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soobmint · 4 years

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paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.”

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest.

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together.

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood.

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck.

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure.

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face.

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into.

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back.

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

1K notes · View notes

resinatingbeauty · 3 years

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Everything You Need To Know About UV Resin

I thought I would make this post because of how much Amazon pesters me to answer questions regarding UV resin and I know many of you were able to learn and benefit from my other craft posts which focused more on epoxy. Today I'm going to cover all the things I have learned using UV resin, which is something I use almost exclusively for many of the items you see in my Etsy shop.

What is UV resin?

UV resins are photochemicals that react to different wavelengths of UV (sunlight) to cure. This allows for a much shorter cure time and longer work time than epoxy resin, as UV resin will not begin to cure / harden until it is exposed to UV light. In the photos above, you can see the two main types/brands of UV resin I typically use for the creation of my projects, Solarez and Limino, both of which can be purchased on Amazon (Solarez has its own website, but shipping is not free though Amazon only has some of their products). While Solarez is known for surfboard creation and repair, boat repair, etc. It is one of the few UV resins that can be used to create larger projects such as these Fairy Garden Jars you see below.

Normally, however, UV resin is used for smaller projects - jewelry, coating, small casts, and the like. It is practically the same chemical combo found in UV nail polish. These chemicals may be triggered to harden using the same UV lamps one would see at a nail salon, though not all UV lamps or torches cover the full spectrum of UV wavelengths as sunlight (more on this later). I rely on UV resin for the creation of my popular rune sets, as they require more detail and time to fully create than the 30-45 minute work time one typically has with epoxy. Below are some examples of items I have in the shop made primarily with UV resin.

UV resins are typically non toxic and are not harmful to the environment when cured or uncured. The resin itself shares similar properties to epoxy but can have a much lower viscosity in general, making it more ideal for casting and coating than doming. UV resin does give off an odor when curing (Solarez is the WORST even when not curing), much more so than epoxy.

Pros & Cons of UV resin

Pros:

No mixing. UV resins are ready to go from the bottle.

Longer work time, shorter cure time. Great for making multiple projects at once or highly detailed, smaller projects. UV resin fully cures in approx 5 mins in full sunlight.

Great for clear casts and adding a glossy finish to any project.

Bonds to metal, wood, plastic, etc. Making it great for quick fixes.

Most are self degassing and self leveling.

Easier to handle. No component mixing means you can't possibly ruin your project from the get go.

Accepts most Inclusions / pigments one would use with epoxy

Waterproof when cured.

Cons:

Expensive. UV resin will average $65+ (for 1000g) USD for the equivalent of a 32oz epoxy combo for $20+. Solarez is on the cheaper side, but harder to work with.

Fickle. UV resin will produce bubbles that don't want to surface, must be used in very thin layers, prone to shrinkage, and cannot cure if using opaque or dense Inclusions or pigments.

Can only be used with clear silicone molds. Plastic molds tend to adhere / melt to UV resin. Solarez may be used with an MEKP catalyst to get around this, but not foolproof.

May only be used for small projects.

Must purchase UV lamp / torch to cure, but some only cure with certain wavelengths or sunlight itself. Can over cure and become brittle or undercure and be tacky.

Even clear but detailed molds may not cure correctly.

So, you may notice there are more cons than there are pros when it comes to UV resin. This is absolutely true- for cost effectiveness alone, unless you are looking to mass produce something or need more potability / work time for your project (as I do), I recommend avoiding UV resin and going with epoxy which will usually even yield better overall results.

If you DO decide to try UV resin or have tried UV resin, you may run into a few problems initially that will cause you to trash projects and become frustrated. Never curing resin is a popular complaint, this next portion of this post is entirely dedicated to troubleshooting UV resin in order to better help you achieve the results you are looking for.

Using & Troubleshooting

There are many different brands of UV Resin available. Save for Solarez, the ones that come in the big or small tubes like the Limino resin shown (I've used brands Miraclekoo, Decoroom, DIY, Let's Resin, Solarez, SooKoo, and Limino) are pretty much the same product selling for around the same price per milligram / fluid oz. They all have about the same viscosity and will generally yield the same results and have the same average cure time.

Note: Solarez is more of a polyester based resin or can be acrylic based depending on which of their products you purchase. It has a very strong odor and is more liquid than these others. It is also fairly cheaper (Almost half the price) and can be purchased in larger quantities. Unfortunately, even though the price tag is enticing, I really don't recommend it. It is very fickle with the UV wavelengths used to cure it. If you are trying to do any indoor project using a UV torch or lamp, you are going to want to even then drop an extra $20-$60 on a multi spectrum UV lamp to cure your project. You will find that you have to intermittently expose the resin to light or it gets an orange peel/puckered texture- sometimes the light will even literally burn right through your project. It can even burn or damage your mold, as Solarez gets very hot when curing even though it is formulated to not get as hot or combust when using UV light to cure, which is something, I guess.

However, Solarez can be used with an MEKP catalyst, allowing you to dual cure it using sunlight / UV light. This allows Solarez to be used with opaque pigments and can be used for larger projects. The catalyst was not initially included with the resin, but the manufacturer began including it for some reason. The ratio is 6 drops of MEKP mixed into 1 fluid ounce of Solarez. 6:1. With the MEKP catalyst, your project will fully cure in 30 mins (using sunlight or UV light to help it along) but it is prone to becoming overheated, still requiring small layers to be cured one at a time to avoid combustion.

If you're going to try UV resin, I recommend trying any of the brands above, save for Solarez. Grab a 50-120g bottle to try and see if you like it. I recommend beginning making something simple like a pendant or earrings using a clear silicone mold or open back bezel. Mica pigments and most alcohol inks will work with UV resin the same way they work with epoxy and UV resin also creates a super clear glossy finish that may be used to gloss and spruce up cured epoxy projects.

So you took the dive and purchased your UV resin? You've got problems? Yea, tell me about it.

•My Project is Super Tacky! What do?

This is common and will vary from product to product, but usually isn't the product. So before you go flaming the foreign manufacturer who doesn't understand you anyway, ask yourself the following and try these methods to solve the inevitable tacky problem:

How long did you cure? The average cure time shown on the bottle is just that, an average. This doesn't mean that your project will cure in five minutes under your UV lamp. Not all UV lamps are made equal. For starters, check the packaging, but most UV resins require your lamp to be 36w+, so write that off immediately. If your lamp is producing less wattage, than it's not going to cure your UV resin. If you're using a lamp that is 36w+ or your UV resin claims to cure under 36w, then take a look at your lamp itself. Most nail salon UV lamps are either table shaped or dome/cave shaped. If you're using a table shaped lamp on a 3D mold / project, the light is unable to penetrate the sides and back of the mold. This style lamp will only work to cure projects in open back bezels or free hand, flat coatings. If using a dome shaped lamp then the majority of the UV light is found at the back of the lamp. If you have your project at the front or sides, it is unable to be fully penetrated by UV light at all angles.

Try turning your project,curing it for a minimum of 5 minutes on each side. Using finger cots, remove your project and let it cure free form. It shouldn't be so tacky that it sticks to your work area at this point, but if it is, then there is only one solution:

Let it cure in actual sunlight for 10-20 minutes, turning it so that every angle sees light. Typically, your UV lamp doesn't offer the same UV light wavelengths as pure sunlight, and you can buy new lamps or torches to test, but sunlight is free.

If your project is still tacky after all these measures, you've tried adding a new layer of clear resin to it and allowing it to cure in sunlight.

If this doesn't work, think about your Inclusions, your glitter, your pigments etc. If your project is nearly opaque, then you'll need to tone it down if you're going to use UV resin.

If NOTHING else, your product may indeed be a dud or became contaminated in some way. Unfortunately, it's not always easy to get in touch with the manufacturer, but if you order your product from Amazon, they'll more than likely allow you to return it.

My project is all bubbly? What do?

Bubbles are always a problem, whether you're using UV resin or epoxy. Little tiny bubbles always form, especially around the edges of the mold or embedded within details in the design. Don't forget, you have infinite work time with UV resin. This means that you have as long as you want to work out the bubbles.

Use a toothpick to pop tiny bubbles at the bottom of the mold or dislodge them to bring to the surface. Be careful though because you don't want to leave little scratches on your mold or puncture it.

Use a torch to pop bubbles on the surface. A grill lighter, regular lighter, or whatever will do the trick. Make sure you hold the flame a good inch or so away from the surface. It will catch fire and your mold possibly will too. Do so carefully! I run the torch across the top layer every time I add something to the resin to remove any bubbles it gives off. This also works for epoxy.

Blow on it. Some people claim the heat of your breath will pop surface bubbles, but I have had no success with this method.

Warm your resin. Stick your UV resin in a plastic bag or something air tight. Allow some water to heat to near boiling on the stove before pouring it over your resin bottle in a bowl or basin. Do not stick your resin in the microwave or oven or anything crazy.

Stir slowly. Stir inclusions like glitter and pigments slowly, scraping the sides and bottom. This will prevent air bubbles kicking up into your mix and oxygen being introduced into your pour.

Try pigments. For some weird reason (most likely due to changes in viscosity), resin projects with pigments, glitter, and the like have less tendency toward bubbling than clear casts.

Are your bubbles huge? This may be because your pouring super thick layers of resin and all sides have not cured properly. Your layers should only be 1mm thickness maximum when using UV resin.

My project has come out warped, not even, has divots , etc.

If you are curing your layers quickly, your project is heating. When you add more resin over top of this hot resin in a hot mold, this will not only cause more bubbles but also lend to shrinkage. Allow your project to cool to room temp and have some downtime between curing. This will also protect your molds that will become damaged from overuse / overheating and cooling.

With Solarez, this is key to having a beautiful project at the end of the day. Even though it is formulated to not overheat if exposed to sunlight, Solarez will get this orange peel like texture on the surface layer if overexposed.

Yes, there is such thing as overcuring as well, and it will make your project brittle and even flakey, but this is normally not the biggest complaint with UV resin.

So why even buy UV resin?

UV resin has its perks. In a pinch, it makes for a clear, glossy finish that will cure / harden quickly in the sun or with a UV lamp that one would be waiting 24-48 hours for with epoxy. It can be used to repair epoxy projects and fill small divots as well as the ability to bond to pretty much anything makes it useful to have around. It is convenient to use due to the fact that you don't have to mix it, it is easy to pour and compatible with most inclusions. It is also ideal for its extended work time as it will not cure until exposed to UV light. This allows you to create highly detailed clear cast jewelry and other projects you wouldn't be able to assemble and detail before epoxy would begin to cure.

I hope this helps everyone who is having trouble with UV resins or those who have considered using UV resin as an alternative to epoxy. If you have any other questions you would like answered or are someone adept with UV resin that would like to share, please do so! Good luck!

~Samantha

Owner/ Designer/Creator blursedbaubles.etsy.com

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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

There Are No Wolves in the Desert

Part 2 - The Tell Tale Knife

(Oberyn Martell x f!reader)

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Summary: After the death of his paramour Oberyn seeks out a local mercenary known as the Shadow Hunter, but who he finds is more valuable than he could have imagined.

Authors notes: Thank you for all the comments, likes and reblogs! I’ve loved Robb and Oberyn since I read the books like 10 years ago now (yes my parent gave me that book when I was like 13 😂) I’m so happy to finally write down whats been in my head for years! Thank you for letting me share it with you💕💕 as per usual let me know if youd like a tag (or untag)!

Tw: Alcohol, violence, threats of sexual assault, swearing, nudity (implied), mentions of sex.

Word count: 4.5 k

Tagged: @evyiione @ayamenimthiriel @xsadderdazeforeverx @agingerindenial (if i missed anyone please let me know im the worst for tagging!!)

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3 years later

The days passed slowly while you remained tucked away, out of sight from those seeking to do you harm. A generous payment kept you safe in the attic of a local blacksmith, the promise of more ensuring you wouldn't be sold out. Once the imminent threat of assasination was over you focused on staying alive, finding the dragon queen becoming a distant memory, one that would have to wait until a more opportune moment presented itself. You used the last of your funds to purchase a horse and sought out work where you could. For a while you served as a healer to those returning from the fighting pits and other skirmishes occurring between nearby cities, until a Lannister soldier showed up searching for you. After that you moved further out of town finding work at a tavern miles from the city walls catering to a variety of characters travelling from near and far.

The owners were good folk, a retired sculptor, her wife and two young children. You’d stopped in for a drink with plans on heading further south, but an incident changed your course. A man came in threatening the owners demanding a payout when you’d stepped in, the man thought it would be easy, and it was at least for you. You helped them bury the body and they’d asked you to stay and so you did; tending to bar, training the horses and offering protection when needed. In return they offered you a bed, hot meals and a small salary despite your insistence that room and board was more than enough. It was a quiet life, a simple life, but one you enjoyed greatly. The noise of war and murder a ditant cry. Only in your sleep were you reminded of the cruelty of the world. The restful days quickly turned to weeks and it wasn't long until a year had passed, as had the memories of who you were.

The rumour of your murder had spread slowly from king landing, uttered from between the poisonous lips of Cersei Lannister, a lie you prayed one day would come back to haunt her. The day the news reached the ears of your employers you knew it was time to leave, and you rode back through the golden gates of the city. You’d resold the horse to a palace guard whose wife worked with the royal stables, training them, breeding them, caring for them, a good place for a faithful friend to live out its days. Noticing the weapons on your back the guard offered you a fee to find and kill a man who had snuck into the palace and murdered three of his wife's favourite horses after their daughter had refused his hand in marriage. He was dead within the hour, and from there the word of your skill in both tracking and murder got around amougst the nobility, and you fell haphhazourdly into mercenary work. If there was one skill you could rely on, it was your ability to unabashedly kill and you quickly became one of Dornes finest assassins. You fell into the work, the ease at which you became accustomed to it frightened you at first, but you had been hardened by loss, and it wasn't as if you hadn’t killed before.

Any semblance of emotional morality long forgotten, unable, or not wanting to have it all come seeping back, fearful of what may surface as a result. Most of your money went to keeping you fed, well rested and off any enemy radars. After the first month, money became more lucrative and you had splashed out on new armoury and weapons, nothing flashy like some of the more ornate dornish assassins who made a show of their profession. They were harmless, though admittedly annoying and from what you heard, not nearly as impressive as they boasted. Your armour was simple, lightweight leather over loose, breathable cloth, and a dark cloak, Its hood heavy and kept drawn well up over your eyes obscuring your face from prying eyes at all times. A shadow on the wall. Your weapons were similar to your clothes, your short swords and longbow were well crafted and durable, no decoration but for a few carved vines wrapped around their ends. Your only remaining identifiers were your eyes, and the dagger belonging to your late husband which stayed with you at all times, always within reach. Any remaining money was hidden away about the city, a retirement fund if you will, assuming you lived that long.

There were bonuses beside finances in your line of work, your ability to disappear into a crowd kept you in touch with the rumour mill. Words and secrets would fall from drunken mouths carelessly. Most of it stank worse than the horse's field after rain, but there were some that rang true, and a few that even brought a rare smile to your face. A young woman had spoken loudly about Tywin Lannister's death and how he’d supposedly died on the privy, causing you to snort into your soup, a fitting end for a coward of a man.

A month later you heard that the prince of Dorne had gone to King's Landing to fight for Tyrion, where he supposedly defeated a man standing well over 12 feet tall. A tall tale of a tall man you think, knowing how royal always sought to increase the truth of their abilities. You had also heard the unfortunate news of Ellaria Sands poisoning , the venom not reaching her veins until the ship had sailed out, no remedy to be found on the vaste seascape. It was a shame, she and the Sand Snakes were skilled adversaries here and they had since scattered in search of answers and allies around the seven kingdoms, to help avenge their mother. The prince apparently had to be restrained to stop him from turning the ship around, that was a story you found more believable. From what you’d heard the prince may have many lovers but he would go to war for any of them. You’d never seen his face, except for on the back of coins or from a distance. If you had you may have noticed him enter into the tavern where you sat awaiting your payment from your most recent client.

Your eyes stay on the table, your hood pulled up well over your forehead giving you a frightening silhouette beneath the candlelight that was beginning to glow more prominently as the sun set. The young man who commissioned you entered, he stank of wine and privilege, but he was rich and the payment promised was well worth putting up with his unsavoury personality. His true odor protrudes through the thin veil of perfume attempting to mask his stench, alerting you to his presence well before he’d sat down. Your time alone had heightened your tracking skills, a side effect of living under the constant threat of being hunted. The wiry man sits down next to you, his thin fingers snapping under your eyes in an attempt to get your attention, you inhale deeply, drawing yourself back to your displeasing reality and forced social interactions.

“Where's the money?” you ask, knife whittling a notch out of the table's leg with Robbs dagger.

“Where the head?” he retorts, and you pull out a small sack, shoving it into his hand watching as he pulls at the drawstring, opening the velvet bag. He raises his eyebrows and pulls out the index finger you'd removed from the corpse.

“Head was…. indisposed. I hope this satisfies,” you murmur, this job had been messier than you intended. You typically weren't so reckless especially with a noble.

“ Very much so, ” he says taking it and turning it in his hands

“The money then,” you restate, tone flat.

“Well there's one more... proposition I had.” He states, hand resting down on your thigh.

“I'll take the money for this job then you can hand me the next target,” you respond, sighing heavily, used to people getting handsy with you.

