#hopefully eventually I will be able to draw the OTHER stuff too

[solanj]

Desperation

[astronnonyy]

I've noticed some misconceptions about how Dark's powers work in my time in the fandom, some of which I believed myself, so I thought I'd make a post going over their powers and how they seem to work within AvA canon. I'm mostly just making this for my own reference, but hopefully this will be useful for other people too 👍

(For the record, I'm not trying to call out or criticize anyone by making this, it's purely for reference purposes. You do whatever you want when writing/drawing stuff)

Without Wristbands

Without the wristbands introduced in The Showdown, Dark only has three* powers that we're ever shown, compared to the four+ that Chosen has, which I will describe below.

The power they use the most is pyrokinesis, much like Chosen has. They can create fire, and use fire to fly.

They're also shown to be able to breathe fire like Chosen does, despite not having a visible mouth (ie. A pac man mouth).

Dark can also create what I can only think to call fire bombs, and has done so in every episode they've appeared in. These are unique to them and Firefox, and Chosen is not shown to share this ability, (which leads me to believe that this is not directly linked to their shared pyrokinesis abilities).

*I'm not sure if this counts as one power or two, but I'm going to talk about them as two facets of one power.

Dark and Chosen both seem to possess some sort of heightened physical resilience, as well as super strength. Being thrown through walls, and throwing others through walls, with little to no actual damage being sustained.

(It's difficult to get proper screenshots of this, but you can see it in just about every scene the two are part of.)

There's also. whatever the hell this attack was. which I can only think to put under this section, because they never do anything like this again.

At no point is Dark shown to have laser eyes as part of their normal powers.

With Wristbands

With the wristbands, Dark's power set completely changes. They're never shown using their normal powers again after this point, which leads me to think they may not be able to, though that's 100% speculation on my part.

They gain a number of new abilities, as well as a boost to their physical strength and resilience, seeming to surpass Chosen's abilities. Specific powers and abilities are described below.

They gain multiple abilities previously used by the Virabots, including the ability to fly/levitate without the use of fire (which they could not do previously), and summon spikes that delete things they hit.

There's also some things that seem to be unique to them in this state, namely being some sort of black energy balls they can throw, laser eyes of their own, and, most iconically, the ability to summon the V blade.

The exact properties of these abilities (minus the blade) are unclear.

The V blade, however, is a sharp, sword-like weapon, which has the ability to cut through and instantly destroy normal stick figures, reducing them to code. It, alongside the Virabots themselves, also seems to severely weaken both Chosen and Alan's cursor, ultimately destroying the latter and kicking Alan out of the battle.

Dark seems to be able to easily outpace Chosen with the wristbands on, throwing them around and eventually pinning them down with the help of the Virabots.

It also appears that they may have gained an immunity/resistance to Chosen's laser eyes, or at least they're less concerned about them. Previously in both AvA 3 and The Showdown, they're shown to run away and avoid being hit by the lasers, but after putting on the wristbands, they tank laser beams with no hesitation.

I don't really have much of a conclusion to this post, so I'll leave it here for now. Hopefully this is useful, or at least interesting, to others! ✌

[in1-nutshell]

I have been thinking a lot about the neutral teen not buddy Who is skillied in combat and edgy, like maybe they keep meeting with smokescreen and eventually properly meet the others?

Another Buddy we haven't seen in a while, lets see how this works!

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the edgy neutral assassin meeting with Smokescreen again

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

It was a couple of days before Buddy realized the bot they had been chatting to wasn’t another Neutral.

He was an Autobot.

One of the new recruits named Smokescreen.

That was their mistake for assuming.

They originally thought of just ignoring him since he did give them a nice talk.

But soon enough they found it nearly impossible to ignore the mech. He seemed to be everywhere Buddy was going and they did not want to draw attention to both.

They weren’t going to lose the only other nice bot in this war.

Not again…

Ultimately, they decided to maybe talk to him again. At least then they would be able to talk with peace of mind that no one would be watching them.

Hopefully.

Maybe they could even get him to see their side of the war, maybe join forces.

Become an assassin duo.

Oh, how were they kidding, Smokescreen was not assassin material.

He was more Wrecker material than anything.

Not good for stealth.

Buddy waited at the same place again a month later.

They found him seated in the same spot.

They quietly joined him when he waved and patted the ground next to him.

His grin grew once they sat down next to him.

“Hey! It’s been a while!”--Smokescreen

Buddy nods and takes the spot next to him.

“I saw a cool looking bird heading north with a whole other group of the same one. Where do you think they’re going?”--Smokescreen

“Maybe they’re heading home? Doubt it’s because of any cold temperatures.”--Buddy

“Why would they want to get away from the cold? That white stuff that falls from the sky is awesome!”--Smokescreen

Buddy chuckles a bit.

“Yeah, it kind of is when is falling.”--Buddy

He didn’t say anything about the war much to their surprise.

Or maybe it was because he didn’t know who they were yet.

Smokescreen talked more of the things he saw around while on patrol.

This little routine continued for about another two months.

It was a nice change of pace for Buddy.

A little breather from their usual activities.

“I have a question.”--Smokescreen

“Yeah? And what would that be?”--Buddy

“How come you haven’t offline me yet?”--Smokescreen

Buddy stiffens.

“You came across one of my friends not too long ago, you spared her. But we’ve been meeting for a while now and have had multiple times that you could have…you know. So, why?”--Smokescreen

Buddy looks down, playing with some of the sand.

“I’ll admit. I didn’t know you were an Autobot before, I thought you were another Neutral. When I realized that you weren’t I planed on just ignoring you.”--Buddy

“Why not…”--Smokescreen

“You were nice to me. It’s been a while since I had any nice talk like the ones we have. Nothing with the war, nothing about political views… just peaceful things.”--Buddy

“So, if I wasn’t so nice to you—”--Smokescreen

“You wouldn’t have made it back to your team.”--Buddy

“…”--Smokescreen

“…Listen I know this could change our thing and that you probably want to leave… I’ll respect your decision and I won’t—”--Buddy

“Who says I want to leave?”--Smokescreen

Buddy looks at him with wide optics.

“Any bot with any common sense would leave.”--Buddy

Smokescreen chuckles a bit.

“Well, I have been told I lack some of that.”--Smokescreen

“…You really want to keep meeting? Even after all I admitted?”--Buddy

Smokescreen pats their back.

“I still want to be friends with you Buddy. You’re a good bot.”--Smokescreen

Buddy smiles at him.

Both look back at the horizon in silence

Smokescreen did bring up the option of bringing them to the base to meet the others.

But they declined.

They didn’t want to give either side any idea that they were going to join a side.

He pestered it a couple more times before just dropping it.

Smokescreen knows he’ll wear them down eventually.

But for now, he was happy being their friend outside of the base.

[oinkinpigprince]

NO LONGER ANONYMOUS ⛓️‍💥

Secretary Reader x Pim who is BAD at confessing his love. he'd see reader every day and PANIC 😁

Ooo!’ This is silly, idk what a secretary really does but ik what a club secretary does. Nvm I know what they do! Also, I’m glad you finally unmasked yourself you dastardly villain :33!!

Pim x secretary reader

When he first laid his eyes on you, it was love at first sight. The boss introduced you as the new secretary so that everyone would be able to better make arrangements and meetings

The fact he had to speak with you every day was nerve wracking, he loves seeing you but he can be a bit, awkward. Everyone notices, including you

Stutters a lot when he has to ask you about appointments, meetings, and other things. Sometimes you’ll tell him and he’ll say thnxs, and then come back later because he forgot (he was too focused on staring into your eyes, the first time)

Pim talks to Charlie about it, a LOT. Charlie tells him the same thing every time “Pim, you should NEVER date your coworker. It’s bad luck” and Pim (dis)agrees but still ends up talking to him about you non stop

When you’re in the break room on your lunch Pim tries to strike up conversation, but he ends up blabbering on and on about random stuff. Like word vomit, hopefully he doesn’t actually vomit,,,,,

Pim brings you random things, like candy, coffee, anime drawings. It’s like a bird trying to court another bird, it’s sweet

You go to Charlie about it eventually and asking him what’s up with Pim. Charlie just looks at you and you understand immediately. Kinda just nodding, it all made sense

It’s funny watching Pim try to dance around and not embarrass himself infront of you. He wants you to think he’s cool and charming and hip, but he’s just a goofy guy

[acerathia]

Magic Shop || S. Todoroki

Summary:

After 'accidentally' getting cursed, you seek the witch of the forest to fix this problem. Only did you not expect a beautiful man to reside there...

Wordcount: 12.4k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Witch!Todoroki Shoto / GN!Reader

Tags/CW:

witch!shoto, contractual partners to friends to lovers, pining!! lots of pining, aged-up characters, GN reader, honestly mostly vibes in the woods idk what to say, fluff, innuendos, but sfw, maybe shoto is ooc, forgive my transagression <;/3

Note:

Please note that information about witches may be inaccurate as I was only using my fantasy. And any links are safe!! Also!! This is part of the 'Haunted House Collab' by Willow's House, check out the other works!!

Your hand slaps against the surface of your ringing phone, hoping to silence it with a lucky stroke back to sleep. But that only works for a couple of minutes as it starts once again relentlessly chiming, with no way to stop it. With a groan you remember the infinite number of alarms you had set yourself the night before, your past self too aware of your strong desire to sleep overpowering your need to go to work. So you don’t have a choice, you’d like to keep your job for as long as possible, even with your current sleeping habits.

Slowly you swing your upper body up, and blink blearily, just staring into your room for a couple of seconds, just trying to force you to properly wake up. You take your phone into your hand to stop the still blaring alarm and of course every subsequent alarm after that one. You run your hands over your face, once again trying to wake yourself up before getting up. Shuffling your feet, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up. A good splash in your face does wonders against this fatigue, but only sometimes, so you hope it works today.

It actually helped a bit, your eyes stinging from the direct contact with the flying water. After finishing the rest of your routine, you go back to your room and put your work clothes on, ignoring the crinkles in them, even if your hands mindlessly try to flatten them, they will eventually disappear, hopefully. You just don’t have time nor the patience to iron them out. Nobody is going to notice them underneath a blazer. A last look in the mirror tells you that you do look presentable enough to show up at work. So you grab your necessities and hurry out of the door.

You don’t hurry because you might be late, you just like to be a bit early on the street, never sure what might delay your way, a traffic jam leading every car to link its arms with each other, making any other form of transportation nigh unusable. This especially accounts for you being stuck between arms and torsos of other people, holding for dear life on a pole in the bus, trying your best to avoid falling onto the ground with every rumbling stop.

Your stop draws near, and you’re finally able to leave the suffocating transportation can, you take a second to breathe, to collect yourself once again. The shaking of the bus has almost begun to lull you back to sleep, even if you were standing with hands in a death grip. So you slap both of your cheeks and continue your way to your workplace.

At your arrival, you think that luck must be on your side, as you still have a couple of minutes until your shift starts, enough time to calm down after all that speed walk, and simply drink some water. You put your stuff into the locker and begin your work. And you hope to keep that luck running for the rest of the morning.

But it seems that your luck is already strained thin, as you mess up some of the dates by accident, inconveniencing a visitor at their work. So you hurry up to apologize for this mistake before they can ask for your boss.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. We’ll fix this as soon as possible, so feel free to take a seat, Mrs. Nukarumi,” you offer her with a smile, not moving a muscle as her face shifts at the name-drop. You don’t realize your mistake until she steps closer, a menacing aura clogging your airways. You begin to panic, but you keep your face professional, a smile, a questioning tilt to the head.

“Listen, I can excuse some mishap at work, happens to the best of us. But getting my name wrong, and to such a distasteful degree is arrogant, especially after being quite the regular at your establishment,” she puts two fingers on your forehead, her nails pressing against your skin, and now you drop your smile for a frown, as the shadow of her hand covers your face, suffocating in a way only air can be. “It’s Nakamura, and I’d like to know how you will live your life without a soul ever recognizing you.”

Her fingers begin to feel warmer with each second, and at first, you thought it might be due to the prolonged skin contact. That is until this warmth turns into heat, her fingerprints searing themselves into your skull, your skin non-existent. Some kind of pain spreads all over your facial features, not painful enough to coax out a scream, but enough to make your muscles twitch in response. At this sensation, you try your best to pull away, but you seem to be glued to her fingertips, like she’s holding the strings of your body between her knuckles with this simple touch.

You finally manage to take a step back the moment her fingers leave your skin. She seems to be satisfied with whatever she just did, as a grin spreads over her face as she glances over your face. Mischief is coloring the outlines of her lips before she just leaves without another word, not caring if the situation is fixed any time soon.

For some reason, this is the least of your worries, as you make your way to the bathroom with quick steps in search of a mirror. But the moment you stand in front of one, you can’t see anything wrong with your face, not even a small print of her fingers on your forehead. Everything looks normal and proper to you, so you just shrug it off, keen on returning to your post behind the desk.

On the walk back to your space, you come across the manager, who gives you a weird look, and you glance down at yourself, thinking your clothes might have gotten in disarray. But there’s nothing wrong with them. You still straighten your blazer a bit, which doesn’t seem to help, as he finally comes up to you.

“Excuse me, this area is for staff only,” he tells you with a warning in his voice, and you can only furrow your eyebrows at that.

“Uh, yes, I am a staff. It’s my shift right now,” you reply, confusion tinting your voice.

“Lying is useless in this case, I don’t recognize you, and I know all of my staff.” He shakes his head in some form of disappointment before threatening to call security if you don’t clear the space immediately.

