#my dedication to a good reference is unbreakable

[rookanisstuff]

Beach episode rookanis anyone?

[aeyumicore]

your fragrance

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: rafayel x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 10.4k (how?????)

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, switch!raf (like he’s both sub and dom in this, if you don’t like that then this may not be for you), knee humping, standing sex, against the wall sex, sorta rough sex, references to rafayel’s lore (no more than what’s talked about the actual memory), dry humping, slightly aphrodisiac sex, dub con if you squint really really really hard, ejaculating in pants, panty ripping, pheromone kink, lots of teasing (calling raf a cat/kitty), cum play? kinda, nipple teasing, slight use of y/n, reader is mc, second person pov

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3

━ ✧.˖ A/N: the raf fic is here!! based off the 5* rafayel memory ‘your fragrance.’ the build up is realllllllly long on this one since i wanted to stay as true to the memory as possible. you can def just skip to the smut if you’d like!

i struggled to write raf a lot but enjoyed it so much like he’s so fun to write. i’m def a sub girly so i love writing dom partners, thankfully i hc raf as a switch. if you do not like fics where raf is a switch, then this may not be for you! 

i can’t believe this fic ended up being 10k words too, i was thinking it would be a quick lil smut lol. i don’t even know how my zayne fic ended up being my shortest fic. enjoy my loves!

also this is dedicated to my bestie who is actually rafayel’s number one slut. follow her on x @/myusuchaa for so much good raf and other purple haired boy content. she is the master of rafayel lore, truly his wifey. a queen to us all.

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

You let out an exasperated sigh as your foot taps irritably against the protective painting tarp Rafayel always has laid out on the ground of his makeshift art studio, stray paint brushes strewn about. Impatiently, you waited for Rafayel to finish changing on the couch behind you, careful not to peek.  

Somehow, being Rafayel’s bodyguard also made you his keeper. And Rafayel was not easy to keep. Always dragging you with him on odd trips even if you had work, pestering you at all hours of the day and night, disappearing and unable to be contacted for days on end. This particular time it was the latter; Rafayel had gone mia three days before his important collab launch party with a high end perfume brand. Now, on the night of the party, Rafayel was still unable to be reached. 

Thomas had called you, in a sheer panic, as he always did when he needed help wrangling Rafayel. He knew you were the only one in this world that could level with Rafayel. And he’d never told you this before, but you were also the only one who could bend Rafayel’s unbreakable stubbornness; a perfect match for the purple-haired obstinate artist. And thus, Thomas had personally designated you as Rafayel’s keeper.  

And so, you found yourself at Rafayel’s massive house, in the most extravagant evening dress you owned, hauling him off to his own damn party. 

His annoyingly alluring voice cuts into the silence of the studio, "You can turn around now and give me a hand with something else.” You snap around to be met with the sight of Rafayel, irritatingly and devilishly handsome in his expensive white dress shirt and designer cardigan, leaning lazily against the sofa with the tie you’d previously used to tie his hands with, woven in between his fingers. He grins and holds it up to you expectantly, "Put this on for me.”

"Don’t you have hands?” You snap, but your feet have a mind of their own, and you’re already approaching him on the sofa.  

"My hands are numb from being tied up by you for so long.” You roll your eyes, knowing he’s being dramatic. While he waits deceptively patiently for you to give in, he leisurely takes a wristwatch out of his pocket to put on, as if he’s got all the time in the world. "Clock’s ticking, keep it up and we’ll be late at this rate.”

You gape at him. The sheer audacity of this man, as if you’re the reason he’d be late. He only smirks at you, and it just infuriates you all the more. How he could so easily annoy the hell out of you and look so beautiful doing it. But you keep your mouth shut, and exasperatedly lean down to put on his tie for him, doing your best not to strangle him with it. It feels strangely intimate, and the brief reprieve finally gives you an opportunity to speak to him. 

"Thomas said you have to be present for all parts of the event. There will be reporters at the entrance taking photos, and…” you rattle off, before you realize Rafayel is being uncharacteristically silent, "Are you even listening?” 

You look up from the tie in your fingers to glance at Rafayel’s face. He doesn’t look the least bit interested in your words, instead his eyes are fixated on your wrist. You tap his chest to get his attention but he remains still, eyes still on your hands atop his collarbones. You curiously wave your hand in front of his face, hoping to snap him out of his trance. Fortunately you do, but unfortunately Rafayel grabs your wrist suddenly and urgently. 

“...what’s the matter?” The bewilderment is unmistakable in your voice. You’re used to Rafayel’s erratic and quirky behavior, but this was alarming, even to you.

Finally his gaze breaks away from your wrist and he speaks, "I heard you talking about the event…” but just as quickly as you’d diverted his attention, it's back on your wrist. His voice is unusually clouded, deeper than usual. His eyes are back on your wrist that’s enclosed in his fingers, as a strange expression crosses his face. It almost feels as if he’s trying to hold himself back, but you’re unsure from what. 

"Your hand…” he trails off, inexplicable emotions caught in his hoarse voice. He suddenly tugs you towards him by your wrist, and you stumble forward.  

"Rafayel?! Wait!” As you fall forward, your feet run out of space and hit the bottom of the sofa, causing you to tumble on top of him. He catches you easily, sitting you on top of his lap while he brings your captured wrist right up to the side of his face. The awkward position forces you to settle your legs on either side of his thighs, straddling him against the designer couch. The half knotted tie comes undone and you’re left clutching the smooth material in your hands. If it weren’t for the compromising position you found you and Rafayel in, you'd be slightly disappointed at seeing your hard work unraveled.  

The grip on your wrist tightens impossibly, almost possessively, "Hold still.” His command is not totally unusual; Rafayel is always demanding things of you, his precious bodyguard. But his voice comes out in a strange and sensual husk, leaving you confused, nervous, and weirdly burning. His silky smooth dress pants shuffle under you, and you’re reminded of the expensive clothes you’re pressed up against, likely worth more than a month of your hunter salary.  

"Your suit! It’ll get wrinkled.” 

"I don’t care…let me smell this…” he trails off, his voice sounding impossibly far away. You can feel the tickle of his inhale against your wrist and it makes you shiver, goosebumps forming under his touch. 

"What is that?” He asks, mostly to himself, lost in his own little world, "It smells good. And smells familiar…” 

It wasn’t at all uncommon for Rafayel to be mysterious and even enigmatic, but this was a whole other level of confusion for you, "What…what’s wrong? Did something happen?”  

His behavior is starting to worry you. He’s unusually breathless, and you can see a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. The last thing you needed was him getting sick! You could already hear his needy whines in your head at the mere thought. Demanding to be taken care of and waited on. You almost want to smile at the thought of it; you act constantly annoyed with Rafayel but deep down you know you can’t live without his antics. 

 "No, I'm fine. Very well, in fact,” but despite his words, Rafayel sounds anything but. His voice, normally a bright and charming, albeit annoying, timbre, is now a hoarse and needy rasp. His ticklish touch on the inside of your wrist reminds you of where you got the perfume that he was so intoxicated by. 

"Come to think of it...I tried an unreleased fragrance in the back office of the exhibition hall. It was made with special ingredients,” you scratch your chin with your free hand, trying your best to recall the name of it.  

"Perfume? You spritzed the perfume sample on your wrist?” 

You glance at him, concern and confusion written all over your face. Isn’t that what you do with perfumes? Rafayel shifts his gaze to your eyes, but his breath remains on the inside of your wrist. It’s deafeningly silent and you realize the scent of the perfume gradually grows stronger as your body temperature rises at the proximity of your body to Rafayel’s. You’re suddenly reminded of the fact that you’re sitting on his lap, and his face is so very close to your own.  

He’s still lost in his own thoughts as he murmurs, more to himself than you, "It’s a bit bitter like fermented plants…but very fragrant.” 

"It could be a mixture of artificial chemical stuff. Now, unhand me please,” you’re desperate to detach yourself from him, unsure if you can trust your body when it’s pressed so readily upon Rafayel’s own hard and sturdy stature. 

"No.”  

Your jaw drops at his audacity. But before you can berate him, he’s reaching his free hand to undo the buttons of his collar, as if the clothing is restricting him and making it hard to breath. His purple eyes are glazed over, and a beautiful faint blush paints his cheeks. His exposed collar and chest have you biting back your words, completely losing your train of thought. You squirm at the sight, but Rafayel’s hand on your thighs grip you in place, not letting you move a single inch. 

"I could’ve sworn I've smelled this fragrance before,” he presses your hand against his cheek as he continues to slowly inhale the scent by the mouthful. It wouldn’t be completely out of the question, the unreleased scent had been developed for his artworks for the collaboration, so it’s very likely he could’ve sampled it during production. 

"We can worry about it later. Let’s go. Everyone is waiting” you urge, feeling yourself blush as he shifts slightly under you, brushing against your sensitive inner thighs. You pull your hand away from his cheek, only for Rafayel to yank it back, like a child unwilling to share his favorite toy.

"Let me smell it again,” his demand is meant to be gentle, but comes out rough and urgent. You sigh, letting him melt into your hand again. It’s almost endearing; you quite like being so intimate with Rafayel. 

"You know, for someone who hates cats, you sure are acting like one,” you tease, "A kitty that found some catnip to be exact. 

The mere mention of cats is usually enough to set Rafayel off, pouting like a little baby that’s been teased. But instead, he just distractedly responds, "So then are you a cat? I am not a cat. And also, you’re not allowed to say that. I just couldn’t resist…” 

You roll your eyes but can’t help but grin at his adorableness, tempted to just give in to his touch, savoring every moment you possibly can before the bubble bursts.

 "What is this weird perfume…” he’s talking to himself again, inspecting your hand carefully. His jumbled thoughts have you worried for him again. Although Rafayel did often have energy that bordered on adhd, this was much more intense than that. 

"Are you alright?” You repeat, softly. He doesn’t respond, but leans his cheek into your touch, his lips turning so they’re practically kissing your palm. Like this, he inhales the scent with his parted lips. His adam's apple bobs as he gulps, almost feverishly. His hand reaches to further loosen his collared shirt, pulling it open to let the cool air soothe his burning skin.  

"It must be an allergic reaction. This isn’t perfume. How dare they use such underhanded methods to trap me…” his words both confuse and scare you. You’re growing increasingly worried about his flushed and sweaty complexion, his collarbones shining under the faint glow of the city lights through the massive windows. His words fill you with a terror you do not understand.

Rafayel holds the area between the bridge of his nose and his forehead, like his head is pounding, before returning to grip the collar of his dress shirt. His hand that holds yours is shaky as he rocks slowly underneath you, inhaling as much of the perfume as he can. His lap brushes against yours and your brain short circuits at the feeling of him pressed against you. 

"H-huh?” Is the only thing you’re capable of getting out.

"Who gave you the perfume? Who sent it?” His questions are increasingly alarming you, but you do your best to keep calm. You can tell he’s nervous as well, and the sight makes your chest squeeze. Wanting to comfort him, you cup his cheek in your palm and he leans into the touch so contentedly and groaning in satisfaction. Truly like a cat.

You blushed despite yourself. It was so difficult to not be aroused in this compromising position. You’d long since had a crush on Rafayel, always craving his silly antics and theatrics. Missing him intensely when he’d disappear for days at a time. 

"No one. Um, why do you look like you’re drunk?” You try to deflect from the burning between your thighs, hoping he can’t notice how hot and bothered you’ve become. 

"I’m not drunk. I just don’t like the scent,” he pouts, but nuzzles your hand against his cheek like a cat getting cheek scratches. He turns his lips back into your palm, opening his mouth until you can feel his teeth graze your skin. He groans as he continues to inhale the scent, making you bite back a moan of your own at his gentle nibbles. 

"Rafayel…you…” but you find yourself at a loss for words as he continues to breathe in your scent like it's the oxygen he needs to survive. Your own breaths start to come out in shallow pants, and you squirm in his lap. Rafayel moans softly into your palm, biting down gently to get you to stop. 

"Are you trying to run away again?” He asks, almost painfully, his eyes piercing into yours, so intense and searching. The glassy look in them reminds you of how much you’re worried about his current well being.

"Rafayel, you don’t look so good. Shouldnt you go to the doctor?” You use the hand Rafayel isn’t gripping to take his face between your free fingers and inspect his beautiful and flushed features.  

Rafayel’s breath hitches at your touch, goose flesh littering the skin where your touch singes, "I’m not going anywhere.” And though he doesn’t say it, you can feel what’s left unsaid.

And neither are you.

But he continues, dazed, "You’re gonna lock me up again…you’re with them. I just know it. Don’t think I'm unaware of what you’re about to do.” He has both your wrists in his hands now, gripping them on either side of his neck. "Y/n, I won’t fall for it again. Not this time.”

Though his words scare the shit out of you, you’re unable to concentrate on anything but his eyes that are trained on your neck, where your pulse thrums erratically in anticipation. You’re suddenly hyper aware that your heart is beating so fast you can hardly hear him anymore, despite his face being mere inches from yours. Your breath is close enough to mingle with his. It seems he notices too, because he inhales deeply and throws his head back, gasping.

It's then you realize it's not just the scent of the perfume that's setting Rafayel off, but your own scent mingled with it. 

"Rafayel, snap out of it!” You beg. But Rafayel can’t seem to hear you as his cold hand grips the side of your neck, where you’d also dabbed the perfume along. Your breath catches in your throat at the icy touch, unsure of what to do. 

Rafayel senses your hesitation, "Don’t worry. I’m not gonna do anything to you.” His voice is a throaty groan, and you’re honestly unsure if that’s even what you want. His body is almost on top of yours now, his breath deafening in your ear. And all you can think about is how you’d wish he’d press into you harder, until you’re suffocating, only able to breathe him in. 

But you go with your better judgment, pushing him gently, putting some distance between the two of you. He glances up from your neck, eyes unfocused, and says nothing. He finds himself staring at your lips that are parted slightly to let out the short pants of breath you’re wheezing out. He leans in slowly so he can breathe in as much of you as he possibly can, just nearly closing the proximity between your lips.  

Suddenly, your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your little bubble with Rafayel, "Its Thomas! He probably wants to remind us of the time. Let's head out!” You shove your phone until Rafayel’s hands, forcing him to take Thomas’s call for you.  

While he’s distracted, you slip out from beneath him and bolt to the nearest bathroom. As you move your legs, you’re made acutely aware of the slick that has formed in your panties. But you focus first on furiously washing off the scent from your wrists and neck. As you scrub, you glance up at the mirror in front of you. You swear at the site of yourself, unbelievably disheveled and undeniably aroused.  

As you continue to adamantly scrub, you can faintly make out Rafayel on the phone with Thomas, just outside. 

"No, we’re not going to make it. I need to take care of something urgent. Don’t call again please, bye.” When you turn off the faucet, you go to lean against the wall adjacent to the sink, trying to steady yourself and collect your thoughts. You turn around and gently rest your forehead against the wall, sighing into the cool surface against your burning skin, willing the arousal between your legs to go away. You try to remind yourself of poor Thomas all alone at the exhibition right now. Your guilt is short lived as you hear the patter of Rafayel’s feet approaching the bathroom. 

"Where are you going?” Rafayel’s words are right behind you, and his hand presses against the bathroom wall that your forehead rests on. You whip around and find yourself trapped between Rafayel’s hard body and the solid wall behind you. You back up instinctively, but find yourself hitting the cold surface before you even take a single step back. 

"Gotcha,” Rafayel smirks softly, and you tremble at his proximity to you. His other hand grips a towel bar to your left, while his other hand leans against the wall to your right, so you’re utterly trapped against him. He’s so close, close enough that you can feel his rapid breaths fanning across your parted lips. As Rafayel’s eyes roam all over you, from your lips to your heaving chest, you feel very much like a lamb caught in a lion’s den. Except you don’t want to escape. 

"Rafayel…” you murmur using both your hands to gently push against his chest, unintentionally brushing against the exposed skin below his collar, under his unbuttoned dress shirt. You’re hoping he’ll have mercy and release you, afraid that the palpable sexual tension in the air would cloud your, and Rafayel’s, judgment.  

He shivers as your wet hands brush against his chest, knuckles turning white as they grip the towel bar next to you. His breath comes out in shallow pants, chest heaving up and down, with a light sheen of sweat painting his pale skin. The sight snaps you out of the moment, reminding you that Rafayel seems like he might have a fever. 

"Let’s go to the hospital...I’m worried about you,” your hands shift to grip his open shirt, bringing the fabric together to cover him up. Rafayel’s hand releases the towel bar to take both of your hands into his, trapping them against his chest.  

"What will it take for you to believe that I'm okay? I’m exactly where I want to be,” his gruff voice invades all your senses while his eyes burn holes through your own. He presses himself further into you, until his forearm is resting against the wall above you, only your joined hands pressed against his chest separating the two of you. He leans down, his face now impossibly close to yours, and for a second you find yourself lost in his purple and blue cosmic eyes.  

You take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself to reality, and remind yourself that Rafayel’s actions are only fueled by the strange effects the perfume has on him. He’s not in his right mind, and you need to think for him.  

You whisper, craning your neck up to look into his eyes, "You’re not yourself right now. Let me help you, I can take you to the doctor.”  

Rafayel leans down, resting his chin in the crook of your neck. He breathes you in, the smell of the perfume, still potent despite the scrubbing, mixed with your pheromones invading his very being. Slowly, almost like it pains him to do so, he lifts his head away from you. He releases your hands and uses that same hand that gripped them to lift your chin towards him. 

"Do you know the only thing you could do that would help me?” His hooded eyes lock yours in. His voice is the soft purr you know and love, slightly tinged with a rough and carnal desire that shakes you to your core. 

"Name it. I’ll do it for you.“ part of you knows that Rafayel isn’t going to ask you for anything regarding his health but you can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth. You’re stepping into very dangerous territory and you can’t hold yourself back. 

"Kiss me,” his voice is low, but the assertive demand in it is undeniable. His command makes you shift in between his legs against the wall, becoming hyper aware of how deeply your bodies pressed into each other. You know you want to, you’ve wanted to for some time now. But you can’t shake the idea that the strange effects of the perfume are clouding Rafayel’s judgment and inhibitions. 

"R-Rafayel…” you stutter hesitantly. Trembling ever so slightly, you lean in to peck his flushed cheek. You watch, slightly amused, as Rafayel’s ears get even pinker.

"Why must you always make me beg?” He whines. His lips stick out in a signature Rafayel pout, one you’ve grown to absolutely adore, no matter how annoying it can be.  

You can’t help but laugh breathlessly, your chin still in his grip, "I don’t make you. You just love to beg.“ 

With your face still in his grip, he sighs dramatically, "Then I won’t beg anymore.” He brings his face to yours and captures your lips with his. He swallows your surprised squeak, which is quickly replaced by a throaty moan of longing and anticipation. Rafayel absolutely devours your noises, his lips so commanding against your own, bending them to his every will. They’re so soft, and you can’t help but think they fit so perfectly slotted against your own.  

Though you can taste the urgency on him, Rafayel takes his time with you, engraving the taste and feel of you in his mind forever. He takes it so tortuously and deliciously slow that you find yourself nibbling on his bottom lip, begging him to take you fully.  

You can just feel his maddening smirk against your lips. Instead of indulging you, Rafayel laces his practiced fingers under your dress’s skirt and onto your thighs. Only when you yelp in surprise does he finally slip his tongue into your mouth, always intentionally doing things to take you by surprise.  

The new sensation of your tongues on each other seems to have Rafayel equally feral, because you feel the unmistakable press of his erection into your stomach. Needing to do something with your hands, you trace the outlines of his chest muscles, enjoying the feel of them finally against your fingers. 

Rafayel’s hands venture to your back, expertly undoing the zipper of your dress, and then your bra. Gasping into his open mouth as his fingers return to the pebbling skin of your nipples. He gives a harsh flick to each, and your knees buckle against the sensitivity. You sink down against the wall, lips still attached to his for dear life, but Rafayel shifts so that he catches you with his knee instead. The mid length black dress your wore rides up and serves as a sheer layer of protection between your dampening panties and his knee. The friction of his leg against your crotch is unbearable, forcing you to throw your head back in pleasure. 

Your reaction only serves to spur Rafayel further, as he begins to knead his knee into your cunt slowly. Your body turns to mush at the ecstasy of his knee against your most sensitive region, but Rafayel holds you steady with his hands gripping you from the swell of your underboobs.  

Burying his face into the crook of your neck, he inhales again. Unbeknownst to you, he practically comes undone at the smell of you alone, "You say I'm always whining but look at you.”  

You whimper at his teasing words right against your ear, clutching the back of his neck for support as he continues to hump his knee into you.  

Suddenly, Rafayel stops, letting his knee still against your increasingly damp cunt. You can’t help but whine as you look up into his amused eyes. There’s mischief in them as he grins, "I’m getting tired. You’re going to have to do the work.” 

Despite your lust clouded brain, you can still think coherently enough to see through his brattiness. You narrow your eyes at him, "You’re tired? Let me take you to the hospital. I knew you weren’t feeling well.” You duck down to escape his arms that cage you in, but he only lowers them so that they now trap you at the waist instead. 

"You’re so mean to me Y/N,” he huffs, "Can’t you tell how vulnerable I am right now?” 

