#But I'm very excited for the next chapter

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 2, Moving noises?

Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Author's note: Haha, take this! 2 chapters in one day! Also, every time I write another chapter to this story I have to update the warnings and it isn't even that spicy yet.

Mature content under the cut.

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'Are you alright? You look tired.' Tara sounds awfully concerned and you can imagine why. The bags under your eyes might as well be down to your knees by now. Turns out your new neighbor is nocturnal. You couldn't care less about the moving noises, but the fact that they only happen past ten pm is killing you. 

'No kidding,' you sass at her. Quickly, you smack your hands in front of your face. Sure, you're known to have an attitude but never to Tara. She's too sweet. 'I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.' 

Tara frowns: 'Is it that new neighbor of yours? Kieran told me he has a tendency to stay up late.' 

'That's an understatement. He's nocturnal.' Tara lets out an annoyed groan in solidarity, but it just sounds cute coming from her. 'It's fine. I'm sure he's almost done. I mean, how much stuff can you fit into one of those units? You've seen mine, the one next door isn't much bigger.' 

'Must be a big change, considering you and Zayne were so close.' 

'We still are,' you tell her, 'we just see each other a little less now. I do miss him a lot.' She nods but her eyes have a little twinkle in them and you know where this is going. 'No, stop that. Zayne and I are just friends.' 

'Never even... you know,' she questions with a cheeky smile and a wiggle of her brow. 

'No, never,' you laugh, 'as I said, just friends. I don't know, he just feels like a brother. I mean, I've teased him before as a joke and nothing “physical” happened on his end. So I don't think he likes me either.' 

'He goes through an awful lot of effort to be “just friends,” just saying.' 

'Yeah, yeah, sure. You have a very filthy mind for the way you look.' 

'It's been said,' she responds with a gleaming smile. You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, looking her up and down. 

'About that.' Her body tenses up every so slightly. 'Your boyfriend is not what I expected at all. I mean, I've seen him pick you up before and he looks quite tough, but he seemed just as awkward as you are.' Tara's eyes flicker around the room a while, seemingly not wanting to explain anything to you, until her phone lights up. She quickly checks the notification and gasps with excitement. 

'Hold that thought, so Kieran just told me they're doing drinks to celebrate Sylus’ move. That means they must be done,' she states in a chipper tone. You raise an eyebrow at the strange change of topic. There's a freaky side to that woman, you're sure of it. 

'So?' 

'So, I'm dropping Kieran off so he can have some drinks but maybe we can have a girls' night,' she suggests. Considering Red Crow isn't posting anything today for once, your evening is completely open. Could be fun to have a quiet night in with Tara. 

'Sure, sounds fun. What are you thinking? Movie, face masks, board game?' 

'All of the above,' she squeals in excitement, 'I'll bring some snacks.' 

'Great, just let me know when you and Kieran are driving over.' 

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To be a good neighbor, you decided to get this Sylus guy a little something as a housewarming gift. Considering they'll be drinking; a bottle of whiskey can never go wrong. Lucky for you, you were gifted a bottle of whiskey a few weeks ago but you know that one is not quite your style. The Writer's Tears single pot still. It's a very nice whiskey and you've had different whiskeys from Writer's Tears before, but you're just not the biggest whiskey drinker. It's expensive too, so it might give a good impression. 

Tara just texted you she's on her way, which means you've got about fifteen minutes before she gets here. You considered waiting for her and Kieran to hand over the gift so it could be in the spirit of "oh, just dropping my friend's boyfriend off" but that’s just weird. Feels like you're a parent dropping your kid off at school and you're not about that. 

So now you're here, in front of the oh-so familiar door that you used to have a key to. Part of you is really curious how the place looks now, another part of you wants to keep the memory of how it used to be in a time capsule. Either way, you've got a present for your neighbor and this interaction could be done within a minute if you do it right. 

You press the doorbell and hear something fall followed by a string of curses. The door opens fast and the person on the other side, who you think is probably Sylus, towers over you. You look up at him with wide eyes and recognize him right away. That man right there is the reason for most of your pleasure and orgasms. Red Crow. 

'What,' he barks. Rude , and not at all what you would've expected. Still, it takes you a second to take all of him in. He’s even taller than you imagined, eyes even more piercing, face even sharper. It's like a fucking God leaning over you and staring down like you're no more than a puny peasant. 

And a switch flicks in your head. 

'Fix your tone,' you huff, 'I'm your neighbor. I thought I'd bring you a housewarming present.' His eyes widen ever so slightly. How you managed to muster up such a bratty tone in the face of who's talked you over the edge more times than you can count is a mystery to you, but it feels kind of nice to see him stunned like this. You hold out the box the whiskey is packaged in towards him. 

His shoulders relax and he does actually fix his face. His features soften a little and his eyes no longer stare at you like you're an intruder. Your heart starts racing, as if your body just now realizes who is in front of you. You beg to the Gods above that your cheeks don't get bright red. A cold shiver goes down your spine when he takes the box from you with a flicker of an amused smile, the box suddenly seeming much smaller in his hands. 'Thank you, that's nice.' 

'No worries. Tara told me you're having a party, so I thought that wouldn't hurt,' you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. He studies your face for a second, searching for the answers to a question he doesn't ask you. 

'You know Tara?' You nod. 

'She's my coworker.' Shit, your voice isn't as steady as it was at the start anymore. You've got this man on a fucking pedestal and he's here, in reach. It's a weird feeling. Your panties are soaked but you're highly put off by the way he greeted you. Still... there are very little appropriate thoughts going on in your head right now. If this was your last day on earth, you'd have this man bend you like a pretzel right here right now in the hallway. 

He nods, amused like a cat playing with its prey. 'Is that right?’ 

'Yes. Whelp, nice meeting you. I'm gonna go back to my place,' you ramble awkwardly and quickly turn to slip back into your own apartment, accidentally slamming the door. How the hell are you going to face Tara now? Your body is going into overdrive. You bet you could cum just hearing your vibrator turn on. However, you can't risk it. Tara has told you Kieran drives like a maniac and always drives if he's sober, which is now. She could be in front of your door any second. 

"Just breathe," you tell yourself, "it's just a man." Yeah, just a man, a man that could fuck you like there's no tomorrow. Shit, your thoughts aren't your friends right now. A cold shower ought to work. Hopefully. 

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The bottle of whiskey from his neighbor was put on display on his bar cart. He knows the kind and that type of whiskey isn't for parties. Not even small parties like this. He figures it might be a regift or something. No sane person would give a total stranger an expensive whiskey like this. Never mind a stranger who has been a disturbance from the start. 

Then again, they're not really strangers. He saw the look in her eyes. He's seen it before and hasn't been wrong about it yet. It's that "I've seen you naked" look. To be fair, Sylus would've preferred to stay anonymous in this building for a little longer but considering his neighbor is friends with Tara, she probably won't tell anyone what he does. That is, if she knows what her boyfriend Kieran does since he wears a mask in his content. 

But there was more in her eyes. More than just scandal or embarrassment. There was lust. A lot of it. So much so that Sylus feared he might've caused his pants to tent if she would've bit her lip. Best for both of them that she left when she did. 

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally, he's not one to obsess like this but there was just something about her. Something about how she looked at him, about the way she commanded him to fix his tone. It's been a long damn time since a woman showed that kind of dominance to him and, shit, it turns him on like crazy. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can rub one out real quick. He sits down on his bed and looks down at the bulge in his pants. He truly hopes he didn't look like that before. He hadn't seen her look at it. Besides, would that be so bad? It looked like she wanted him to take her right then and there, and he would have if she asked. Or demanded, he isn't picky. 

A devious thought pops up in his head. He promised his followers he'd record himself getting off if they begged and beg they did. Maybe he could tease her with this as well if she really does watch him. If it wasn't just a look of attraction and intimidation, but recognition. 

