know he’s as honorable as they come. I think I can speak for us both when I say the only concern we’d have would be if he’d care well for your heart.”

“He would,” Emma said softly, but with conviction, the tears from earlier threatening to make a reappearance. “That is, I haven’t ruined things between us.”

Her mother shook her head, a fond smile on her face. “Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t worry about that.”

With that, she was gone, leaving Emma to try to process everything that had just happened. She couldn’t deny that she felt better than she had when she’d initially come back to her rooms, but everything she’d been sure of had just been turned upside down yet again. Her mind was whirling and she was torn between thinking about which of her plans and projects she wanted to cover with her parents during their strategy session the following morning and trying to come up with a way to fix things with Killian.

An idea for the latter began to take hold in her mind – it was a simple plan, so hopefully it would have the best chance of working. A grin spread across her face slowly.

Now she just had to wait for the perfect moment to set it all in motion.

-/-

Three days.

It had been three bloody days since he’d fought with Emma – with the Princess, he mentally corrected himself – and continuing on her detail had been nothing short of torturous. They’d been near each other constantly over the past several days, but without any opportunity to speak to each other beyond basic pleasantries.

Though you’ve got no idea what you’d say to her anyway, so maybe that’s for the best, he thought, a frown stealing across his face in response to that realization.

The princess had been extremely busy in the last three days – starting with a meeting with her parents the morning after their fight. When the door to the queen’s private rooms had opened after the meeting, he’d been sure that he was about to be dismissed – the king was looking at him with thinly veiled suspicion, he’d been sure of it. But the queen seemed to be regarding him with an inexplicably fond look, before she’d threaded her arm through her husband’s and drawn him away down the corridor. Emma had flicked the briefest of looks in his direction before she’d taken off at a brisk pace in the opposite direction and he and Belle had fallen into step behind her.

Since then, Emma’d been embroiled in a succession of meetings and other palace business practically non-stop. In her few free moments, she’d been eating, sleeping, or deeply engrossed in research – though on what, he couldn’t say. It had made the idea of approaching her to apologize for his behavior very difficult to put into practice, and the further they’d gotten from their fight, the harder it was to bring it up again at all. Not to mention that she’d been so busy that she’d been skipping her morning run, eliminating one of the best opportunities for him to speak to her alone.

They’d settled into a sort of uneasy half-truce, or at least that’s what it felt like to him, where they didn’t really avoid each other – though given that he was assigned to her detail, she couldn’t very well avoid him altogether – but they didn’t interact very much unless it was absolutely necessary.

Which is why hearing her voice at nearly midnight, coming from the shadowed expanse of the courtyard to his left, was a bit of a surprise.

“Killian?” her voice calling his name floated towards him out of the near-total darkness. “Can you…can you come here…please?”

He hesitated a moment before stepping onto the grass, recognizing it as the same space where he and Belle had met Emma the morning of their fateful running session. She was seated at the far end with one leg tucked underneath her on a low, raised stone wall that encircled a small fountain. In the corner, near a line of Middlemist bushes, an old hanging lantern that had been retrofitted for electricity dimly illuminated that she was playing absently with the cuff of her left sleeve as he approached.

She looked up at him as he drew closer and opened her mouth to speak – but suddenly, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear whatever it was she had to say. “Princess, I do hope you’re having a delightful evening,” he began, falling back on hyper-formality to cover the insecurity that had flared to life in his gut. “But if you’re not in need of anything, I’m going to go consult with Lieutenant French about a few matters.”

He’d taken only a couple of steps towards the covered portico that ran along one side of the courtyard before Emma’s voice brought him up short. “You can’t.”

“Pardon?” he sputtered, his reply far less eloquent than he’d have preferred. “Why not?” he asked – he couldn’t think of a single reason Emma would have for barring him from speaking with the other member of his detail.

Emma stood up and crossed the grass to where he was standing. She looked up at him, her beautifully green eyes seeming even larger when they caught and reflected the moonlight. “She’s not here – I sent her back to Lieutenant Humbert to make the nightly report.”

“She agreed to leave you alone?” He knew that they were on the palace grounds, and there were likely no immediate threats to the princess’ safety, but he was still stunned that the normally rule-abiding Belle would have broken protocol so blatantly.

