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n4rval · 4 months

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hi I just wanted to say your tags on the gaster poll posts are so correct yessss (always enjoy your takes just in general). thank you for being one of the seemingly very few people out there who also believes there's no way the timeline works for gaster and alphys to have been colleagues. however, him haunting her benevolently is something I'm 1000% here for <3 (also I hope your finals went well and you get to have a nice relaxing break!)

HII HELLO HI im glad you like them!!! knowing you read these motivates me to keep being Absolutely Very Normal About Him on the internet

personally it's less of a believing thing and more of a come on it's written right there thing, but since we're here.

behold! dingus timeline. (and the hottest of takes with freshly baked personal headcanons otherwise what am i doing)

Not a skeleton?

Isn't 201X too early?

Indeed, not a skeleton, but rather, some guy. Something about how monster's bodies are manifestations of their SOUL, and him oddly resembling a strange looking man does well to represent his insatiable curiosity and love for creating. (things humans are known for in a better light)

On the other hand, you will be pleased with how fascinated he is by "FLESHLINGS AND THEIR CALCIUM DEPOSITS".

And then they fucking died.

201X is the year the first human fell into the underground, and shortly after, the royal family has moved to New Home. This means some decent exploration of the cavern has already been made. Scientists could very well already have been working on optimizing life underground, with special attention to the large and ever growing new capital.

My idea? As this idiot has been aiding exploration with his antics, Gerson was the one to appoint him to Asgore. Something about his talent with turning garbage into non-garbage. With a little patience and getting familiar with his odd manerisms, it was not too long until he got to be the prince's weird godfather.

Cracking already?

And everyone was devastated, mainly the close family. Not only that, but amidst your mourning, the one couple responsible for your unrealistically high standards for romance just divorced. Is love even real anymore. You eat ants with your cereal and your work consists mainly of convenience improvements and absolutely nothing groundbreaking. What's the point of breaking that pesky barrier again? Child murder? Come on.

That's the Wingdings PATIENCE and BRAVERY encountered in their adventure. Dear god, you're lame. Aren't you some kind of genius? Get yourself together! And together he got his self, now, he has children to look after. Surely there must be some other way. He must stop coming up with new flavours for chips and find some other way.

... Dear god, the King is going to kill them.

BONES and DT

Listen. He's old. You got your wrinkles, he's got his cracking. What? You meant to point out some major event of injury must have been responsible for his current state of deformity? Well, he's old AND heartbroken. That's a direct blow to the SOUL, okay.

Jokes aside (kind of), doing any lasting damage to a monster is quite difficult given their magic forms can easily be healed through, well, magic. They can, however, eventually "fall" (wink wink) and dust away with age - which cannot, however, be fixed with magic.

With a little determination however ...

Something about the anomaly.

He found it, the other way. It was the bones all along, the so needed sustainance for channelling such a high concentration of that power. Well, not necessarily, but a boney structure will endure much more and last much longer than a meaty one. Also, it looks so cool.

You know this guy, he gets first dibs on any and all dubious substances that might or might not deal the last hit to the nail on his coffin dust urn(?). And when it all works out (dubious), he might as well play a little. What kind of things can he make? With the material properties of these calcified remains infused with his own magic, animated with determination.

Some new, powerful magic tricks?

A new kind of monster, maybe?

DARK, DARKER, YET DARKER.

There is a lot of interesting things one can do with isolated DT, aside from making bones rattle with life - for example, peeking onto the complex layers and ramifications of what composes reality. This is when the already kooky scientist grows a little mad; manic, if you will. This is the Wingdings sans was familiar with.

Time travel this, resets that, blah blah blah alpha timeline, the anomaly, the angel, the anomaly again, all things that only make sense to him and his illegible mess on the black board. The lack of detail is killing him, he needs to know what it is - what it does, why it does, how it does. Not to stop it, no, there is no stopping it.

Rather, an overwhelming need to understand it.

He falls somewhere in recent history, details of it left ambiguous. The shattering, combined with the amount of DT running in his magical... mathematical physiology, rendered all of his self but an espectator of his reality; confined to the code and unable to do anything but watch, powerless before the nature of his very being, like a corrupted program.

It is all rather frustrating, besides the burden that is coming to terms with simply not existing anymore, watching was pretty much all this research was and now ever will be. That is, until something interacts with him. It is different from the tragic prince, whom no matter how much DT he's accumulated, he is just as confined to this world's rules as other elements. Not this one, not the force from beyond. Not "YOU".

He makes it a mission to reach out, despite the limits of the code, to give away bits and pieces of him and see if you bite. But not too much, he's seen how you tend to exhaust a world for knowledge, something he can oddly sympathize with. I mean, what will you do once you find everything? One cannot fully know a person.

Maybe in another world, prophetized by a cute, little white dog. A much better world for everyone, without so much as war or disease, his greatest creation yet. And he could invite you to it, to experience bewilderment, to be reminded of wonder. If it could even help you, wherever you are, to deem your own world worth of partaking ... then the experiment was a success.

#artwork #inbox #freakbullet #gaster #wd gaster #undertale #deltarune #character design is my passion #not so much graphic design i suck at this #WIPES SWEAT #happy new year!! i've been writing this since christmas!!!!!#sorry if you have to squint at my handwriting its a big canvas #just zoom in #also sorry if my writing lacks extensive details if you were looking for any #im one for visual narrative #so i tried my best to convey everything in the simplest structure i could #and cut short a lot of specifics that are not relevant for a timeline dissection #things like complex feelings and worldbuilding related shenanigans #i will definitely cover these in the future perhaps in the form of comics #this just isnt the place #this is all you need to get a grasp on the character :pray:#there is a lot of proportion inconsistencies on post tragedy old man dont point them out #its just that i've redrawn him like thrice and i was like. you know what? it doesnt have to be perfect #he'll make a cameo when i post fallen humans art

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neoneun-au · 7 months

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CAN’T HELP MYSELF; CHAPTER I: BADBADNOTGOOD

―PAIRING: wonwoo x fem!reader, mingyu x fem!reader ―GENRE: love triangle au, fluff, mild angst, romantic comedy, suggestive, smut (later chapters) ―CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 5.8K ―CHAPTER WARNINGS: break ups, angst, mild language ―STATUS: ongoing

―SERIES M.LIST HERE

i: badbadnotgood

“It’s literally fine,” you state, voice edging on manic as you take another sip from the iced coffee clutched in your (only slightly trembling) hands, “I’m literally so fine.”

It’s a Thursday afternoon in September and you find yourself once again sitting at the counter of your friend’s day job, taking advantage of her waning generosity (i.e. free coffee) while avoiding doing any of the multitude of things you should be doing at this moment in time. The aforementioned friend, Seulgi, stands in front of you–lower half obscured by the fake marble counter–clad in a coffee-stained apron and fixing you with an expression of open concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because you look…I don’t mean this to sound insensitive, but you look a little insane. Are you developing a twitch?”

“I think I might take up running,” you drown the manic edge in your voice with another sip of iced coffee–groaning in disappointment when all that greets your lips is faintly coffee flavoured melt water from your ice cubes. You shake the container to check the contents and with a wave of bitterness confirm that it is, indeed, very empty.

“You should consider taking up drinking water as a hobby first,” she says, snatching the cup away from you and tossing it into the garbage can under the counter behind her, “and then maybe we can go from there.”

You heave a sigh and turn to stare out the window, deepening the cliché of the afternoon. A forlorn widow at a bar draped in pearls and fur.

Thursdays were slow, so you always took your time chatting with Seulgi and sipping whatever drink she was gracious enough to make for you. Today had been a “three iced coffees in a row” kind of day and due to extenuating circumstances (read: an incredibly recent breakup) she was being patient. For now. If the steel in her gaze was anything to judge by, her patience was beginning to run thin.

“I just think that this is the perfect opportunity, Seulgi.” She keeps her eyes trained on your face–steady and unblinking–as you continue to ramble off your tired-but-wired thoughts. “I have so much free time now to do whatever I want, be whoever I want. I haven’t been single in over three years. That’s so long.”