He whips out his phone, puts it on his dresser across from the bed pointed at his crotch and upper body with his thighs still visible. His face is just out of frame, not on purpose but he doesn't mind his followers not seeing how flustered one small interaction got him. Not that they'd ever know why, but she would. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed once more to check if everything's in frame when he hears it. The shower. Her shower. So, her bathroom and his are next to each other, which means their bedrooms are probably also next to each other.  

“Good to know,” he thinks to himself, and that's when he hears it. The softest, most muffled of moans coming through the air extractor fan followed by a string of whimpers. Those must be connected to each other. He feels his dick twitch against his pants like it's being chocked, his ears feel like they're burning while a wicked grin plays on his lips. 

And then he presses record. 

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[bob-artist]

Into the Smoke comes back with the chapter 2 cover in TWO DAYS and I'm so excited!!!

I've been quiet on tumblr this past month for a couple reasons! First, I had gallbladder surgery in December, and since it was the only vacation I was going to get, I decided to go all out and be off social media during recovery. I think I needed it!

For those of you who didn't hear the story, it all started in November of 2023 when I tried to save money during inflation by replacing a lot of meat in my diet with tofu. Turns out that's a BAD IDEA if you have a not-yet-diagnosed soy allergy AND not-yet-diagnosed gallstones! Because when you eat something that makes your entire body swell up and your gallbladder is already full of junk, you get gallbladder attacks and gallbladder attacks and more gallbladder attacks, and then your gallbladder gets a ton of scar tissue and everything inside you gets inflamed and you stop being able to digest lots and lots of things. (Well, your mileage may vary, but that's what happened to me.)

Anyway, after $2K in diagnostic work and $7K in actual surgery costs, I'm very very sad and panicked to have had to spend that, but also VERY HAPPY because I went from being able to eat almost nothing to being able to eat *everything* I was eating before the Big Tofu Disaster.

Anyway, I kept meaning to post again on tumblr with an update, but dozens of new bot followers just kept pouring in every day and it was a big deterrent. I wish tumblr would do something about that. :( But in the meantime, I hope there are at least some real humans still here and waiting for ITS chapter 2! After working sick for over a year, I'll be working extremely hard to make up for lost time and get this next chapter out. So I hope y'all enjoy it!

Also, I've had my ask box closed because of the aforementioned bots, but I'm going to tentatively reopen it in case anyone has any actual human questions about me or Into the Smoke! (Cross your fingers that I don't have to close it again super soon...)

And again, we're back THIS WEDNESDAY!!! Keep an eye out!!

And if you want to give chapter 1 a reread, you can do that at intothesmokecomic.com!

[aptbelle]

FOREST BOY

pairing: earthfairy!jun x female!reader

summary: y/n was a lonely little girl. she had no friends, just her imagination and the forest behind her home to get her through the day. the forest is where she’d run to to escape reality and day dream. one day, after running from her bullies, she meets a strange, yet charming boy, wen junhui. junhui shows her what lies deeper in the forest, and she is amazed. every single day, she goes to the forest just to see junhui, and they spend hours together. one thing y/n had noticed about junhui was that she never saw him outside of the forest, nor did he have any interest in leaving. they spend every day together until y/n has to go away for college. the news breaks junhui’s heart, and he goes away, which hurt y/n in return. four years later, y/n lands a job in her hometown, allowing her to come back home. she is excited to see junhui again, but he is nowhere to be seen, no matter how far in the forest she travels. however, she meets another boy, who is very similar to junhui, or so y/n thinks.

warnings: this story only includes jun and minghao! they are characters in this and not related to the ones irl. lower case intended! this story may have possible angst!

author’s note: this is a story i had started on wattpad a couple years ago, but i never published it. so i decided to continue it on here! i hope you enjoy! i am a student, so i will update as much as i can while juggling school.

next chapter: chapter 1

CHAPTER 0: PROLOGUE

THE branches on the ground crunched as 9 year old y/n ran farther away from the neighborhood. she could hear a group of girl's following her, which made her just want to go farther. she knew most of the forest like the back of her hand, but never really made it out this far.

"you can't run forever!" one of the girls from the group yelled, "i'll get you for tripping me!"

it's not like y/n intentionally meant to trip her, her foot was just in the wrong place in front of the wrong person.

she panted as she heard the voices of the girls grow louder. she looked behind her, and could see them coming after her.

not paying attention to whats in front of her, y/n felt herself knock into something, which caused her to fall back. she hit the ground with a loud thud.

"nrggh," she groaned as she propped herself up. she put her hand on her head and winced. her forehead was burning with pain, and seemed to be bleeding too.

"ow," she heard someone else say. she quickly turned around and saw a young boy sitting on the ground in front of her. he looked up, and his eyes widened.

"oh my," he said, quickly dusting himself off and standing up, "are you okay, miss?" he asked politely and stuck his hand out.

y/n hesitantly took the boys hand, and he pulled her up. "yeah i'm okay," she said, "are you?"

"yeah, im fine!" he said, smiling. the boy had chocolate brown eyes, some of the prettiest eyes y/n had ever seen.

"there she is!" a voice yelled from behind y/n. she quickly turned around, and remembered that she was being chased.

it seems like the boy quickly took notice of this, as he kept a hold on her hand. "come on, i know a good hiding spot."

y/n hesitated once again, not knowing if she should trust the mysterious boy or not. with the girls getting closer, she had no choice but to go with him.

she nodded, as the boy began to run farther into the forest with y/n following him. her thoughts began to take her over. 'what if hes just luring me away?' 'what if hes not even a kid and some short old man?' were just some of the things she worried about.

"over here!" he said, interrupting y/n’s thoughts. he pointed to a large bush beside a pond, and the two children ran towards it.

the ran to the other side and ducked down, hiding. y/n sat down on the ground, and put her legs out. both her and the young boy were breathing heavily.

"thank you," y/n panted, smiling at the boy.

he flashed a warm smile and nodded. "my pleasure," he said, bringing his knees up to his chest, "who are those girls anyway? are they your friends?" he asked curiously.

y/n crossed her legs, and chuckled. "no, far from it," she replied to the boy.

"then why are they chasing you?" he asked, turning his head to the side.

y/n sighed. "i accidentally tripped the 'queen bee' of the group," she explained, "and i think she got pretty mad, cause now i've been chased into a forest."

the two children laughed, but quietly so that the group of girls wouldn't hear.

y/n raised her head a bit over the bush, to look for the group of girls.

"damn, where is she?" one of the girls called.

"i don't know," the queen bee of the group said. "when we find you, we'll kill you!" she yelled, and the girls' footsteps stranded farther away.

y/n sighed a breath of relief, and went back down beside the boy. she looked at the pond in front of her in awe. she had never seen it before.

"i never knew that there was a pond back here," she said, "it's beautiful."

"it really is," the boy said, standing up and walking to the edge of the pond. he turned to y/n, and motioned her to come with him.

she stood up and walked to the boy, and crouched next to him.

"look," he said, pointing to something on the water. y/n looked and saw a small frog on a lily pad. it was looking at the two children, before jumping off of the lily pad and onto the ground in front of them.

the boy held his hands out and the frog jumped right into them, croaking. he cupped his hands and sat cross-legged on the ground.

y/n joined him and watched as he held the frog so gently. most people would be scared to touch a frog, but it was as if the boy had some connection to it.

he looked up at y/n. "you wanna hold it?" he asked, holding his cupped hands out.

"uhm," y/n hummed, never having held a frog, or any small animal, for that matter.

"don't worry!" the boy said, his eyes lighting up when he smiled, "just hold your hands out like i did."

y/n hesitantly held her hands out to the boy, and he carefully placed the small frog in her hands.

she tensed up, not wanting to hurt the frog in anyway.

"just relax," the boy said, "just keep your hands like that and it'll be okay."

y/n looked at him, smiled, and looked at the frog. she took a deep breath, and relaxed her body. the frog let out a small 'ribbit,' which made the two kids chuckle.