“You can make extra on this job if you play your cards right,” he whispers, hand running up your thigh. The other reaches up to pull back on your hood within seconds your dagger had impaled his hand, pining it to the table. His wail of anguish causes the heads in the tavern to turn briefly towards the scene before returning to their lively chatter.

“You stupid bitch,” he spits making a grab for the knife but you reach forward pushing it further into the table leaning in towards him.

“The money, or I cut off your head and mount it on the wall of this tavern,” you say, louder than intended.

Oberyn watches from the bar in amusement , the last time he’d seen fire like that had come from Ellaria. He needed someone to help get his revenge, someone willing to murder a man in front of witnesses, his birds had been right, this mercenary was the one for the job.

You rip the knife from the man's hand as he throws you the coinpurse you were owed you reach for it as he stands.

“Bitch,” he spits, liquid hitting the side of your face as he pulls down your hood “you better watch you back mercenary, I'll be taking you from behind in no time.” He snarls, as you hurry to pull your cover back up.

“Clever,” you retort, wiping your face, shaking out the purse and counting your pay out. Empty threats. Or threats you didn’t care about, you could kill scum like that in your sleep, and you had. You mutter another curse under your breath at being exposed, the latest delay in dye shipments had allowed the roots of your white hair to protrude through, lucky everyone inside was too drunk to notice. The money from the job was enough to keep a roof over your head for the foreseeable future, maybe even enough for a bath, it was getting to be that time. You go to stand, you had an ‘appointment’ in town, one with a handsome payout. Before you can stand you see a pair of hands adorned in jewellery slip into your view a scent of sweet fruit and honey indicating a cleanliness and a high status, a very high status, your appointment could wait.

Obery was observant, his eyes had been glued to you even while conversing with the beautiful patrons of the bar, not wanting to lose you in the crowd. “The shadow tracker”. That’s what you had been dubbed by those residing in the city according to his sources, clients of yours pleased with your services, services he was in need of. It seems you may bear more than one secret identity, it may have been for the briefest second, but the colour of your hair stood out against the dark fabric you wore. It intrigued him, white hair was uncommon in those of your age, very rare. In fact he only knew of one person still alive with such a trait. The other, one whom he’d sent a wedding gift to years prior, was long dead, or so the Lannister would have him believe, and when has he ever trusted the word of child murderers. He may have come here in seek of a mercenary, but what he found may prove to be even more valuable to his cause.

“Payments 50 for a nobody, rate goes up with each class, royals are above my paygrade, and nobles will cost you at least 6 of those fancy rings on your fingers,” you list, taking note of the martell sigil embellished on one of the larger rings.

“How much would it be to convince a wolf to take down a Lion,” he queries, hunching his head down to try and catch a glimpse of the eyes under the hood. Your heart drops.

“Above the pay grade, couple down at the docks have a death wish, you might try your luck there,” you explain, deepening your voice slightly in an attempt to disguise yourself.

“And what would be your wish, if you could have it?” he queries, leaning back kicking his feet up onto the stool beside you. As he does the yellow of his robes come into your peripheral the suns intricately stitched on, shining against the murk of the tavern's tile floor.

“To be left alone,” you chide, this was someone well acquainted with the royals here, you didn't deal with royalty, more trouble than they're worth.

“What's that old saying? The lone wolf dies, or am I mistaken? ” he returns, chuckling slightly.

“I don’t know who you think I am but I assure you…” you say, eyes finally raising, only then realizing the prince of Dorne sat before you, at least based on his impression on one of the coins in your hand.

“Lady Stark, I was hoping we’d meet face to face,” he remarks, the long forgotten address catching you off guard causing your eyes to shoot back down.

“Lady Stark died, the Lannisters ground up her body and fed it to the king's direwolf before killing it, haven’t you heard?” you say sarcastically, pulling your knife out of the table, unsure if he’d recognized it.

“Propaganda, set to diminish the power of the north,” he says, watching the blade intently as it's pulled from the table.

“I do not know if Lady Stark is alive, but for a price I could find out, granted you tell me what you need her for,” you mutter.

“I did not come here in search of Lady Stark. I came seeking a mercenary, the so-called “shadow tracker” however, this is a most welcome surprise, as for why I need you, or her, the answer is revenge plain and simple.”

“Is that what they call me?” you remark “ So you seek out a mercenary only to find something better, something you can trade?” you pose shaking your head.

“No, I needed an assassin, but found something better. Something more lethal.” He pauses.

“Which is?” you prompt, hoping to end this conversation sooner rather than later.

“One they think is dead. Besides I figured Lady Stark would want the opportunity to take down the Lannisters.”

“I assume she would, though she may think the offer stands too good to be true,” you state, gathering up your payment and making your exit he follows suit, stopping briefly to gently nudge his hand under the chin of an attractive man standing near the door, no doubt planning on returning later.

“The desert is no place for a wolf,” he calls after you, a significant distance between the two of you now.

“I shall let you know if I see such a sight, my prince,” you shout, dramatically curtsying before turning on your heel and walking off. He smiles before re-entering the tavern.

A week later

You stroll through the dark alleys of the city, a few years ago you wouldn’t have dared ventured out so late. The woods were known to you, their dangers and sights predictable, but the city was uncharted territory. While a bear could be trusted to do as bears do, the movements of man were less predictable. Your work kept you attune to the veins of the city and the people that coursed through them. You knew where to go and where to avoid depending on the day. You knew the sounds, able to pick out when something was amiss and tonight something was. The usual scurry of the rats below or the call of the parrots from above were absent, someone had been through here and not long ago. Your hand dips into the folds of your cape and you throw your dagger catching a man in the neck. You lean over and remove it from his jugular, the blood flowing out from the wound. Before you can turn him over, something hits you knocking you forward onto your stomach. You’re lifted from the ground by the nape of your neck. Your hoods pulled down and your head pulled up to see the foul smelling client and two other assassins standing before you.

“Dirron, Brant, always a pleasure” you snarl

“No hard feelings Shadow, you’re taking out all the business” Brant responds.

“How much is he paying you? Not enough I bet he didn't pay me enough. I'll double it if you let me walk.” you plead, but they shake their heads.

“I paid you more than your worth,” he spits, gesturing to the man behind you and he lifts you up slamming you into a nearby wall pressing your face against the rough brick. You can taste the blood beginning to gather in your mouth. He releases you, handing you over to the unpleasant smelling man who brings the dagger you’d dropped into your view, pressing the steel against your cheek as he begins to speak.

“This dagger belonged to Robb Stark.”

“Did it? I stole it from a client months ago,” you say, elbowing him in the stomach causing him to drop the blade. You catch it, and drive it deep into his knee. He falls, and you unsheathe his sword and throw it catching Dirron in the chest. The large brute gets to you before your next move knocking you in the stomach and pinning you back up against the wall.

“Told you I'd have you from behind,” the client says, limping over to you and spitting on the side of your face. As the moisture hits your flesh a spear pierces through his chest , pinning him to a nearby crate as the remaining two men scatter. You push yourself up spinning to see the prince standing in the alley picking up your dagger.

“Of all the souvenirs to keep, this…” he starts, examining the blade before continuing “ is the most telling. Even with your distinct traits, the Young Wolf's knife is well known, especially by those who saw it made. Dornish steel,” he explains tossing it in the air catching it by the blade and handing it back to you by its handle.

“As I just finished explaining to your dear friend there, I stole that,” you lie, taking it from him.

“No you didn’t,” he says, eyes bright even in the dark, a familiar smirk on his lips, clearly bemused by your attempts at lying.

“Yes I did,” you retort, refusing to let up on your façade.

“Shall we debate it over a drink?” he asks, retrieving his spear from the client's body which falls to the ground with an unpleasant thunk.

“A prince slumming it with the poor?” you ask watching as he uses the dead man's silks to wipe his weapon before turning back to you.

“My enjoyment of life precludes class,” he says offering you his arm

“As you speak from your riches,” you point out, watching him run his tongue along his upper lip.

“We are not as antiquated in our ideologies here, class here is less pronounced” he assures you.

“Is it?” you argue, pushing down on his extended arm and he shrugs his shoulder in defeat, pride faltering only for a fragment of a second at the notion of being rejected. The streets are busy tonight, the warm weather bringing the people out en masse to enjoy the city's nightlife. He brings his hand up to usher you into a nearby tavern by the small of your back, but thinks twice and drops it, not wanting to lose it. As you enter he raises his hand and winks at the barkeep before following you towards the back near the window sill.

“What will it cost you?” you inquire as he sits down, watching over his shoulder as the person behind the bar pours out a decanter of wine.

“What?” he asks, the downturn of his mouth and creased forehead painting a picture of confusion.

“To let me leave here, to keep this a secret, the two men who escaped know who I am now. My time here is up.” you confess as the decanter is placed on the table the bartenders hands trailing across his shoulders causing him to smile fondly up at them.

“I do not wish you to be found. It would ruin the plans I have,” he says, slowly turning his attention back to you, offering you wine. You stare at the decanter, then to him before shaking your head causing him to chuckle

“What? Have I said something amusing? “ you question, almost annoyed.

“Untrusting,” he remarks, taking a sip of the liquid before offering it to you once again. You reach over the table grabbing the cup from his hand.

“I am untrusting because in my experience people cannot be trusted,” you explain taking a sip.

“You husband certainly lied about marrying the Frey girl,” he remarks, leaning back into his seat, arms spreading out across the chairs back.

“I’ve never been married,” you state, wanting nothing more than to punch the smug look off his face.”

“You're good,” he says, eyes giving you the once over.

“At what?”

“Lying, well perhaps not good per say but committed, i'll give you that, you fight in a similar manner.” he presses, hoping to get a rise out of you.

“So, you think I can’t fight,” you say, shaking your head with a laugh

“Your words,” he states.

“I did not come here to be insulted by the likes of you, prince or not,” you scold, sitting up.

“I didn't mean to offend,” he remarks, eyes watching your movements, evidently he’d touched a nerve.

“Didn’t you?” you query, tilting your head.

“No, truly it was not my intention, I merely believe upon improvement,” he explains.

“Hard to improve without practice, hard to practice on your own,” you state, moving to leave, the prince drawing too much attention than you wanted on you. You down the rest of your wine and utter a ‘thank you for the drink’ before bidding him a farewell and exiting the bar. You don't make it far, seemingly unable to shake him.

“Why are you here?” he asks.

“That’s privileged information,” you say, turning to face him walking backwards along the cobbled streets. His eyes fall to you before looking up to the heavens, the stars were bright tonight illuminating his features. The rumours of him held true in one area undoubtedly, he was handsome.

“Come back to the palace with me.” He says, eyes still gazing up at the sky.

“I have no intention of divulging in your pleasure my prince, my heart belongs to another, I swore I wouldn’t stray from him even in death,” you reply, turning back to walk forward spitting blood out onto the street, sure one of your teeth must have been knocked out in the earlier fight.

“While I disagree with more than one of those statements I did not mean to imply, though I would be remiss to say it wouldn’t be of great honour. I heard the Young Wolf betrayed an entire kingdom for you.” he says eyes once again on you, trying to catch a glimpse of your features obscured by the hood.

“Are you suggesting I got my husband killed?” you muse, hearing him tut in disagreement

“You’re dirty, you’re tired, you’re injured and at risk of murder, the palace offers you a safe place to recuperate.”

“And what do you expect in return?” you ask.

“I simply wish to offer you a proposition once you are rested, if you decline, you are free to leave. I will ensure you are transported to a safe location where no one knows you.”

Perhaps it was the itching of your skin, or the way the dye was clinging your out of control hair or maybe it was being allowed to be who you once were, but you agree.

“This is Shana she will help you, unless you prefer a male companion, though I would gladly offer my services” he says, gesturing to an older woman of great beauty.

“I can bath myself, thank you though,” you say, turning and nodding to the woman who bows her head and exits the bathhouse.

“Whatever you wish, I'll have her bring you clothes while we clean yours... if we can clean yours” he muses, the remark cracking a smile in your icy demeanour. He leaves and you undress placing your clothes outside the door as requested. Your bare feet feel refreshed against the cool orange tiles of the bath house, the area evidently meant for the use of many people. Multicoloured tulip petals float atop the water filling your nostril with an aroma unlike one you’d ever known. The steam from the water rises in the cool air of the night and you dip your toe in water proceeding to the steps.

You stride into the water allowing your lower half to adjust to the heat before fully sinking in to cover your shoulder. Immediately the dye in your hair begins to leak into the water blending together with the built up mud and blood that has been stuck to you since your last clean. You scrub your skin until the scars scattered across your body are once again visible in the moonlight. Your hand pauses over the wound above your shoulder, memories of Robb flooding back in, as you assume your true identity for the first time in years.

You dunk your head under the water, scrubbing to remove grime from your face and to work out the last of the dye until it's all gone, your hair returned to its original state. You stay in the water for a while enjoying the heat, but sitting in your own filth is no longer a luxury and you stand up and dry yourself off. Pulling on a robe hung up for you as if they knew you’d be there that night. The cool air hits you as you exit, a welcome relief compared to the heavy heat carried around while wearing your armour. One of the palace guards leads you to your bed chamber, the bed is large and the room even larger. Tiles from floor to ceiling apart from the windows which opened up to the balcony allowing the breeze in at night. You step out onto it, hand trailing through the flowers growing along the bannisters. You thank the guard and he closes the large wooden doors leaving you to change into an orange gown true to the style in Dorne. The thin material leaves little to the imagination, but it would prove good for sleeping though not much else. You turn your head to the room's table where clothes better suited for your line of work sit. Your weapons had been cleaned and lined up across the corner of the room, your dagger shined and stabbed into the wood, holding a note in place.

“Dramatic,” you chuckle, pulling out the knife retrieving the note and opening it ‘winter is coming’ you recognize the handwriting immediately, it had been years but you'd never forgotten the letter you'd received the day at the docks. Perhaps the prince could be trusted after all. You hesitate before folding the note up and placing it back down on the table, walking over to the large bed and falling asleep with the knife tucked securely under your pillow, just in case.

#oberyn martell x you #prince oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x reader #prince oberyn #oberyn x you #oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x y/n #game of thrones fanfiction #There Are No Wolves in the Desert #part 2 #pedro pascal characters

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novasintheroom · 4 years

Note

Hey its ray-jaykub! I saw that you did requests and i was wondering if i could get head-cannons on the turtles and what they like to do with their respective s/os

OMG I love you!!! Okay I gotta calm down hooo

Leo

· Love love loves to carry you over rooftops and sit on high points to look over the city with you. This is one of his ways to calm down and think about things without his brothers’ around to stress him out, and having you there some nights, looking at the glitter of the lights – poetry for his heart

· Speaking of poetry – you guys will have contests for who can make the worst poems. Just something to pass off to each other between visits, something you find in your bag or in his bed sheets. Cheesy, unrhythmic, stupid, whatever. You guys have cried laughing before b/c of this. However, every once in a while he’ll slap you with a real intimate and loving poem that just makes you melt.

· You’ve started trying to sneak up on him. It doesn’t work. He still lets you do it, just so he can turn around and grab you at the last second. Sometimes he throws you on the nearest soft surface, sometimes he gives you a big kiss, sometimes he just starts carrying you around like a sack of potatoes – depends on his mood honestly. Your determination to spook him is cute.

· Watching or listening to True Crime stuff becomes a quick couple’s hobby for you guys. Usually it’s playing in the background as you each do chores or work on some project, but you’ll each talk about the case throughout. You’ve hit him more than once for giving away what happened or who killed who. He’s too good at figuring this kind of stuff out!

· He loves when you sit with him when he meditates. Even if you aren’t the meditating type, if you just sit quietly by him or read, he already feels much calmer. If he’s practicing balancing moves, he’ll sometimes grab you to hoist you up in the air, “to practice strength” at the same time. You’ve learned it’s a very bad idea to squirm when he’s got you planking above his head; he will start tickling you if you don’t keep still.

Raph

· Once he gets a good enough disguise, he loves to ride around on his newly built motorcycle with you on the city streets. It’s fun to zip through cars and people and drive out to the sparser points of the city to watch ships come in and out of the bay or go to a park outside the city to watch the lights as they all turn on at dusk.

· Loooovvess having movie nights with you. Seriously asks for it every week. You two get comfy on the couch with like 3 blankets thrown over your laps and watch something like Jurassic Park or Mad Max and gorge on buttery popcorn and chocolate. Sometimes you’ll slip in a chick flick like Pride and Prejudice. He acts like he doesn’t like it, but you’ve caught a goofy, happy smile on him more than once at the end of the movie, and then he starts lifting your hand like Mr. Darcy and adopting more “romantic” actions and it’s just *chef’s kiss*

· You guys will spar together. It’s kinda required once you date him; he wants you to be able to kick butt if he can’t get to you fast enough. But these sessions usually end up with you and him wrestling/tickling each other and him holding you down with a foot while he lifts weights. Get comfy princess, he ain’t moving that foot ‘til he get 100 reps.

· He has a really good eye for fashion and makeup. He’s actually the one that sews together all of his family’s clothes, as much as possible with the scraps they find around. It’s calming to make something instead of the stigma he has of destroying stuff. He’s the first person you SnapChat with an outfit just to make sure it looks good, and he sends back honest feedback, like “why do you still have that scarf, you know it doesn’t match anything in your closet,” or “try the red sweater with that long gold necklace you have.” Everyone compliments your outfits so much because of his input

· Likes to go swimming with you. There’s a few clear, clean pools in the sewers (Donnie approved) where you guys go just to have a good swim. There’s usually some candles lit and music playing. More often than not, you’ll end up laying on his chest while he floats on the surface and just enjoy each other’s company. At least until he gets the idea to dunk you.

