#How To Increase Your Height In 3

[shencomix]

How to Be The Dominant Male in Any Situation

Let's say you walk into a party.

You are wet and pathetic. Not only are you a worm, but even among worms you are the runt of the litter.

There's a way to fix that. Even you can be the alpha male in every situation you're in. Here's how:

Alpha Male Rule 1: Stand Tall or Very Short

In some things in nature, like rats and giraffes, the biggest creature in is leader.

However, in other things in nature, like the mafia, which has large goons but a small boss, the smallest creature is the leader.

You need to lean into whichever option is closest to you. If you are almost short, try wearing a big suit like a mob boss would wear to also make yourself wider like a mob boss. If are you almost tall, like I am, trying wearing these bad boys:

Now, I know what you're thinking: "High heels?? But isn't that for women???" Women have been hiding them from us men because they are afraid of how powerful we would be with them. But, why do women alone get to augment so much about themselves?? Look at all the eyeliner and mascara they need to even begin to mimic the power and seductiveness of our male eyelashes:

So, let's take a look at how we're doing now having applied just this one piece of advice:

It's a whole new situation. Let's move onto rule 2:

Alpha Male Rule 2: Always Get What You Want But Never Ask For It

I notice the man next to me has cookies. I would like one. Not only that, but there's also a woman next to me, watching. Asking another man for a cookie is extremely un-alpha behavior, so here's how you go about this situation:

1) Point out that someone else has something that you want

2) Cry until they give it to you

If everything has gone according the plan, you now have a cookie, and the woman is thinking something like this:

Let's move onto the last rule.

Alpha Male Rule 3: Always Up the Ante

Whatever you want to do or say, do or say it at least 3 times as hard as a regular person. When your coffee is $3, you should give $9 to show how wealthy you are. When you say "I'll be back in 5 minutes" you should actually be back in 15 minutes -- but really, you should say "I'll be back in 15 minutes" and be back in 45 minutes.

You should also start every task at step 3 rather than step 1. So, a normal (read: beta) guy might tell a girl "I think you're pretty" and then later ask "will you be my girlfriend?' But you should just say this:

99% of women will say yes, but if she needs further convincing, it can be helpful to offer her a small present, like a trinket or snack.

Congratulations. You have now learned how to be the most dominant male in any situation. Here are a few more tips for the road:

Claim to be descended from an ancient king or emperor. You can make a map or your lineage and fold it up to carry it in your pocket, so that you may unfold it whenever it needs to be presented.

If a woman takes a genuine interest in you, do the full body blush animation rising from bottom to top like you're a cup filling up, then run away, leaving behind a small cloud and a few speed lines. The idea that woman can actually like you is a lie perpetuated by Big Women.

If you want to further increase your height, try wearing bunny ears.

[rafeslvbug]

introducing…pediatrician!rafe

back to basics!! (physical)

height: 6”3 at minimum, the type of height where he can be assertive if needed with other doctors, or appear gentle to patients if he kneels down. some of the boys he has as patients, always say they aspire to be like “doctor cameron” and the dads are always envious of his height, as men are.

age: early 30s. had to do years of training && education. considerably young in his respective field, but widely praised for his efficiency and ability.

build: works out daily. believes in keeping peak physical fitness to take care of his patients. scrubs fir too tightly over his muscles. could be prone to ripping. mothers often find themselves staring a bit too long at their kid’s doctor.

looks!! (specific)

arms: consistent with any !rafe au, he’s got massive arms. but this is because

- a: to carry patients if need be (though he works with children) - you never know when emergencies might come up,

- b: he finds that having bigger arms is more comforting for little children when he has to hold them

- c: has to handle hospital equipment that might be heavy, and he’s a gentleman so he’s always helping people carry equipment if he’s not busy.

pager && watch: his pager is forever on him, not that he has no life outside of work, just that he cares so much about his patients. he won’t hesitate to cancel a day off for the sake of his patients. his watch is of course because of how much rafe is invested in his fitness and health. needs it to track his workouts and steps etc. or he also likes how convenient it is, to access emails or messages etc.

personality

patient: eternally patient. during arguments. meltdowns. when the baby’s been crying all night. all calm words and gentle movements. never yells. controls his anger and doesn’t make huge outbursts. even when stressed (unless it reaches an extremely bad point - this is rare)

multi-tasking: can put the baby to sleep in one arm and type up an article/report with the other hand while in bed. listens to research podcasts while cooking dinner so he doesn’t have to find time to do it later. efficiency is key. his job is already time consuming, and he wants to make sure he has as much free time as possible.

attentive: rafe’s busy. he’s always working overtime or being called away because of an unexpected patient issue. but when he’s at home with you? his pager isn’t off..but it’s not on his person all the time. he’s able to maintain work-life balance and he’ll listen to everything you have to say about your day. he loves your daughter to bits, and frequently says she’s his, always checking up on her and making sure she’s healthy (as doctors habitually do)

job

specialist position: neonatologist - someone who mainly looks after premature babies’ development and intensive care for infants.

salary: $350,000+ (excluding bonuses and potential to increase)

reputation: young, but well respected. considered one of the best in his field in the hospital. always gets compliments from patients, and dedicated to his work.

likes

stress-free days without overtime. he lives for any ounce of free time, no matter how satisfied his job makes him. likes to be home, likes having time go on hikes or play with your baby.

getting called your baby’s father. he loves it when he gets to say he’s the dad, or when you call him the dad. even if he’s not biologically her dad, he’s the only one who’s been present. adopts her relatively quick.

picking your daughter up from daycare. loves the way her face lights up when she sees him, how she’ll run as fast as her little legs can take her and getting to scoop her up into the car.

when you come to him for help. whether it’s with your daughter or anything tbf. he loves helping, loves being the person you rely on.

dislikes

when you go to a different doctor for help with your daughter. if anything starts arguments it’s that. he wants to be the one to look after her, because it’s all he’s done since she was born. he thinks of himself as her father, and wants you to too. a father looks after his daughter.

patients who bring in their children for dumb reasons. a common cold? wasting his time because they act like they’ve never had a cold before. children in his care are in critical condition, not basic colds, and these people are usually insufferable because they force themselves to the top of his list of priorities.

your ex. never even met him, never even seen him. hates him. loves that he left in a way, because it means he could be in your life, but hates the man for what he put you through.

pet names

he gives you: baby, sweetheart, babygirl, honey, busy lady

you give him: doc, handsome, honey, baby, darling

what he’ll call your daughter: sweetie, pumpkin, little lady,

[utterlyazriel]

let me keep you company

a/n: a wee break from the doom & gloom of wtssf! it's unedited so i want no flack for that thank u <3 enjoy <3 wc: 5.1k whoops synopsis: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.

For the record, you had never met a Shadowsinger before.

You'd never even seen one. Sure, you’d read about them briefly in your studies and almost every Fae in Prythian had heard about them in whispers and rumours.

Rumours that increased more so when a Shadowsinger rose to become a hand for the Highlord, his own personal spy. Then became the spymaster of the entire Night Court for the next Highlord.

But beyond gossip and unfinished chapters within the scripts of your libraries, the knowledge of Shadowsingers is far limited. They’re rare. For all you know, Shadowsinger’s are a ghost— moving as a shadow, disappearing in and out of the darkness of the world.

You had never met a Shadowsinger before—so it makes sense that you hadn't an ounce of a clue what to expect.

Staring at him now, 6 feet something of pure muscle, you're a bit embarrassed at your own surprise.

Because he's probably— no definitely— the most beautiful Fae you've ever laid eyes on. His hair is tousled and dark, his glorious tan skin that's mostly hidden beneath the black of his fighter leathers, and his amber eyes that laid on you for only one long moment. Breathtaking is the only adequate word for him.

All that beauty and he's a Shadowsinger.

And it's not like you thought he wouldn't be like, well, any other Fae. But also... you kinda did? Mother, you should've known Freya was tricking you when she said they were all just shadow-y corporeal forms.

But she's also not entirely wrong there. There are dozens of wispy shadows that hover around him in constant motion, dipping and flying around his shoulders and if you look close enough, you can see how he seems to ripple at the edges. Shadows blur the edge of his very being.

You wonder if he can disappear into them all together, if that was one of the abilities granted with them. Does he control them? He must, you think, if the title is Shadowsinger.

But looking at him now, his beautiful face turned to face the Highlord you should definitely be listening to, they flit about almost absentmindedly, as though they have a mind of their own.