"it must like you," the boy said, and y/n nodded in agreement.

only a few seconds after he said that, the frog jumped its way up y/n’s arm. she began to feel her body tense up again.

"oh!" the boy noticed, and he reached to grab the frog off of her arm, "it's quite energetic, isn't it?"

"y-yeah," she replied, her voice shaky.

"don't worry, it's fine! frogs do that all the time," the boy said, as the frog began climbing up his arm too. "see?"

y/n softly smiled as the boy took the frog off his shoulder.

"i'm wen junhui, by the way," the boy said, holding his free hand out.

y/n took his hand in hers, and shook it. "i'm y/n," she said, introducing herself.

junhui smiled as he let go of xinya's hand. "you know what, y/n?"

y/n cocked her head to the side. "what?" she asked junhui.

he gave her another sweet smile. "i feel like we're gonna be good friends."

-

and that they were, good friends. would spend every day together.

jun showed y/n every little aspect of the forest. she visited him every single day after school and spent hours exploring with him. she had finally found a good friend.

but like all good things, it slowly came to an end.

-

y/n, now 17 years old, ran up to her room and slammed the door. she bit her tongue and sighed, letting the tears fall down her cheek as she remembered her mothers words.

"the only available dorms are going to be closed if you don't move in right now. this is the greatest college in the country, you need to go." her mother's voice repeated in her head over and over like a broken record.

'i can't leave yet,' she said to herself, sniffling and sitting on the bed. she thought about having to leave junhui, the one person who she trusted in that god forbidden town. the only person who ever listened to what she would say. the only person who cared for her.

'i just can't.'

she laid back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling, her thoughts running all over the place. the main thought that was taking over her mind was how junhui would feel when he found out. she couldn't bare the sight of seeing him hurt.

she sat up and wiped another tear that fell from her eyes. she turned her head over and looked beside her.

"hey there, m'lady," someone from the window called to y/n. it was junhui, sitting in the window sill and giving her a smile.

she jumped, before sighing. "christ, jun, you scared the shit out of me," she said, putting her hand on her chest.

jun laughed, and fully climbed into her room. "well thats what you get for leaving you're window o-" he paused, taking a look at y/n’s face. his smile slowly faded into a concerned look.

he quickly got on the bed and sat in front of y/n, cupping her cheek. "are you crying? whats wrong?" he said worriedly and wiped a tear that was falling on y/n’s cheek.

y/n put her hand on jun's hand on her cheek. "yeah, it's nothing though," she lied, "i was just watching a sad movie."

jun gave her a sweet smile, and used his other hand to wipe tears falling down y/n’s cheek. "aw, princess," he comforted her, "don't cry! it was just a movie."

jun took his hand off of y/n’s cheek and grabbed her hand. "come on! i have something to show you!" he said excitedly.

y/n’s sniffed and gave her friend a confused look. "i-in the middle of the n-night?" she asked, her voice breaking a bit.

"yeah!" jun replied, "this is the best time to go, now come on!"

y/n’s smiled at her friend's excitement as she was pulled off the bed. jun lead her to her open window and he stepped out.

y/n’s stopped in her tracks, and furrowed her eyebrows. 'out the window?' she asked herself. "we have to go this way?" she asked.

"yeah, why not?" jun asked, popping his head back in the window.

"what if i fall?" y/n’s asked, stepping closer to the window.

"you won't fall!" jun reassured, grabbing her hand again, "i'll catch you if you do."

y/n sighed, trusting jun, and following him out the window. thankfully, there was a part of roof under her window, so she was able to step on that.

she stood straight up on the roof with jun right in front of her.

"do you want me to help you?" jun asked, holding his hand out to her.

y/n waved her hand to jun. "no, no," she said, "im fine." she laughed nervously, knowing she'd most likely fall.

she tried taking one step, but as she thought, she almost slipped. "woah!" she yelled, trying to balance herself. thankfully, before she could ever fall, jun caught her.

"come on," jun chuckled, holding her waist and hand, "i got you."

y/n’s heartbeat quickened. she was more scared now than ever. she held on to jun as tight as she could until they got to the edge of the roof.  jun let go of her, and she felt her whole body tense up.

"i'm gonna go down first," jun explained, walking over to the edge, "and then you can jump down, and i'll catch you, okay?"

y/n nodded, but she still had that gut feeling she was going to fall.

jun went to the edge, sat down, and pushed himself off the roof. y/n heard him hit the ground not too long after.

"are you okay?" y/n asked, still froze

"yeah, i'm good!" jun called from the ground.

y/n sighed. 'okay, i can do this,' she told herself, 'jun said he'd catch me.'

"come on!" jun called, "don't be afraid."

y/n gained enough courage to finally walk over to the edge. she looked down, and saw the ground. it had to be at least a 7 to 10 ft drop.

she took a few deep breaths to calm herself, and she copied jun and sat down on the edge.

she closed her eyes, once again telling herself that she would be okay. she began to count.

"1..2.." before she stopped counting, she put her hands down beside her, "..3!"

she pushed herself off of the roof, and began to fall to the ground. not even a second later, she felt hands grab onto her waist. she opened her eyes and saw jun holding her. she put her hand on his shoulders, and he set her down.

"see?" jun chuckled, looking down at y/n with his chocolate brown eyes, "it wasn't that bad!"

y/n chuckled, nodding in agreement. she took her hands off jun's shoulders, and he took his hands off her waist.

he grabbed y/n’s hand. "come on now!" he said, pulling her towards the forest. he began running, so y/n did too.

jun was a very fast runner, so y/n struggled to keep up without tripping. jun took notice of this, and slowed down to a good pace for y/n.

"what is it you're wanting to show me?" y/n asked as the two passed some trees.

"its a suprise," jun said as he began to slow down, "come on. its right this way."

he walked up to two trees, whose leaves were blocking the path between them.

"close your eyes," jun said to y/n, and she obeyed.

y/n heard the sound of leaves rustling, and felt jun pull her forward. she began walking, and felt her upper arms rub against the leaves.

"just a few more steps," jun said, and y/n could practically hear him smiling.

about two steps later, jun let go of y/n’s hand. y/n stood still, and heard jun stand beside her.

"open your eyes," he said. y/n slowly opened her eyes, and looked out in front of her.

she was standing on top of a hill that looked over the forest. thousands of trees were below her and jun.

"woah," she said, admiring the view, "its so pretty up here." she smiled, looking a jun, but he shook his head, and pointed to the sky. confused, y/n looked up, and her eyes widened.

up in the sky, thousands of stars shone. the moon was bright and big. the sky looked like one huge painting. it was...beautiful.

"oh my god," y/n said in awe, "jun, it's beautiful up here."

"you always said you wanted to go stargazing," jun said.

y/n heard something hit the ground, so she looked down, and saw jun laying down in the grass.

"so," he continued, putting his hands behind his head, "thats what we're gonna do."

y/n chuckled, and laid down right next to jun.

the stars were more visible now that she was laying down. the sight was so elegant that it felt unreal. y/n had never seen so many stars before that night. she was amazed.

"that there," jun said suddenly, pointing his finger, "is the big dipper."

y/n squinted her eyes, but couldnt see no dipper at all. "where?" she asked.

"right above my finger," jun said. y/n looked closer, and saw what looked like a huge spoon in the stars.

"i see it now!" she said, smiling.

"and if you look over this way," jun said, moving his finger over to the side, which y/n followed, "is the little dipper."

y/n looked and saw what looked like the big dipper, but small.

"woah," she said, awing at the two shapes in the sky.

the two watched the stars in the sky for what seemed like hours. jun told y/n everything he knew about stars and astrology. she could listen to him talk about it forever.

“why did you wait so long to do this?” y/n chuckled, “i’ve been wanting to do this for years.”

jun smiled. “i wanted it to be perfect for you,” he replied, “and this is the prettiest it’s ever been.”

y/n felt happy in that moment. she always felt happy with him. he was always so considerate. she felt happy doing something she had always wanted to do with him.

then, like a train, reality hit her.

she was leaving tomorrow.

leaving the forest she loved.

leaving.

leaving him.

it broke her heart knowing she had to tell him soon. she wasn't ready to leave, but she had no choice.

she was going to have to tell him in the next couple minutes, too, since she saw the sun rising in the distance.