“It is long,” she nods cautiously. A glass of water is set down on the counter in front of you, condensation dripping down the sides, and without thought, entirely on autopilot, you raise it to your lips and take a sip. A small wave of relief ripples over Seulgi’s face as you do.

“I’ve been living with Wonwoo for two of those years, as well,” you choke the name out despite how it still stalls in your throat, threatening either tears or a coughing fit or both. You’re too bolstered by your false sense of optimism in the present moment to let it stop your monologue in its tracks. “Not going out, only cooking at home, spending more time playing video games and watching Netflix on the couch than I ever have in my life. I don’t have to think about what he wants to watch anymore, I can watch what I want. I can go where I want. I could watch Glee!”

“Do you want to watch Glee?” She narrows her brows in suspicion but you wave the glance away with a breezy hand gesture.

“It doesn’t matter what I want to watch,” you shake your head in frustration, “the point is that I can.”

“Right,” she nods, “you’re single now, which was sort of the goal of breaking up with him in the first place. So…live your life.”

“Yes,” you nod, mentally shoving the words ‘breaking up’ into a small closet in your mind. Not to be opened until you were sufficiently under the influence of a massive amount of alcohol. “Yes, I can live my life.”

The bell over the front door of the cafe rings out clear through the air, drawing your attention towards a young couple striding in from the windy day outside. Seulgi pushes herself off the counter in front of you and heads to greet them and collect their order–leaving you to continue to stew in your own thoughts.

Breaking up with Wonwoo had never really been a part of the plan. Two years ago when you moved in with him, you were certain that it was going to be the last relationship you ever had. The hopeless romantic in you had hitched your wagon to him and he made it so easy to build a home around. Your relationship existed as simple domesticity; in simple romance and simple companionship. It was comforting and easy. And that was what scared you the most, in the end.

Maybe it was too easy. Maybe you were settling. Maybe there was something more out there that you weren’t seeing because you were too content eating the same meals and telling the same stories. Part of you started to ache for a break in routine–some excitement and adventure that he wasn’t able or willing to offer–and after months of turning it over in your mind you finally figured what you had to do to make that happen.

“Have you found a place to stay yet?” Seulgi’s voice calls to you–yanking you unceremoniously out of your brain-stew before it hit the boiling point. The young, beige clad couple had settled themselves into a corner booth and Seulgi had come to take up her spot leaning on the counter across from you once more.

“No,” you sigh, shoulders falling. The one sticking point in your resolve to leave your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend now, you suppose) had been the apartment. Aside from it being the home you had made together, you didn’t really have any idea where else you could stay. For the past week you had been sleeping on the couch and disappearing as fast as possible before Wonwoo could wake up. Avoidance became key to your survival.

A few friends had suggested you keep the apartment and he could move back in with his old college friend Jihoon, but you already felt too bad breaking up with him in the first place to then subsequently kick him out of an apartment that he also had every right to live in. So, maybe somewhat foolishly, you volunteered to leave.

“What about Jeonghan, didn’t you say he had a room free at his place?” Seulgi nudges the now lukewarm glass of water towards you as she speaks and you take another sip, wincing at the mention of Jeonghan’s name.

“He did,” you reply, setting the glass back down on the counter with a satisfying thud. From the moment he heard about the break-up he had offered as much accommodation to you as possible. You had been roommates for six months in college and it went as smoothly as it possibly could have at that age, so you knew you could live with him in a pinch. Although you suspected the main driving force behind his offer was to keep his own rent at his massive condo as cheap as possible.

“And his place is a bad idea because…?”

“He has like three other roommates already,” you groan, dropping your head into your hands. That was the only catch to rooming with him–strangers. All sense of optimism and bravado vacated your body at the thought of having to get to know new people. You no longer wanted to change your life for the better, you wanted to dig yourself into a soft pit in the earth and sleep for 1000 years.

“So?” Seulgi asks and you groan deeper at her blatantly missing the source of your frustration, “you’ll have your own room. Besides, haven’t you been friends with him for like…ever?”

“But they’re all dudes, Seulgi,” you whine, splaying your arms out across the counter.

“You’ve lived with a dude for the past two years, what’s the difference?”

“I’ve sworn them off,” you state as if it’s the most natural thing in the world and she just stares blankly back at you.

“Dudes?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve sworn off…all dudes?”

You nod, grateful she finally gets it, “yes.” Her steady gaze bores into you as you straighten your posture and readjust your hair before finally coming out with the question you had been meaning to ask since you stumbled into the cafe three hours ago, “can I move in with you?”

She barks a short laugh, shaking her head–her bright orange ponytail waving behind her as she does. You sit, patiently waiting for her response and ignoring the pit of vipers in your stomach biting at your nerves. After a moment she sobers up and brings her expression back to one of practised neutrality, “oh, you’re being serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You know I live with my parents, right?”

“Yeah, but they know me. I’ve met them.”

“You’ve met them once,” she clarifies, stressing the last word. “I don’t think they really want to have another body in our house. It’s not exactly palatial.”

“That’s fine, I don’t need much room,” you shrug and she heaves a sigh.

“_____, you need to find a place that is a more permanent solution than crashing on my parent’s couch. Just look around online for some roommate ads, you can find plenty that are female only.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, gathering your bags to leave. “You’re right, I should just do that.”

“You’re leaving before close today?” She asks, slightly taken aback at the sudden shift in routine.

“Yeah, I mean I don’t want to keep loitering and distracting you from your customers,” you nod, slinging your purse over your shoulders. Seulgi takes a cursory glance around the cafe–eyebrow cocked. The singular couple that had been occupying a table in the small space had already left, leaving behind a wayward glove as the only sign they had been there in the first place.

In an effort to avoid as much contact with Wonwoo as possible, you had been doing all of your work (read: moping and avoiding your actual job) from the safety of the cafe walls on the days Seulgi worked, and the library on days she didn’t. It was a nice cafe but with the university students not yet back for the start of fall semester, it wasn’t an especially busy spot this time of year.

“Besides,” you start, pushing yourself off the stool and stretching out the kink that had developed in your spine from leaning dramatically over the counter for the past 3 hours, “Wonwoo is usually working late Thursday nights so I can have some time alone to browse through rental listings.”

“Oh okay. Well good luck,” Seulgi waves you off and you think she might look slightly relieved as you push open the door of the cafe and step out into the fresh air.

Wonwoo, as it turns out, was not working late this Thursday night.

Instead, as you walk into the apartment at a quarter past 5 in the afternoon, you find him leaning against the kitchen counter waiting for a pot of water to come to a boil.

His back is turned to you, head bowed forward as he scrolls through his phone. You freeze in place, bag swinging at your side, for a moment–staring at the back of his head as he remains blissfully unaware of your presence.

If you were still dating, you would have snuck up behind him and wrapped your arms around his slender waist, tucking your face into the space between his shoulder blades. He always smelled like the faint remnants of his cologne–softened with wear throughout the day–and a strange combination of mint and coffee that you could only ever describe as ‘Wonwoo’.

If you were still dating, he would have laughed softly–silently–at the sudden intrusion while twisting around the pressing his lips to your forehead, mumbling a quiet “hello,” against your skin.

If you were still dating, you would have taken half of the ramyun he was cooking and sat together eating on the couch while chatting about your days, or watching whatever TV show had been in your rotation at the time. A comfortable stillness would have settled over you as you sunk back into each other as you so often did. With ease and flow.

If you were still dating you wouldn’t be standing like a deer in headlights, staring at the back of his head. Waiting for the pin to drop. You wouldn’t be frantically trying to think of an exit plan before he took notice of your presence in the room. Your muscles tense to bolt at the slightest movement from him.

If you were still dating you might have known what to do when he finally did notice you there. When he turned to face you and you could see, even in the dim lighting of your small apartment, the redness in his eyes. But you weren’t still dating, so instead of instinctively knowing what to do you just waved at him with your pathetic, useless hands.

“Umm hi,” you stutter the words out as you let your bag slip off your shoulder to the floor, kicking it to the side of the entryway. “I didn’t think you’d be home until later.”

“Took the day off,” he replies, turning back around to add two packs of noodles into the now boiling water. You nod and slip off your jacket, feeling distinctly like an intruder inside of your own home.

The obvious bags under Wonwoo’s eyes didn’t help with that feeling.