Donnie

· Sneaking into the rafters of Broadway is a regular event for you guys. He manages to disable any security they have up around your “spot,” and you get a free show with your favorite person. He’ll be quoting his favorite lines for days after, all the while talking about the next show to see. He’d so be a theater kid if he had the chance.

· One of the main things that got you guys together in the first place was you helping him put together tech he’s working on. It still continues now, since you have a steady hand and a willing ear to listen to his theories and ideas. You’ve even inspired him a few times with your comments! It’s a casual bonding activity for you both, and he values your thoughts.

· Spontaneous dances are a must. Sometimes he’ll grab you and dance around the room – especially if an experiment of his goes well – sometimes it’ll be goofy dances to see how badly you two can embarrass anyone looking, and other times, you guys will just slow dance before you leave, just as a way to be close before having to part.

· You guys form your own little potted plant collection in the lair. It’s both a hobby, and a way for you to check on how he’s doing. If he’s doing well, the plants are watered and taken care of. If he’s getting sucked into things and forgetting to care for himself, the plants suffer. He tries to get an auto-watering system for them, but you shut that down quick. It’s good to do some things yourself rather than rely on technology!

· Cupcake Saturdays are a thing. He’ll take you to a bakery, where you’ll go in and get a box of cupcakes (extra frosting). You guys will then just chow down on them on the rooftop, often with him licking a lot of the frosting off the cupcakes before eating the actual “cake” part.

Mikey

· Such a fan of trying every new restaurant you can find in NYC. It’s become a date-night tradition every Thursday to either order or pick up some hole-in-the-wall place’s food, meet up somewhere, and Gordon Ramsay the crap out of the food. He does a mean Ramsay impression, and you’ve snorted more than one ramen noodle out of your nose from laughing so hard.

· If you aren’t a fan of video games, you will be once you date this guy. It’s not even just watching or playing video games with him, he’s just funny when he plays! He’ll make the most stupid comments about something going on in the storyline, or mess around, even glitch out a game. He’s managed to get out of the maps of Among Us more than once. You’re convinced if he started his own YouTube gaming channel, he’d be a quick star.

· Game nights are a must for you guys. It usually turns into a family game night with you, the turtles, Splinter, April and Casey, which Mikey just adores because he gets to see everyone he loves having fun. You two will usually team up against the others, or turn on each other to stab the other in the back. Uno and Cover Your Assets have made you guys question your loyalty to each other more than once. That Uno Reverse card, man…

· Arts and crafts are his favorite. Anytime a holiday is coming up, Mikey gets hyped ‘cause he knows you guys are gonna start making decorations for it. You guys will usually make decorations for each other. Mikey loves this, just because he feels like a normal person by having actual Halloween decorations around the lair instead of stuff he and his bros scraped together off the streets.

· Loves to stargaze with you in the summer time. He’ll convince Donnie to let him drive the truck out of the city to the countryside of New York, bring you with him, and set up on the roof of the truck in the middle of a field (that he totally didn’t crash through a wood fence to get to). Fireflies will fly over your faces, and he’ll joke that they’re shooting stars and make a thousand and one wishes on each of them. He won’t tell you that all of those wishes are for you and him to be together forever, but it’s not hard to guess with how mushy he gets after each one.

#ray-jaykub #supershiny-raven #answer #tmnt #tmnt x reader #request #headcanons #tmnt headcanons #leo x reader #raph x reader #donnie x reader #mikey x reader #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #donatello x reader #michelangelo x reader #reader insert #my writing

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monstersdownthepath · 4 years

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Spiritual Spotlight: Zyphus, the Grim Harvestman

Neutral Evil God of Accidental Deaths, Graveyards, and Tragedies

Domains: Death, Destruction, Evil, Plant, War Subdomains: Blood, Catastrophe, Daemon, Decay, Murder, Thorns, Undead

Inner Sea Faiths, pg. 88~93

Obedience: Spend an hour sitting on the grave of someone who suffered an accidental death. You must reflect on how chance has wronged you and vocally reject the influence of any gods associated with these wrongs. If no suitable grave exists, spend an hour telling strangers how their religious beliefs and hopes for a just afterlife are folly and of no consequence. Alternatively, you can write this screed and post it in a public place within a settlement. If you’re away from civilization, you can instead spend an hour sabotaging a path, bridge, tool, or other device so that it’s dangerous for the next person who uses it. Benefit: You gain a +4 profane bonus on Craft (traps) or Disable Device checks, chosen when you complete the obedience.

i’m glad the grim harvestman covers his basis but also jesus

Anyway, Zyphus is one of the most petty and spiteful of the gods, and this is no better shown than in this Obedience. A typical adventurer wandering the countryside must actively make the world a worse place for everyone else involved, and the clause “next person who uses it” means that you have to either toss aside your party’s good will, or take up the dreaded spot at the back of the marching order. Should you find yourself in a public area, you become just as much of an obnoxious git as a follower of Groetus, except this time you’re personally spitting on their beliefs... However, if you wish to be significantly more tolerated by society, you should do as Zyphus encourages his followers to do and disguise yourself as a Pharasmin or the faithful of another god of order and afterlives and very carefully disguise your blasphemy as “misguided” teachings. At worst, you can feign ignorance and/or explain that you’re new to the faith and had no idea that what you’re saying is wrong. You can even blame other Zyphans for muddying your understanding of the truth, an act I’m sure the Harvestman finds extra ironic!

Telling someone that their practices don’t matter because Pharasma has already decided your fate is the easiest way to go, and the best part is it’s not even inaccurate! NPCs don’t have the spiritual freedom PCs do, so their path is already nearly impossible to change! Get pranked, idiots! Masquerading as one of Pharasma’s flock comes in especially handy when performing the first and ‘easiest’ ritual, as well, because tending to graves is something the Lady of Graves wants people to do in the first place. Make sure to be careful with how you word your vocal casting away of the god’s will, however, or you may arouse more suspicion than you soothe.

The benefit is subpar. Crafting traps is alright, but you’ve likely got better things to use your gold on--wait, there’s no restriction on the CR of traps you can craft, so long as you can beat the DC and have the gold? Well. Go crazy, go stupid, I guess! Here’s a list of everything you can make! The most cost-efficient and useful, however, is the CR 1 bear trap, which--make no mistake--will absolutely shred lower level encounters, but will lose a lot of its spark later on. At least it costs basically nothing to make! Traps are usually the domain of the DMs, but if you need to hold an area? They can come in very, very handy. Otherwise, you’re just leaving them behind you on lonely roads in the hopes some fool will step on them.

Disable Device is normally the way you want to go, shutting off traps that could be a potentially lethal danger for most of the party at most levels. And, of course, rearming them so some fool behind you can stumble into them later. Even if your adventure doesn’t contain many traps, you should never underestimate the strength there is in doing something as simple as popping a lock.

Boons are acquired slowly: the first once you reach 12 hit dice, the second at 16, and the third at 20. However, the Evangelist, Exalted, and Sentinel Prestige Classes can be entered as early as level 5; doing so grants you the Boons at levels 8, 11, and 14 instead. As Zyphus is a true deity and does not require Fiendish Obedience, you earn the right to enter the classes earlier than those who serve fiends!

-------- EVANGELIST --------

Boon 1: Champion of Cruel Chance. Gain Deathwatch 3/day, False Life 2/day, or Healing Thief 1/day.

Decent all around! And by “decent” I mean “they have niche uses, but shine in those uses.” Healing Thief is the most interesting one, establishing a link between you and a creature you touch that causes the victim to heal only half as much from magical or supernatural means, with you gaining the other half. Creatures who gain Fast Healing or Regeneration through supernatural circumstances can become a boon to you, while enemies relying on Channeled positive energy or in-combat healing will find themselves struggling. The best part is that it doesn’t even offer a saving throw!

Of course, it’s still a touch attack, and you have to remain within an extremely tight radius around the enemy (25ft + 5ft/level) to maintain the siphon. This is a little riskier than I’d like, not to mention it’s completely useless if your foe doesn’t use any in-combat healing. Also, at only 1/day, I’d probably settle for the significantly more boring False Life for a nice 1d10+8 (up to +10) temp HP that lasts for a million years. It’s not much, but you can use it twice and it might stop some scratch damage, and every point between you and 0 HP is nice.

Deathwatch lets you instantly know if you’re looking at an Undead or disguised Construct, which is its primary function in my book. With a duration of 10 min/level, it’s likely to last for entire dungeon floors and makes you an expert at calling out foes who’re on their last legs but otherwise looking healthy. It’s a decent spell if you’re unsure of what you’re going up against or want to be the pointman for your team, but otherwise False Life is the typical go-to.

Boon 2: Resiliency. 1/day, you can gain a number of temporary hit points equal to your Hit Dice, lasting for 1 minute. Activating this ability is an immediate action that can be performed only when you would be brought below 0 hit points, and can be used to prevent you from dying. If you have the Resiliency ability from another source, you can activate these abilities separately or as part of the same immediate action.

As far as I can tell, there is exactly one source for the Resiliency ability as it’s written here, and that’s a single Rogue Talent. It’s... eeeeeegh, not so good. It lets you stall death’s timer for a single minute, usually long enough to end the battle (or be ended) and get some real healing. It will likely save your life at least once in a campaign, but the goal here is to avoid being brought to 0 in the first place! Especially since this will, if obtained ASAP, only shield you for 11 HP, which is one--maybe two--attacks from a creature with a similar CR and basically nothing against spells being flung around at that level. This Boon is actually worse in many ways than just giving +1 HP per HD you have, especially since you technically already have access to the same amount of temp HP in False Life.

I suppose the most amusing use of this power is to fake being down and out until your foe turns away, but that carries risks of its own. If you’re brought to -20 or something and the temp HP only takes you to -5, you’re still knocked out but at least have some mercy time before you start dying for real. I’d advocate for combining this with Diehard if you want to get the most out of it, because otherwise this is an extremely subpar “Life Insurance” Boon that will really only impress the group maybe once or twice in a campaign and be boring or underwhelming in all other moments.

I’d want it to be at least 2 or even 3/day.

Boon 3: Tragic Minion. By spending 1 minute praying over the corpse of a Humanoid opponent or a Humanoid who has died a tragic death, you can summon an Allip to serve you. Unlike a normal Allip, this Allip is of an alignment that matches yours, and has a number of hit points equal to half your total. It receives a +4 bonus on Will saves to halve the damage from channeled positive energy, and it can’t be turned or commanded. This Allip serves as a companion to you and can communicate intelligibly with you despite its madness. You can dismiss it as a standard action. If the Allip is destroyed or dismissed, you can’t summon another for 7 days. This ability allows you to have only one Allip companion at a time.

Oh, that’s cute! You get a little insane friend! Unfortunately, as you can see here, it’s about 10 levels too late to actually be useful. At the level you can finally summon one, your Allips are extremely fragile, as even with their boosted HP they’re still only protected by an AC of 14 and no outstanding resistances aside from their incorporeality. Enemies with magic weapons are almost a certainty by level 14, and even enemies without magic weapons will rarely ever fail their save against the Allip’s Touch of Madness, whose save DC doesn’t scale past 15. You’d be relying wholly on it scoring critical hits, which make the Wisdom damage and drain irresistible, but that’s obviously not viable.

Really, all parts of Tragic Minion are ironically accurate. The Allip can’t even really serve as a scout, because they constantly Babble to themselves in a way that hypnotizes everyone within 60ft of them. Even with their +8 Stealth, a bunch of mooks suddenly stopping and standing still will alert enemies who can succeed the DC 15 Will save that something strange is going on. Adding in that Allips have no ability to hide or disguise themselves, just walking around with one is enough to turn heads. And don’t even think about just dismissing it and summoning another one, or using it in combat with any level-appropriate foe, or this is a blank Boon for an entire week!

Seriously, the 7 day ban on summoning another one is a serious kick in the teeth when the “only one at a time” limit was restrictive enough. You’d think Zyphus would be happy to grant his most powerful Evangelists more than one CR 3 minion at a time, but no! If you lose this extremely fragile minion, no more for 7 days! That’ll teach you to take good care of your toys! And that’s more or less the Allip is; a toy. An accessory.

-------- EXALTED --------

Boon 1: Catalyst of Destruction. Gain Break 3/day, Find Traps 2/day, or Spiked Pit 1/day.

Well I certainly hope there’s traps, given who you’re working for! But it’s good to have insurance that they’re not aimed at you. Find Traps lasts a decent time (1 min/level) and grants a monstrous Perception bonus to spotting them, automatically triggering a Perception check if you draw too close to a trap as well which--depending on how you interpret the spell--alerts you to the fact one is nearby even if you don’t see it. Then you can use Zyphus’ granted +4 to Disable Device to knock it out!

Break can have its uses, shattering enemy equipment even as they wield it. Just remember that targeting an attended object allows the wielder to make a saving throw in its place, while an unattended object gets no saving throw (provided it’s nonmagical). And since Break targets Fortitude, it’s not likely to affect the targets you’d really need it to (Fighters in heavy armor and Barbarians with big weapons), but if your teammates can knock their weapons from their hands, they’re free game. However, the use of Break in combat doesn’t nearly compare to what it can do out of combat; weakening doorways, crumbling containers, sabotaging enemy equipment they’d otherwise grab later, and cracking open items made of skymetal. Note that a second casting of Break outright destroys an item that’s already broken, and you have three each day! Personally, I’d save it for the times you need to sabotage something or bypass a small obstacle, rather than risk a high-Fort-save enemy succeeding in combat and wasting your turn.

And I’ve spoken about Spiked Pit before, here and here, but to reiterate: it’s a pseudo Save-or-Suck that seriously waste the time of anything without a decent Strength score or some Climb skill as they crawl back out of the pit, while you and your allies either deal with other foes, or rain destruction down on them from above. Even if the victim makes their initial save, the pit doesn’t go anywhere, letting you push your targets in one at a time if need be. Since it’s literally just a huge hole in the ground, you can even hurl multiple enemies inside! AND it’s filled with damaging spikes! The spikes don’t do much, but every little bit helps.

Boon 2: Ever Vigilant. You are protected by a constant Death Ward, The immunity to energy drain ends after the effect has prevented a number of negative levels equal to your Hit Dice*, which resets when you next perform your Obedience. In addition, you gain a +2 profane bonus on saving throws against effects that occur before your first turn in combat.

*it says “Exalted level” but that would mean that this could have zero effect if you don’t class into it, so it’s been changed to prevent it from being a dead Boon.

Huh, this is pretty g--wait. Hold on, let me read this a little closer

“The subject gains a +4 morale bonus on saves against all death spells and magical death effects. The subject is granted a save to negate such effects even if one is not normally allowed. The subject is immune to energy drain and any negative energy effects, including channeled negative energy.“

and what did Ever Vigilant say? “The immunity to energy drain ends--”? But that implies that the rest of Death Ward stays up, right? ... right :)

A lot of Boons grant you an everlasting spell effect for your trouble, but none of them are quite as potent as this one. Death Ward UTTERLY stops negative energy effects, crushing the entire school of Necromancy underfoot, crippling the offensive power of most forms of Undead, and ironically making the devotees of the God of Tragic Death some of the hardest sons of guns to actually tragically kill. Even if an incoming death effect offered no save (such as Power Word Kill), Death Ward forces one, and because you’re Ever Vigilant you don’t even have to know you’re going to face one to begin with!

Also, a universal +2 bonus to saves when out of combat, and for the first round in combat! A nice and cute addition, making it slightly harder for enemy casters or monsters relying on their powers to get the jump on you. Ever Vigilant makes you one of the best Undead hunters out there... Which is why it’s--ironically--tragic that Zyphus, an Evil god, gives it out. In an Evil vs Good campaign, you’re not likely to actually be combating enemies who use negative energy, death effects, or anything else Death Ward protects against. The real sauce in this ability comes from an Evil vs Evil campaign, or a campaign in which you’re pretending to be Good, or at least Neutral! Just... make sure it ends before level 14, because...

Boon 3: Visitor From Abaddon. 1/day as a standard action, you can summon a pair of Greater Ceustodaemons as if with Summon Monster II, and gain telepathy with them to a range of 100 feet. The Ceustodaemons follow your commands perfectly for 1 round per Hit Die you possess before vanishing back to their home on Abaddon. The Ceustodaemons don’t follow commands that would cause them to perform overly good acts or save mortal lives other than your own, and they immediately vanish if your orders contradict these restrictions.

...it’s going to be very difficult why a Pharasmin can summon two daemonic gorilla-men who breathe electricity. Ceustodaemons are bred to be the dumb muscle of Abaddon, but they’re still capable warriors in their own right with decently damaging claws (2d6+6) and a bite (1d6+6) and the ability to exhale 6d6 points worth of Electricity damage in a 30ft cone. There’s also their spell-likes, an at-will Dimension Door letting them infiltrate and scout for you, a 3/day Fly to make your party a nightmare to fight, and a 3/day Dispel Magic to crack enemy magic open.