One curls up by his ear and you watch it, fascinated, more and more questions springing up in your mind— what do they feel like on skin? Do they make any noise? Is that what they're doing now? Talking to—

A sharp elbow jabs into your side, making you jump.

Your head whips to the side, an instinctive scowl almost overtaking your face before you plaster it over with a smile, realising your mistake. Your mentor, Sergei, clears his throat and smiles awkwardly ahead at Rhysand. You blink and take another moment to realise you've been asked a question.

"I'm— I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" You try not to sound as mousy as you feel but the question comes out as a squeak anyway. He is the Highlord of the Night Court after all. You suddenly feel very foolish for being so easily distracted.

Thankfully, Rhysand regards you with an easy smile. He's leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and his violet eyes dance with humour as he flicks his gaze over to where you had just been staring.

"That's alright. Azriel is a piece of eye candy, I can't blame you for staring," He all but purrs, a hint of mirth pulling at his lips as he casts another glance at his Spymaster. You're taken aback by the casualness of his words.

Rhysand continues. "I was only saying that for the duration of your stay, you'll be hosted in one of my homes, the House of Wind. You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"

A smidge of fear pinches at your stomach because, honestly, you aren't overly keen on the idea. But you know better than to turn down the generosity of a Highlord.

You take another glance at the wings of his Spymaster and General and pray that it's not too high up.

"Not... much." You answer honestly.

There's a chuckle from the side of the room and your head swings around at the noise. It's not the Shadowsinger, though he looks as though he's politely trying not to smile, his chin ducked. It's the General, just as beautiful as his brother but in that more rugged way.

He flexes his wings out a bit, showing off their mighty wingspan. "We'll rid you of that fear in no time."

You try for a smile but it might be closer to a grimace.

"Fantastic." You say, not managing to put all your enthusiasm into the word like you hoped.

Another sharp jab of Sergei's elbow in your side. The Shadowsinger, Azriel, huffs a quiet laugh, his amber eyes flashing up to steal another look at you. You try your best not to fluster.

It's going to be a long two months.

—

As Sergei's apprentice, you're expected to shadow him through his allowed time within Velaris.

Which means if he goes to the library, you go to the library.

There's just one problem; the library is down in the city and your temporary home is up in the mountain. The quickest way down is with wings.

Rhysand— or just Rhys as he had told you to call him— had relayed the information that you could ask either Cassian or Azriel to escort you if you didn't wish to take the stairs.

Cassian, the General, had been the one to fly you down and back the first couple of times you had asked and you weren't in any particular hurry to relive the experience.

Cassian was nice and he was more than friendly but seemingly incapable of understanding any fear of heights. You weren't sure if that was just the only way to fly— swooping and dropping fast enough to make you shriek— but it certainly seemed to be Cassian's way.

Which leaves you with the option of either asking the Shadowsinger or taking the stairs.

You get down about two hundred steps before you start to regret your decision. But, also, how in the Cauldron were you supposed to ask him to take you? (Never mind that you had asked Cassian quite easily, albeit very nervously.)

Oh, hi Shadowsinger who I can't stop staring at for both your abilities and your handsome face—care to sweep me into your arms and carry me places?

As if, you snort to yourself.

You take the thousand stairs all the way to the bottom and trot towards the enormous library, pretending your thighs aren't aching with overuse or that you're out of breath. Thankfully, the library itself isn't too far from the House of Wind, carved into the same side of the mountain.

As expected, Sergei is less than pleased with your tardiness.

"Sorry," The word rushes out of you in a wheeze, probably too loud for the library, as you scuttle in the entrance. A few priestesses turn their heads to look at you and you cringe, raising your hands in apology. "Sorry, I'm sorry,"

You focus back on your mentor and try to catch your breath, all while you explain. "I took the stairs and it took—" You huff out a breath. "—way longer than I thought."

Sergei's face softens a bit at your explanation, his face taking on a pitiful smile. "Still not enjoying the flying?"

"You are?" You ask in response. The thought of Sergei, your old-Fae mentor, swept up in Cassian's arms as he dips and dives makes you chuckle just a bit.

Sergei shakes his head as if to change the topic of conversation, deciding you've wasted enough time already. He turns, beginning to head further into the library and you follow behind him closely, eager to brush over your early morning fumble. The cavernous structure within the mountain yawns out ahead of you and you get all of two moments to wonder just how deep down it goes, when—

"You did not ask for a ride this morning."

Azriel steps up beside you, seemingly from nowhere, his steps falling in time with yours with ease. You jump, startled, and your footsteps falter for a moment. You're relieved to say that you only make one embarrassing noise in your surprise.

"I— oh, it's— I mean, I just..." You trail off, feeling flustered. "...like to walk."

You chance a glance up at him. He's wearing that same polite expression from yesterday, as though he's trying not to laugh and you get too caught up in the swirlings of his shadows to remember to be properly embarrassed. Both of you walk in tandem behind Sergei, slowly descending into the lower levels of the library.

"If you insist," He says, his voice low. It sends something warm down your spine and you pray he doesn't notice how your body temperature is definitely climbing.

His amber eyes pin you with another look, his lips twitching into a small smile. "However, if Cassian is giving you trouble, I would be happy to provide a smoother ride."

You flounder for a moment. You don't want to get anyone in trouble.

"I— he's not giving me trouble," You stammer.

Azriel smiles a little wider as if he can tell how polite you're trying to be. He slows to a meander and you realise only after you walk past him, it's because Sergei has stopped himself, turning down one of the many aisles.

You skid yourself to a halt and turn back, praying your flaming face isn't as obvious as it feels. You're not entirely sure if Azriel is accompanying you today but you're sure that Sergei would've mentioned it if he was.

You dip your head in a strange, awkward bow motion. Then point to the aisle Sergei disappeared into.

"I'll be... going this way."

Azriel's smile grows, like you've told a joke, and he ducks his head. He peers up at you through his dark lashes and you wonder if anyone's ever told him how damn beautiful he is. Probably. You're probably the last in a long line of people. Mother, his eyes though.

"If you don't wish to make the hike the other way," He murmurs.

He extends one of his hands and you watch the dozen shadows swarm around it, one of them separating from the pack to dive to the ground. It shoots forward and spins around your ankle, almost happily. "Just let the shadow know. I would be happy to assist."

When you look back up, he’s already gone without a sound. You try not to look so surprised— you’ve seen someone winnow before but you’re almost certain that the way Azriel moved about silently was something else altogether.

“Y/n!” Sergei’s voice echoes down the shelves, reminding you that you’re still late. You throw a quick glance around to check but it's fruitless; you can’t see the Shadowsinger anywhere.

You turn and bustle down the aisle quickly, not wanting to keep Sergei any longer. It takes only a second to notice the sole, black shadow that dances along behind you.

Guess you have company.

—

Okay, so, the shadows are definitely their own little guys.

Mainly because you can’t imagine how Azriel would be controlling them when he’s nowhere in sight.

And this one shadow is being awfully helpful.

The first time you drop your quill, knocking it to the ground as you lean over one of the many intricately carved desks, trying to reach another book, you don’t even notice it fall to the ground.

In fact, you have no idea how many times it’s picked up your fallen quill that you’ve undoubtedly knocked over countless times— only that it had given you the fright of your life to have it hover before your face, gripped only by the wispy shadow Azriel left with you.

“Holy shit!” You gasp, your loud voice echoing in the quietness of the library.

Sergei's head whips up, his eyes narrowing at the intruding sound with evident disapproval. You quickly snatch the quill out of mid-air and sink down in your seat. Gods, the echoes in here were doing you no favours.

“Sorry,” You whisper. Your eyes dart down to the shadow that retreated to your side, flickering around your ankle more wildly. “Er, thanks.”

It feels a bit silly to give thanks to something you’re not sure can hear you. But you figure if it can pick up your quill, you're better off using your manners.

Sergei gives you a somewhat bewildered look and you try to appease him with an awkward smile. It works enough for him to continue his work but not without one more lingering glance of worry in your direction. Great. You're talking to shadows and your old-man mentor thinks you're a bit nuts.

The shadow continues its helpful endeavours, following you when you head down different aisles at Sergei's request. It dances across the shelves, dissolving occasionally just to puff back up somewhere else, pulling your attention this way and that. It's playful. Friendly.