"Because of the perfume? Why does it affect you so much?” You murmur, squeezing his cheeks slightly.  

From Rafayel’s expression you can tell he’s unwilling to share too much information. And as annoying as that was, you trusted him wholeheartedly and knew better than to prod him too much. You would take what you could get. 

He rests his head on your shoulder, unwilling to meet your stare. Dusting your hair behind your ear, he sniffs you again, practically consuming the scent. You shiver at the slight breeze he creates at your exposed neck, "I-It’s not just the perfume. I’ve dealt with this scent before, and I've developed a tolerance to it.” 

You hold his neck against your shoulder, and gently knead his damp skin, letting him inhale the smell like his life depended on it, "Then why?”

Rafayel sighs, releasing the wall behind you but instead trapping you by wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing your bodies together. You sigh in satisfaction as his erection presses warmly against you again, your pussy craving his touch

Finally he speaks, but his voice is low and almost feels dangerous, "The marine plant the perfume is extracted from…on its own no longer does anything to me. But when it’s exposed to another scent that I cannot control myself around…the reaction it causes can be extremely potent.” 

The sensations of his body pressed tightly against yours makes your brain practically non-functional, so you’re not following his train of thought, so you ask dumbly, "Like the air?”

You can practically hear Rafayel rolling his eyes in his voice, "I need air to survive but do you think I can’t control myself at all times of the day?”

"Okay well I'm confused! And to be fair you do act like an idiot at all times of the day so how am I supposed to know?!” He ignores you, taking another lungfull of the scent on your skin into his body. This time, he growls through an intense shiver, his grip on your body tightening against him. As if the very smell of your skin drove him into a lust filled craze. 

And that’s when you realize what he meant.

"O-oh,” is all you can squeak out. Strangely enough, the idea that your scent is what is driving Rafayel to madness makes you leak further into the puddle that had formed in your panties. 

Rafayel groans again, one his fists releasing your body to gently pound into the wall behind you, "I-I can smell the arousal in your scent. It’s driving me insane.” 

Knowing he can smell the dampness between your thighs is both utterly embarrassing and completely erotic. Your heart lurches, wanting nothing but to take his discomfort away and make him feel good, "H-how can I help you?” 

Reluctantly, he removes his chin off your shoulder and turns to face you, gripping your biceps in his hands, almost to the point of pain, "Do you mean that? Because you can’t take it back.”

Shivering at the implications of his words, you nod slowly but more sure than ever, "Yes. Let me help you. I want to help you” 

"I-If you want to help me…” Rafayel’s voice is doubtful, like he’s scared you will deny him before he’s even gotten the chance to put his request out. Between your thighs, you feel his knee creeping its way back against your leaking cunt. The shock to your recovering clit causes you to clutch Rafayel’s firm shoulders and throw your head back with a breathy moan. Rafayel feeds off your pleasure, imagining what you would sound like when you were actually stuffed to the brim with him. 

"I want...I need to see you cum all over me,” Rafayels throaty plea makes you blush profusely. You almost want to smack him across the head for his shameless words, but the pout on his face reminds you that he’s absolutely serious that this will help him. That seeing you come undone for him will help take the edge off of the effect the perfume is having on him. 

"O-okay.” You gulp, nodding. The relief on his face is mixed with unbridled excitement that makes you squirm in anticipation of what's to come. Your feet shift, which causes you to grind down on his knee once more. Unable to withstand the unintentional teasing any further, you languidly moan and grind your leaking cunt against him to relieve some of the pulsing tension in your gut. 

Your broken groans grace Rafayel’s ears and you can actually see his eyes light up with pleasure while his ears burn an even deeper red. His breath is shaky as he dips his head back down, inhaling deeply and dusting a kiss to the pulse point on your neck. You shiver as he gently uses his tongue against your neck to soothe his raging desire. 

His reaction intrigues you, and you can’t help but want to tease him further, just a little. Peering at him through your eyelashes, you tip toe upwards so you can fan your bated breath across his face, letting him bask in your scent. Your tongue reaches out to gently swipe across his bottom lip, all the while you continue to pleasure yourself using his thigh. 

Rafayel is unable to contain his excitement as he watches you use his body for your own gratification. He pants desperately into the crook of your neck, high off your pheromones invading all his senses. Through both your whiny moans, you reach out to graze his cock through his dress pants. 

Rafayel hisses at the slightest contact, and his reaction ignites your confidence, provoking you further. You grip him through the silky smooth trousers, holding his throbbing erection in your hand, using your thumb to tease where you think his slit would be.

"Fuck–hah, be gentle please baby. M’sensitive,” he whines through gritted teeth. Your cunt clenches at his words, so teasing yet so endearing from Rafayel’s lips. You can feel the coil in your gut tightening as you continue to hump into Rafayel’s knee, using his body to chase your own high. Your black dress has ridden up, and now the only barrier between Rafayel’s knee and your sopping pussy is your equally soaked panties. You bite your lip and pray that Rafayel doesn’t notice the moist streaks that are starting to appear on his expensive pants. 

Through your hooded eyes, you can see Rafayel is enjoying this just as much, if not more, than you are. His eyes are thick with lust, and you can practically see the pulse of his neck pound against his delicate skin. He desperately gasps for air, or maybe he’s trying to breathe more of you in, as you near your earth shattering climax. 

"Touch yourself for me,” you purr at him, purposely jutting your bottom lip out in a pout. He obliges obediently, one hand quickly undoing his belt and slipping in to grab his unbelievably hard cock into his hands. 

As you watch his face contort in pleasure, you’re filled with the need to grab him into your own hands. "Can I touch you too?” You ask innocently with wide eyes, imagining just how smooth he will feel in your bare hands. 

Rafayel whines, still obediently pumping his cock in his hands, "Yes please, I need you to touch me.” At his plea, you let your hands find their way to his hands, still diligently pumping up and down. You wrap your smaller hand over his and mimic his motions. You gasp at the sheer size of him, your fingers just barely able to wrap around his girth. You can feel his veins throbbing against your fingers, begging you to continue further. The sheer amount of pre cum that already coats his fingers, and now yours, makes you wonder how delicious his spend would feel inside you instead.

"You’re so dam beautiful when you – fuck – use me like this. Dreamed about this for s’long,” he bites out, his hands finding your nipples once more. His long artist fingers tease you expertly, taking the peaks and rolling them gently.

His skilled hands and filthy words accelerate the intensity of your body’s peak quickly approaching you. His entire body is flushed and burns under the pumps of your fist, likely exacerbated by the effects of your scent. You respond to his endless stream of gasps and swears with breathless mewls of your own, whispering sweet words into his ear. 

"Let me cum Rafayel, please. Want to cum for you s’bad,” you beg against him, despite him having given you all the power already, knowing the begging will drive him insane. 

Rafayel drives his knee further into you as your core grinds into him like second nature. Your wrists vigorously pump his leaking cock, the thick heat of it feeling absolutely unreal against your palm. With your free hand you thread your fingers through his long soft hair, gripping gently. With a strangled groan Rafayel sinks his teeth into your neck, sucking at your pulse point as if he’s trying to devour your scent. Reluctantly he pulls away, throwing his head back in pure pleasure once more. 

 "F-fuck you drive me fucking crazy Y/N,” he pants, his thick length throbbing at your vigorous pumps along his shaft, almost as if his heart was beating inside it. The endless precum that falls from the tip coats your fingers, making a wet mess in Rafayel’s pants and your palm.

 He groans in disappointment when you release his erection, but his eyes are trained on your every movement. Overcome with your aching need for the gorgeous purple haired man before you, you bring your soaked fingers to your lips and slowly insert your index and middle finger into your parted mouth. You make a show of letting your tongue lap up his essence from your digits, never letting your eyes break contact with his as you devour him off your fingers. You can’t help but let out a muffled moan at the taste of him, sweeter than you could have ever fathomed, so deliciously Rafayel.

He nearly hyperventilates as you peer at him through the tears of pleasure that had beaded onto your eyelashes. "Look at you, hah, like a fucking masterpiece,” his thumb caresses your lip as his breathless praises make you squirm against his knee. The pre cum on his thumb swipes onto your tongue, and you itch to taste him again. You shift yourself so that you can take his thumb into your mouth, using your tongue to swipe all the slick off his slender fingers. 

Rafayel shivers at your touch, his mind a mush of lust and adoration as he watches your eyes roll back at the taste of his cum on your lips.  

"You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmurs, drunk off your pheromones invading his senses. You only smile at him and tip toe up to press your lips against his, wanting him to be able to taste himself on your tongue. He groans into your mouth at the odd sensation of being able to taste both himself and you all at once. Both his hands come up to thread in your hair, pulling you as deeply into him as he possibly can. You can feel his exposed chest against your own, his heart pounding rapidly against the swell of your dress covered breasts. The proximity lets him control every twitch of his quads against your cunt and you cry into his mouth at the stimulation. 

As you continue to fuck yourself onto his knee, you find yourself on the cusp of your orgasm, nearly blinded by the ecstasy of his leg wedged between your thighs and the salty taste of his slick on your tongue, "Raf-Rafayel, m’gonna cum.” 

Despite his furious blush, he smirks at you, as devilishly handsome as ever, "You gonna cum on my knee baby?” 

If it weren’t for the cloud of pleasure fogging your every nerve you’d surely have a snarky retort to throw back at him, but the need to have him is so great you can’t think of a single thing. Without even needing to enter you, Rafayel has rendered you utterly fucked out.  

So instead, you nod eagerly as your grinding against his knee becomes increasingly sloppy and erratic. Rafayel, entranced by the utterly fucked bliss in your eyes can’t stop himself from falling deeper into the abyss that is you: your voice, your eyes, your smell, your soul. He finds himself realizing that, though he’s seen millions of dollars in once in a lifetime artworks, even creating some of his own to add to this infinite world, the entire universe pales in comparison to you. The thick haze of emotions overwhelms him and he finds himself begging, once again. 

"P-please cum for me, my love. I need to see it,” Rafayel begs into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. The sensation makes your entire body shiver, causing your cunt to quiver further into his soaked knee. You’re not used to his voice, normally teasing and bratty voice, being this needy and adoring. It’s all enough to shove you viciously into your orgasm. You cling onto Rafayel as you release all over your panties and his leg, still languidly grinding into you.  

You can’t stop the screams that rip out of your mouth, pure ecstasy and satisfaction laced into your very breath. Rafayel holds you tightly against him, cooing into your ear, talking you through the waves of pleasure, as the excruciating ecstasy makes tears spill out of your eyes and onto your cheeks. 

Rafayel eyes widen in pure awe as he watches every shiver and twitch of your orgasm against his leg. He throws his head back, swearing as your scent becomes exponentially more potent. The smell of your spend is thick in the air, mixing with your pheromones and the perfume until it overloads every nerve in his body. The throbbing in his cock grows unbearable even with nothing touching it, physically twitching uncontrollably as he explodes inside his slacks. 

You cry out one last time when your thighs collapse from the intense climax, and Rafayel catches you by your waist, holding you steady against him and the wall behind you. The movements against your cunt slow as you ride out the final waves of your orgasm. With nothing separating his thigh from your cunt but your soaked panties, Rafayel can swear he feels your clit throb against him, the aftershocks of your climax wracking your body, just as the effects of his own orgasm sear through his. 

You’re a panting and sobbing mess against his flushed chest. Your legs are completely useless, supported solely by Rafayel’s strong and safe arms around your waist and his knee still wedged between you. He rests his face in the mess of your hair, breathing you into him. Unbeknownst to you, Rafayel is reeling from his own climax as he holds you protectively against him, almost for dear life.

Through the comfortable silence that has blanketed the bathroom, Rafayel’s voice vibrates on the top of your head, "You smell so fucking good baby.” 

You smile contentedly against Rafayel’s chest, your hands reaching up to smooth his curly hair away from his sweaty forehead, "Do you feel better?”

He smiles against your head, taking another deep breath of you into him. His voice is thick with satisfaction, but also unrelenting hunger, "Yes, but…” you wait for him to finish his thought, but there’s only silence.

"Rafayel?”

His reply comes out strangled and heavy against the top of your head, "I-I need more. I need you.”

You shift so you can look up at him. He doesn’t speak, but his hooded eyes tell you everything he’s thinking. Maybe it’s the post orgasm haze, but you find yourself being unable to deny Rafayel, wanting nothing more than to please him.

Getting on your toes so you can reach him, you let your bottom lip brush against his, relishing in the way his breath catches in his throat, and whisper, "Take me Rafayel.” 

 "Sh-shit,” he mumbles and presses his lips the rest of the short distance into yours. He tears into you with such torrid intensity that your knees buckle. As his palms hold your face in place, you cling onto his shoulders for support, the feeling of him enveloping you so overwhelmingly addicting. As your legs give out under the excruciating anticipation of what’s to come, you hook your knee into Rafayel’s waist. He grips your thigh, lifting it to hook around his back. His hand kneads into your bare skin as he reluctantly tears his lips from yours. 

"You can’t stand anymore?” His cocky grin contrasts the deep blush on his cheeks. Before you can snap back at him, he hoists you up against the wall. Instinctively you yelp, wrapping your other leg against his waist as he holds you securely against the cool tiles behind you and his solid abdomen.  

His lips simultaneously find yours again, locking deeply with an unrelenting passion that quite literally takes your breath away. As your breath becomes his, your thighs clench at the crushing intensity of his lips, wanting him deeper, harder. His tongue explores every inch of you, and you whimper into him at the pure need that was manifesting in your gut once more. 

Feverishly, Rafayel breaks away, like he cannot possibly wait another second. He doesn’t even break a sweat as he balances your squirming body with one hand, his other hand reaching down to pull off his belt that he’d undone earlier.

You want to ask Rafayel if it’d be more comfortable to go to his bed or even the studio sofa, but you’re rendered speechless as he pulls his cock out of his slacks. You’d felt it in your hands earlier, but seeing it in all its glory under the light was a whole different story. 

Rafayel definitely took pride in how he presented himself, his hair, his clothes; everything about him was pristine and curated just how he wanted others to see him. And his manhood was no different. He stood absolutely proud against his naval, his impressive length erect enough to touch just below his belly button, curving straight up. He’s unsurprisinglt well groomed, but with a dusting of pubic hair along his happy trail to his glorious cock. Like Rafayel himself, it was nothing short of art.

But then you noticed that he has trails of white cream smeared all over his delicious length, matted into the hair along his pelvis. Far too much to be just pre cum. 

"D-did you cum earlier?” You can’t stop the grin that forms on your face as you realize Rafayel had finished earlier just watching you pleasure yourself against him. Literally came undone at the mere thought and sight of your pleasure.

Rafayel averts his eyes, hiding under his tousled bangs, his face tomato red, "Sh-shut up!” His reaction only makes you laugh and want to provoke him more.

"You’re such a bad boy Rafayel, cumming without me touching you,” you coo, using one hand to scratch his hair soothingly, "Just an eager little kitty for me.”

Rafayel’s eyes narrow as his lips form his signature pouty grimace, "I am not a cat.”

You open your mouth to tease him more, but Rafayel pushes you harder into the wall so he can free one hand to rub his thumb against your lips. You yelp at the feel of the stone cold wall being pressed further into your burning skin. With his finger on your mouth, his eyebrow raise at you pointedly.  His eyes light up with an intense and burning warning, "I’m about to fucking ravage you. Are you sure you want to keep teasing me?”

His words shut you up instantly. You shake your head vehemently and obediently, your cunt aching at his promises, needing nothing more than to be filled with him.

"Good girl,” he murmurs, his hand moving off your lips to reach under your dress, hooking his finger into the waistband of your panties. You shiver at the feel of his palm on your waist, as he attempts to pull them off of you. But he quickly grows impatiently frustrated at the tangle of your bodies. 

"I'll buy you another pair, ‘kay?” You’re about to protest but Rafayel wastes absolutely no time, bunching the delicate material in his fist and tearing it off you. You gape as the sound of fabric ripping sounds in the air and watch the lace material fall to the ground. 

"R-Rafayel! I liked that pair!” You scold, hitting his shoulder in a mixture of disbelief but also arousal at his primal urge. You know you should be more upset but you find yourself just melting into a puddle at his unabashed behavior. I mean honestly you wore those in hopes that he might see them anyways.  

"I'll buy you as many as you want, if you let me rip them off of you,” he grins in feigned apologeticness. At your expression he continues, this time earnestly, "M’sorry, just can’t wait anymore.” And with those words, Rafayel sheaths himself into you. You yelp at the alarming stretch, his girth much more than you’re used to. Even with the thick slick of your combined orgasms, it’s slightly painful to accommodate him.

Simultaneously, Rafayel cries out huskily as he enters you, your grip down there absolutely strangling his erection. The finish of your first climax thickly coats his cock, but it’s just barely enough to offset the stretch from how thick he is. His strong arms hold you securely in place as his pelvis slowly begins thrusting up into you, pushing you up the wall at every stroke. 

The angle he has you in meant every single thrust hits your cervix, his cock unbelievably lengthy. The curvature causes every stroke to drag deliciously against your g spot which makes you cream uncontrollably at each thrust, a ring of white forming at the base of his cock that splashes into you with every vigorous stroke. Your clit rubs roughly against his pelvis, his coarse happy trail rubbing against it with every movement, stimulating your body beyond belief.

"Fuck you’re taking me so well baby,” Rafayel moans into your ear, swallowing another mouthful of your aroma. You whimper as you feel him getting unbelievably harder at your scent alone, his solid flesh brushing against every single corner of your gummy walls. His veins throb inside of you as he twitches in pleasure. "So fucking tight, all for me yeah?” 

"Raf, s’big. Feel s’good,” you slur, the haze of ecstasy starting to cloud your consciousness. His thrusts go harder, deeper, at your praises, and you cry out, unable to stop your thighs, and simultaneously your cunt, from tightening around him. 

A strangled moan leaves his lips at your movements, his damp forehead pressing against yours as one of his hands leave your thighs to grip the wall next to you. "Sh-shit are you always this tight or is this jus’ for me?”

Before you can respond, Rafayel is babbling huskily into your ear again, "Wish you could see yourself right now. You look so beautiful, so fucked out, all for me huh?” 

Your eyes squeeze shut at his filthy words, and you can’t help but clench down on him again. Your profuse arousal coats the hair along his pelvis, creating the most filthy and lewd noises as Rafayel continues to bounce you onto his cock, his stamina absolutely unreal. Your lips chant his name, over and over, your brain only filled with him. 

"Look at me Y/N, need to see you,” Rafayel begs into your neck, still absolutely inhaling your pheromones, getting harder at every intake, "Jesus you smell so fucking good.”

You force your eyes open, fighting the ecstasy from taking over completely. As he shifts to stare into your eyes, he gives you the most gorgeous Rafayel smile that threatens to short circuit your brain and stop your heart. There’s an overwhelming swirl of emotions in his purple-blue eyes: lust, mischief, adoration, respect, longing, and…so much love. 

It’s all enough to make you want to confess the feelings you yourself had forced deep down, trying desperately to forget them for the sake of your friendship and working relationship. Rafayel keeps staring into your eyes, straight into your soul, and you finally open your mouth to try and find the words, "I–”

But instead, he cuts you off, bending down so your lips brush against each other again, "I know.” With those words, he presses himself needily into your waiting mouth

Grateful that he doesn’t need you to say the words, you return his kiss with equal fervor, doing your best to convey all the things you had wanted to say.

The bruisingly passionate kiss pushes you towards the edge as Rafayel continues to bounce you ruthlessly onto his cock. You’re forced to pull away from his lips to let out a strangled cry of pleasure. Through the overwhelming ecstasy, Rafayel takes the opportunity to shove his hand in between your bodies, easily finding your clit. The stimulation forces you to scream out uncontrollably, your eyes and head rolling back into the wall. 

"Jesus look at how soaked you are Y/N,” he mumbles in awe, eyes glued to where your bodies connected, "Look, baby.”

At his urging, you force yourself to lift your head off the wall and glance down at his fervent ministrations. The sight you’re met is enough to make you finish all over him right then and there. 

The veins in Rafayel’s thick forearm bulge as he paws at your clit furiously, the slick glistening on his thick length and splatters as the force of his thrusts rattle you deliciously against the cold wall. As he pulls out of you entirely with each thrust, you can see the throb of each vein of his cock, aching to be thrust back inside you. 

"Raf-Rafayel,” you gasp out, "I–”

"I-I know baby, I can feel it. Squeezing the life out of me,” he groans, shifting your entire weight onto his right arm while his left forearm slams into the wall above your head, anchoring him and allowing him to fuck into you with a new mind numbing intensity. 

His chin digs into your shoulder as he hammers into you relentlessly, "Ffuuck baby, gonna make me cum all – shit – over you huh?”

The force of the orgasm that chases you is utterly blinding, and against your better judgment you plead with him, "P-please cum inside Raf, I want to feel you.”

You can feel his panting breath hitch by your ear, and he whispers, "Are you sure? Don’t tease me Y/N. Y-you can’t take it back. Please.”

"Won’t take it b-back,” you wail as his thrusts bruise your walls, the painful pleasure edging you closer and closer to your undoing. "Please Rafayel, need you inside me s’badly.”