However, they’re only CR 7, unlikely to stand up on their own against level-appropriate threats. So, the key here? Don’t use them against level-appropriate threats, as is normal with summons dramatically weaker than you are. They’re terrors that shine brightest against enemies hovering around the CR 10 or so range, their resilience and immunity against--and I’m not exaggerating--nearly every status effect in the game except petrification and their DR 10/Good or Silver letting them slug it out with mid-level foes and rip apart nearly anything else lower than that.

There’s also the fact that they can be summoned as a standard action with a range of Close, letting you teleport your gorilla fiends right at the enemy’s vulnerable backline or in front of their melee bruisers to tie them up while the rest of your team flanks. The standard action summoning is the biggest treat here, because being able to have two more beefy bodies available immediately shifts any battle in your favor... But know that if your campaign keeps going past level 14, your gorilla men are going to have a harder and harder time standing up to level-appropriate enemies, and it’ll eventually cause them to be summoned to fight against minibosses only or--eugh--being sent on scouting missions. They’re good at them, mind, but you know how it is.

At their absolute worst, though, they’re still six castings of both Fly and Dispel Magic. There’s worse things out there.

-------- SENTINEL --------

Boon 1: Walking Disaster. Gain Bungle 3/day, Spontaneous Immolation2/day, or Deadly Juggernaut 1/day.

Bungle is a fun spell, slapping a target with an insurmountable -20 penalty to their next attack roll or check requiring a d20 roll, but since the spell is only level 1 and takes your concentration to maintain, it’s not likely going to stick. Granted, it lingers for 2 rounds after you stop concentrating so you can focus elsewhere, so there’s certainly worse spells to use... but it only affects one attack roll or check at a level where most enemies have two or even three attacks, making it significantly less useful than it looks. It’s best if you use it out of combat to scramble a skill check a foe is trying to use, but it’s negated by a Will save entirely so it loses a lot of potential oomph. And I just read the spell even closer and it says it only works on Humanoid targets, so it’s even worse than I previously thought!

Spontaneous Immolation is infinitely funnier to use, anyway. Why make someone flub a speech or fail an Escape Artist check when you could have them suddenly burst into flames from within? With no component requirements, Spontaneous Immolation is TRULY spontaneous, the victim exploding into fire without having an idea of the source. You could potentially make people believe it’s the wrath of your god, the power of some curse you possess, or even the wrath of their god if you can spin it well enough. The damage is middling--3d6--and is halved on a successful save, but it’s got a range of Medium and sets its victim alight if they fail their save so you can create a single spark in a crowd that becomes a roaring inferno as the panicking victim grabs onto whatever they can to try and put themselves out.

As God of Sudden Death, it’s a perfect spell for both in and out of combat, slaying random citizens in bursts of horror and pain they’d have no chance to realize is coming, I’m sure Zyphus approves of using it to malice citizens just as much as he enjoys watching his faith’s foes burst into flames. This leaves Deadly Juggernaut, a spell that a martial character such as yourself would normally LOVE getting... if it weren’t for the final clause stating that the effect doesn’t trigger unless you slay a foe within 4 HD of yourself. While that prevents the effect from being exploited with a Sack Of Rats, it also makes it far less likely to activate if you’re fighting swarms of lower-level enemies. It DOES mean that battling creatures of roughly equal strength to your party has some pretty high snowball potential, but since you, personally, have to reduce the target to 0 HP, unless you’re the party’s DPS you may just end up missing out on most of the spell.

I’d personally just tuck Makes You Explode under your belt each day. If nothing else, it’s a funny prank to pull on the locals.

Boon 2: Tragic Accident. 1/day as part of a successful attack, you can target your opponent with either Inflict Critical Wounds or Poison as a free action. The DC for this ability is (10 + 1/2 your Hit Dice + your Cha mod). You don’t have to declare the use of this ability until you know the attack is successful.

More than almost any other god I think I’ve encountered, Zyphus encourages lying, subterfuge, and you looking as harmless as possible. Even the ostensible God of Secrets and Murder, Norbergorberburgerhurger, inspires less subtlety in me than Zyphus, because his domain is specifically accidental deaths. You gotta make your kills look like mistakes no one could have seen coming, which makes Tragic Accident yet another tool in inspiring fear and terror than actually being useful in a fight.

Give someone a playful slug on the shoulder and scream as they fall over, dead. Deck some guy who’s hitting on you in a bar in the chest and feign horror as he suffers an apparently fatal heart attack as Poison rips through his body. Hit someone with a blowdart or even just hurl a pebble at someone and strike them down with nearly no trace, since this ability can work with ranged attacks as well. Coming up with subtle ways to use this power out of combat is significantly more fun than thinking of ways to use it in battle, because as a 1/day negated (or halved, in Critical Wounds’ case) by a save is just asking to be disappointed.

Especially in the case of Poison, because if you want someone dead in combat, hitting them usually works better than slowly, slowly, slowly hoping and praying that their Con hits 0. Inflict Critical Wounds is a little more useful if you’re using it to speed up an opponent’s death in combat, dealing 4d8+11 (+1 per level) damage... or healing an Undead ally. Yes, you have to hit with an attack, but as I’ve already stated above, the attack doesn’t have to deal much--or ANY--real damage to trigger a Tragic Accident. I do appreciate that Zyphus assures your attack connects before you trigger this ability, a lot of other Boons are not so gracious. Like...

Boon 3: Unfairness of the World. 1/day, you may fill an attack with negative energy. You must declare your use of this ability before you roll the attack roll; on a hit, the target gains a number of negative levels equal to 3 + 1/2 your Hit Dice unless it succeeds at a Fortitude saving throw (the DC for this ability is the same as Tragic Accident’s DC). If you openly wear an unholy symbol of Zyphus, the saving throw DC to resist this effect increases by 2.

... This one!

Hah. Well. Whatever you hit with this is dead. Like, straight up dead. The name of this Boon is as accurate as can be. There is NO recovering from being slapped with ten negative levels (+1 for every 2 levels you have!), because even if your victim survives the initial onslaught of energy, that’s a -10 to every single roll they make and the loss of some or even all of their high-level spells and most potent abilities. This isn’t so much a Save-or-Suck as it is the mother of all signals for your entire party to unload every SoS they have on their person upon your victim.

IF it lands.

Because not only do you have to succeed an attack roll to use this ability or have it dissolve into the aether, but they also have to fail a Fortitude save. That’s two possible points of failure for this ability which seriously reins in its potential, but with just a LITTLE bit of setup you can cut your unfortunate victim in half. It’s definitely both a possible end to a fight AND something you can smite a random citizen with by using the same “things that count as an attack roll” exploits I listed Tragic Accident. By the time you get this power, you can also shamelessly reveal your faith in the Harvestman to make the DC 2 higher, but you may want to keep that to yourself if you’re still masquerading as something else, breaking it out only for boss fights.

Most gods in Inner Sea Faiths leave a lot to be desired, so it’s nice to see a god give so generously! It’s just too bad it has to be the God of Pettiness and Inconvenience.

You can read more about him here.

#Spiritual Spotlight #Sinister Spotlight #Pathfinder #Dungeons and Dragons

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acfan120 · 4 years

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I’m gonna rant about the hate that New Horizon *still* for a bit

It’s still completely aggravating to me that people continue to bitch about how much “worse” New Horizons is compared to previous Animal Crossing games. People act like NH is bland or lacks a lot of other things, when really a lot of people are taking what’s new for granted. Let’s break this down a bit:

“New Horizons didn’t bring back a lot of Special NPCs”

Yeah but that’s because their jobs became unnecessary.

- Booker and Copper aren’t needed because the Lost and Found is more readily accessible (and you don’t need to wait and build their building like in New Leaf, which could take you half a year to get)

- Resseti and Don aren’t needed because the game finally has an Auto-Save feature (which is incredibly helpful)

- Harriet isn’t needed because we can now just customize everything about ourselves on our own

- Cyrus and Reese weren’t needed back in because they were only useful for customizing furniture, which used to take half an hour to do for one lone item, which we can just do now instantly

- Phyllis, Pelly, and Pete aren’t needed because your mailbox can just hold all your mail now, and you can send a letter whenever you want.

Any other missing NPCs aren’t needed simply because their role doesn’t need to be in the game with all the changes made. And hell, it’s not the first time that a Special NPC doesn’t come back: Porter wasn’t in Wild World or City Folk, and Serena and Farley haven’t made a reappearance since their initial debuts.

“New Horizons didn’t bring back all the items”

While this is true, it isn’t as extreme as people act like it is. Part of the reason is that a lot of furniture you can just craft now, with some having their older versions being customization options. Another part is that some of it is moved to special NPCs like Gulliver. Some sets also had their names changed, (which feels unnecessary, but regardless they’re still there).

Something else to keep in mind with Animal Crossing games is that they’re *very big* games. Like, a lot more so than people realize. Designing the furniture takes a lot of time, let alone all the customization options, and the furniture in this game is a LOT more detailed than in previous games, (consider that the first game was an N64 game ported, then a DS game, then a Wii Game that was just the DS game ported, and then a 3DS game).

Them having to make super high-quality designed furniture AND clothing (which the clothing now has variants, different types, AND has its own texturing to give it more detail, and some clothing flat out being unique models) shouldn’t surprise anyone when some things just end up not being included in the end product.

“Villagers have no personality and say the same things over and over”

Literally in every single game the villagers would say the exact same shit to you all the time, because the game can only have so much space for all the unique dialogue. While I think some certain things could be triggered more often for NPCs to talk about, it’s really not any different than how it’s been, ‘cause there’s only so much that can be done. And the shit about “personality” is just Nostalgia Goggles fogging things up about a game that lacked more things to do than New Horizons on launch.

‘New Horizons has no Quality of Life changes”

40 INVENTORY SPACES

1600 INVENTORY FOR HOUSE STORAGE (WHICH GOT UNNECESSARILY UPGRADED TO 2400)

PLACEABLE FURNITURE OUTSIDE AND BASICALLY FULLY CUSTOMIZABLE TOWN, SOMETHING THAT’S BEEN HEAVILY REQUESTED FOR A LONG DAMN TIME

FUCKING PATHS

MORE CLOTHING SLOTS FOR MORE CHARACTER CUSTOMIZATION

VILLAGERS CAN ACTUALLY WEAR HATS AND SOME ACCESSORIES

LITERALLY ALL THE CHANGES I LISTED ABOVE WITH THE SPECIAL NPCS

CUSTOM DESIGNS NOW GIVE YOU 100 TOTAL SLOTS (even if it’s shared among all players in a town, which I suspect is a space saving thing (which they still give you more in this game because you used to only have 10 personal slots which you had to share between your Pro and normal designs, so really we got like 60 more slots without needing to make other characters just to use them))

Acting like there’s no Quality of Life changes to this game is fucking stupid and short sighted.

“You’re just acting like this game is flawless like a fanboy”

Also fucking wrong! Because I do have some issues with this game.

- Customized Clothing needs all the options back from New Leaf. I know they’re in the game simply because you can use QRs from that game in this one, so they should just be made available. Also we need a way to turn off the clothing bevel so there isn’t a weird coat seam on some designs. Also, bring back Customized Umbrellas.

- You should be able to craft multiple pieces of furniture at once if you have the materials, and should be able to craft them into their customized forms as well.

- Golden Tools should have some way of resetting their health. I *do not* mind that the Golden Tools can break, but you should still be able to customize them so you can reset their health. That way you don’t have to keep getting gold for them. Which speaking of, Gold should be just a bit more common, given how much uses it.

- More things in this game should do a check if you’ve owned certain items/recipes. Some events in this game will give one of each item in a random order, and won’t give you repeats until it’s given all of them to you once, (such as the fishing tourney). I believe the Seasonal Recipes should do this, and that all events should follow this criteria.

- The game should give bigger priority to giving you recipes you don’t have. I don’t mind getting repeat recipes, because you’re supposed to give them to friends/players who are missing them, but it should really give more priority to recipes you don’t have.

- Redd should be a guaranteed appearance every week, and should always come with one legit painting your museum doesn’t have until your Art exhibit is done. The Art for the museum has consistently been the worst aspect of the museum in every game, and I just want that shit to change. Hell, shove KK to appearing on Sundays with Daisy Mae, so we have that extra slot free in the week.

- Some accessories need to be tweaked so they can be worn with hats. Some I can understand because of clipping, but others are just dumb. Also put the damn bands back on the eyepatches. They look stupid just sitting there.

- Villagers should play with the furniture more. I get why they don’t use them as much, since if they’re sitting or laying down you can’t gift them stuff, but they should still use them longer than the 30 seconds they usually do.

There’s probably more that I could think of,but those are the bigger complaints I personally have. However, despite all that, I still like New Horizons a lot, and I will still argue that the game is still a marked improvement from what’s come before. People just need to learn to stop bitching about everything.

#me ranting #new horizons

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elysicndrcvm · 4 years

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━♡ guess the 23 YEAR OLD FEBRUARY baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because CHU EUNHA is just as BEDAZZLING as the month of FEBRUARY. wait, why do they remind me of JACOB BAE? beyond that, they seemed JOYOUS and SAVVY upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of DELICATE and QUIXOTIC though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX 1 / APARTMENT 0215 / FLOOR 3 ; HE seem(s) to have a lot going on with HIS job as a PATISSERIE OWNER/NUTRITIONAL SCIENCE STUDENT. ( ez, 21, she/they, gmt. )

well hey there !! im ez but you fellow dallyeogers can call me ezzy, i have been in dallyeog before so some may remember me as having someone v different to my new bb i bring u now, i joined before with miss tam carmen !! anygays i return with this lil angel who i am all ‘ i say that’s my baby and i’m proud ’ over already even tho i literally came up with him like two days ago. you can find his pinboard here ( which btw i fuckeN love like he’s so aesthetic to me u go king ) and i made him a lil playlist which u can vibe to here. you can learn more about him under the cut but he’s a super soft-hearted gentle dove of a muse and quite...simple for me ?? sdhdh that’s not the right wording but U GET IT djjflg he isn’t super full of angst or trauma he’s just kinda viBIN livin his best life so that’s fun !! but ye without further ado:

so as u kno from his app he owns a patisserie, it’s his lil babey and he is very dedicated to his craft and makin sure all his ideas for the place and the baked goods he sells are like rlly quirky and avant-garde. like he is so passionate about it u dont even KNOW, he tries to make sure most of the stuff on his menu is something like fun and new u wouldn’t get at just any old patisserie or cafe and that it’s super varied and also kinda aesthetic af? the place is very like trendy. it’s called patisserie d’elysian cause ya know he’s an extra biTCHH and proud.

he has three pupperino’s. all as adorable as each other, snickerdoodle is his golden lab and often ppl shorten it down to snickers, butterscotch is his dapple daschund pup, shortens the name to scotchie often. toulouse is his fancy toy poodle boi, shortens the name down as toto. if u are on the shortened name basis with his pups then u can consider urself one of his close pals.

he’s actually adopted by his aunt but she raised him like she was his mother so that is what he considers her, she’s on his mother’s side but they are half-siblings. in terms of first name reasoning as well she just liked eunha as a name and didn’t even think about how it is traditionally for a female, she liked that it meant gift from heaven so it stuck. his father is still around, he’s just quite elderly so it felt like a better living situation for him to be raised primarily by his auntie. unfortunately his mother has passed on but no tragic story, she just went peacefully in old age.

he dyes his hair quite often, it’s currently like a really pastel blue with black streaks consistently throughout like lil ones so it looks super cool. but he’s also had it be a more electric blue, lilac, and a duck egg kinda faded silvery blue. it’s naturally dark brunette. has brown eyes kind of a hazel hue.

his style is kinda androgynous ig?? he just lives for soft retro fashion, lots of color in his wardrobe but also lots of tapered short and t-shirt fits frequented, sweater vests, rolled up jeans, high skater boi socks, soft jumpers with shirts, shirts in bright colours or satiny texture worn over plain white t-shirts, cardigans, pastel denim jackets, jeans with printed patterns on like clouds, flowers etc, favors yellow and blues. sometimes does eye makeup, occasionally wears heels bc he’s a baddie or super heeled boots/chunky shoes.

obsessed with music, can play violin and guitar. he’s a big mitski and rina sawayama fanatic, likes anything that sounds peaceful or calming or has like a good fun vibe to it. also likes the trademark gay icons like carly rae jepsen, lorde, etc. he’s not ashamed. obsessed with mamma mia movies. but also likes rap which is rlly funny cause its like the bad bitch female rappers only and like he’ll listen to it while arranging his sock drawer or making his bed or something ajdjdj it’s like hype anthems for being a baddie and a hoe and he’s just doing his night sleepy routine adkfkf.

showers, blankets, music, baked goods especially bagels are his happy places.

very much a sensitive lil romanticist, falls in ‘love’ like five times a day, he just likes to giggle and smile around pretty people and admire the artwork hnghdh, he’s like yeARNS though ya know?? like he’s all i will flirt by making prolonged eye contact, i made you a playlist, this song makes me think of you etc. it’s either memes as flirting with him or elaborate love letters u never know what ur gonna get akdkd.

awful sense of humour, loves his friends more than anything on earth except his pups, would fully live in a huge house of just like his pups and all his closest buds for all eternity. likes fruits way too much, enjoys puns about fruits way too much. milkshakes, sushi, orange hues and bus rides are some of his absolute favorite simple pleasures of life. clouds, flowers, salt lamps, the sunrise over the sea, skateboarding, fresh soda, teddy bears, busy street markets, parasols, fish tanks with exotic fish, sorbet, bike riding, polaroids, record players, rain at night against floor to ceiling windows with a fresh steaming pot of tea on the desk beside it and warm fresh sheets from the laundry on his bed, ponds, skateboarding. all little joys in life that give him like the biggest pleasure dopamine hit in the world.

