(trying to be less) inactive

underused art blog of @enbyboiwonder｜full of Dragon Quest, sports animanga, and whatever other interests I pick up along the way｜this artist will never use AI or knowingly support it or those who do

[transterry]

Pinned post time!

I’m enbyboiwonder or EBW, pen name Danny Bartosz, a hobbyist traditional artist and fic-writer in their twenties, as well as a collector of rarepairs and a lover of headcanoning my faves as trans/nonbinary/genderqueer. And letting guys wear skirts and dresses. I gotta learn to draw bodies again…

In years past, I’ve been known on this site as: wishing-on-the-moon, melsbancroft, actualkunikida, enbyspacemonkey, gaymalcolmreid, and enbyreid. (Possibly others that I’m forgetting; I used to change URLs somewhat often, though since I remade, I haven’t at all. And even if I end up picking a new chosen name again, my pen name will stay the same. This is my brand now.)

I’ll read/watch pretty much any genre of animanga, but my favorite is sports, and though I love a good sports shounen as much as the next guy, I particularly love sports dramas—like, to absolutely no one’s surprise, 2.43 Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get back into BSD, but I’ll likely still be drawing and writing Kunikida every now and then, interspersed with the other random fandoms my 2.43 hyperfixation will sometimes let me create for, because I will never stop loving him.

[ficwip]

this week's word is... 

✨ RAIN ✨ 

and is a re-run from our very first word game back in 2020!

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How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[transterry]

After much sifting through of words that contained the letters “rain” without being a form of the word, I finally found this one! It’s from the prosification (I don’t wanna call it a novelization since there’s zero way it’ll reach novel length even if I do manage to finish it) of my NWN module The Wizard’s Tower (also still a WIP). I haven’t exactly worked on either of them in a while, but.

The tall stone tower looms through a gap in the canopy.  Adrian shields his eyes against the rain dripping from the leaves as he peers up at it: sloping walls and conical roof grey as the clouds behind it, ivy, brown and withered, winding upward along the joins between the dull stone bricks.

[ficwip]

this week's word is... 

✨ movement ✨ 

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How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[transterry]

This is from a reguri one that I’ve been working on recently, where I project my inability to wear anything on my left wrist because sensory issues onto Red (I know he has no trouble, but shhh). I’ve just been calling it “watch and bracelet” for the time being, and I am determined not to let that stick as a title

Red freezes in surprise for a moment before tipping his head forward to let the object slide off the bill of his cap and into his cupped hands: a bracelet made of knotted thread nearly the same shade of red as his cap, with a clear bead on one end and a loop on the other to serve as a closure.  He looks up at Green wide-eyed. "Figured you could start small, use a bracelet to get used to having something around your left wrist before moving your watch." 「Thank you,」 Red tells him, his movements a little awkward with the bracelet held between two of his fingers.

[ficwip]

this week's word is... 

✨ KIND ✨ 

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How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[transterry]

This is from an as-yet-unnamed (preslash) 6Terry fic based off an idea I had a while back where Milly decides that Terry needs a name for “Terry” to be short for that she can call him when she’s mad at him and goes with Terrance. He hates it and calls her Mireille (which “Milly” is actually short for, and which she hates just as much as he does “Terrance”) in retaliation, but also he’s happy, because, well, he did know that she sees him as a guy, but he likes having this proof of it.

"Have I mentioned you're kind of a weirdo?" Botts says.  "That's not a bad thing," he goes on, holding up his hands when Terry glares at him.  "In fact, it's kind of cute."

[transterry]

I’m apparently still drawing in the graph notebook I use for notes and sketches for builds, but at least I managed to grab a non-gel-ink pen to sketch with this time, so! Here is a better (?) drawing of Saya. Changed her bangs a bit, but I’m still not sure how to draw her twin tails. Also I realised while drawing this that Babs’ bunny suit is actually only slightly different from DQIX’s, design-wise. I wish you could acquire that one. I honestly don’t care that much for the normal bunny suit in this game; I like the vest.

I personally feel like it looks weird colouring her skin with pencil when everything else is pen, but she is a bit too dark-complexioned to leave it when everything else is coloured/shaded, so. Y’all get both versions.

[transterry]

I’ve forgotten how to draw, and using pen certainly didn’t help, but here’s my builder Saya (サーヤ). I gave her different hair ribbons since I wanted something between the default ones and the red bow. And since I didn’t want to try drawing no bangs, she’s ended up looking like Miku…

[ficwip]

this week's word is...