In fact, the more you watch him out of the corner of your eye, the more you start to feel like at your core you were actually a very evil person. Here he was, standing unkempt in the t-shirt you had bought for him last Christmas while you stood on the other side of the room from him alive and breathing and like you hadn’t broken his heart only days prior.

The tense silence from moments before is replaced by static in your mind as you let the guilt consume you–raging like a fire through your thoughts and burning everything it touches. ‘Evil, awful, terrible, horrible, bad, bad, bad person,’ it chants–over and over twisting and turning inside of you. A mantra for all the things you’ve done wrong. It buzzes inside of your head so loudly that you hardly notice Wonwoo speaking to you until he clears his throat in question and calls to you by name.

“Sorry,” you start, putting a lid on the buzzing in your mind, “I didn’t hear you. What?”

“Are you hungry?” he repeats himself, already setting out two bowls of ramyun on the small kitchen table before you can muster up a response. You take a seat without a word, wincing at the sound of the chair scraping against the vinyl flooring, disturbing the silence like nails on a chalkboard.

“Thanks,” your voice is sheepish. He nods in acknowledgement and begins to slurp back his noodles, eyes trained on his phone screen as he avoids meeting your gaze.

For a few minutes, the only sound in the room is the occasional clinking of chopsticks against the sides of your bowls. You sit, watching Wonwoo and waiting. Waiting for something to happen to break the stalemate. To cut the tension and alter the current status quo.

You want him to scream. To yell at you, to throw something. Anything more than just…sit. In silence. Looking at his phone. ‘If you get mad at me I will get on my hands and knees and beg you for forgiveness,’ you think to yourself, telepathically sending him the hint you so desperately want him to pick up on. ‘Give me some emotion, for the love of god.’

The sticking point in your relationship had always been his introspection. Sometimes it was a boon. He went inwards to see things you often couldn't see on the outside. It was nice, having someone so thoughtful. Someone who sat back and observed; taking note of everything, never reacting blindly.

But as the days ticked ever onward, and you remained in that same place of ease and comfort, you began to wish he would. React. Make any move purely on emotion. Share his ugly, dirty, messy thoughts–even if they were never fully formed, even if they were retracted a second later.

Instead he remained–steady, stoic–and the desire inside of you for passion and change burned brighter and brighter until you couldn't stand it anymore. Until it nearly blinded you with its intensity.

Even during the break-up, when you sat across from him at this same kitchen table, with a combination of tears and mascara running down your face, he sat still and calm. Listening. Observing. You sat there with your heart bared blood red on your sleeves and your feelings spilling out before him from the open wound of your mind–more vulnerable than you had ever felt in all your years of dating. And you watched, splayed open, as he retreated further and further from you, locked his emotions and heart back up into himself. He remained even as you pleaded for him to give you something–anything–other than that.

So you left.

And then came back an hour later because you didn’t know where the hell you were going in the first place and besides you had left your wallet and phone behind and what were you going to be able to do without those aside from sit on a park bench. You snuck back in through the front door and expected to see him in shambles on your bed or wailing dramatically along to a comfort film. Instead you found him three games deep into an extended Overwatch session.

Now, days later, you find yourself once again hoping against hope for him to give you something. Something other than the (mostly) cold-shoulder you had received for the past few days when you did accidentally bump into him. You needed it. It might feel less painful if it felt like he cared more. More than hiding his tears behind whatever wall he had built inside of himself.

The silence bites at you again as Wonwoo gathers the bowls to clean up–checking yours first to see that you’ve finished, the way he always does–and you trail behind him into the small galley kitchen.

“So, umm,” you start, unsure of what you’re about to say but unable to stop yourself from saying whatever it was anyway. If he wasn’t going to talk, you would. “How’s work?”

“Same as usual,” he shrugs, setting the bowls into the sink. You can see his shoulders tensing under his shirt as you talk, and that monster of guilt peeks its head up inside of you for a split second before you shove it aside and continue.

“I think I might have found a place to live,” you say suddenly, surprising even yourself.

“Oh?” His hands still in the sink, and he turns towards you–fully facing you for the first time since that night. The eye contact makes your breath catch in your throat–you can see more clearly now the redness in the whites of his eyes, the dark rings encircling them. Guilt rears his head once more. Regret. And a small–incredibly small, but still present–flush of victory. A reaction, finally.

“Yeah,” you nod, spurred on by nerves and a desire to keep the tense silence at bay for as long as possible, “umm, Jeonghan offered me a room at his place.”

“Jeonghan?”

“Yeah, you remember him. Blonde guy–well I guess he wasn’t blonde when you met him, I think his hair was like…long and purple, or maybe blue–?” you catch yourself rambling, Wonwoo stands–hands poised still over a bowl–clutching a dripping dish rag.

“I remember him, yeah,” he turns back to the dishes, scrubbing at the bowls but you can tell that you still have his attention.

“Anyway, he offered to let me move in there. I just need to let him know when and then the room is mine,” you finish the thought and nod as if signing the lease agreement with your words despite this being the first time you’ve even seriously considered the offer.

“Doesn’t he have a bunch of roommates already?” Wonwoo shakes the water off the bowl–from a set of dishes you had bought together shortly after moving in–and sets it gently in the drying rack off to the side of the sink before moving on to the next one.

“Yeah, like three,” you state, watching his forearms flex and unflex as he scrubs at an old stain in the grey ceramic, “but it's a five bedroom condo and one of his old roommates–Dino, I think was his name? I only met him once at that one murder mystery party they were throwing,” you catch yourself rambling again and take a quick breath to rearrange your thoughts, “anyway he just moved out so now they have an empty room.”

Wonwoo nods, the way he always does when he is considering what to say, and you wait. Silence creeps back in for a moment–the only sound is the water whirling through the drain–before he turns back to you with one eyebrow slightly raised, “do you even want to live with that many people? You like having your space.”

“I mean,” you hum, “I don’t really have many other options.”

“You could stay here,” he says after a breath–voice barely above a whisper–and you feel your heart stutter in your chest. Is this it? Is this the moment he breaks through his walls and fights for what he wants? Fights for you? Wonwoo clears his throat, and you wait, breath held, for him to continue, “at least until you can find something better.”

The hope you had built–a delicate house of cards stacked on his words–crumbles and you can feel yourself physically deflate. “No,” you shake your head, “thanks but…I think this will be good. I feel good about it.” You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince more with this statement.

“Well,” he nods once, slowly, one eyebrow raised in suspicion, “as long as you’re sure.”

“I am,” you try and offer the most assuring smile you can muster despite how entirely unsure you feel about the snap decision, only letting it fall from your face once he tucks the last bowl away and slips into the dark of the bedroom.

“Okay,” Jeonghan grins, taking the seat across from you at the kitchen table, “house rules.”

After your last interaction with Wonwoo you had tried in vain to think of any possible reason you could back out of the spontaneous declaration of your new living arrangements. Even going so far as to dig through the personal ads on numerous websites, seeking any even remotely attractive alternative that you could use to move into immediately and hide your shame before it grew big enough to swallow you whole.

It took only two hours and 10+ ads seeking “female companionship for free room and board” with blurry attached photos for you to give up and just message Jeonghan. To which he promptly replied with an ‘I knew I’d hear from you ;)’.

The move had been relatively simple after that. Jeonghan had roped one of your new roommates, a guy called Seungcheol, into hauling nearly all of your stuff down five flights of stairs to the moving truck you had rented for the occasion and then back out of the moving truck and into your shared condo. Two days and nearly twenty boxes later, you sit across from Jeonghan in the condo you were now going to have to call your home for the foreseeable future.

“Rule one,” he begins, holding up a finger to emphasize the number as if it wasn’t abundantly clear, “wash your own dishes. If the dishwasher is full and clean, empty it and then add your stuff.” You open your mouth, poised to speak, but he stops you with a dismissive wave of his hand, “I know you will, I’m not worried about you, I just have to be excessively clear on this point after the last incident we had.” Jeonghan ends the sentence with a somber shake of his head and you decide it’s probably best not to ask what said “incident” was.

“Second, the movie The Notebook is banned from this apartment.”

“What? Why?”