his cousin actually owns a florists so he has flowers just littering his apartment like a lot and it just looks like he has ten million suitors from the late eighteenth century attempting to court him but no all these flowers are from him to him or worse from his aunt djfjg she sends him some for valentines every valentines, pls help him, pls send him flowers.

studies nutritional science and he fucken hates it. do not ask him shit cause he doesn’t KNOW OKAY? he doesn’t understand it either. he took it because he needed something to go alongside the passion for baking that was a real ‘qualification’/job so that is the only reason he’s doing it. no point doing a baking degree after all when he’s already a baker with a business, he’s super young still he gotta keep his prospects open. so YAH. he’d rather be doing culinary arts but eh. nutritional science sounded better and more logic based. the real miracle is he still gets top grades all the time even tho he spends his life like wtf am i even doing is this even legit akdkdk. school is the worst thing in the world for him watch his mood instantly deflate the second its brought up.

despite being a quixotic, he’s a lil afraid of intimacy. like oh god does he love it, those small touches and acts of affection u kno? the subtle things that normally go unnoticed, eye contact, brushing of hands, linking of little fingers, rubbing a thumb, kissing eyelids or foreheads or palms or shoulders in little gentle pecks, back massages and rubs or finger tracing patterns absent-minded, shoulder massages, laying your head on someone’s shoulder or on their lap, knocking knees together, exchanging a small glance only the two of you get before bursting into laughter, smiling into kisses, napping together, having blankets placed over you warm and fresh, or towels put ready like it, someone making you something they know you like a lot. that’s his sHIT. but like he’s terrified still, someone skimming their fingers on his skin makes his breath hitch like he’s a scandalized and alarmingly aroused victorian woman sjdjd. he’s literally still a virgin, he hasn’t even had his first kiss okay my baby is delicate be gentle with him akdkd but he still LIKES PASSION AIGHT kfkf.

real soft spoken, honey tinted voice like i shit u not this boy talks like he’s an angel sent from heavens above to guide you to the paradisaical garden of eden or some shit akdkd. ur gonna fall in love with eunha’s voice before u even fall in love with any other part of him like his adorable beaming smile or stunning eyes akdkf.

has dance parties around his room when getting ready in the morning, listens to bella’s lullaby unironically yes from twilight yes u heard right, bit of a himbo streak sometimes in his obliviousness djfjf. quite silently subtly funny actually much like jacob himself.

he is gay, afraid of driving, cannot do math, blanks out often and he is valid for all of those things. has a collection of cartoon and disney animal movie dvds. has a dream notebook. always has blue painted nails in some kinda shade.

does not enjoy turning in assignments bc he is scared he’ll fail, avoids looking at his grades for weeks after they’re released and hates knowing that they’re out.

cannot dance, dances often. collects vintage stuff esp clothes and mostly sweaters. likes midnight trips to corner stores and fields where he can just lay and look at the stars. makes friends rlly easily but has super bad performance anxiety. cannot ever have a messy room like even the tiniest bit messy. even like clothes being stacked on a chair instead of away.

bakes peanut butter, banana and choc chip muffins (they r called monkey bites normally) whenever he’s super stressed. if u want to cheer him up when he’s anxious or stressed then u should give him french lavender honey, chia seeds and caramelized pear on toast/bagel. it is his comfort food. he fancii when he needs a pick me up. treat urself and all that.

#dallyeog:intro #i'm literally in love with him he's the softest most goodest boi muse i have ever made and i just #im that meme of the samari sword guy with the cat in his arms akfkfk #IVE ONLY HAD EUNHA FOR TWO DAYS BUT IF ANYONE HURTS HIM I WILL KILL THEM AND THEN MYSELF AKKDK

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lairofsentinel · 4 years

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What can we say about the relationship between the tadpole and the person who appears in dreams?

[Baldur’s Gate 3, Early Access, Spoilers]

At a first glance, in a careless attempt, we immediately connect the tadpole with the image of the person in our main char’s dreams. One is inclined to think it is the tadpole itself asking for the host to let them in. However, after carefully watching the scene, and checking all its options... I started to doubt it.

During Early Access we only can see four dreams [video compilation of the dreams]:

The first one, in which only the voice is heard for a couple of seconds, shows a weird... tentacle-like creature? It’s not made of the gray skin of a Mind Flayer, it’s red, and unless it’s a terrible bug... it may say that we are in the presence of something different than the usual Mind-Flayer. In fact, I think it looks like a tiefling or a Cambion tail/wings (they have thorns). Could it be Raphael’s since he is red? How do we explain those boots in the top of the screenshot?. Maybe it’s a mere bug.

The second one, in which the main char awakes in that intense green garden, has a peaceful sense to it.

The third one is when that desired person in the dreams shows you an enemy you stab in self defence, and then you observe an entire city under siege.

The forth one is when you have the ability to kill that person in the dreams.

After having the second dream, we can talk about this with our companions. All of them, except by Astarion, explain that their dreams were about desire and power. About a promise.

It's clear for us that Gale dreamt about Mystra and Wyll about Mizora. Both women are the embodiment of power and desire. We don't have a clue who Shadowheart dreamt about, but we know is a he that represents the same values. Astarion is the one who disrupts the pattern.

He dreamt about Cazador, which is for sure the representation of power, but of his desire? At first I thought it was a twisted taste forced onto him over two hundred years of slavery. As a slave, maybe he had to learn how to enjoy the worst things just to endure it, so the incredibly wicked and twisted insinuation of Astarion being attracted to his tormentor... was surprising at first. Especially when you explore his dialogue and he shows a strong bad reaction to such insinuation.

Thinking about it a bit more, I realised that maybe Astarion “desiring” Cazador is another thing he is forced to do against his own will. Or maybe it's the typical consequence of the vampire relationship with the sire: the childe is always attracted to their sire, no matter how much they hate them. Astarion is not even free of having his own desire due to Cazador's power, so... his dream about Cazador was another display of the control that such figure has over him. Therefore, we can say that, in the end, he is also following the pattern, but his desire is commanded by being a vampire spawn.

When it comes to the main char, we also know that such figure in their dreams is someone they are attracted to [that's exactly what we were asked to do in the character creation part].

The tadpole in the main character's head reacts negatively to this desired person, and it’s strange. It can mean that the projection of that figure and the tadpole are not the same (Gale, are you wrong?). The figure acknowledges the presence of the tadpole and the transformation in process, and they seem to be in power of stopping it if only you let them “in”. But the presence of the tadpole is always there while interacting with this figure, uncomfortable and wanting to get away from that desired person. The tadpole feels threatened by this figure.

At times, this beautiful figure feels like an entity proper of a demon, asking you to let it in and possess you. We know by Shadowheart’s comment that this voice appeared in her head when she was in the ship, so that we can assume it started to affect the hosts by the same time the tadpole process started.

The hag provided us the most valuable information I found out in the game. She confirmed that the tadpole has been altered, as everyone had suspected. But not only that... they had netherese magic, shadow magic (*) in it. This, however, feels wrong in terms of lore: mind flayers detest arcane magic, they believe its a corrupt version of the psionic power they have. Mixing it with their traditional birth procedure looks odd. Odd if this new experiment is only their idea. Maybe the big mind behind these new tadpoles is not a Mind flayer.

With this bit of information given by the hag, I was inclined to think that this magical compound may explain the presence of the person in the main char's dreams. What surprises me is that the tadpole wants the figure away, so how is it possible that both, the figure and the tadpole, work one against the other? If we assume that the tadpoles were altered to perform a transformation of some sort, shadow magic embodied by that figure and the tadpole should work together. However, the tadpole triggers hunger and animal instincts to rip that figure out. It feels endangered. Maybe it’s because the whole procedure is an experiment yet.

The desired figure keeps claiming they want you to help, but in the process, they also tell you that you can be more powerful and conquer Baldur's Gate [yes, despite the blurriness, it is enough to distinguish the characteristic entrance of the city].

[image from the trailer]

The last dream is one of the most disturbing ones. You awake with symptoms of your skull starting to change its bones, and apparently, the presence of the figure is the only thing which is preventing the transformation. The figure is irritated. You can ask them for help you because the parasite is going too far. The figure says that they need to go deeper into you to calm down the “animal” inside. And once more the tadpole activates a defence mechanism.

You can indulge yourself in the desire of destroying the figure apart, and you ride the figure strangling them and killing them. The figure calls you “monster” and tells you that you deserve what's coming for you [which I assume, it's the standard Mind Flayer transformation]. The experiment may have failed in this way since you destroy the stasis.

If you resist the impulse of killing them and at the same time resist the intrusion of the figure, the figure is disgusted with you. The figure only is understandable with you when you tell them the truth about your impulse of killing them. They will state that they knew about it, and they trust you to control it while they go deeper into you.

It’s disconcerting if the sudden hunger for death comes from the tadpole (I put my coins here) or from the figure going deeper into you. I assume it’s the tadpole because the figure will call you monster and wont be happy if you indulge yourself in that hunger.

By the end, the figure calls you ungrateful if you resisted them once more and tells you that the next time you meet them, you will ask forgiveness. Early access allows that last dream and no more.

Hypothesis

Now, all these strange urges for murdering the figure makes me wonder if the magical compound that now these tadpole have is related to some evil divine entity, playing a role similar to Bhaal in Baldur’s Gate 1 and 2. In those previous games, you and a bunch of people were direct spawn of the God of Murder, and in a couple of occasions, you had strong urges to kill losing control of your character [and killing NPCs you were fond of]. What if... this new tadpole is an experiment combining the Mind-Flayer procedure of birth (needed in order to have a completely different body for new demi-god powers) with a divine-infused-magical compound from the shadows. What for?. I don’t know... maybe to create an army of demi-gods? [following the usual flavour of Baldur’s Gate series].

This procedure, if it’s as such, could allow to have god-spawn creatures without the God sleeping with mortals and waiting mortal-gestation times. xD If we follow this train of thoughts, and we believe a God is behind all this, it must be some tyrant God, like Bhaal or Bane, since the dreams are all about power and control, showing Baldur’s Gate under siege. Maybe the procedure is not perfect, since there are two different effects working one against the other: The shadow magic that infuses a degree of divinity is about desire and power, but the tadpole’s only interest is to go on with the standard Mind-Flayer procedure.

I thought about this divinity-compound because we saw that there are third parties interested in this new particular tadpole: Raphael. What Gale says to you after his visit is a fact: if a cambion become interested in these tadpoles, it’s because there is more than souls at stakes. But all of these are specualtions. The only certanties are:

Tadpoles are not only Mind-Flayer-made.

They have been altered with Shadow Magic (weird for Mind Flayers).

The Tadpole and the figure which offers you power are different entities.

The more you use powers of command, the more these dreams come and the more it triggers the Mind-Flayer transformation.

The figure in your dreams is the only one preventing the Mind-Flayer transformation.

Conventional tadpoles only cause Mind-Flayer transformation in a week.

Extra information I found later [here]

More content of bg3 in general [here]

-------------

(*) Shadow magic is a Weave-base magic in the Forgotten Realms. It comes from the Shadow Planes connecting to them via the Weave. It's not related to Shadow Weave (an alternate Wave crafted by Shar), something I talked about when explaining some bits of Mystra [here]. You use the standard Mystra-Weave to use shadow magic, but it's not rare that users of shadow magic find some affinity with Shadow Weave. Apparently it's a type of magic strongly related to a human [Tethyrian] ethnic. Churchs of Lolth, Mask, Set, Shar, and Shargaas show interest in this type of magic.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 spoilers #tadpole #mind flayer #forgotten realms #forgotten realms lore #I'm new at this lore!!!! so help me... this world is so fuckign vast and not always consistent!!! shit #trying to find some continuity of BG3 with Bg1 and 2 #there is always a god behind every big shit... so....#is it bhaal again??#bg3 lore #bg3 meta

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talesofsonicasura · 4 years

Text

Unappreciated Hunter

A Monster Hunter encounters Hat Kid and helps her out. Didn't know he was going to get dragged into her weird life.

Kokoto, the village of strong and tough Monster Hunters. The citizens can be quite pushy to traveling hunters and at higher levels when it revolves around ex guild hunters. Any hunter from Kokoto would judge and mock any fellow warrior 'not worth their salt'. Even the Felyne that runs the cafetine there is quite rude.

Yet, it was the only place to acquire certain materials or ingredients which is important for any that travels in monster infested lands. Items that couldn't be found anywhere else. After all it was also a popular merchant village, considering the village chief was a retired Legendary Hunter. Guess the high standards considering hunters was slightly justified.

"...And fuck you too! Go kiss a Congala's ass if that's how you treat your customers!" Angry swearing was also guaranteed as a white haired man stormed out of a shop in rage. Long silver locks tied into a wild ponytail, tannish skin balanced by lean yet rock hard muscle, eyes were a bright blue highlighted by black stripe outlines, and stood at an intimidating 7'2 in height.

His clothes consisted of a long beige winter coat with blue and red triangle patterned cuffs alongside large cotton ball looking buttons, beige long trousers with white puffy cuffs, black hiking boots made out of some sort of reptilian hide and white fur gloves. In his hand was a woven straw basket filled with fruit, cheeses, spices and herbs.

The man let an aggravated sigh before trying to cool his temper. "Come on Kahtal. Don't let that asshat get to you. Plus Nekona those need the ingredients and getting blacklisted from every shop went help." He or Kahtal said rubbing his hand against the side of his head. He took a deep breath and continued to the next vendor.

Well, he would if a soft sparkle of light hadn't grabbed his attention. This tinge of light was a mystifying soft blue and looked to be near the Hero Shrine by the village's oldest tree. Curiosity getting the best of him, he walked over to the odd phenomenon awarely ignorant to disapproving glances from some of the village hunters.

The Hero Shrine was essentially a tree that held the Hero's Shield and the stone before carrying the Hero's Blade. Weapons used by Kokoto's chief to defeat a powerful Elder Dragon known as Lao-Shan-Lung. What really got Kahtal's attention was what sat slightly embedded into the earth a bit far from the shrine.

This item looked like an hourglass, well a very weird hourglass. The glass was crystal clear that sparkled but held no sand in it, the rims that kept it together had two gold beads sandwiching a purple hat shaped and the soft glow that radiated from the very object. It was beautiful and incredibly well crafted from Kahtal's perspective.

"Who could make something like this and where's their owner?" Kahtal picked up the item carefully while speaking his thoughts to himself. One thing he did know was it looked to be very important and not the type of item to be trashed carelessly. Someone clearly lost it. His thoughts were interrupted by a soft 'Hey!'.

The young man looked down to see his leg was being tugged by a little girl. She had soft peach skin paired with curly brown hair in a back ponytail and topped with a purple top hat that had a gold ribbon, bright blue eyes and little nose. She wore a purple shirt with a light gold cape, white trousers and black little shoes. On her back was a light blue umbrella covered in stickers.

"Um, hi there. Sorry I didn't notice you." Kahtal said with a sheepish look on his face. The peculiar little girl let out a tiny giggle before nodding. She then pointed at the hourglass in his hand. The man took a glance at her hat and the hat beads on the hourglass. They were the exact same.

"Does this belong to you? I found it dugged a bit into the ground over there." He pointed at the little hole in the grass. The little girl nodded heavily with a polite smile on her face. Kahtal guessed she was a selective mute as the only word she spoke was 'Hey' in order to get his attention.

"Well, here you go. You're lucky I found it. I don't think any other passerby would have given it back." The young man handed the child the hourglass carefully as to not drop it. She took the peculiar item and hugged it before hugging his leg in appreciation. Kahtal let out a soft chuckle before patting her head.

"I must be going. My friend is waiting for me outside the village with these groceries. Take care." The little girl nodded at his words before whispering a soft quiet 'thank you'. Both went their separate ways and Kahtal's mood was much better after that.

The next time he saw the little girl or the fact he met her again at all was in the worst place a child should never be. There are places in this monster filled world that normal people aren't allowed to travel alone. Only ones who could were merchants, caravans and most highly monster hunters. Kahtal was the latter of this group.

A mission was sent to his personal home by a messenger Kinsect. The client wanted him to gather some Coal from an area known as the Volcanic Hollow. A large string of caverns found within a monstrous supervolcano. The intense heat in the deeper sections made it a cozy home for all sorts of deep dwelling monsters and perfect place to gather ores.

It looked like a simple quest but these types of missions usually had something dangerous causing problems in the background. A pretty accurate assumption to make as there was a Subquest at the bottom. An extra piece of mission that was optional for the Hunter but meant extra pay if taken.

This particular Subquest was asking for him to stop a Uragaan who was causing a ruckus down there. Uragaan also known as the Burst Hammer Wyvern, a large Brute Wyvern that can create powerful tremors by slamming its armored jaw into the ground and rolling over any foolish creature to aggravate it. Their diet consisting of ores made it dangerous for any miner who accidentally runs into one.

Gathering supplies to keep him properly cool in the hotter areas were necessary since having a heatstroke in a volcano was the worst way to go. Once preparations were made and gear was set, the hunter set off to Volcanic Hollow. Dealing with the Burst Hammer Wyvern was the first thing needed to be done before even thinking of digging for coal.

