#i should probably explain the fic

[qoldenskies]

i think its so funny when people take the way donnie acts at face value even though its a horrible lie because he's a horrible liar, while understanding leo is bullshitting very well despite him actually being GOOD at bullshitting. many such cases

[hailsatanacab]

“To whom,” Alfred rasps, pausing to clear his throat and establish his sense of decorum, “May I ask, to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

The creature stops, blinks its owlish eyes at him, and lets out a bark of laughter.

“Forgive me,” it says, still chuckling lightly, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck. Alfred is suddenly struck by the feeling that this creature is not as timeless, nor as old or as wizened, as it wished to present itself. “I am making a terrible first impression. My name is Phantom, current High King of the Infinite Realms.”

Contractual Obligations by me!!!

I couldn't get the image of Ghost King Danny out of my head, so here he is!! Acrylic on canvas, and I'm so happy with it - he came out a lot better than I thought he would 😅

[umblrspectrum]

still thinking about it so heres a bunch of stuff

[quibbs126]

Something that’s been bothering me, in Cyberverse Season 1 we hear about the Decepticon cause being made because Megatron wanted to fight against and change the corruption on Cybertron

But like, we never actually saw any of that in the flashbacks. Best you can say is Starscream having a high opinion of himself due to being a jet (or at least that’s what I think was going on? It was something about Starscream and being a jet), but you can also assume Starscream’s just being an ass, not that this is a systemic issue on Cybertron. Outside of that, everyone seems to have been doing fine, they got along and everyone was vibing and having fun, going to Cube games and chilling at Maccadam’s, going out to do some racing on a vacation to Velocitron

I do suppose we were limited to only seeing things that Bee witnessed himself, but he was there for other important events before war was declared, we could have seen some more evidence that things were bad on Cybertron before the war and why Megatron and Optimus were so intent on changing things

As it is, it feels more like telling and not showing, and I don’t really understand why the Decepticon cause was needed in the first place. Well I mean I do, but that’s because I know the story in other continuities, not because Cyberverse told me

And if I can pivot slightly, I feel like this is an issue in other shows as well. Earthspark barely went into the backstory of the war at all, only making vague allusions like the “lower-class” remark and Orion Pax getting the Matrix (which honestly I don’t remember why he got at all and if it was related to the war). And yes, Earthspark was about moving forward after the war, but also the show wanted to portray Decepticons in a more neutral light, allowing them their second chances to do better after the war. Not to mention Megatron switching sides due to realizing how far he’d strayed from his original cause. I don’t feel like telling the Terrans the original causes of the war would be out of question, it makes all the sense. Also if we’re trying to portray the Decepticons as not being pure evil, explaining the horrible conditions that drove them to starting it would do wonders. Megatron is here, he can tell the Terrans with all the correct info if the Autobots can’t

Prime also has this problem, but I’m willing to give it a lot more leeway because it was part of the Aligned continuity, which was made up of more than just this one show, and Transformers Exodus I’m told went into this backstory a lot more. So okay, it’s explained somewhere. Though personally, I wish we went into this backstory a bit more in the actual show, because all I know from it was that Megatron was a gladiator fighting for change, Orion Pax met him and agreed, then they proposed their ideas for change to the Senate and it caused them to split. I don’t actually know why they were fighting for change. Again, I know Exodus did and it was around at the same time as the show, but we don’t all have access to Exodus. And honestly it might be the reason the other shows don’t go into it much either, despite it being the only one with an excuse

Like I think this annoys me because it feels like the shows expect you to know the general backstory so we don’t have to go into it. But you’re supposed to tell us this, especially when this isn’t like Batman or Superman’s origins where everyone knows the backstory of the war

I know what the backstory is, but not because these shows told me. It’s because Emperor Kumquat told me in a YouTube video where he was explaining the Aligned backstory from Exodus, while making the point that people who only watched Prime wouldn’t know all of this. How was I supposed to know this information if I hadn’t?