At your begging, Rafayel goes absolutely insane. He slams you so vigorously against the wall that you can practically feel the entire house shake. Every throbbing thrust pushes against your more sensitive spots, bullying right into your cervix. His breath becomes increasingly erratic and he sinks his teeth into your neck to contain his throaty moans. 

The sudden sensation of his teeth against your pulse, so dangerously aggressive yet gently teasing, sends you barreling into your orgasm. "Cumming, cumming, m’cumming Raf,” you wail repeatedly, unable to form any other words as tears stream down your face and onto his ruined dress shirt. 

Your hand roughly tears at Rafayel’s hair as he continues to ravage both your clit and your aching hole, finally sending your body into the mind numbing explosion of your climax. Your cunt grips onto him for dear life, throbbing uncontrollably to the sloppy rhythm of his thrusts. You ride the endless waves of your orgasm, vision blurring as tears continue to spill from your eyes. 

"Raf, s’too much,” you whimper, fingers releasing his hair and reaching down to scratch at his back, trying to relieve any of the overwhelming pleasure that threatened to make you lose consciousness. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about how you were destroying Rafayel’s expensive shirt under your nails. Your legs tighten around his waist as he continues to pound you into the wall. You’re almost sure your body will be battered and bruise tomorrow, not that you’d complain. 

"M’sorry,” he pants, but only thrusts harder and faster, "Jus’ hold onto me love. M’so – ffuuck – so fucking close.” You nod obediently, still riding the last receeding waves of your own orgasm, pussy quivering around every ridge and vein on his shaft. 

"Jesus if you could feel how tight you’re squeezing me right now,” Rafayel grits through clenched teeth, "You want me to cum inside you that bad? That you’re gonna force it out of me?”

Your lids feel so heavy as the pleasure of your orgasm ebbs into exhausted satisfaction, and you murmur, "M’not doing anything Raf, you jus’ feel so good. So deep.”

At your praises, Rafayel lets out a strangled groan and comes undone inside of you. You cry out as the warmth of his spend fills you, soothing the ache from the ravaging your poor cunt just took. He shoots rope after rope of it into you, a never ending stream of him emptying inside of you.

Rafayel rests his forehead against yours, his forearm still using the wall above your head to support him. You both pant into each other as the quivering of your cunt squeezes every last drop of him inside you. He shivers at the feeling of your womanhood throbbing around his softening member, completely spent.

Rafayel does his best to keep himself, and you, upright. His arms shake slightly, the aftershocks of his own orgasm devastating every muscle in his body. You can feel his biceps trembling, you fight to keep your eyes open, "S’okay Raf I can stand.”

"Okay love,” he murmurs into your hair, taking in one last whiff of your scent, before pressing a gentle kiss onto your forehead. You whimper as he slips out of you, your sore hole still wanting nothing more to be filled by Rafayel. You do your best to ignore the thick streaks of your collective spend dripping down your legs. As you unhook your thighs and let your feet touch the floor, your body gives out.

Rafayel catches you before your knees can crash into the tiled bathroom floor. You don’t have to look at his face to know he’s smirking at you.

"Need me to carry you baby?”

As you hold yourself up clutching his arm, you narrow your eyes at him, "No. Shut up.”

Rafayel chuckles, the smile in his eyes glowing brightly at you, "Come on Y/N, let me take care of you.”

Your snappy refusal is cut off by your squeal as Rafayel scoops you into his arms, like a princess. You wince at the feeling of the smearing of dampness between your thighs as Rafayel hooks his arms under your thighs. You hadn't even noticed that he’d put his belt back on. 

"Always with the theatrics Rafayel,” you grin, unable to stop yourself from burying your face into his chest. He smiles in response as he carries you through his home. You breathe in Rafayel’s scent, an intoxicating blend of sea salt, cardamom, and arousal. 

"You love me.” 

You sigh to yourself, love him you absolutely did. But that was a conversation you two would need to have another day. 

Looking up, you find yourself in Rafayel’s room, his white curtains billowing as the night time breeze cascades through them. As Rafayel sets you down on his plush king sized bed, your phone rings from the inside of his pocket. You’d almost forgotten you’d given him your phone when Thomas had called earlier. 

The phone keeps ringing as Rafayel sits besides where you lay, attention focused solely on you. You pat his thigh, "Raf? Can you pick up my phone?”

Rafayel grimaces as he grabs your cell phone from his slack pockets. "It’s just Thomas,” he grumbles like a child, "I told him not to call again.”

He takes one look at your unamused expression and sighs in defeat, "Fine fine.” 

Rafayel picks up the phone, snapping, "What Thomas?” 

"Speaker phone,” you mouth at him, only able to hear Thomas’s erratic mumbles through the phone. He rolls his eyes, but puts the call on speaker, holding it up between you two.

"You guys better be half dead in a ditch or actually dead,” he threatens sulkily, "How could you guys not show up?”

"Didn’t I say not to call again?” Rafayel fires back, but his tone is teasing. You know Rafayel cares about Thomas a lot, even if he makes the agent’s life hell. 

"Thomas, I'm so sorry! I’ll make it up to you I swear,” you apologize, feeling horribly guilty. You could only imagine how many angry sponsors and reporters he had to deal with. 

As Rafayel holds the phone with one hand for you to speak into, he notices your black dress had ridden up to reveal glistening streaks pooling down your legs. He uses the index finger of his free hand to scoop up the spend that continues to drip down your thighs. Your breath hitches as he smirks at you, his hand creeping up further, into your inner thigh. 

"You owe me so many dinners,” Thomas grumbles, but you have a difficult time paying attention to the rest of his words as Rafayel’s hands venture further up, dangerously. You give him a warning look, but his fingers only trail up further to tease you, grazing against your bare slit. 

"Are you guys even listening to me?” Thomas demands through the phone, his tone is as pouty as Rafayel normally is.

"Y-yes, I'm sorry,” you try to keep your voice as steady as possible, "I'll uh, I'll get you take out tomorrow!” You swat at Rafayel’s lingering hands but he doesn’t budge. His ears are pink and you notice his breaths are coming out in short pants as he quietly climbs onto the bed at your feet. You do your best to keep your own moans from bursting uncontrollably out of your lips as his fingers relentlessly tease you.

"Yes, and I want boba too. With extra – wait. What are you guys doing?” Rafayel and your eyes snap to each other and then to the phone. You’re about to speak when Thomas’s shrill voice cuts in again.

"You guys better not be doing what I think you’re doing! I swear to g–”

“‘Kay gotta go bye bye Thomas love you!” Rafayel interrupts sheepishly, ending the call with his thumb. There’s a brief moment of disbelief and silence before you both burst out into laughter. 

You clutch your stomach, trying to catch your breath as the uncontrollable giggles keep coming. But the thought of Thomas makes you feel guilty again, "Rafayel maybe we can still make it to the party if we hurry. We can’t just leave Thomas –”

Rafayel shushes you with his finger, his hair falling into his eyes as he leans over you, "I just got an idea for a painting and I have to start right now.” 

You’re no stranger to Rafayel’s spontaneous bouts of inspiration. In the past, he’d literally drag you to the oceanside and not ten minutes into the excursion, he’d race home needing to get started on an idea he had right then and there. And sometimes he’d forget you at the beach.

"Right now? But we’re not in the studio,” you squirm as Rafayel leans closer to your face, shifting his body so that he’s kneeling at your feet, in between your legs. 

"Oh. I meant a different kind of painting. Maybe on your stomach,” your brows furrow in confusion at his words as he smirks mischievously at you. You squeak as he climbs to hover over you, his body pressed against your still sensitive areas. Your body heats up again as the feel of his hardening cock against you. 

His thumb presses against your bottom lip, the salty taste of him invading your senses once more, "Or maybe…on your beautiful face.”

The implications of his words finally hits you all at once, and your face burns like a wildfire. You hit his shoulder weakly and unconvincingly, already succumbing to the arousal pooling back in your thighs as you watch the desperate need return to his eyes. 

"R-Rafayel!” 

"Then again you’re already a piece of art,” he murmurs, his voice groggy with desire. He presses a kiss to your parted lips, then to your exposed collarbone, and then to your covered breasts, "But you know me. I like to take my time with my art.”  Oh you were utterly fucked.

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

[when-wax-wings-melt]

Y'all wanted the presentation? Here's the presentation. Image descriptions are below the cut!

(technically this wasnt part of the assignment, which was "write an essay and read at least one full page to the class" so the reason why there's those huge blocks of text is because that is taken directly from the essay. i can condense things if I WANT to condense them)

[ID: 15 screenshots of a powerpoint presentation. The text is either white or gray, and the theme is various shades of purple, typically with bubbles of dark/light purple and images.

Slide one: Title reading "Keeper of the Lost Cities: A Love-Hate-Love Relationship, And What It Can Do To Your Psyche" with three images on the side. The first image is a meme of two stick figures, the first saying "kotlc lore is second nature to us rabid fans so it's easy to forget that the average person only knows the average special ability count and one or two vackers", the second figure saying "and valin, of course," and the first saying "of course." with text at the bottom reading "Even when they're trying to compensate for it, experts in anything wildly overcompensate the average person's familiarity with their field." The other two images are of Shannon Messenger, a white woman with blonde hair. The images are captioned "The dastardly mastermind behind it all" and "meet Shannon Messenger".

Slide Two: Title reading "Background" with a block of text and two images. The text reads "In total, the Keeper of The Lost Cities (KOTLC) series has over 7000 pages, split between nine and a half books (Book 8.5 was, uselessly, a novella) with a planned tenth coming in late 2024, and a graphic novel dropping in November. It’s the kind of series that hooks you the same way a fisherman hooks a fish: with a promise of a treat that goes very, very unfulfilled." The top image is the cover of the first keeper of the lost cities book, captioned with "book one of what will soon consume my entire brain for years and years and years" and the bottom image is a fish staring at the top image as if it is a tasty treat, captioned "Poor, innocent little 6th grade me".

Slide Three: A block of text reading "This is to say: KOTLC is a good series, at least at first. It’s certainly been my core obsession for a good (or bad) five years. It’s a hook because you can’t escape once you’ve begun. It’s my own personal brand of heroine, as Edward Cullen might say if Bella were a too-long book series that doesn’t resolve any plotlines or character arcs and instead piles more information on top of worldbuilding until contradictions are more plentiful than the packed main cast." An image of Edward Cullen from twilight is captioned "Me, apparently".

Slide Four: A small caption at the top reads "If the series ever ends you can call me Brant when Jolie asked him to leave the Neverseen the way I will burn down my house and kill everyone I love (haha just a joke to get us going)​" with an image of a huge explosion below it. Text reads, "Basically, KOTLC is a good series, but the idea of recommending it feels like I’d be violating several articles of the Geneva Conventions. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. The thought of it ending is an impossibility on the scale of the apocalypse and I hope (I'd rather) the world ends before this series does."

Slide Five: Titled "Queer-Coding in the Lost Cities" with the image of Sophie Foster and Fitz Vacker on the side. Text reads, "The queer-coding doesn't just stem from Sophie’s dedicated denial of both her worth as a human being and her desire to kiss her pretty girl friends. A connection called a “Cognate Bond” is often referred to in the text as the closest two elves can become, emotionally and mentally. Cognates exist when two Telepaths (such as Sophie) have such a deep and unbreakable trust bond that they become more skilled together than they were apart. In creating and maintaining this bond, they have to complete trust exercises and not hold back secrets keeping them from total confidentiality. Sophie’s cognate is her friend (and love interest, and, debatably, ex-boyfriend) Fitz, whose romantic relationship was in a large part focused on their cognate one. Their trust exercises involve staring into each other’s eyes, holding hands, having matching rings, and Fitz telling Sophie that she’s the only person he can truly trust. Fitz also asks his father at one point if cognates are allowed to date each other— his father affirms the statement."

Slide Six: Titled "Queer-Coding: Qualden, Tiertice, and such other 🤨🏳️‍🌈 moments​" with the text, "Notably, Alden has the authority to do so since he himself was a cognate, only undergoing a nasty breakup— sorry, only losing the bond after his cognate, Quinlin, kept too many secrets. It’s implied that two other characters were once almost Cognates, only to grow too far apart when one of them, Prentice, has his sanity forcibly shattered and is locked in prison, leaving his (gay lover) best friend, Tiergan (code name Granite), to raise his son. The choice to parallel Fitz/Sophie, Alden/Quinlin, and Tiergan/Prentice was possibly not a conscious one, since Messenger has never attempted to hint at the existence of homosexuality before, but it still resonates with hundreds of queer teen readers who look at the portrayal of utter devotion and trust between two men and think, wow. this is what i see in myself.​" The image is a quote from Neverseen, reading "'What did you give him?' Granite asked, cradling Prentice like a baby. Prentice's head lolled to the side, his body limp and pale." / "Granite held Prentice tighter, whispering, 'It's going to be okay.'"

Slide Seven: Titled "Honorary Errol "I have five identities and they're all the true me" Forkle Mention​". Smaller text below reads "Strut it Magnate "I inspired Loki but don’t even ask about the horse thing" Leto!​" A picture of Mr. Forkle is next to a tumble post by me about Forkle being trans based on the Loki thing. The slide is decorated with several trans flags.

Slide Eight: Titled "Beauty Standards" with text reading "Speaking of things Shannon Messenger did subconsciously, it’s so painfully clear that this series was written by a white American woman that it makes me break out in hives. Messenger establishes very early on in the series that all elves, no matter who they are, are gorgeous in comparison to humans. For some reason that I’m sure has no correlation to Sophie and therefore Messenger’s personal biases (aka Western hetero/cisnormativity and gender roles), every single elven character is slim with clear skin and no glasses. For some reason, beards seem to be impossible for elves to grow naturally, since the only time facial hair ever appears on anyone’s face is when they take an elixir to change their appearance." An image of Sophie with her human family is captioned "Sophie with her ugly nasty disgusting human family apparently​".

Slide Nine: Text reading "Valin is a member of “the drooly boys” who, had they been “human, would’ve been skinny, with acne and braces. Since they were elves, they were fairly good-looking—or they could’ve been if they hadn’t slicked their hair into greasy ponytails” (Messenger KOTLC 170). It seems elves have evolved past the need for brown eyes, acne, crooked teeth, facial hair beyond eyebrows, and variations in body fat—not to mention most other features that make people unique. ​There is indeed a single elf who is fat and even has wrinkles (elves also don’t physically age past 30, fun fact). He alters his appearance with berries that swell his skin, making him the only unique body type besides Sophie’s human family, who are consistently thrown in terrible comparison to her new, movie-star-looking adoptive parents. The berries also make him smell, interestingly enough.​" Images of Councillors Zarina, Terik, and Clarette line the right side of the slide.

Slide Ten: Text reading: "By portraying the elves as the standard for beauty and then removing any pimple, stretch mark, fat roll, body hair, crooked tooth, big nose, or any of the thousands of features that add depth to faces and bodies, Messenger tells us that perfection lies in eliminating all “flaws.” She tells her young readers that they are desirable if they look like Sophie, or Biana, or Keefe—not Stina with her curly hair, or Dex’s too-skinny arms, or Forkle’s large stomach, or my human body.​" The family portrait of the Vackers is also there.

Slide Eleven: Text reading: "Mostly, what defines KOTLC is how it’s interpreted rather than the content itself. I look at Sophie Foster and see parts of myself, but that does not make her me. These characters always feel so painfully real, desperately relatable, as if Messenger cobbled together a main cast from bits of my life, but they are not. In the end, they are just characters. ​In the end, it’s just a series made for middle schoolers, in the same way the sun is just the sun, and the stars are just there to twinkle merrily and not to be explored.​" Sophie on the cover of Exile is also there.

Slide Twelve: Text reading "Literally the day after I finished this presentation a new Marella short story came out in the paperback version of Stellarlune (book 9). This is a quote in the short story:​" with a picture of the short story of Marella being gay about Linh. Also on the slide is "🚨🚨🚨Alert Alert!🚨🚨🚨​" "🤨🤨🤨🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️​" and "Everyone is excited about Marellinh canon but I think she will simply never acknowledge it again.​"

Slide Thirteen: Just the text "Oh, By The Way, This Series Is Off The Walls Insane​"

Slide Fourteen: Text reading "Things that happen in this series: Alicorns have sex and then there is a graphic birth scene (but the Forkle as Loki thing is going too far 🤨)​, Love Interest confesses his feelings by telling Sophie he wants her to be assigned to marry him by the government​, An ogre bodyguard plays matchmaker with her charge and his crush (successfully)​, There's a guy who can sense "potential" except is definitely lying about this​, Villains die so disappointingly. So far we have "hit on head with rock" "smushed by door opened too quickly" "exploded" "fell into evil birthing sauce" (this last one was cool though)​, and A school principal becomes president​" Three tumblr screenshots and memes detailing other things that happen in the book are also there.

Slide Fifteen: THE END. A screenshot captioned with "Credits for the fake book 7 cover go to @/aphelea on tumblr​" shows a canva/booktok style fake cover for Flashback, with a dancing couple, a horse, and the words "he was a boy. she was a horse. could I make it any more obvious?"

/end id]

[napttune]

Twisted Wonderland World Building Headcanons (Part 1)

Shatterose Archipelago

(Reference picture)

An archipelago is located just beside Shaftlands containing a large library which carries all the stories of popular figures in Twisted Wonderland. It’s known as the largest library in the history, along with the biggest collection of historical texts. It’s preserved with the most utter care by S.W.O.R.D due to the importance the library holds.

(P.S: S.W.O.R.D is basically my headcanoned magic cops or an international law enforcement run by all the governments.)

The Shatterose Archipelago is a group of islands which belonged to the Fearless Princess. The archipelago was a gift from her lover who was known as a beast due to a curse before the curse was broken by the Fearless Princess.

The Fearless Princess opened the Shatterose Archipelago for everyone to reside, it had become a place of residence for outcasts. From then on, the Fearless Princess had an idea to expand the already large library she had by adding another room specifically made for collections of historical texts throughout the years. As years went by, the library expanded into becoming the biggest library in existence.

The archipelago is ruled by a collection of families, though the most named of them all are the Chants and the Maudits. The Chants consists of a long line of mages who became apart of the law enforcement system or as S.W.O.R.D members. The Chants are powerful mages rivaling the power of high-ranking faes, making them feared by the community.

Their method of punishment usually involve a curse, a breakable one most of the time. But the first time they casted an unbreakable curse was from a conflict involving the Maudit family.

For a few decades, people within the Shatterose Archipelago have been suffering from lack of food, water, and health. This was caused by the Maudit’s family insistence in raising tax prices which caught the attention of the Chant family.

They caught the family in the act and asked the villagers what’s the perfect curse for them. The villagers let the Chants do the creative thinking but with one rule; it must be an unbreakable curse. The Chants decided to curse the Maudits into wretched, horrible-looking beasts and transferred all their magical power into their beastly form, leaving their human form weak. They would be forced to enact their magic in their beast form, but the Chants decided to give the Maudits leniency by making it possible for the Maudits to preform high-ranked magic in their human form but it requires them to be in the acceptance of oneself.

The Maudits are no stranger to being weak. They are a powerful bunch, not as powerful as the Chants, but still powerful. However the curse unknowingly on both parties made their magic stronger. Their beastly form can hold much more magical strength when in their human form they can’t due to their inherited weak bodies. As the Maudits grew friendly with magic, using it with everything, their beast form grew stronger and stronger. Overtime the Maudits eventually find a way to preserve their human form without “calming their minds” by golden bracelet inspired by the transformation potion used by mermaids.

This curse made the villagers refused to listen, even their guards, so they rallied and vowed to follow every regime which the Chant presents, leaving the Maudit bare of any control for good. Nowadays the villagers remained hostile towards the Maudits, making claims about the families while simultaneously not knowing anything about them.

Besides the library, there is a famous festival dedicated to the Fearless Princess featuring an invention fair, a ball, and multiple plays. The Shatterose festival celebrates the birthday of the first outcast, the Beast, who first inhabits the island and aided the Fearless Princess along her journey in traveling the world.

[onlinesikhstore]

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[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

Yanno the fascinating thing about you writing mother/son incest is that rather than go for Lust inspite of the familial connection, you explore a lust and want BECAUSE of the familial tie. You are their mother first, before lover, before woman. They're so goddamn twisted because there's not even a hint of shame, guilt or doubt.

Like there's almost a perverse delight about the fact that Childe and Ayato see their mothers as Women. because as a parent, the ingrained sense of seeing her as a sexless being, that's just not there at all. They don't turn away from it, they revel in it, in their eyes, that connection is romantic and unbreakable because they could never escape the fact that they are mothers and sons. And so they have no moral quandary about breaking any taboo because that taboo doesn't exist in the first place.

Like it sounds strange to say but the way that Childe greets his mother and explicitly refers her as "Mama" and her mundane reply at the end made me recoil. It's so ordinary! It's utterly platonic and yet it's made perverse and obscene because their relationship is forever warped and changed because of Childe's actions.