"hey, jun?" y/n suddenly spoke up.

"yeah, whats up?" jun asked, sitting up.

y/n sighed. "thank you for tonight, this was really fun," she said to him, her smile wide.

jun smiled back. "my pleasure!" he said, "im glad you enjoyed it."

"but," y/n said, pursing her lips, which made jun's smile fade a bit, "i think i should head back. i don't want my mom finding out im not in bed."

jun nodded. "oh, yeah," he said, chuckling a bit, "it is getting late, isn't it?"

y/n chuckled and nodded, dreading going home, knowing that this was the last time they would hang out.

"do you want me to walk you home?" jun asked, interrupting y/n’s thoughts.

she nodded. "yes please," she said, and jun stood up, holding his hand out. y/n grabbed his hand and he helped her stand up. she dusted the grass and dirt of her clothes, and the two began to walk back into the forest. on the way back to y/n’s house, the two stayed silent, trying not to trip on any roots.

in about 30 minutes, y/n’s home came into view, and they stopped running.

"you know," jun said, looking at y/n, "we should do this again tomorrow."

y/n’s breath hitched. she was going to have to tell him right there. she wasn't ready. she didn't want to, but she didn't want to lead him on.

"hey, uhm," she stammered, biting her tongue, "about that." she looked down as tears flooded her eyes.

she felt jun place his hand on her cheek, and lift her head up. "hey," he said concerned, "is everything okay?"

y/n pursed her lips once again, and put her hand on jun's. she grabbed it and took it off her cheek, "i-i can't," she said, her voice breaking.

jun turned his head to the side, and furrowed his eyebrows. "can't what?" he asked her, his voice sounding worried.

"i can't go stargazing anymore," she told him, letting a tear fall down her cheek.

"why not?" jun asked, "did i do something wrong?"

y/n quickly shook her head, feeling worse by the moment. "no no," she reassured, "its not you trust me."

"then what is it?" jun asked, sounding hurt.

'i don't want to,' y/n said to herself, but she knew she had to.

"i-," she paused and sniffled, "i'm leaving tomorrow. for school."

'i did it,' she thought, feeling guilty about it all.

jun looked confused again, and as if he didn't believe her. "i thought you said you weren't leaving until a week before school started, and thats 3 months away."

y/n wiped a tear from her cheek. "the only available dorms need to be occupied right now or i won't be able to live up there. plus my mom's making me go right now, so-" she paused, and was now crying.

unexpectedly, she heard the sound of someone laughing. she looked up, and saw jun shaking his head, laughing.

"you can really be funny sometimes, you know," jun chuckled, but his eyes said otherwise, "you are joking, right?" he asked, his voice sounded hopeless.

y/n kept her head down, not wanting to tell him, or make eye contact with him.

she heard jun scoff, and looked up to see him shaking his head. "you're really leaving?" he asked, his voice breaking.

y/n nodded. "im sorry, it's not my choice," she told him, and he just laughed again.

"not your choice?" jun asked, his voice going from sounding hurt to sounding mad, "it was your choice to go to that school."

y/n kept silent, not knowing how to respond, but she knew she was just making it worse.

"so, thats it?" jun asked suddenly, "you tell me you're leaving then you go silent?"

y/n sniffled. she wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say.

jun exhaled, furrowing his eyebrows. "when are you leaving?" he asked, his voice calm, but the tone was still the same.

y/n wiped her tear. "early tomorrow, before noon."

jun pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a long breath. "so," he said, gulping, "this is it, huh?"

y/n felt her heart shatter when he said that. she really wished it wasn't 'it', but she had no other choice.

“im so sorry, jun," she cried, looking up, "i wish it didn't have to be this- jun?"

she paused, for when she looked up, junhui was no where in sight.

he was gone.

she didn't even get a chance to say goodbye.

[breakingsanity-aruani]

Hello Breaky,

One thing I am very excited about regarding your next fic “saving you” is the prerspective change we’ll see when it comes to Armin being small. Rather then Tinys being commonplace or at least known about. We shall see Armin in a position not even he fully understands how to deal with, I am especially looking forward to his first reaction to being tiny and the reaction of everyone else as well. The potential for shenanigans is very high.

Hi hi, Mercutio!! I hope you are doing well!! <3 As always, thank you SO MUCH for the ask!!

I am so so so happy that you are excited for my next major fic! And i'm very glad to answer questions about it!!! aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!

Yes yes, Saving You is another tiny!Armin x Annie story, where he shrinks down this time! Armin will be the same size here as he is in The Difference Between Us, 4 inches tall! Toy sized! Stuff him in your pocket-sized!! You get the idea xD.

As you say, rather than Tiny's existing and being 'creatures' that are well-known throughout the world, SY is a canon-divergence story... which means that Armin is going to be VERY out of water so to say. He will have to face this world that already made him feel small, while being LITERALLY SMALL... So, expect lots of angsty goodness, hehe. His first reaction will be notable and especially given the context of how and why he was shrunk in the first place!

The reaction of others is indeed something I want to include, though I can't say how much we'll get to see it throughout the main scenario, considering... but ofc, things can always change as I develop it more closely. What I do want to have are bonus chapters! Namely, with other characters getting their own time to spend with miniature Armin x3. So, I will say now, yes that includes Mikasa, hehe. Lots of cuteness is ASSURED!! SO MUCH CUTE!! Of course, there will be A LOT of shenanigans, ooooooh so much!! This fic will also take place during the 4 year timeskip after season 3, but then everything is different from there, obviously, haha.

Naturally, ponytail Armin is a MUST in my fics.... tiny or normal sized, heh.

I will be making more detailed explanation of Saving You soon, but, if you and others want to know more about ahead of time... I can make said post sooner than originally planned! Which is no problem :3

Thank you as ALWAYS for the lovely ask!! I cannot express it enough how much I appreciate you and other's questions! I'm so happy to answer each time x3. Please, be well and happy!! <3

[littlemourningstarr]

Do You Mourn the Passing of the Hours?

Former Professor Emmrich Volkarin had spent years settled into a quiet life running a small, quint flower shop in Nevarra. He expected that any excitement was far behind him. Enter, Lucanis Dellamorte. Professional assassin. Antivan Crow. A possessed man. A possible bad decision to take in Lucanis after an assassination goes slightly off kilter, and suddenly Emmrich finds his life is full of far more excitement than he'd ever had. But maybe, for the man who had begun to experience the world through a cloudy window of fascination but never truly partaking, the excitement would remind him what it was like to truly be alive again.

Chapter One!

Pairing: Emmrich Volkarin x Lucanis Dellamorte, Emmrich Volkarin x Spite, Emmrich Volkarin x Lucanis Dellamorte x Spite

Read below or on AO3!

Tags: tags to be added as we go, modern AU, flower shop AU, demonology AU, former professor Emmrich, still assassin Lucanis, physical hurt/comfort

Emmrich spritzed one of the plants in front of him, carefully inspecting the vibrant green leaves as the water stuck like dew drops. Content the plant was indeed thriving, he moved to the next, checking the large blooms. The shop around him was rather quiet, but that wasn't an odd occurrence, for him. Not many folks in Nevarra stopped by the flower shop without a prior requested order, and most of those were for funeral rites.

Humming to himself, Emmrich moved back towards the counter, setting the spray bottle down and glancing at the old clock on the wall. Not necessary, when he could check the time on the computer, or his phone, but he liked the air it gave the small shop. There was about an hour until closing- and already, he was considering what book he'd pick up, once he arrived home.