Absolutely confused, you just leave the space, and even the building altogether, just heading home, because what else are you supposed to do? You got kicked out by your boss, for some strange reason, and nothing makes sense to you.

What did he say again? He doesn’t recognize you? That’s the wildest reason to kick someone out, ever. Does he want to fire you, or is he pulling some kind of elaborate prank or scheme? You honestly don’t care, you just hope you still get paid for your work.

As you have some time to spare, for obvious reasons, you decide to take a short trip to the store to get yourself some groceries, and maybe you could chat a bit with your acquaintance there, letting a couple of minutes pass in idle talk.

So you enter the store and begin collecting whatever your heart desires, and whatever your wallet allows you, before making your way to the register, where your almost friend works. You smile and greet them, hoping to be able to listen to whatever gossip they have at the moment. But they only give you the usual customer service smile, the usual greeting voice, no recognition sparking in their eyes at all.

Your chest constricts and you try to think of what you might have done to offend them, yet nothing seems to be the problem. And you could hardly bother them while they’re working, so you leave the place without inquiring any further about any possible reason.

Trudging home, you can’t help but wonder if you had done something for all of this to happen. There’s no way this day is filled with one unlucky incident after the other. There’s no correlation for this bad luck, you started your day as you do every single day. The only weird moment was with that weird woman, who just grabbed your face for no reason. But whatever she did, it didn’t work, you checked yourself in the mirror and everything looked fine to you, normal. So why does it seem like no one can recognize you?

You enter your home as the final puzzle clicks, and everything makes sense, well barely. A gasp escapes you at this revelation, and you almost throw your groceries onto the table, grabbing for your phone. With a frown, you open the front camera, seeing yourself, with every feature you know and are used to. Maybe the effect is similar to the one with a mirror?

You decide to take a picture of yourself, not focusing much on looking good, but rather on verifying your thoughts. After you take one where you’re sure your whole face can be seen, you open the gallery to click on the newest picture. But instead of a picture, you’re faced with a blurred mess. Did your hands tremble? There’s no way they moved that much while you took the picture. Still, you take another one, and another one, and another one. And all of them turn out to be blurry.

Chewing on your bottom lip you scroll further to some of the older pictures you have on your phone and they all look normal, your face still visible and clear. So there’s only one conclusion: only the ones you took today have that particular problem, so that means the woman had actually done something unexplainable to you.

With a sigh you put your phone away, driving your hand over your face. You screwed up, you accidentally messed up with the wrong person today, and now you reap the consequences. What are you supposed to do now? How could you even undo this? You can’t go to work if no one recognizes you, and you can’t just not work! You’re ruined, your life will be in shambles over a little mistake, this is so ridiculous.

Panic is running hot through your veins and you do what every sensible human being would do in such a dire situation. You take your phone and look it up, even if you don’t know how to phrase the problem properly. So it isn’t surprising when the first couple of hits you stumble across are different subreddits and medical pages about loneliness. But no matter how far you read into those, there is just no correlation between them and your current problem.

Thus, you dive deeper and you discover some shady-looking forum, all small font and 2000s style of blogging, in which you read a rather recent post.

Does the witch in that forest actually exist? Cuz I heard rumors, but no one has shown real pics smh. If yes, how do you meet them? Like, I wanna get some potions or stuff, idk

– i guess that’s one way to touch grass – that’s some witchful thinking LMAO – ofc, u just gotta go that fb page, there’s proof

Your curiosity gets the best of you and you click on the link, which turns out to be a rickroll. You don’t know if you’re supposed to laugh or groan in frustration. The only upside of this is that you had gotten some form of lead to… something. You’re not quite sure what the whole witch thing is about, but if there’s smoke, there must be a fire. At least you hope so, because it’s the only thing that could solve your problem at the moment. You’re pretty sure the woman put some kind of curse or spell on you, there’s no other way to achieve this kind of effect.

Naturally, you’re going to look for that witch now. You have quite some free time left, so maybe there is some upside to that too…

Trying to be positive about the whole predicament, you trade your current clothes for something more robust, something suitable to endure a visit to the forest. The place mentioned in the post isn’t that far from your living place, so you plan to walk there, getting some blood running to prepare you for the worst.

With a bottle, your phone, and whatever is necessary for your trip, you leave the building. Your phone in hand, you try to discover the fastest way to these woods to avoid losing time.

Finally arriving at the entrance of the forest, you decide to take the already existing paths, leisurely walking along them. And you have to admit it has taken you some time to realize something important in your current endeavor: there’s no way a witch is going to be living on the equivalent of a main street of the forest. No one would do that if they’re actively trying to get by without notice, and witches don’t want people to know where they live. That’s like, their lore or something.

This makes sense, and you nod to yourself, convinced by your own logic before you step off the path. At first, you paid attention to where you put your foot down, careful to not destroy any plants or to get stuck somewhere. But after a while, you simply forget to look at the ground and where you’re going. As a result it shouldn’t be a big surprise when one of your feet gets caught in something, you’re not quite sure what, because the moment you topple over you immediately begin to roll down a hill.

Scrunching your face, you brace yourself for the upcoming impact, hoping sincerely you won’t get knocked against a rock or a stump, breaking something or injuring you in any other way.

Nothing happens. Slowly the rotations come to a stop and you feel your back thud against the ground one last time, even if you still feel the turbulence in your head.

After taking a couple of seconds to get your head straight, you hesitantly open your eyes, only to glance at the face of another person. And for a moment you feel like nothing is real, he’s beautiful. Soft plush lips, slightly agape in surprise, eyes widened and sparkling in the early afternoon sun, and you need to look a couple of times back to notice the different colors, gray and blue, a storm separated from its lightning. His lashes brush against his smooth skin on one side, and against a burn mark on the other, as he blinks, trying to understand what just happened.

You immediately close your eyes again, hoping to fool him into thinking you had passed out, even if he probably saw you staring at his face like a fish out of water.

A slight chuckle, air fanning over your face, tells you that he is no fool. So you have no other choice but to take a breath and to slowly sit up, avoiding looking into his eyes with all your might, even if you’re compelled to look at him just a while longer.

Instead, you start looking around and you notice that you have fallen onto the edge of a beautiful meadow, flowers sprouting all around you, colors bursting underneath the late afternoon sun. The wind dancing between the petals. The delightfulness of this place fills you in awe, and it only grows bigger when you glance back at him, seeing the perfect man sitting underneath the rays of the sun, the wind ruffling his red and white hair playfully. You think about how it feels to touch this cloud in the afternoon sun.

That is until you finally register his gaze lingering on you. Your eyes widen in surprise and you can’t look him in the face anymore, once again. Nerves get the best of you, as you realize that he must have caught you staring at him and you fiddle with your fingers before you gather some courage to talk to him.

“Uhm, sorry for that, heh… You might be wondering why I’m here, and honestly you won’t even remember me when I’m gone, which is for the best I’m not going to lie. But I still wanted to ask, and I know it’s a weird question, but honestly, my whole day has been so weird, you can’t even believe it. What I mean is, do you happen to know where maybe, just maybe, where the witch of this forest is? I kinda got into that situation and I need help…” After getting everything off your chest, you take a second to take a breather.

“Oh, yes, I know where the witch is–”

“Really? Wow, that’s cool, rad, cool, cool! Oh, do you mind telling me? That would be awesome, for real,” you interrupt him, leaning forward in an outburst of excitement, once again just staring at his face

“No, I don’t mind. It’s simple really. The witch is here,” he answers, and if you’d known it better, you could have sworn to see some mischief glinting in his eyes.

But you’re too distracted, squinting your eyes trying to see anyone else in this open meadow. The witch can’t be hiding in such an open space, so you turn around to look behind you.

You jut your lips out when you couldn’t see anyone in the near distance. “Where? There’s no one here?”

The corners of his lips raise slightly. “Well, because we’re the only two people here, the best conclusion is that I’m the witch, is it not?”

You can only nod slowly, mouth agape and eyes roaming over his figure once again. Now that he mentions it, if you focus a bit on his blue eye, the one seemingly illuminating and softening his scar, you could discern symbols circling his iris, whispering secrets only he is to know.

It takes you a moment to bring these two concepts together, as this turn of events just swept you over in a cold rush. Even if you’re going to be honest with yourself, what did you expect? Some beautiful woman with long black hair, miraculously emerging from the waters of some shallow pond? This probably is your sign to read less fantasy… Does it count as fantasy if witches are apparently real?

You blink and push this thought away, this is really not the time to contemplate the structure of your world. So you take a breath, trying to formulate your thoughts more coherently this time.

“Oh, okay. Uhm, so… hold on, no, how am I supposed to call you? Because there’s no way I’m calling you a witch for, I don’t know how long, but that doesn’t matter… Uhm,” you veer off topic before just introducing yourself in the same breath.

Wow, you did amazing, you should pat yourself on the shoulder, because how can someone start at a point and finish at the wrong place? You bite on your bottom lip, slightly crunching your face. But the moment he says your name, the strain seems to melt off, you’re so taken aback by how elegant your own name sounds from his mouth.

“Nice to meet you, I suppose you can call me Shoto.”

With a nod, you do your best to memorize his name and to replace the imaginary picture of a witch with a replication of him, sitting between the flowers, and you’re aware that your memory could never truly replicate this look, this moment; it always be something faded compared to this, and you curse your insufficient brain capacities. Until you remember the actual reason you came looking for him.

“So, Shoto. I need your help, you know, as the witch, because, uh, I don’t know if you noticed already, but I guess someone cursed me? For some reason. Unrelated to anything really…” you laugh nervously and avoid his gaze “Like no one is able to recognize me, which is weird! I look normal in mirrors, but not in pictures? And, uh, see, I kinda need my face to work, you know? Is there something you could do to help me? You’re my last resort, pretty please?” You had hurried to explain your reasons for arriving at this place before the silence between you could even start, or worse, before he got the time to just stand up and leave.

He leans back and his eyes glance over your face, examining you, and you notice how the contrast between his eyes seems to grow for a moment; one almost glowing eerily while the other darkens to reach the depth of the universe. It feels like you’re in the presence of a supernova, a star about to burst by its seams.

But the moment he blinks with a nod the moment is gone, almost like it never was any different. At least he looks like he found whatever he’s looking for, the curse probably.

“I will help you. But in exchange I do need you to aid me in the time it takes me to break this particular spell,” he sets his condition and slightly cocks his head to the side, waiting for your response.

A wide grin splits your face as he agrees to help you. excitement thrumming through your veins at the prospect of working with an actual witch, and even getting rid of this problem altogether. But you still take your time to weigh the choices in your head.

You don’t really have another choice, do you? Because if you refuse, what are you supposed to do? It’s either you help him with his potions, whatever that requires of you, you’re ready to even give your blood for this, or you just suffer for the rest of your life under this horrid curse of unrecognition. Even if you have to admit that this condition of yours could be a real killer in the shady business of the underground, assassinations, break-ins, or whatever illegal activities they entertain. No one would ever be able to catch you, as you practically have no face to be identified by. If you only possessed more usable skills to pursue this potential path of corruption, but you don’t. So you only truly have one choice left.

You readily agree to his terms, on your own condition, you want to be able to go home at the end of the day. You’d like to enjoy your sleep if you involuntarily have to miss work. With the same reasoning, you promise him to come back tomorrow before you’re already on your way home. You hadn’t noticed how late it already was, because the meeting didn’t feel like it took hours off your day. But who are you to judge the sun for packing up a bit earlier, at least it’s still bright enough for you to walk on your own. And on your trek home, you see his captivating eyes every time you blink, almost being able to feel the difference in temperature, coals and ice, hot and cold.

They haunt you, no matter how often you shake your head to get rid of them. You do have bigger problems to concentrate on. But your worries vanish once you land on your bed, all washed up and in clean clothes. The short hike seems to have taken a toll on you, or maybe the revelation of the whole situation, as you fall asleep as soon as you could even think of sleep.

The next morning you wake up all sore, and you whine into your pillow, already despising the possibility, the simple thought of getting up. Yet you sit up and grab your phone to tell your boss that you’re sick. Which technically isn’t a lie, if something does belong in that section, then it’s a curse for sure, and it’s the best option to not get kicked out again, or fired for not showing up to work.

With that you pat yourself on the back for finding a solution to that particular problem, and for giving yourself at least a week to solve this mess. If it doesn’t work out by then, you’d have to get a doctor’s notice, and you honestly doubt that a doctor can diagnose you with this if they even can recognize anything in the first place.

One problem out of the way, you go through your morning routine to head out to start solving the main problem. You put on some proper clothes for this trip, and this time you’re not keen on not tumbling down a hill, and being aware of the hill in the first place will definitely make it a lot easier.

The way to the meadow turns out to be a lot easier once you know the way, and as a consequence, you gain fewer bruises on the way down. You’re glad for that because the ones you earned yesterday throb every time they get touched, even by the barest breeze. But you will survive this horrendous pain, everything to reach your goal of getting rid of this curse.

If only everything is as easy as you wish it to be. Because the moment you arrive at the border of the meadow, you encounter another problem: Shoto isn’t here today.

You curse under your breath while glancing around the empty open space. What are you supposed to do now? You can’t just walk aimlessly and shout his name into the darkness of the woods. That would be stupid, you don’t know what lurks in its insides, and you’d like to avoid disturbing the wildlife and him, probably, if he is actually living in this forest.

Should you just take a seat in the middle of the meadow? Would he be able to see you from wherever his residence is? Once again you curse, but this time at your inability to plan forward, because you really should’ve asked for some details, but for some reason, his agreement seemed enough for you to just up and leave. Now it is obvious how you didn’t think any of this through.