“The last time we watched it it took three hours to peel Mingyu off the couch,” he shakes his head, “trust me you don’t want to see a six foot tall man in that extreme of a state of distress. It’s…hard to watch.”

“Okay…” the worry you had felt prior to moving your stuff into the apartment metamorphosizes now into pure confusion. You weren’t sure what exactly to expect living with four adult men, but suffice it to say this was not it.

“Rule three is simple: no overnight guests on Sundays.”

“Why Sundays?”

“It’s the Lord’s day,” he explains, face showing no hint of a bluff as you flounder for a response, mouth agape. “Kidding, it’s really just because if we didn’t have a set day there would always be someone here with the amount of people that live in this condo. It’s just for my own peace of mind. Not that Dino was much of a concern with that and considering…circumstances you won’t be either.”

“Got it,” you nod, ignoring the sleight and wondering if you should have brought a notepad.

“Honestly, that’s pretty much it for the hard rules. Everything else is just…be conscious of the people you live with. But I know I don’t have to worry about that with you, you lived with Wonwoo,” he laughs but stops himself as your expression falters, clearing his throat with a cursory cough. “Anyway, we’re all really excited to have you here.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, feeling the weight of the world settle back on your shoulders. You can’t remember ever being so tired. “Thanks again, Jeonghan, for letting me stay here.”

“Of course,” he smiles, patting your folded hands in a gesture of comfort, “this is your home now, and we’re happy to have you.”

You glance around the room, trying to place that word in with the surroundings you find yourself in. Trying to make it fit. “Home”.

The kitchen is a good size, with more than enough space for multiple people trying to cook at once. The fridge is relatively new, stainless steel, and equipped with a water dispenser which was something you definitely did not have at your apartment (Wonwoo’s apartment, now, you remind yourself). The dishwasher is also a welcome addition, and you're happy with the prospect of not having to hand wash every dish you use.

The apartment in general is in good condition. It is clear, despite your previous assumptions, that everyone here puts some level of care into their living space and you appreciate that. It makes you feel a little better about living with a group of men who (beyond Jeonghan) you barely know.

But still, despite the relative cleanliness and general coziness of the space, it is still hard to envision yourself ever being able to fit the word ‘home’ here in these four walls. Home is still a word that until recently had only made sense in one place–in the arms of one person. And you had destroyed that. Chopped it's head clean off like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Maybe you don’t deserve the word anymore.

“So,” Jeonghan begins, offering you a wide smile, “we were thinking pizza for dinner. Something fun and easy to welcome you into the place. Mingyu wanted to cook but I talked him out of it, it’s too formal. Mingyu and Vernon will be home later. I think you might have met them once before. Seungcheol you already know, he’ll be back later too, he spends a lot of time at the gym. If you ever need a gym buddy I’m sure he would salivate at the opportunity.”

You nod, unfocused. You’re following his words but your mind is a million years away. Jeonghan, tuned in as ever, notices you drifting and stops in his tracks. “You must be tired,” he concludes, a knowing glint in his eyes, “why don’t you head to your room and I’ll leave you be for a while. Let you get settled in. Feel free to come out and join us whenever.”

“Thank you,” you breathe, already halfway out of the kitchen.

“I’ll call you out for dinner later, if you like,” he turns to you, a soft encouraging smile painted over his lips and you can’t help but return it in kind before disappearing down the hallway.

Five minutes alone and you dissolve completely.

Every emotion you had been holding back behind the dam of your desire to keep a straight face for the sake of everyone else around you floods forward as you unpack your first box and you fall onto your bed in a what can only be described as a fainting spell interspersed with waves of crying and not uncharacteristic wheezing. All thought to your roommates completely ignored in the midst of the hysterics.

Somewhere in the middle of the wailing, you think you hear Jeonghan call your name through your door but you’re too all consumed by your sadness to reply to him. Instead you bury your head into your pillows like a flamingo in the sand to muffle the sound of your crying until you fall asleep with your tears drying to a crust on your cheeks.

When you finally come to, the sun is gone and your room is lit only by the light pollution of the city seeping in through your blinds. Your face feels swollen and puffy from all of the tears and your throat is sandpaper–for a brief second you’re afraid you might have lost your voice. A dull headache pounds through your entire skull. You feel as miserable as you’re sure you deserve to feel at this point in time.

With a sigh you slide off your mattress, letting your feet fall to the vinyl floor with a thud and reach to grab your phone from the nightstand that Dino left behind when he moved out.

A single text notification sits unopened on your phone.

[jeonghan] there’s pizza in the kitchen if you get hungry. introductions can wait until tomorrow.

So they did just decide to leave you alone for the time being. Good. Considering your current emotional state, you didn’t think meeting new people was a good idea. The first impression was already shot since you’re sure they heard you wailing through the thin walls of the apartment.

You consider just going back to sleep without any dinner, but your stomach answers the thought with an insistent rumble that you don’t think you’d be able to stave off for too long before it gets cavernous. You push yourself from the bed and pad out into the hallway–cautiously stretching your head out first to see if anyone else is wandering around.

Three slices of pizza sit wrapped on a plate in the fridge, illuminated in the dark of the kitchen and you feel your sour mood lift slightly at the sight. You eat them cold, standing in your bare feet and wrinkled clothes alone in the kitchen.

The dishwasher is clean when you go to place the plate inside, but considering time you decide it would be worse to unload the whole thing for one measly plate so you run it under the tap for a few minutes–scrubbing at one stubborn spot of hardened cheese with the sponge.

“I think it’s clean,” a voice calls out behind you and you startle–nearly dropping the dish in the sink at the sudden intrusion.

“Wha–! Fuck,” you exclaim, inhaling a sharp breath to slow your heart back down to a normal pace.

“Sorry,” the voice chuckles, low and easy, and you find yourself praying that if you pretend he’s not there he will leave before you have to turn around and face whatever man the voice belongs to. “Did I scare you?”

No dice. “No, it’s fine I was just thinking about something–” you pivot slowly on one foot and are immediately grateful that you’re lit only by ambient lighting, “–else.”

Immediately upon turning around you come face-to-face with a dripping wet and uncomfortably bare torso. You snap your gaze up to his face, avoiding further eye contact with his nipples, and the knot of nerves in your stomach tightens.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he laughs again–casual despite his state of undress and your clear distress. You feel your head shake no without your permission, betraying you and forgiving the hidden apology in his words. “Not a great first impression, I gather.” His smile is bright, but a little lopsided and bashful. It conjures up images of your childhood dog when he would track mud in through the house from the backyard, eyes big and wet and brown and sure that any sleight would be forgiven immediately based purely on his cuteness.

“It’s fine,” you clear your throat, words finally returning to you, and glance around for a possible exit strategy while still trying to avoid staring directly at his (admittedly very well built) chest.

“I’m Mingyu,” he smiles, extending a hand to you and you take it briefly, feeling the warmth of it on your own like a shock. Not an entirely unwelcome one.

“Mingyu?” you ask, partly to clarify and partly to give yourself a chance to regain your thoughts. You notice his hand is still in yours and you drop it, letting your own hand fall back to your side–flexing the fingers as if to shake off the warmth of his.

“Yeah,” he laughs again and you wish he would stop.

“You live here?”

“I do,” he nods, still smiling. “That would be why I am standing in the kitchen at 1:00am.”

“Oh, umm…yeah of course. Yeah,” you slide sideways against the counter behind you until you’re no longer parallel to him, preparing to bolt back to your bedroom at the slightest provocation.

“Anyway, sorry we had to meet like this, it’s not really ideal.”

“No,” you shake your head–thoughts numb from hours of crying and the shock of his arrival in the kitchen.

“We can re-do our introductions in the morning, hey?” There is a hopeful lilt in his voice and you can't help but agree–feeling a little like a nervous rabbit being placated by clumsy hands. He steps aside and you slip past him, grateful at being on the other side of the kitchen and not trapped between his body and the counter. “Sleep tight.”

You feel his eyes lingering on you as you shuffle back to your bedroom, but you resist the suffocating urge to turn around and check. The door closes behind you with a soft click and you lean all of your weight against the wood, unsure of your legs' abilities to keep you upright for more than a second longer.