This definitely wasn't a place normal people should travel through. A simple thought of a little girl in purple strolling through the lava heated caverns. The interior of a volcano was less lava-y than any she had seen before. First spot to find after jumping down the mouth was a few small conjoining clifftops and some natural hot springs by them.

Only things other than two paths that didn't go deeper down and one that did were the strange green doggy faced creatures munching on whatever plants or mushrooms growing there. They gave her odd looks but just minded their business and continued to graze. Next spot had multiple small lava pools and two were branching paths with one that meant another big jump.

There were some mean reddish snake bird worm things that tried to bite or whack her with their tail. She clobbered them multiple times with her umbrella before they got the hint and ran. This time the child decided to take the side path instead of a large jump. Big mistake on her part.

The room was pretty with a huge amber column at the center that was in a beehive like formation and more smaller red ones that added extra support. Bright sapphire blue crystals and ruby red crystals sticking from the ground in a roundish rectangular form. If only she noticed that the odd growing gold stone on the ground was a monster's tail.

"Aaaaaaah!!!" Echoed the screams of a little girl through a mountainous deep section of the volcano. Tiny stream of water pouring down the cliffs to the large molten ground below shook with the tremors of heavy footsteps. The little purple hatted girl ran across the reddish dirt as a large beast followed her relentlessly.

It was a large reptilian creature that could honestly be mistaken as a dinosaur from the powerful looking legs but underdeveloped tiny arms. Its face was round dark brownish scaled except for its huge orangish color jaw, from its head to the very long rounded tail were large flat topped amber crystals that were positioned in the way tires are to leave tracks, thick muscled legs with sharp claws and bright green eyes that burned with rage.

The 25 ft tall brute looked a bit beaten up but the little girl would admit personally that she had nothing to do with it. Of course it didn't matter since the lizard monster was still angry and probably cranky for her poking its tail with an UMBRELLA. If she ever got out of here alive, she would never come back...maybe.

The giant then let out a painted cry as the ground shook hard nearly making the child lose her footing. She flipped around to understand what happened. Giant lizard thing had been slammed to the ground by someone covered in armor and holding what looked to be a sword and shield. The shield part slammed into the mean beast's head.

The armor was a bright crimson with light summer colors such as orange and gold fitted to its feudal samurai look. Chest plate had an orange triangle coming from the bottom as it pointed to two cogs on the separate sides that were connected by a thick white rope, a giant red cape with big fancy and fluffy gold rims, red shield shaped plates covering a gold rim red skilt, red armor gauntlets and boots but the cool thing was the mask.

It was faceless with eye slots but large red horns that went back and curved at the end but also orange along with a large white mane that was in the back. The shield was lustrous ruby with a gold wheel on the surface and a cog with two golden hour hands at the center. And the sword had a crystalline blade that started before ending in a reddish violet at tip and punk looking half gold claw hilt to a silver handle.

Eyes from the helmet looked at her before the masked man pulled his helmet a bit to show Kahtal's face. "You're the little girl I met in Kokoto! How did you get into the Volcanic Hollow?!" He cut off his words when the monster or Uragaan began to move underneath him. The man bashed the beast's head with his shield before getting into its face.

It immediately flinched upon the pair of eyes glaring back into its own. They weren't of a man but of a beast. Bigger, meaner and absolutely powerful. The glare of an Alpha. "You better stay down and don't try anything. So much as harm a hair on that little girl's head then consider your life forfeit. Now sit!" Voice was heavy as steel and the tone brimming with pure dominance.

Uragaan shivered violently before seating itself to the floor once Kahtal stepped off the beast's head. He gave the large brute a glance before sheathing both his blade and shield onto his back. Then the silverette turned to the most impossible thing to run around in a volcano. The little girl who had looks of awe in her eyes now lost it upon the look she was getting from the hunter.

"What are you doing here? This isn't a safe place for people much less little girls. Especially ones that somehow managed to have a Uragaan chase them. The species isn't called Burst Hammer Wyvern for no reason." Kahtal spoke pointing at the specific cowering dragon behind him.

"I wanted to see you! You gave me my Time Piece back so I thought you wanted to be my friend! And I got here from my ship since it said you were somewhere around here." There was a bunch of childish pep and cheer to her voice like it was natural despite the guilty look on her face. Or the fact she was nervously poking her fingers together.

Now he had a lot of questions but knew that the inside of a volcano wasn't the place to discuss it. "Let's talk about it once we're back at the camp on top of the volcano. And you!" The Burst Hammer Wyvern flinched upon Kahtal pointing his finger at the beast. It was still scared at the much smaller human man.

"You are being relocated to an island unreachable to human civilization. A winged companion of mine will be picking you up so stay put! Behave then I'll forget about you trying to trample a little girl and maybe add in some yummier ores than the ones down here." The knowledge of the alpha human forgiving him, a new home and chance of a tasty treat had the Uragaan positively complacent with his current position.

Kahtal took out what looked to be a signal gun before firing a green smoke round into the air. The flare spilling green smoke out into the volcano's entrance paired with a lime like scent. Once that flare was shot, Kahtal picked up the little girl and hoisted her on his back. He then took off ignoring the sound of large flapping wings or the sound of shock in the other room that he left the Uragaan in.

The volcano top had a small makeshift camp settled a good space from the mouth to the heated mountain. A simple tent that provided cover from the sun for a large mattress, two large crates with one blue and the other red, and a few makeshift fence blockades. Kahtal was now looking at the little child with a ludicrous look.

"So your name is Hat Kid, and you're an alien refugee from another world. You came here because a Timepiece, which is the fuel for your ship somehow crashlands in Kokoto village. After I returned it to you, you tried to find me again so I can be your friend and hangout with you." The hunter questioned while holding his helmet in his right hand.

The little girl or Hat Kid sat on the queen sized mattress next to Kahtal while she told him her tale. She was nodding at every inquiry he had got from the hat wearing child. "Normally I treat that kind of stuff as Congala crap if I haven't taken in consideration the evidence. A glowing hourglass with no sand isn't normal, a little girl managing to get into a place that is blacklisted to Low Rank Hunters or the fact you got to one of the deepest levels, and NOT die from lethal heatstroke."

Hat Kid looked a bit sheepish when he brought back her little volcano adventure but was glad he did believe her. Kahtal then stood up from the bed and looked at the alien child. "My friend is taking the Uragaan to a new habitat and won't be back for an hour. Might as well take me to your ship." He did think her insane attempt to find him should at least be rewarded...only this one time.

A big smile grew on her face before she ran over and took his free hand immediately. The older man would admit he didn't expect the both of them to float before shooting off into the sky. They were going up so fast that he saw the darkness of space and the shining stars. And like a light switch, Kahtal wasn't outside the volcano but now in a little girl's very odd bedroom.

The odd things being the sea of pillows a good distance from the bed, lights on the ceiling, glass screen viewing the vacuum of space, odd candles that sit by said pit or the giant burnt noodle reading at the top of the staircase by said pillow sea. "Hey! I heard that!" A sheepish look crossed his face. The last part he accidentally spoke out loud.

The offended noodle had a glowing yellow face found on children's jack o' lanterns: circular eyes and the big childish mouth with two fangs, a mane of dark purple that was the same color as his body, spindly arms that ended with two finger ovenmitts that clearly was hiding claws and a long spindly tail making his height around 20 ft long.

"You know kiddo I don't know what's worse. The fact you brought a pecking knight of all things on board or the fact he was rude to me: the all handsome, powerful and soul eating, Snatcher! It's also really rude to insult the dead." The now named specter or Snatcher said while his last bit was deadpan unlike the bolster before in his distorted echo voice.

Kathal's response to this was a raised eyebrow. "First off, I didn't mean to say that out loud so sorry for that. Second, why tell me that you are a soul eating ghost when I'm a 'knight' to you. And third, the proper term is Monster Hunter not Monster Slayer. Unless your causing trouble on my planet that make people send out a request to hunt you, then I won't stab you with my blade and relocate your hide." The mortal man listed with his fingers and pure nonchalance.

The ghost set aside his book so he wouldn't lose in the sea of bed material before slithering over to the armored man. Size difference between them was now clearer than before but Kahtal still had a passive look on his face. "And don't you have quite a snarky side to ya, kiddo." Snatcher chuckles while Kahtal glared back.

"The name is Kahtal Shinsu and I'm a 32 year old man. I am definitely not a kid because last I checked, children don't have an 7'2 body with an eight pack." The silverette's rebuttal didn't make the ghost's smile go away. It only made it more mischievous looking as the 20 ft noodle laughed.

"And I'm over 300 years old which makes ya a mere baby in comparison. An eight pack huh? Definitely the type of muscle for some dirty work back in my forest!" Snatcher said while placing an arm around the hunter's shoulder in a 'buddy' manner. Hat Kid then tugged on his leg for giving him an inquisitive look.

The 'What were you doing' look obviously wanting to know why he was in the Volcanic Hollow in the first place. "I had a job there. My client wanted me to gather 30 pieces of coal from the volcano. There was a bonus quest to deal with that Uragaan who was chasing my hatted companion here." Spotting what looked to be a chalkboard, Kahtal strolled over to it.

Taking a piece of chalk, he sketched out a fully detailed picture of the mentioned Burst Hammer Wyvern minus the injuries from before, all in the span of a minute and the word Uragaan next to it. Snatcher floated over and looked at the image with interest. "Sure looks like quite a brute! No wonder the kiddo looked ready to drop. Gave her a run for her money! Ah Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!" He then looked at Kahtal.

"This was also an extra part of the current job description? That makes you an even better contractor for me to hire! Honestly there is some work in my domain that needs a more refined touch than Hat Brat there. She has a habit of making quite the mess." The little girl in question gave him a raspberry.

"Well, you'll need to have a request paper ready. Usually I have a Kinsect deliver me jobs to my home since I'm more of a freelance hunter." Kahtal then drew at the bottom of the board a peculiar bug of sorts. It looked like a scarab but the wings and size were wrong.

"Really now? I don't know where you live but I can mark it down if you take this back." The man didn't expect for the ghost's hand to ignite in blue fire. Or that fire to form a dark purple version of what the kinsect he drew but had the same jack o' lantern smile Snatcher has on their wings. Kahtal would mark it to be creation magic.

"This Kinsnatch here will be delivering any jobs I have for ya. And a bit more." The last bit was a whisper before Snatcher put the magic made insect in the hunter's hands. He looked at the odd insect and immediately knew this was going to be trouble.

Lucky thing was he got dropped off the same place he was before allowing his own alien abduction. And his current ride had just returned. Bad news was how damn aggravating that purple ghost was going to be in the future.

Hey everyone! Sorry not updating the blog for quite a bit. Life is crazy and honestly been trying to handle with some changes to my home.

This story is an experimental crossover using Monster Hunter and A Hat in Time. I wanted to try my hand at writing a Monster Hunter fic but also wanted that kind of vibe you get exploring in different chapters like you do for a A Hat In Time.

Hope you guys enjoyed it! Stay safe and healthy folks!

This is the armor used and the monster Uragaan!

#crossover #oc #ahit #ahit hat kid #ahit snatcher #snatcher #hat kid #a hat in time #monster hunter #oc hunter #fanfic #uragaan

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ask-the-clergy-bc · 4 years

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Hiya! So in your opinion what do you think it would take for the Papas and Cardinal Copia to open up and be vulnerable with a S/O? Would it need time and trust, maybe an event which caused them to have an epiphany, or maybe they get caught at a bad time and need some comfort? Thank you!

I accidentally made this into a giant character introspection, whooooooooooops!

Ooooooooooooooooh boy, this is gonna be a long one so sit down! There’s no easy answer for me to give without a thesis sooooooooooooooooooooo-

Papa’s and Copia - What it Takes to have them be Truly Vulnerable with an S/O

Character flaw and reflection time! I will warn you these men are all far from perfect!

There’s definitely a LOT of elements and circumstances for each of these Antipopes, so I will try my best to sum it up without letting it get too big! Trust will be the key word in opening them all up!

A super short answer for this would be a small chart. From easiest to hardest to open up genuinely to an S/O (regardless of the situation), it would look something like this.

Papa Nihil

Papa I

Cardinal Copia

Papa II

Papa III

Keeping this in mind is actually really important as a lot of it has to play into each personality and life experiences. Even then, this is a super tight race! They all don’t blindly trust and they all have a level of mystery they NEED to keep about them. So it’s a huge mix of their jobs as Papas and who they are deep down.

There is a reason such things like Prime Movers exist/ Having courtesans and harem members rather than proper spouses. A Papa could easily be compromised by a spouse. With either a partner using them to manipulate the Church, or straight up betraying them. A Papa has to be alert, smart, and VERY VERY sure when choosing a lifelong mate. They have to be able to know without a doubt that they can count on their partner with their very lives and the lives of others.

THEN there are so many personal factors and circumstances that come into play! It’s safe to say that all of them are emotionally guarded in some way, shape, or form. That comes with the territory of being a Hell Blooded man of power. You don’t know who REALLY loves you, who’s using you, or who wants something. On top of that, the emotional burdens of their work, their faith, personal fears, and the expectations put on them.

It can be VERY hard to gauge what really clicks for each of them to trust someone. So, as asked, we will take a look into each of them! :)

Papa Nihil:

If you caught him in his younger years, he might have been more trusting with a serious partner. Not out of naivety or blind love, but out of arrogance. Arrogance that a partner could not hurt him even if they betrayed him. Nihil had an ego to him and felt on top of the world- being Papa and nothing to stop him. Not even a broken heart! To him, the worst thing that could happen with an S/O would be heartbreak, and he refused to believe that was anything that could break him! Well… it ended up happening with Sister Imperator. So after she left, he understood the consequences of his actions and what that would actually feel like. It’s not something he’s too keen to feel again.

As he got older, he hardened. The only one who has really ever seen his softer, vulnerable side has been Imperator. She’s the only one he remotely trusts in the deepest sense, and even then- he has doubted her motives with the introduction of Copia! Nihil learned the hard way that putting your trust in the wrong people can have serious consequences to your life.

That all being said, two things really work with getting Nihil to be open to you with his feelings. First would be his “test”- not something he purposely does to make his S/O jump through hoops, mind you. Consider it an observation period where he sees how serious a relationship can be with you. Nihil doesn’t mind flings, and as Grand Papa, has a willing harem at his disposal. The first months or years with a single partner is him learning about them. This goes from seeing how serious YOU are, your intentions and sincerity, how well you both click, and how close you end up being. That, and making sure you aren’t just using him. Granted, he doesn’t mind the occasional arm candy or someone who just wants to have fun. Those are just the partners he doesn’t put extra effort into when it comes to emotions or deeper mental intimacy.

The second is just plain old time. If you two become serious, and stick by each other through thick and thin- you will learn about him. Nihil will slowly disclose more and more to you. Don’t go crazy, because the Grand Papa is always watching for any hints of betrayal (nothing personal, it comes with the job.) So the more you are trustworthy, the more he shares. There will be a few tough subjects to crack with him, like his relationship with Imperator and his sons. But the more you mutually talk and grow together, the more things work out. I will warn you, no matter how much he trusts you he IS a stubborn old goat and some information HAS to be pried from him- simply because HE WILL NOT ADMIT ANYTHING TO HIMSELF SOMETIMES.

Papa I:

Papa can be very open and trusting with a serious partner, that typically is not the problem. Granted, he’s very analytical so his own feelings are something he tries to approach logically. But that’s not the problem. The hurtle would just be you both getting to be a serious couple in the first place. As to him there is a vast difference between a sexual/romantic fling, casual companionship, and the workings of a true mate ship. The last of which is riddled with pitfalls due to his place as Papa and carrier of his bloodline.

Papa tends to let his sense of duty rule over almost every aspect of his life. He is one of the ‘purest’ followers of Lucifer, and it shows in everything he does! Because of that, he has not typically sat down to consider companionship past his carnal needs and having someone to spend time with. Typically anything deeper would mean something equivalent to our idea of marriage- and with “marriage” to a Papa brings up the topic of possible heirs brought on by the Ministry. When a Papa is heavily involved with someone beyond their casual lovers, the idea of heirs is ALWAYS discussed. The Bloodline HAS to be continued. Depending on the sex of the partner, questions will be asked such as- can the partner become a prime mover? If possible are they SUITABLE? If they can’t have children will they interfere in possible heirs being made? In short, Papa equates “Serious” partners to this duty to sow the seeds of the bloodline’s future.

That being said, Papa would actually prefer a partner he could be open with. The trick is that he has to snap himself out of thinking just for the family and ministry’s sake. Which is self admittedly a difficult feat for him, because he’s always in work and faith mode. That’s just who he is. The other just has to do with how he treats others.

Typically Papa is much more interested in what you, his partner, is feeling. This comes with YEARS of thinking of everyone but himself. Papa has had to consider his flock, the will of the high clergy, the will of his father, the wants and needs of his brothers, and those he considers friends or in need of his guidance. Papa knows how to take care of himself, so HIS feelings are almost inconsequential. Papa much rather let you talk and share how you are than consider himself. It typically just takes a bit of asking and prodding on your part to get him to open up if you two have been close for a long time. Being honest and to the point also helps, as it gives him a moment to collect his thoughts and express himself thoroughly.