And to go back to Cyberverse, I can make excuses for Prime and Earthspark; both were set long after the war started and Prime especially didn’t have much reason to go into it outside of what it did. But not only did Cyberverse have the means to show us corrupt pre-war Cybertron vis Bumblebee’s flashbacks in Season 1, it had at least a little leaning to making the Decepticons more sympathetic. They are still for the most part antagonistic, but it did make the point that Optimus originally agreed with Megatron, we had bots on both sides getting along during peace talks and Windblade being angry at Slipstream’s killer, had most of the main threats not be Megatron’s forces that had the two sides forced to team up, and by the latter half of Season 3, had Megatron be more heroic, with him saving the day from the Quintessons and wielding his own Matrix of Leadership, and working to stop the other him that he knows is coming to reclaim his Matrix. They aren’t at Earthspark Season 1’s level, but they weren’t making the Decepticons pure evil either. So I feel like we should really see what it is they were fighting for originally

[b4kuch1n]

making of a feathered thing

[pizzaqueen]

Another scene from the widower!Steve verse (which I’m calling That Same Old Feeling and I’ll be tagging anything for it tsofverse if anyone is interested in seeing more scenes/snippets); this takes place during the second time Eddie and Steve meet after not seeing each other for about 20 years, c. 2012

Just under 700 words, rated T, vaguely vaguely suggestive because it leads up to their first time together again but cuts off before the action (sorry lol but it’s me! Haha)

It’s surreal, sitting here in Eddie’s apartment, not ten minutes from his own house. Feeling Eddie’s gaze on him, so familiar even after all these years. Shit. It’s been so long.

Steve turns, catches Eddie’s grin, returns it. That’s surreal, too. The last time they met, there weren’t so many smiles. Well, the last time before last night. It all feels like a dream.

Eddie’s grin turns fond, head resting in his hand, elbow resting on the back of the black leather couch. He reaches out and pokes Steve’s knee.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Eddie’s nose screws up. “But it’s… funny.”

“What is?”

“Just… It feels like a lifetime—no, a thousand lifetimes—since I saw you but…” Eddie looks to the side, back to Steve. He lifts a shoulder and adds, “Like no time has passed, as well.”

“Yeah, I know.” So much has happened to Steve since the last time he saw Eddie, and, in some ways, he feels like a completely different person. When he thought of Eddie, over the years, the distance between them felt so fucking huge. But the moment he saw Eddie, last night, it was like he’d only seen him yesterday. “I feel the way I always did with you.”

“Me too.”

Steve bites his lip against a smile and looks Eddie over—his dark hair is still long but it’s threaded with silver, there are deeper crinkles at his eyes, and his arms are totally covered with tattoos now. He still takes Steve’s breath away, still makes his heart beat. Should he feel this way again so soon? He’s not sure he cares. “And you’re still beautiful.”

Eddie lets out a nervous laugh, dipping his head in an oddly shy gesture. He tilts his head further to the side until he’s looking at Steve sideways. “And you’re still one smooth bastard, aren’t you?”

Steve winks and catches Eddie’s chin between his forefinger and thumb. Eddie dips his head, making Steve’s thumb slip up to his lips so he can kiss it. It’s such a small gesture, but it makes Steve’s heart leap and sends sparks skittering up his skin. He shifts his hand, cupping Eddie’s face, and leans in to kiss him softly.

When they part, Eddie has this look on his face that makes Steve’s chest squeeze tight and he can’t… So he kisses Eddie again and again, until all he’s thinking about is being as close to Eddie as possible.

Eddie lets Steve crowd him into the corner of the couch and they make out like a couple of kids until Steve pulls back and says, “You didn’t give me a tour of your apartment yet.”

“Mm?” Eddie blinks, then slowly grins. “No, I didn’t.”

“Maybe you could give me one now.” Steve kisses Eddie’s jaw, down to his neck. “Starting with the bedroom?”

Eddie laughs and pushes Steve away, getting up from the couch. “Right this way, sir,” he says, with a sweep of his hand.

Stumbling to his feet, Steve grabs Eddie’s wrist and tugs, saying, “You’re still a total dork,” and then, “Wait, which way?”

Eddie shakes his head and drags Steve to his bedroom. The pretense of a tour is lost the moment they make it through the door as they kiss and shed their clothes and giggle and Steve hasn’t felt like this in longer than he can remember.

When Eddie’s knees hit the back of the bed and he goes down, he pulls Steve with him; all the memories of this—Eddie under Steve, his thighs around him—flood Steve, almost overwhelming him. And now they get to make more memories.

With that thought, Steve kisses Eddie with everything he has, with a passion he sometimes worried he’d lost and, when they part, Eddie looks as dazed as Steve feels. “Damn.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie reaches up, pushing Steve’s hair out of his face, letting his hand linger along his cheek, his jaw.