You deduce by the end of the day that you know even less about Shadowsinger's than you had thought. The abilities and personality of just one shadow are uncanny; like a silent friend keeping you company. You imagine that Azriel rarely gets lonely with as many as he has. Maybe you'll ask him.

When Sergei and you wind back up the staircases and he dismisses you for the evening, heading into the city for his own further business, you stand at the mouth of the library and ponder if you'll be brave enough to summon the Shadowsinger.

The shadow is still with you, circling your wrist absently. You peer down at it and think of all those stairs. Somewhat nervously, you raise your hand and try to be as casual as possible about talking to a shadow on your hand.

"Hi." You start, trying not to feel foolish. "Um, well, I guess I'm done for the day. Could— could you, if he's not busy that is, uh, let Azriel know? I don't mind waiting if he is."

The shadow zips off barely before you can finish your sentence and your head swings to watch it go, disappearing somewhere to your left.

You can't help but be a little amazed at its speed—it must be an incredible networking system to have a thousand little spies running around for you. No wonder almost all Shadowsingers tend to end up in the same line of work, you think to yourself, still peering in the direction of the shadow when—

"Y/n."

Even though he's said your name soft and quiet, Azriel still manages to take you by surprise. You jump and turn, all in one motion.

"Mother!" Your hand holds over your chest, relief curling in at the sides as your fright ebbs away. "That was fast."

"You called," Azriel responds, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. He gives you an almost shy smile.

It makes you fluster a bit and you gesture to the exit awkwardly and wordlessly, if only so you don't have to come up with a response to his intense and endearing answer.

Together, you wander out from the library and creep towards the edge of Velaris. It's a beautiful city and more than deserving of its title, especially when viewed from the House of Wind. You turn and cast your eyes up the mountainside, your familiar nervous fear pitching up from your stomach.

Then you look at the warrior beside you, tall enough that he's got what feels like more than a head's height on you, with his wings reaching above even his own head. His jaw is sharp and his eyes are already on you as your gaze trails up his face. Fuck. He's really pretty.

Now you're nervous for an entirely different reason.

"We can still take the stairs if you wish," He says, his hand sweeping back to the path you had followed along this morning. His shadows move with his hands, a black vortex that whirls around and around. "I'd be more than happy to keep you company."

Mother, he's not helping you in the slightest, being so perfectly nice to you. You regard the stairs and think back to how many hours it took before your thighs stopped aching—and that was on the way down.

"No, we can- we can try flying again." You say, nodding to yourself as if it'll help quell your fear. It takes another moment to realise that means you'll be bundled up in his strong arms, held against his broad chest and you feel a little shiver run through your body at the thought.

Azriel notices it too, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "You're sure?" He checks.

You nod, not meeting his eyes, trying to keep your nerve. Flying is already something you're not keen on. Flying whilst being swept up in the arms of a Shadowsinger who you think is the most beautiful Fae you've ever seen? You send a silent prayer to the Mother that you don't do something embarrassing, like puking down his front.

"Let me know if you're uncomfortable at any time," He says softly and then he bends his knees slightly, one of his scarred hands resting on your lower back as the other scoops beneath your knees. He lifts you as though you weigh nothing.

It's impossible not to flush as you get nestled against his firm chest, your hands panicking for a moment as you try to think of a normal place to put them. Around his neck? On his chest? Either of them feels far too intimate for a man you've known only a week.

"You don't have to but I would suggest holding on," Azriel comments with a smile, his chest vibrating with the words. You nod, agreeing with him, but don't make a move to do so, only holding your hands out in front of you to indicate you're not sure where to put them.

The shadows adorning his shoulders move on their own, their friendly presence easing your nerves as they slither down to circle around your wrists. There's a gentle tug and you let them move your hands til they're wrapped around Azriel's neck, moving you much closer in the process.

Gods, your faces are close together. Another couple of inches and you could probably press your lips to his perfect ones—a thought that makes you fluster all over again. Was he getting prettier every time you saw him? For not the first time, you thank the Mother that it was Rhys with the daemaeti gift and not Azriel.

"Ready?" He checks, which is sweet. Cassian had just shot up into the sky the first time, without any warning.

You grip your arms around his neck a little tighter and then nod. "Ready," You say, quieter than intended.

You catch just a moment of Azriel's demure smile, your heart swooping at the sight, before you're both launched into the sky with one flap of his wings.

The noise that escapes you is one you're less than proud of, a squawky sound noise of panic that you bury into Azriel's neck. You expect him to laugh like Cassian had, not meanly but playfully, but instead Azriel's arms just tighten around you. As if he was assuring you that he would not let you fall.

By the time you're up at the House of Wind, Azriel making a far more graceful descent than his brother, you're less freaked out and more ready to point some accusatory fingers in the face of the Night Court's General.

That bastard had been fucking with you! The flight with Azriel proved as much, considering how much calmer and smoother it had been. You couldn't help but say as much as you were placed down from Azriel's hold, glad to be back on solid ground.

"I have some words for Cassian, Mother above," You ramble, straightening out your rumpled clothes from the flight. "Did he think I was kidding when I said I was afraid?"

Azriel smiles at your fieriness, his shadows calmer than they were in flight, moving about lazily. His eyes take a fleeting glance at the house behind you before focusing intently back on you.

"Cassian can have a strange sense of humour at times. He means well." He says. Then he grins. "I should like to see you tell him off— not enough people do."

You hmph. "Maybe I will."

You suddenly realise the closeness between you and Azriel, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. His scent of cedar and mist swirls around you, tantalizing and alluring in a way you've never known before. You take a step back to contain yourself.

"I—uh, well, thank you very much." You say, as sweet as you can. "For the ride."

Your eyes catch on one of his dozen shadows and you smile, observing them for a moment. "And the shadow. It was excellent company."

Azriel brightens, an expression of surprise crossing his face before he schools it away. He smiles, brazen and breathtaking. When he speaks, he sounds a little disbelieving. "You like them?"

You nod quickly, noticing how one of his shadows has snuck off again and circulates your ankle speedily. You laugh at the ticklish feeling of it against your skin.

"They're incredible." You breathe, meaning every word. "I imagine you must've ge—"

"Apologies, y/n." A smooth voice cuts in, Rhys stepping up somewhere behind you and stealing both of your attention. He dressed in more casual clothes than you last saw, but not quite Azriel's fighting leathers. "Azriel here is needed for some brief business. Do you mind if I borrow him?"

The way he poses the question, as if Azriel is yours, does something wonky to your heart. You flounder for a moment, stepping back and waving your hand in the direction of the Shadowsinger.

"Of- of course, by all means." You trip over the words and hope you don't sound too eager to escape his company. That couldn't be more untrue.

You turn back to Azriel and fix him with a smile, hoping it's not as nervous as you feel. "I'll... see you around?"

Azriel steals a glance to the side where Rhys awaits before he nods with another reserved smile. Hold on, is that pink on his cheeks?

"Let me know if you need any more help getting to and from the library. I'd be happy to assist."

And then with a quick nod to you, he walks off to join Rhys, his wings tucked in tight, careful to not nudge you. You watch them go, unable to stop yourself from letting your eyes wander down. Damn, all that training did wonders. What was that saying? Hate to watch 'em go, love to watch them leave.

Ahead, Rhys abruptly laughs and peers back over his shoulder, letting you exactly how well you had shielded those thoughts. You flush and scurry into the house as if it'll save you from the embarrassment of what's just happened. You only hope he won't pass the message on to Azriel.

—

It continues like that for the rest of the week.

Azriel carries you down the height of the mountain and leaves you with a promise that if you need anything, you can tell the shadow and he'll come to find you.

The shadow keeps its usual playful company. Beyond retrieving your dropped quills, it helpfully turns the pages of books for you. When you're focused on what you're writing, it nudges back any loose strands of hair. Once it even brings you a flower from Mother knows where. One single Lily of the Valley, left resting on your desk.

It makes you wonder; are all Shadowsinger's shadows like this? You can't help but imagine these niceties are shaped by Azriel's own soft nature.

Today, whilst you study in the vast caverns of the library, you get an unexpected visitor.

As you take your time scanning through the books in one of the vast aisles, you realise the Fae coming down from the other end of the aisle is none other than the Highlady herself.

"Feyre!" You greet warmly. The two of you had met before when she had taken duties in your home court and if it weren't too bold, you'd say you consider yourself good friends. Feyre smiles, glowing like moonlight, as she realises who it is.