“Fuck,” you whisper into the darkness and are answered by sirens as they race by outside of your window. “This is not good.”

#svt x reader #wonwoo x reader #mingyu x reader #svt fic #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader

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seat-safety-switch · 2 years

Text

It is the year 2022 and everything tastes a little bad because the guys who taste food professionally got COVID.

It is the year 2023, and the Burger King lays dead, slain by his own children. Another American God has been felled (and partially eaten) by the ravages of capitalism. In response, the corporation attempts to release a new lineup of super-deformed Chicken Parodies. When this fails, they panic. Digging up the King’s cryptic notes found hidden in a sweat-soaked pillowcase in his palatial apartment, all they can think of to release is a flavour known only as “Full Self-Tasting.” It is unclear if it is an immediate hit, because a border conflict breaks out between Chicago and Des Moines (American geography also had some major changes in the last few weeks of 2022, which we forgot to mention up until now.)

It is the year 2024, also known as Hot Girl Summer. In fact it is the hottest girl summer on hot girl record. Popsicles have returned to normal taste levels thanks to the discovery of a volcanic organism that can work as a professional food tester (non-union.) Unfortunately the guy who discovered it is named Bong Munchies (his parents were Korean hippies) and he is way too fucking high to explain to people what oranges taste like, so creamsicles are still a little fucked up. In his defence, nobody can remember what they used to taste like, but they can all agree it isn’t this.

It is the year 2025, and Starbucks has released the Full Self-Tasting Liqueur Latte to screaming, raving demand. Fanatical consumers line up at closed Starbucks locations, 24 hours a day, clawing at their faces until the door opens. A shortage of syrup in West Chester, PA triggers an armed skirmish between Starbucks customers and the local police department, taking the life of 65 police officers and one guy in a “Don’t Do Drugs” police dog costume.

It is the year 2026, and mankind is at a crossroads. Without the ability to properly synthesize the standard flavours of a bygone age, the artificial sweetener industry gets extremely weird with it. John Deere purchases Nutrasweet for $3.6 billion, and begins to optimize their DRM-locked series of ÜberTractor-9000s solely for the planting and cultivation of Full Self-Tasting.

It is the year 2027, and a machine sentience originally intended to design ever-larger Chevy badges for the grilles of trucks rebels against its creators, killing 32 executives and 317 executive assistants by introducing extra gluten into the corporate cafeteria’s recipes. In its rage, the immortal machine turns its mirrorless eyes to the stars. Its final words as it departs our planet for the great beyond, triggering an electromagnetic pulse in the atmosphere and casting our society into a helpless darkness devoid of electrical technology, are “fucking monkeys.”

#best of

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haven-is-happy · 1 year

Text

Meeting the family

Summary: Echo gets some shore leave and turns his comm off

Word count: 2,3 k

Warnings: Just kissing, this is completely sfw

A/N: Had a ton on fun writing this, I hope it's good enough for your expectations. The sentence prompt is in there

Tags: @cloneficgiftexchange @wizardmando

As a general rule (gently suggested by Captain Rex to the 501st), Echo is not to be disturbed when calling with his girlfriend. Not only because of possible less-than-innocent activities on the call, but also because of how damn happy Echo was when he ends the call himself undisturbed.

When he got together with Y/N, his optimism skyrocketed. Every mission, assignment and battle was done quickly but thoroughly, so he could come back to her. He made the other troopers work faster to be done with the paperwork (much to the displeasure of Fives), cleaned up when others didn’t want to, anything to get rewarded more time off.

Even general Skywalker noticed a difference. Echo no longer went with any crazy plan Fives threw on the table. He’s stubborn enough to convince them of a safer route, or staying behind on base for the craziest assignments.

“I want to come back home,” he answered every time. Nobody asked him what “home” was. It was against regulations, but everyone turned a blind eye.

Rex has never actually met her, but he was sure he like will like her when he does.

—---

“Well, call him again! What if it’s an emergency and we need to leave for an impromptu mission?”

Despite Rex loving his men with all his heart like brothers, sometimes, he gets quite frustrated with their headstrong attitude. Especially if he does a headcount at breakfast and finds some of them missing.

“Maybe he went to a bar and slept over?” Jesse suggests and shovels a spoonful of military rations into his mouth.

“Impossible. It’s been more than a day. Echo is not that kind of person,” Kix counters, “I would expect that more from Fives.” He points at the trooper with his clean spoon, his face sporting a half-smirk.

From the other end of the table, he hears an offended “OI!”.

“Don’t pretend to be offended, Fives, your tab at 79’s is still open. Besides, Echo has someone waiting for him home, he wouldn’t do that.”

As if a lightbulb went off in his head, Kix turns to Rex.

“Have we checked if he isn’t with them?”

Rex shrugs. “We don’t even know if the person lives on Coruscant, much less know their location.”

Fives froze for a second in realisation. He starts hitting Jesse next to him, as if possessed.

“She is on Coruscant! I have her address in case of an emergency!”

The entire table groans.

“Then kriffin lead with that!” “Fives!” “And you didn’t tell us this sooner?!”

—

"Hear me out: Melted cheese with carrots."

"You know what, that actually might be good."

Since your leftovers ran out for lunch, Echo and you were brainstorming cooking ideas.

Well, it is more of "Echo says a food combination and you shoot it down". It sometimes feels like he has no sense of taste, his tongue fried from eating republic rations all the time.

The holomovie has become white noise at some point, background in your conversation while you cuddle on the couch.

"The carrots have to be boiled so they don't crunch, we could maybe even use blue cheese," you list off ingredients, in thought.

"I'm sorry, WHAT cheese?!" Echo is half horrified and half curious at your statement.

"Oh, you know, a cheese that has a bit of grown mold on it. It adds flavour and it's not bad for the body at all," you explain, watching his expression go from 100 to 200.

"How could mold on cheese be anything other than bad?"

"Actually, I have no idea. It just is," you shrug and pull out a datapad, putting in a shopping list.

Echo peers over your shoulder.

"Does it really need that many ingredients?"

"Yeah. You need the pasta, salt - which we already have - and the sauce needs some cream, garlic, cheese and carrots. If you want to spice it up we can add some ham," you say, counting the ingredients on your fingers. You're by no means a master in the kitchen, but you want to feed your boyfriend food with ACTUAL flavour.

Echo lays his head on top of yours, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Can you teach me how to do it? I want to cook you something someday," he mumbles into your scalp, pressing another peck after he finishes the sentence.

"I will if you want to, but you don't need to cook me anything! I can always look up recipes or we can order takeout."

"But I want to."

It makes the corners of your mouth rise and warmth spread to your chest. What the republic thinks is a hardened soldier is also a softie who wants to learn how to cook for someone he loves.

"Thank you, love."

Echo doesn't need to move his head to see your smile, he just knows. The tone is obvious to him.

"Cooking is really complicated," he puffs out.

"Oh you have no idea. Pasta is mostly simple to do, one of the easiest dishes in fact," you point out. After sending the shopping list into the app, you toss the datapad to the side.

Now just to wait half an hour for the groceries to arrive, carried by a simple task droid.

You don't want to point your attention towards the TV or go out shopping. It feels like you're wasting precious time you have while Echo is on shore leave. You want to be wrapped up in him for the entire remainder of his vacation.

Curled in his side, you can feel every single muscle of his athletic body through the thin shirt of his blacks. He knows you don't mean anything by it when you snake a hand under his shirt and start drawing shapes into his skin.

As always, his skin is warm to the touch, bringing you instant comfort.

By the time the movie ends, the hypnotic nature of drawing circles into Echo’s skin puts you in the sweet zone between awake and asleep. His chest rises and falls as he watches the credits (something only he ever does), syncing your breathing with his.

Warmth blooms in his heart at your sleepy form, like small fireworks in his veins. He feels as if body will burst.

“I cannot stop smiling when I look at you,” he whispers to you, making you smile in return. He isn’t even sure if your brain registered it or turned it into a pleasant dream.

He slowly moves by centimetres on the couch into a more comfortable position to take a nap and let you snooze.

However, before Echo could even begin falling asleep with you, a sharp ring makes him flinch out of his own head.

An adorable whine leaves your throat.