“I insisted, and I can be pretty persuasive when I need to be,” Emma said, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I knew you’d be along shortly for shift change, and I wanted to speak with you alone.”

“Oh?” Killian’s pulse kicked up a notch and the sense of trepidation he’d been keeping at bay for the last several days increased. Perhaps he was going to be dismissed, and the princess just wanted to do it herself. He kept his face impassive and his words formal as his gaze fell to hers. “How may I be of service, your highness?”

Emma simply looked at him for several long moments, her eyes searching his and her expression far too soft for someone about to make a pronouncement that would ruin his career. She opened her mouth a second time as if to speak, but closed it again before stepping closer to him and starting over. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice low and tinged with regret, “for everything I said to you the other day. Killian, I…you were right. What was starting to happen between us was real, but you have to understand,” she looked up at him pleadingly, “it’s not easy to know who to trust when you’re in my position, and I’ve…I’ve been burned before by exactly this sort of thing. I got scared when we discovered each other’s real identities, but I shouldn’t have been…in my heart, I always knew what kind of person you are, and you didn’t deserve my suspicion, or my accusations. I’m so sorry.”

She finished and took a step back, her eyes flitting away from his while he stood staring at her, dumbfounded. Of all the things he’d expected when he’d found her alone in the courtyard, this turn of events wasn’t anywhere on the list. It took him a few moments to find his voice, and even as he began speaking he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was going to say. He wasn’t at all surprised, though, when he heard himself saying, “It’s alright. I owe you an apology as well-”

Her head whipped up and she shook it vehemently. “You really don’t-”

“I really do,” he insisted, taking a deep breath and scrubbing a hand over his face and through his hair. “I was being selfish – I knew I couldn’t tell you who I was because of protocol and I kept seeing you anyway. I put you in a difficult position and when the truth came out, I spoke very harshly to you – and I was more than a bit of a hypocrite about it all. I’m sorry, Emma.”

He’d barely realized that he’d used her given name for the first time since he’d found out she was the princess when the air between them seemed to take on an electric charge. “Say that again,” she whispered, stepping back closer to where he stood.

“What? That I’m sorry?” he said, a note of teasing creeping into his voice as he mirrored her, moving close enough that they were almost touching. “Because I am, you know.”

“No,” she shook her head, smiling at him as she pressed up on her tiptoes and her arms crept around his neck. “Say my name again – please.”

A slow grin spread across his face as he leaned down, murmuring Emma against her mouth before his lips covered her own. This kiss was so unlike the previous ones they’d shared on the day of that fateful picnic – those had been filled with the urgency of newness and, he realized now, it was more than likely that Emma had thought it might have been the only one they’d ever share. By contrast, this one was slow, languorous, unfolding as lazily as if they had all the time in the world and intended to spend it solely with each other.

When they finally pulled back, his arms had wound fully around her waist and her hands were firmly entangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. He imagined that his expression mirrored hers, dazed but so very happy.

“Well,” she said on a laugh, sounding delighted and far more carefree than he’d ever heard her in the short time he’d known her. “That makes this next part easier.”

“Next part?” he asked absently, more focused on trailing one hand slowly up and down her back, tracing random patterns as he went. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the sensation before she blinked and focused on him again.

“Yes,” she nodded decisively. “The part where I ask you out on a date – where we both know who the other person is, Killian.”

“A date?” he repeated, feeling as dizzy as though he’d been whacked over the head with something rather large and heavy. He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. “How would that even work? With you being…well, you and me being in the Cadre. What would it even look like?”

She grinned – brightly enough to light the whole courtyard without electricity – in response. “Well,” she murmured, scratching her fingernails lightly against the back of his neck in an extremely distracting way. “I don’t exactly know yet. I was kind of hoping you’d be willing to help me figure that out.”

He looked down at her, mind still reeling with everything they’d said – not to mention getting to kiss her again – and fully aware of the challenges that would lie ahead for them both if he accepted. But as he stared at her happy, hopeful expression, and felt a similar one on his own face, he knew there was only one answer in his heart. “With pleasure, Emma.”

Her happy laugh rang through the courtyard for a moment until they lost themselves in each other once again.