With a sight, you lightly kick the ground. After you take one last look over the meadow, you decide to walk up the borders of the open space in hopes of finding some sort of hint about his possible whereabouts.

It takes you some time to come across a small river, water glistening clearly under the sun. and you decide to follow it on a whim. Honestly, this is probably the next best thing, because everyone needs some form of water, and this forest has no lake, so the river makes absolutely sense.

The flowing water leads you deeper into the woods, but you can’t actually get lost if you just follow the river in the opposite direction, so you’re not really worried about that.

This decision turns out to be the right one because after some time you spot a cottage in the near distance. Surrounded by bushes and the ivory sparkles under the rays of the sun breaking through the ceiling of leaves. As you step closer, leaving the river behind, you’re able to see the veranda filled with all different kinds of plants in pots, hanging, standing, thriving. You think you can even discern some form of garden on the other side of the building, but you decide to stop in front of the door rather than visit that small space. Who knows how a witch is able to protect their place.

Before you even think about knocking, you note how this place doesn’t look like what you expect of a lair, but honestly, you don’t have any other visual than the gingerbread house, and to be fair, that’s a fairytale and as much as Shoto looks like he came straight out of one, there’s no connection between these two. Not that it matters, you’re certainly not a kid, so you doubt he would eat you, which is unlikable in the first place.

You raise your fist to finally knock on the wood of the door, but before your knuckles could even connect with it, the door actually opens, and you make eye contact with Shoto. You slowly lower your fist and notice how he’s holding a basket in his hand, eyebrows raised in silent surprise. For a moment you both just look at each other in confused surprise until he finally starts speaking.

“Oh, good morning. I didn’t expect you to be here so early. Come in,” he steps aside to fully open the door, inviting you into his home.

With hesitation you step inside, looking around as curiosity tempts you with its soft claws. A smell of a mix of herbs wafts in front of you as you inhale. There is a small seating arrangement, a loveseat, a sofa, an armchair, all resting on top of a soft carpet, inviting you to sit on the ground and enjoy some tea or read a book.

Connected to that space is an open kitchen, to which he heads to, and you hurry to follow his lead. It takes you a moment to take your shoes off, so you can’t help but follow his path carefully, too scared to accidentally disturb this calm space of his.

His home seems rather normal, but once again, what did you expect? Some kind of massive cauldron, some random stuff hanging off the ceilings, or body parts in a mysterious liquid? You should’ve expected this, this is just a normal cottage in the depths of the forest, the only exceptional thing, or person, is Shoto, and you don’t mean him being a witch.

Once you arrive in the space of the kitchen, he motions you to sit at the table, and you do, your expectations getting the best of you and waiting for some form of grimoire to thud onto the table. But nothing of that sort happens, he just sits on the opposite side, leaning his chin in his hand and just looks at you with slightly furrowed brows and a small pout on his lips.

You try your best to stay silent, even if the urge to say something is getting stronger with the second, but you withstand his piercing gaze resting on your hot skin. You bite on your tongue to swallow your question down. Especially when his eyes begin to emit a low light once again, all stormy weather, dark clouds shrouded in lightning.

It abates the moment he hums. “I see. Well, I guess I am able to undo this spell, but we both don’t know anything about the workings of the spell, it probably will take me some time to fix the proper counterspell. For that, I need your presence. Should we get started?” He leans back, his eyes glowing under the sunlight, but this time it feels a lot softer, less like magic and more like a fairy tale.

The next thought you have is filled with indignation because he just assumed you don’t know anything about the spell. Well you don’t, but it’s about the assumption itself, not the fact that you have no idea about this craft. So you can’t really say anything in your defense, because there’s nothing to defend but your pride, and it’s not worth it at the moment.

“Sure thing, but I have to let you know: I know how that woman put this spell on me, and… uh…” you start confidently, only to peter out, not knowing how to continue this trail of thought.

Despite that, he does seem surprised by that in some way, indicated by the way his eyebrows shoot up. “Is that so? Would you mind telling me?”

You almost think to hear some sort of accusation in his tone, but you have no reason or idea why that might be. So you just shrug it off before delving into a short explanation of the events that had occurred to you, until you recount the first meeting with him. Of course, there are some details you omit, because you’d rather not embarrass yourself in front of such a graceful person, because he’s a witch, not because you think he’s so beautiful you might turn blind if you look at him for an extended period of time, that would be ridiculous. Also, telling him about your fall is just unnecessary to the plot of this story, isn’t it?

He nods, eyes telling you that he realizes the omission, but he doesn’t comment on it. At least he seems like he understands more about the situation than you, simply from the description of whatever she had done to you, from whatever you had felt.

“This does help quite a bit. Doesn’t make the process much faster, just easier. Not that it matters, I’m qualified to undo this spell either way.” He stands up and begins to open the cabinets, rummaging through their insides before pulling out a notebook and a pen.

There’s no way this is his spellbook. The place where he keeps his most secret, most important spells. It looks like any ordinary notebook from the store, and it probably is, considering how normal everything looks. Maybe he has a special way of safekeeping?

You squint and stare at the notebook, trying to discover something hidden, but the only thing you see is how Shoto is writing some stuff down, the signs clear and elegant.

Only occasionally does he look up, eyes roaming over your face without sitting still on anything in particular. You doubt he could even if he wanted to.

And now your thoughts wander to the possibility that he would actually want to look at you, how his gaze would soften when caressing your skin, the sun sparkling against his dual-colored eyes, making them glisten with adora–

No, you have to stop here, or you’re not going to survive his presence in the upcoming brewing sessions. Healing sessions… Yeah, healing sessions, because he’s healing your hurt ego, getting rid of your predicament. There’s nothing else to call them. Uncursing? Spell Deletion? No, that sounds ridiculous. Healing sessions sound like some form of therapy, and being in the forest is kind of therapeutic, well, his presence sure is. Not that the name matters, you’re never going to talk about it with anyone, ever.

You blink a couple of times to come back to reality, only to make eye contact with him and your breath hitches. You do your best to act casual and prop your elbow onto the back of the chair but you slip and you have to catch yourself with a jerk.

A nervous laugh escapes you and you lean back, crossing your arms in front of your chest to get rid of your fidgeting. You avoid looking into his eyes this time, focusing on the fringe falling onto his forehead, red and white braiding into each other seamlessly.

He doesn’t even bother to say anything about what just happened and just goes straight to business. “Here’s what we’re going to do in the next few days,” he starts explaining like you just didn’t utterly embarrass yourself in front of him. “I doubt a counterspell will work without consequences because we don’t know the exact working of your curse, even if I have a good idea of it. Still, I don’t want to risk it, so I’m simply going to brew a potion, which will wear it out until it disperses on its own. That means we have to go out and collect some necessary materials. We’re going to do that later though, as there are some preparations I have to make first.”

With that, he closes his notebook and leaves it on the table as he stands up. He motions you to follow him and you leave the house at his heels.

Outside he pulls some sort of platter from below a table and hands it to you before he kneels on the ground in front of a pot in the form of a long rectangle. Inside it is a green plant, stalks spreading out like rays of the sun, leaves tiny and feather-like.

“These are Maidenhair Ferns, also called The Hair of Venus. They could have some effect on your current condition, but we have to dry them first for their potency to unfold. I’m going to take care of the cutting of the plant and I ask you to put them neatly onto the platter. That way we can continue our work at a faster rate,” he explains, his gaze only brushing over you before leading his focus back onto the plant in front of him.

You nod, even though you’re not sure he could register this movement with the way he’s intently looking at the leaves of the ferns. You still take a seat by his side and put the big plate on your lap, ready to receive the first leaves and stems.

At first there isn’t a lot for you to do, so you’re busy looking around, taking in the sights of the forest, enjoying the sun on your face, but soon enough you start taking the stalks filled with neat leaves and arrange them properly on the plate, trying to avoid stacking them as much as possible.

Luckily, he doesn’t pick that many plants for you to even begin thinking of that possible problem too much. With a platter covered with just the right amount of leaves, he finally turns around to face you.

“We need to pluck the leaves from the stem because each part is different, and will need a different time to properly dry. We only need the leaves for the potion, but I’d hate to waste the rest,” he murmurs, his long, nimble fingers already running along the stem of one of the plants, picking the leaves off with careful fingertips, barely staining his nail beds in the process.

You proceed to take one fern in your hand, trying your best to imitate him and to rip the leaves at the right spot and not rip them apart accidentally. Sticking your tongue slightly between your teeth in concentration, you manage to not destroy the first fern, even if the process has gotten a bit messy, your fingers turning slightly green. You begin to understand why people who garden have a ‘green thumb’.

You both work in a comfortable silence for some time, simply enjoying the repetitive motion. Before you even dare to think about standing up, you both make sure that everything is properly separated and not layered. Just then you stand up and follow him around the corner to some sort of backyard. You reckon this is the place you glanced at earlier. There’s a table standing out in the open, and he motions you to put the platter you were carrying onto its surface. In that position, the sun is going to dry them for you, essentially doing the work for you.

The moment your hands are free, you get the urge to stretch into the rays of the sun, your blurry, lidded gaze glancing over the edge of the open space between the bushes. And that’s where you spot it. A beautiful deer.

With a silent gasp, you blindly try to tap Shoto on the shoulder, accidentally brushing against his jaw in your hurry. Normally you would apologize, but you don’t dare tear your eyes away from the deer, much less make a noise, in fear of it disappearing without a trace. The doe, you correct yourself, as it lacks any form of horns.

“Oh,” you hear Shoto say softly under his breath, finally spotting the deer too.

For a moment you both just stay silent, not daring to even move too much, simply enjoying the mesmerizing sight of a doe under the shining sun, framed by the lush green of the forest. That is until the deer just turns around and jumps away like it just doesn’t care about you both just staring at it in awe.

You release a small puff of air, some tension releasing as you had been too caught up in the moment. Turning around in his direction, you regret even breathing the second you lock eyes with Shoto, his face closer to you than you had anticipated. It seems like you both have moved closer in that short moment, huddling together for some reason at the mere sight of the doe.

Your eyes jump over his dark eye to the lightning blue one, electrifying you like a summer storm, and you wonder if he’s gotten hit by lightning itself, resulting in these mesmerizing eyes, and the scar around that bright eye, the only blemish on his smooth, soft looking skin. Maybe it’s connected to his powers, to these symbols deep inside the blue, unreadable to you.

To avoid staring at his scar, your gaze travels over his high cheekbones to his plumb lips, and you could almost imagine them quirking slightly, the moment before he reveals a true laugh of joy out of his soul. This thought startles you and you immediately take a step back, bumping into the corner of the table.

A low whimper escapes as you double over, clutching your wounded side in a dramatic manner. At least now you’ve got a reason to avoid looking at him, to avoid getting lost in all these daydreams about him and…

“Are you okay? Did you hit a sensitive spot?” he asks, worry tinting his voice as he puts his hand softly on your back.

You nod at first before you begin to shake your head, these two questions colliding in your head, all while you try to ignore the possible innuendo. If you step into that territory of thought, you might as well run into the woods and bury yourself in some random cave, to never face him again.

The pain slowly abates after you take a couple of breaths to calm yourself down. It’s going to form a bruise, which isn’t that big of a deal, but you wish it wouldn’t feel like something had impaled your guts.

Straightening up, you show him a thumbs up, even if his slightly furrowed eyebrows and jutted lips show that he isn’t quite convinced. But he doesn’t look like he’s going to fight you over that, so his hand leaves your back. The spot is suddenly so cold, and you can’t help but miss the warmth of his skin, even through clothing.

You try your best to divert his attention away, and maybe yours too, as you look around, in particular to avoid looking at his face. You spot some form of wooden fence, probably a small garden, and you step in its direction with a craning neck to see what he could have planted there.

“Oh, is that a garden? What did you put there? Do you sustain yourself like that? How do you know what soil to use for what plant? Are these to eat or just for your potions?” These questions pour out of your mouth, the perfect distraction for you both as you don’t have to pull out some random question out of nowhere. And you’re genuinely interested.

He seems to have noticed your attempt at distraction according to his rising eyebrows, but he still indulged you and steps closer to the high edge of the garden and you join him close behind him.

With a soft voice he starts explaining the use of each herb, each fruit and plant, patiently pointing toward them, all while mentioning neat little details, like their harvest season, how picky certain plants are. And you can’t help but be captivated by his knowledge and the way he shares it. Even if you sometimes break out of the immersion of his voice when your eyes begin to roam over his face instead of listening.

Time passes with you both kneeling in the soft grass and inspecting the little space filled with love. You only notice how late it has gotten with the way your eyelids feel heavy, your gaze unfocusing and hazy. And as much as you’d love to just take a nap in the middle of the grass under this beautiful weather, you have to get home before that.

So with a goodbye and a promise to return tomorrow, you make your way home, the way easier to walk as your body starts to memorize the path. You could say you could find the way to the cottage in your sleep with how tired you currently feel.

It’s no wonder you barely remember getting ready for bed, much less going to sleep because your brain is practically already out of commission before that happens.

The next day you wake up with a satisfied groan. You’ve never felt this refreshed in your life before, and when you glance at the time, you startle, realizing why. You’ve overslept, you’re late for work! You immediately stand up, heart beating a frenzy in your chest and your arms tremble slightly. With a sudden rush, you remember how you had taken sick leave just yesterday, and you slump back onto your bed.

With a shaken sigh, you sink back into your pillow. You could have slept a bit more, but it seems like your internal clock was keen on terrorizing you today. And with that rush of adrenaline, you might as well stay up and get ready to visit Shoto today.