“You good?”

Steve nods, nuzzles into Eddie’s palm. “Yeah.” He swallows. “You?”

“Yeah.” Eddie lets his hand drop to Steve’s neck. “Fuck, I missed you,” he says, voice tight with emotion.

“Yeah,” Steve says, “I missed you too,” and, when he kisses Eddie again, the years between them fall away.

[arbitrarycategories]

what if I indulged my inner twelve year old and wrote crossover fanfiction

[koka-mi]

guess who's writing kyosaya fanfiction at 1am even though they have a dentist appointment hella early in the morning??? NOT ME! (it's me)

[abysskeeper]

Chapters: 1/8 (Wyll)

Part: 1/3

Summary: "They say a singular flap of a butterfly's wings can cause an ensuing storm on the other side of the world."

Nox'ani Skuldavi is not good with people. She is, however, good with magic. She is also smart enough to recognize her preferred status as a "living elf" (emphasis on both living and elf) is, at least in part, predicated on this small group of individuals she and her sister have found themselves with. Unfortunately, these individuals are rife with as much of their own, personal strife as they are stricken with the parasite. Even more unfortunately, Nox is finding she actually wants to help them however she can.

It's not much, she's not good with people. But she is good at magic, she's good at listening, and she really likes butterflies. It's hopefully enough to get the point across.

(AKA: Extra scenes from Act 1 companion quests; also AKA a BG3 friendship fic.)

***************************

The first butterfly to enter camp was Wyll’s.

It flew in on a rather heavy evening, carried by the winds at the forefront of an approaching storm. The air itself was weighted with the promise of a long, hard rain that was primed to burst from the sky at a moment’s notice, though that hardly stopped the flight of the endeavoring, little creature. Having already moved his belongings under the protection of his tent, the man the butterfly sought sat at the makeshift cloth entrance of his camp home, a goblet of wine in one hand and an old adventure novel in the other.

Wyll had thought this weather would be perfect for him to dive back into his reread—his fourth time through—of one of his favorite novels. He had just been reaching the climactic battle of the story when other matters forced him to set it aside, and he’d had little time or desire to pick it back up since. Even now, he could admit to a bit of forcefulness behind his actions, though he considered his reticence to be caused by the change in his situation rather than a lack of desire. Reading was a touch different now than it was from when he last held the book in his hands.

For one, newly acquired horns rested heavily on his head, and unused to the new weight as they were, the muscles in his neck protested under the strain by the end of every day. Attempting to find a comfortable position to read in was quite a hassle, and even when he finally found one…it did nothing to relieve the weight that rested in his chest. When he decided to take up the book again earlier in the evening, he believed the fantasy and escapism residing within the pages of one of his favorite stories to be exactly what he needed. The words used to fill him with such joy and admiration, such hope and aspirations of how he wished for his future to be.

But…there was some hesitance. A fear that was becoming realized the longer he attempted to push through the book’s pages. The words that used to rouse his heart were now only breeding a deep sense of disappointment and a dash of humiliation low in his gut. It had only been a day and a half since Karlach joined their traveling party. It had only been a day since Mizora punished him for acting against her orders.

It had only been a day since he became this. Whatever this was.

Wyll snapped the book shut and rested his head on the tentpole he leaned against. Perhaps, instead of the escapism and fantasy, what he really needed was sleep. He discovered last night that was a much more difficult task with his new appendages as well—they hardly allowed him to lay down comfortably, never-mind that he could not clear his head of the images he saw during his soul’s descent through the Hells—and he was starting to feel exhaustion’s pull on his bones. Based on how the sky was clouding over, the storm would be starting soon anyways. It was probably for the best he packed it in for the night, he could always try again tomorrow.

He heaved a sigh, but before he could move to stand, something fluttering in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Confused, he turned to watch as a butterfly, of all things, landed on the book cover in his lap. He blinked at it, waiting for some trick on his vision to clear. The butterfly’s wings fluttered a few times before it settled on the cover and decidedly did not disappear. Now utterly bewildered, Wyll gently pulled the book a little closer to his face to inspect the insect.

He had never seen a butterfly in only one shade before, and never one that was such a pure, dark-green color. It was strikingly beautiful in its simplicity but also odd, both in color and in its behavior. It was neither the season nor the weather for such a creature to be out right now, and it was far too calm with him being so close to it. Also, probably the most striking aspect that truly set it apart from anything he had ever seen before, a glowing aura around the tiny creature lit up the darkness of the night and the storm befalling their camp.