-/-

Misthaven Star-Herald

ROYAL REBEL WITH A CAUSE: PRINCESS EMMA SET TO OPEN NEW CHARITIES TO PROMOTE ADVANCEMENT OF MISTHAVEN’S WOMEN AND SUPPORT AT-RISK CHILDREN

By Sidney Glass

Star-Herald Royal Reporter

SPERO, MISTHAVEN, MAY 30, 2023 – Today, Princess Emma of Misthaven finally realized a long-held dream. With her husband, Commodore Killian Jones, at her side, the princess – who is expecting the couple’s first child late this summer – presided over the openings of two new organizations of which she will serve as patron.

The first, Move Forward Misthaven, is a group dedicated to supporting the advancement of women in all industries and areas of study, but with a particular focus on the fields of business, political science, and education. “The goal with Move Forward Misthaven is to elevate talented women in all fields and cultivate them for the leadership roles they are eager to inhabit,” the princess related when asked about her reasons for founding the organization. “We are dedicated to broadening Misthaven’s horizons as we look to the country’s future as a player on the world stage.”

The second group, Stand Up Misthaven, will tackle the much-needed task of providing aid and resources for at-risk children – ranging from educating teachers on how to prevent bullying in schools, to coordinating with youth shelters to provide better care for homeless teens, to evaluating the Misthaven foster system to overhaul its quality of care. “We must speak, we must stand up, for those who cannot do so for themselves – and there are few who are more in need of aid than children, those who look to us for care, for love, and proper direction.” The princess stated in an impassioned speech she gave at the organization’s opening. “Stand Up Misthaven will advocate for those who cannot advocate for themselves.”

Princess Emma has long been an unusual figure in the Misthaven royal family, far more concerned with active public service than traditional diplomatic endeavors, though it is only in recent years that the royal protocols have been altered to allow her a more hands-on role in public leadership. This personal approach will continue with both of her new organizations – the princess will serve on the board of both, but will also make use of her graduate degree as a political science course leader for Move Forward Misthaven. She is also set to speak in front of parliament next week on behalf of improvements to the Misthaven foster system in support of Stand Up Misthaven.”

Ever marching to the beat of her own drum, the princess likewise bucked tradition with her marriage to the common-born Commodore Jones just over a year ago. Jones, who had been a member of Cadre 2018 – and who declined the offer to stay on as training officer for Cadre 2021 two years ago in favor of returning to Misthaven’s Royal Navy – has gained distinction at every turn and has accumulated a service record littered with honors and promotions, starting well before his romance with the princess began.

It is too early to speculate on the potential success of either of the princess’ new organizations, but with her clear determination and boundless energy, and the obviously mutually supportive bond shared between her highness and the Commodore, it isn’t an exaggeration to say that far from the “Royal Rebel” or “Prickly Princess” she was once deemed to be, Princess Emma is the face of Misthaven’s future.

[themyskira]

Wonder Woman #50 postmortem: “You know how strident Wonder Woman fans can be”

I want to cap off my readthrough of this unmitigated shitshow with a look at a recent interview James Robinson did with Newsarama, reflecting back on his twenty-issue Wonder Woman run.

I’m doing this for two reasons: One, because having read the full run and formed my own impressions (and, dare I say, some rather strident opinions), I genuinely do think it can be interesting to see what the writer has to say about it, what they were trying to achieve with it and, looking back, how they feel about the run.

And two, because having read what Robinson has to say, HOOBOY, I HAVE A FEW THOUGHTS OF MY OWN.

Newsarama: James, the one through-line of your entire run is Wonder Woman's twin brother, Jason. I know he was the motivation for you working on this book. Did you know the whole story before you started? Or did this story evolve as you wrote it?

James Robinson: I knew to a degree. As you said, I was specifically asked to pay off the gigantic plot point that Geoff Johns had left at the end of "Darkseid War." So it was always part of my plan.

Are. You. FUCKING. KIDDING ME.

The entire premise of this run. The wholesale derailment of Wondy’s Rebirth story. The rampant shredding of her newly-established Rebirth backstory. Sidelining Diana for the better part of a year in favour of a repulsive twin brother and some shit with Darkseid.

ALL OF THAT.

Served no wider purpose.