And I think that attests to how good your writing is.

i was discussing this with my beloved vic in the dms but YES!! this exactly!! i think childe and ayato are perfect candidate for this SPECIFIC exploration which is why i've chosen them for it (and i believe with all the sincerity in my heart that gojo would also feel this way in this dynamic). some characters would experience the shame of desire in this dynamic (scaramouche is a great example) but those two EXPLICITLY do not and that's important not only to their character but all of their choices

to childe and ayato, there is no shame in the act of loving their mother in any context. they're mamas boys! they're the dedicated son, the one who recognizes her hardships over all else! there is no boundary between desire and love. what is a husband and wife to a mother and son? it's something really particularly able to explored in that dynamic because of how society structures that relationship. they revel in it because of what it allows and dictates, what it makes them. any good mother would never put her husband over her son etc.

IM GLAD THAT THE DETAIL TOWARDS THE END MADE YOU FEEL A LITTLE SICK!! BECAUSE IT IS SO SICK!! because everything is different but some things never change like the fact they were born to you! but to them that's what makes them happiest! a bond unable to be severed!

[starryevermore]

Sam and colby vs. the world

Okay, so here (I’ve also attached a screenshot below the cut), I talked about the little blurb about the description Colby gave for his Stereo show and how Sam gets a capital letter whereas Colby doesn’t do the same for himself, and said I should make a think piece about that, so that’s what’s here today:

I only thought of this because, when I was in early high school, one of my friends wrote an entire story in which the main character (who was the narrator) never capitalized the letter “i” when referring to herself. It was a way for her to show that she didn’t think herself to be important. However, by the end of the story, she grows in her confidence and the final sentence has her finally capitalize the letter “i”. Which, got me thinking. In a lot of ways, Colby is very similar to that character my friend created. 

I wouldn’t say Colby isn’t confident in himself like my friend’s character was. However, I would say that Colby thinks far more highly of Sam than he does himself. Sam is the “smart one”, Sam is the one “more business minded”, Sam is [insert really good adjective here]. And that’s a good thing, in a lot of ways. If you’re going to have a business with someone, if you’re going to live with a friend, you should have a good enough relationship where you think and know them to be a good person. 

But, on a more personal level, you should also think that about yourself. And sometimes, you can peak through and see that Colby doesn’t have that same high opinion of himself. 

You notice it a lot anytime the boys take tests, be it the one for scuba diving or one of those “Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader” tests that they do. Colby always is hyping Sam up, mentioning how smart Sam is, how Sam helped him pass math in high school. And when Colby himself does well? I think he always looks genuinely surprised. Look at the third 25x25 video. Colby looked like he could hardly believe that the tests had been switched and he’d gotten a higher score than Sam. 

And, something that @colby-brxck​ mentioned about how a few years back, Sam had made a video titled “A Video to Future Colby Brock, My Best Friend” and talked about how he didn’t know if they would still be friends in the future. And Colby’s response? To make a video response back titled “A Video to My Future Best Friend, Sam Golbach”, because he wants Sam to know that he’ll always be his best friend. (colby-brxck worded it so much better but for the life of me I cannot find that post).

Colby’s gut reaction is to always reassure. Not just with Sam, but with most if not all of his friends. But it’s always been most prominent with Sam. That’s his best friend, the man he’s lived with since they moved to LA. They’ve been through literally everything together, the good, the bad, the ugly. Fuck, Colby literally got an entire tattoo dedicated to Sam and how through life and death, they’ll always be there for each other and they’ll always be each other’s best friends. 

We’ve talked a lot about how Colby’s a sentimental person. He’s kept so many things from his adventures: a piece of a disco ball, the license plate, etc. He still has his pillow from Kansas. He has so much money that he could buy a new car, but instead he still drives his Toyota Corolla because it was a gift from his mom. But the most sentimental thing Colby has in his life? His best friend. 

Again, @colby-brxck​ talked about this before, but whenever Sam and Colby are talking, the other one always makes a point to look at each other directly in the eyes. Whether it be in lives, videos, stories, whatever. If Sam’s talking, Colby’s making eye contact. If Colby’s talking, Sam’s making eye contact. They’re constantly letting each other know that they’re here for each other. 

And how many times have they joked about being married to each other? How often do they literally choose to live right next to each other? Colby hates filming videos alone, so who does he always go to? Sam.

Through this unbreakable bond, you can tell just how much Colby loves and respects his best friend. (And, it goes both ways, Sam, while not having the same way of showing his love as Colby, very clearly has a special place in his heart for his best friend.) He thinks so, so highly of Sam. And you can tell in the way he talks about him, how he talks to him. 

But, even more so, I think you can tell in the way that that description for the Stereo show was written. And you know, there’s always the argument that I’m making things too deep, that not everything has some deeper meaning, but I also believe in the notion that life is meaningless until we give it meaning. I think you can make anything mean as much or as little as you want. So, I think that that little paragraph can mean something more. 

You give capital letters to important things. Names of things, places, important events. You use it to start sentences, to show that you’re saying something new. Certain words in titles have to be capitalized, but not others. The notion of a capital letter literally says “hey!! this thing is important!! pay attention to it!!” 

And Colby is the type of person to exclusively use lowercase letters. Look at this twitter. Everything is lowercase. He does that intentionally. But, when Sam’s name is involved in this little description? Sam got a capital letter, and Colby’s “i” didn't. Because Sam is his best friend, and deserves all of the respect that comes with a capital letter. 

It’s no secret that Sam is under-appreciated in the fandom. But, it’s always been Sam and colby vs. the world. Sam deserves the love, the respect, the appreciation that Colby receives so much more easily. 

And, so, maybe he intentionally wrote Sam with a capital “S”, or maybe it autocorrected that way and colby just left it like that, because that’s his best fucking friend and he’ll always make sure that Sam gets the respect he deserves. 

Because colby always gets the limelight. And Sam deserves it too.

[the-kings-of-games]

GET TO KNOW MY SHIP OT3 Edition: Kizunashipping

Character Profiles:

Jack Atlas - 20, blond, 6'3"/190 cm (manga height), oldest brother, no nicknames ("I'm not a mind reader, but Jack refers to himself as king in his head." —Yūsei)

Crow Hogan - 18, ginger, 5'7"/170 cm, youngest brother, no nicknames ("Crow-sama doesn't count if you're the only one who uses it. Just stick with bird." —Jack)

Yūsei Fudō - 19, raven with orange highlights, 5'8"/173 cm, middle child, no nicknames ("I think of Yūsei as a crab. It's the hair." —Crow)

How it happened: takes up the entire scale

When they first met as kids, Jack assumed Crow got bullied a lot for being small, Crow said the kid equivalent of "fuck off," and Yūsei invited him to duel. It was a tense two seconds of a first impression, but it ended very well and the three became thick as thieves. Over time, as they grew up, they got even closer, calling each other brothers and friends, a relationship that started immediately but also took the time to strengthen and become deeper. It was both intentional and unintentional at the same time as they did wanted to stay together but didn't expect it to ended the way it did. ❤️

Relationship attitude: as casual as they are dedicated, affections leaning on PDA

Kizuna is very casual about their relationship in that they don't have the need to tell the whole world, and they really enjoy small and rather private intimacy together. Crow is the most public about touching with Yūsei the most subtle ("reserved"). Jack is closer to Yūsei's level of public affections.

Crow loves being held and isn't embarrassed about being carried when he feels playful, asking for quick kisses when he feels like it. Yūsei is the type to do lingering touches, placing his hand on his friends' skin and taking them by the hand to lace their fingers, or just to squeeze, and he adores quiet, lazy moments in bed. Jack likes to hold his brothers, whether it's Crow on his lap or Yūsei lying on top of him. He likes feeling their weight against him and never complains about being used like a pillow or a stuffed animal.

Their dedication to each other is that they love each other and will always come at a time of need, but they understand each other's boundries and that each one of them is his own person. They never talked about having a physical or romantic relationship with other people, but they haven't really thought about it either. They're content with what they have, finding both family and friendship in each other.

Misadventures: depending on the situation, any one of them is getting them out of trouble and/or into trouble. How they do it differs from person to person.

Overall, Kizuna doesn't try to get into trouble on purpose, only when they have to or are asked to. Usually, Crow is told about it and faces it head on, Jack finds it accidentally, and Yūsei just has trouble following him. It can be a mess sometimes, but one of them is always there to bail the other two out; other times, it's two of them bailing one out. The trouble might not involve all of them, but at the end of the day, they'll all see it to the end one way or anyone.

Handling conflict: slow to forgive if someone else messes up badly, arguements are mostly Squabble

The arguments are mostly kept between them, Yūsei on the sideline. Crow is always telling Jack to pick up the slack, and Jack can't keep a job. They clash because of this, but serious fights rarely occur as this echoes a lot of their arguments as kids. Crow might get mad at Jack in the morning, but he's always happy to have Jack come home at night. Yūsei keeps out of these things because he already knows Jack won't change and Crow is stubborn. He almost never upsets Jack or Crow to the extent that they upset each other because he pulls off the best disappointed expression and they lose their steam quickly.

However, on the other, if someone else upsets or hurts one of them, they're all up in arms, ready to throw dukes cards. They are good duelists who also know how to use their fists. Yūsei tries to be reasonable most of the time, but he can and will hold a grudge, seeking some sort of retribution. Jack's a bit more vocal, using his tongue to make people back off while staring them down. Crow's the one who tries to work things out, but he'll take the bait if it's the right kind. Jack and Crow have the shorter fuses, but Yūsei can be just as slow to forgive.

Budget: Crow mostly takes care of the budget since he's the one with a stable business, and he's very careful about it. Yūsei provides a bit of extra cash with his handyman jobs and makes sure to record everything. Somehow, Jack is still able to purchase his expensive coffee. They are almost always close to being in the red.

Makes decisions: As the family accountant, Crow gets the final say on matters that needs to dip into their budget, ranging from inventory to traveling. All of them are capable of making decisions on their own, but it often comes in full circle.

Plans dates: They don't really go on dates; they just spend a lot of time together, whether it's going out of a ride and a duel or just being in the same room with one another. All they want is each other's company and presence, just like when they were growing up. They all have their own individual rooms for their own privacy, but very rarely would someone say no to spending the night together, or the afternoon, the morning, and the bit of time in between.

Besides, they can't afford to go on any of those popular date plans, there's not enough in their budget.

Cooks: They all cook, to varying degrees. Crow cooks the most, but it's mostly basic meals and to make sure everyone is eating. Yūsei cooks to pick up some responsibility when Crow is doing overtime or can't do it himself. Jack cooks too, but it's a lot of extravagant meals that taste great but isn't exactly the most affordable.

Cleans: They all have their own responsibilities at Poppo Time. (It is the sole reason that Jack doesn't get the boot, lol.) Yūsei handles the garage while Jack makes sure the upstairs floor is kept clean. He also does laundry. (Jack likes to live in a clean environment, so if he must, he'll clean.) Crow handles smaller chores like washing the dishes and buying groceries (since he's likely already out).

First to confess their feelings: Crow! He loves saying, "I love you," even as a kid, and he isn't embarrassed or shy about it. He loves it when Jack and Yūsei say it back.

First to apologize in a fight: Whoever realizes what they did wrong first. They might be stubborn, but they do understand that it's right to apologize when they're wrong or acted terribly. They were raised by a good woman after all.

The best caretaker when the others are sick: Jack! He's the one who can sit still the longest, usually with a book or a magazine, and stay by to see the first signs of discomfort. He has a strong sense of duty when it comes to taking care of his brothers when they're not well. He doesn't baby them (much), but he keeps track of when to do this and that very well. (He's actually good a time management.)

Does most of the speaking: They are all capable of speaking for themselves, but Jack is the one who likes to talk to people the most. He's a people person.

Sensitive to subtle changes in their partners: Yūsei! He's the observant type, even more so than his brothers, and catches things a lot more. He keeps a mental note of them and uses that information later for future use.

The one who proposes: None. They never get married or anything; they don't have the need to do so. It's enough that they chose to be together.

The one who would die to protect the others: This is all of them, but Yūsei would always volunteer first because he's like that.

Hogs the blanket: Crow. :3

Ticklish: "If you know the right spots, you can turn grumpy Jack and Yūsei into giggling ones!" —Crow

Good kisser: They all are, but Crow has the reputation. ;)

Irresponsible one: Depends. Jack's irresponsible for not being able to keep a stable job. Yūsei loses track of time a lot when working on the runners and forget to take care of himself. Crow likes to start shit with his brothers for giggles, already knowing the consequences of his actions.

Crow: . . . [hiccups]

Akiza: . . . Are you crying?

Crow: [hiccups] Yeah.

Akiza: Did you annoy Yūsei again?

Crow: Yeah. [sniffles]

.

Akiza: Did you learn anything this time?

Crow: . . . Never.

.

.

Here are a few of my Kizuna fics!:

Story of Old, rated T

Taking Care of Crow, rated G

Unbreakable Bonds, rated G

School Days, rated T

[the-writing-mobster]

Can you gush all of them, please? Did we really miss something?😲 PLEASE! I'M BEGGING YOU! Is this what you want? Well you finally got it. I'm begging. Please for the love of God let us get to know more about it. Please God damnit!)

Ayyyy! Nice reference!

"PLEASE! I'm begging you Muffet! Is this what you want? Well you finally got it. I'm begging. Please for the love of God let me see her. Please God damnit." 

Excerpt from 50

In the wise words of Ms. Muffet... “Get up.”

This post contains soft spoilers.

🌍 World building! 🌍

"Mhm… it's all artificial. A marriage of science and magic. Like those stars… not real. They're wishing stones. They're supposed to relay messages, times and dates… but everyone just kind of likes looking at them. Makes the nights down here not so bad, you know?"

Excerpt from 21

Trivia hour:

The fake moon and sun of the Underground was built by Dr. Gaster! Basically, there are these two large lamps that scale a glass dome at the tip top of the hollow mountain. This glass dome also has the "wishing stones" aka the fake stars that blink and relay messages via light morse code. There are entire jobs dedicated to deciphering the messages. It's mostly maintenance, nothing of any political importance.

The faux moon and sun only appear in Snowden and the Capitol. The other districts are pretty submerged in the deep caverns of the underground.

I basically created this system because when I was writing I wanted beautiful sunset imagery because nothing to me is more romantic than sunsets, and I realized— “Oh shit! They're underground!...hmmmm” and then I cracked my writer knuckles and started worldbuilding!

It also paints a clear contrast between the surface and the underground. Frisk herself is in complete awe of the inner mechanics and workings of the Underground, and she is willing to completely start over and a live a life down there. Meanwhile the monsters want... Real sunlight. They want real stars. They want the surface. They want freedom.

Freedom for Frisk is completely different to freedom for the monsters, which will be shown in a future scene.

🥀 Frans 🥀

She couldn't remember who moved first, but one second they had been trapped in a staring contest, the next, she was pressed against him, his teeth biting desperately at her lips. She melted in his embrace, her soul humming with content, as if this was where she was always meant to be. 

They staggered back against the counter, and she moaned softly into his mouth as he pressed against her. They couldn't be close enough. They drove each other crazy. She didn't understand the craving they had for each other, but she definitely knew it was there. God, she needed him. For that moment she forgot that she was supposed to be mad. 

Excerpt from 31

God. These two can't control themselves when they're around each other and it only gets... worse? Better ( ? ) in part 4. Like seriously guys, they can't get their hands off each other. It's well deserved in my humble opinion. Sometimes I'm a little worried that y'all will get annoyed with how much they kiss but then I'm like “why would they get annoyed??? That's like... The whole reason they're reading this...🥴”

Yeah I read WDYW for the plot.

The plot:

OOOH, Actually there's a scene in 62 between the two of them that's so sweet. I actually got the inspiration for it when I was rewatching Hunger Games Catching Fire. 😌 (God it's so good)

Also— Oh my God guys... Guys... Chapter 64. They are so powerful. That's all I'mma say. Be looking forward to it. Power couple to the max.

💀 Gasters 💀

ACK I wrote a flashback scene in Papyrus's pov and my girlfriend and I were both like 🥺🥺😭😭 because of how heartbreaking it. Soooo just be prepared for sad skeleton boy hours.

Another thing I want to just kind of joke about is this; how do the skeletons even talk? I like to think I'm at least semi realistic with my portrayal of the skeletons. One day I was literally on a hike and I was mouthing a scene to myself (as one does) and I say the word "bitch" (don't ask) and I suddenly stop and I'm like. “Bitch... Bitch ... Bah...BAH” (say Bitch slowly out loud lol) and I was like "SHIT YOU NEED LIPS TO MAKE THE BAH SOUND!” and I had an existential crisis for like the entire rest of my hike.

Anyway, the Skeleton brothers use magic for everything. That's how the undertale fandom waves away all illogical worldbuilding holes. “Oh? How do the skeletons make the Bah sound without lips? That's easy, ✨ magic ✨ ”

💅🏻 Villains 💅🏻

Ugghhhh MUFFET is diabolical, but in Part 4 she does take a step back because Part 4 is Asgore's time to shine.

"You and your skeletons would do well to remember that this is my kingdom . And if you challenge me in my kingdom, or make promises you can't keep, you will suffer. I'll make sure of it. Keep this in mind Moxie , I like to play with my food."

Excerpt from 40

And BOY does he fulfill his promises. We do get to see more of his interactions with Alphys, which I'm excited to write.

I actually really love writing him. He has this affinity for poetry so any chance I feel that it's appropriate to have a little poem, I write one or I find a famous old poem written by Lewis Carroll or Edgar Allen Poe or something like that. In fact I have it as canon that Asgore would read Asriel a shit load of poems, and their favorite was Lewis Carroll and his nonsense poems like the Jabberwocky.

 Papyrus watched with an unbreaking gaze as Asgore flipped through the pages of a book. 

"Ah… here's a good one. Beware the Jabberwock, my son. The jaws that bite, the claws that catch…  beware the jubjub bird and shun the frumious bandersnatch… do you read poetry, Lieutenant?" 

Except from 28

That's all I've got for this post! I'll do some more gushing for other asks, but thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to rant about absolutely nothing!

[imagitory]

HPHM Profile: Carewyn Cromwell

<<<updated: 12/6/2020 // original template by @hogwarts-misery >>>

“I can’t just live my life however I want! Maybe I want to — sometimes I want to — sometimes I want to so much that I think of just saying ‘forget the Cursed Vaults! Forget about R and their death threats and the fear and the not-knowing-what’s-coming!’ But...I can’t. As long as Jacob is out there — as long as I don’t know whether he’s alive or dead — whether he needs my help or not — how can I put myself first?! How can I justify chasing the Quidditch Cup, or joining the Dueling Club, or singing in the Frog Choir, when anything great I might do won’t mean a thing, without my brother there cheering me on whether I win or lose!? How can I fight for my dreams...while not knowing if Jacob will be able to share them with me? What sort of person would I be? What sort of disgusting — selfish — cowardly — terrible person would I be, if I abandoned him!? How could I face my mum again — face myself again — if I just threw my brother away?!”

[PROFILE]

NAME | Carewyn Lane Cromwell

NICKNAMES | Carey (by her friends, especially Bill, Charlie, and Tonks); Winnie (by her mother); Pip, Pippa (by Jacob); Cursebreaker (by Andre) [Note: In AUs, Jacob calls Carewyn “Wyn” instead of Pip, as “Pippa” is a reference to the Robert Browning poem “Pippa Passes,” which often doesn’t exist in other universes. XD]

GENDER | Female (cisgender)

SEXUAL / ROMANTIC ORIENTATION | Asexual / Panromantic

[PERSONALITY]

In some ways, Carewyn is an ideal heroine. A bright, compassionate girl, she often finds herself drawn to those less confident than her and feels the urge to protect and take care of them. Even when she was very little, she ended up “mothering” her older brother Jacob by encouraging him to eat and sleep more and offering advice, just as much as he often “fathered” her by inspiring her and shielding her from any perceived threats. But don’t mistake this young Cursebreaker for a saint -- Carewyn actually is an incredibly proud person who protects her fragile, sensitive heart with a hard shell of seemingly unbreakable confidence and cool insight. There is nothing she hates more than showing her insecurities and fears, and so she does her best to always look her best and put her best face forward no matter what, even around the people she cares about. This means that almost none of her many friends have any idea about the demons Carewyn is secretly fighting in her pursuit of the Cursed Vaults and her brother. Carewyn dresses the part for whatever situation she’s in, and she always feels most comfortable when she feels in control and believes she has the moral high ground -- admittedly her moral compass is pretty strong on its own, but she also buries any more selfish and meaner feelings she has as deep as she can, pushing herself to be the best, most moral person she can be, even if it’s difficult for her. She wants to be everything that everyone needs, and unfortunately that can result in Carewyn setting standards that are way too high for herself and secretly resenting and berating herself whenever she falls short, or worse not even participating in something she thinks she can’t put all of herself into or wouldn’t do well in. Her self-loathing is so strong that when something traumatic happens to her (such as Jacob’s disappearance or the death of Redacted), she can suffer from severe spells of depression where she neglects her own well-being and as a consequence forcibly removes herself from the people around her so as not to let others see her in such a terrible state. Because of her own high standards for herself, as well, Carewyn also can be judgmental of others, not being prone to change her mind about a person easily. When backed into a corner, Carewyn can freeze up, but when her own self-preservation or her loved ones are threatened, she can bite back really hard, though she’ll almost always regret losing control after the fact. Carewyn has a very organized mind and works best when she has a plan and knows where she’s going at any given time -- ambiguity and mystery are not this girl’s friends. This sadly can result in her being a real stick in the mud, which makes her an easy target for pranks and mischief. Fortunately, despite her overly serious attitude, Carewyn has a nice dry sense of humor and is a very passionate, driven person. In her fifth year, she was even made a Prefect largely due to her protective, nurturing instincts, though it’s good to note that that doesn’t make her a rule follower. Carewyn only respects rules and the people enforcing them if they have earned her respect and she sees the reasoning behind them. If there’s one thing Carewyn can’t stand, it’s condescension. Carewyn’s core interests are singing (her favorite wizard band is the Weird Sisters and her favorite Muggle band is the Eurythmics), Charms, magical history, and magical creatures.