He was mentally debating between a bit of light fiction for the evening, or a deeper dive into one of his tomes on the history of spirits within northern Thedas- a rather dated book that had many points already disproved, however it was fascinating to wonder what had driven the author to come to the false conclusions he had- when the little bell atop the shop door tinkled. Emmrich glanced up, noticed a man had stepped in, was giving the entire shop a sweeping gaze.

"Ah, good afternoon!" The man shifted his glance to Emmrich and walked properly into the shop. "Is there anything I can assist you with?"

The man walked around the center display Emmrich had been watering, managing to not touch a single leaf or bloom, pausing when he reached the counter. This close, Emmrich wanted to swear his eyes were black. They were rather gorgeous.

A thought he quickly pushed aside as improper, as the man spoke.

"I'm looking for a specific bouquet." He reached into his pocket, pulled his phone out, obviously looking for a note on it. His accent was blatantly Antivan, and Emmrich wondered what had brought him to Nevarra. They didn't see a lot of visitors that weren't for one of their universities- not that this man couldn't be, but he didn't seem the scholarly type and-

Oh, Emmrich was mentally rambling again.

"Three roses," the man said, tapping his thumb on his phone, "and however many lilies you need to add around them."

An interesting choice- but neither bloom was difficult. Emmrich couldn't very well serve Nevarra and not have lilies on hand at all times. "A unique choice! What color lily would you like? And I do offer both red and white roses."

The man seemed taken aback slightly by the question. Ah, but so many were! Most folks assumed roses came in only red and perhaps pink, and forgot the lovely snowy white the petals could take. And the selection of lilies-

"What would you suggest?"

Emmrich smiled. "Well, that would depend on the message you're trying to convey. Red roses are a classic if you're looking for a more romantic and, if I dare say, sensual message to share. I've always found white roses a delightful nod to everlasting affection-"

He talks. So much.

Emmrich paused, for just a moment. The voice had been clear as day, yet the man hadn't moved his mouth in the slightest. Nor did it match his voice, it was raspier, like a death rattle ricocheting through brittle rib bones.

Thankfully, before his pause could be truly noticed, the man said, "Red."

Emmrich cleared his throat, nodding. "A… good choice, yes. So, three?" A nod from the stranger. "Fantastic. And the lilies, they come in so many shades-"

Make him. Stop!

Emmrich trailed off, knowing he had heard it again. He inclined his head, just slightly, studied the man in front of him- he seemed unphased, by the voice. But there was no mistaking a spirit's voice- he'd heard them enough, since he was a small boy. A gift, yes, he tried to see it as such-

Occasionally, it had felt like a curse, in his youth.

"What would be appropriate for a funeral?" the stranger asked, pulling Emmrich back from his thoughts.

"I beg your- oh, yes. Well, white is the classic funerary look."

"White, then."

Emmrich nodded, asking for just a moment so he could go cut and assemble the bouquet. He stepped into the small back room, closing the door behind him, taking a slow breath. It shouldn't be strange to hear a spirit's voice- not in Nevarra- but it most definitely wasn't here before his new customer had stepped into the shop. He'd dare guess it was attached to him.

A possession, perhaps? But the man seemed in full control. That would be quite extraordinary…

Emmrich forced himself to focus on his task at hand. He rolled up his sweater sleeves, the sound of his various bracelets clinking and chiming as he worked. He cut the three roses first, careful to avoid the thorns, before he began cutting each lily individually, slowly arranging them around the roses, until they were fully encircled.

He wrapped the bouquet in a gauzy black cloth, tied it off with a shiny red ribbon. Typically, he would have asked about such details- yet he had felt compelled in his choice. Not that is was a large change, if the customer disagreed.

He stepped back out, found the man waiting exactly where he had left him, studying his phone. There was a subtle air of excitement about him- not a good type, per say, but not impatience. Just a need for movement.

"I took the liberty of choosing these colors, I do hope that is alright. If not, I can change them-"

"It's fine." The words were slightly clipped, and as Emmrich set the bequest carefully on the counter, he realized why.

The voice was talking. Very softly, nothing but a grave whisper, words he couldn't quite make out, as if they were breathed into this man's ear alone. So he was definitely aware of the spirit, clinging to him.

Emmrich was sorely tempted to pry, but kept the questions to himself. That would have been impolite, even if he meant well. Instead he kept a rehearsed, pleasant smile on as the man paid for the bouquet and took them in his hands, holding them with such a delicacy that Emmrich was drawn to look at his hands, devoid of any adornments like his own rings. Why did he get the feeling those fingers, those hands, had the sort of control that could drive someone to their knees?

Oh, that was most definitely an improper thought.

The man headed for the shop door, but as he opined it Emmrich spoke again. "I'm sorry." The man glanced back at him, and Emmrich nodded to the flowers. "For your loss."

After all, why else would he want funeral lilies? Perhaps he was in town for a funeral, the passing of a friend, or, if those roses meant anything, someone more intimate. He seemed to be keeping himself together quite well, but Emmrich knew that never meant that someone hadn't just experienced something utterly life sundering.

The man glanced at the flowers himself, before he looked back at Emmrich. He gave only a nod, before he let himself out. Emmrich's shoulders sagged slightly once he was alone. He hadn't been expecting to hear from spirits today- and while he couldn't predict when he might hear from one, he hadn't come across a possible possession in years. And nothing where it seemed the spirit was simply holding on, but not taking full control.

He couldn't deny that his curiosity was piqued.

* Emmrich locked the shop door then pocketed the key, turning into the slight evening wind and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, the collar turned up and a light scarf around his neck. Gods, he got so cold as he got older, and he cursed it lately.

He always parked his car a block and a half over from the shop- mostly so that his clients could have the prime spots, but also as an excuse to get some fresh air every evening, if only for a few minutes. Despite the slight chill, he decided a walk would be good for him, and instead of turning in the direction of his car, he turned the opposite and began down the street. Shops were beginning to close up, but other evening life was picking up- restaurants becoming slightly busier, bars opening up for a proper evening.

There was a joy to watching the daily change, like a change of seasons. It gave Emmrich a moment to at least be around people. The only real interactions he had lately were customers at the shop and the occasional correspondences regarding his previous research work and teachings. And those were becoming fewer- except for one student, not from Nevarra- oh, he did hope he had an email from her that evening. An update on her thesis, truly a remarkable topic-

He rounded a corner, just to hear voices- one rather loud, a male, pleading. The street was fairly quiet, no other pedestrians about, and surely anyone inside a shop wouldn't hear anything over their own ambient music.

Emmrich went straight for the noise, leaning into an alley just as he heard a pained grunt, concerned that perhaps someone was ill. And while he had expected someone in distress, what he found was still far beyond any expectations.

There was a man, crumpled on the ground, a pool of blood forming beneath him from wounds on his chest or abdomen- at this angle, Emmrich couldn't be sure. He didn't recognize him-

But he did recognize the other man, leaning against the wall, panting heavily. The same man who had been in his shop, an hour prior, had bought the roses and lilies. He had a hand pressed against his side, beneath his jacket- and Emmrich could see his dark shirt was growing darker.

The man slid down the wall, head tipped back, looking up at the dreary sky- a Nevarran special. Emmrich rushed over, crouched down, ignoring the way it made his knees ache- and oh damn the chill and what it did to old bones- reaching out for the man and settling a hand on his shoulder. The man glanced at him, seemed to not even see Emmrich, before his eyes slipped shut, his head tipping to one side.

He was still breathing, it was quite obvious, but he was out cold. Emmrich glanced at the dead man, and knew the proper thing to do was to alert the authorities. But something about this seemed…

Not right.

He stood up with a whispered hold on young man, and hurried from the alley, backtracking. He ran in a way he hadn't in years, the few blocks to his car. He nearly dropped the keys when he tried to start it, and cursed his own shaking hands. Hadn't he been stead fast, once?

Once the damned thing was started, he drove back to the street, left the car running as he hopped out and hurried into the alley. He bent over and grasped the living man's shoulders, giving him a gentle shake. If he could just get him awake enough to get up, he could get him in the car- but he didn't think he could lift him as he was.