“Interesting…” Wyll mumbled. Out of curiosity, he held a finger towards the butterfly. In turn, it crawled up his finger and came to rest on the back of his hand.

He watched it calmly flap its wings a few times again before he heaved another sigh and looking towards camp, determined to find who sent him the magical bug. It wasn’t hard to narrow down the suspects; aside from himself, the only ones to use illusion magic in camp were the wizards and Shadowheart. He caught sight of the cleric knelt in front of her tent deep in prayer and immediately doubted it was her. And Gale was nowhere to be found, likely already settled into his tent for the night.

That just left the other wizard, and his eyes landed on her across the camp. The elven woman sat next to her sister—the paladin also deep in evening prayer—with her quill in hand. Her violet eyes, however, rested on him instead of the open journal in front of her. He noticed a subtle flick of her wrist, almost as if she were writing in the air, and the butterfly fluttered again. Wyll cocked his head in question at her and her shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. Her gaze flickered down to her journal for a moment before she set her quill down in the open spine and rose to her feet. She stretched out her back and then made her way over to him.

Wyll’s gaze shifted from her to the butterfly on his hand and then back to Nox when she stopped in front of him. Both of them stared at each other in silence for a moment, her waiting for him to say something and him uncertain where to begin with the odd gift. He finally held out his hand towards her, the butterfly curling around to sit in his palm.

“I believe you lost something, Nox,” he said lightly.

A small smile graced her lips as she shook her head. “I rather believe it found exactly where it needed to be,” she answered and motioned towards the ground beside him.

He nodded and scooted over to offer more space as the elf sat down beside him, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on top of them. She fell silent again, chewing on her lip in thought. He waited for her for as long as he could in hopes she would give him a better answer. His hand twisted and turned while he waited, the magical butterfly crawling around and around.

Finally, his curiosity won out. “I don’t quite understand how I am where this little guy needs to be.”

“You’re struggling, Wyll,” Nox answered, matter of fact. As if his question warranted anything close to that answer.

He was unable to hide his wince, feeling his heart sink and the playful façade melting away. Was it really so obvious even she noticed? Or was he being foolish? Was it to be expected? “You certainly aren’t one to mince words, are you, Nox’ani?” Wyll asked with a chuckle he hardly felt.

“Sorry,” she grimaced. “I am…not nearly as eloquent or heartfelt as most,” she sighed and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, “but I wanted to offer you something, so…”

“So, you sent me a butterfly?” he asked, tone belying his confusion. Was he, perhaps, missing the context of some, elvish custom?

Nox shrugged, a slow rise and fall of her shoulders. “More than words, illusion magic is what I’m used to…well…using as a way to comfort others,” she answered. “Besides, it’s a far better icebreaker than words for me, if I didn’t just exemplify that.”

Despite himself, Wyll let out another, small chuckle. This one he did feel. “My prior question already had an answer then, you are rather to the point,” he agreed.

“Talking isn’t exactly a strong suit of mine, if that hasn’t been made obvious either,” Nox said with a thin smile.

It was obvious from their very first meeting that her sister handled most of the communication with people. Lux had that sort of personality; Nox was far better at handling the logistics and magical matters before them. “Not everyone is gifted with a silver tongue,” he shrugged and glanced around the camp. “Given the personalities in this little group, having someone who knows when not to speak is actually a boon, I think.”

Her smile smoothed a little. “Well, I am glad at least one person understands it. Not many appreciate the gift of listening.”

“It is a relief, honestly,” Wyll said. “And if nothing else, it is more than Lae’zel can say for herself. She is far brusquer with her words than you.”

Nox snorted, “I suppose I should count it as a win that, blunders aside, I at least have better manners than a gith.”

They both fell quiet again, wordlessly watching the magical butterfly crawl up and around his forearm. As the silence stretched on, Wyll began to wonder if she was waiting for him to speak on her original comment and he felt a bit of panicked bile rise in his throat. What could he say to it that hadn’t already been said? Where could he begin that wouldn’t cause a deluge of emotions he hadn’t started sorting for himself yet? Luckily, she continued before he felt obligated to ask.