[BIOGRAPHY]

DATE OF BIRTH | August 29, 1973 (Virgo)

BLOOD STATUS | Half-Blood

FAMILY INFO | Carewyn is the second child and only daughter of Evan Bach and Lane Cromwell. Carewyn’s mother Lane alienated her parents, younger brother, and older sisters -- a well-respected, but very overbearing magical family called the Cromwells -- upon moving to Wales and marrying Evan, who was a Muggle. Unfortunately Evan and Lane’s marriage took a turn for the worse after Jacob was born. Jacob’s magical abilities peeked through at an early age and were interpreted by Evan as deliberate misbehavior despite Lane’s best attempts to diffuse any tension. Nine years into their marriage, Evan and Lane were surprised by a late addition to the family -- their daughter, Carewyn. Rather than bringing Evan and Lane closer together, however, Carewyn’s arrival only seemed to drive Evan further away, as he already had had no instincts about how to be a father to Jacob and felt even less sure about how to raise a daughter. Deciding it was better to give up and just let Lane do what was best rather than mess up, Evan withdrew from Carewyn almost completely, leaving Lane and even his son Jacob to look after her. Fortunately Jacob, an nine-year-old boy at the time of Carewyn’s birth, adored his little sister immediately and went out of his way to coddle and protect her however he could. When Jacob turned 11 and received his Hogwarts letter, Lane was finally allowed by law to tell Evan about her magical heritage and the Wizarding World, but by that point, Evan and Lane’s marriage was so rocky that the revelation finally made it buckle and fall apart. Evan left his family that very night, leaving Lane heartbroken. Knowing her family would insist upon her returning to their estate in Yorkshire if she went to them for financial help, Lane instead charted out alone and raised her two children completely on her own while working as a magical historian and Runes expert. Although Lane, Jacob, and Carewyn lived in poverty for almost all of Jacob’s school career and Carewyn’s childhood, the Cromwells managed to dig their way out of debt a year before Jacob disappeared, now sitting on the perimeter of “lower-middle class.”

MYERS-BRIGGS TYPE | INFJ “The Advocate”

[MAGICAL ABILITIES]

WAND | Hornbeam and dragon heartstring, 11 inches, inflexible (broken by Rakepick) // Laurel and phoenix feather, 12 inches, unyielding (nicknamed her “Excalibur wand”)

BOGGART | Voldemort [Carewyn’s greatest fear is a threat she has no hope of overcoming, fighting, escaping, or controlling...which, yeah, is Voldemort in a nutshell!]

ANIMAGUS FORM (IF ANY) | Robin

PATRONUS | Abraxan Winged Horse

[AFFILIATION]

HOUSE | Slytherin

QUIDDITCH POSITION (IF ANY) | She prefers playing Chaser in Quidditch friendlies, but she’s been reluctant to commit to the Slytherin team due to her extreme focus on finding her brother and fear of letting Orion and the others down.

PREFECT? | Yup!

[ACADEMICS]

BEST CLASS(ES) | Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic (thanks to her mum!)

WORST CLASS(ES) | Transfiguration, Divination

OWL SCORES | 

Charms - O

Transfiguration - O

Potions - O

Herbology - O

History of Magic - O

Care of Magical Creatures - O 

Defense Against the Dark Arts - O

[RELATIONSHIPS]

PARTNERS |

Andre — In the beginning, Carewyn was completely and totally dedicated romantically to Andre, having attended the Celestial Ball and gone on two dates with him. In the darkest part of her heart, though she was a bit afraid that she wouldn’t be “exciting” enough for Andre in the long term, given that he’s always been quite popular and outgoing and she’s only really gotten any esteem at Hogwarts for being a Cursebreaker, which she didn’t really ever want to be. Add onto this some tension brought on by the All-Wizard Tournament where Andre got so obsessed with winning that he took help from his girlfriend and then flat-out didn’t even consider helping her in return and Carewyn’s severe trust issues, and soon the two had a lot of trouble communicating properly. When times were good, they had a lot of fun together, but if they ever weren’t, the two just couldn’t seem to connect and fix it as a team. Not long after the All-Wizard Tournament, Carewyn finally told Andre she needed a break, and after a talk, they decided it was better to end their romantic relationship and try just being friends again. Despite the break-up, they both remain incredibly fond of each other and respect each other deeply.

Chiara — In the beginning of my game-playing journey, I had considered matching Carewyn with Chiara in the long-term. Ever since they first met, Carewyn has both identified with and greatly admired Chiara. Even if Chiara has had such a rough life, she remains ever gentle, kind, and forgiving -- everything, in essence, that Carewyn wants and tries to be -- all without seemingly even trying. She’s never expected anything from Carewyn, no matter how big her reputation as a Cursebreaker has grown, and is always supportive of her choices. She even wants to Heal others, even if her werewolf form is so hell-bent on destruction and harm. Chiara, meanwhile, identifies with and admires Carewyn just as much for her nurturing, sensitive heart, and thinks she’s one of the bravest people she knows. She understands Carewyn’s self-loathing from a first-hand perspective since she struggles with it herself, but she can’t understand it in the sense that she sees Carewyn as a truly wonderful, strong person who should be able to love herself just as much as she loves others. Carewyn frequently spends time with Chiara in her Animagus form during the full moon to keep her company, singing sweet songs to brighten her darker nights. A Chiara/Carewyn ending would’ve been what I considered the “Peaceful” ending, AKA the “Soft uwu” ending -- but it also sort of struck me that the two’s personalities and demons were similar enough that there wouldn’t be as much chance for growth for both of them, and there wouldn’t be as much action or engaging contrast in their interactions, as they would both be pretty universally supportive of each other except when they’re blocking the other out “for their own good.” Even if Carewyn doesn’t end up with Chiara romantically, though, she cherishes her as a friend and would do anything to make her happy.

Diego —  This option sort of came out of nowhere, but quickly developed from a crackship into a genuine ship for me, given that like Chiara, Diego would be able to bring some sunlight into Carewyn’s life and be a dependable partner who wouldn’t put high expectations on Carewyn’s shoulders. As for Carewyn, she finds Diego’s flirting absolutely hysterical. Part of this is because Carewyn herself is asexual, but she also just isn’t the sort to actively “flirt” with people. Funnily enough, however, Diego’s charm does end up endearing him to Carewyn anyway, though not for the reason it might charm others! Although she does find his behavior funny, she can still tell he’s sincerely trying to compliment the people he’s talking to, and he’s also amazingly modest despite his clear talent at wizard dueling. Add onto this that he likes dancing, and music-loving!Carewyn has found he’s an all-around pretty fun guy to spend time with. Diego also isn’t turned off in the slightest by Carewyn finding amusement in his flirting, either -- if anything, he finds it rather endearing, as Carewyn is usually so serious and he thinks she should laugh more often. A Diego/Carewyn ending would’ve been what I considered the “Fun” ending, AKA the “Romcom” ending -- but it also felt as though it was an ending that could only come to be and work well in peaceful times, with Diego not being as well-equipped in dealing with Carewyn’s darker spells or in dealing with more serious issues or deep heart-to-heart conversations.

Orion — This, after a lot of deliberation, is the final end-game ship I’ve decided for Carewyn post-Second-Wizarding-War. Orion really wasn’t what Carewyn expected out of a Quidditch captain when they first met in her third year and his fourth, but being related to two Ravenclaws, she actually finds his vague, philosophical bent kind of refreshing. It can still frustrate her sometimes due to her desire to plan ahead, but she sees how his off-kilter affect keeps others on their toes and, therefore, can shift control over a situation his way. (Rather appropriate display of cleverness, for a Slytherin.) Learning his backstory prompts a lot of empathy from Carewyn as well, given that she also didn’t have any real friends before attending Hogwarts, and she greatly admires how wise Orion has become both about himself and about life, even after going through what he’s gone through. After being on his team for that short time, Carewyn’s developed a lot of respect for Orion, and even after leaving, she’s remained very supportive of her house team and especially of Orion as their leader. Even if Carewyn’s not on the team, she keeps up with Quidditch not just out of love for the sport, but because of her desire to see Orion’s team do well. As for Orion, he got the sense they were kindred spirits ever since they first played side-by-side in the match against Hufflepuff and quietly laments that she’s never been a permanent member of his team. He frequently cites that Carewyn has “more fire than a Firecrab” -- although he can find it a bit overpowering at times, her passion was the thing that first sparked his interest in her, and over the years, Orion has come to see her as an equal, admiring her not just for that passion, but for her determination, courage, and selflessness. Orion and Carewyn are also both incredibly insightful, thoughtful, sensitive people who have the tendency to “create a family” out of their friends that they support and nurture in an almost parental manner. After Carewyn left the Slytherin team after the match against Hufflepuff, Orion attempted to persuade Carewyn to rejoin several times over the years due to his lingering fondness for her, even though he’s always respected her decision not to. It’s only after Carewyn returns to the team to help Slytherin win the Quidditch Cup for the first time in ten years and gets injured in the process that Orion learns that he and Carewyn have the same Patronus -- an Abraxan Winged Horse -- which, according to the old wives’ tale, suggests that they are soul mates. By then, however, Orion is set to graduate within weeks and he knows that Carewyn’s life is of course consumed with dealing with the Vaults. And so he decides not to pursue the chance of a relationship solely based on a superstition, however much he regrets his lack of action later. As adults, the two reconnect after the end of the Second Wizarding War and an unconventional romance starts between the two. This endgame ship gives Carewyn both things I wanted for her while shipping Chiara/Carewyn and Diego/Carewyn -- peace and fun -- while also matching her with someone who can bring some balance and positivity to her life and help her let go of her inner demons and yet who she can also defend, protect, and love with all of her fire. And because of their differences -- Orion being so chill, passive, and philosophical and Carewyn being so sensible, perfectionistic, and passionate -- they’ll constantly contrast and challenge each other too.

FRIENDS |

Bill —  The Weasley family overall filled the void in Carewyn’s heart that Jacob left behind, none more so than Bill. Carewyn adores Bill like few others and supports him in his Cursebreaking 110%, to the extent that she probably would help him do it even if it didn’t involve the Cursed Vaults. Bill quasi-“adopts” Carewyn into his family pretty early on, but only grows closer to and fonder of her over time, as she’s the first person who he’s ever been able to lean on the way he always let his siblings lean on him. Bill’s accompanied Carewyn to every single Cursed Vault, and he is her right-hand man when it comes to who she’d pick to help her with something dangerous. By the time Bill’s graduated, the two stand on relatively equal footing despite their age gap, and after the death of Redacted, Bill and Carewyn solidly become each other’s best friend and confidante, leaning on and supporting each other more than anyone else. The rest of Carewyn’s friend group likes to jokingly refer to her and Bill as the “Mum” and “Dad” of the group, given their shared tendency to “parent” the others. Bill was the one who coined the nickname “Carey” for Carewyn, and the rest of her friend group has totally run with it since, none more so than Charlie and Tonks.

Charlie — If Bill is Carewyn’s surrogate big brother, Charlie is Carewyn’s twin brother from another mother. Carewyn loves talking about dragons with Charlie. (They’re just so cool!) Charlie and Carewyn also like playing in Quidditch friendlies together, even if they’re in different houses, and they can often be seen handling Prefect duties together. Ever since Charlie, Bill, and Carewyn went into the Portrait Vault with Ben and Merula, the two Weasley boys and Carewyn have been closer than ever. Charlie and Carewyn in particular have latched onto each other in Bill’s absence, given how close both of them were to him. As adults post-Hogwarts, Charlie frequently crashes on Carewyn’s couch whenever he flies in for a visit from Romania, if his mother doesn’t insist upon him staying at the Burrow. Charlie and Carewyn refer to themselves as a pair as “Fireballs,” because Chinese Fireballs are the only dragons known to live among their own kind -- and so the word represents how Charlie and Carewyn see each other as kindred spirits.

Rowan — Rowan was Carewyn’s first friend at Hogwarts, but recently they’ve sort of been growing apart, due to Rowan’s extreme focus on academics and Carewyn’s extreme focus on finding her brother. For Carewyn, it feels like she’s changed a lot in five years -- starting as the shunned younger sister of the delinquent Jacob Cromwell and growing into a renowned Cursebreaker who has learned so much and made so many different friends and now tries to protect Hogwarts and her fellow students however she can -- while Rowan has rigidly stayed put where she was, remaining as studious and socially awkward as ever. Carewyn doesn’t resent Rowan for this -- on the contrary, she’s always admired Rowan’s single-minded ambition to be the youngest professor in Hogwarts history, damn what anyone else says, and wishes she had the luxury of chasing her own dreams that doggedly. But at the same time, Carewyn wouldn’t have felt good about herself, if she’d stayed the way she’d been when she first arrived. She sees herself as having been weaker, less competent, and less capable back then, while Rowan was always so brilliant and both emotionally and intellectually ahead of everyone else. Rowan and Carewyn have grown into very different people over the last five years, but Carewyn still loves and treasures Rowan like few people in the world as her first real friend and the friend that in some ways she wishes she could be more like.

Talbott  — The two at first didn’t see eye-to-eye at all, given that Talbott tends to hide most of his positive emotions at first and Carewyn hides her negative emotions constantly --- but once the ice broke between them, the two really connected and became good friends. Carewyn loves Talbott’s sense of humor and was also pleasantly surprised to find out what a great writer he is! She often volunteers to read whatever he’s working on, which kind of weirds Talbott out, but he secretly is happy she likes his stuff. When Carewyn wants some peace, she’ll take some time to fly around in her robin Animagus form, and she always loves it when Talbott joins her for a flight around the grounds. Carewyn often sings little tweeted songs the entire way, and even if Talbott teases her for it, he does actually really enjoy it. Post-Hogwarts they work together a lot, as Talbott is an Auror and Carewyn is a lawyer.

Ben — Ben was one of the very first people who Carewyn took under her wing, and even now, she remains a bit protective of him. She was always really proud whenever he expressed more courage and initiative in the past, but with the advent of sixth year, Ben has grown a lot more reckless and blunt, to the extent he could easily get himself into a dangerous situation and get hurt. Carewyn isn’t sure at all how to react to the development, but she doesn’t like it -- not one bit. Ben himself is struggling with how much Carewyn wants to look at him as someone to protect while never letting anyone else do the same for her. Because he’s known her longer than most, he’s seen Carewyn’s own dramatic transformation from a quiet, but overemotional little girl into a micromanaging, fussing, stoic, confident Mama Bear, and as much as he’s glad Carewyn’s gotten more confidence, he laments being on equal footing with his friend and feeling like he could help her as much as she helps him. Once they get their emotions and issues sorted, Ben and Carewyn become closer than ever, to the point that he, Merula, Charlie, and Bill are co-leader of the Circle of Khanna with Carewyn.

Barnaby — At first Carewyn couldn’t help but look down on Barnaby a bit given how dim he could be, but once he agreed to help her, she was surprised by how sincere and sweet he really was. Soon enough she felt her protective instincts kick in, and now she’s incredibly encouraging and supportive of him. These days you can usually see them chatting excitedly about magical creatures together in class -- Carewyn’s really happy to see Barnaby succeeding in Care of Magical Creatures as well as enjoying it, and Barnaby loves it whenever Carewyn sings to the creatures they’re working with in order to soothe them.

Jae — Although their personalities are pretty diametrically opposed, even down to house placement, Carewyn gets along pretty well with Jae. She doesn’t entirely see the appeal of him dealing with shadier merchandise, but he still agreed to help her when she needed to go to Knockturn Alley despite the risks and he’s a pretty sharp, resourceful person. Carewyn mostly just thinks he should push himself more, rather than just be content with where he’s at. After learning how much Jae likes cooking, Carewyn has enjoyed spending time with him in the kitchens whenever she wants to try out a new recipe.

Penny — Carewyn was actually a bit startled when popular Penny first took an interest in her in their first year. In their fifth year, Carewyn grew a bit more protective of Penny with the Portrait Curse capturing her younger sister, Beatrice -- now that Beatrice and Penny have started to grow apart, however, Carewyn now finds herself stuck between them, feeling sympathy for Beatrice’s position but still valuing her friendship with Penny.

Liz — Carewyn and Liz’s friendship is a bit more casual than others, but they’ve really connected well thanks to their shared interest in magical creatures. You can usually see Carewyn hanging out with her, Charlie, and Barnaby in Care of Magical Creatures.

Badeea — Art buddies! Carewyn is very encouraging of Badeea’s artistic talent, and the two love talking about music and Charms together.  

Tonks  — Carewyn greatly admires Tonks’s wish to be an Auror and loves how funny her imitations can be, but more often than not ends up being the butt of one of Tonks’s pranks.

Tulip — Like Tonks, Tulip loves pranking Carewyn. A LOT. Carewyn doesn’t find most of her jokes that funny, but can’t stay that mad at her.

Fred and George — Carewyn has only just met the twins, but she can already tell they’re going to be a handful. But they’re Bill and Charlie’s brothers, so in Carewyn’s mind, they are already family, so she feels a bit of protectiveness toward them.

Cedric �� When Carewyn met Cedric, her first reaction was immense pity, given how much attention he’d managed to accrue in his first year alone when he clearly didn’t feel like he deserved it. Cedric reminds Carewyn of herself in first and second year, when she was still so shy and insecure whenever people would talk about her, so the Slytherin Prefect feels a lot of compassion for Cedric. She sort of hopes everyone will lay off him a bit so he can just have a normal school life without so much pressure.

Percy — Carewyn hadn’t thought she’d ever encounter someone that she would consider a stick-in-the-mud...until she met Percy Weasley. His rat Scabbers is kind of cute, though -- when he doesn’t bite!

Skye — Carewyn appreciates all of the help Skye gave her when she first started playing in Quidditch friendlies, but at present, she’s not talking to Skye, thanks to her going off and starting unfounded rumors about the Ravenclaw Beater, Erika Rath, the way that people spread rumors about Carewyn when she first started at Hogwarts. NOT COOL, SKYE. Orion deserves better than to deal with that sort of drama!!

Murphy — Both he and Carewyn are planners, and that’s great...but Murphy only plays Wizard Chess, a game he’s great at and Carewyn is terrible at, and that’s not so great.

Professor McGonagall —  The Deputy Headmistress is by far the professor Carewyn respects above all others. Even if she finds her class very challenging, she gives every assignment her all because of how much she respects McGonagall and wants to impress her. McGonagall herself nurtures a soft spot for Carewyn, even despite her being in Slytherin, due to her strong moral streak and desire to protect others.

Professor Flitwick — Charms is Carewyn’s best and favorite class, and Flitwick is a large reason why. Carewyn also really admires Flitwick’s talent in wizard dueling and is always thrilled to learn new dueling spells from him. Flitwick had a soft spot for Carewyn’s brother Jacob back in the day, since Jacob was in his house, and he’s nurtured a similar soft spot for Carewyn because of her great talent in and enthusiasm for Charms.

Professor Kettleburn — Carewyn adores Care of Magical Creatures and, by extension, Professor Kettleburn. She just really doesn’t want to lose as many body parts or clothing pieces as he has. Kettleburn always enjoys when Carewyn sings to the creatures in his class -- he finds it incredibly creative and entertaining.

Hagrid —  Carewyn loves Fang SO MUCH. And Hagrid too. Just not his rock cakes. And Hagrid...well, Carewyn’s just so tiny, but with such a big heart!

FOES |

Rakepick — Pre-Portrait Vault, Carewyn didn’t trust Rakepick as far as she can throw her, largely because she couldn’t get a good fix on her. Even Snape, who Carewyn clashes with at times, seems to have a wonky code of honor (META: largely because she is a Slytherin and -- more notably -- is at school before she could see how terribly he treats Harry and Neville!), but Carewyn wasn’t even sure if she could ascribe that to Rakepick. Her initial judgment seems to have been justified, given how Rakepick acted in the Portrait Vault -- but Rakepick’s betrayal, which was somehow even worse than Carewyn could’ve imagined, has only served to make the young Slytherin feel less sure on her feet, as she’s started to connect the dots and realize that her comrades may have trusted Rakepick for the some of the same reasons that they’ve trusted Carewyn herself. Rakepick and Carewyn have encouraged the others, but have also never trusted them with their true feelings or motives, and they both led them into danger all because of their desire to get to the Cursed Vaults. Although they pursued the Vaults for different reasons, they were both relentless, resourceful, stubborn and proud in their pursuit -- and in enlisting others to help them in that pursuit, they were both responsible for every terrible thing that ensued from it.