You take your time to eat breakfast and just enjoy the silence of your home before you make yourself ready for the way. You also check on the state of your food, in case you need to get some groceries. But you don’t, so you clean your place a bit before heading out.

And once again you step through the same path you’ve been visiting the last few days, and you wonder if it would inevitably become some sort of established path with the amount of walking you’ve been doing between the same couple of trees. Maybe you should start changing the route a bit the next couple of times.

You arrive in front of his door and this time you’re able to knock on the door before it’s ripped open, and you startle by the look Shoto throws out of the door, all narrow eyes and downturned lips, almost resembling a snarl. You hesitate in asking if something is wrong. His eyes blink before recognizing you, in the widest sense, and his whole face seems to almost soften. With no exchange of words, he steps to the side and opens the door for you to step in.

Mirroring the day before, he makes way for the table and sits down, waiting for you to do the same. And you do, because you’ve been walking closely behind him.

His notebook is already open on the surface of the table, and he leans slightly forward. “The leaves of yesterday still need some time to fully dry, so today we should go out and collect some other stuff I mentioned yesterday. Is that alright with you?”

You would do anything to get rid of that curse on your face, so of course it’s alright with you, and you nod to show him that. He also nods in confirmation before closing his notebook and grabbing a basket to put whatever you will collect today inside.

While he is doing that, you hurry to the door to open it up for him, even bowing slightly with a grin across your face and the moment he passes by you, you think to see a small smile on his lips, amusement sparkling clearly in his face.

After closing the door behind you, you follow him to take his side as he ventures deeper into the forest. His steps are purposeful, and you’re sure he knows where to find the target material. Still, you wish you could help with whatever he’s looking for, but you doubt you would be able to recognize it even if he told you the name of it. Despite that, you’re happy to listen when he starts talking, explaining what he’s looking for.

“I have some vague idea of what could help against your current ailment. Right now, I’m looking for a Bird’s Eye…” he trails off as he seems to have spotted something.

This revelation confuses you. What does he mean with a Bird’s Eye? Is he going to pluck the eyeballs of some poor bird? Is that something he usually does? He doesn’t seem like the person to entertain such thoughts. You want to ask him if there’s another way, but he had vanished between some bushes.

You swallow down the tremble in your throat and fight through the shrubbery to catch up to him. You emerge a couple of steps next to the spot he’s bending over. With some paces to place yourself at his side, only to see him hold some sort of purple plant delicately between his fingers. Petals growing upward the long stem to a soft point. A lavender plant… A Veronica… And suddenly you feel stupid for still assuming something without real proof. Still, you can’t help the relieved breath you let out.

Straightening up, Shoto shoots you a look, all hidden crinkles, and creasing eyes, almost like he’s making fun of you, like he’s amused at your obvious relief. “Seems like you had expected something else, didn’t you?” he asks, his gaze resting somewhere on your cheek.

“Uh, what else am I supposed to think? Telling me, ‘oh yeah, we need some bird’s eye’, doesn’t sound like, I don’t know, like you’re about to pluck an eyeball? How am I– hold on, did you do that on purpose?” you gasp at your own accusation. “You did! That’s so mean of you, I can’t believe you would use my trust like that!”

You pout slightly, even if you doubt he could see it properly, so you cross your arms in front of you to show your stance on things right now, even if you’re aware that you look overly dramatic. But that’s the point.

Your stance doesn’t seem to affect him, because you suddenly hear a light chuckle escape his lips, and when you glance at his face, you can clearly see how his lips quirked up in a silent laugh, all soft and delicate.

While you’re staring at him, you’re suddenly glad he can’t see your face clearly, because you probably look stunned, amazed, stupefied, and every other word to describe the way your eyes widen and your mouth standing slightly agape.

His eyes wander over your face, eyebrows scrunched up as if he wants to see whatever the fog is hiding behind that blur. Whatever he’s looking for doesn’t seem to be there, because the frown only deepens before he turns back to the flower in his hand, putting it carefully into the basket.

“These are the flowers we’re looking for. Do you mind picking some up?” he asks, already doing so himself, inspecting each one carefully to only select the ones most fitting.

You nod and diligently begin to pick the ones you seem worthy, collecting them into some sort of bouquet in your other hand. After a while, your hand is barely able to hold onto more, and you’re quite content with the look of your makeshift bouquet. Not being able to resist the urge, you tap him on the shoulder and hold it under his nose.

“Please accept this!” you say dramatically, acting like you just confessed your undying love to him, but you couldn’t stay serious long enough to wait for his response, especially after seeing his raised eyebrow. You burst into laughter. “Sorry, sorry! I just thought it looked like a bouquet, so–”

“Oh, so you wanted to offer me the Eye of a Bird? How romantic,” he drawls, his mouth puckered and eyebrows high on his forehead. Only the gleam in his eyes seems to betray his serious stance.

You nod with a muffled giggle. “The peak of modern romance, of course! You deserve nothing less than the best.”

He takes the flowers from your outreached hand and inspects them, acting too critical of your offering before nodding in approval. “I shall accept these, but only this time.”

You gasp, a hand over your heart. “Only this time? My good sir, then I shall prepare something more glamorous, something you can’t refuse for the next time!” you declare with a boisterous voice and a puffed chest.

Once again his lips purse in consideration. “Well, I don’t know if this is possible, there won’t be a next time, that’s for certain. You shan’t woe me this easily.”

“We shall see how this turns out,” you puff with arrogance, only to break down in little giggles.

The moment you break the immersion, he too breaks his facade with a broad smile, pearly teeth on display and eyes crinkling with happiness and mischief. With the breeze ruffling his hair he looks like the image of pure bliss.

His obvious happiness makes you smile, and you have to catch yourself before you let out a dreamy sigh. You have no other choice but to break the line of sight, lest you do something you might regret, especially with the way your insides feel all soft and malleable at his sight, full, ready to give something to always enjoy the way he seems to be in such peace. But you can’t give in, no matter how much your heart seems to plead with your senses. You should not do this, you shouldn’t even think like this in the first place.

So you redirect all your focus into picking the perfect flowers, paying close attention to the details. With that, you both slowly fill the basket, and before you know it, the evening sun is shining through the leaves, putting everything in a soft orange glow.

The full basket has gotten quite heavy and you both decide to share the burden, each one of you grabbing a side of the handle to carry it together. This arrangement is there to make it easier for you both, so no problems should arise. Even if the path you’re taking is narrow in some passages and trying to get through them together, side by side, his shoulder ends up bumping, brushing against yours more often than not. And every time this contact happens, you do your best to not flinch away or to think too closely about the warmth he radiates; avoiding leaning closer to him than you already are.

Finally, you arrive at the cottage and you feel like you have lost all breath in your lungs, most of it evaporating by the simple look at him, by the simple brush. Despite needing some space, you continue to help him carry the basket to some sort of designated space inside the house. And once you get rid of that weight, you stretch your arms above your head, hearing a silent yet satisfying crack.

Feeling the need to rest outside, even if you just were under the open sky, you take some slow steps out of the door, because you desperately need a moment to breathe without being scared of brushing against him.

That’s how you end up sitting on his veranda. The sun had already set and darkness is swallowing the forest, which is now filled with entirely new noises and movements. Despite the lack of light and the unknown biting at your toes, you don’t feel unsafe or in danger, rather the silence and the cool breeze have a calming effect on you.

With a roaming look into the sky, you notice the amount of stars visible against the deep blue of the night. Without any trees obstructing your sight and no artificial lights destroying their twinkle, you can’t help but be entranced with them. You’re so fixated on their beauty that you almost miss Shoto taking a seat by your side.

For a moment you both stay silent, arm against arm, shoulder against shoulder, knee brushing a thigh, and this time you don’t even dare to hold your breath. You feel the desire to lean against him, to feel his breath flutter against your skin. But you’re satisfied with this moment, with the way he seems to glow under the stars, giving him a halo of silver light.

Only because you’ve been staring at him do you notice when he stretches his hand into the sky and lets his finger connect individual stars into constellations. You squint, trying to see the lines from your perspective but you struggle a bit as everything is shifted, so you don’t even know which stars are connected despite following the way his finger moves.

He seems to notice your struggle, as he scoots closer, his front now almost touching your back, his head hovering over your shoulder to get down to your height. After settling like that he carefully grabs your fingertips and waits for you to pull away or to react in any way to show him your rejection, but you don’t. You rather marvel at how soft his skin feels against yours in that feather-light touch.

His hand leads your fingers to make a fist with only your index finger pointing out. With your hand like that, he rests his palm against the back of your hand, on your wrist. Positioned like that he slowly begins to show you the constellations with your own finger, all while making sure it’s visible from your perspective. While guiding you, he softly murmurs their names and the planets and stars, explaining everything and yet nothing, because you’re almost too focused on his breath against your face, the way his chin brushes against your shoulder, and you try your best to not turn around to directly face him.

After some time you do begin to relax and to enjoy all this information and the light contact. You end up leaning against his torso, his cheek resting on your head, and you both remain like that for some time, simply soaking in the presence, the silence and the warmth between you.

So it’s no wonder how you barely notice the atmosphere wrapping around you, lulling you into something peaceful and welcoming.

You only notice how gone you were when the sun's rays hit your face softly, waking you up with their soft kisses, and you can’t even be mad at being woken up like that. It is comfortable and warm. Still, the moment you open your eyes, you startle slightly at the sight of the unfamiliar, yet familiar ceiling. You slowly sit up and a patchwork blanket slides off your shoulders to bunch around your waist.

With a quick look at your surroundings, you realize where you are: the cottage. And with that realization you put the pieces together: You fell asleep on him, while stargazing, while holding his hand.

You bury your face in your hands, embarrassment flooding your ears. You hope you didn’t mumble, or worse, drool in your sleep. Or you might simply never look him in the face again.

Peaking between your fingers, you spot him in the open kitchen, silently working on something over the stove, his back turned towards you.

“Breakfast is almost done. You can freshen up a bit, I put some clothes that might fit you in the bathroom,” his voice sounds and you flinch, surprised he had noticed you being awake. “It wasn’t difficult, you made quite some noise.”

You frown, jutting your lips out. Is he reading your thoughts? Is that one of the abilities of witches? You sure hope it isn’t, or else he would know about everything that had crossed your mind in his presence… You desperately want to avoid this possibility, but it can’t hurt to try. So you think of something so stupid, so outrageous, he has no choice but to react.

I couldn't read the witch's handwriting at all, she always wrote in curse-ive.

You almost hit your own face with a groan, but you keep your gaze on his back, trying to see if this entices any form of reaction out of him. But nothing happens and you just sigh, even if you’re still curious how he had guessed your thoughts to that degree. Maybe you should ask him later…

A shrug and you stretch the last bit of heaviness out of your limbs before you grab the blanket to fold it and to put it neatly onto the sofa you’ve been sleeping on. It would be rude to leave it crumbled like that, especially after he put the effort to carry… you… For a moment you stop in your tracks and just blink blanky at the blanket in front of you.

He carried you… and put a blanket over you… He carried you…?

This realization hits you like a swinging bat and you have to bite on your lower lip to suppress a gasp. Your eyes jump to his figure, making sure he’s not looking at you, his back still turned towards you, and you slowly make your way to the bathroom, your joints feel like they’re locked up and creaking like a bad oiled machine.

Once you arrive in the bathroom, you close the door behind you and lean heavily on the sink. You feel like you just gave yourself some serious whiplash. So, with a deep breath, you begin to splash your face with cold water, trying to calm yourself down before you turn around to look at the clothes he had prepared for you. Holding the shirt in front of you, you decide that it will fit you even though it might be a bit loose, but you can’t complain about that.

With that you change into the fest pair of clothes, folding your clothes neatly. You don’t even take the time to look into the mirror to check how they fit, almost afraid of what you might see.

You leave the bathroom with another stretch and enter the open kitchen to offer your help to him, but he refuses politely because he already plated the table and there’s simply not enough space for the both of you to cook something without elbowing each other.

So you take a seat at the table, resting your head on your palm, content with just watching him being busy with the food preparation. He moves with a practiced hand, movements smooth and elegant. You can only observe as his surprisingly broad shoulders move, muscles stretching and filling his shirt. Your eyes wander over his lean back and you purse your lips the moment you see his small waist. You wonder if you would be able to put your arms around his whole torso, or your legs…

You inhale sharply, immediately averting your eyes to the window, trying to divert your thoughts to something else, anything but to look back to his direction. It’s a beautiful day outside, there’s no need to stay in the bedroom, or inside, no need to have any thoughts relating to inside activities.

Your gaze jumps around, looking for something to latch onto, but there’s nothing but the wonderful depth of the forest, which isn’t quite enough to distract you from the possible way his muscles could coil when he leans over you…

A bite to the inside of your cheek brings you out of that train of thoughts, and you’re aware of how you need something more concrete for your distraction, like that deer. But you could only vaguely discern some movements in the bushes and nothing really stepped out of the shadows.

The clatter of a plate disrupts your almost desperate search as Shoto puts a plate in front of you, and you can’t stop the excited grin spreading over your face at its contents. He made some waffles, toppings dripping down its sides and its smell luring you in to take the first bite. It looks delicious, an absolute masterpiece. And you can’t resist it, barely taking your time to thank him properly for his efforts, before digging in and letting the soft dough melt over your tongue. You close your eyes and you almost moan out of delight, the taste an explosion of pure bliss. Instead of embarrassing yourself like that, you just stuff your mouth with another bite.