"Y/n," She says your name sweetly and her hug is just as such. She pulls away, ready to inquire about your studies when she spots the trailing shadow behind you.

"Making friends, I see," She comments. Her eyebrows raise almost teasingly as if she's made a certain insinuation. You take a moment to notice what she's referencing.

"It's nice," You say, a defensive lilt to your tone. You hold out your hand and the shadow jumps at the opportunity to skitter around it playfully. "It's like a little friend."

Feyre smiles at your words but chuckles a little. "Except Azriel is anything but little."

You pause at her words, glancing down at the shadow and back up at Feyre. "What do you mean? I thought— they're not- I mean, aren't they...?”

You trail off, unsure of how to word the question you're trying to ask. Feyre smiles, her gray eyes glittering with mirth as she realises what you're figuring out.

"They're all his. Azriel's. He controls them." She tilts her head a bit, watching the shadow that drifts about your hand and wrist. "True, they roam a bit on their own but... Not like this."

"Oh," You murmur, thinking back to that first day in the library.

The playful shadow that lead you back and forth, picking up your quill and turning your pages. It was him, all along.

Something immeasurably warm starts to glow in your chest, a thread that loops through your heart and sends the valves into overdrive. Its warmth grows, something molten hot beginning to bleed in your chest— and it feels wonderful. It feels right.

"Oh," You gasp as you figure it out.

Feyre grins, watching you piece together what the rest of the inner circle has clued together from the very first day. She stands to the side and gestures to the entrance of the library with a tilt of her head.

"Go on then," She urges you.

For a moment, you think back to Sergei who sent you hunting for a certain manuscript Cauldron knows how long ago but the thought is washed away in an instant. You can feel it now, the strong tug in your chest. The connection that binds you to another.

You stride past Feyre, giving a quick thanks! and all but run up the spiral staircases, heading for the entrance. The shadow pings along with you and as you near the top, you look down at it and say through huffed breaths, "You better go get him."

He's waiting by the time you get there.

Against the setting sun, for a moment there's only the silhouette of him— a warrior with tall wings, the edges of him rippling like a mirage. He might just be one; an oasis in your life, the answer that you've been searching for for centuries. You can't believe you didn't notice.

Your footsteps echo on the marble as you march right up to him and Azriel watches you closely the whole time, his amber eyes soft but his expression hinting at his nervousness. Gods, he's wonderful. You can't believe he gets to be yours and you get to be his.

"How long have you known?" You ask because it's the first thing on your mind. You're nearly panting from the exhilaration of your sudden exercise, from the dawning future that's blooming right in front of you. He's your mate. Gods, how could you have missed it?

Azriel smiles, that same tentative one that's been driving you crazy all week. His wings give a little shake behind him, a giveaway of his nerves.

"I... suspected from the beginning." He chooses his words carefully, wary of how you might respond.

You can't help your little gasp, feeling even more of a fool. You curse, ducking your head before you glare back up at him, no real heat in your gaze. You have the urge to give him a little shove, just for keeping you in the dark.

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

One of his shadows spins up unexpectedly, dancing across your shoulders and tickling your cheeks gently. You startle in surprise but something sweeter curls up in your chest at the tenderness of its touch.

"Believe me," Azriel says with a quiet chuckle, his amber eyes darting over your face intensely. "I've been trying."

You melt. Eyes locked with his, you move slowly, letting your arms drift up to drape around his neck like they've done every morning and evening since he began flying you around. You realise acutely that Cassian's behaviour, his shoddy flying, had likely been on purpose. You laugh a little, eyes creasing shut in pure euphoria.

Azriel's hands find your waist and you can feel the slight tremble in them.

"In my defense," You murmur, pushing up on your toes. You're close, so close, your lips hovering just an inch from a kiss—his shadows go wild around you both. It makes you grin. "I had never met a Shadowsinger before."

"Yeah?" Azriel breathes shakily. "Disappointed?"

He says it like a joke but you can hear the note of sincerity in his tone. His hidden worry that he isn't all you dreamed of. It's nearly laughable how wrong he is.

This close you can see his long lashes and every shade of brown in his eyes. You wonder if you'll ever get used to how beautiful he is. Part of you hopes you never do.

"Not in the slightest," You say, nearly a whisper.

Then his lips are on yours, pillowy soft skin against yours, and it feels like coming home. He kisses you, kisses you, kisses you til you're breathless and the glow in your chest could rival the sun in its warmth.

He kisses you and every atom in your body hums and fizzes and comes to life — and all you can do is hold him tight and kiss him back, just as fiercely.

Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant and grin brazenly at Azriel, at your mate, happier than you've ever been. Faintly, you realise that you won't be heading home when the two months of your study are up after all.

Not when you have a man who looks at you so reverently, who kisses you like there's oxygen hidden in the plush of your lips, who holds you like there's nothing more precious in the world.

Not when you know that home is right here, in front of you.

[puck-luck]

Omg omg congrats on 1k, well deserved, well deserved!! I love the theme, it's so cute, and I love your fics sm😭

Okok, can I request Luke Hughes, diamonds w/prompt 25 + spit and size kink (if you can wiggle it in, no worries if not!). Thank you so much and congrats once again! <3

@star2fishmeg anything for you my queen!! i tried to squeeze everything in :) you are always so sweet & i love seeing you in my notifs and asks <3

Warnings: spit kink, size kink, dirty talk, mentions of cockwarming. WC: 821

“They just don’t know you like I do,” Luke muses, never letting his lips part from yours for very often.

‘They’ refers to your friends, who have just met Luke for the first time. You all went to dinner together. You’re not the tallest woman, and you’re perfectly comfortable with that. In the past, you’ve been known to avoid height differences. Secretly, it’s because you don’t think anyone should ever be able to see the top of your head so easily. 

Luke is the exception to the pattern. In the months that you’ve been dating him, he’s proven time and time again the height differences– and size differences in general– have their advantages. 

His cock is the biggest you’ve ever taken and it drives you wild. When Luke fucks you hard, it feels like he’s actually rearranging your insides. When he fucks you soft and sweet, he still brushes against your deepest spots.

Luke bites his bottom lip, then mouths at yours. “All those other boys,” he ponders. “They can’t fuck you like I can, can they?”

“No,” you agree. “Fuck, Luke, you’re so big. Y’fill me so well.”

“Mm,” he hums. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Luke shifts inside of you, bringing a hand to your thigh and guiding your leg until it hooks around his hip. It allows him to bury himself deeper into your warmth. 

You meet him halfway, hooking your legs around his waist by your ankles so he doesn’t have to keep you there. Luke’s able to touch your stomach– able to press down on your skin with his large, flat palm until he can feel himself moving instead of you. The pressure increases the drag against your walls, which, in turn, only increasures your pleasure.

Your head falls back against the pillow, hands flush against Luke’s bicep and the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“They’re just not big enough to satisfy you,” Luke continues. He’s pouting a bit to embellish his point. “Only my cock is big enough to make you moan like this, to make you come as hard as you do.”

“Uh-huh,” you confirm mindlessly, pulling Luke in closer. He kisses you again, taking the sounds from your mouth and swallowing them. 

“Your friends don’t get it either,” Luke says. “You haven’t told them how good I make you feel? You don’t brag about the big cock that your tight pussy swallows every chance it gets?” The corners of his lips turn up and he pecks your mouth once more before pulling away as much as you’ll allow. “They don’t know how much you like that I’ve ruined you for anyone else?”

Of course you’ve bragged about Luke to your friends. Of course you’ve talked about your sex life during gossip sessions and girls nights. You don’t say anything, obviously, because his gloating is just as sexy as his precise actions are. 

“Do they know you like this?” Luke asks, forming a ball of spit and launching it at the place where your bodies meet. His saliva splatters across your folds and the impact feels gargantuan in this state.

You moan aloud, your hips rocking impatiently. You’re begging for more, ecstasy contorting your features. 

Luke spits again, then rubs the fluid into your clit with his thumb. Thrilling waves course up your spine and your reaction causes Luke to grin. Occasionally, his nail will catch your clit and cause you to jolt. 

Slowly, to prove a point, Luke draws himself out of you. He’s fucked you for long enough that you’re open and ready for him to shove back in– and he will. “Look,” Luke coos. “Look at my cock as it enters your cunt, baby. I want you to watch how well you take me.”