“I do mean it though, the listening,” she clarified. “If you wish to speak on what troubles you, that is. Between my lack of words and these large things,” she chuckled as she tugged on her ear, “I am quite adept at listening.”

Wyll smiled at her joke but otherwise remained quiet. His attention remained on the butterfly as he cupped his hands and it crawled into the center of his palms. It sat there, nestled by his hands, and he felt the light brushing of its wings when they twitched in time with Nox’s soft sigh.

“Of course, you also don’t have to if you’d prefer not to. I would understand,” she added. “Over the years, I’ve learned that sometimes all people want is something pretty to look at. A distraction from what troubles them, or even just a reminder someone else is thinking of them. That’s really why I fall to illusion magic,” she explained. “I…never really know when I should step in, or how, even when I know I want to offer something. I’m good at magic, better at it than words, so…I offer what I can.”

Wyll didn’t think he wanted to speak on it; everything he believed mattered on the subject had already been said. He did not regret it. He was happy to have been stopped before he made an awful mistake, and he was happy to have found a new friend in Karlach. He could not speak much of his pact with Mizora, and everyone had respected that. Now that his latest orders had been cleared up and his punishment doled out, it was time to move on to solving the issue of the parasites.

Yet, the longer he stared at the butterfly and mulled over her words, the more he could feel it all churning in his heart. The disappointment, the embarrassment, the grief, and the anger. He blew out a breath and closed his eyes, his fingers curling gently around the butterfly, almost protective. “It’s…heavy.”

Heavy. That had been the one word on his mind since last night.

Nox hummed in understanding, and he felt her eyes roving over his face. “As the right choice often is,” she agreed after a moment.

“I…know.” He sighed again and opened his eyes. The butterfly still rested calmly in his palms. “That knowledge does not make it any lighter this time, though,” he admitted and turned to meet her stare.

She pondered him for a moment. “Do you regret it?”

“No.” He shook his head quickly, though his gaze slid away from her scrutiny. He did not regret it, he would never regret doing the right thing. That still did not necessarily negate his…dissatisfaction. “But that does not mean I have to be pleased with the result, does it?”

“Of course not,” Nox said readily. “No one would imply otherwise.”

He felt her shift beside him, and a quiet breath of frustration escaping her forced his attention back towards her. Bemused, he watched as her hand suddenly retreated from the space around his arm and she frowned. Instead, the butterfly’s wings brushed against his fingertips.

“Wyll, you sacrificed a lot for a stranger, based on the words of other, effective strangers,” she continued. “It was the right choice in the end, obviously, but there are not many men in this world who would do that. Fewer still who would do it when they knew the consequences of disobedience…and you knew the consequences, didn’t you?”

“I…” Wyll hesitated, swallowing hard as he was yet again forced to acknowledge all of the changes he had just undergone. “I…suspected several options. All things considered, this was one of the better outcomes.”

“I’m sorry,” Nox mumbled.

“For what?” he asked, incredulous. He thought he would be annoyed by pity; he had no desire to be pitied for choices he willingly made. But pity was not what she spoke with, and sympathy was not what he expected in its stead. “As you said, I knew the consequences. I have always known the consequences.”

Nox made her gentle humming noise again. “Knowing the consequences and accepting the burden regardless is a noble venture,” she answered. “I respect it, but I also sympathize with it.”

Wyll stared at her for a few moments before an astonished laugh pushed past his lips. “You know, most would not assume that of a warlock pacted to a devil.”

“Most warlocks pacted to devils are not you.” She smiled and flicked a finger. The butterfly responded by escaping from his hands and fluttering up in front of his eyes. “Actions speak louder than any words or deals ever could, and while I’ve only known you for a short while, I would like to believe I’ve been around long enough to be able to say with certainty that your actions mark you as a good man, Wyll,” Nox said and caught his eye. “A noble one, even.”

Despite his best effort, he couldn’t hold her gaze or stare at her illusion any longer. She spoke words that he needed to hear, words that he himself had been repeating consistently since last night. Those words were starting to taste like ash, however. The longer he tried to tell himself exactly those words, the more it felt like he was trying to convince himself of a lie instead of reminding himself of the truth. Hearing them aloud, spoken to him by an effective stranger he needed to trust and rely on was…complicated. Simultaneously, paradoxically hopeful and discouraging.