Was not intended to build towards some Rebirth metaplot or contribute to an overarching Justice League story.

Was mandated, in fact, for no other reason than that Geoff motherfucking Johns wanted to TIE UP A DANGLING PLOT THREAD FROM TWO-YEAR-OLD CROSSOVER.

He goes on.

Originally, I was going to be on it for a shorter period of time. I had originally planned to be on it for about eight issues, I think. And then when I was getting the twice-monthly book in on time (which is tough; they really beat you up), they asked me to stay on.

There are better, more eloquent arguments against the fortnightly publishing schedule — which is incredibly punishing for creators and prioritises quantity ahead of quality — but none, perhaps, are more simple or succinct than James Robinson got to write twenty issues of Wonder Woman because he got his scripts in on time.

And that gave me more time to develop Jason and play with him more.

I was careful to make sure it wasn't only about Jason, however. I was already getting crap from social media about how this is Wonder Woman's book and she should be the center of attention at all time. You know how strident Wonder Woman fans can be.

Well, that’s an interesting and thoroughly disingenuous interpretation of the critique.

The criticism was not that Wondy must be “the centre of attention at all times”, and therefore Robinson was wrong to spend any time developing any character other than her.

It was that Robinson turned Diana into such a passive, reactive — and, frankly, incompetent — character that she became barely necessary to the story at all. You could remove her from most of the issues in the Darkseid arc without affecting the progression of the plot at all, because she never does anything.

Yes, I got irate when Diana would routinely show up in six or seven pages of an issue, if she appeared at all. Funny thing, when I pick up a book titled Wonder Woman, I expect to occasionally see some actual WONDER WOMAN.

But that was the symptom rather than the problem. Because even when Diana was on the page, she was absent from the story.

And part of this is also about the characters Robinson chose to focus on instead of Wondy: Jason, Grail and Darkseid. Three characters that a lot of fans weren’t interested in, didn’t like and frankly resented having shoehorned into Wondy’s story. True, Robinson may have been asked to include them in the story, but it was his choice to prioritise them over Diana, and it was his writing that shaped Jason into such an odious character (something he confirms in the interview: Johns came up with the idea, he says, but “Most of who the character is now is stuff that I've actually come up with.”)

Put it this way: I didn’t see anybody complaining in December 2016 when Greg Rucka devoted an entire issue to Barbara Minerva’s backstory, did you?

But oh, I’m sorry, was that too strident for you?

Nrama: During your run, you tied into several events that were going on elsewhere in the DC Universe. Even this current story arc ties into Dark Nights: Metal and involves the Justice League. Was that a goal, to make Jason part of the greater DCU?

Robinson: Yes. I always do that stuff, though. I always try to tie into bigger stories. Whether it was my stuff at DC or what I did at Marvel, like Fantastic Four and Invaders and what-not, I always enjoy that about comic book universes. I like when writers try to embrace the whole place.

Here’s the thing about this.

I like the sandbox nature of a shared universe. I’m not a fan of event tie-ins, which have a tendency to derail the stories of individual books in order to aggressively market some company-wide crossover that I couldn’t care less about, but I like that there’s this whole wider world of heroes and villains and settings and mythologies that writers can draw on and play with. And you can tell some really cool stories out of the collision of those different mythologies and characters — think Phil Jimenez’s ‘Gods of Gotham’, for instance, where the Wonderfam and the Batfam are forced to team up when some of Batman’s most powerful rogues are possessed by Ares’ children.

That’s not the way Robinson loops the wider DCU into his stories, or at least it wasn’t in Wonder Woman.

Robinson goes for insider references, often obscure ones, of the sort that will only make sense to people who’ve been reading the same comics as him over the past three decades.

In WW #33, he introduced and then immediately killed off a rebooted version of the Atomic Knights in a four-page sequence that added nothing to the plot.

In WW #42, he featured a flashback to Jason fighting the Deep Six, a group of Jack Kirby villains. Ostensibly this is framed as a set-up by Grail to orchestrate her first meeting with Jason, but Robinson milks it to crack jokes about Kirby’s 1970s dialogue — and if you’re not familiar with the characters (as I wasn’t), their inclusion makes little sense.