And before you know it, the plate is empty, leaving you full, yet yearning for more. But you doubt you could even manage to get another bite down and just slump backward into the back of the chair, feeling some kind of satisfied drowsiness.

“Shoto, my man, this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten. You got some magic hands,” you tell him and grin widely when he raises his eyebrows at your choice of words.

Instead of properly answering your compliment, he lets out a puff of air before beginning to collect the empty dishes. You immediately stand up, keen on helping him this time around, especially when you don’t need much space to do the dishes. That’s how you end up drying the washed dishes and putting them away in their respective places. Of course not without him showing you where they belong first.

With this arrangement, you finish doing the dishes at a faster rate. He’s drying his hands as he turns around to look at you. “I’m going to brew the potion today, or at least try to. Feel free to take a book to entertain yourself for the time being.”

He points to the huge shelf covering the entire wall of the living room and you gape slightly at its size. How did you miss that in the first place? Even if you have been distracted by a lot of things, this thing is huge, there’s no way you could have just not seen it.

You barely give him a nod before immediately stepping closer to the shelf, running your fingers along the spines of the books. So many different topics, genres and authors, and there is no way Shoto didn’t read them all. No wonder he has such huge amounts of knowledge. After you have taken a couple of strides along the length of the shelf, you finally choose one of the books and take it out of its place.

With it firmly in your palm, you go and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Once you’re in the perfect position you start reading, thumbing through the book about heroes and their powers, and your brain rattles with all the possibilities and the groundwork of this fictional world.

The background is filled with the sound of utensils clashing and clattering, soft blubbering of his potion, and after a couple of pages, you decide to take a look from afar.

He’s still in the kitchen, bending over his work, a slight furrow between his eyebrows, a thoughtful pout tugging at his lips. And you just look. Just admire the evenly split hair of red and white softly falling, framing his face, the calm demeanor revealing his kind heart. You smile. You can’t help but think, these thoughts filling your veins, coming from your heart, how charming he looks, how beautiful, how handsome. Despite being aware that this relationship is entirely contractual, the chance of seeing him again after this ordeal is slim, you admit to yourself, you like him, a lot. And there’s no way to truly know how he feels about you. To him, you’re probably just another person requiring his services, nothing more, nothing less, only bound by the verbal deal you’ve made.

This realization makes you smile bittersweetly, already accepting the outcome. So you try to get back into the book, to put your focus back on the ongoing plot. But your thoughts circle back to the endless ways this could end, the endless ways this could turn and bend. And no matter how badly you wish for it to end otherwise, every path leads to the same blocked path, a deal done, a face regained and a connection lost. Who are you to interfere with fate?

You force yourself to face it, to accept it, no matter how much your heart resists. It will hurt, but everything turns out to be how it’s supposed to be.

A breath and you begin to digest the story word by word, forcing yourself to take them in until you finally relax and get into the flow of the story and its plot, all while the background noises fade out of your consciousness.

You feel yourself clutching at your non-existent pearls as you near the end of the book when Shoto walks up to you, nudging your foot with his to get your attention. And once you look up from your book, he holds a cup with some sort of tea in your direction. With thanks you take it and immediately sip from the warm liquid.

“I thought you’re supposed to brew that potion?” you ask him, cupping your hands to warm your palms on the glazed ceramic.

“I was. That’s the potion in your hand,” he answers and the corners of his mouth slightly dip upward.

You startle at this revelation and almost let the cup drop. “Wh-what? You could’ve said that earlier!”

“How could I when you so eagerly took it from my hands before I could even say anything?” he chuckles and cocks his head to the side, eyes crinkling at your shocked face.

You gape at him and look at the half-empty cup in your hands, then back at him. “Are you messing with me? It feels like you’re messing with me…”

He shakes his head. “As amusing that would be, I’m not. You’re drinking the potion right now. It will probably take some odd hours to take full effect, if at all.”

Slowly you nod and just down the rest of the tea-potion in one big gulp. You exhale and the warmth of the tea coupled with the late hour begins to make you quite drowsy. There’s no way you’re staying two nights at his place, that would be just so utterly rude of you, especially if you’re going to lend out some of his stuff. That means it’s time for you to head home, as much as you’d like to stay on the couch and continue reading.

You close the book and return it to its place before you thank him once again and take your stuff. With everything in hand you begin your way home, the evening still young and the wood still filled with enough light to not get hurt when crossing it.

Finally arriving home without accidents, the first thing you do is change out of the borrowed clothes and prepare them to wash later so you can return them to him. And you start doing your nighttime routine, even if the initial drowsiness is now gone for some reason, but you’d like to be prepared for the moment you feel tired again, and maybe you need some distraction. If you don’t, you might as well go insane with anticipation, literally expecting something to happen immediately.

This anticipation fills you with adrenalin or something, because for some time you just walk around your place aimlessly, not able to settle down without feeling your heart race. You finally settle on your bed with your phone in hand, trying to calm down to the best of your abilities. It doesn’t quite work, because you realize you never asked Shoto for his number, you never felt the need to, and maybe you shouldn’t even ask in the first place.

You sigh and roll around, beginning to scroll through whatever apps you have in rotations, and you only stop to scratch at your tingling face. At first you don’t think too much about it, as it only itches around your mouth. But then the itch begins to spread over your cheek and you have to stop everything you’re doing, because you have to know if you suddenly have some sort of allergic reaction. After thinking for a while, you don’t remember eating something that could elicit such a reaction, so it can’t be that.

It takes you a moment to realize what that could mean and you jump off the bed, rushing to the mirror only to stop in the middle of the way when you remember that mirrors don’t show your problem with your looks. So you race back and dive for your phone, almost hitting your head on the headboard. You don’t pay attention to that though as you’re opening the camera, facing it towards you.

After you take a picture in semi-good lightning, you click into your gallery, only to see the newest pic and stare at it. There’s you! With every single feature you remember and cherish.

And before you know it, you’re already out the door, dashing through the streets and into the woods. You know you should be careful about tripping, but the need to see him, to thank him, to hug him, is overwhelming. Excitement is coursing through your veins, giving you a boost in energy and you feel laughter bubbling through your lungs.

Then you stumble. Unlike the first time, you don’t immediately take a tumble down the hill, because someone catches you right on time, long before you could even get closer to the ground. You grab their arm to straighten up and end up looking directly into Shoto’s eyes. For a moment you just stare at him, mesmerized by his glittering, compelling eyes, by the way you can so clearly see them despite the darkness surrounding you both.

His words bring you back to reality. “Oh, back so soon?”

“Wh– huh? How? I mean, yes, but how did you know it’s me?” you ask bewildered, shutting your mouth with some force before you keep it open when you remember that he can see your expressions now.

He smiles, plush lips revealing perfect teeth, eyes crinkling with obvious joy while roaming over every detail of your face, taking their time over every little feature; almost like he finally found whatever he has been looking for every time he glanced in your direction. One of his hands cups your face, caressing your skin. You lean involuntarily into his touch, enjoying the soft skin on yours more than you should have.

His next words make your heart beat faster than you thought possible, and suddenly a new path opens itself before you.

“My dear, I would always recognize you, no matter what.”

[amphiptere-art]

What is Truth?

Prologue. The elevator broke after the recent run. The second group that was supposed to go in after is therefore waiting. Dandy has been trying to fix the elevator for a bit. Being the person that operates the elevator. There are also other characters present I'm just not drawing or verbalizing them.

Dandy, Vee, Roger, Tisha, Boxten.

(Generalized mumbling of worries and concerns.)

I can't believe the elevator broke. It's been running fine. What could have even caused that jolt?

I sure hope dandy can get it up and running. So many are still stuck out there.

I'm sure It will get fixed eventually. We'll be able to get to the others.

But what if it takes too long? You know it gets worse with time.

Yah... But! We will always be friends. Vee was able to recognize us eventually. It's not impossible.

I know. I'm just- I don't want to lose more friends because we can't get there quickly.

It will be all right Tisha. I'm sure we'll be able to save some of our friends soon.

I don't think we're going to be saving any friends soon. Everything's all jumbled down here, and I still haven't found the problem.

Of course you wouldn't care about the fact that are friends are stuck up there. I bet you're not even fixing it.

That's not what I meant Vee.

Oh, says the guy that stays in the elevator all day. And keeps half of the supplies to himself to sell for some useless junk!

I'm just helping the way-

You're not helping! Do you realize that some of us would like to use that stuff for free? Or how much an extra hand is actually worth? Where the hell do you even get those supplies?

She's right. You're keeping something from us. No matter how many times we've gotten Pebble back with kisses and cuddles. He always seems to just twist for no reason. Plus the fact that people just disappear with you. You took Shelly to help you with something, and no one's seen her since!

Something's going on dandy and every one of us know. We just tolerate you because we have to. Just because you're supposed to be the "bestest friend ever". Doesn't mean any of us believe that.

So what do you have to say for yourself?

......

(Curr-Clank!)

What! You little weed, you can't just leave! Come back out here and own up!

Oh dear!

What? No! Dandy needs to fix the-!

(bang bang)

Dandy you jerk! Come back out here! Tell us what the hell you're hiding! You can't just disappear when we need you!

Vee! Stop! You're going to make it worse!

There's not even a way to open those doors Vee.

Why the hell should I stop! You all know he's behind this!

It doesn't matter! Dandy is the only one that can operate the elevator! He's the only reason we can even go out and find the others!

I'm sure there's other ways!

We don't have other ways right now! We need dandy up and happy, not hiding and-...

We don't have another choice. One time I got a good look down there, and I don't understand any of it. Is Dandy's too upset to fix it then-

Then we have no way to go anywhere. As unfair as it is. We can't do anything against him. As much as he deserves it, we have no way to do anything Vee.

Tch- He has a monopoly over this whole place.

Well... There's nothing we can do. Let's just leave dandy alone for now. Hopefully he'll fix it in his own time.

Agh! Fine!

Stupid dandy and getting all he wants. We're going to be stuck in this terrible loop forever.

Do you think he's okay? He's never really gotten upset over something like this.

Oh I'm sure he's fine. He's probably down there holding back all this twisted anger or something. Unlike the rest of us. He knows how to reverse it.

Ok. Sometimes I just think... It's something else.

End...

[meanbossart]

DU drow asks time

Lore questions/sweet messages/stuff that made me laugh that's about DU drow specifically that I decided to compile in a single post!

First of all, "outraged to be used as a medium for old man gay divorce" is a hysterical sentence LOL

As for his thoughts on the Ansur debacle? Negative ones. He hates the emperor, he doesn't care about his third-time-twist real identity, he doesn't particularly care about Wyll either (well - he kind of finds him entertaining, he's kind of really frustrated by him, it's complicated) but he saved his dad on a whim to spite Mizora anyway. BUT HEY, all that trouble would have been worthwhile if he's about to get an ancient dragon fighting alongside him - this old duke sounds a little too confident in this fairy tale, but stranger things have happened, right?

Then the situation unfolds as it does, and if he wasn't eager enough to use that orphic hammer before, he certainly is now. There is very little that the Emperor does past Act 3 that DU drow doesn't find a way to twist into something that confirms his resolve against him. If he could have taken Ansur's side in that fight, he would have - not that he shed any tears over killing him either.

Sick sword though, that helped soothe his nerves a bit and I'm sure spared everyone a little bit of a tantrum at camp later.

HAHAHAHA I can't confirm nor deny because I see so few large body-type elves as it is (which is fair, elves aren't usually... That massive). I did set age to 50% because it does look a little weird when it's all smooth. Maybe that's the trick?

Though I guess if you find it unsettling, then... No wonder it suits him! however this just looks like an impressively handsome fella to me, to be honest. I insist on fucking him up further whenever I draw him for that reason.

Thank you so much for following along and for giving the fic a try!!! And no worries, english isn't my native tongue either so I've been there 😎👍

I do actually have a couple of very short comics planned that take place pre-tadpole, but my backlog of WIPs is... Massive. Not to mention the commission work I do (currently not taking any more). I have one that's about his first interaction with Orin and another about a business dinner with Gortash gone-wrong, but I have no clue when I'll be able to work on them. Hopefully soon though!

You know, I've always hoped that after I died I'd be remembered as the guy who inspired others to make their nipples card-swipe-able.

Joke's aside, thank you LOL I love that my guys' nips have taken up non-insignificant room in your mind, it's always comforting to know that you aren't the only one.

Piercings and the such aren't really his style though. While he finds his scar-work weirdly comforting, he isn't so interested in aesthetic results as much as he just enjoys having pain inflicted upon him in a controlled environment, by people that he loves - He doesn't recall this post-tadpole, but the scars were a result of a kind of... Recurring ritual between himself and Orin that served to replace normal intimacy, pretty much.

Since you touched on it though, I do like to believe that Astarion finds his cut-up body fun, both on the eyes and on the hands LOL.

I'm starting to think you guys are all in on this. It's like the fifth time someone catches me in the act - god damn it, is it that obvious that I wanna slide down Peter Steele's cold corpse like he's a a ride at the Magical Ice kingdom... Which is to say, yes, both the guy and his music are not-so-lowkey a big inspiration behind a lot of DU drow's characterization!

That's all for now folks, thank you so much for the asks!!! This isn't all of them but I try not to spam people's feeds when I can help it/space them out. I see all of your messages and I guarantee you that if I have an interesting answer for them, you will see a reply eventually!

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Bouquet

Maybe he should have brought the other man some chocolates, or maybe roses would have been the better choice. Maybe he should have gotten him a card or one of those giant stuffed bears.

But surely, Harry thought as he marched through the halls of St. Mungo’s, he should have brought something other than himself.