The man's eyes snapped open, but when they looked at Emmrich, the charming darkness he had found earlier was gone. They glowed a glorious amethyst, unlike anything Emmrich had seen in more years than he could count.

The older man didn't speak- he simply slid his hands down under the stranger's arms and tugged. The man stood on shaky legs, grunting in a voice that was brittle as he leaned forward, pressed his face into Emmrich's scarf, leaning his weight against him.

"Smells like flowers. Death. Loneliness."

The voice was exactly as Emmrich had heard earlier, death rattle. A spirit indeed.

But it wasn't the time or place to wonder what the spirit was, or why it was here- he was just thankful it had taken over enough to help him move the man. Emmrich walked him to his car, got him in the passenger seat, before he glanced back at the scene.

The flowers he had sold were clutched in the dead man's hand, as if they had just been gifted to him. Oh, that would be lovely to deal with once the body was discovered- everyone knew his handy work with flowers when they saw it. He could pluck the bouquet up, but something about it felt important.

He stepped back into the alley, found the man he had managed to pack into his car had left a rather devious looking knife where he had fallen. Emmrich stooped down and picked it up, not wanting to leave anything of the man's behind. He moved over to the body, noticed there was a much smaller knife protruding from beneath the corpse- as if he the man had used it and then collapsed onto the hand holding it.

Emmrich pushed at the body slightly- and oh, yes, this was a great decision to make, to not only remove a man who had most likely just committed murder in broad daylight, but to also take evidence with him. But he was operating on a gut instinct he couldn't seem to deny.

He pulled the little knife free, then hurried back to his car, tossing both in the backseat. He climbed in and threw the vehicle back into drive, speeding just a bit as he hurried from the city.

Emmrich's home was a solid twenty minutes outside the busier parts of Nevarra- an old country home. It was a lovely place of repose, and never once he had hated that he had been separated from the more lively aspects of the city.

Today, he was.

The spirit seemed to have receded- most likely not bemused by the pain it had discovered upon possessing the young man. Every thirty seconds Emmrich glanced at him, kept his eyes locked on his chest long enough to see it rise with a single breath, before looking at the road.

He ran two stop signs without even noticing.

By the time he pulled into his driveway, the cool wind had turned to a light rain. Emmrich always kept an umbrella in the car, but the thought to grab it didn't even cross his mind as he threw his car door open, rushing out and around it. He opened the passenger door, leaned in and gently shook the stranger by the shoulder's again.

When there was no response he said in a loud and stern voice- the kind he used to invoke when students were far too rambunctious during his lectures- "Spirit, I need you to wake up!"

Those eyes opened again, amethyst and glowing, and the man frowned. "Hurt- what is this?" Emmrich ignored it for a moment, trying to haul the man out of the car. The spirit had to assist, and gave a sharp, loud noise as it bent towards the wound on his side.

"If you want to continue having a host, you'll help me get him inside." Emmrich kicked the door shut- something he hadn't done since his youth- and all but dragged the man to his front door. The rain wet his hair, began to undo the work he put into it every morning, so that a few wet strands clung to his forehead. He managed to get the door unlocked and shut with his hip behind them. He headed for the stairs, and found he could barely step up the first one with the extra weight leaning into him. "You'll have to help more than that," he said, rather sharply.

The spirit grumbled, as if it had been about to slumber and been pulled awake again. But the man supported enough of his own weight that Emmrich could climb the stairs, guiding him. Without much thought he went for his own bedroom, shouldering the door open and guiding the man to his bed, helping him to sit on the edge.

"No. More!" As soon as the man was settled the spirit pulled back, and his eyes fluttered shut. He pitched to the side, collapsing into Emmrich's pillows.

Panting from the exertion, Emmrich simply stared at him for a moment. What in all of the heavens and hells was he doing?

Without a proper answer, he pulled his scarf off and shed his jacket, leaving both on the floor- very much unlike him- and began working the man's jacket off the arm near his injury. His knuckles brushed the man's side and grew warm, sticky, wet. A quick glance showed his shirt had been quite soaked with blood.

Emmrich cursed, before he pivoted from the bed and out the door, hurrying to the bathroom. He opened his sink cabinet, pulling out a well kept first aid kit, which had seen little to no use beyond the occasional band-aide due to a pricked or sliced finger.

He hurried back to the room, assessing the slumped man. He needed to get to the wound, but he didn't think he could get the man's shirt off the way he was- and he doubted the spirit was going to assist again.

He left just long enough to track down a pair of scissors, before he returned and grasped the hem of the man's shirt, pinching the fabric between the blades. In a shockingly quick and precise movement, he cut up to the collar, until it was split open like his jacket. Scissors set aside, Emmrich pushed the fabric from his chest and abdomen, found a rather small but deep looking wound, in the man's side.

A knife wound- the small blade he'd taken off the dead man.

Emmrich opened the first aid kit, pulled out a bottle of disinfectant, and after only a moment of consideration, poured a healthy dose directly over the wound. The man grimaced, tossed his head, face scrunching up in pain- but Emmrich had to ignore it. There was no world in which this would be pleasant.

He left the room again, feeling frenzied, disorganized, as he rushed for the linen closet. He tossed it open, pulled out a pile of towels, before closing it with his heel and hurrying back. He took a smaller towel and pressed it to the wound, applying pressure. While there was a lot of blood, he was pleased to notice the wound didn't seem to be bleeding heavily now.

He pulled the towel away, wiped at the skin with a clean corner, before he poured more disinfectant onto another one and wiped at the wound. Another little pained sound, and he glanced up at the man.

He looked much younger than he had, earlier, unconscious like this.

Emmrich turned back to the wound, moved the towel aside and piled on a few layers of heavy gauze from his first aid kit. He taped them on- with perhaps too much tape- but it held, and he was pleased to notice that the blood wasn't soaking through right away.

"Right. Crisis averted." He straightened up, his back aching from the amount of lifting and bending he had been doing, and placed his hands on his hips for just a moment, taking in the man's slightly damp hair, his sweat soaked shirt still hanging limply on him.

Concerned the man might end up ill on top of this, he sat on the edge of the bed, bent over and got his arms around him, carefully pulling him into a sitting position. He slumped against Emmrich, pure dead weight, and nearly knocked the wind from him. Still, after some rather frustrating effort, Emmrich managed to get the man's jacket and sliced shirt off his arms and tossed to the floor as well. He reached blindly for a towel, swiped it down his well but lean muscled back. He could feel how warm the man was, through the towel-

And, of course, by the way he was leaning into Emmrich. It wasn't unpleasant.

"Oh get a hold of yourself," Emmrich muttered to no one other than him, as he gently guided the man back down to the bed. He wiped down his chest, before he stood up, moving down the bed to work his boots off his feet. Then, with a bit of effort, he managed to free the blanket from beneath him and draped it over him, effectively tucking him in as he gently pressed the blanket just under his shoulders.

Content that the man was as comfortable as he could be, Emmrich walked out of the room, heading down the stairs and bee-lining directly for his kitchen. He felt as if he was on autopilot, as he took out his kettle, filled it with water, and turned on the stove to let it warm.

He was only pulled out of the mindless movement by an inquisitive little meow. He blinked, before he looked down, a gray cat staring up at him.

"Oh Manfred, how rude of me that I didn't greet you when I first arrived." Emmrich bent down, scooped up the cat and cradled him to his chest. The cat closed its shockingly green eyes, purring softly, as Emmrich rocked him slightly. "I fear I may have finally lost my mind, Manfred. There's a half naked strange man upstairs, and I think he might have killed a man."

The cat murped, but otherwise stayed content in Emmrich's arms. Right, of course he wouldn't care. So long as he was fed and still received the majority of Emmrich's attention, the world could burn and Manfred wouldn't bat an eye. He was just most of the company Emmrich had, and it felt odd and quite frankly, rude to not explain the situation.