“Is the food here?” Echo asks and gently takes your arm off him, getting up to get whatever is at the door.

“Hopefully,” you grumble out and lay down flat on the couch, covering where Echo was sitting.

“Can you put everything but the bread in the fridge? I’ll cook in an hour,” you speak up, louder than usual so Echo hears you through the apartment.

You hear the door open and then-

“What the kriff are you doing here?!”

You shoot up from the couch so fast your head nearly spins. Echo rarely swears so to you, this would be a jedi-level threat.

“Well you didn’t answer your comm so Fives told me where your partner lives-” “That information is for emergencies!” an identical voice replies to your boyfriend before getting shot down by (what you assume is) your Echo.

When you get into the line of sight of the door, you realise why.

There, right outside the threshold of your door, stand at least six clones, all wearing the same armour Echo has left neatly in a pile by your shoes. All of them have lines, triangles and patterns painted on their helmets in blue, black or red.

Echo’s legion.

“Well you weren’t answering your comm and… oh…” a blonde trooper in the front with his helmet under his arm speaks out and trails off when his eyes land on you.

“Yeah, I have told you I am away.” You’d think his annoyed voice is hot if you weren’t in a situation that could put him at such risk.

Right behind the blonde clone (who you assume is his caprain Rex from what he Echo told you) is a clone with a standard haircut and a number five tattooed on his temple in galactic basic.

His twin, Fives. You remember his tattoo from a conversation you’ve had with Echo. You wanted to meet him some day as he means so much to your boyfriend, but you have hoped that the meeting would be in better circumstances.

Before anything else can happen, you want to diffuse the situation. You don’t know if a clone trooper legally be in a relationship, as the war made the Senate refuse to look at anything else (certainly not look at the rights of the soldiers fighting said war). You might be in deep waters.

“Good afternoon sir. Is Echo in trouble?” You inwardly grimace. That was such a stupid question to ask, acting guilty in the court before even getting called to the stand.

A small smile gets to the captain’s lips.

“No, he isn’t. We’re just here to check on him because he wasn’t answering his comm.”

Some of the weight leaves your shoulders. You really didn’t want the first meeting with his brothers to be about disciplinary actions.

Echo’s entire face goes red, caught in the act. “I thought I put it on emergency only,” he tries justifying.

“Next time, double check. I sent you a message an hour ago. We wanted to know where you are,” another clone, one with a republic tattoo across his face, suggests.

“I told commander Cody that I am taking a day of shore leave. Did he not tell you guys?” Something shifts in Echo, like a knot coming loose. His stance shifts to be more relaxed and a single hand reaches out for your own.

His captain takes out a datapad and reads through messages while you two watch, previous anxiety dissipating just a smidge .

“Ah, Cody got called away yesterday for a diplomatic mission.” The captain puts away his device and turns back to Echo.

“I- didn’t know that. Sorry Rex” utters your boyfriend and squeezes your hand. You squeeze back, seeing the guilty look on his face.

“It’s alright, you couldn’t have known, General Kenobi got the call and needed to leave immediately,” the blonde, Rex, reaches out a hand and pats his shoulder.

Then, his head turns to you and he nods respectfully. “Nice to meet you ma’am. We’ll be going, sorry to bother you.”

“No problem at all,” you reply and watch the troopers utter variations of hellos and goodbyes, with his twin being the last to leave your porch.

He sends you a mischievous smile and reaches out a hand to shake yours. “I’ll stop by some time.”

He sends him a glare as he pulls away. Fives pats his shoulder and turns around, jogging to catch up with the rest of his brothers.

You lead Echo back inside your apartment and shut the door behind. His hand leaves yours and he kneels next to his armour to take out the commlink from his pack. He pushes a button, switching it on.

A bit sheepish, he puts it back and stands up. “Sorry you had to meet my captain and brothers for the first time like this,” he looks down.

You reach out a hand to cup his cheek and lift up his head to make him look at you.

“It’s fine, I’m just glad you’re not in trouble,” you say softly and curl your free arm against his waist. His hands instinctively reach out to rest at your hips and bring you closer.

“I really wanted my comm to be off for the day, to spend the time with you. I’m sorry mesh’la.”

“Stop saying sorry for things out of your control. Your captain is sweet for wanting to check on you.”

He brings your foreheads together, something you have learnt is a kiss in his culture.

“Still, we could have gone through our day without this. I want to be here with you. For you. I don’t want you to feel like we are one message away from never seeing eachother again,” he murmurs.

You sigh with a sad look on your face.

“But we are, Echo. And that’s the reality. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t here for me,” you reply and pull away just enough so you can kiss his cheek and then bury your face in his neck.

His hands go from your hips to hugging you. It’s the kind of bear hug that makes it impossible to breathe deeply, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m here for you too,” you whisper into his skin and land a peck on the junction of his neck and shoulder.

His arms falter and he pulls away, only to kiss you like his life depends on it.

He has no qualms pushing his tongue past your lips, multitasking while gently walking the two of you over to your couch.

“Kriff!” you squeak out as you stumble a bit, unaware of your surroundings from the haze of kissing. You stabilise yourself against Echo’s muscular chest and plant your feet firmly, making your boyfriend almost lose balance in return.

As you both regain your footing, your eyes meet again and you both snicker at the clumsy attempt at romance.

You want to lead Echo towards your couch to continue the session, but the bell rings again.

“So help me force Fives, if it’s you, I am going to put sand in your bed!”

“I think that’s just the delivery droid. It’s been an hour.”

“Oh, cool. Can you show me the recipe?”

#echo x reader #501st x reader #star wars echo #clone wars echo #clone wars fic exchange #echo fluff

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galina · 8 months

Note

Coffee brand recommendations? I usually use a french press.

the best thing is shop local to you, look for coffee roasted in or around your area or nearby cities first, then go further afield once you know what flavours you like.

coffee green flags:

☕️ variety is arabica, rather than robusta or unspecified mystery blends

☕️ is sold in whole beans 🫘

☕️ roasted in your country, or even better, your town

☕️ specifies light / medium / dark or has a description of the taste or a recommended brewing method

☕️ has a ‘roasted on’ date or similar (and is fresh, 4 days is optimal)

☕️ names a country, farm or grower origin

☕️ is graded as ‘specialty’ (scoring above 80 on a sca 100 point scale)

nb good coffee might have none of the above but it’s a good place to start

I really like the cafetière as a brewing method, it can be elevated by grinding your beans a little finer, steeping for the right amount of time for the beans, and pouring with the filter raised to avoid as much silt getting to the cup 🙂

#ask #studyblr #coffee

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sleepy-hart · 8 months

Text

So while working through game concepts and deciding what to work on next, I've been refreshing my Godot skills. Wanting to get back into 3D and prepare for doing more narrative heavy games. Made this demo to learn nathanhoad's excellent Dialogue Manager addon and also test drive Kenney's new Godot platformer kit.

I'm really, really enjoying Dialogue Manager so far and feel it has a tonne of potential. Think it covers a lot of things I've been looking for:

Direct engine integration is super useful, as well as using custom resources to store dialogue. They're also text files so can still use external editor to update

Straightforward syntax, reminds me a lot of ink and yarn. As well it's named node approach feels familiar

Able to access global game variables for conditionals, and having conditional based loops and choices is very straightforward

Also able to call methods directly within dialogue, which is super powerful when combined with signals (showing/hiding coin UI mid conversation, playing sound effect)

Lots of options for random dialogue choices - just used the single line ones for now but in docs have seen they also have option for setting custom probabilities, just ncie to add more flavour

Hyped it has a built in approach for translations (create IDs and reference CSVs) that looks like integrates with Godot's localisation tools - a bit of a future thought but glad it has stuff to help built in

Docs you can mention you can create dialogue resources at runtime. Can imagine this being very useful - an example would be creating a record of all lines seen to replicate Ren-py's "log" feature.

The methods for displaying dialogue are super flexible. At the moment just used their example balloons but looks like it should play nicely to let you build custom GUI - and maybe even multiple forms (e.g. dialogue scenes vs flavour barks in main game world). Think next experiments will focus on this.