Ismelda — Carewyn really doesn’t like her intense interest in pain and suffering -- like...at all. Even if she might put on a strong, unflappable face, Carewyn is way too big of a bleeding heart to enjoy death or pain. Ismelda also considering using a Love Potion on Barnaby soured Carewyn to her quite a bit, though Carewyn is glad Ismelda changed her mind and they were able to come to some sort of a truce.

Merula — Their rivalry was much more intense when they were younger and Merula was actively bullying Ben and Rowan -- nowadays Carewyn just uses her help when it’s useful and ignores her when she’s being her usual awful self. After seeking counsel from her mother and Rowan, Carewyn was even nice enough to give Merula her spot on the Frog Choir, even if she’d really wanted it herself. Although Rowan staying constant and unchanging throughout the years is something Carewyn admires in her, however, she absolutely loathes the quality when it’s expressed in Merula. At the end of year 5, she and Merula came to something of a truce, but with the start of their sixth year, Merula’s taken a couple giant steps back in her evolution, which greatly frustrates and disappoints Carewyn. Carewyn wouldn’t ever call Merula her friend, but...well, she’d still been happy to see Merula had actually been able to prove her a little wrong and become a slightly better person. It’s awful to see her regress after going through that slight improvement.

Professor Dumbledore — Although Dumbledore is an amazingly powerful wizard with a very amiable attitude, over the years Carewyn has gotten very, very frustrated with how much she’s told to stop trying to deal with the Vaults. On top of that, the Headmaster of Hogwarts frequently obfuscates things a bit too much for Carewyn’s liking. She can sense that he is trying to be helpful, but that in a way makes things all the more frustrating, as she finds his methods so phenomenally misguided. Carewyn tries to conceal just how low her opinion of the man has fallen, but in truth she’s become rather resentful of him.

Emily —  Oh gosh. Given how fond Carewyn is of Bill and how ridiculously condescending and prone to bullying Emily can be, Carewyn understandably despises her. She hates her more than she ever hated Merula.

PETS (IF ANY) | Mimi (orange tabby cat), Sir Robin the Brave (toad), Lune (bat), Balto (Cruppy)

ANIMAL PRESERVE (IF ANY) | Wicket the Niffler; Tumnus the Porlock; Arjuna the Abraxan; Belle the Fairy; Esmeralda the Welsh Green; Leila the Thestral, Peter Quill the Knarl; Apollo the Hippogriff; Barnaby Jr. the Bowtruckle

[kob131]

Rap As A Man’s Soul: A Story In Three Parts

*cracks neck* Okay, let’s see how well I can do at dissecting music.

It’s not something I usually do, but it is an aspect of media so I need to talk about it more. And since Gurren Lagann is my actual specialty (as in, I actually know more about it then RWBY), I figured I should start here.

Precisely, how Rap Is A Man’s Soul, Rap Was A Man’s Soul Right? and Libera Me From Hell actually showcases and encapsulates Gurren Lagann in three segments.

Gurren Lagann can be basically split into three different parts, each with their own challenge to the hero, Simon.

Part 1 is the Pre-Timeskip episodes with the challenge of Simon being forced into his role as the hero, overcoming the typical challenges of a normal hero like the death of the mentor, the call to action, rising from despair and triumphing over the final bad guy.

You can easily feel this in the music. The song begins with a swelling orchestral sound, a sound that feels restrained and simmering as though waiting to burst. This part symbolizes the first episode of the show, where the episode is confined in Simon and Kamina’s village, with tensions rising as the world is set up and the stakes are being established. This is also reflected in the fact that swelling first part of the song has no lyrics, as the show hasn’t begun to truly express itself at that point.

The first chorus as well as the beginning of mix of grand triumphant music alongside cocky record scratches can be seen as representative of Episodes 2 and 3, where the other iconic mech of the show, Gurren, is obtained through the reckless and unconventional actions of Kamina as well as the hidden ability of Gurren to merge and combine with other Gunmen to empower them being revealed as Gurren Lagann. The chorus is more climatic and grandiose than the bridges, with these events being much bigger in comparison to many other episodes. Supporting this is the lyrics:

Do the impossible! See the invisible! Raw! Raw! Fight the power! Touch the untouchable! Break the unbreakable! Row! Row! Fight the power! What you gonna do is what you wanna do, Just break the roof, and you see the truth, uh-huh, This is theme of the "G" coming through baby! Row! Row! Fight the power!

Doing the impossible and fighting the seemingly much more powerful Beastmen is established in these episodes, those being the basis of the rest of the first half of the show. It also refers the previous episode as well through the talk of ‘breaking the roof and seeing the truth’ as the roof of Shion village was the one big barrier that allowed the status quo of Simon and Kamina’s home. All in all.

The first bridge is more grounded and calm, though still high energy showing the hopeful and optimistic tone of the show at this point. The music has a settled down version of the instrumentals, giving us some breathing room to expand on the song just as the episodes before Kamina’s demise expands on the show while also giving the audience some time to relax before the next major event.

The lyrics as follows:

Power to the peeps, power for the dream, (Simon and Kamina giving power to the fellow humans and their dream of freedom) Still missing piece scatterings, so incomplete. (referencing the incomplete cast) We be the most incredible soldiers from underground, See how easy they all fall down. (Team Dai-Gurren being the best of the human resistence) Digging through the core to see the light, Let's get out of here, babe, that's the way to survive! (Breaking out of the underground using the buried Lagann to truly live) Yeah, top of the head, I'm on the set, Do the impossible, don't you wanna bet? (Kamina’s constant daring to the world and his followers to watch as they do what is considered impossible) 'cuz a lot of things changed, we be waiting in vain, If you wanna get by, no pain, no gain. (Foreshadowing Kamina’s demise as his death allowed the capture of the Dai-Guton) Wow! Fakers wanna test me again? Sorry, my rhyme's gonna stunt your brain, yo! (The Beastmen hunting down the team but ultimately failing) I'm still struggling for some straight-up skill, We're gonna make it a-happen with our crazy rap skill! (The inexperience in comparison to their enemies being made up with the natural human ability to fight and evolve) Get ready to rumble, now be the time, uh-huh, If you ain't know, now you know. (The climatic moment that decides their war and fate.

further support this through the events they reference.

Then we have a brief moment before the next chorus ((Good luck, fellas!)), referencing Kamina’s demise and how his last moments where him trying to impart one last piece of advice while ensuring his comrades’ safety.

The next bridge, I believe, represents the episodes focusing on the fallout of Kamina’s demise. While the show slows down during these episodes, it's ultimately one final build up until Simon takes the helm as the focus and face of the show, upholding Kamina’s ideals as truth as he does what was thought impossible of him and recovering from his sorrow and becoming the leader of Team Dai-Gurren. Not to mention how Simon comes into his own is a repeat of the events of Episode 1 (a bunch of humans being trapped underground, death imminent and all hope lost before Simon starts digging and encounters Lagann again before bursting out of the underground, high into the air, to defeat a much larger and more menacing foe.)

We then have the next bridge-

Second verse is dedicated to the real peeps, (the real hero now taking the stage What we got to say is so real thing, 'cuz, (the show showcasing real stakes with Kamina’s death) Revolution ain't never gonna televise, Kicking the mad flow, microphone phenotype! (Team Dai-Gurren thinking their efforts will go unthanked but still fighting) Open your third eye, seeing through the overground! I'm about to hit you with the scream from the underground! (the underground humans rising up from their prisons for their revolution) Whole city is covered with the cyber flavor, (the capital city of Tepplin being a giant Gunman) "G" is in your area, one of the toughest enigma! (The enigma of Simon’s strength and how far he’s gotten despite the odds)

Sums up the feel of the show before the final battle against Lordgenome, which is represented by two repeats of the Chorus, fitting as the final enemy of the first part of the show is a man with the same power and mech type as Simon, using many similar powers and abilities. But with the last Chorus, Simon pushes through Lordgenome’s Lazengann and finally gets the killing blow.

And just as sit seemed in the show, the song seems to end with a grand triumph...

Only for Part 2.

Here, the song lyrically is the same as Rap Is A Man’s Soul, just as the world is still thee one we were in before. But the tone is completely different. The trumpets and record sounds are swap with an echoing, melancholy piano and the confident, boastful, cocky rapper is replaced by an odd, awkward and uncomfortable auto tune. Before the song represented the heroic journey of Simon as he upheld Kamina’s ideals and beliefs. Now, we feel his sorrow, pain, misery and sheer hopelessness as his efforts are torn down, the people he saved turn on him, his friend Rossiu has seemingly betrayed him, he’s imprisoned against better judgement, his lover has been turned against him and the very thing that defined him before is thrown into question. This extends to Rossiu as well, as his paranoia and desperation to save humanity as well as his lost faith in his friend and leader’s ideals tears him apart as he feels forced to do what he hates in order for a greater good. And their enemy? Random mooks being sent after them, constructs that are completely unknowable to them with a master they don't even know. 

Team Dai-Gurren is split, humanity is desperate and scared, the best chances at survival will leave so many to die and Simon has just...given up, accepted his fate and waits to die due to his insecurities rising again. The question is brought up:

Rap Was A Man’s Soul...Right?

Right up to Part 3. Part 3 is perhaps the most famous piece of music from the show, and for good reason. The song is a final remix of Rap Is A Man’s Soul but now, the song takes the form of two songs in one. The first song actually isn’t the lyrics from Rap is A Man’s Soul but actually a song in Latin based on the roman catholic chant sung for the absolution of the dead called ‘Libera Me’. The song is important in many ways even without the lyrics. The instrumentals for the first part are mournful, reverent and solemn, reflecting the feeling of death and the hopes for peace. Which fits the final part of the show as many members sof Team Dai-Gurren sacrifice their lives, the prime example being Kittan whose sacrifice was the first appearance of this song.

The lyrics by themselves are just as I said before: a prayer for the dead to be absolved. But the instrumentals being so loud and oppressive transform it into a prayer from the Anti-Spiral for Team Dai-Gurren to give up and be absolved of their sins after their deaths. The connection between the latin chanting and the Anti-Spiral is further reinforced not just by it becomes more and more intense as the song goes on, just as the Anti=Spiral becomes more and more involved and emotional as the battle rages on, but also in that Latin is one of the bases for the English language, marking the Anti-Spiral as an ancient form of Team Dai-Gurren.

But the true beauty of the song shines when the lyrics from Rap Is A Man’s Soul start to play. Like before, it has a build up to the song except instead of a swelling, complex orchestra it’s instead a single, simple but clear piano playing, the only addition being a drum alongside the piano as the first verse concludes. the simple but clear piano gives a feeling of single minded, pure hearted determination, conjuring an image of a man standing even after a horrible beatdown which is fitting given it plays after each Latin Chat section, which only grow louder and more oppressive, just as the Anti-Spiral intensifies it’s efforts only for Team Dai-Gurren to overcome them.

Then we have the third verse from the Latin Chant, with the rap’s chorus playing underneath the song, symbolizing the face to face final confirmation as the Anti-Spiral overwhelms Team Dai-Gurren. The chant overwhelms the chorus more and more until the Rap takes center stage with one big ‘FIGHT THE POWER!’, the Anti-Spiral being the greatest power they can face.

There, the Rao starts playing over the chant, not only showing the protagonists gaining the upperhand against the Anti-Spiral but also fitting into the show’s themes of evolution and progress, the Anti-Spiral being a powerful but stagnant force that is overwhelmed by the growing strength of Simon and his crew. It even showcases how Simon and his team only grew through the Anti-Spiral as the rap plays off the latin.

Then, the rap builds in the background as the Latiin keeps going, same as always, until the rap bursts through, silencing the latin chant. Just like how Simon made his way to the Anti-Spiral only to personally pierce through him. The song ends with one last line from the rap, the Ant-Spiral’s plea to Simon to take up it’s torch, with the rap responding in kind, without instrumentals to showcase how definitive the end is.

All in all, you could get the general journey of the show without even watching it, because these three songs work so well conveying the themes, emotions and impact,

And that’s truly amazing.

[artemis-entreri]

[[ This post contains Part 1 of my review/analysis of the Forgotten Realms/Drizzt novel, Boundless, by R. A. Salvatore. As such, the entirety of this post’s content is OOC. ]]

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Generations: Book 2 | Legend of Drizzt #35 (#32 if not counting The Sellswords)

Publisher: Harper Collins (September 10, 2019)

My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

Additional Information: Artwork for the cover of Boundless and used above is originally done by Aleks Melnik. This post CONTAINS SPOILERS. Furthermore, this discussion concerns topics that I am very passionate about, and as such, at times I do use strong language. Read and expand the cut at your own discretion.

Contents:

Introduction

I. Positives (you are here)     I.1 Pure Positives     I.2 Muddled Positives

II. Mediocre Writing Style     II.1 Bad Descriptions     II.2 Salvatorisms     II.3 Laborious "Action"

III. Poor Characterization     III.1 "Maestro"     III.2 Lieutenant     III.3 Barbarian     III.4 "Hero"     III.5 Mother

IV. World Breaks     IV.1 Blinders Against the Greater World     IV.2 Befuddlement of Earth and Toril     IV.3 Self-Inconsistency     IV.4 Dungeon Amateur     IV.5 Utter Nonsense

V. Ego Stroking     V.1 The Ineffable Companions of the Hall     V.2 Me, Myself, and I

VI. Problematic Themes     VI.1 No Homo     VI.2 Disrespect of Women     VI.3 Social-normalization     VI.4 Eugenics

VII. What's Next     VII.1 Drizzt Ascends to Godhood     VII.2 Profane Redemption     VII.3 Passing the Torch     VII.4 Don't Notice Me Senpai

Positives

I've found that the untrammeled positive elements of Boundless exclusively have to do with solid turns of phrase peppered throughout the book. There are also semi-positives in terms of characterizations and literary devices that Salvatore uses, but these are at best mixed. 

Pure Positives

Salvatore pulls off some surprisingly good descriptions in Boundless through the usage of a more varied vocabulary than his standard repertoire, evocative imagery, compelling metaphors, and other effective strategies. An example of a good passage is, "The demon responded with a word of its own, a croaking, grating combination of hard syllables that sounded to Regis like a porcupine being rubbed across the flesh of a giant frog." in normal Salvatore tradition, the description would've been left without the metaphor. Heck, I'm not even sure that "croaking" and "grating" would've been employed in regular Salvatore fashion. In addition to speaking to the imagination, the metaphor evokes the fantastical nature of the world, a world where giant frogs exist, ones that wouldn't simply rupture when a porcupine is rubbed against them. Furthermore, the metaphor harmonizes with the adjective earlier in the sentence, for even though the frog is not the thing doing the croaking, "croaking" matches frog, just as grating matches porcupine quills.

Another example of solid writing in Boundless can be found here, "Every syllable hit Rethnorel the way the flowing breath of a speaker might make the flame of a candle blow back." Like the previous example, this one combines the usage of a noun associated with an uncommon adjective and demonstrative imagery to good effect. The metaphor shows us that the character is buffeted in an almost soft manner, for such is the flicker of a candle, but it is a continuous assault. A line that is almost too good to imagine coming from Salvatore is, "...scurrying along like a pair of giant rats fleeing the purring pursuit of a hungry displacer beast." This description is short, concise, and yet contains so many effective elements: "scurrying" instead of "running", the alliteration in "purring pursuit", and of course, alluding to a unique creature specific to the world. Putting all of these elements together paints an expressive image of an earnest and high-speed chase, the predator full of pleased anticipation but the necessity of its hunt not allowing its contentment to tamper its progress.

A passage that I wish every Salvatore paragraph could emulate is this one, "Even the way she talked grated on him, every bitten-off word making him feel like someone was running the bark of an old and gnarly oak tree down the back of his neck. It seemed like this drow woman could barely get the words out of her mouth, so tight was her jaw, and when they did come out, they carried the hissing timbre of an open fire in a downpour." The standard Salvatore version of this would be something along the lines of, "Even the way she talked grated on him. Every word was bitten off tightly", which, granted is more concise than what was published, but falls far from embodying the soul of wit in its brevity. The imagery in the published metaphor more than lets us hear the way the female character talks, it lets us feel it. So, too, can we feel what it'd be like to try to talk while our jaws are locked. "Hissing timbre" is a beautiful description on its own, but combined with inciting a sound that everyone can at least imagine, even if they may not have heard firsthand, results in a punchy and effective description. An example of another effective description, and one that doesn't make use of a metaphor is, "Some time later, they lay beside each other, the soft glow of candlelight catching pinpricks of sparkle in the beads of sweat they both wore." Sweat is not normally an attractive feature, even when it's associated with a sexy scene. The way that this imagery is presented however invokes a sense of soft decadence, as though the characters were covered with a delicate and exotic garment strewn with countless pearls. The many sparkles from this "garment" help to further set the romantic mood far more than the soft candlelight would have done by itself. Although the description, "bag of demonic despair", doesn't look like much when presented by itself, and isn't as strong as the preceding examples, it's worth a mention because of how it adequately serves as a concise summary. The object that it refers to is Entreri enveloped in an unbreakable cocoon that an unknown demon trapped him in. The word "cocoon" shows up many times in relation to this object, and admittedly, is an concise, if a bit bland, way to describe the object from both within and without. Inside the encasement, Entreri is held in a state of perpetual torment, whilst outside Dahlia, and to a much lesser extent, Regis, are worrying about his condition. Perhaps "demonic" could be replaced with another adjective but overall I'm fine with the way it is, for anything referring more to Entreri's suffering might run the risk of sounding melodramatic.

"Running stride" is also worth noting because in a world that doesn't use the same units of measurements that we do, it's always jarring when inches, feet, and miles are cited, especially when readers of the text hail from countries that aren’t the US. Without the known common terms, it is understandably difficult to effectively convey distances in a concise and comprehensible way, so units of measurements like this example are wonderful because they use something that we all understand, and do so without breaking immersion.

Tasteful omission is as important as smart inclusion. I'd criticized Salvatore for trying too hard in Timeless by using "fashioned" in in awkward way, and he's dropped this altogether in Boundless. By the same token, "six hundred pounds of panther" doesn't appear at all. Salvatore's favorite adjectives, "magnificent" and "fine", are both used better in Boundless. The former appears thirteen times in Boundless but unlike in Timeless, the usage of most of them aren't vague and lazy ways of characterizing splendid objects, characters, or actions. Six of those thirteen usages can maybe be improved still, but that is already a huge positive change from the fourteen out of seventeen occurrences in Timeless. Meanwhile, "fine" appears fifty times, but many of that is part of modifiers like finer, finest, etc, and through a cursory scan, by itself, relatively few are used in inane ways. 

Muddled Positives

Aside from the examples in diction above, Boundless does contain praiseable elements, specifically even in areas where I usually criticize Salvatore. There are moments of decent, even good, characterization, and some of the negative potential I'd feared Timeless was leading towards are not realized in Boundless. Furthermore, there are improvements to be found in the themes that Salvatore employs, and some descriptors stand up to fact-checking.

One of my biggest criticisms of Salvatore is that he routinely disrespects what I describe as the beautiful tapestry of the Realms, which was woven together by the hands of many creatives who worked in harmony. In Boundless, the amount that Salvatore insensitively scribbles his name in Sharpie over the tapestry is reduced. Ironically, sometimes Salvatore scribbles over the portions of the tapestry that he'd worked with others to create, but in Boundless, he doesn't perpetuate this disservice to both himself and others as much as he has in the past. For better or worse, Salvatore did create a lot of information about drow, though his work is mostly limited to the city of Menzoberranzan. While the Drizzt books contain the most drow content than any other FR novel series, they've done so through their sheer volume, and they mainly portrayed the drow in a one-dimensional fashion. Just as there are many more drow settlements than the fanatic Menzoberranzan, so too, are even Menzoberranzanyr drow capable of qualities other than scheming self-service in the name of dedication to Lolth. In Boundless, we see more dimensions to the drow characters presented. Zaknafein is not the only drow in Menzoberranzan who possesses a moral compass. Loyalties born of motivations other than pride exist beyond the Do'Urden bloodline, with familial concern and the kind of love that'd been described as being unknown to drow inspiring or dissuading murderous deeds. In previous books, the closest that we got to "non-evil" drow were drow who had the potential to be good, perhaps even living for awhile in a goodly way, but eventually and inevitably squandering that potential. For example, Drizzt's sister Vierna was not as cruel as the other Do'Urden females, but ultimately, through trying to seduce her own brother and then turning a different brother into a drider, turned out to be just as bad as the rest of the Lolthites. Another similar example could be found with Tos'un Armgo, whom although having created a family with a surface elf, ultimately participated in the murder of his own family and returning himself and his daughter to the depraved society of Menzoberranzan. 

In Boundless, although the priestess Dab'nay Tr'arach follows a course similar to Tos'un, her path is much more nuanced, and although she squanders her morality for station, she does so with great ambivalence and regret. Dab'nay's house is long destroyed, with she and her siblings' surnames changed to reflect this. She stands to gain nothing by preserving members of her bloodline, but nonetheless, she endangers her own life to see that her brother isn't killed, a selfish thought of rebuilding her long-lost house not at all factoring in to her concern for her kin. It is also clear from actions such as Dab'nay running her finger playfully along the top of Zaknafein's nose while telling him that he, not his services, were worth waiting for, that the feelings that she develops for him are more than those a female in a matriarchal society entertains towards a favored pet or sex object. Dab'nay allows her vulnerability to show in Zaknafein's presence and does not conceal the tears she sheds for the way that they must live their lives. She also fears for Zaknafein's safety even though she'd arguably stand to gain from his demise, and feels guilt for implicating him negatively for the sake of her own survival. Before the Generations trilogy, these qualities were not possible in any genuine or long-lasting way in any priestesses of Lolth, not even a disgraced one. Prior, a disgraced priestess who isn't killed or turned into a drider would become even more dangerous, with having nothing to lose by concentrating the proverbial venom in her veins.