You pick up your head, eyes growing wild with desire. You find your core in your eyeline and Luke relishes in the way your pupils grow at the sight. He makes you wait just a second too long before–

Filling you in one thrust. Involuntarily, the breath is knocked from your lungs. Your chest heaves and your fingers tug at his curls, which makes Luke shiver. 

He does it again.

“This cunt was made to take my cock,” Luke reminds you. “Such a perfect fit. No wonder the other guys couldn’t satisfy you. They just couldn’t fill you like I can.”

“Never,” you say, nodding along with his words. “Fuck, Luke, more. Fill me more.”

He snuffles out a laugh. “You want my cum? Want me to come in this pretty pussy?”

You curse, clenching down on him. Luke returns to a consistent rhythm, pushing you closer to your peak. Once you come, he’ll give you what you want. He’ll fuck his cum into you, then he’ll watch it slide back out. 

Then, he might just keep it plugged inside of you. Even soft, his cock is the perfect thing to keep you full.

[ts4-poses]

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[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 The tag list is increasing! I'm crying 🤧. Again thank you so much for all the love. I've been sick in bed, all depressed cause I couldn't speak or sing (I'm a musical theater student) and reading your comments cheer me up ^^.

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 (You're here) , PART 15

In "Remedy to Cure All Ills"

Arthur pacing around in his chambers after Morgana fell sick and he encountered Edwin.

Arthur: (thinking, trying to convince himself) She's evil, she's going to become evil, it's okay if she dies. She's evil, she's going to become evil, she must die. She's evil, she's going to- (Shouts and throws a lamp againts a wall, furious with himself)¡AAARRGH!(sinks in a couch an covers his face, thinking miserably) Why can't I let her die? I watched her take her last breath before my eyes before, damn it! This shouldn't hurt this much.

Merlin: (enters) Arthur?

Arthur: (sighs and takes his hands out of his face, exhausted) Don't you know how to knock?

Merlin: (with a comforting smile) You know I never do that. (gets close and puts himself infront of Arthur, bending down to be at his height) She's going to be alright, Arthur. She's strong. You'll see.

Arthur: (smiles back, but it doesn't reach his eyes) A man came to the castle this morning. He claims he can cure her. (thinking) Of course he can, he was the one who did this to her.

Merlin: (thinking, wary) Edwin... (says) How could he? Not even Gaius knows what's wrong with her.

Arthur: He says he has a remedy to cure all ills.

Merlin: That doesn't exist. It's impossible.

Arthur: I know that! But what other option do we have? Morgana is dying and we are farther from close to find a cure! We don't lose anything by trying (thinking) And we gain everything by doing it. Once he cures her I can kill him.

Merlin: (puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, hesitantly, but relaxes when Arthur doesn't reject the touch) You really love her a lot, don't you?

Arthur: (with unshed tears) We grow up together. She's like a sister to me. I can't let her die. (Thinking) Even when she doesn't share the same sentiment. I just can't.

Merlin: Wait till tomorrow. If she doesn't get better, you can fetch the man.

Arthur: I'm the prince, Merlin. You can't tell me what to do.

Merlin: But?

Arthur: It's too late the fetch the man now. I'll wait till tomorrow.

Merlin: (smiles) Wise as always, my lord.

Arthur: (caresses the hand on his shoulder, lovinly) Thank you, Merlin.

Merlin: (blushes, nervous) 😳 I... I didn't do anything.

Arthur: You did. (Looks at Merlin's eyes intendly) Thank you. (They stare a each other, faces inches from the other).

Merlin: (snaps out of it and moves away) I-I need to go 😅 (smiles nervously and walks backwards) Eh... Physician apprentice things to do- (collides whit the table and some things fall and he picks them up quickly) Sorry!

Arthur: (laughs softly) Don't stay awake late. Rest.

Merlin: Right... you too. I'll be back to dress you in a minute, so don't sleep until I get back! 😅 (Leaves, thinking) 'Don't sleep until I get back'? Really? 😳😖🤦‍♂️

Arthur: (Sighs, thinking) Sleep. If only I could.

It's rare the times Arthur has a good night of sleep. Nightmares or rather memories of the time Merlin was a tree always assault his mind. Specially the time Merlin was turned before his eyes and he couldn't do anything about it, too weak from his wound, too useless. It's better now that Merlin sleeps in the antechambers. He just has to open the door and watch him sleep there peacefully, human and alive, and his heart is at easy again. Now with Morgana at death's door there's no way he's going to catch any sleep at all.

Arthur: (whispers to himself) I still have time. Tomorrow. Just wait until tomorrow.

Time skip. For everyone's surprise, Morgana wakes in the morning all cured, like she has never been ill in the first place.

Uther: (happy and relieved) Morgana! (Goes to her) This is truly a miracle. I thought... I really thought...

Morgana: (smiles) Oh, you won't get rid of me that easily.

Arthur: We certainly won't. (Just as realived and happy, puts hand on her shoulder, unconsciously) I'm glad you're alright, Gana.

Morgana: (surprised he's showing affection to her again, but touched) Gana... You haven't called me like that since we were kids.

Arthur: (realising he put a hand on her shoulder and puts it away) Right. Sorry, I know you don't like it.

Morgana: (messing with him) Oh, you can call me like that if you want. If you let me call you... Art? Arthie?

Arthur: Don't you dare! (He threatens but then they both laugh and look at each other fondly)

Gaius: I still need to make a few tests to see if she is really out of danger, but for what I can see, she'll be fully recovered in no time, sire.

Uther: Of course. Thank you, Gaius.

Gaius: I don't consider this was exactly my doing (looks at Merlin significantly and Merlin makes himself small in his place). But I'm glad to be of service as always, your majesty. I'll prepare some concoctions to prevent any outbrake just in case. (Makes a bow and it's about to leave, but then turns to Merlin sternly) Merlin?

Merlin: (sighs) Coming (bows quickly and leaves with him)

Uther: (frowns, thinking) Is it my idea or did he vow in the direction of Arthur alone?

Arthur: (who saw all the exchange between mentor and ward) I'll go to inform everyone the good news. Morgana, father (smiles politely makes a bow to both of them and leaves too)

Morgana: (sighs, a little sad, thinking) And cold Arthur is back.

Time skip. In Gaius Tower. Gaius scolding Merlin.

Gaius: You used magic on the king's ward?! What were you thinking?!

Merlin: I was thinking that I didn't want her to die! She's my friend and she's very dear to Arthur-

Gaius: Arthur, Arthur. Is what all this is about isn't it? I know he's the prince and you care for him. But let me remind you, he's still the prince of a kingdom that bans magic. Do you have any idea of what would have happened to you if someone discovered you? if someone have seen you?

Merlin: (explodes) Yes I know! Of course I know! Every time a wake up, every time I breathe, I know I could be killed at any moment. I watch every pyre that is made fearing maybe I could be next. I watch every friendly face, knowing that if they knew, if they only knew, they'll see me like a monster. I have to look at Uther, the man that would have me executed, the murderer of all my kind, and I have to serve him and smile at him trying to no throw up every day. So yes I perfectly fucking know, Gaius!

Gaius: ...

Merlin: (with teary eyes and his voice breaks) But I can't stop doing it, I can't separate myself from it. And I tried, believe me I tried, but I can't. Magic is part of me, is who I am. So I'll use it however I see fit, whenever I can, because no one knows the risks of using magic in a kingdom that forbids my very existence better than I do!

Silence...

Gaius: You're right. I don't understand it. I will never understand it. Magic was never to me what it is to you. I'm sorry I didn't see it before.

Merlin: It's alright. I know you only worry about me.

Gaius: It's more than that. (puts both of his hands on Merlin's shoulders) Merlin, in this short time I've known you, you've become like a son to me. I can't bare to lose you.

Merlin: (smiles) You won't lose me. I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you.

Gaius: Then for the sake of this old man, stop doing these things behind my back.

Merlin: Only of you promise to help me rather than forbid me of doing things. I still need guidance, I still need you.

Gaius: Alright (he hugs him close and then pulls away). Lets start with how you cured Lady Morgana. I don't recall giving you any healing magic classes.

Merlin: I didn't have to, I just had to call this little one out of her ear. (pulls out a beetle from his pocket) I think it was what was making her sick. Do you know what it is?

Gaius: (alarmed) Don't touch it! (picks a jar and opens it) Put it here. Now! (Merlin does it and Gaius closes the jar) It's an Elanthia Beetle. They can be enchanted to enter the brain, feed on it until they devour the person's very soul. Thank the gods you managed to pull it out.