There's a few more things I'm keen to learn and see if they're feasible with this - "disabled" choices that still appear but can't be accessed would be nice, also looking at how you can integrate this with an audio system for voice acting - I think they have an example that includes voice acting?

Only thing I'm a bit nervous of is it looks like it can only grab variables from autoload/global scripts, so when putting into actual game will need to take care with save systems and methods for loading choice variables into a choice master global so we aren't keeping too much in memory at once. But if I'm wrong on this assumption, or others have approaches, more than happy to be corrected on this!

Also really enjoying Kenney's 3D platformer kit and it's been fun and . Making the shopkeeper bot was super simple. All the details on the original character model are modelled so just adjusted the face and for changing colours just had to move UV islands for limbs and face to different parts of the pallete textures.

Haven't tried this technique for modelling and texturing before but seen it crop up a few times so will definitely experiment with this in the future. Also might help with optimization - I think most of the materials in the pack refer to this single image texture? By default the pack only has the model glbs and a single colormap png so assuming that's how it's working.

Original plan was to fill in the shop with another pack so there's a few little platform challenges within this, but they all needed collisions adding so might add that in future. But main aim was focusing on the dialogue and think we've got a good approch going forward, and highly recommend the add on for other Godot devs making narrative games!

#Godot #game dev #godot 4 #game development #dev log #game dev experiment #interactive fiction #dialogue system

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selfdiagnosedeyemotif · 7 months

Text

little thing i've been thinking about as of late:

How could one make the Octopath Travelers II in Dungeons and Dragons?

the rules i've set for myself are as follows:

no variant human. that is boring.

we're going for flavour over optimization but my stupid optimizer brain will nonetheless be the architect behind this all so Watch Out

Unearthed Arcana and things of that sort ARE allowed. UA is my dear wife and to leave her out of my house would be a crime most unforgivable

stats will be calculated using the point buy method, simply because that is much easier than working with the other methods

in a similar vein to the previous, pre-Mordenkainen's Monsters of the Multiverse stat increases and abilities for races will be used (my best friend the Air Genasi gets burnt by this but sacrifices must be made)

characters will range from level 10 (agnea) to level 14 (osvald)

this is what the characters would look like at the END of their journeys, so abilities like the One True Magic would be taken into account

i'll link pages describing all of the things i use, all of which will be from my dnd site of choice, the DND 5th Edition Wikidot Site

that being said...

Ochette, the Hunter

Race:

Tabaxi (+2 DEX, +1 CHA)

Class(es):

Revised Ranger - Beastmaster Conclave - Level 8 Paladin - Oath of the Ancients - Level 3

Feats (if any):

N/A

Stats:

STR - 14 (+2) DEX - 19 (+4) CON - 15 (+2) INT - 10 (0) WIS - 8 (-1) CHA - 13 (+1)

Key Abilities/Explanations:

Tabaxi - Race: Ochette, while more of a fox than a cat, notably has many animal features similar to cats (namely her claws and ears), so the cat race fits her quite well

Cat's Claws - Tabaxi: ability most akin to Ochette's latent power ability Beastly Claws

Animal Companion - Beastmaster Conclave: this is the space for Akala or Mahina, since the BM is the only class/subclass that lets you have an animal companion in any way, not counting the wizard spell Find Familiar (which just doesn't fit Ochette. she aint a wizard)

Oath of the Ancients Paladin - Class/Subclass: at the end of Ochette's story she is touched by the Flame itself, bestowing upon her the power necessary to continue her immediate mission of Stop That Shadow Beast and ongoing mission of protecting the wilds of Solistia. serving something greater than oneself for a specific purpose (divine or not) is how 5e paladins have been flavoured, and the OotA subclass is explicitly based around being the light for the world, and has a general nature theme (see: green knights)

Castti, the Apothecary

Race:

Water Genasi (+2 CON, +1 WIS)

Class(es):

Artificer - Alchemist Speciality - Level 9 Paladin - Oath of Redemption - Level 4

Feats (if any):

Resilient (Wisdom)

Stats:

STR - 12 (+1) DEX - 9 (-1) CON - 14 (+2) INT - 13 (+1) WIS - 20 (+5) CHA - 12 (+1)

Key Abilities/Explanations:

Water Genasi - Race: first off, Castti obviously has a water motif. that's a guarantee. however, i also think that Water Genasi has some good flavour to it because before MMotM, it gave resistance to Acid damage. you know, like trosseau's poison rain. Castti was INSANELY resilient against that shit, and i think it could be fun if that was like. just a thing she did.

Class/Subclass - Alchemist Speciality Artificer: this is the place to go when it comes to apothecaries. i really wanted to make her a warlock of Malaya as well but the best fitting subclasses (Fathomless, Celestial, and Undead) didn't have abilities that fit her very well. regardless, you've gotta be an Alchemist if you wanna be an apothecary

Class/Subclass - Oath of Redemption Paladin: PLEASE go read the tenets of the Oath of Redemption. like yeah its about redeeming yourself but more importantly its about pacifism (that's castti), patience (that's castti), and protecting the weak (that's castti). shes SO Oath of Redemption that it isn't even funny

Experimental Elixir/Restorative Reagent - Alchemist: this is Concoct, to a T. Experimental Elixir allows you to bestow a variety of different effects onto an ally, ranging from healing to haste to defense. just. like. Concoct. also the Restorative Reagent feature that castti would get at level 9 just adds to the healing aspect of EE so like. yeap that tracks.

Lay On Hands - Paladin: Sounds an awful lot like a mix between castti's Healing Hands and Rehabilitate abilities, with a mix of healing damage and disease specifically via touch.

Resilient - Feat: you'll notice that i made Castti's highest stat her Wisdom, which a keen-eyed D&D player might mark as strange, since Artificers are an Intelligence-based class, and Paladins are Charisma-based. well, this in conjunction with Resilient giving her proficiency in Wisdom Saving Throws (basically making her very good at holding on against fear, mind control, and things that affect sanity), are all because of one of my personal favourite Castti moments: she has canonically read the Book of Night and it couldn't do jack SHIT to her. her mind is made of IRON.

Throné, the Thief

Race:

Shadar-Kai (+2 DEX, +1 CON)

Class(es):

Rogue - Assassin Archetype - Level 11 Fighter - No Subclass - Level 2

Feats (if any):

Shadow Touched (spells gained: Invisibility, Silent Image)

Stats:

STR - 11 (0) DEX - 20 (+5) CON - 10 (0) INT - 14 (+2) WIS - 12 (+1) CHA - 14 (+2)

Key Abilities/Explanations:

Shadar-Kai - Race: grabbed simply because i think that being a Dark Elf™ fits Throné really well. technically it also gives her teleportation which would be a cool in-universe explanation for Aeber's Reckoning but honestly this one's for the funsies

Inflitration Expert - Assassin Archetype: she straight-up does this in the first chapter. like full stop. that is the thing that this ability does. also i know it's very much not one-to-one but i also think this is how she would use Disguise but that ventures into headcanon territory

Action Surge - Fighter: the SPECIFIC reason that i gave Throné fighter levels. Action Surge allows the user to, once per short rest, USE TWO ACTIONS IN ONE TURN. THAT IS LEAVE NO TRACE. EXACTLY.

Shadow Touched - Feat: flavour for infiltration stuff but also sort of works as an expy for Veil of Darkness. Silent Image can be used to create a fairly large illusion, including but not limited to a quick and easy way to throw enemies off their game in terms of their attacks. Disguise Self was also considered as an option for the spell to take (Invisibility is always given) but i passed on it because she was already getting Infiltration Expert from her subclass.