Beside him, Nox huffed out a breath. Wyll felt the butterfly ascend and stiffened when it settled on his left horn. It was one of the first touches he had felt on his newest body part, and definitely the first not from himself or their surroundings. It was still odd, to receive sensations from a part of him that was so new. Odder still was feeling something so gentle on a part of himself he considered quite ghastly. The legs of the butterfly almost tickled.

“I know you cannot speak on it,” Nox continued softly, “but I’d also like to think I have been around long enough to confidently believe your pact with Mizora came because you saw no other option for whatever situation it was you found yourself in.”

That was what he liked to believe as well, and yet he had his doubts. “Believing to have no other option than a devil is a failure in even the best of men,” he mumbled. After a long moment, he blew out a breath and turned his face towards the sky. The wind had picked up and the clouds were moving in faster now. “I can recognize that, even if I do not regret it.”

Nox clicked her tongue, and out of the corner of his eye, he watched her attention turn towards the sky as well. “Desperation is a great motivator…and an even greater undoing. I refuse to judge someone based on their most desperate moments; I will judge them for what they do after, though.”

For the first time since they had met, Wyll was reminded he was talking to a nearly two-hundred-year-old elven wizard. It was such a simple piece of wisdom, and yet one that could only be uttered so honestly due to time and personal experience.

“And based on what you have done after your pact, I am confident in saying that it is a heart of pure gold that beats there in that chest of yours…oh!”

The excited gasp caused him to look back at her in question. She was grinning, eyes shining as if she just solved the answer to a particularly difficult puzzle. She drew her finger through the air, and he waited for the butterfly to move off of his horn. It never did.

After several, quiet moments, he sighed. Perhaps whatever it was she just discovered had nothing to do with him at all. Though, given how she was staring at him and smiling, he had his doubts. He also doubted she would answer him even if he asked—he barely knew her, but the way she was looking at him all but screamed she was wanting him to ask, just so she could tell him to ‘wait and see.’

“Well, I am glad to hear you say that—” Wyll’s small smile dropped as he felt the butterfly move towards the tip of his horn. “—Even if I can’t help but wonder if the outside is now a better reflection of what lies within.”

“Oh, it will take some time to get used to, I have no doubt about that. But—” Nox was cut off as a flash of lightning shot across the horizon, followed by a distant rumble of thunder. “—But the outside most assuredly is not a reflection of what lies within at all,” she finished with a shake of her head.

It was his turn to study her: smiling face, bright eyes, utterly relaxed. She was not lying to him just to assuage his concerns and she was quite confident in what she was saying. “You seem quite certain of that,” Wyll muttered.

“And there will be many more who are quite certain of it as well, many more who know you better than I—” He had thought the same once. The people of the Gate. Florrick. His father. “—And there will be many more still who see it because they see what you do, for them and for others. You help people, Wyll, and you’re always striving to do what is right. You would do well to listen to those people’s words and no one else’s,” Nox said. “It will help you in one day being able to say them for yourself again.”

There was another rumble of thunder, closer this time. Nox was unbothered, still looking up at him instead with a sympathetic smile; a hopeful smile that proved she did still believe in what she was speaking and a knowing look that belied her age and experience. It was the first thing to truly make him feel better since last night.

Wyll returned her smile and nodded. “I would like to believe you are right. Thank you, Nox.”

“Rest assured, I am right. Besides,” Nox shrugged as she rose to her feet, “if I am to understand the trends these days, the…ah… ‘bad boy’ appearance is all the rage these days,” she smirked. “Many will outright enjoy the horns, I’m sure. And…all the better for them that something truly sweet lies underneath.”

Caught off guard, Wyll sputtered out a laugh and shook his head. Of all the things he expected someone like her to comment on—especially given the rest of their conversation—that certainly was not on the list. He wouldn’t deny it lightened his heart immediately, though. “On that note, I think it is time to say good night. I do not believe I am ready to receive your dating advice just yet,” he teased.

Both of them glanced towards the top of the tent as a few, small pitter-patters fell against the cloth. “And I do not want to keep you in the storm,” he added as he smiled back at her.

“Another night, then,” Nox chuckled. She turned on her heel and gave him a wave before bidding him good night. “I hope you sleep well tonight, Wyll.”