Papa II:

Being emotionally vulnerable for Papa II is very difficult. Not because he CHOOSES to be a ‘wounded bitter old man.’ Even though he is very much that AND a known grouch and perfectionist; Papa just doesn’t know HOW to be. Papa does have emotions and he does feel them very deeply when he’s not trying to tough it out. But Papa has never been GOOD at expressing his feelings, even as a child. It’s not something he was in touch with, and not very comfortable for him to think about. Unlike III, Papa II just cannot seem to find it in himself to express his true feelings. Granted, he could put it into words as he is very eloquent. But… it’s difficult.

On top of that, Papa has never been one to let his weaknesses appear. Emotions are often embraced by Lucifer, as expressing them. But to Papa, these are his weak points and he prides himself too much in keeping all his weaknesses guarded. Papa has crafted himself to cover his vulnerabilities in such a way that they play to his strengths! For his emotions and true feelings, he detaches from them; giving him the ability to lead with a critical and objective mind not bogged down by empathy. As a Papa, this makes him an excellent and analytical leader. As a lover, this often bites him in the ass- especially in pursuing any SERIOUS life time commitments. Something he wasn’t keen on doing in the first place.

Papa is very aware of how ‘spouses’ work for the Bloodline. Bonding with a potential mate has always been in the interest of furthering the family, not personal fulfillment. He’s tried VERY hard to keep it that way. And like his father, he is painfully aware of those who would manipulate his feelings. And if we were being honest? The idea of genuinely falling in love scares the absolute shit out of Papa. The idea of being so vulnerable to a person who could crush your very soul, the soul of a demon blooded Antipope, is not something to take lightly! And it’s NOT like he has had any good role models to show how true love should operate…

To win him over, it would be a good idea to show HIM your vulnerable side first. Kinda like when a cat shows you its belly as a sign of trust. LEt him see the ugly side of you, the insecure- but slowly. Don’t hit him all at once with everything. You have to let Papa come to you. It might take a lot of time this way, but it’s a start- there is a reason he feels more comfortable with submission. It makes him feel so much more secure. Also showing your dedication and love through action and not words will be HUGE! Showing him you can be trusted, that you have a good head on your shoulders, and that you have his best interests at heart. Alternatively, if something life altering should happen to him, you supporting him is the ultimate display of your dependability. If you try to force him at any point he will pull back out of reflex. It’s one of the few times he lets your roles be reversed.

Papa III:

Many would accuse his older brother, Emeritus the II, of being the hardest to make vulnerable- yet many are surprised that it is actually him! But Papa has spent years weaving a huge web around himself. Papa has so many masks and layers to him out of fear that sometimes even he doesn’t know what part of him is genuine or not. He learned from an early age that he was the most emotional, and most likely to get hurt. And let me tell you something, Emeritus the Third is NOT a man who likes the feeling of being hurt emotionally. It’s practically unbearable for him. He already deals with a lot of emotional burdens from feeling as though he were the ‘weak’ one of the Bloodline. Truth be told, he hasn’t had the best relationship with his father, either.

What’s worse? As much as he likes to talk about himself, Papa does NOT like talking about his true issues and anxieties. Papa usually deflects in such subtle ways that those close to him THINK he is being vulnerable, when in truth he is being superficial. So when you hear him complain about how the Ministry treats him, or a minor insecurity brought on by an argument with his brother- you are only scratching the surface. And even if he loves you, Papa does not want you to see that ugly, miserable side of him. He doesn’t even want to acknowledge it himself. If he can barely stand these horrible sides to himself, how does he expect you to stay and accept him?

For Papa III, the key factor would be time and patience. But this is further made difficult with his fleeting interests and inability to commit. The natural way to his vulnerable side is by never leaving his side, assuming he doesn’t forcibly push you away. For example, one of the few who know him deeply is Omega and his eldest brother, Papa I. That’s because they have been around his entire life. Either you would have to be the same, or be there in a huge moment of weakness to have him even remotely come clean.

The best (or in his case, worse) would be you being there at his absolute lowest point. When he’s so far gone in his emotions that he can’t even muster up the energy to put on a show. When he can’t bring himself to be Papa, to be charming- hell even RUDE AND ANGRY. The best example would be like if you were around after he was stripped of the Ghost Project and made a fool out of publically. That was such a horrible time for him and everyone around him. But if you are there with unconditional love and he SEES that you love him through every facet of his identity, he will want to stick close and loyal to you. It will take MORE time, but little by little Papa ends up baring his soul to you. He’d be lying if he said he still wasn’t afraid to confide in you, least you up and leave...

Cardinal Copia/Papa IV:

Copia has struggled with trust nearly his whole life, and ALL of his career in the High Ministry. If we are being honest, as welcoming and loving as the church is, the upper clergy is full of deceit and cutthroat tactics. It’s as competitive and dangerous as any monarchy or noble circles. That’s because within it there is a LOT more at stake. Ministry members have vanished or been found dead thanks to inner politics, and Copia has his share of close calls. He’s had to learn to trust no one but yourself, and never EVER let your guard down too much.

Unfortunately, this does bleed into his personal life. Copia has had his share of bed mates and even lovers that have stuck around longer than anticipated. But long term commitments have been very few and far between. And to be honest, he HAS been burned before. From those who sought to betray him to partners who just DIDN’T LIKE who he really was underneath. Copia has buried that hurt and tried to use it as a reminder of why he needs to keep himself until he makes it to the top. Then NO ONE could hurt him the way they could when he was a mere Ministry member.

Copia has always been really cautious around lovers to the point of paranoia. Where he adamantly refused to let himself be weak at any point! He is always good to them, but is just plain scared of letting his guard down. But the difference between Copia and the rest of the Papas is that Copia CRAVES intimate connection like you wouldn’t believe. Sometimes he desperately wants that stability and trust with another person without fear of repercussion. Copia often feels like he can never have it, and it’s one of the few things he wants almost as bad as the Papacy. But he’s never had time or a chance to- far too much to do and too much to risk!

One of the biggest ways Copia ends up calming down around you and actually opening up is if you have been there for the long run. Especially if you two were some type of couple or close BEFORE he was ever chosen for the Ghost project. Copia needs that undying support and consistency to really warm up to you. If you’ve unconditionally been there from the beginning and have not changed since his Papacy, Copia is nothing but loyal to you in return. Copia is a very good actor, but he will still be skittish and reluctant to talk too much. You just have to be patient with him as he gets comfortable. I promise, he wants nothing more than to trust you completely.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #Ghost headcanon #papa nihil #Papa Emeritus II #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #long post #this is long and im not sorry #character analysis

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mockingjayne12 · 5 years

Text

Take Me Home

(Jamie x Claire / Outlander Fic)

CHAPTER ONE:

Toes wiggle further underneath the blanket, chipped black varnish sinking her deeper into the darkness she sits in. Pale freckles against even paler skin, hip bones jutting out through the sliver of space exposed in the stolen, oversized shirt she drowns in. Half truths burn on her lips, screaming loudly in the settled wine at the bottom of her stomach. Bound coffee stained words rest in her lap, speaking to a universal yearning for something she can’t utter but felt she’d grasped once before, fleetingly slipping through her gold ringed fingers. Grown out, curly, dark fringe lays a veil over pools of blue, blearily leaving an image of what once was, the swirling memory of regret that continues to grow.

“You are my home,” she’d whispered to him, tears having threatened to mix with the beauty disguised as chaos, a breath away from ending them both.

For somewhere, once, she thought she had been truly seen, but found she was soon forgotten.

xxxxx

ONE YEAR EARLIER

Claire sets the plate back down, blowing her curly tendrils away from her forehead, an exasperated sigh escaping along with her patience with this day.

“What’s wrong this time?” She hears Rupert ask, bending to see her through the metal of soon to be waiting dishes, the heat lamp setting off a warmth that only leaves her feeling sweaty, her curls threatening to throw a tantrum along with the customers.

“They want the inside of the bread taken out…’too many calories’,” she says, momentarily ditching her English accent to put on her best impersonation of what she knew to be the typical toned voice that frequented the establishment, with a roll of her eyes, letting Rupert know she thought it was just as ridiculous as the raised eyebrows staring back at her.

She doesn’t miss his murmuring curse, and fights back a laugh - Rupert being one of the few friendly faces that has been around as long as she, working the trenches of customer service day in, day out.

Turning to wait for the remade food, she rests against the counter. It’s a relatively slow day at the restaurant, the lunch crowd having subsided, only the few stragglers, straddling a meal at a time of day that made little sense, but allowing her more time to make a mental list of things she needed to do when she got off. At the top of the list, stop and get cat food before Adso decided to lay claws to the walls in protest of his lack of sustenance.

“I just had a guy tell me he wished I had more Daddy issues so I’d work at a strip club,” Claire’s coworker, Gillian, says with a flourish of her hands.

Claire makes a grimace, her face scrunching up in disgust.

“Not even the worst thing I’ve heard this week,” Gillian says with a shrug, blowing off the comment along with all the others that were meant to go in one ear and out the other, an endless cycle of demeaning words thrown at them, expected to be swallowed with a smile all in the name of “customer service.”

Claire traces the silver line indented on her hand, as the plate of remade food makes its appearance once more, ready to be served.

“Thanks, Rupert,” she tosses over her shoulder at the grisly man, Gillian staying behind, waiting for her.

“So are you doing the catering job tonight,” Gillian throws back at her, as Claire comes back to the cutlery station, meticulously folding forks and knives into linen napkins.

“I don’t think so,” she shrugs, blowing her fringe out of her face once more. An errant curl refusing to submit to her frustration, dangling over her eyes, bouncing with the movement of her head.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Gillian hits Claire’s hip with her side, their heights significantly varied. A raised brow and a quirk of her mouth suggesting there was no way that this party would be fun in the slightest.

“A bunch of rich, entitled people…” Claire starts, only to be interrupted.

“Eating out of the palms of our hands…literally,” Gillian says with a wink.

“I hope not literally,” Claire teases, sticking out her flat tongue.

“Think of the extra money…and you know, if you happen to meet a rich guy that can give you a good fuck,” she says a bit louder than intended, a customer looking up from their meal.

Claire shoots a knowing glance at her friend.

Flashing a smile at the appalled woman, Gillian throws her head back.

“I’m gonna pay for that one,” she says with a shake of her head. “See, now we have to pick it up, because I’m not getting a tip from that prude,” she gestures towards the woman.

“She’s your table, not mine,” Claire says with a smirk. “I’m going to pass,” she says, putting the linen bundles into their bin. “I’ve got a new book and I…don’t do actors,” she says with a huff.

“Come on, I’ll drive, it’ll be…”

“If you say, ‘fun’ I’m definitely not doing it,” Claire warns.

“Fine, it’ll be…monetarily beneficial,” she grins.

xxxxx

The flutes of champagne balance precariously on the serving tray Claire carries with her, her hands attempting not to shake enough that she send the gold liquid onto anyone, but as she scans the room of men who think they hold more power than they do, congratulating themselves on being masters of their craft,women lapping up the chance to be in their presence, she can’t help but picture a slip of the hand that’s not so accidental.

Glancing back, she sees the event coordinator motioning for her to smile, and she turns back, her eyes threatening to roll all the way back into her head.

It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re wearing this uniform, you’re invisible, Beauchamp.

The thought echoing a sentiment that had taken root in her for some time, yanking on a thread that could potentially unravel her ever so carefully constructed shield, whose protection she’d shrouded herself in before facing the day, for without it would leave her bare to the thoughts that would surely leave her with nothing but the ugly truth.

Her finger rubs at her hand, her eyes darting around at the extravagant decor of flowers and crystal jewels, only the biggest and best for, whoever this celebration was for. Another Hollywood party that mattered very little, a host of people begging for the attention that would make a connection, garner them a return for the years of hustle they’d put in. Exhausting. The smiles on their faces were likely as fake as the one she now had plastered to her own face, looking more like a grimace than anything close to resembling happiness, as she offered up more alcohol to people that surely didn’t need anymore courage to make bad decisions.

“Whiskey on the rocks, sweetheart,” she hears behind her, turning around to find a balding man with a graying beard and a sinister grin on his face, suggesting he was a man who always got what he wanted, and as his eyes did a slow once over her, catching on the open button of her shirt, she finds herself wanting to shrink into herself, her hand running over her palm, the bloom of panic tingling, before rising to her full height, which isn’t much shorter than this man, biting her tongue at the urge to tell him to go fuck himself.

“Right away,” she says with a grit of her teeth, quickly turning to head to the bar to grab the request. Giving the bartender the order, the woman looks as irritated as the rest of them, but throws a knowing grin her way.

“Fucking Americans and their ice,” she mutters under her breath.

“Careful, Sassenach, they might hear ye,” the soft bur of an accent sends a jolt through her, causing her to hit the tray, sending the remaining few glasses of champagne everywhere. The shattering of glass attracting the attention of the guests only briefly, a stray comment thrown out about clumsy help hitting its target, before they go back to ignoring her.

“Fuck,” she says under her breath.

Turning quickly, she fumbles to pick up the broken glass, a rise of red lighting her cheeks on fire, incensed with anger and frustration.

Reaching for a piece of glass, she sees the tray in question appear before her, an offering to gather the mess she’d created. Looking up, she sees the man with the voice that had sent her reeling, a mop of curly red hair, looking like it had been attempted to be tamed, but had given up and decided instead to hang in perfect disarray.

“You don’t have to—“ she tries to get out, but he’s already gathered most of the remaining bits of glass onto the tray, peeking at her through his curls she sees a glimpse of blue that seem to pierce her, a flicker of something close to recognition passes through the sea like a wave, gone just as quickly, paired with a grin of understanding bristled in a stubble that begs to prick her finger and break the spell that seems to surround them.

“It’s the least I can do, seeing as it’s my fault,” he shrugs, the grin only growing wider, as he lifts his head, his bent stance has the kilt he’s wearing rucked up to where the muscles in his legs tease her, and she quickly averts her eyes, catching the raise of his eyebrows at having seemingly caught her glance.

“You’re right, it is your fault,” she says, straightening to a stand, and he peers up at her for a second, making her shift nervously from foot to foot before he stands, her eyes catching the glint of a scar contouring his cheekbone in the light. An imperfection that grounds him in reality. She moves to push her hair back from her face, having a hard time reconciling what she must look like next to this man.

She hears his gruff laugh, and swears it vibrates through her chest.

“I uhh, didn’t get you, did I?” She asks, her flustered mind only kicking itself at the excuse to roam over the expanse of his chest, slightly soaked, she immediately turns to grab a napkin on the bar, moving to blot his shirt, pressing gently on his chest, only having it dawn on her that she’s touching him when his hand comes to gently grab her wrist. Her breath momentarily stilted, his fingers warm on her pulse - simultaneously skittering her heart to beat faster while leaving her with a sense of peace, like being held too close to the sun, a tranquil warmth threatening to burst her into flames, she pulls back on reflex, and he lets go, freeing her, instead of keeping hold.

“’Tis alright, Sassenach, a wee bit of spilled alcohol never hurt anyone,” the breath of his words washing over her, and she steps back with the napkin. Her nose scrunching at the derogatory word he kept using like it was an endearment. His smile rises at her blowing a stray curl out of her face. “Especially when it’s champagne, “ he playfully grimaces, clearly not a fan of the bubbly.

“Too true,” she shrugs, turning to grab the whiskey she’d all but forgotten in her haste to completely drown this charming man in her work. Her usual response to flee begins to rise in her - the calm she’d felt in his presence shifting, as the man whose whiskey she held approached the makeshift stage with a microphone. “Ugh, here we go,” she rolls her eyes.

“Not a fan?” He asks, looking amused by her clear disdain.

“The only thing worse than actors are the people in charge of them,” she says, before catching the eye of Gillian, a curious smirk on her face, making her way towards Claire. “Anyway, I hope I didn’t keep you from…whatever it is you’re doing here,” she looks down at his kilt again. “Are you the entertainment?”

His eyes widen at the suggestion before biting back a laugh.

“Something like that,” he says with what she swears is a twinkle in his eye.

“And now help me in introducing the reason we’re all here, actor James Fraser…”

The applause of the entire party seems to grow exponentially around her. Glancing around, she tries to find where the man in question is hiding, until she feels the words whispered in her ear.

“At least I’m not the worst…”

The curly mop of red making his way towards the stage, shirt soaked, kilt swaying with every step, and a smile that keeps glancing back at her.

Bloody Hell, Beauchamp.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie fraser #claire fraser #jamie x claire

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vexvamp · 5 years

Photo

'Cause every night I lie in bed The brightest colors fill my head A million dreams are keeping me awake I think of what the world could be A vision of the one I see A million dreams is all it's gonna take A million dreams for the world we're gonna make

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This art was made to go with my Lion Guard fan theory, which you can read below. Kion was drawn by me, but the background is made up of screenshots from the show.