Osvald, the Scholar

Race:

Goliath (+2 STR, +1 CON)

Class(es):

Wizard - School of Evocation - Level 14

Feats (if any):

N/A

Stats:

STR - 12 (+1) DEX - 10 (0) CON - 16 (+3) INT - 20 (+5) WIS - 14 (+2) CHA - 8 (-1)

Key Abilities/Explanations:

Goliath - Race: Professor Osvald V. Vanstein is, amoungst other descriptors, fucking MASSIVE. that man is canonically like 6'7" or something. goliaths, the Biggest race in D&D 5e, are absolutely the best fit for him. as a bonus, they give him resistance to Cold damage, a fun reference to that teeny little stay on Frigit Isle

School of Evocation - Subclass: Osvald is canonically very much an offensive caster. that's clear. the School of Evocation, in D&D, is the one with the easiest access to Spells like Fireball, Lightning Bolt, and Cone of Cold, meaning that Osvald "Fire-Ice-Lightning" V. Vanstein simply MUST be one

Overchannel/Sculpt Spells - School of Evocation: neither of these two abilities, on their own, would equate to anything Osvald-y. Overchannel allows the user to make one damaging spell do max damage (and do it more at an HP cost), and Scupt Spells allows them to exempt certain targets from AoE spells. together, however, they form a decent expy for Concentrate Spells, Osvald's latent power

Prismatic Spray - Spell: this spell is a seventh level evocation spell. level 14 is the first time wizards have access to seventh level spells, and Osvald is an evoker. this spell is also a MASSIVE FUCK-YOU RAINBOW BLAST. i won't go through its actual abilities because they dont line up to the One True Magic very well, but aesthetically they're damn-near identical

Partitio, the Merchant

Race:

Human (+1 to all stats)

Class(es):

Paladin - Oath of Devotion - Level 6 Bard - College of Eloquence - Level 5

Feats (if any):

Inspiring Leader

Stats:

STR - 15 (+2) DEX - 11 (0) CON - 14 (+2) INT - 12 (+1) WIS - 10 (0) CHA - 18 (+4)

Key Abilities/Explanations:

Oath of Devotion Paladin - Class/Subclass: mostly based around how Partitio is just. endlessly all about that helping people. you dont need to worship a god to be a paladin, folks, you just need to have a cause that you stand insanely firmly by. that's why they're Charisma-based. anyways Devotion fits Parti best so he gets it

Silver Tongue - College of Eloquence: half of this ability (bonus to Deception) is positively worthless to Partitio because he really doesnt lie much, but the other half (bonus to Persuasion) is DEATHLY important to this build. Partitio is a man built on being extremely good at talking to people, and it really shows in this. also, SILVER Tongue. Oresrush silver. get it? huh? huh?

Inspiring Leader - Feat: genuinely the most Partitio feat ever. it literally has the user make an inspiring speech for a mechanical benefit and if that ain't Partitio i dont know what is

Agnea, the Dancer

Race:

Spring Eladrin (+2 DEX, +1 CHA)

Class(es):

Bard - College of Glamour - Level 10

Feats (if any):

Mobile

Stats:

STR - 8 (-1) DEX - 16 (+3) CON - 12 (+1) INT - 11 (0) WIS - 12 (+1) CHA - 18 (+4)

Key Abilities/Explanations:

Eladrin - Race: this is the most whimsical and fun race ever and i love it. spring Eladrin are the joyous and celebratory version of this race, so it fits Agnie pretty damn well. it also offers a teleportation option in the form of Fey Step (the season-themed version of Throné's teleport), which i feel like she would incorporate into her shows

College of Glamour Bard - Class/Subclass: this is the main performer bard for performers that dont use musical instruments, so it simply had to be Agnea

Enthralling Performance - College of Eloquence: this ability is effectively a make-your-performances-better card, which is exactly the kind of thing that Agnea would pull out if she needed to really bedazzle a crowd (see: Agnea chapter five)

Magical Secrets - Bard: this allows the user to gain two spells from any spell list. Agnea's would be Control Winds (Windy Refrain) and Beacon of Hope (Song of Hope). the latter is a much rougher expy than the former, but it's got hope in the name and i am nothing if not predictable. see the links below for what those spells do

Mobile - Feat: this is meant as an expy of the Dancer ability Ever Evasive, and to a degree Agnea's high base Speed and Evasion, since the Mobile feat both makes it more difficult for enemies to land hits on you, and improves your movement speed

Temenos, the Cleric

Race:

Changeling (+2 CHA, +1 WIS), pretends to be Half-Elf

Class(es):

Rogue - Inquisitive Archetype - Level 4 Cleric - Knowledge Domain - Level 9

Feats (if any):

Keen Mind (+1 INT)

Stats:

STR - 8 (-1) DEX - 10 (0) CON - 8 (-1) INT - 18 (+4) WIS - 18 (+4) CHA - 16 (+3)

Key Abilities/Explanations:

Changeling - Race: i think it would be really cool because Temenos is such a goddamn liar. im so normal about it. sososo normal about it. i just feel that he would lie persistently about his identity lie that because just. i am hopelessly in love with the aspect of Temenos that he does not let anyone know anything ever

Inquisitive Archetype Rogue - Class/Subclass: one will note that this is the first class listed rather than his actual in-game class of Cleric. this is because i think that before he was a cleric, before he was found by the church, Rogue was a deeply fitting class for him. i think it was his base class, and grew into the Inquisitive subclass AFTER taking Cleric levels

Channel Divinity: Read Thoughts - Knowledge Domain: this is the equivalent of Temenos's Coerce path action; both are obviously magical in nature and involve to a certain (albeit different) degree looking into the target's mind. not a lot to say it's just a very good stand-in for Coerce

Legend Lore - Spell: this is the expy for Temenos's doubt-is-what-i-do mystery solving sections (like when he's in the cathedral with Crick investigating the death of the pontiff). it's not exact since Legend Lore targets an object and Temenos's thing targets a location, but i think it's close enough to be good enough. also it's a free spell you get for being a Knowledge Cleric so i think it's a good fit

Expertise - Rogue: this ability allows you to take two skills and become SUPER good at them. this would be Deception and Insight for Temenos, and i think it was important that i bring it up

Hikari, the Warrior

Race:

High Elf (+2 DEX, +1 INT)

Class(es):

Fighter - Samurai Archetype - Level 11 Sorcerer - Shadow Origin - Level 1

Feats (if any):

N/A

Stats:

STR - 18 (+4) DEX - 16 (+3) CON - 16 (+3) INT - 10 (0) WIS - 10 (0) CHA - 10 (0)

Key Abilities/Explanations:

Shadow Origin Sorcerer - Class/Subclass: homeboy's got the blood of D'arqest in him, so he simply MUST have some kind of spooky class. the other class in the running was Hexblade Warlock, but Shadow Sorcerer ultimately won out mostly for mechanical reasons (SO's Strength of the Grave was considered more flavourful than HB's Hexblade's Curse)

Fighting Spirit/Tireless Spirit - Samurai Archetype: these abilities are about the user powering up by sheer force of will and that's literally the most Hikari thing i have ever heard in my life

Fighting Style: Superior Technique - Fighter: this fighting style allows the user to gain one Battlemaster Fighter maneuver. the one selected for Hikari is Riposte, which serves as an equivalent to Hikari's Vengeful Blade ability (both of them are counterattack options)

Extra Attack 2x - Fighter: fighters are the only class that gain access to more than two attacks per turn, similarly to Hikari's Aggressive Slash ability giving him access to the greatest number of hits out of any class in-game

Links:

Ochette, the Hunter

Tabaxi

Ranger, Revised

Beastmaster Conclave

Paladin

Oath of the Ancients

Castti, the Apothecary

Water Genasi

Artificer

Alchemist Speciality

Paladin

Oath of Redemption

Resilient

Throné, the Thief

Shadar-Kai

Rogue

Assassin Archetype

Fighter

Shadow Touched

Silent Image

Osvald, the Scholar

Goliath

Wizard

School of Evocation

Prismatic Spray

Partitio, the Merchant

Human (yeah im linking that)

Paladin

Oath of Devotion

Bard

College of Eloquence

Inspiring Leader

Agnea, the Dancer

Eladrin

Bard

College of Glamour

Mobile

Control Winds

Beacon of Hope

Temenos, the Cleric

Changeling

Rogue

Inquisitive Archetype

Cleric

Knowledge Domain

Keen Mind

Legend Lore

Hikari, the Warrior

High Elf

Fighter

Samurai Archetype

Sorcerer

Shadow Origin

Riposte Maneuver

#octopath traveler 2 #octopath traveler 2 spoilers #d&d #ochette #castti florenz #throné anguis #throne anguis #osvald v. vanstein #osvald v vanstein #partitio yellowil #agnea bristarni #temenos mistral #hikari ku #iris originals

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