In the same issue, Robinson also works in the Wild Huntsman… apparently for no other reason than to amuse himself… and again, if you don’t know who he is, you’ll have no idea why Grail is trying so hard to kill him or why you should care.

And then there’s the Metal tie-in.

Like I said, I don’t like event tie-ins, but it is possible to make them work. G. Willow Wilson’s Ms Marvel has been looped into a number of crossover events over the course of its life, and while I’d prefer that clusterfucks like Civil War II stayed the hell away from Kamala and her pals, Wilson has done an effective job of using these events as a springboard for some really interesting personal conflicts and character work. There’s no extra required reading for these stories; she gives you everything you need to know, so those who aren’t following the event aren’t at a disadvantage.

Robinson gives you nothing.

This is how he links the Dark Gods’ story into Metal:

Diana [narration]: Could I really have summoned this? When we wielded the Tenth Metal against Barbatos, it had the ability to wish thoughts into reality.* Ed. note: * See Dark Nights: Metal #6! — Chris

And a couple of pages later —

Karnell [narration]: ...our beautiful world — which you regard as the ‘Dark Multiverse’ — we see as a paradise… where we were more than even gods to our worshippers… we were everything!

I didn’t read Metal and I’m not planning to. That’s not a value judgement, it’s just not something that sparks my interest.

But it means I don’t know who the bloody hell Barbatos is, and I’ve never heard of the Tenth Metal. I don’t know what the Dark Multiverse is, or how it works, or how it differs from the regular multiverse. When Robinson says Diana made an inadvertent wish while she was wielding this Tenth Metal, I don’t know if he’s picking up on a story point in Metal that I need to read up on.

So right off the bat, Robinson has alienated anybody who isn’t familiar with the event comic he’s drawing from.

And what infuriates me is that at the same time as he was doing all this, Robinson was getting muddled by Wonder Woman’s continuity, conflating superseded New 52 canon with (contradictory) Rebirth canon, inadvertently retconning things and failing even to keep his own narrative consistent. I’d argue he needed to spend less time making references to other comics and more time making sure he understood the one he was writing.

Robinson: [...] what I've always loved about Wonder Woman is her strength. Even when she was in that phase in the white costume, where she didn't have her powers, she had great strength.

Oh, you mean this era?

The era where Diana lost not only her powers, but all of her training and skills? Where she became a weepy, insecure romantic heroine, reliant on men to guide and save her from her own inexperience and her uncontrollable female emotionality? The era where she was constantly crying over her latest rugged love interests? That awesome era?

(Also misogynistic, racist and homophobic as fuuuuuck, but that’s another discussion.)

One of the reasons that era ended was because Gloria Steinham [sic] said, "Hey, she's Wonder Woman! She's a superhero and you've taken away her powers!"

But I actually thought her lacking powers was like saying, I don't need them to be a strong woman. And I think that was almost a more powerful message. I was surprised Ms. Steinem didn't get that, to be quite honest with you.

This is a characterisation of Steinem’s role in that period of Wondy’s history that I’ve seen before (always from men in the comics field), and it’s never sit well with me. It carries an unpleasant shade of gatekeeping.

The implication is that Steinem’s feelings about Wonder Woman (a character had loved since childhood) were less valid or even flat-out incorrect because she hadn’t read the right comics, that she was an ignorant outsider who ruined a good thing by coming in with a political agenda and trying to make Wonder Woman about feminism, that she didn’t have a right to complain about the comic because she wasn’t a ‘real’ fan.

And what Robinson doesn’t mention, as critics of Steinem and Ms. Magazine’s lobbying for a return to the classic Wondy rarely do, is that this campaign was set against a backdrop of unimpressive sales numbers and a struggle over the new direction that eventually gave rise to an ambitious and quite likely divisive ‘women’s lib’ arc written by African-American sci-fi writer Samuel R. Delany, which was intended to culminate in Diana triumphing over a group of male thugs attempting to shut down an abortion clinic run by women surgeons.

I have no doubt that Steinem played an important role in the way events panned out, but I’m also not surprised the ‘women’s lib’ arc never made it past its first issue.

(It was a truly dreadful first issue, btw, though the whole story behind it and what Delany was trying to do with it is fascinating.)