Before he could do anything about it, though, he was in the door to Draco’s office, staring at him. His fingers were threaded through his hair where his head rested on his hand, his glasses (only worn when he was doing paperwork, Harry knew) were slightly crooked, and he yawned as he scratched more notes in with his quill. His healer’s robe was tossed over the back of his chair, leaving him in his slightly rumpled white button up and his grey slacks. He looked like a dream and Harry just wanted to scoop him up and hold him, let Draco rest his weary body against him.

Shaking his head at himself, he knocked on the door frame and Draco startled, snapping his attention to Harry.

“Harry!” he exclaimed, tossing his glasses on top of the pile of papers as he stood and made his way over, hands already reaching out to heal, “what is it? Are you alright? Have you torn out one of the stitches on your side?” he asked, fingers tugging the hem of Harry’s jumper up as he asked, “I told you that you needed to be careful-”

“I don’t want you to be my healer,” Harry blurted.

“What?” Draco asked, his hands falling away from Harry, face pinched in hurt, “why?” he whispered, before a professional mask snapped into place and he stepped back. “You’re welcome to do as you see fit,” he said, voice cool. “Has my care been insufficient in some way, Mr. Potter?”

“Draco,” he said, realizing his mistake. “That’s not what I meant.”

“So you do want me to be your healer?” he asked in confusion.

He shook his head, “no but only because St. Mungos has rules about that.”

“About what?” he asked, drawing his wand and casting a spell that Harry knew well.

“I don’t have a concussion,” he said. “Just,” he huffed and grabbed Draco’s hands in his. “I like you. I want to take you out to dinner, I want to get to know you better. And I want to eventually kiss you and hopefully do other stuff with you,” he added, delighted by the flush covering Draco’s cheeks. “But I can’t do any of those things if you’re my healer, so I’d like a new healer, please.”

Draco blinked and him, “and if I turn you down?”

“Then I’d still like a new healer because I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye. I’d rather let my injuries kill me in the field.”

He huffed a laugh. “Dramatic.”

“Are you turning me down?” Harry asked and he felt Draco’s hands squeeze his.

“Of course not, don’t be daft.”

The smile that split his face felt like it was almost too much, his whole chest was bursting with happiness. “What day would work for you?”

“Is today too soon?” he asked, glancing at his desk. “You’d have to wait a few minutes for me to finish my paperwork-”

“Today’s perfect,” he enthused. “I don’t mind waiting.” And today was the first day of many that Harry spent waiting for the other man, but Harry didn’t mind. He knew that some things were worth the wait.

——————————

Written for @hdcandyheartsfest prompt ‘bouquet’

[batsplat]

thoughts on the latest casey interview? it’s so funny because I keep seeing people posting different excerpts of it on here depending on which guy they like lol

well, first off, this is how I found out there IS a new casey interview. I did have a quick dig around whether I could un-paywall the original but. no luck. so I'm basing this on the write up in mowmag - which passes the test in that, unlike certain websites, it actually addresses multiple things casey said on different topics. so hopefully isn't just the most clickbait-y material and is a relatively exhaustive summary of the stuff he said. no cherry picking on THIS blog

anyway, my main takeaway is that it's probably for the best that the casey/valentino relationship doesn't get TOO warm, because if you ever put these two on a podcast together the resulting material could level continents. I still stand by my belief that these two could have co-hosted an all time great conspiracy theorist youtube show in another life. what a pair of guys

my other takeaway is that, despite working for them as a test rider AND a rider coach, casey still very obviously has NOT forgiven ducati. the grudges he's airing by proxy in this interview!! spectacular. with all athletes but ESPECIALLY casey, it's always healthy practise to just keep in mind the actual context of their careers when reading their mouthing off about the current sport. because sometimes they will be fighting yesterday's battles... this is a man who still has enough bones to pick with motogp to disassemble the whole skeleton

I'll follow the order of the interview provided by the mowmag piece:

“I know the company,” says Stoner, referring to Ducati and answering a direct question about the possibility that in Borgo Panigale they might decide to ‘sabotage’ Martin’s eventual victory, “and I know what they are willing to do to win. I’m surprised I haven’t seen it before, or maybe it happened and Jorge was good at overcoming it ” In short, Stoner goes so far as to say that Ducati might have already put a spoke in Martin’s wheels, but that the young Spaniard was still able to be stronger than any obstacles created. With Ianieri pointing out to the Australian, however, how much Dall’Igna insisted that it will be real sport and there will be no games. “That’s what Gigi thinks. But then there’s Ducati and they don’t want to see the number one go. But everyone is watching them very carefully, if they make a mistake like that we’ll see it. If they create a problem it will backfire on them. I hope that everything goes smoothly and that we can see the real world champion.”

do you know what an absolute nightmare it would be if martin has a mechanical dnf in the catalunya ii sunday race. something which can of course HAPPEN, pecco's had more mechanical gremlins than jorge this year. but obviously that wouldn't stop anyone from losing their minds

this is just so extremely casey. I laughed when I read it. of course he's been thinking about how ducati will probably sabotage martin since jorge's exit to aprilia was announced. of course he thinks ducati would pull off something shady to keep the number one plate in house. I love the idea that ducati HAS been sabotaging jorge but they've just been like, extremely shit at it. look at him saying that he KNOWS ducati and thinks they SUCK... an opinion he is completely justified in holding - ducati did not do right by him in 2009, and those wounds also still show in some of his other responses in this interview. but, y'know. if ducati was going to sabotage jorge, quite frankly they would already have done so. it's just a little late for this, isn't it. what are they even going to DO, stick a pin in jorge's tyres?

readers familiar with casey's oeuvre should be drawing a fairly obvious parallel at this stage - given that this is not the first time casey has dabbled in a light dash of conspiracism where title deciders are concerned. here are the two versions of his book concerning what happened at valencia 2006:

will never get over how casey was fighting the good fight for valentino's tenth in 2013 icl. early adopter

back then, casey was blaming the 'commercial interests' of Big America for sabotaging the most popular rider in the history of the sport - until Big Dorna sniped him and forced him to remove the 'commercial interests' line in the paperback version. (to be clear: this is a joke, there's no indication anyone from dorna had a chat with him, it's just funny that his stance ever so slightly softened between versions but then he did also add the wonderful 'welcome to my world' line.) it's perfectly reasonable to believe that valentino had a dud tyre in 2006 valencia and broadly tracks with what he himself says about the race, somewhat less reasonable to believe They were actually out to get him. valentino was very unlucky throughout 2006, yes, but... people are unlucky sometimes

anyway, I don't actually want to relitigate 2006 here, but I DO love his paranoid streak and how like... y'know, there's always the danger he's mellowed in his time away from the sport, he's certainly less tightly strung these days... but yup, he's still got that in him. still that guy

from a longer post about the similarities between valentino/casey, reckon this is one of the things I've written about the pair of them that holds up the best:

it is completely unsurprising that jorge martin's plight has struck a chord with casey, who himself always had a chip on his shoulder and was more than happy to use said chip to motivate himself. both jorge and pecco have a fair bit of casey in their competitive dna, which does show in how casey talks about both of them - martin perhaps with a bit more of lorenzo's brashness mixed in versus pecco having more of valentino's cunning... plus his contrarianism (which casey is no stranger to either). if we're already drawing alien parallels. just always that slight sense that they feel SOMEONE is out to get them, that they're never being given a fair hearing... again. chip on the shoulder

then there's this bit -

Calling it a very powerful attack is almost an understatement, with Stoner not being light on Ducati even when he comments on the decision to entrust the official bike to Marc Marquez for next season. “They could have made sure that he would settle for an official bike in a private team” – he thundered.

- which we're going to circle back to. I do love how casey's switched from going to an italian newspaper to launch an extended attack on valentino rossi to going to an italian newspaper to launch an extended attack on ducati. critical levels of support

So how will it end in Barcelona? Casey Stoner doesn't give his prediction, but limits himself to an icy comment: "I think Jorge deserves the title, and that he is in the position to win it. Pecco will do everything to be champion and Ducati would like to keep the number one. Everything could go smoothly, or there could be great chaos "

given how dud tyres have been a big theme in both 2023 and 2024's title battle, 'slightly odd jorge crash helped along by slightly odd michelin tyre' just feels like. such a plausible scenario. that could easily make everyone lose their minds. honestly, even if jorge crashes on his own and just says his bike felt weird afterwards, whether it's true or not. it'd be chaos, yeah. and casey will be THERE no matter what

If from the point of view of the show everything is more exciting, from the point of view of the rider who has raced, won and suffered in the difficult world of MotoGP, in this 2024 we are also witnessing a great injustice. "For me the World Championship should be as always: on Sunday - adds Stoner, stating himself openly against the Sprint and against the new MotoGP format - If you make a mistake you have lost an opportunity, now you have two. And then it doesn't allow you to really work on the set-up, because the only concern is getting into Q2. The system doesn't work for me, you can see it from the abysmal gaps. It might be there every now and then, like in Formula 1, but every weekend is not necessary. We have seen what Pecco has done in the last three seasons, the growth is constant. Ducati's results are always better, but in comparison with the others he is the one who wins the most. You can't belittle him, they are real victories, not Sprints. What he has done this year is impressive".

this bit I do agree with casey on, not because of what it's doing to this specific title fight and more just my general distaste for sprints. at some point this last year it's become received wisdom that pecco's sunday success is partly reliant on being able to do some trial and error in saturday sprints, so I found it interesting that oxley took a different stance in his sepang column:

I'm not sure I ENTIRELY agree on this (obviously I'm just basing this on vibes not actual expertise). even though obviously all riders do get this sprint data boost, I feel like it's fairly plausible pecco + his team make better use of it - just because there's better data, doesn't mean everyone is taking equal good advantage of it. then again, is there really any evidence that pecco is getting more out of it, beyond doing better in a format he's better at? as casey points out, it does mean you have way less time to faff about with set-ups, which pecco does like to do. there's also intangibles that might make the sprint experience advantageous to pecco on a sunday - for instance, I feel like his banger starts this year (remember when those were a thing) have tended to come on a sunday when he's already kinda figured out where to place himself in the pack. so maybe he does get something substantial out of having an extra race

that being said, I'm increasingly of the opinion that thinking pecco is ACTUALLY helped by the sprints - that the championship picture would be no different without them - is... kind of overthinking things. he's not good at the format. any marginal gains on a sunday he's getting from the sprint data just instinctively feel like they're probably not equal or more to what he's losing out in raw number of points through the sprints. it does feel like pecco's gotten better at sprints specifically in the second half of this year, so it's interesting to see if that carries through to next season... and look, none of this is to say jorge won't be a deserving champion - at the end of the day, you have to win the format you're playing. but yeah, I do reckon pecco would likely be champion without them

I've been curious for a while about casey's thoughts on the sprint format - I thought he'd be against it because of his luddite vibes as much as anything else, though I do also reckon the format wouldn't have been bad for him specifically as a rider. (if nothing else, it would've helped him in 2008, given he was fighting for the title against a rider you feel like would be TERRIBLE terrible terrible at this format. less time for set-up experimentation, softer grippier tyres and shorter races weighted towards qualifying/starting well? yeah say goodbye to that eighth.) anyhow, his reasoning checks out - part tradition, part the feeling that it's too forgiving of mistakes, part fucking up the structure of the weekend, part giving too little weight to 'real' wins... all very casey. casey was the type of rider who was always more about focusing on wins than championships - that you shouldn't settle for results just because your 'rivals' were behind you, for instance, that fighting for race wins comes first and the title will follow. here's a paragraph from a sachsenring 2012 write-up (where casey crashed on the penultimate lap while fighting dani):

obviously in the context of that particular title fight, it didn't end up mattering anyway because of the injuries casey would go onto sustain. but... well, casey's errors in the first half of 2012 would have put him in a tough position anyway - as dani proved, even once honda got on top of his chattering issues, reeling off victory after victory would not be enough to take the championship when jorge could just keep riding home to safe p2's. (and when dani in a disadvantageous points position pushed too hard in the penultimate round and crashed, it was game over, stop if this reminds you of anything.) the point is that pecco this year has played the race-win-or-bust role in a way that is probably instinctively quite appealing to casey - doesn't sit easily to watch the guy on ten wins lose the title. there'll probably always be elements of the slander pecco receives that resonate with casey... pecco's words getting misinterpreted by press and fans, pecco being called boring, pecco being called too crash-prone, unstable, bad at handling pressure... the two of them are plenty similar as characters, which is reflected in the type of criticism that tends to head their way. and pecco's stubborn resilience, a determination to motivate himself as a spite response to the doubt from others - well, that again is probably going to remind casey of himself

moving on.