Merlin: (who already knew all this, but still has to play ignorant) So Morgana was echanted? By who?

Gaius: There are many sorcerers who wish to cause harm to the crown, my boy. But, whoever it is, once they find out their plan failed, they are going to try again.

Time skip. Merlin leaves Gaius tower with Morgana's concoctions and almost jumps out of his skin, when he sees Arthur is there at the door.

Merlin: (scared, but trying to disimulate, closing the door behind him) Arthur! How long have you been there?

Arthur: (who heard the whole conversation, very affected) I... I just arrived.

Merlin: (relieved, but concerned for Arthur's state) Arthur, are you alright? What is it? (with growing panic) Are you ill? Did something happen to Lady Morgana? Arthur, answer me!

Arthur: (hugs Merlin suddenly)

Merlin: (too stuned to say anything) ...

Arthur: (Pulls Merlin closer to him, thinking) 10 years. You suffered my father's reign and then I made you still live in fear for 10 years.

Merlin: (red and still very concerned) Not that I'm not enjoying this gesture, sire. But, please, say something. I'm going to freak out.

Arthur: (pulls away gently) Nothing's wrong, Merlin. It just... seemed like you needed it.

Merlin: (confused) ... right. (Thinking) He must still be sensitive about Morgana. (coughs, trying to hide his red face) I have to... ehm... give Morgana her concoctions so...

Arthur: (playfully) Are you blushing?

Merlin: No.

Arthur: Your ears are red.

Merlin: They are not!😡

Arthur: Yes, they are. It's hard not to notice. They're as big as your face.

Merlin: Not as big as your fat ass!

Arthur: Have you been staring? 😏

Merlin: (even more red) I...😳 stop wasting my time, get out of my way!😡

Arthur: That's no way to talk to your prince, Merlin.

Merlin: Fine (with exaggerated courtesy). Your highness, my lord, sire, would you make me the enormous honor to remove your royal, pompous, supercilious presence out of my way?

Arthur: (laughs, but steps aside)

Merlin: Thank you, my lord. I'll be forever in debt with you. (Bows in mockery and leaves)

Arthur: (thinking, as he watches him leave) You chose to save Morgana with your magic this time. You shouldn't have risk it. But thank you. You won't have to suffer for so long this time. I'll create I world where you feel safe, you won't have to hide and be scared anymore. I promise.

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober- Day 5 (Size Difference)

Montgomery Gator x Male!reader

prequel fic

One would think you'd be afraid of Monty's massive frame and aggressive nature, but you never really felt in danger when he was around. That is probably why management made you his caretaker.

The other band members were concerned. Monty had a reputation for driving away his caretakers, the longest one lasting 3 days. You remember when Freddy pulled you aside and told you to come to him if Monty ever made you feel unsafe. You thanked him but said it wouldn't be needed.

Monty....tolerated your existence. You were quiet, small, reserved, and tidy. You also never got angry at him when he messed his room up. You opted to just get to cleaning as he watched you from his couch. That pretty much ensured that he wouldn't go out of his way to be mean to you. And after a while, Monty just naturally became attached to you. In his own "bad boy gator" way.

Did he mention how small you were? Because you were.

Even for an average male height, his frame was simply bigger. You don't know why the Pizzaplex designed all the animatronics that way. Your neck was starting to get sore from having to look up when talking to the band members

Monty found it funny. He tries as much as he can to be close to you. Pressing his larger body against yours and then making some comment about how he could squish you. You never stopped him, you liked the closeness.

So you probably should have seen this coming.

Monty maintained eye contact with you as he undid your belt buckle. Your spine tingled under his piercing red glare. Despite how he usually was, there was a gentleness to his movements. Like he didn't want to scare you off.

Monty watched in amusement as he pulled your pants down, revealing your cock as it pusled with anticipation. Despite havering an average-sized cock, compared to his monstrous member, it looked almost comical, like a child's toy next to a grown man's weapon.

Despite his initial amusement, he couldn't help but feel a stirring of protectiveness towards you. Seeing you stand defenseless before him, exposed and vulnerable, filled him with a strange sense of possessiveness.

Monty approached your exposed groin carefully, his massive form casting a shadow over yours. Even kneeling in front of you as you sat on his couch, he towered over you, dwarfing everything in sight.

Slowly, he extended his tongue, curving it around to form a perfect O shape. His hot breath fanned against your sensitive flesh, causing goosebumps to rise along your thighs.

Tentatively, he pressed his tongue against your cock, feeling its softness contrast sharply against his rough textured skin.

You let sharply intake air as you feel his surprisingly warm tongue lick your cock. Instinctively, you reach out to try and latch onto his mohawk for better leverage.

Monty wasn't having it.

He presses his large metallic hand to your chest and gently pushes your back onto the couch. Monty may like you, but he wants to be in control.

Monty continued to suckle on your cock, keeping a careful watch on your reactions. He loved seeing the way you moaned in pleasure, the tremors running through your body as he took more of you into his mouth. And despite the fear that sparked in your eyes whenever you saw those sharp teeth, he relished the opportunity to showcase just how capable he was in such intimate situations.

As if to tease you, his massive maw opened wide, revealing rows upon rows of sharp teeth that threatened to tear apart more than just his belongings. You tensed up knowing he was messing with you. With a sly smirk, he engulfed your cock completely, his hot breath fanning against your pelvis as he sucked greedily.

You felt yourself nearing climax. You gently squeeze his hand as a warning.

"M-Monty....." You manage to moan out softly.

At your warning moan, Monty paused briefly, his piercing red eyes locked onto yours as he waited eagerly for further instructions. However, instead of increasing his pace or going faster, he did the complete opposite—he slowly drew back until just the tip of your cock touched his lips before pushing forward again, taking your entire length to the hilt.

You let out a wail of ecstasy as you cum. Every single muscle in your body tensed up, desperate to hold itself together as you came and came again, coating Monty's tongue with your thick, salty seed.

Even as you shook from the force of your orgasm, Monty showed no signs of slowing down. Instead, he applied more pressure onto your chest with his hand, holding you down firmly in place as he suckled greedily at your spent cock. His powerful jaws flexed, milking every last drop of cum from you while he maintained eye contact.

Monty pulled back, releasing your cock from his warm, wet maw. You laid back on the couch, exhausted after your intense orgasm. Monty sat down beside you, wrapping his massive metal arm around your slender frame. Despite his size, he managed to position himself comfortably next to you without crushing you under his weight. You leaned into his warm embrace, nestling deeper into his chest as you listened to the soft gator bellowing he was making.

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

[shogunish]

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼𝘀 & 𝗶. [𝟬𝟮]

synopsis. satoru knows you're the closest thing to a mother megumi will ever have.

contents. reader battles with a kitchen stove (it was funnier in my head), a lil' bit of megs/reader bonding, soft and tired toru

words. 1.1k

note. pls lmk what you think bc i feel like my writing has gone 📉📉📉 but anyways, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML, THE APPLE OF MY EYE, MY GLORIOUS BLUE EYED KING 💕

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3

previous || next

as promised, you're watching over megumi for the day. he's a quiet and somewhat shy kid who doesn't talk too much, but you're certain the little guy will warm up to you once he sees you around more often. you can't blame him; after all, you're basically a stranger in his home who's suddenly spending time with him until he passes out and satoru comes back home from work. you'd be a little reserved as well if you were in his shoes.

“so megumi, what would you like for dinner?” you kneel down to megumi's height and flash him a kind smile, head tilted to the side and hair framing your face.

megumi regards you for a moment as if he doesn't really want to say what he wants, but the smile on your face, the warmth you exude is enough for him to speak up. if he already gets to choose, he better make it count. “..macaroni.” he says, a pout on his lips.