Wyll hummed in agreement and watched as she lightly jogged back to her tent in the drizzle. He watched her until she disappeared between the flaps before he grabbed the book again and entered his own tent. Genuinely feeling a touch lighter after their conversation, he set the book down at the end of his bedroll and set to straightening it out for the night. The butterfly—which he had incorrectly assumed disappeared when Nox did—floated down from his horn and onto his pillow. He sighed with a smile, moving to delicately nudge the thing out of the way, when a new addition caught his eye.

The butterfly was no longer solid green. Golden filigree spread throughout the four wings in gentle, swirling designs. His eyes traced over the looping gold patterns until they finally made sense of what he was seeing designed on the wings. There, surrounding the body of the glowing insect, the patterns on all four wings came together to form a heart in the center of the butterfly.

Wyll shook his head and let out a chuckle of disbelief. After a moment, he held out a finger to the butterfly and, once it crawled on, moved it to rest on the book laying at his feet. “You certainly are to the point, aren’t you, Nox’ani?” he asked softly while settling in.

Before drifting off, he glanced down at the butterfly resting on the book at his feet, wings fluttering lightly and softly casting the inside of his tent aglow. She most certainly was to the point.

Perhaps he really would try reading again tomorrow.

[yridk]

Uh happy new year ig, this is what I was doing while waiting for ot to turn 12 bc after that I could go inside

[lunarrosette]

My mutual @writertyozzie123 asked for me to expand so now I will

Nark still wouldn’t work in a non forgotten realms world! This isn’t like some sort of dramatic doomed gays that they are to me in canon they’re mostly just not compatible. This is also taking from the angle of just how all the kids were in ep 1 so the way to the soccer game pre-any development that happens in the podcast and not assuming they’d follow similar arcs in just everyday life. So we’re using Nick Close characterization ONLY! But obvs still including characterization from the podcast bc that’s what we get so like this is what I believe they’d be like in a no forgotten realms world, so if u disagree fair enough!

Basically it boils down to me that lark in confrontational and nick is avoidant. Lark shown to take most issues head on unless he is certain he would fail and even then he doesn’t typically run away from or avoid them but instead uses whatever he has to give himself leverage. He’s smart and a little cunning and an instigator and a little shit! Nick has issues with avoidance especially emotionally. He typically distracts himself to avoid his issues or makes “white” lies to “fix” whatever issue he’s in. (Like the battle axe and wanting to ditch the other dads [which is why there quotations over white bc what not an insignificant lie]) And Nick is a people pleaser but he’s a cool people pleaser ya know bc he’s trying to make his dad think he’s cool. Basically, Lark would be a chaotic little shit and would probably annoy Nick but (in this hypothetical where they are dating so Nick is being a people pleaser to Lark) he would act like it’s nothing and never talk abt this issue, unless it came to a head. And when Lark catches Nick in a lie he will directly confront Nick who would likely avoid this or lie in a way that would “make lark happy” but lark would probably keep prodding at this issue until Nick snaps. Like two magnets pushing away! Basically they have major communication issues!! To me it’s like two people who are fine but both have shit they need to work on but they are just not compatible for each other

However Nicholas Foster and Lark!? They could work a little better? Most bc of the nature of the origin of Nicholas’s people pleasing he doesn’t care much abt social coolness but coolness to his dad which would lend itself more likely for a break away (like a teenage rebellious phase) from this and lark being this weird smart chaotic kid Nicholas has known for years (and who was a dickhead) and is a kid Nicholas knows and could be someone that could be a “bad influence” and maybe someday an actual friend. Basically they’re a little more likely to be compatible bc Nicholas does feel as much of a social pressure in school as nick so it would be easier for Nicholas to break out of people pleasing as unlike nick he’d be less scared of losing like all of his friends bc he’s no longer cool bc he was never cool

[torao-chan]

saw some really cool koby art and really wanted to do a shiro piece inspired by it (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

ended up doing a shiro and a dax because apparently i'm incapable of NOT thinking of dax at the moment (┬┬﹏┬┬)7

so have a brotherly pair!

also hi sorry i've been only posting queued posts for a lil bit i have been taking an Offline Period to Recover and also Do Some Art aslkdjlskjdgfk

[coco0milkshake]

Gonna be spreading my ‘Rusty befriends and takes care of Nine’ propaganda because I REFUSE to believe they leave him alone in the Grim

[hey-heigo]

writing this damn trial like. how many times in one arc can i write a shocking development being revealed and surprising everyone. at this point is anyone really surprised anymore. do they still have that energy

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

i need to write more he/him 13