Impressive, but not enough to win, with Jorge Martin now 24 points ahead, just one weekend away from the big dream, before the painful farewell. Casey Stoner is not easy on the market and Ducati's choices either. "If Ducati loses the world champion it will be a hard blow," he explained. " But I think it will be even harder for Martin, who has spent these years being loyal to Ducati I don't think it's right how it went. Unfortunately, it's the way Ducati works and that's why they've lost so many riders now. Marquez? In many ways I understand the decision, but it doesn't mean it's correct. When you have riders who give their all and stand out among the 22 on the track and someone arrives to take their place, I don't think it's right. I think Marc could have had a factory bike in another team. It wasn't fair for Bastianini and even more so for Martin."

yup, casey all over. of all the aliens, casey had the least hype surrounding him in the lower classes. he's... well technically I suppose valentino started in a satellite team and won his first title with one, but it was very much a ''''''satellite team'''''' - casey was the only alien to start his motogp career in a satellite satellite. a proper one. he KNOWS what it's like to not be the first choice for ducati!! if melandri had gotten out of his gresini contract to ride for factory ducati in 2007 (lol), casey could've been in real trouble even finding a seat. and he's a big believer in loyalty! casey was beyond disillusioned by the shit ducati pulled in 2009 - when they planted stories in the press that casey's diet and exercise routine was responsible for his mystery illness, big names openly criticising him during his absence... as well as of course how they aggressively courted jorge and offered him a way bigger salary than they paid casey, after telling casey they didn't have more money to pay him

it's that last bit that feels uncomfortable, right - like casey, martin threw in his lot with ducati, off the back of quite a contentious split with ktm to even get the pramac seat. like casey, martin has now repeatedly been looked over - and like casey, his ultimate split with ducati is the result of ducati favouring the golden boy. (while lorenzo obviously didn't join ducati at that time, this was ultimately still one of the big reasons why casey walked away after 2010.) unrewarded loyalty... hey, I suppose him and valentino actually agree on this, yeah. ducati has spent so much time cultivating its young talent before showing themselves ready to ditch them all for the big name. and it IS how ducati works, they really AREN'T particularly loyal. all these years later and they're still just the same, as far as casey's concerned

Ducati, therefore, as the central theme of the entire interview, but also as the favorite target of a Stoner who on the one hand seems to make very clear analyses, but on the other also appears to be someone with a decidedly poisoned tooth, given that even when asked about his future in the Team Lenovo garage he lets many doubts shine through on the management that Borgo Panigale will be able to have of two champions like Bagnaia and Marquez. “It depends on how Ducati behaves - he concluded - I think that Pecco, mentally, is strong enough to face the situation, it will be a question of seeing who Ducati wants to protect the most. For sure, the two will try to create chaos in the team to make things go in one direction or the other. We will see how Ducati manages the situation and who they choose. They will have to be as balanced as possible or it will be a problem”.

(incidentally, I love the italian 'poisoned tooth' term for having a grudge, it's so evocative. lots of poisoned teeth in motogp)

casey's confidence that there's going to be pecco/marc drama... he's so real for this. I've been wavering in my own confidence a little bit, wondering whether pecco/marc might not end up massively disappointing me, but casey's coming through for me here. unsurprisingly casey's going to implicitly relate more to pecco in that particular dynamic... in general, it's nice how complimentary casey is of pecco, even while summoning locusts upon ducati. just on a personal note, I never particularly enjoy when retired athletes play into narratives about how much worse the current competitors are... it's mean-spirited, generates dumb discourse and also feels rather undignified. so, y'know. always pro-glazing the current lot

in terms of what casey says specifically... obviously there's the ten wins thing, which casey unlike much of the fanbase does understand isn't something a mid rider can pull off, and then there's the line about pecco being mentally strong enough to go up against marc. I've talked before about the similarities between pecco and casey before, which obviously is also relevant here... casey faced accusations of being unstable and unreliable and too sensitive throughout his career, starting well before his path crossed with valentino's. too crash prone, a choker, too easy to rattle. and then they come up against a rival with a reputation for mind games, who many seem to expect will be able to 'break' them. whatever pecco's on-track success will be next year, there's no real indication that casey's wrong here - for all that the pair of them are high strung and ever so slightly neurotic, both casey and pecco have repeatedly exhibited real resilience and self-belief. idk, again, it's fun how both the current title contenders do have quite a few casey-coded characteristics. love casey-coded characteristics

The reference is clearly to Honda, with the Australian explaining the Japanese's major crisis in this way. "It's hard to get an idea from the outside," he said, "but I think it was convenient to have the three European manufacturers at the top, with the Japanese slipping to the bottom. I don't think that in Japan they suddenly don't know how to build a winning bike anymore. The Europeans are very creative and make everything happen faster, but they're not as refined as the Japanese. And with such fluid rules, everything is easier for the former. With Albesiano, Honda will try to add creativity and speed up operations. It will be interesting."

pretty sure I've said this before, but one of casey's funniest traits is gesturing vaguely in the direction of a substantive accusation without quite spelling it out. does he think dorna is sabotaging japanese manufacturers? is the system rigged against them?? for WHOMST is it convenient, wHO are you accusing of what? I'm not even saying he's WRONG about all of these things, sometimes conspiracies are real, I wouldn't know either! I just think it's great how this is his go-to reaction. always looking for that shadowy influence secretly protecting the anointed and sabotaging the unfavoured. the bit about more fluid rules favouring the europeans is interesting and I'd like to hear more about that theory, but obviously that wouldn't necessarily mean this was the intended consequence of said rules. does feel like casey's implying that though! come on casey, tell me more

anyway. this has been my take on casey's newest contribution to the discourse. I can be accused of many things, but not of lacking casey stoner opinions. that's my little guy

[thenewcaptainunderpants]

second story dump! this covers the end of act 1 and also noticeably has WAAAAY less finished art. from here memories become a little more hazy and starts incorporating stuff I thought of more recently.

Heatwave was an intermediate chapter, a brief “break” with a more lighthearted, episodic story. this was a trend I wanted to establish for each arc where before things get serious, we have a more light adventure. Heatwave would’ve had the following subplots, all taking place on a particularly hot day of the year;

Kipper and Fink are met by Mr. Fyde, who’s having trouble controlling his avocado powers. Years ago, he figured how to go in and out of tree form, and travelled the world. Upon returning to Piqua, however, he made a shocking realization—the avocados he grows now ARENT avacados. they’re eggs. they’re mini fydes

Loogie meanwhile desperately tries to find Twice some kind of job/place to live as they can’t afford to have FIVE roommates. shenanigans ensue.

Bugg is just trying to find some shade, man. ANY shade at all, god help him

as you can imagine, all these goals would’ve been resolved somehow. i don’t remember fyde ever returning for a follow up story so his ending specifically im not sure but I REALLY wanted to emphasize the relationship between fink and kipper here. fink’s reaction to the wedgie magee incident was probably the most damaging to his ability to trust/socialize with other people in spite of being able to move on. kipper meanwhile ruminates on the incident a lot as well but is more regretful/remorseful than just upset. this contrast will be especially important when we get to

fink does not remember his friends. he doesn’t remember his past. hell, he doesn’t even remember his own full name. all he remembers is using Body’s Delights’ new “Wipes of Wisdom” to clean up the burrito that the ginger haired guy sprayed in his face. and he’s not alone. all over the place, people are losing their memories, and all of these people used the Wipes of Wisdom. they turn to the wipes as their only solution, only to see that they should turn their attention to Piqua’s biggest billboard at 1pm.

that billboard is when Body’s Delights’ ceo, Theodore Murdsley, goes public for the first time. that billboard is where he tells all the braindead wipers to follow his every command. That billboard is when he tells them all to FIND captain underpants and FINISH HIM.

of course, kipper sees this. and while fink does too, by this point he’s been exposed enough to other people to not be directly effected. but almost everybody else is, or is at risk.

kipper teams up with twice again, but following behind is janitor master Mr. Ree and the eccentric Sargent Boxers! with the help of George, Harold, and Melvin, and Kipper’s roommates to boot, the group try desperately to broadcast Murdsley’s secret deactivation protocol to snap everybody out.

All the while, their previous attempts to reverse the wipes’ effects on their OWN instead result in fink reverting to that of a 6th grade bully. through fink’s regression, kipper has to truly confront his fixation on that period and the effect it had on others, and hopefully bring fink back to normal.

the day is eventually saved, and Murdsley disappears in ruin, and summer begins to draw to a close. Fink and Kipper reconcile and the future, for a brief moment, looks bright…

(to be continued)

[thetwilightroadtonightfall]

I come here with some questions bc you must have them in your head hopefully

Overmorrow/Objects of Affection spoilers ahead

Give me the ceremony details, i need to know what kind of union they had, was it simple and with close people to them? What kind of altire they used? Time of day?

Maybe it is too much but I wanna see what they chose for that day and your vision of that moment ahejdjbsjsjsjw

In other points, what kind of expression do you see when Ephemer reads the part about Blaine in the book? He is going slowly through it and part of me wants to know how you would describe the moment.

Now, not spoilers stuff but doodle comentary of the doodle pages you shared. I saw the doodle before finishing reading, and I had the biggest wheeze with the Ephemer hopeless romantic take on the handkerchief bc of Charis expression it was gold but then I got sad bc of couse you gave Ephemer matching scars to player (ФωФ) i love theb detail tho

Color me surprises when I got to the end of Objects of Affection bc as I was reading through it realized the doodle was coming true in a way absndjejsjajbsjs

You know me too well, Romy 😄🩵 I do have some ideas about everything. Not all the details, but enough to talk about it! I’ll talk about it under the cut since this’ll probably end up being a bit long [apologies to everyone if the read more doesn’t work, it can be hit or miss on mobile]

Okay! Let’s get into this!!!

The ceremony takes place in the morning, at the eastern beach, the same place where Charis and Ephemer (technically) first met. And it’s the place that would’ve faced Daybreak Town directly. It’s an intimate event, consisting of just their family, close friends and some of their apprentices. Hestia officiates it, and they hold a reception(/ball maybe?) at the academy that’s more open to the general public.

I actually plan on drawing their wedding attire eventually! I don’t have them designed yet, but what I can tell you right now is that it’s not like irl wedding attire. And they’d both have their hair down, as part of Cablean tradition. Whenever I draw them, you’ll be the first to know! 😊

As for Brain…I do wonder if there’ll be anything written about him, since ML is called “the forgotten era”. But if Eph IS able to read about him…there’d be a lot of mixed feelings. He’d be overjoyed knowing that Brain arrives in Scala, in the very same place he’s built a home and a new life in. But it would also break his heart realizing that he won’t be around to see that day, because it’s too far in the future. He won’t see Brain again…but he finds comfort in knowing that he’ll at least be able to make preparations for him.

You know what’s funny about your doodle observation? I made that ch 11 doodle for fun. But then I actually sat down and started thinking about how an actual proposal would happen…and so OoA was born! 😄 The doodle literally did come true, sorta.

Thank you for your questions!! I appreciate it. And I’m glad you had fun reading OoA!

[just-a-carrot]

Obligatory every now and then "thank you for making the games that you do" ask 😌 it is so rare to see queer and mental health representation as honest and in-depth as your games. A big reason I spend a lot of my time making whacky little OW drawings is because it always just brightens my mood, being able to draw little guys who are like me in a way a lot of ways I just don't see expressed often. As someone who is Rather Disabled and Rather Queer, it's nice to just... have games where being those things is okay. Seeing nonbinary representation as honest and open as Gidget honestly made me tear up when I saw it. As someone who has Been Through That Stuff (in places that were-- and probably still are-- life-threatening to be seen as queer), I felt so seen by them and what they've been through. (I also forgot to mention but I did get the Gidget haircut eventually 😌 gender/10) ANYWAYS. Sorry if this ask got too Personal or anything I am a horrible judge of stuff like that 😅 but I did want to say thanks. (Also while I'm at it, thanks for answering the many asks I send about incredibly random topics related to the blorbos. I get very anxious about sending them so I don't half the time [nothing to do with anyone, I am just Anxiety: The Rabbit], but for the times I do, thank you for entertaining the asks even if they are utterly ridiculous most of the time haha. (And thanks for the help/feedback on dev-related stuff too, it's appreciated 😌 the comment left on TRJ still brightens my day whenever I think about it because I thought while making it that no one would enjoy it... but receiving that shortly after publishing it assuaged my fears by quite a bit so I'd just like to say thanks for that too. (...Whoops I think I have made a message Utterly Too Long but I hope it gets the points across??? Maybe??? Hopefully???)

weep this is incredibly sweet???? 😭💕

it literally brings me the utmost joy when people can see parts of themselves in my chars or relate to my char at all or feel seen, etc. also because a big part of this game is based on my own experiences and struggles so it helps ME feel seen when OTHERS also feel seen because then we can all relate together and maybe feel a little less alone in the experiences we've gone through in life

LKDJALFKDSFADF PLEASE DON'T EVER BE ANXIOUS ABOUT SENDING IN ASKS I LITERALLY LOVE RESPONDING TO THEM????? (tho i get it it would probably make me anxious too now matter how many times someone said that LOL) but fr i love going through my ask box and answering silly little questions. especially lately my anxiety's been cranked up to 11 so getting to distract myself with silliness is oftentimes a lovely godsend 💕

AND OFC 🥺 i always want to help in any way i can and also just spread love as much as i can. being a dev in general can feel so isolating, especially when we're neck-deep in deeply personal projects that take a lot out of us to work on (no matter how much we love them lakdfad). it helps knowing we've got others out there that can support us and have our backs and a little community of small devs that can relate to each others' issues and boost each other up

LDKJFALDFKA DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT thank you so much for this sweet message!! i got a bit teary-eyed reading it sob 😭💕

[bvannn]

Weekly Update November 15, 2024

I’m in a real bad spot again, everything I’ve been trying keeps going wrong, but i did get some art stuff done.