Not that he could even explain it to himself. Not a single thing he had done since perhaps meeting this man's eyes for the first time could be considered rational. And Emmrich was, at his heart, a rational man.

Even if a large portion of academia might disagree and say he was far more driven by foolish, fairy tale delusions.

Emmrich sighed, finally set Manfred down, and moved to get a mug for his tea. He had a feeling this was going to be a long night- with more unanswered questions than he had even formed yet.

[tuesday-teyz]

Hai teyz,

Im really excited (scared, VERY SCARED.) for chapter 41 and i know that some of our questions will be answered in the next chapter, but i want to ask if in the next chapter, we will be able to see dreams perspective again or maybe george or technos perspective, since i really want to know how those two partnered up and what happened to dream :D

I don't think we're going to have a Techno or George perspective in chapter 41, as I'm planning something different. Remember how Wilbur and Techno's pov segments showed up occasionally before their respective interlude chapters? Well, I think it's time to give Phil a segment. I've written a little something (not guranteed to make it to the final version of the chapter, but a fun glimpse into his youth nevertheless!)

“If you’re done brooding, why don’t you ask someone to dance?” Clara said as she came up to him unnoticed, her hair and wings draped in jewelry, half her face obscured behind an ornate fan. She shone like the starlit night in the bountiful glow of gilded chandeliers, and any eye seeking Phil in the vast and teeming ballroom would inevitably stray to her instead. It was a small kindness in the greater scheme of things, but he was thankful nevertheless.

“And deprive the wall of the joy of my company?” he asked. “Never.”

Clara looked just about ready to smack him with her fan. Phil shuffled subtly out of range and sipped from his glass. “You cannot avoid it forever,” his sister said. “The public will expect you to name your empress before the year’s turn.”

Phil’s chest seized around a breath. He was still wearing the mourning colors, white as snow, and yet the proposals had already began flooding in, each new one bolder and more urgent than the last. Even the birthday celebrations were nothing more than a poor-veiled excuse for all the great lords and ladies of the court to try their young daughters for the new empress of the Antarctic Empire. Stronger than his disdain for the court’s cruelty was only his pity for the daughters.

“If rumors spread of me having a hand in Isey’s death, do you reckon that would discourage them for a few months?” Phil asked, thinking in pure hypotheticals. Feathers shot out to smack him in the back of the head all the same. He spilled half his drink on the floor and turned to glare at Clara, but she had already gone back to fanning her face like nothing happened, her wings neatly arranged and the jewelry tinkling softly as it moved.

[skimmingmilk]

Just binged the picket fence series and am now a mESS 10/10 excellent work. a query that I'm not sure if you've answered before, but is there plans for reuniting sonic with mighty n ray? I imagine that'd be one doozy of a emocoaster for everybody

Ahhh, thank you!! I'm a mess knowing you binged the whole thing! I feel like quite a few new people have been finding this series lately, and that's super exciting! Very glad you enjoyed it :D

As to a Mighty and Ray reunion, yes! That is a fic that has been in progress for a while now, but I wanted to get "Can't Cloud Rose-Colored Glass" finished first. Technically it's the next fic chronologically in the timeline, but it's probably not going to be the next one I work on. My priority at the moment is the next two chapters of "When the World Breaks" and the next three of "An Unstoppable Force." It's been too long since I've updated either of those, lol.

But! Yes, I do have plans for Sonic to reunite with Mighty and Ray :) And it will be an emotional rollercoaster to be sure!

[scrumpledorph]

Two points of preface. One, I like to talk in absolutes; 'never do this' 'always let this happen' etc. That's just a shorthand so I don't need to append a bunch of caveats to every sentence I write; in truth, there will be times where breaking the established rules will elevate your work. You kind of just need to get a sense for it, and I'm afraid I can't help you with that because it's also largely a matter of personal taste. Two, I'm not a professional, just a hobbyist with a couple friends who I solicit feedback from.

Likely the single biggest piece of advice I can give is: don't cut the tension. Marvel and its derivatives (henceforth referred to as capeshit for brevity) establish tense scenes, but they don't use them for tension - they use them as a punchline by having a character say or do something wacky right as things are getting good. Don't do that.

If you're establishing tension between two characters; an argument, a fistfight, what have you; play it out. Or, if you want that tension to linger; have an interruption that doesn't cut it, but denies them the ability to resolve it. Something more important than whatever they were fighting over comes up, and now they have to work together. This dovetails well into another piece of advice.

Have consequences for scenes. Capeshit more or less alternates between SNL bits and action scenes to make sure the audience doesn't get bored. Not much really matters. When two people shout at each other, have it mean something. Have an argument rise to blistering invective; make them want to genuinely hurt each other's feelings, and leave them raw after - towards each other and onlookers who try to make them feel better. Have a fist fight establish a power dynamic between two characters, have people lose or gain respect for the people involved based on whether they feel the attacker was justified or the loser is weak, things like that. A single interpersonal confrontation can loom over the story for chapters (scenes, episodes, etc.) if you do it right.

Treat your characters with sincerity. This is addressing lamp shading, and it's very closely linked to the first point. When capeshit has a character take themselves seriously, often the villain, other characters mock them in drawn out comedic sequences. While this can be done with intent - to show a lack of respect, goad someone into making mistakes, etc. the problem is the writers don't use it with intent: they always do this, because they're working with borrowed properties made to appeal to thirteen year old boys between twenty and seventy years ago, and think these characters are beneath them.

You should love your characters. You don't need to like them, maybe you think they're a weaselly piece of shit or an irredeemable monster, but you should be excited to flesh them out. You have to want the audience to feel things about them to elevate them above cardboard cutouts. This is a specific subset of the next point, but I felt it was a significant enough occurrence to warrant giving it its own paragraph.

Play it straight. Don't have your characters constantly questioning things if the only reason they're doing it is to signal to the audience that something is absurd. When confronted with the impossible, it becomes the possible, and the mind bends to accommodate it. No 'they fly now', no 'well that just happened'. Things are self evidently possible by virtue of them happening, and that's just how it is. If presented with enough confidence and follow through, the audience will accept it.

For an enduring example, JoJo's Bizarre Adventure constantly follows absurd leaps of logic, but Hirohiko Araki does it with such gusto and panache the reader simply can't question it in the moment, and even when they can later - they usually agree that it worked anyway.

As a closing piece, and I really believe this is arguably the progenitor of the entire problem: assume your audience likes your work. All of the things above are compromises made for a hypothetical reader, watcher, etc. who doesn't like your work, to make it more palatable to them. Cut that person out of your mind. You are creating art for yourself, and if they're lucky - a few close friends. Make your characters hyper competent and don't worry about the person saying it's unrealistic. Give your characters designs you think are cool without thinking about the Reddit dipshit who'll call it a donut steel. Let your characters give uninterrupted monologues at dramatic moments without imagining cinemasins dinging it because the other characters don't attack them while they're doing it.

To paraphrase a piece of advice from Mark Rosewater, the head designer of Magic: The Gathering; if everybody likes your work but nobody loves it, you will fail. It is better to alienate ninety people and make ten lifelong fans than it is to get one hundred fair weather fans. Capeshit ran out of steam the second the original set of characters were retired, because they were working off goodwill established back when they gave half a goddamn.

As I said at the start; every one of these points has caveats and exceptions that are too numerous to list. If I held you by the hand and told you exactly how to make every decision in your work, I can't imagine it would be very fun for either of us. But I hope I've established enough of a scaffolding for you to start building off of.

Few things I respect less than an artist or writer who lacks creative conviction. If your work is visibly self-conscious, how can you expect the reader to possibly engage with it with earnest? If even you don't believe in the work, how can the reader? Likewise I think that having artistic convictions is a boon that can guide a weak premise into a strong execution.

[two-reflections]

Of Steel and Flesh, Chapter 8: Renegotiation

Tragedy strikes when Interrogator Arion, Skitarius Escher, and the rest of the team return to the underhive to retrieve a special weapon.