✨ MEMORY ✨

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How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[transterry]

This is from an as-yet-untitled Camus/Astarion fic, an AU that was born from a combination of those “We ran in different circles” and “I would have ended up just like Sebastian had we met before” lines, as well as Astarion telling that one woman that her beau is a vampire and it’s for the best he didn’t show. I still don’t know how old I see Camus as being tbh, but usually he’s not old enough to have lived through all three BG games (I think he would’ve been ~7 during the first two in this AU?)

Also I just like the idea of Tav figuring out early that Astarion’s a vampire, or at least, like, y’know, not being surprised. I have several fics started surrounding the vampire reveal specifically because I’m disappointed there’s no option for the PC to be completely chill/nonchalant about it. He’s not subtle!

He turns again as Camus draws even with him, and now, able to see his face clearly, he finds himself stopping short and his thoughts tumbling to a halt in his head while his breath does the same in his throat.  He doesn't hear what the man or Shadowheart say after that, their words washing over him unnoticed. It would be a lie if he said he remembers what the man looked like.  It was one evening, a hundred years ago, and though he's inherited his mother's lifespan, without the ability to enter Reverie, he doesn't nearly have her elven memory.  What he remembers is silver curls; an almost ethereal beauty that surpassed any he had seen—man or woman, elf or otherwise—in his fifteen short years of life; red eyes that glowed faintly when shadows fell upon them.  Even then, he had known that those eyes meant he was a vampire.  He hadn't cared. There is no way that this is the same man, not able to stand in the sun as he is.  But there is no shaking this visceral certainty that he is, that he knows him.

[ficwip]

this week's word is...

✨ SMILE ✨

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How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[transterry]

Another one from The Wizard’s Tower. I’ve been working on it pretty consistently, though my progress has been anything but lol. It’s at ~6k now! And that’s without having gone and added more than a small bit of the dialogue from the module yet.

A small, answering smile flickers across Xander's expression.  "And I'm grateful for that, but I still don't think we should go carelessly messing with Elnimster's… displays.  I doubt he had those crates blocking off this room for no reason."

[ficwip]

this week's word is...

✨ EYES ✨

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How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[transterry]

This is actually the most recent paragraph I’ve written. It’s from the “novelization” of my NWN1 module The Wizard’s Tower (also a WIP). Adrian, in the role of the PC, is a preexisting D&D OC, while Xander, the companion, I created specifically for the module (though he’s heavily influenced by another of my D&D OCs, Camus).

Adrian cuts his gaze away, back to where the skeleton sorcerer had stood, suddenly discomfited at the praise, at the earnest expression in Xander's pale green eyes. It's not as though his intentions were as noble as all that.  He just…  "I just felt sorry for them, honestly," he says.  "Just standing there, with no purpose…  Potentially for eternity."

[ficwip]

this week's word is...

✨ WORRY ✨

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How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[transterry]

From “on still waters the sky laid its head,” an Adrian/Mantides fic I began for Nevervember, which is an AU of the last act of MoW wherein Orbakh decides that Adrian would be too big an asset to kill and so makes him a spawn despite Adrian’s refusal of his offer. Mantides won’t kill him, and they both have to live with that.

"Don't worry."  Adrian's voice cuts into his thoughts, and Mantides drags his gaze up from the pair of stakes in his hands.  "If they decide to go after you first, I'll stake you before you've even risen, assuming they don't get to me too before I've had the chance.  I know how much you Lathanderites hate the undead." Mantides swallows thickly.  "Right," he manages. With a nod, Adrian turns on his heel to head toward the door opposite the one they came in, turning his stake over in his hand with a certain sort of hunger.  "Now, let's find where those two keep their coffins.  I don't know about you, but I am not keen on giving them the chance to come after us again." As he follows after him, Mantides prays to no one in particular that he will only have to use the one stake.

[ficwip]

this week's word is...

✨ FALL ✨

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How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[transterry]

From my as-yet-untitled HotU fic involving the Hall of Mirrors which I started for Nevervember. Adrian in this is the Hero of Neverwinter rather than Drogan’s Apprentice, so he’s already pretty close with Daelan.

He casts a quick look about the room for signs of lurking enemies before jogging over to Daelan's side, removing the Rod of Resurrection from where he has it strapped to his pack and falling to his knees beside him.

[ficwip]

this week's word is...