But that didn’t stop DC from kicking off Wondy’s superpowered return with the murder of a composite character representing Steinem and female DC editor Dorothy Woolfolk (whose name had previously been floated as editor for the book).

Then as now, Steinem got blamed by the gatekeepers for daring to interfere with Wonder Woman.

Nrama: Do you think Jason picked up some of her strength over the course of his story arc during your run?

Robinson: I think so, at least at the beginning as he was starting to develop. Now, technically, I suppose he's more powerful than her in that he has the power of their father Zeus and the power of storms and air control and things like that.

I like the fact that when he's given this armor, he realizes that his sister should have gotten it.

And he knows that the powers he has do not make him the better hero.

He knows his sister is the better hero.

So by the end of it, he just wants to be worthy of her, which I think was a nice character arc for him.

I can see how Robinson tried to achieve this character arc, but I wouldn’t call it anything close to a success.

Jason started as a deeply, deeply unlikeable character. He’s deeply selfish and emotionally immature. He doesn’t think about the consequences of his actions, mostly because he’s only ever concerned about how things affect him. When he learns about the mother he never met, when his adoptive father vanishes, every time Hercules leaves on one of his journeys, as he follows his twin sister’s heroics through the media — his thoughts are never about them and what they’re doing, or how they’re feeling, or if they’re okay. It’s always about how they’ve failed him, wronged him, abandoned him.

When we first meet him, he is helping goddamn Darkseid to systematically murder his own siblings. And it’s not because he’s being mind-controlled, or elaborately manipulated into believing that Darkseid is the good guy. It’s because he hates the guts out of Diana, the sister he’s never met, because he believes he’s entitled to the life that she has, and he wants to kill her for it.

If you want to get your readers past all that, you need one hell of a redemptive arc, and that’s one thing Jason never gets.

Because what happens next, after Jason gets an attack of conscience and switches sides, is that he freeloads off Diana, trashes her house, guilt trips her when she tries to set boundaries, and then when, heroism and glory don’t immediately come easily to him, runs away from home in the middle of the night.

The next time we see him is when he returns with the armour and a personality change. He’s still inexperienced, brash, impulsive and annoying, but that’s more or less the extent of it — he’s no longer the thoroughly objectionable character we saw in his first seven issues, and there’s no real explanation for the change.

Really, the vast majority of Jason’s character development takes place in the space between his disappearing at the end of WW #40 and reappearing at the end of WW #41.

Nrama: Wonder Woman #50 definitely feels like it's an ending to your time on Jason's character, and even his time in the book.

Robinson: It definitely has an element of finality to it, but Jason can be there for other writers, or indeed me, if I ever got to write him again.

Excuse me? If you ever got to what now?

Nrama: Is that a hint?

Robinson: I do enjoy writing him. I have this vague fantasy of one day doing a story and calling the comic Jason's Quest, which is an old DC title.

But no one's asked me so far and probably won't. So it's just something in my mind right now.

please, dear god in heaven, please let it stay there.

[james-the-axew]

This might be really weird but I saw in the tags of one of your posts you strongly dislike 1984 and I'm so enthralled because I've genuinely NEVER heard that opinion, Do Tell!

Starting off with the characters, the 39 year old protagonist, Winston is unlikable and generally makes no real impact on anything, more on that later. His 26 year old obligatory love interest, Who he has sex with multiple times (creep), serves very little purpose other than giving Winston a motive to do anything slightly rebellious. And O’Brien who is a bitch because he recruits both Winston and Julia to his rebellion group only to backstab them both out of nowhere and torture Winston.

The world is infuriating because if anyone took more than 3 seconds to think using basic logic, they would see right through the big brother bs. A part that pisses me off is a line where someone says chocolate rations increased from 30 to 20 grams a week.

And here is where I feel the book fails the hardest, the ending. Winston survives but has been brainwashed into buying into the Big Brother nonsense, doesn’t get to reunite with Julia, which was his main motivation for staying alive, and nothing happens to resolve the plot. It’s like if you spent hours going through a difficult and aggravating game, only for the villain to win and the game just ends without a resolution. It feels like my time has been wasted and it overall weakens the message of the book.

If I wanted to I could go into more detail but it’s summer and I’m not writing a full essay on 1984 of all things thanks for the ask though!