“macaroni it is, buddy.” ruffling megumi's hair, you're quick to move through the kitchen, finding the noodles, preparing two pots and filling one of them with the right amount of water. everything goes as planned until you're faced with that fancy kitchen stove that does absolutely not work like the one you own.

damn satoru and the salary he uses to buy expensive shit like this.

you know it's a touchscreen model, but whenever you do put your finger down and the thing beeps..nothing happens. the stovetop doesn't even turn red to indicate that it's on and so you put your finger down a couple more times only for nothing to happen.

a lump sits in the back of your throat, cold sweat coats the tip of your finger. your heart skips a beat. if you can't even figure out how to operate your newfound nemesis of a stove, megumi would go to bed hungry and satoru would definitely be severely disappointed in you!

you can't let the attractive single dad think you're useless.

you cannot let megumi starve.

stuck in your own panic, you fail to notice how megumi has watched your..conflict by peeking over the countertop. even his dogs give you a somewhat confused look as if they could sense your emotional distress over a stove of all things. the boy walks over, nudges himself between you and your self-proclaimed nemesis and brings his finger down on the touchscreen of the stove like he's never done anything else in his life.

beep. beep, beep.

apparently, it's that easy to get the water to cook.

dumbfounded, you stare at megumi, then at the stove and back at megumi. you have to look hilarious with your lips parted into an o-shape and your eyebrows almost shooting up to your hairline if megumi's little laugh is anything to go by. “..that's amazing..how did you–”

megumi shrugs his shoulders, his usual deadpan expression back on his face. “i always watch dad when he cooks. it's not..that hard.”

you groan out loud, but a little chuckle laces into the sound. “..i'm too old for this stuff.” with pouted lips, you let megumi explain how to increase and decrease the heat, how to turn the stove off and on. it really is a lot easier than you initially believed.

when satoru finally comes home, the skies are already darkening. hues of dark blue and a hint of purple are slathered across the vast canvas, birds roaming through the air and seemingly returning home to their nests or whatever place they consider home for the night. for a moment, the bustling life of the city ceases to exist – at least until satoru would have to leave for work again.

no emails, no phone calls, no meetings.

clad in suit and tie, buttons opened and tie loosened, a sigh of relief sneaks past his pale lips when the warmth of his apartment welcomes him home. a place which was usually silent, almost void of any life since megumi would be in bed by now. but now, the scent of food lingers in the air, soft snores echo from the living room down the hallway and the tv dimly illuminates the cozy space. driven by curiosity and a grumbling stomach, satoru finds a plate of macaroni on the dining table. in front of it, a note is placed.

“i figured you might be hungry after work. all you have to do is warm it up :]”

cerulean eyes soften behind pitch black shades as they skim over the carefully written note and the silly smiley you drew at the end. you didn't have to do this. satoru could take care of himself, he's been doing it for as long as he can remember, but..in a way, it's nice to be thought of, cared for, even in such small ways you probably didn't put much thought into.

he likes it. likely, a lot more than he should.

satoru trudges over to the sofa in the living room, wanting to thank you for the food, but when he sees you passed out on the cushion, megumi cuddled up to your chest and the two dogs snoring at your feet, the ghost of a smile dances on his lips. you look absolutely exhausted, a bit of drool leaking from the corner of your lips and red crayon smeared on your cheek, but it kind of looks cute on you, satoru thinks.

the sound of disney's bambi on the tv is nothing but white noise as satoru's gaze shifts towards his son, his little bundle of joy. the boy who never had a mother appears so content with his little arms clutching his favorite plushie and his little face buried in the warmth of your chest, snoring just as loudly as the dogs. the kid is beat, just like you.

satoru has to shake his head. ever since megumi was born, satoru wanted nothing more than for him to experience the love of a mother. someone who would offer him unconditional love, attention, would care for him and his happiness in ways that only a mother can, but you are not his mother. you never will be.

in the end, you're still the cute neighbor next door who offered to lend him a hand out of pity and not someone who could act as megumi's mother.

and yet, satoru knows he made the right choice by accepting your help.

this is the closest thing megumi will ever have to a mother.

a sigh, heavy enough to be conflicted but quiet enough to drown into the late hours, slips past satoru's lips. with quiet steps, he fetches a blanket from his bedroom and tosses the soft fabric over megumi's and your sleeping form.

"thank you." he breathes out, voice barely above a whisper.

taglist. @torusmochi, @ayanominitrash, @erigaur

[literaryvein-reblogs]

what to do if there's too much dialogue in my story? how do i fix the 'not enough action'?

also what if my story's too short? it's supposed to be a novel

How Long Should a Novel Be? If you’re writing your first novel, the general rule of thumb for novel writing is a word count in the 80,000 to 100,000 range.

While anything over 40,000 words can fall into the novel category, 50,000 is considered the minimum novel length.

Anything over 110,000 words is considered too long for a fiction novel.

Each book in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy has an enormous word count, with the longest clocking in at over 175,000 words.

Despite their ongoing success, those epic sagas are the rare exception to general word count rules.

Typically, you’ll want your novel to be much shorter.

Within the world of literary fiction, different genres follow more specific word count targets:

Thriller: A good suspense story has to keep the plot moving to keep the reader engaged. The ideal count for a mystery is a 70,000 and 90,000 word novel.

Science fiction and fantasy: Sci-fi novels are an art in world-building. The need to invent a completely new environment makes this genre longer than others. A fantasy novel will usually have 90,000 to 120,000 words.

Romance novels: Not every love story is an epic like Wuthering Heights. Romantic plots now tend to be fun, fast reads. Some are as short as 50,000 words—the perfect book for a beach vacation. The high-end romance novel word count is 100,000.

Historical fiction: Fleshing out an imagined historical world lends itself to a higher word count, so historical fiction tends to be closer to 100,000 words.

Non-fiction: There is no definitive word count guide for non-fiction books due to the many subgenres. If you’re writing a non-fiction book, be sure to look up that category to find the length of similar books. For example, memoirs are generally 80,000 to 90,00 words.

Reasons Word Count Is Important in Writing. While there are no hard and fast rules on the amount of words a book needs, there are highly-suggested guidelines in the traditional publishing industry, especially for first time authors.

Unless you’re self-publishing, you’ll need to pay attention to how many words you use to compose your first draft. Here are 3 reasons why word count is important:

Shorter novels are more marketable. A literary agent and traditional publisher are less likely to take a chance on long novels when they come from a new writer. An adult fiction book is most marketable in the suggested word count.

Longer novels are more expensive to print. Longer books increase the number of pages that need to be printed. That makes them more expensive to print and a bigger investment.

Audiences expect a certain word count. Audiences are used to a certain story length and page count, so an unknown author can attract more readers by staying in the expected range.

Too Much Dialogue. Some stories rely heavily on dialogue. Others have very little. Most strike a balance somewhere in between.

To determine what's right for your own story, consider the effect so much dialogue has on the reader's experience.

What atmosphere does it create?

How does it impact the reader's understanding of the characters or the situation?

Keep in mind the role of dialogue and its limitations.

Some dialogue-heavy fictions fail because the dialogue is used carelessly.

Make sure you're not cramming information into dialogue when it might be more appropriate in narrative.

Also, be thoughtful when considering what to include in an exchange.

Crafting a scene is all about selectivity and you should include only what's important.

Example: Post-work chitchat might be commonplace in real life, but it's not terribly exciting in fiction. If the heart of the scene is to reveal a character's insecurities about the drive, we don't need fluff taking up space.

Since there's no set formula for how much dialogue you can use, keep an eye out for these common pitfalls and consider the effect of a dialogue-heavy read in the context of your work.

This should help you figure out if you've used too much or just the right amount.

Is it possible to use too much dialogue?

Here's one answer: No, a story can't have too much dialogue. Plenty of stories, including many by Ernest Hemingway and Raymond Carver, rely heavily on dialogue.

Of course, the opposite answer is true, too: Yes, it's possible to use too much dialogue. If the dialogue is unnecessary, it's “too much." That might happen in a story packed full of dialogue or one that has only a few lines of it. Exchanges should move the story forward and reveal something significant.

Relying on dialogue may be a stylistic choice, but an exchange shouldn't be an indiscriminate volley of words. It should have purpose.

More strategies for improving the dialogue in your own work:

Mix dialogue with narration. Long runs of dialogue can dislodge a reader from the action of a scene. As your characters talk, interpolate some descriptions of their physical postures or other activity taking place in the room. This mimics the real-world experience of listening to someone speaking while simultaneously taking in visual and olfactory stimuli.

Give your main character a secret. Sometimes a line of dialogue is most notable for what it withholds. Even if your audience doesn’t realize it, you can build dynamic three-dimensionality by having your character withhold a key bit of information from their speech. For instance, you may draft a scene in which a museum curator speaks to an artist about how she wants her work displayed—but what the curator isn’t saying out loud is that she’s in love with the artist. You can use that secret to embed layers of tension into the character’s spoken phrases.