The following is my fan theory/AU/headcanon, which I came up with to fit the Lion Guard show into the universe of the films. Extra info can be found in the description here . ----- Kiara and Kion were born to King Simba and Queen Nala, shortly after the death of their elder brother, Kopa, and the subsequent exile of Zira and her Outlanders. Though born from the same litter, the two of them couldn't have been more different. While feisty Kiara grew strong and healthy, little Kion struggled just to stay alive. He was weak, grew slowly, and was quick to fall ill. Kion was suffering from something the Pride Lander's called the Fading Sickness, which we know instead as an immunodeficiency disorder. No amount of Rafiki's healing mixtures could cure it, and Simba and Nala prayed to the Great Kings that their son would not go to join his grandfather among the stars. Kion's illness persisted from infancy to cubhood. He was smaller than his sister, underdeveloped, and spent most his time confined to Pride Rock. While Kiara began to explore the Pride Lands, Kion was rarely allowed outside for fear that he would catch sickness or overexert himself. Tensions grew between him and his sister, as Kiara secretly wished that she had a sibling who she could actually play with, while Kion resented the fact that she had all the freedoms he didn't. This would eventually culminate in Kiara wondering into the Outlands and meeting Kovu, and this was enough to shock Simba into action. He asked Nala's brother, Mheetu and his mate to move closer to Pride Rock with their two daughters, so that Kiara would have other cubs her age to play with. Kiara found her cousins, Tiifu and Zuri, a bit hard to relate to, but it was still a better alternative to playing by herself. Kion, on the other hand, usually found himself alone. His parents tried their best to spend time with him, but fear of causing him stress combined with the previous loss of Kopa meant that they often treated him as though he was made of glass. This would create a rift in their relationship and make Kion feel as though he couldn't really connect with them. The isolation, and the fact that he was often too tired to even walk the length of the cave, were wearing away at Kion's mind. The young cub was slowly slipping into a deep depression. It was Rafiki, the healer who was often called to help Kion when he fell ill, that began to tell Kion stories. Legends of the Pride Lands, stories of Kion's ancient ancestors, and tales of all the creatures he never got to see in the outside world. Among those stories were those of the Lion Guard, the band of lions which patrolled the Pride Lands and helped protect the Circle of Life. It was hoped that Kion himself might one day lead them, but his illness was making this seem less and less likely. Still, it gave Kion cause to dream. He fantasized about it as he stared at the paintings Rafiki drew for him on the walls of the cave, and through these fantasies he found an escape. He made friends from the characters on the walls, and envisioned himself as their leader. The birthmark on his shoulder became the Mark of the Guard, and his weak, fragile body was forgotten as he fantasized about his imagined power, the Roar of the Elders. The Roar was part of the legend of the first Guard and their leader, who was said to have a roar so powerful that it was as if all the lions of days past roared with him. Kion turned this legend into something fantastical and grand, imagining himself possessing a power so great it wouldn't matter that he was smaller and weaker than other cubs. These daydreams occupied him, his imaginary friends filling the blank spaces in his life, and he spent his days lost in fantasy as the powerful lion he could never be in the real world. Kion's health had its ups and downs over the years, but as he approached adolescence, he suddenly contracted an illness that he couldn't seem to recover from. His body raged with fever, and the young lion slipped into a near comatose state, lost somewhere between sleep and waking, with the illness pulling him ever closer towards oblivion. In this state his fantasies grew violent, with visions of fiery demons in volcanoes and a scar which corrupted his soul. As Kion's condition worsened, it was decided that he would be taken to Rafiki's tree, closer to the store of healing herbs and away from other lions that might transmit further infection. In his brief moments of consciousness, Kion pulled bits of the real world into his tumultuous fever dreams. Rafiki's tree became the Tree of Life, and paintings on the walls became part of his adventure to reach it. Through Rafiki's treatments, Kion would eventually be saved, but he was still confined to the tree when Kiara first reunited with Kovu, and during the final battle with Zira. He wasn't there to see his sister's wedding, but Kiara and Kovu came to visit him afterwards. Kion tried to be gracious, but couldn't help but feel envious of the happy life his sister was living. He was small, sick, and weak. With only a scrap of mane, he looked much younger than he really was. What lioness would have him? So once again he retreated into his fantasies, crafting a love interest for himself and imagining a happy ending to his story. Kion would return to Pride Rock shortly afterwards, unsure of where his place was in this new, blended pride. Worst of all was what came next, when Kovu's sister, Vitani approached Simba and Nala about the Lion Guard. The current Guard had no formal leader, and was made up of lions who were growing older and getting ready to retire. It was a Guard only in name, without the deep-seated traditions of those led by the relatives of the royal family. As the sister of the new Prince Consort, Vitani put forward that she could lead a new Lion Guard. After the death of her mother, she had found herself feeling a bit hopeless and lost, and thought perhaps this could be her new purpose in life. After all, Kion was far too sickly and weak to have any hope of forming his own Guard, so why not her? Simba said he would think about it, and Nala said that they should talk it over with their son. The king and queen saw sense in what Vitani was saying, thinking it might be a chance to really cement the Outlander's loyalty, but Kion was horrified by the suggestion. Although he knew his health made it unlikely, Kion had always dreamed of leading the Guard someday, and now Vitani wanted to take that away from him. Simba pled for him to see sense, and Nala assured him that he would always have a place in the pride, as a prince and as their son. After some persuading, Kion reluctantly agreed to think it over. In his fantasies he imagined Vitani's 'Guard' trying to challenge him and the imaginary partners he had fought alongside for so long. He drew further back into his dreams, fantasizing about a reality where he was loved and wanted and had a place as the ruler and protector of his own world. In the real world, Vitani seethed with frustration, knowing full well that Kion had no chance of leading the Guard, and angry at having her progress hindered by him. Why did he have to take this away from her? Her mother was gone. Nuka was gone. Her pride was scattered. This was all she had. It was only when Kiara came to her and explained all that Kion had gone through, admitting to her own undesirable feelings of resentment towards her brother, that Vitani began to think differently. Kion had spent his entire life locked away in that cave, with his fantasies about the Lion Guard as his only means of escape. Without the hope that he might one day recover and truly lead the Guard, what was left? What purpose did he have? Perhaps he and Vitani had more in common than she had first thought. Vitani went to Kion and confessed how lost she had felt since her mother died, how everything she thought she knew had crumbled, and she was just trying to find a place for herself in this new world. She said that she knew she couldn't replace Kion as the rightful leader of the Guard, but she would feel honored if he could help her become a leader the Guard could be proud of. Kion was struck by this. So often he had been coddled and treated as though he was too fragile to upset, with his family often reluctant to truly acknowledge his condition and what it meant for him. Something about Vitani's honesty struck a cord with him. He was forced to come to terms with the painful truth, but in so doing he found a sense of clarity. In his heart he knew what he needed to do. Kion agreed to help Vitani put together the new Lion Guard, with her as their leader. But even as leader Vitani came to Kion for advice and for guidance, and through this Kion finally found a sense of purpose. As time passed, Kion began to grow stronger. His maturing immune system gave him greater resistance to sickness and more energy to actually leave the cave which had been his prison for so long. Although he would still have occasional bouts of sickness, he was far more resilient than he had been in cubhood, and could use preventative measures to keep his health in check. He even found he now had the strength to accompany the Guard on the occasional mission, though he was primarily restricted to observation and instruction rather than any sort of physically demanding work. He would never be entirely rid of his condition, but he found a place in his family, in the Pride Lands, and in the Lion Guard.

#The Lion Guard #The Lion King #TLK #TLG #Lion Guard #Lion King #Fan Theory #AU #Alternate Universe #Theory #Fan Art #Kion #Show #Movie #Animated #Cartoon #Series #My Art #VexVamp

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sinsiriuslyemo · 4 years

Text

Dearest Readers,

I know I’ve been absent during this quarantine and for that I’m sorry. It’s been pretty crazy to have to do distance learning with my six-year-old, but we’re getting by. I’ll be honest, I almost messaged the amazing @thefanficfaerie to tell her that I wouldn’t be able to do this, but the more I realized that I hadn’t created in what seemed like forever and thought about how much I missed interacting with you guys on here, the more I wanted to complete this challenge.

So I did what I always do, I sat down with three loose-leaf sheets and played “Penny and Me” by Hanson on a loop until this came out. I didn’t intend to be so on the nose with this one nor did I intend to use our current situation with covid19 in the fic, but here we are. Thank you so so much to @thefanficfaerie for creating this challenge! Also, thank you so much to @italiandoll1129 for betaing this little diddy. I hope you guys enjoy this little imagine and I hope you’re all doing well and staying safe <3

Sinceriously,

Amanda

Your life up to the point when the world stopped had largely been made up of acoustics and half note runs. Countless moments captured in a simple bar, a single verse, a reprised chorus. Music was your lifeblood, the ticking of the muscle that resided deep in your chest and then--just a few short weeks ago--silence. The world stopped turning, life as you knew it upended, and the music in your soul faded without refrain. It seemed survival had been triggered when the governor implemented a stay-at-home order and music became little more than a distant memory of better days.

Rafael had been more than annoyed at the disruption of his carefully crafted schedule, but had it not been for his steadfast reasoning and patience you surely would have sunk deep into the dark, bottomless pit of despair and hopelessness. Your loving, quick-witted ADA was the brain that steadied the storm in your heart. Had it not been for him you surely would have crumbled into a useless mess by day two of quarantine. Not that you weren’t on the edge every second of the day, but at least you were sure that if you did fall apart, Rafael would be there to put you back together again.

You sat on the bumped out window seat in the corner of the living room, pillow in your lap, sipping your mug of home-brewed coffee, staring at the lifeless street below. New York City had never been so quiet, but now all of its residents waited with bated breath for the virus that had halted all to pass. Even the criminal world seemed to be practicing social distancing, though an uptick in domestic violence was certainly keeping Rafael busy. For the creatives of the world, however, the coronavirus seemed to slowly poison the well of inspiration, leaving little else aside from disconnection and isolation despite the countless public figures proclaiming “alone, together.” Or whatever they were saying.

“Mi amor?” You heard Rafael’s voice from down the hall and let your forehead gently touch the cold, glass surface of the window as your eyes closed. “Y/N, we should go to the store today and pick up a few things, what do you think?”

You inhaled through your nose and turned your head to look back at him, offering a weak smile. “Yeah, maybe they’ll have toilet paper this time.” How had toilet paper become more valuable than the dollar bill seemingly overnight?

Closing the distance between the two of you, your boyfriend brought the back of his fingers to your cheek, corner of his lips quirking upward. His touch had always been enough to calm the emotional tornado that stress brewed inside you. Especially lately, you had become acutely aware of his ability to make you believe that everything would be alright.

“This is all temporary,” he would say. It never took very much convincing on his part as long as his skin was making contact with yours.

“We still have plenty for at least a week or two,” he said as he moved to sit on the other side of the window seat, facing you.

Pursing your lips, you nodded. “Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have some extra on hand, just in case.” You tried to leave it at that instead of allowing a worst-case-scenario to form in your mind. The governor’s instructions had been clear: stay home, wash your hands, social distance until the curve flattened, remain calm. Despite your own paranoia, the world was not actually on fire...or if it was at least it wouldn’t be forever, and in truth as long as you had Rafael by your side, all would be well. Though it was times like this that made you wish you believed in God. There were moments when you envied Rafael in that sense; most of all now, when a magical sky-daddy would be a welcomed reprieve from the ever-rising death toll and unemployment rates.

“Honey, we have to stay calm and not panic-buy, okay?” Rafael said, reaching for your hand. “You should try to keep yourself busy. You know how your anxiety gets when you sit still for too long without something to focus on.”

“I know, I just…” You ran a hand through your hair and grimaced when you realized you hadn’t showered the day before. “I can’t slow my brain enough to create anything coherent.”

“So create something incoherent,” he suggested with a bob of his shoulders. “Or, instead of writing music, why don’t you just play some songs you enjoy or learn to play one?” You could sense your lips trying to form a smile as your thumb stroked over the skin between his knuckles. “I just know how important music is in your life. It always makes you feel better.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you said in a whisper as your eyes fell to your joined hands. “Maybe I could go live on Instagram,” you added carefully. “I’ve seen a lot of people talking about how scared they are, too.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I thought we agreed you should stay off social media for now.”

In the beginning of your self-isolation, you spent nearly every waking minute refreshing your Twitter and Instagram feeds, which in turn, had served only to fuel your anxiety and almost caused a panic attack. The logical thing was to avoid social media; the daily press conferences and videos from Philip DeFranco were more than enough to keep you updated on the situation without causing you to cry yourself to sleep because Dr-Random-Twitter-Handle had posted about his hospital’s desperate need for PPE, and how a portion of his staff had become sick, which would convince you that this was in fact the end of the world and there was literally nothing that could be done to stop it.

So yeah, no social media had been the plan.

However, your desire to share music had been a part of you since you could remember, and especially at a time like this, music could be the very thing to soothe people’s fears, even if only a little bit.

“I know but I can’t help but wonder whether playing where other people can hear would help in some small way,” you said.

Rafael lowered his eyes as if in thought, nodding once. “What if you opened the window so the neighbors could hear?” His gaze came back to meet yours. “It’s been pretty quiet the last few weeks.”

It had been quiet in the neighborhood since all the bars and clubs shut down, including Penny and Me’s, the bar just downstairs that normally featured live music, which would fill the entire neighborhood and carry over to the next block. You smiled at your boyfriend.

“You don’t think people might get annoyed?”

“No,” he answered. “I think people are reaching for as many positive things as they can get. And some music, especially when the neighborhood has been so eerily quiet, might be just the thing that makes them feel normal again. Even if it’s only for a moment.”

You eyed your guitar in the far corner of the living room, leaning against the bookcase that held countless escapes into other worlds. Normally when reality came to be too much, a mix of other worlds and strums on your guitar would be enough to keep you from losing it completely. But right then, when the world as you knew it was forever changed, you couldn’t justify leaving it, even to save your sanity.

“And,” Rafael added. “If anyone complains, they’ll have me to deal with.”

You snorted, standing and opening the window before you went to pick up your guitar. Sitting back on the window seat, you took your time tuning it while your eyes periodically wandered, looking for an idea of what song to play. From the corner of your eye, you saw Rafael take out his phone, tap his screen a few times before he held it up. You knitted your brows at him; wasn’t he just trying to talk you out of going live?

“I just realized your family might want to hear you play,” he said as though he’d been inside your head. “What are you gonna play, corazon?”

“I don’t know.” Your gaze fell on the unlit, cursive lettering on the building across the street and the familiar chalkboard by the door that now read, “Stay home. Stay safe.”

With a gentle smile, you began to strum an intro of chords, the beginning of a song that was written strictly as a love letter to music, highlighting the importance of a song in our hearts and how a simple, familiar melody could remind us of our favorite moments in our lives. Music, without which the world would be a much darker place, the one thing that in an instant could heal a hole in your heart, the thing that often formed fond memories of nights up late by the fireplace. Music that could speak for you with such clarity if you had trouble forming words.

“That’s not obvious at all,” Rafael mumbled after hearing you sing the first chorus.

“Hush, you,” you replied quickly, not missing a single strum. “Cause Penny and Me like to roll the windows down…”

As you sang through the full chorus, a second voice joined in from below. Rafael carefully stepped closer to the window, mindful to keep his phone pointed in your direction as he leaned to stick his head out the open square.

“Lawrence?” you heard him call out between lyrics.

“Hey Rafael!” the voice replied. “And Penny and Me like to gaze at starry skies…”

Your ADA chuckled under his breath when a third voice sounded from further down the building, and a fourth from above. By the time you reached the bridge, it was as though half the block joined in. Your focus was on keeping time with your strums against the strings, but your skin had prickled into goosebumps at the sound of your neighbors singing along with you.

For the first time since you’d been stuck inside, it actually felt like despite the fact that you were all self-isolating, none of you were alone. In that moment, the entire block of 82nd street was one, singing through their pain and loneliness, belting their affections for each other simply by joining you in a cover of an early 2000s tune by one of the original popstars of the 90s. Through the final chorus you could hear the longing, the desire to be together truly once again, going to Penny and Me’s for a drink after a long week and weaving in and out of clusters of people on the sidewalk to get home after it got late. It reminded you that New Yorkers were fighters, that you had all seen worse than this pandemic and that one day soon you would be reminiscing about where you were during the 2020 pandemic that had paused the world and forced people to appreciate each other just a little bit more. The time when music, as always, kept you connected while you distanced.

“Do you think this is going to go viral?” Rafael asked no one in particular after you’d played the final chord of the song.

“I don’t think so, it’s a fairly obscure song,” you answered with a grin as you leaned back against the window sill, allowing the breeze to blow strands of hair against your face.

“Still,” Rafael mumbled as he tagged your parents in the post and, at your request, tagged the song and the virus for easy reference if you needed a pick-me-up later in the night. “Okay, I’m gonna head out to the store. Did you wanna come?”

“I think I’m gonna stay here,” you answered, rolling your head to one side until your eyes met his. “I should clean the bathroom...and myself. Then afterward, I might try to work on some more music.”

The smirk you knew all too well flashed in your direction as he closed the space between you to kiss your forehead. “Maybe without the window being open. The neighbors didn’t mind a song they knew, but the last thing we’d want is to disrupt their marathon of Tiger King.”

“Speaking of which, they added an episode,” you said.

“They did?”

“Yep, Carol Baskins isn’t in it though, from what I’ve heard,” you said.

“Fucking Carol Baskins. Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, tops,” he said, going to the door and putting on his coat. “When I get back, I think we should make dinner and watch that episode.”

“And after that?”

He bobbed his shoulders. “You’ve been trying to get me to watch Lost for years. Maybe now is when you do.”

“I don’t know if I wanna watch a show about a plane that disappears to an island no one knows about. We’ll see what my paranoia level is by the time we finish the last Tiger King episode.”

“Well, you know I’ve been dying for you to watch Catch-22,” he replied with a smirk.

You paused a moment, grimacing at the thought of the show adaptation of a Joseph Heller novel that you hadn’t very much enjoyed in the first place. “Lost it is.”

#rafael barba #rafael x reader #aprilchallenge

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