Dab'nay isn't the only Menzoberranzanyr drow who demonstrates the capacity for multiple dimensions in Boundless. So, too, does Harbondair Tr'arch and Arathis Hune. Harbondair possesses the same familial loyalty as Dab'nay, and, like his sister, possesses the ability to genuinely overcome past prejudices. Despite Zaknafein having destroyed his house and despite Zaknafein issuing him a death threat should he attempt to harm him again, Harbondair grows to develop a real friendship with Zaknafein. Arathis, while definitively more "evil" than the Tr'arch siblings, is motivated by more than his rank in Bregan D'aerthe to eventually go to a head against Zaknafein. It's never stated that Arathis' rivalry with Zaknafein isn't based solely in Arathis feeling threatened in his second-in-command position. However, from the way that Arathis is described to behave while Zaknafein is absent, Arathis appears to be motivated by jealousy that he's no longer Jarlaxle's favorite and most trusted follower. Jarlaxle makes it abundantly clear on numerous occasions that he considers Zaknafein and Arathis equally valuable, hence why he prohibited either from trying to kill the other, so were Arathis worried about his position in the mercenary band, he needn't have gone so far because he and Zaknafein were equals in that regard but Zaknafein was definitely his better in combat. However, there can only be one favorite, a fact that Arathis couldn't engineer, but because he could ignore it when Zaknafein was away, his mood was noticeably better when he was the only lieutenant by Jarlaxle's side. It's actually quite pleasant that Salvatore didn't spell out the nature of Arathis' motivations, the way that Arathis is successful in that it is shown and not told to us. Unfortunately, Arathis' fate is soon met, which is probably for the best, as this lets him safely fall into the "gets killed off before too many books ruin him" category that I'd previously (and prematurely) populated with Zaknafein.

Although the Boundless version of Jarlaxle continues to be consistent with the Timeless version of Jarlaxle, ergo de-fanged to his current timeline self rather to the much more morally ambiguous character he was in the earlier Drizzt books, there is a comical and memorable scene in Boundless that is true to Jarlaxle's irrepressible humor even whilst in the middle of delivering a solemn ultimatum. While forbidding Zaknafein from going after Arathis Hune, Jarlaxle manages to bring a smile to the very angry weapons master by assuring him that in any other circumstance, "I promise you, if we two were trapped in a cave alone and starving, I would not kill you. But if you died first, I cannot promise that I wouldn't eat you."

There are improvements in Boundless even when it comes to the less morally gray drow of Menzoberranzan. One such individual that gets a more profound treatment is Mez'Barris Del'Armgo, the future Matron Mother of the second house of Menzoberranzan. During Boundless, her mother holds that title, and House Barrison Del'Armgo is far from its destined ranking. High Priestess Mez'Barris, the most promising member of her house, has her position recognized by being the only one allowed to copulate with the strange and giant Uthegentel, a dubious honor that the other priestesses aren't interested in anyway. Other priestesses tease Mez'Barris' preference of Uthegentel because "it was unusual, almost unheard of, for a drow woman to be attracted to a man so physically superior to her". However, "Mez'Barris couldn't deny the thrill she felt when Uthgentel so easily tossed her up upon his hips, holding her aloft while he took her, never tiring. He threw her about as if she were a child, but he knew how to throw her indeed!" Other than the more than slightly disturbing analogy to a child in the context of a sexual setting, which really could've been better done comparing Mez'Barris to anything else, a rag doll maybe, or heck, even an animal, there are a lot of things going on in the description of Mez'Barris and Uthegentel's relationship dynamic that are pretty outstanding for Salvatore. First, it is made clear in no uncertain terms that Uthegentel's size is unusual, which directly addresses the misconception that elves in the Forgotten Realms are larger than humans. Elves are larger than humans in worlds such as Middle-Earth and Azeroth, but this is not generally the case on Toril. Second, Boundless specifically states with regards to Uthegentel, "He was stronger than the women, too -- another anomaly among the drow -- and was easily the strongest dark elf in the city. Even with magical assistance, other men could not match him, and even with Lolth-blessed spells of physical enhancement, other women couldn't, either." An extremely too-oft practice among the many people who love the very popular drow race is to ascribe Earth human characteristics to them: that the males are usually bigger than the females. Drow of the Forgotten Realms, like many animals of our world, are a species in which the females are larger and stronger than the males. The aspect that stands out the most about Mez'Barris and Uthegentel is a message about reversed gender roles and how, by conforming to the norm, one might miss out on some very exciting experiences. I don't really dare hope that this is a message that Salvatore was consciously conveying, but it would be pretty awesome if it was intentional on his part. Taking that message and reversing the genders for our patriarchal world, if Salvatore could encourage the idea that men do not become any less masculine when they break conventional ideologies of what a man should be, I would be willing to consider putting serious effort into building him a pedestal, and even gazing upon it favorably from time to time. 

There's one other thing going on with Mez'Barris with relation to Uthegentel, specifically, "as it pertains to the other priestesses' teasing, "'How can you be with a man who is stronger than you?' most women asked, seeming sincerely aghast at the thought. 'It isn't natural! Are you sure that you don't simply prefer the bed company of women?" Mez'Barris was sure." I'd actually completely overlooked this three times: as I was doing my read-through, as I was organizing my notes, and as I was reviewing my notes. It occurred to me, while I was writing the previous paragraph, that Mez'Barris' certainty about her preference of Uthegentel isn't based in anything sapphic, which, added to the fact that Boundless doesn't contain any gratuitous lesbian sex scenes means that Boundless is the first Drizzt book in quite possibly forever in which Salvatore doesn't fetishize female/female non-heterosexuality. This is, if it is what it is, HUGE. One of the things for which I regularly criticize Salvatore is how frustratingly often he drops in a female/female sex scene or has implied female/female sexytimes going on. Specifically its that this happens in a totally non-representative manner because, of course, the same treatment isn't even considered in terms of male/male representation. I've gone into this enough in the past and I'll go into it again later so there's no need to do that here, but seriously, just the fact that not once do we have anything even close to some random priestess whose name we won't remember banging this other random priestess whose name we similarly won't remember is such a large improvement. And with Mez'Barris conveying the reverse gender role ideology with Uthegentel, if Salvatore intentionally did all of this, I would totally consider, yet again, and pardon my french, building that fucking pedestal and putting him on it.

Dab'nay and Mez'Barris are two very different priestesses, but their respective scenes of intimacy are better done than such scenes in previous Drizzt books. The passion in Dab'nay and Zaknafein scenes are marked by affection, whereas in Mez'Barris and Uthegentel they're solely lustful. There is tenderness, even hints of trust, between Dab'nay and Zaknafein, whereas what's between Mez'Barris and Uthegentel is detached and mercenary. One is a silken handkerchief while the other is a stinging riding crop, and though each priestess doesn't feel jealousy that her lover is ridden by others, one willingly rents him out, while the other has thoroughly accepted that she is not entitled to possessive emotions.

The drow aren't the only characters who enjoy improved literary treatment in Boundless. The dramatis personae of the World Above receive some refreshing new dimensions. Wulfgar specifically, who has been hammered flat even prior to his resurrection, becomes more than a plot device that fights as much as he beds. Since his resurrection, the carefree barbarian has been primarily embodying getting the most out of his second life by sleeping with anyone and everyone willing to do so. In Boundless, we're told that Wulfgar has been with Penelope Harpell exclusively, even though she is a much older woman and, as Penelope herself realizes, Wulfgar can get practically any younger woman that he wants so he chooses. However, Wulfgar chooses Penelope and exclusively Penelope, because he's enamored with her confidence and authenticity. One of the things that I criticize Salvatore for is his poor handling of female characters, especially with regards to how the most redeeming features for his female characters are youth and beauty. For instance, Drizzt and Catti-brie's supposed great love has never been tested "on screen", for Catti died in her forties and was returned to Drizzt's side as a hot young thing. We never got to see how the glorious hero would've behaved as his mortal wife grew old and frail while he remained young and hale. Drizzt might've told himself that he'd never think Catti ugly, but he was never tested. Admittedly, Penelope isn't super old, but having the hunk that is young Wulfgar faithfully and exclusively stay by her side goes some distance in making up for the previous treatment and portrayal of women in the Drizzt books. The only downside to Wulfgar and Penelope is that their scenes of intimacy are awkward to the point of cringe-worthy, which suggests to me that Salvatore is writing outside of his comfort zone. Nonetheless, he's giving it an honest effort, and even though it doesn't work out, it looks to be a genuine attempt, for there aren't any contradictory messages in Wulfgar and Penelope's relationship.

Boundless is the first time that we see Dahlia up and about since Night of the Hunter. I'd feared that Salvatore was going to have Kimmuriel fix more than the damage wrought unto her by Methil El-Viddenvelp. It would've been an easy and lazy plot device, along the same lines of Idalia's Flute and the aboleth's influence in "developing" Entreri. Thankfully, Kimmuriel has not undone Dahlia's past traumas, nor even eliminated the more recent ones and the personality flaws that she has as a result of those traumas. What we see in Boundless is that Dahlia is still who she was during the Neverwinter Saga, modified by the experiences of her relationship with Entreri. As we follow Dahlia through a Waterdhavian nobles' ball, in addition to learning more about her through her thoughts, we're able to glean additional information through her physical appearance. Most of those details that are mentioned in the past, but certainly don't hurt to see repeated. For instance, "She was tall for an elf, nearly six feet, with black hair that she dyed with streaks of cardinal red." Specifics like height tend to be vague in Salvatore's writing, for after so many books it's clear that he can't keep track of his own details, so it's good to see Dahlia's, and even better that, once again, Salvatore reminds the readers that elves in Toril tend to be short. It's good to see that Dahlia still wears the diamonds she'd accrued from her years of being a black widow, for even though she's abandoned those practices, she hasn't abandoned her past and who she was. Furthermore, she now wears her hair in the manner that she'd use for her softer guise when she was with Drizzt, except this is presumably neither an illusion nor as a result of trying to manipulate Entreri as she did with it and Drizzt. It's a subtle reminder of how things have changed for her in a lasting way. 

In the previous books, we'd only seen Dahlia be angry, vindictive, selfish and petty. Although I'd always liked her more than any of Salvatore's other female characters, my opinion regarding Dahlia is an unpopular one. Dahlia felt very much like a character that Salvatore wrote for readers to hate. In Boundless, he appears to be trying to make her more than that. During the ball, Dahlia is comical, even silly, both of which can begin to endear a reader to a character. Throughout the rest of the book, Dahlia exhibits courage and loyalty so steadfast that it's easy to forget that she was once a villainous character, but she doesn't do so in such a way as to come across as goody two-shoes either. Dahlia is still very much not a goodly character, nor should she be at this point. Unfortunately, there exists a rather large problem with Dahlia, and that is her relationship with Entreri. In just as artificial as a way that it started, so, too, are we told more than that we're shown, namely, that Entreri had overcome his childhood demons and is now helping her overcome hers. The thing is, that whole plot with how Entreri overcame his demons by doing Drizzt-like good deeds doesn't ring true at all, and we're not shown how Entreri has been helping Dahlia overcome her own demons. I doubt we ever will, but I'll discuss the poor handling of Entreri in this book later. For now, I will add that I thought it was a good touch by Salvatore to have the apartment shared by the couple to be located in the Southern Ward of Waterdeep. The Southern Ward is, as of fifth edition D&D and the current timeline (~1490s DR), is no longer the poor ward that it used to be, which is very fitting for Entreri because he wouldn't want to live in the grimy Dock Ward or the destitute Field Ward any more than he'd want to live in the aristocratic Sea Ward, the Watch-infested Castle Ward, or the noble-infested North Ward. The Southern Ward is inhabited by common folk instead of hoity-toity nobles, with a good portion of its population hailing from southern Faerûn. Although Entreri's Calishite heritage is not given much treatment in the Drizzt novels, it would make sense if, even with his rough and austere childhood, that associations of home would bring some degree of comfort or at least familiarity. Waterdeep's Southern Ward is home to some of the best singers of Calishite music and probably the best examples of Calishite cuisine. The location of homes above stables or around inn yards allows us to accept that Entreri would have been able to ensure a good sightline of the goings-on around his domicile, likely a necessity for one of Entreri's nature. The only downside to all of this is that Salvatore calls the Southern Ward the "South Ward", a nomenclature that only fools would use, according to Volo's Waterdeep Enchiridion.

The best-developed member among the resurrected Companions of the Hall is Regis/Spider Parrafin, and this continues to be the case in Boundless. In the past, I'd criticized Salvatore on numerous occasions about how his heroes perform a lot more questionable actions on screen than do his villains. In the travesty of the series, Hero, I'd specifically noted that Regis and Wulfgar kicking people who were already lying down to be decidedly not heroic, even if the victims of said kicking were highwaymen. In Boundless, Regis doesn't do anything of the sort. No, in fact, he actually performs what would be a humbling or even degrading act himself by normal Salvatore standards, and conveys a surprising and important message thereby. Much like how I'm uncertain that the message conveyed by Mez'Barris and Uthegentel is intentional, I'm not sure if this is the case with Regis, but Regis admits to using his looks to get what he wants, which is unfortunately a strategy traditionally attributed to women alone, both inside and outside of Salvatore's books. When Regis states to Dahlia, "Because I do the same thing, as does my lovely wife, Donnola" as he points out that Dahlia knows how to use her looks to gain an advantage in her negotiations, he, in my mind, is performing a much more admirable feat than slaying a hundred rampaging ogres singlehandedly. Humility is a mark of any true hero, and although Drizzt and his companions are supposed to possess tons of humility along with other virtuous qualities, we see so little of those qualities. Instead, much of their actions are full of sanctimony and self-satisfaction. Another thing that was done well with Regis is his reaction to being in Entreri's presence. Despite the significantly de-fanged current nature of Entreri, and Regis' intellectual knowledge that the assassin wouldn't hurt him, Regis struggles to suppress the fear he feels in Entreri's presence. This is one of the few instances in which Salvatore correctly portrays trauma. Regis has more than enough reason to behave the way that he does, Entreri inflicted significant distress in his previous life, and, as Regis notes, "Was there any amount of time and any number of deeds that could fully erase that?" Regis' musing is at the core of many trauma victims' journey to recovery. Furthermore, there is no contrived PTSD in Regis' experiences like was the case with Drizzt in Hero. Accurate, too, is the way that Regis' struggle is focused on the stub of his pinky, with which he fidgets while fighting to hold his voice steady. This shows us rather than telling us that Artemis Entreri is still very much a trigger for Regis, and speaks more to Regis' courage in facing that trigger than had he been the one facing down Demogorgon in Menzoberranzan.

Those are the major positives in terms of characterization and literary devices employed in Boundless. There are also good points dispersed among the descriptions and interactions with lesser characters and incidental elements. While we're not quite sure what the demon possessing the little girl named Sharon is (or if it's a demon at all), Salvatore did a decent job of making Sharon unsettling and creepy under the creature's influence. It's also refreshing to see intrigue in a Drizzt book that isn't confined to Menzoberranzan. Although Salvatore doesn't do the intrigues of Waterdeep justice, he does make an effort to include them, and even if he doesn't show us a great amount of it, I appreciate the nod that he gives to its complexity through indicating that despite months spent in the City of Splendors, one as acute as Entreri hasn't been able to unravel the mysteries he'd been tasked to solve. Unfortunately, there's a total hiatus from the further development of the Neverember plot. The final thing that I wanted to mention for this section is a detail, that, although minor, stood up to fact-checking, which delighted me. A lot of Salvatore's action scenes and descriptions, despite going into overlong detail, are often impractical or simply incorrect. Towards the end of Boundless, we see Drizzt running with everything he's got, "his arms pumping for maximum momentum in the desired direction". I'm not a runner, so I had to research this, but I was ecstatic to find that pumping one's arms does actually help one run faster! Bravo, Salvatore!

That concludes the positive-oriented analysis of Boundless. From this point onward, I'll be performing my brutally critical and honest breakdown of the novel. Fair warning, it's not going to be pretty, because Boundless isn't. Sit tight though, and I'll tell you all the ways that it was bad in excruciating detail, for better or worse. 

[adamrevi3ws]

Persona 5

Today, the game Persona 5 Royal comes out. It is the “extended edition” to another game, Persona 5, which was released in 2016. Well, last night I beat Persona 5, and frankly, I think it’s one of my personal favorites of the Playstation 4’s phenomenal catalog of console exclusives.

The best way to describe Persona 5 would be two words: Playable Anime. Centered around a group of Japanese teenagers that discover a realm of human subconscious and choose to manipulate it to right societal wrongs (think inception except if Christopher Nolan had an imagination), it gets as weird as you expect It is unnecessarily horny at points, extremely long, has heavy-handed yet vague themes, and even has not one, but two “beach episodes.” That being said, it also embodies some of best things one can find in anime, too. It has a diverse and fun cast of characters that you easily get attached to, a fascinating plot with jaw dropping twists at every corner, gorgeous and mind-bending visuals, and a catchy and stylish soundtrack. Whenever I got on the DC metro in the past few months, its ‘opening theme’ of sorts would immediately start playing in my head and jumpstart a good mood. To top it off, it even has randomly placed anime segments replacing the occasional cutscenes.

One of this game’s biggest successes that sets it apart from other games is that it actually makes me enjoy turn-based combat. With the exception of Pokemon, I absolutely despise turn-based combat. Turn-based combat is frustratingly slow, completely detracts from immersion (which is something I highly value in games), and allows entire save sessions to be ruined if a single mistake is made. Some can even attest to my hatred of turn-based combat, ranging from roommates experiencing my rage while playing Pokemon to D&D party members noting that I fall asleep during combat sequences. I’m not completely sure how Persona 5 solves these issues, but I suspect has much to do with the ultimate sense of stimulation that the game has to offer. As previously mentioned, Persona 5 has a masterful combination of stylish and unique visuals, ranging from character designs to even font, and an extremely catchy and upbeat soundtrack to spice up what would might otherwise be a chore. Hearing someone loudly sing “YOU’LL NEVER SEE IT COOMMMINNNG” in an elaborate Acid Jazz groove while seeing the screen explode into a word jumble when you select a character to use is the perfect way of making turn-based combat into an utterly bombastic experience.

While half of the game is dedicated towards combat and dungeon crawling as the main cast explores and fights their way through the “metaverse” of human subconsciousness, the other half is dedicated to just living life as an everyday teen in the middle of Tokyo. This originally came off as unnecessary and mundane, but I quickly found a deep joy in these banal tasks similar to how I have in Death Stranding and Animal Crossing: New Horizons. Despite its mundane nature, Persona 5 remains a JRPG, and a key function in these segments are making a tough call between a large variety of choices of activities in a few short slots of time. You have to choose between becoming a teacher’s pet, improving your Shogi skills, working at a bar, eating giant hamburgers, and even taking your friends (or potential love interests) out to the local amusement parks, all in the few slots of time you have between the end of school and when your talking cat forces you to go to sleep. However, the highlights of these brilliant slice of life portions are when you develop deep relationships with the game’s wide variety of characters. As the game goes on, you become extremely close with a bunch of random people in the Tokyo metropolitan area, extending from your classmates/teammates to local politicians, shady gun owners, and delinquent video game prodigies, but it’s your choice to determine who you hang out and get close with, with the tightest bonds translating into serious benefits in combat. The extremely stimulating combat sequences contribute to the game’s fun and addictive nature, but on the flipside, the sense of connection one develops with the game’s world and characters developed in these slice of life segments are what really brings you back.

Obviously, no game is perfect. I already detailed some issues I had with the game (mostly story/character related) in my comparison/genre identification at the beginning, but that’s not all. While I have a lot of love for developing relationships with its characters, the scenes where you do so (especially towards the end) really emphasize how much of a Mary Sue the player character is, with no self-awareness in sight. This of course especially feels jarring with its female characters, all of which you have the option to romance (even when they’re muuuch older than you). As previously mentioned, the game is mind-numbingly long, including maybe eight long dungeons known as “palaces” and new character arcs to accompany them. While this wasn’t too much of an issue to me because I could easily rationalize them as different “seasons” that added new status quos to the game which served as one long “show,” this may serve as a turn-off to some players. Those aside, I think my largest issue with Persona 5 would by far be its final boss battles. I believe that nearly 80% of these bosses are what are commonly referred to as “bullet sponges,” aka enemies whose difficulty was not in their attacks or technique, but rather their extremely large health bar and the amount of time it takes to whittle it down. Although the first few bosses and very final enemy actually came off as challenging, rest of the main boss fights in the game felt more like a test of player endurance rather than player skill, which made an otherwise impressive combat repertoire fall flat.