[Rating: M, M/M, Chapter 8/13.]

[Tags: Inquisitorial Acolytes, Workplace Relationship, Team Dynamics, Action and Investigation, Fictional Religion and Culture, Medical, Pining. Minor Character Death.]

Thanks to @squishyowl for the dividers!

If you haven't read the rest of this story: Chapter 1.

[out-of-the-blue-comic]

FIRST || PREV. || Ch. 2 INDEX || NEXT

Pages 13-16

Anton kidnapped Amy and left Nicky in the dust. 

And Anton's bullish behavior and remarks struck a chord for Nicky, making him feel useless. Poor thing... This booster vaccine I got in the middle of the week actually destroyed me, so this was a little later than I wanted... Well, hope you guys enjoy regardless!

Join the Official Server || Become a Beta Reader. ☕❤️

[retellingthehobbit]

I'm on break this month! But the pretty-long next chapter of my webcomic adaptation, "The Song of the Lonely Mountain," will arrive on November 13th! Follow my blog here for updates :) In the meantime have a preview and a sleeping Gandalf. Here's a link to chapter 1 of this comic if you want to start from the beginning, and I'll see you all in a month!

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆ 

Chapter 3, After party

Masterlist

Word count: 1.2 k

Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Author's note: Tehee, I'm suddenly writing like I'm on fucking speed. Have another chapter while I'm not burned out from this story yet <3

Mature content under the cut.

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'Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me,' you hiss to yourself. You've gotten dried off and dressed after your very unsuccessful cold shower (that maybe ended in you masturbating anyway) and opened your phone to see if you had any notifications. The last thing you expected to see was a new video from Red Crow, aka Sylus, aka your neighbor, jacking off right after meeting you wearing the same thing shirt he had when he opened the door for you.  

Is he teasing you? No, surely not. He said he'd make a video if everyone begged for it, don't be delusional... It is a nice idea though. Him being that horny after meeting you for no more than two minutes. 

Before you can even watch the first ten seconds of the video, your doorbell rings. It scares the bejesus out of you and you almost drop your phone. Fuck, you need to calm down and you need to do it fucking now. Tara is at your door, and you need to get through a night of romcoms and facemasks before you can watch that video. 

You rush to the door and open it with a friendly smile, trying hard to hide the lust filled thoughts playing behind your eyes. There stands Tara, but she's engaged in a conversation. 'Oh, hello,' she says to you with a smile and turns to your neighbor's door, 'Kieran, Sylus, have fun. See you soon.' 

Shit, you just can't help it. You stick your head around the corner and there he stands, confidently leaned against the doorframe of his door, arms crossed, wearing a different shirt for a reason that you can very easily imagine after that video. He wears a self-satisfied smirk on his lips when he sees your head peak around the corner and nods his head to you. Your cheeks burn and you barely even notice Kieran standing there. You try to nod back at him as casually as you can but there's no saving you now. So you just head back in and wait for Tara to follow you in hopes that it won't look too strange. 

'What was that all about,' she asks, following you inside. You shrug and venture further into your apartment. 

'Do you want tea?' Tara frowns and closes the door behind her a little too loud. She seems more concerned than angry, just as she had this morning. 

'Ma’am, what is going on,' she demands, standing with her hands on her hips in the middle of the living room. If you hadn't know what kind of person she is, you might've taken it more seriously but with the way your brain is fried you fear you might not even be able to hold a normal conversation. 

'He's rude,' you blurt out, your filter completely gone. Shit, your brain really is fried. 'Anyway, what movie should we watch?' 

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'What was all that,' Kieran nearly cries out like an excited teenage girl while trying to hit Sylus’ shoulders. Not that he can. Despite his size, Sylus is incredibly fast. Blame years and years of boxing for that. 

'I have no clue what you mean,' Sylus says cold, calculated, monotone, but the slightest flinch of the corners of his lips give him away. He quickly turns to his bar cart to pour them all a drink, but then he spots the bottle of whiskey you gave him and his lips twitch up again. 

This time Luke also catches it. He turns on the couch, clutching the back and pulling himself up in a chaotic attempt to climb over and tease Sylus like there's no tomorrow. He fails miserably when Sylus looks back at him with one warning look while pouring the whiskey. 

Kieran sits down in one of the two big lazy chairs while Luke spreads out on the couch. 'Did she come over?' 

'She got me a housewarming present,' Sylus muses, trying to keep his composure as he grabs the three glasses of whiskey by the rims and walks them over to the coffee table. As soon as they're set down, Kieran and Luke shoot up to claim their glasses. 

'A housewarming present,' Luke says in a teasing tone while wiggling his eyebrows, his eyes flicking from Kieran to Sylus and back a few times. Sylus sighs and pinches his brow, still trying so damn hard to make it seem like everything is the same. 

'Whiskey,' he says to explain, 'she got me a bottle of whiskey.' 

'And you made her throat burn,' Luke teases once more, but this time even Kieran cringes. 

'And you wonder why you're single,' Kieran sighs. 

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'Come on, out with it,' Tara demands. Throughout the last two hours, you've been dancing around the topic under the guise of choosing a movie, making tea, putting facemasks on, painting each other's toenails, etcetera, but you're dead out of things to keep Tara busy. So you just give in. Well, you give in a little bit. Can't play all your cards yet. 

'He's hot okay,' you groan, 'he's fucking hot and I have a fucking dry spell.'  

That was clearly not what Tara expected you to say after you told her he was rude to you. 'Wait, back it up, I thought you were joking about you and Zayne just being friends.' 

'No, we're really just friends. We've kissed once to see if we wanted something more but neither of us felt anything.' She nods. 

'And Sylus is your type?' 

'Well,' you mumble, a blush forming on your cheeks, 'I guess. I've always liked them tall. Can't say I've ever met anyone like him before, though.' Mentally, you beat yourself up. This man is a sex God and you're sitting here, one measly wall away from him, blushing like Sylus and you are the main characters in a slow burn k-drama. 

'Fair enough,' she agrees and suggests, 'I can give him your number under the guise of telling each other about parties and stuff. Like what you did with Zayne.' 

'I don't think he's the kind of person who likes having his hand forced,' you note uncertainly, 'besides, he's a grown man. If he wants something, he can get it himself.' And shit, the way you would give it to him. They'd have to add a new level to the Richter Scale after you're done with him. Or he's done with you, whatever he prefers to say. You're not picky as long as you can feel his hands all over you. “Wait, stop, you're still with Tara. Calm your ovaries woman,” you mentally scream at yourself, hoping the blush on your cheeks still seems as innocent as it had a bit ago but you can feel your ears flush.

Tara agrees with a nod, seemingly not noticing anything: 'You're right. And he did seem to like you.' 

'That's probably just because I gave him whiskey as a housewarming gift.' 

'No, I don't think I've ever seen him look at a woman like that,' she says absentmindedly. You suddenly feel your heart pounding in your chest once more. Truly, your heart is trying to be your undoing. You're not supposed to like this person after meeting them once but at the same time, you've been watching him for ages. When you think about it, it actually feels a little bit weird. 

You've been watching him, he doesn't know you. And yet, he seems to be the more confident one.

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Taglist

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[chloecats7-arts]

A Star

and have two more cause I didn't know which one I liked more

once again this is from Starblind by @dancingthesambaa

Clothes are so hard for me oqzhufeufeufbf

[stargazinyx]

I know today is Halloween, but it's also the 5th anniversary of Deltarune, so happy birthday Deltarune 🍰💖

✦ Likes and Reblogs are very appreciated <3

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

🌸 !!CHAPTER TEN POSTED!! 🌸

Title: Four Walls

Tags: slow burn, domesticity, friends to lovers, smut, pining post sias/pre am era

Summary: Disillusioned with LA and on the heels of a breakup, Alex goes to stay with Miles in London.

[naffeclipse]

*Slithers to see crumbs of our favorite witch.*

ay yo a snake is watching me type