✨ PAIN ✨

How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[transterry]

This is from the Zarad fight in Sea of Stars, my AU where I plopped Aoki into BGDA2 in Ysuran’s place

A brown blur streaks toward him, and Misao stumbles back from the sudden explosion of pain and warmth that blooms across the lower half of his face.  Blinking tears from his eyes, he daubs gingerly at his—no doubt broken—nose as he turns unsteadily to find Zarad now standing on the opposite side of the room.  The wizard’s bowed shoulders heave with his laboured breathing, his retrieved staff dangling loosely from the fingers of his left hand, the crazed fire burning in his eyes made all the madder by Misao’s blood smudged across his forehead and his own now dripping freely from his right hand hanging uselessly at his side, his sleeve plastered against his skin by a large, dark stain stretching from his elbow to his wrist. Was this how he himself looked, before, when it came to humans?  A hatred that consumed everything, leaving no room for reason, only the so-called “truth” that he himself had written upon the world before him.  He can see, now, why Zarad felt he had no choice but to kill him.  And now it is he who has no choice.  For Zarad’s earlier words were true: this time, only one of them will leave this observatory alive.  Zarad will have it no other way. “I should have chased you down and made sure of your death myself when you fled, Misao Aoki.”  The wizard’s voice is but a whisper, but Misao can hear it as clearly as if the man were standing at his side.  “Rest assured, I am not a man who makes the same mistake twice!”

[ficwip]

this week's word is...

✨ reward ✨

How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[transterry]

This is from rogue stone, my MoW fic which involves the scene after you’ve collapsed on the docks

A shadow detaches itself from one of the nearby buildings, and Adrian has one of his blades halfway out of its sheath on instinct before he realises it's one of the Ebon Claws' wererats.  He forces himself to stand at ease as the creature approaches. "I have a message from Mistress Altama," the wererat informs him in an undertone.  "She bids you to come visit her at the usual spot to receive your reward.  The Night Masks have all been defeated, and the statue is now ours!" The worry that creases Mantides' brow morphs further and further into anger as their liaison speaks.  "We can see that for ourselves, vermin," he spits.  "Now tell of the part where your brethren abandoned us on the field of battle."  Huh, so it isn't about the statue?  Adrian noticed him tense as he watched Lathanderites disembark from the ship—he and Rinara hadn't exactly mentioned that part when they told him of the job, given to them when they swung by Altama's shop after raiding Leira's hidden temple with that treasure-hunter, Garrett—and while he hadn't acted rashly and earned himself one of Rinara's knives slipped between the plates of his armour, Adrian still figured he'd hold a grudge over it.  Full of surprises, this one.

[ficwip]

this week's word is...

BUY

How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

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Due to AI slop having infiltrated stock sites, I'm stopping immediately with images for the word game. They take me a lot of time every week, and I'm furious that I didn't see the note on today's image. Canva, you were really decent once. Thanks to the friend who caught it. The word game will be text only from now on.

[transterry]

It seems I don’t use this word very often in my fics (though it only just occurs to me I might have searched for “bought” as well). Most of the hits were in notes or planning, or dialogue lifted from the source material. As this is. Ah, well. A not-insignificant portion of the rest of this snippet is my own writing.

This is from my as-yet-untitled fic where Astarion frees the painter, inspired by my first playthrough where I was controlling Astarion during this section as the game had bugged out and decided, until I next restarted it, Camus wasn’t allowed to interact with objects with an inventory. I was trying to make choices somewhere between what Camus and Astarion would choose, and it turns out that if I picked the dialogue options I thought Astarion would, Oskar wouldn’t mention missing the sun, and thus I had to change/combine some lines in this and Astarion left him to his plight in my Astarion Origin run lol

“You’re the ‘pet artist,’ I take it?” he asks as he approaches. The man’s shoulders jump in surprise, and he turns almost reluctantly, but his eyes light with recognition when they land on Astarion.  Recognition, and—hope?  Oh, lovely. Gaze flicking about the cave, the artist leans in secretively and says, hushed and urgent, “Zarys may have welcomed you, but I can see you’re not one of her thugs.  You need to buy me.” Astarion feels one eyebrow creep up his forehead as he eyes the wretch up and down.  “Why are you selling yourself?” “Selling mys—!”  The artist sucks in a sharp breath, lips pinching as he wrests his emotions back under control after that outburst.  Or his volume, at least: when next he speaks, it’s in an undertone once more, though no less emotional.  “I am not some Lower City coinlad offering you a tumble.  I am an artist,” he proclaims, drawing himself up to his full, unimpressive height.  He’s hardly even taller than Astarion, himself.  “And my patron will reward you for my rescue—tenfold whatever ransom you pay, I guarantee it.” He actually pities him a little.  Even with every remain of his dignity gathered about himself, he’s still a pathetic sight.  Unlucky, too, that it wasn’t Camus and his silly, bleeding heart who stopped to talk to him—but, alas, he’s hardly vain enough to be enticed by the trader’s offer.  An affront to his draconic heritage, honestly.