Persona 5 is the freshest breath of air possible to an otherwise exhausted JRPG formula. It’s anime-esque style makes it impressively engaging and complements a compelling plot that mirrors the “high school slice of life interrupted by crazy supernatural or sci-fi nonsense” archetype of some of my favorite anime (Mob Psycho 100, Diamond is Unbreakable, Kill La Kill). Because there are few video games that make me want to get down and dance on the DC subway, Persona 5 is an experience I’ll never forget. Once the social distancing and quarantines end, and I implore you to Wake up, Get up, Get out there and buy it or its recently released expanded edition. I give it a 9.5/10 stars.

[baldbae-tele]

Connections

I have always been a fan of making strong connections, connecting with nature, with my spirituality and most of all with people. I revel in the moments when I can form a seemingly unbreakable bond with a person and continue to hold on to that bond for as long as possible. I have an extremely firm grasp...and letting go is one of the most difficult things for me to ever have to do...But this post isn’t about letting go...It is about the value of connection.

I AM Fortunate,

I call myself fortunate because of the amazing connections I have made over the years. Connections which helped me survive high school, thrive in University and experience cultures which have managed to blow my mind.

I love you Bermuda! (this island and its people has changed my life)  Experiencing it with two of my closest friends two years in a row served to fortify a friendship, that I already believed was unbreakable. I am convinced that Bermuda and its beaches has healing powers. Maybe it’s the pink sand, maybe it’s the warmth of the people. (but that’s a story for another day)

FEBRUARY 2020 (Thank you for your love and light)

February reminded me of how valuable the connections I made in Toronto were. It reminded me that although I constantly sing this song, ‘Toronto wasn’t for me!’ I have left so many people who have had such a major impact on my life there. They know who they are! I LOVE YOU ALL AND THANK YOU <3

February has given me the gift of reconnection, in an extremely creative and refreshing package. I believe Jen referred to it as the moment when the former student became her carnival teacher. This dynamic and powerful lady who I idolized in University and who served as a role model for me was now ready and willing to learn about my culture. The roles had switched. We danced to soca music as the sun rose on Tyrico Bay, screamed loudly as Kes sauntered onto the stage in all his red man glory, enjoyed pan music while waiting outside of a venue we would never get to enter (no fault of ours), had heart to hearts on Maracas beach and palanced down the streets of Port of Spain while being doused in paint, mud and water...we mashed it up, shelled out down and turned it over and now THE STAGE NOT GOOD AGAIN! I dare to call my former teacher, now more than that, more than a role model...but a friend. I am grateful that she was also willing to open the door to her inner circle for me to form new connections as well. 

Tabanka

Jen and the crew are gone now, but we still have all of these memories to hold onto and an even stronger connection. I am grateful. You are always welcome in this little paradise isle. You and the crew have definitely been inducted into the Trinidad Carnival Hall of Fame for your dedication to all things Soca! But I miss you.

Continued Connections and More Tabanka. To the young man who made me laugh until my sides and cheeks hurt, despite moments where there was an obvious language and cultural barrier...Thank you. Thank you for sharing moments of enjoyment beside me with no pressure or any expectations. You’ve managed to restore a faith in, respect and appreciation for the male population, that I thought I’d lost. Our interactions were healing, more so than you know. Thank you for my Swedish lessons, a language that I’d never heard nor did I ever think my Trini lips could even begin to form to speak. Thank you for peaking my interest in exploring new places in the world that I’d never considered visiting before. BERMUDA SWEETTT and so is the rest of the Caribbean but I have to broaden my horizons. With that being said

Tack and  farväl

Until my next blog post

#connections #reconnections #newconnections #happiness #gratitude

[literaryeagle]

Time for another Venom book review! This is the Lethal Protector novel by James R. Tuck, which was released last year (2018). It is an adaptation of David Michelinie's "Lethal Protector" six-issue comic book story from 1993, which was the beginning of Venom's adventures as an antihero (and also one of the tales that the Venom movie was loosely based on). If you're worried that retelling "Lethal Protector" entirely in text with no pictures would be boring, fear not, because this book is great! It fills out the story with some nifty details and even some totally new scenes, while still maintaining the original comic's sense of humor. Cool!

For the rest of this review, I’ll use the same “The Good, the Bad, and the Symbrock” format that I did in some of my previous posts. In other words, I’m going to summarize what I liked, what I didn’t like, and also some points of interest for Symbrock fans. Keep reading for the complete review!

The Good:

-The cover art! Venom looked beautiful in the front cover illustration by Gabriele Dell’Otto, and the back cover image by Natasha MacKenzie had a nice ink splatter effect that fit well with how Venom was described in the book.

-The tribute at the beginning said "Dedicated to all the people out there, no matter how flawed they may be, who strive to protect the innocent."

-If you love symbiotes, you'll adore some of the poetic descriptions in this book! For example, Venom's tendrils were compared to "windblown ink", and the Scream symbiote was referred to as "liquid sunlight".

-The book included new scenes that were not in the comic. Some of these additions were quite interesting, such as the part that showed the Life Foundation symbiotes choosing their hosts.

-When Eddie was separated from the symbiote, he was left with nothing to wear, since the symbiote usually makes his clothes. But was he embarrassed by that? Nope, according to the book, he was "as unconcerned as a house cat with his own nudity". That description cracked me up!

The Bad:

As expected, a lot of the book's dialogue was from the original comic, but that means some of the lines were a bit cheesy by today's standards. I've been reading a lot of old Venom comics lately, so I've grown accustomed to that kind of dialogue (besides, I love David Michelinie's humor), but it might not be to everyone's taste. Also, this book added references to modern technology (smartphones and social media), so seeing updated technology paired with the old-fashioned dialogue was kind of weird.

The Symbrock:

-When Eddie signed his name for a room to spend the night: The narration explained that Eddie's signature "had changed over the years, become more elaborate as the symbiote added a long line that jigged and jagged and swirled back in on itself." Eddie's signature had become a signature for both Eddie and the symbiote! They signed for the room together! Ahhh, this book is too good!

-During Eddie's first encounter with the Diggers: "once again he was grateful for his Other, glad they had found each other all those months ago."

-The reunion (when Eddie found the symbiote imprisoned in a Life Foundation tube): The book did such a fantastic job describing the way Eddie and the symbiote yearned for each other, saying that they were "separated by the unbreakable glass of the tube but unable to pull away from the almost contact" and "So close, even with the tube, that the missing contact was an ache in Brock's bones."

-Also during the reunion: Eddie said, "Once again... and forever, we are... Venom!" Okay, this line was already in the original comic (which I mentioned back in my review of Venomnibus Volume 1), but I figured it was worth pointing out again.

Overall, this was a great book, and I highly recommend it! I wonder if Marvel plans on doing novelizations of other Venom stories? If so, I really hope they do Len Kaminski's 1996 story "The Hunger". That would be awesome!

Well, that's it for this review. If you have any questions about this book, feel free to ask. Keep checking my blog for more Venom content!

[ayearofpike]

Black Knight (Witch World, Vol. 2)

Simon Pulse, 2014 441 pages, 9 chapters + prologue and epilogue ISBN 978-1-4424-6734-7 LOC: PZ7.P626 Bl 2014 OCLC: 1065025018 Released December 2, 2104 (per B&N)

A month after her connection, Jessie Ralle starts dreaming about a young thief who mysteriously disappears in a flash of light. On the ninth night of the same lucid dream, she herself sees the flash, and wakes up next to the thief and four others in transport to a deserted jungle island. There are no ideas, no instructions, no obvious goals. There’s just a clue, a plaque mounted near their drop-off point that indicates that six groups just like theirs are here, but only one will make it out alive.

In other words: Remember that world-building we had in the first book, where it was implied that Jessie and her baby daughter were going to be integral components to the new and evolving leadership among the witch council? Remember the difficulty and heartbreak of Jimmy only being alive in one half of her life? Remember the potential new bonds of realizing her father was active in her upbringing, and could be again in both worlds? Well, fuck all that — let’s have a Hunger Games. 

OK, technically this is more like Battle Royale, and Pike actually makes a reference to it as the young adults acclimate to their surroundings. But it is undeniable the influence that Suzanne Collins had on YA fiction, and certainly YA sci-fi/fantasy/analogues. In the wake of Katniss Everdeen, the market felt like it made a hard shift from doomed supernatural romances to dystopian future societies. It would be irresponsible of Pike to not try to cash in on that.

But this book ... is lacking in this regard. Collins’ success was not just that she made us care about Katniss, but that we cared about the bigger problem endemic to her (and all the other contestants’) situation. And Pike doesn’t give us enough to care about here. We don’t know what the stakes are, beyond survival. We don’t know who these people are, where they come from, or what they have to live for. We don’t even know where they are or why. I’m assuming there was another book or two planned for this series that would eventually get us to the meanings and revelations of this battle and why they were chosen to fight it and what ultimately was to come out of it. But this shit was so unsatisfying and we care so little about anyone or anything here that I can’t imagine we’ll ever see resolution.

(Like, does Pike even care? He claimed when the first one came out that it was going to be his “finest work,” and that the series could go “over ten books.” But it’s been almost five years and we haven’t seen another one of these. He didn’t mention his newer works at ALL in that recent Electric Lit interview. So who knows?)

The biggest problem is that the characters and setting we already know makes such a drastic shift to accommodate this story. And, like, I get it. The model of the industry, especially when this book came out, almost requires that you have established characters and an ongoing storyline before you ever publish anything. But it doesn’t feel connected to what’s come before. At all. It’s a new place we’ve never seen, everyone in the action except Jessie is a new character (and remember there are thirty-five of them), and there is almost zero resolution or explanation for what’s happening. There’s no reason this couldn’t have been literally anybody. Like, this could just as easily have been a Sita book, and maybe it would have actually made more sense, except that there’s no other vampires left. It probably shouldn’t have been a book about Jessie, who has a uniquely important position in witch world in light of the high-profile deaths she’s overseen and her responsibility to the Special. None of what happens in this story fits with anything that’s led up to it, and we are left a) wondering why the hell we’re reading this and b) ultimately unsatisfied.

I don’t even necessarily feel like there’s much to summarize, but I’m gonna do it anyway, because I’m dedicated.

We start with a chapter about the thief — Marc — whose MO is to hide in the trunk of a fancy car he’s valet-parked, wait for the owner to take him home, and then make off with the jewelry she (usually it’s a she) was wearing after she falls asleep. This heist is going to be his last job, because he doesn’t want to risk someone putting together a pattern that these high-profile thefts all came in the wake of the victims having been at his theater. So he steals the lady’s necklace and then her car to safely get out of Dodge, but when he stops to take a leak the light appears.

This is the dream Jessie has for over a week. The rest of the story is told from her immediate perspective, in first-person present tense just like a good little dystopian. She’s wondering about the dream, but she’s more concerned about who she just saw in the mall: the Highlander and President Coroner, just sitting there eating ice cream like they didn’t both get fatal holes in their chests last month. And yes, this is in witch world, where they died. She tails them and discovers they’re staying with (of course) the Alchemist, who tells Jessie there’s a reason for this and she needs to be prepared for ... something big, he isn’t clear on it. The Council has more info, maybe: the bad witches need to replace their leadership, and Jessie is first in line because she facilitated the killing. But what about the fact that she just saw President Coroner? The Council has an answer to that as well: one of the witch genes allows its bearer to control time, and so probably the Alchemist has that and has brought her and the Highlander forward from the past for some reason.

So Jessie goes home and has the dream again, only this time when the light appears she feels as though she’s yanked from her bed. She wakes up in the real world (and yes, I have expressed my hate for these names, but I’m sticking with them for consistency’s sake) in some kind of a shipping container with five other dudes, all of them wearing identical green outfits and matching unbreakable bracelets. And yes, one of them is Marc. The others are a precocious genius who’s going to MIT at 16, a quiet and scared Korean girl, an Israeli military fighter, and a Sudanese farmer who exudes strength and just seems to accept the situation. All of them were snatched at about the same time, globally and not locally — morning for the Americans, evening for Africa and Israel, middle of the night in Korea. But as far as Jessie can tell, she’s the only witch. So what is this about? 

They don’t get very far before the next chapter, where Jessie wakes up in witch world and realizes she’s in some deep shit. She spends all day trying to find Marc, but like ... if he’s not connected, how is this going to help? She ends up not doing anything about it, and awakens again in the real world on some kind of volcanic jungle island. They find the aforementioned plaque and immediately realize that they’re going to need to work together and find a place to defend. They also need food, and so Jessie has to start showing her hand when she catches a bunch of fish just by grabbing them out of the water. They find a cave to hide out in, but they also see some fast-moving people in gray outfits, presumably another set of contestants.

The Israeli wants to hunt them down — kill before we get killed, she says — and so everyone except the brain and the Korean go tracking. What they find is a grotesque death scene: five bodies in various states of dismemberment. It’s not the gray people there, though: it’s a giant Swede who has a deal for Jessie. He wants her to kill her humans as a show of faith, and he’ll do the same, and then they can team up against the other witches. Because of course he’s gotten all the information already, having made better use of his interim day in witch world than stalking some boy. Jessie refuses, and they fight, only the Swede has a healing factor that works almost immediately. Luckily some of Jessie’s time-controlling gene kicks in and she manages to run away, but her teammates aren’t so lucky. Another witch shows up and throws motherfucking LAVA at them, killing the Israeli and spearing the Sudanese to a tree.

So her next day in witch world needs to be more productive than the last one. Jessie calls up the Council, who is all pissed off that she didn’t come to them already. To survive, they say, she’s gonna have to go back to the Alchemist, because obviously this is what he wanted to prepare her for. So she shows up and talks to the Highlander, who starts working with her on fighting. Specifically, he forcibly activates her telekinesis power by throwing her off a cliff. So after this she’s gonna want to unwind with her family and enjoy their time together, right? Nope — she goes straight to Marc’s house and tells him the world’s least believable story, ending in the prospect that she might want to try to kill him so his witch powers activate in the other world. But haven’t we already said that killing someone in witch world means they’re totally dead? Technicalities. So she gets home and, oh shit, Jimmy’s mad that she went on a date with some random dude without talking to him at all about her troubles! What a silly boy!

When they wake up in the real world again, the Sudanese warrior is totally healed. Apparently the Korean girl has a super-powered healing factor even though she’s not a witch, tied somehow to the death of her twin sister, who presumably channels the power through her. They’ve also been offered a truce by a couple of other witches, not the ones who tried to kill them last night. So they partner up, but the Korean girl’s healing factor is instantly undone when she tries to fix one of the other dude’s teammates but they die randomly on the walk. (Probably actually secretly strangled by the lava-thrower, who Jessie learned yesterday can also make herself invisible.) They talk about the bracelets, which have some kind of weird stone inside, and one of the other witches says he’s found the source: a giant wall that blocks off half of the island they’re on, which you can only see if you climb to the top of the volcano.

As they’re walking, the gray team attacks ... sort of. These people are short and pale, almost albinos, but they move faster than any human can and Jessie knows they have some kind of group mind that allows them to work together. They surround the group and lure them into a battle with the giant Swede, and while they’re fighting him the invisible lava thrower murders all the humans except five: Marc (who does take a poisoned knife to the back), brain boy, Korean healer, and two dudes on a new witch’s team. Jessie manages to lop off her hand and collect her bracelet before she totally vanishes and gets away. Oh, and the other witch has captured the leader of the albinos, and is holding her hostage to attempt to lure in the rest of them. She doesn’t talk, but her telepathy is unsettling at best.

Jimmy shakes her awake in witch world and tells her to do whatever she has to in order to survive. If that means blowing another dude, whatever. So Jessie calls up the Council, which gives her a little more info on the two witches she’s teamed up with. Watch out for the second one, they say (not the one who’s tied up an albino), because he might have choked his last boyfriend to death and successfully covered it up. She goes back to the Alchemist’s house, where President Coroner pins her down about why their present selves can’t help Jessie train. So she has to limit just what she says about their deaths, and in turn they limit telling her that they traveled to Jessie’s funeral in the near future. 

Fuck this training, then, right? Jessie figures the only thing to do is help Marc live, and to do that she’ll have to activate his witch genes. But to convince him to die she’s probably gonna have to give up the booty ... only she can’t do it, she’s too busy thinking of Jimmy for a change in this novel. He wants to go through with it anyway (the death, I mean) but she has second thoughts and isn’t ready to put him through it. So they fall asleep next to each other and wake up in a cave on the side of the volcano, where the other two witches are fighting. It seems the first dude had his teammates on watch, but they mysteriously choked to death in the night while the second dude was backing them up. Huh. But they have to keep moving, climbing to the place where the second dude said he saw the wall, for ... like, reasons. 

They find another cave near the top of the volcano, and inside there are drawings showing a woman who looks suspiciously like the Council president touching a bracelet to a giant wall. They have to learn more, but the second witch isn’t eager to reapproach the wall. Brain Boy wants to go, so they agree that Chokey Witch can watch Healing Girl and Slowly Dying Marc while the rest of them investigate. Brain Boy touches the wall and freezes, and even though Jessie knocks him away immediately he senses that a lot more time passed, and he’s seen things that happened in witch world but not the real world. So Jessie wants to try, and when she touches it she’s suddenly playing red queen with the dead gambler from the first book, who reminds her that there’s more to the game than just the next card in her own hand. What? I don’t know.

She comes to on the ground with a lot of screaming going on. The Swede is back, so she and the first witch have to fight him. But he forgets Jessie’s plan and attacks weird, getting stabbed in the gut by one of the flying spears Jessie is controlling with her new telekinesis. Oh, and here’s Invisible Lava Thrower too, about to kill Brain Boy! He acknowledges that there’s nothing he can do and succumbs so Jessie has enough time to grab the Swede’s head and crank it around 360 degrees. Lava Girl vanishes, and Jessie picks up our other witch and carries him back to the cave, which is suddenly being guarded by all six albino dwarves. The other witch says that in this proximity, killing the leader will cause all of them to die because of the group mind, so Jessie sneaks up and lops off  her head, and then goes inside the cave by herself.

Sure enough, there’s Lava Girl, holding Chokey at machete-point. Marc is mostly submerged in a freezing stream, and Healing Girl is just, like, there. Chokey fights free, but of course Lava Girl hits him with ... you know, because they’re INSIDE A FUCKING VOLCANO. Only Jessie has realized something: these bracelets with the rock inside that matches the wall control their physical connection to the island. Lava Girl looks sick, pale, and weak since she’s lost hers, and when Jessie casually chucks it into the lava she drops dead.

And now Healing Girl comes to. She wants to try to help revive Marc before it’s too late, and wants to study the poisoned knife. Only she then tries to stab Jessie with it. Turns out that when she was alone with the first witch, the one hiding outside with a spear through his guts, he used his strongest power: mental suggestion. He turned Healing Girl into a slave, designed to kill those who weren’t expecting it. Jessie uses all her mental powers to break the hold, upon which Healing Girl ... jumps right into the motherfucking lava herself. 

I don’t know, I guess because we’re getting close to the end.

So Jessie disguises herself as Healing Girl and goes to confront the last witch standing besides herself. Who, surprise, does NOT have a spear through his guts. Apparently he can disguise himself too, in addition to the hypnosis. So he tells her to kill herself with the knife, but she stabs him in the lungs just before dropping her disguise, and then ... slits her wrists.

So Marc can live.

Because only one can survive, and of course it should be some dude we just met rather than the main character of the LAST TWO BOOKS. THE ENTIRE SERIES THUS FAR.

But as Jessie’s soul is floating away, she sees something. She sees herself, only older. Even though I thought once you were connected you stopped aging. And she tells herself that it’s not over, and they can go wherever they want to go ... or whenever, rather.

The epilogue takes place at Jessie’s memorial service (not actually a funeral, because there is no body, Jessie’s just been missing for a month but because Marc is now connected they think they know what happened) where Jimmy approaches Marc and they talk about what they know. In particular, Jimmy asks Marc to watch after his real-world son, who oh yeah there was an unfollowed thread where they got a DNA report that said he wasn’t actually Jimmy’s kid but it was also prepared by Jessie’s still-mostly-absentee father who has an agenda in ascending the ranks of the Council so its authenticity is questionable. But then they talk about Jessie and ... neither one thinks she’s actually dead.

And that.

Is the end of Black Knight.

I can sort of pick out the seeds that Pike is sowing in this story. I can start to sense the coming trails and paths the characters might walk in the supposedly potential ten-book series about witches. But like. You just essentially killed your MAIN CHARACTER. Your NARRATOR. And we don’t actually care about this jewel thief guy, who by all appearances is a BAD PERSON. But you went ahead and put him in the forefront. 

Is it any wonder this series fizzled out? Part of why I (and maybe a lot of us) got tired of dystopian fiction is that so many authors felt the need to keep raining shit on their protagonists. And yeah, this is another Hunger Games thing, but there’s a reason there — the dictatorial leadership fighting to keep rebellion down. To be perfectly honest, even though I see that reason, I didn’t like it there either. At some point, I wanted Collins to HELP Katniss rather than repeatedly jamming a boot in her face. We want to trust our authors to care about the protagonist the way we’re supposed to care. So when writers keep making their characters climb uphill, for no reason other than to try to get readers to buy the next one and see how they get over the obstacles, it becomes stale. If they obviously don’t care, why should we?