I tried writing some shorter songs on a whim with some 16 bit soundfonts and i think they came out pretty well. Add 3 more to the ‘songs i finished but can’t release yet’ pile. Also made some midis for two more vocal parts, one for a cover (FF), one for an original (LF), both of which have finished instrumentals. Started tuning FF, am going to try some of the new strategies i tested a few weeks ago. Another vocal original, BATB, that I’ve been on and off working on is probably done? I think? I finished mixing the vocal part, another one for the pile. Also fixed a random glitch that would sometimes happen where an instrument would randomly play a phantom note that didn’t exist in the midi part at the very start of a song, which was causing issue with three songs. Also re-edited Blow Off Steam, since the mixing was fucking awful idk what was wrong with me to think that would be passable. I’ll release it on YouTube once I have motivation to open my computer. I really need to just sit down and draw some cover art but every time i try everything in my life keeps going wrong I’m cursed i swear. It’s fine it’ll get done eventually, i started on one of them this week and so far it looks good. I thumbnailed some more that also look fine. I just need life to cut me a break so i can draw. I just want a break. One break.

I tried working on the comic this week too, got about half of page 12 inked. The comic looks great and is fun to read through and i love how it’s coming out but again every time I try to work on it bad things happen to me that get in the way. I want to give a deadline and say ‘oh, it’ll be done on (x date)’ but I can’t. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe today I’ll go look at tapas and see how things are over there, since I can’t really work on anything. I haven’t really thought about how I’d go about releasing the damn thing once it is finished other than ‘probably not webtoon, I’ve never heard anyone say anything positive about webtoon’.

I made storyboards/thumbnails for another animation project, smaller one for one of the smaller unreleased songs I’m sitting on. I looked into after effects again and it should be able to do some of the effects I thought I was going to need to learn blender for, which is great because I don’t want to mess with blender yet. There’s a certain character who I’ve only really drawn a couple times because I wanted her to have a really unique visual style, so once I have myself together I’d like to try drawing her and rendering her with the new tricks I learned in after effects, but again things need to get better first, and that’s unlikely.

Last bit of hope for progress next week would be the epithet erased TTRPG. I finished off the first tileset I had done and actually sat down to turn it into some maps, and it works really well. Ended up watching through the original anime campaign a bit further too, which inspired me to get some statblocks done and some character minis sketched. Also completely rewrote stage 6 for the second time but I think this time it’ll stick. A couple more NPC ideas have been floating around for that and I might post a mini once I have more. Again I’m hesitant to post anything visual for that, since my plan is currently to turn the campaign into a prewritten module for other people to run, release the module for free so everyone can play, and then release the optional maps and minis as a paid package, so I can make a bit from my work but also make the system more accessible to people for free. The fifth anniversary streams are this weekend, including one that is set to cover the updated system book, hopefully that should give me the motivation to get going, and then if that goes well that should give me motivation for my other projects. Everything I’m doing is intertwined with each other and with my mood, so if nothing else bad happens I should be getting better, but again there’s still a couple things that can go wrong and they certainly will because I’m not allowed to have anything.

Sorry again for how gloomy this post has been, everything seems to be going wrong but I’m going to keep trying. I might be slow again for a while but that’s fine, that’s why I loaded up my queue with old art. Thank you everyone for sticking through it, and I’m glad you guys have been enjoying the old art. I shuffled the queue so some of it isn’t as old as others, but even so a good number of you are seeing pieces for the first time. I really hope I’ll have something big to show soon!

[todd-machine]

@milekael tagged me so I thought I would hop onto this!!! TYSM FOR THE TAG MILES UAHAHAHA

are you named after anyone?

Not really! I mostly just picked some random things I vibe with tbh.

when was the last time you cried?

I can't actually remember :'D it couldn't have been awfully long ago tho, for some reason

do you have kids?

nope! I don't really plan on it.

do you use sarcasm a lot?

I think so, once in a while. If I do I normally tend to clarify tho, it does tend to pass over my own head a at times so if I notice it happening to others I'm usually quick to explain myself.

what sports do you play?

I've not been so active in recent years, but I used to love taking dance and swimming classes when I was younger tho! I've also dabbled in martial arts and ball games (football and basketball) over the years and I still really like a good walk or run.

what’s the first thing you notice about people?

Usually? Honestly the way people dress or their mannerisms like hand gestures and stuff, since I sometimes gravitate there to understand how people are speaking.

what’s your eye color?

Brown n green on both :3

scary movies or happy endings?

I'm usually not fond of jumpscare/shock horror and I'm more into the suspenseful or slow type really. Happy endings are sweet and very neat ways to end a plot but depending on the case they can sometimes leave me wanting more, idk.

any special talents?

Can measure out a perfect portion of rice by eye for some reason

where were you born?

That one I'd rather not say here. I have lived the majority of my time in England though 💀

what are your hobbies?

Aside from drawing I like... drawing XD but in all seriousness, I really like doing observational drawings from time to time, it helps clear the mind after spending so long animating for uni! I also love working on some short stories slowly, I collect stamps on the side and I've been really getting into cooking lately. I'd love to pick up traditional art to a more serious level once I have the time, too!

do you have any pets?

I don't :'D I'd love to once I can afford to and have the space to keep them though. Thinking mainly of cats honestly.

favorite subject in school?

Probably history! Art was fun too just wasn't so fond of the programme structure there. At least we had some great field trips for that though.

dream job?

Not really sure! I'm close to graduating from my animation undergrad though, hopefully, and I'm hoping to take that into short form stuff or TV within the industry eventually, probably as an animator. I'd love to be able to improve my skillset over time, though, especially in terms of technical and people skills, and maybe do some animation lead or directing at some point. At some stage later down the line I'd love to spend more time on my bigger personal project's production as well.

Augh tags- uuuhrbmrhrm idk @helio5 if u wanna do it go ahead, no pressure tho ofc!!! Anyone else who wants to pick this up as well feel free (sorry for not directly tagging many people, I simply get nervous easily XD)

[lotusprotocol]

dreamcatcher devlog: past 3 months (oops)

(screenshot from current wip level, out of orbit)

full devlog below the cut!

long time no see! really sorry for missing the past two months; i never ended up getting started and by then it was too late to post. i'll try my best not to let this happen again, though i can't make any promises.

anyways, there's been a lot in the past couple months! without further ado, here's everything(?) that's happened since the last devlog:

i started off in december by getting some of the core mechanics working, such as the camera, level transitions, etc. the visuals aren't completely done yet, but my main priority is getting the mechanics to actually work, and i'll make them look good later.

i did a lot of work on optimizing the performance and build size of my game, which i made a few posts about (big one about build size here)

i made another track for one of the levels, and i think i've been improving at music! here's the audio:

(i also tried making album art later in december but it didn't turn out good so i'll redo it at some point)

one of the most important things i did in december was get playtesters! i made applications open from the 15th to the 22nd, and chose 6 people who submitted. it was hard for me to leave people out though, but applications may be open again sometime in the future.

i set up a daily goals list to put 5 things on every day, and hopefully stay focused. admittedly, it's been a while since i used this list, and i lowkey forgot about it until i looked through my post history before making this devlog, but i think i'll get back into it this month.

i also set up a twitch channel! i'll be streaming over at https://www.twitch.tv/lotus_protocol if you want to check it out!

i was on break for the last week of december, so i was able to get a lot more done in that time. i also got a stylus, which is a really nice upgrade from drawing with my finger before, and did a lot of practice with it.

january didn't start off great, and i barely got anything done over the first couple weeks. i was eventually able to get back in the groove, but i had a sucky feeling during that time since this game's a big part of my life and my mood depends quite a bit on it (in a healthy way though, it's not out of control)

when i came back to working on the game, i polished some stuff up before pushing the first playtester build! i got some valuable advice, and it went pretty good.

i wrote down the outline for the entire story! there's still some wiggle room if i want to go back and change anything, but it's nice to have it down instead of only in my head, and i've wrote the dialogue for a few scenes already.

i've been improving my art a considerable amount over january and february! i've gotten a lot more confident in my art as well, which motivates me more to make it!

(pencil sketch from mid february; there's quite a few mistakes here and there but i still really like it)

i continued working on one of the levels, which was what i did for the rest of the month. not much i can say here, but it's been shaping up pretty good so far!

to be honest, february wasn't a good month for development. i had a lack of motivation and a lot of work to do for other things in my life, and there was barely anything new from last month.

the main thing i did in february was work on the tas tools for the game more, which are coming along nicely. i've been having an issue with consistency and don't know exactly what's causing it, but i'll figure it out eventually.

(unrelated to dreamcatcher but) during february, i took some time to make a side project i had been wanting to do for a long time: an upgraded level editor for red ball, a flash game that i enjoy. there's still plenty of work to do on it, but so far it's pretty nice, and it's not my main focus right now.

(screenshot of the tool, you can find it here it you're interested)

i've also been delaying the next playtester build for a long time, and it was originally supposed to come out at the start of last month; if there's any playtesters reading this, sorry again! i'll hopefully have it done this month.

i finished off february by making some more music! here's a wip from a few days ago:

and that's it for the past 3 months! with all that being said, here's what i plan on doing next month:

get the current wip level done, and hopefully do another full one

finish all story scenes for the demo

push at least two new playtester builds

do some story art if i have time

enjoy the process :]

that's all for this devlog, and if you made it this far, thanks for reading! right now, i'm trying to get the demo out by august this year, so expect to see something done by then. also feel free to join the discord server, where you can get more regular updates, ask me questions, or chat with the community! anyways, signing off now, have a great day!

[iamthekaijuking]

I've always wondered that it would be really cool to have a spinosaurid brute wyvern, i even made my own spinosaur brute!

The Violent Polar Wyvern; Shatina ( iim not good at naming)

Shatina is a spinosaurid theropod that lives in cold environments like the Snowy Mountains or Polar sea (for old world specimens old world) and in the Hoarfrost Reach (for new world specimens),this spinosarurid is slightly taller than a deviljho and it is much longer, this spinosaurid is a very strange and odd one, unlike the short legged spinosarurids it evolved stronger and more robust legs very well adapted on land despite being semi aquatic like a spinosaurus, it has very tough scales, it also has the ability to swim underwater and also through ice similar to the pseudosuchian glacial agnaktor ,unlike the more hump like sails of spinosaurus its sail is more like a fin of a fish and they are extremely durable, it posseses enoumous plating on the sides of its body, its arms have evolved to an extreme level much longer than a spino but also more robust capable of picking up objects and other animals and even go as far as to evolve pronated wrists for better flexibilty when using its hands, very weird is that it posseses thumbs even with claws, something other spinosaurs dont have, its unclear why it has thumbs but its maybe due to genetic mutation from its ancestors and having thumbs proved to be useful as they can also use tools like rocks, and also useful for grabbing onto prey better, it is an intelligent wyvern capable of quick solving problem skills detecting its opponents strength and weaknesses, there have been reports of shatinas even developping fighting strategies against hunters depending on the weapon the hunter uses against them and even avoids all traps from hunters, shatina posseses binocular vision almost like a T rex as its eyes are facing forward so it would be able to tell the distance between its prey on land and underwater, it also posseses strong beaked jaws having a strong bite crush tough armored prey and frozen carcases and its also perfect for catching underwater prey, its body is very flexible like a leviathan and it would even occasionally slide on the ice like a leviathan as charging attack if its too far away from the hunter, it has another trick up its sleeve ice element, Shatina can release a large freezing smoke and liquid from its mouth that well freezes stuff instantly, it also uses dragon element when enraged and will infuse it with its ice attacks and sometimes even just pure dragon based attacks like having the ability to peform claw slams of dragon energy a dragon tail whip and a huge beam of dragon element, it also has the best control over dragon element, its unclear how they evolved dragon element or how its ancestors evolved it, this wyvern is an apex predator of any cold environments with no competition, it hunts large aquatic and land animals like pokaradons or velkhanas, it is a high tier elder dragon level monster as it is quite absurdly powerful for a brute wyvern, this monster is quite interesting as said by the guild still full of mysteries ot its ecology but hopefully we can get more studies on this incredible wyvern.

and thats Shatina my very own Spinosaurus brute wyvern!

i would love to hear your thoughts on the design abilities and others and how would you design your own spino brute wyvern ^w^!

(also to awnser your complain about my flying wyvern paravian ancestor about the fingers and feathers i intentionally gave it five fingers, its ancestors had a genetic mutation though out evolution that gave them 2 more fingers with claws, this may sound really nonsensical but it was the best i can think of, and about the feathers on the arms i kind of forgot to draw them kind of fluffy i just drew them around where the wing membranes are connected so theres that)

To get the parave hand thing out of the way first. The way I got around it was to give them wrist styliforms like Yi qi, and eventually the styliforms evolved joints and duplicated. (The left sketch also shows where feathers attach. Sorry for the rough sketches I made at work. If you want better digital examples I can probably sketch some.

As for Shatina, I think it’s really cool! Not having a hump sail is actually more in line with sailed spinosaurs, and most spinosaurs didn’t have stubby legs so that lines up with most spinosaurs too. I like the beak and plates, which monhun does give a lot of monsters so it definitely fits in, and colors.

The thumb thing isn’t too unusual. Theropods already had semi-opposable thumbs, and truly opposable thumbs aren’t hard to evolve (bambiraptor has opposable thumbs and third fingers for instance!) and megaraptors evolved to pronate their wrists to so that isn’t too far fetched.

My only gripe is more just a personal preference nitpick than anything, in that I generally don’t like making overpowered elder level monsters unless they feel a bit more natural like Bazel. (I know magnamalo and Deviljho are two of my favorite monsters but for the former it’s more of an ironic love and the latter it’s more for the new-world design, bias for tyrannosaurs, and because it was the first invader monster)

Generally when I make fan monsters I make endemic life or monsters that just exist but aren’t hunted. But if I had to make a spinosaurus monster I’d probably make an Anjanath tier brute Wyvern with a pressure washer beam and pelican jaw flexibility that’s fought on land and water. Maybe it’s hunted because it’s kinda a bully that steals the fish of a nearby village.