[ficwip]

this week's word is...

How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[transterry]

This is from an as-yet untitled fic for ShadowGuard, a NWN (formerly premium) module. I played it a few weeks back and got really into it—and then it suddenly ended! I hadn’t realised it had never been finished. So I started writing fic, although nothing that continues the module yet, because what the hell is plot. Nope, it’s just queering some bits of it. It’s easy to imagine Adrian being attracted to Markius. Although I have no idea how old he is (much less how old the child of Okaris is intended to be), so who knows if it’ll be requited.

I started this one specifically because 1) “unsheathing his massive blade” and 2) no he would not the fuck sheathe his greatsword at his hip?? How bad does your spacial reasoning even have to be to not be able to tell that a 6+ft blade could not be strapped to the hip of a ~6ft person without being incredibly inconvenient, wtf

He kneels down beside Xanthar and wipes each of his blades clean of blood on the cloth of the assassin's garb before returning them to their sheaths at his hips and then getting to work searching the body.  But, of course, he comes up empty—Xanthar wasn't stupid enough to keep his orders or anything else that could identify his employer on him.  He pries the assassin's short sword out of his fingers next and examines it closely, turning it over in his hands and sighting down each of its straight, sharp edges.  No enchantments as far as his meagre skills can determine, and the make is no better than that of either of his own blades.  Perhaps worse—Forgehammer truly does do fine work.  With a small sigh, he lets the sword clatter disappointedly to the flagstones beside its owner's body and pushes once more to his feet. He finds Markius watching him from a few paces away, his eyes still gleaming just as intensely as they did during the battle and his greatsword held at rest against his shoulder, ready to be put to use at less than a moment's notice should any more trouble arise.  Now seems as good a time as any to allow his breath to be taken away by the man. "It is good to see you, Adrian Llir, son of Okaris Llir," Markius greets.  "I pray that you have not suffered any great injury at the hands of these fiendish assassins." His heart is still pounding from the adrenaline thrumming through his veins, and perhaps that makes him bold enough to let a bit of flirtatiousness bleed into his voice as he responds, "I'm all right… thanks to you," though if the older man notices it at all, he doesn't show it.

[ficwip]

this week's word is...

How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

(Yes, "finally" counts!)

[transterry]

This is from (only believe in god) when you come undone, the first fic I ever started writing for Adrian in an attempt to try and develop him some before I started playing him. Dunno if it’ll ever get finished, and I also don’t know if he’s quite the same character anymore, but eh

Shandra has been rescued, Zeeaire and her underlings slain, the githyanki threat, at least, neutralised, the silver shards secured and the one which has apparently been inside his fucking chest since he was a baby still safely in place, and Casavir has been sticking by his side more doggedly than his own bloody shadow. So Zeeaire nearly killed him twice—first with her psionically tugging on the shard lodged inside his heart, then immediately upon them finally destroying her interplanar bubble that prevented anything on the Prime Material from touching her.  He already healed him up. His chest hardly aches anymore. There is absolutely no reason for Casavir to be hovering as he is.  Adrian would be more annoyed if he weren't so sure he was this close to doing something stupid if he isn't careful.

[ficwip]

this week's word is...

How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[transterry]

From bloodstone, a MoW fic that deals with Mantides’ bout against Dorn in the arena, and afterward (mostly afterward).

“You won’t like what I think,” he warns. “Tell me anyway.” “‘He was a good lad,’” he quotes sardonically, affecting Dorn’s drawl, “and yet he apprenticed himself to the Night Masks.  ‘A little off the rails, but that’s only normal in a lad barely in his seventeenth winter.’  It sounds like he was fully aware of his son’s shitty behaviour and was making excuses for him the whole time.  I mean, did you run off at sixteen to join a cult or cutthroat crime organisation or anything else of that ilk?” “I was completing my training to become a paladin of Lathander.” “Okay, bad example.  But even I wasn’t doing shit like that, and you know my morals are looser than many.  That isn’t normal teenage idiocy.  Were Jaek a few years older and a fully fledged Night Mask, Dorn would just have found some other excuse to justify him being ‘a good lad.’  Was he beyond redemption?  I don’t know.  Maybe he would have been another Rinara—or maybe he would have been another Viglor, who relished in torture just as much as Rinara did not.  You’re just going to have to accept that there’s no way to know either way, and that his present allegiances meant his death was just as deservèd as that of any other Night Mask.”