Look to great examples of dialogue for inspiration. If you're looking for a dialogue example in the realm of novels or short stories, consider reading the great books written by Mark Twain, Judy Blume, or Toni Morrison. Within the world of screenwriting, Aaron Sorkin is renowned for his use of dialogue.

Tips for "not enough action"

Create visuals. Use action in a concise, impactful manner in order to deliver strong images for the audience. The clearer your scenes are, the more easily the audience can understand and absorb them. You don’t want readers or viewers to be hung up on seemingly impossible details or sequences that don’t flow. Visuals that get right to the point and can be quickly understood are best for conveying action.

Technical writing style. Whether you’re writing descriptive paragraphs in a novel or stage directions in a script or screenplay, you must be able to articulate the scene you envision in your head without wearing down your reader with technical drivel. Balancing specific details of your action sequences with a propulsive story isn’t easy to do. Sometimes a great action sequence doesn’t come together in a first draft, so focus your revisions on clarifying each action and providing vivid detail without besieging your reader with dull technical terms.

Striking a balance. There are no hard-and-fast rules about when and when not to blend dialogue, action, and narrative. To weave them together well is to find your story's rhythm. But there are a few questions you can ask yourself about your story, especially in the rewrite stage, that can help you know which elements are most effective for a particular scene, and which might be better used elsewhere.

Ask yourself:

Is the story moving a little too slowly, and do I need to speed things up? (Use dialogue.)

Is it time to give the reader some background on the characters so they're more sympathetic? (Use narrative, dialogue, or a combination of the two.)

Do I have too many dialogue scenes in a row? (Use action or narrative.)

Are my characters constantly confiding in others about things they should only be pondering in their minds? (Use narrative.)

Likewise, are my characters alone in their heads when my characters in conversation would be more effective and lively? (Use dialogue.)

Is my story top-heavy in any way at all—too much dialogue, too much narrative, or too much action? (Insert more of the elements that are missing.)

Are my characters providing too many background details as they're talking to each other? (Use narrative.)

Whether we're using dialogue, action, or narrative to move the story forward, any or all 3 of these elements are doing double duty by revealing our characters' motives.

Your story's dialogue can reveal motive in a way that's natural and authentic because whether we're aware of it or not, we reveal our own motives all the time in our everyday lives.

And to understand a character's motive is to understand the character.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

More Tips & References on Dialogue

On Narrative Pacing

Hope this helps with your writing!

[witch-hazels-musings]

i'd know the difference

warning -> none, sfw, fluff <3 | happy birthday Diluc

diluc x gn reader | Anthology

His back was tired. Tense muscles ignited by the sunlight pouring through the window. Diluc rolled his shoulder, dug his fingers into his trapezius muscle, and squinted at the sharp pain that ran down his arm.

The forms on his desk hardly dwindled since this morning. He swore they multiplied each time he placed one neatly into an envelope and pressed his seal into the ruby wax.

A knock at his study drew his gaze. "Sir, Diluc, the barrels are ready for inspection." A muffled voice slipped under the doorframe, their movements silenced by the heavy wood.

"I will be there momentarily," Diluc responded as his father's fountain pen glided across the final page of a contract. Another seller from Inazuma. Requests from the sealed-away nation had increased substantially after the Raiden Shogun opened trade routes. While it meant the Winery was bound to see a profitable quarter, he was bound to see many more sleepless nights.

Diluc filed the contract away into a water-sealed container and dropped it into a small, wooden box meant for outgoing correspondence. Three other letters softened the container's fall. He hadn't even made it halfway through.

---

The halls of the Winery were filled with still light, the decorated walls made everything compact but he had grown used to the opulent clutter. As a child, he spent many hours staring at the picture frames. Distant lands he hoped one day to traverse; he did and found that each depiction served little justice to the actual thing. The ornate rug muffled his steps and he moved swiftly toward the stairs. He fussed with his vest until something soft grazed his arm.

A fresh bouquet of flowers was placed on a tall, rounded table near the balcony overlooking the lower floor. A rich, sweet, earthy aroma filled his nose. Shades of royal blue, amber, and honey mixed with lush green. He rubbed a petal with his thumb and index finger, the satin texture unaffected by the roughness of his hand.

The corner of his lips lifted.

---

"There you are," Diluc said from the garden's edge. He had a feeling you'd be out here. Hard at work preparing beautiful arrangements you'd later place in the Winery. If he wasn't careful, he'd be trapped here forever watching you weave through the swaying flowers. He thought to ask a painter to capture the scene, but, in the end, he decided against it - there were some things he preferred to keep to himself.

"Morning," you called out, rising from the flower bed. With the back of your hand, you pushed up your sun hat.

The metal click of the gate rang out as Diluc made his way into the garden, narrow paths made it difficult for him to see where his feet landed while you moved through them with practiced grace. "How long have you been out here?" he asked.

"About as long as you've been cooped up in your study. I figured once you'd ultimately emerged, you'd appreciate being greeted by something lovely," you explained as you shooed a bug away from the ends of his hair.

"So why were you not waiting for me then?" he asked, teasingly, but in his heart he was serious. Your face was the thing he enjoyed most.

You shook your head and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "I'll remember that for next time." With ease, you turned down the path and made your way to a sun-bleached table holding several bundles of partially trimmed flowers. He followed after you.

Diluc watched you work. Skilled fingers stripping the stems of their leaves, the soft clipping of prunes as you, one by one, measured the height of each flower. He moved in, drawn to you like the bees to the flowers.

"You smell divine," he professed and reached to steal your hat so he could kiss your head. The sun clung to every strand of your hair and warmed his desperate lips.

"Are you sure it's not just the flowers?" you asked, chuckling softly, your hands busy with bundling a fresh bouquet.

"I'm sure." Diluc stepped closer to you, his chest pressing against your back, his fingers trailing down your arm and fixing the shawl that had fallen off while you worked. He kissed the space below your ear and breathed you in. "I'd know the difference anywhere."

You turned just enough to look into his eyes and the sight of your face made his heart beat wildly. He shielded you with your hat and, with a gentle hand he cupped your throat, his thumb held your chin so he could keep you still and let his lips linger against your own until he was satisfied.

Even in a field of flowers, none of them compared to you - none could ever compare to his favorite.

[galedekarios]

gale, waterdeep & coinage

just musings on gale's means as well as waterdeep lore bc i love waterdeep:

Gale: Believe it or not, but I witnessed a similar standoff back at the Yawning Portal. Of course, an establishment like that invites all sorts of outlandish entertainments. Player: What's the Yawning Portal Gale: An inn in Waterdeep. Never a dull moment there. Adventurers come from all over Faerûn to try their luck down the well: Leads into the Undermountain, you see - full of death, danger, and vast amounts of treasure. Hard to resist. Player: What was the standoff about? Gale: Oh, a drow, a dragonborn, and a cleric of Cyric walk into a bar. Your standard fare. Maybe someone was cheating at cards, maybe it was some weird lovers' quarrel. In any case, out came the crossbow, and a hush fell over the entire room.devnote Player: What happened next? Gale: I stood up and yelled: 'Shadowdark ale for everyone!' The crowd cheered, the tension drained into five dozen tankards, and soon all was well again. Gale: In a place like the Yawning Portal, the most powerful magic is calling for a round of drinks. Gale: Mind you, all I did was call for ale, but you went and stood in front of that crossbow. I'd drink to that.

i will definitely take a look at the yawning portal itself at a later date (as well as other points of interest within the city) bc it's very interesting as a focal point in waterdhavian history and society.

while we can only speculate about what gale's background in terms of means, wealth and standing looked like since things like tutors and even maids were not uncommon in waterdhavian society, it is interesting to note that he - whatever his personal means at the time this event took place - felt the need to defuse the brewing fight with 'five dozen tankards'.

we do actually know how much one such tankard costs at the yawning portal:

[source]

17cp x 60 = 1020cp

this was interesting to me in terms of this meant in actual terms of coinage and wealth and money spent.

here's an overview of waterdeep's various coins:

source: volo's waterdeep enchiridion

gale spent over a 1000 nibs/copper pieces that evening (or more than one sun/platinum coin) to de-escalate a potentially lethal fight.

to put that into perspective, i'm adding this reference of prices here:

source: volo's waterdeep enchiridion

gale also attended blackstaff academy, with elminster as his mentor. the academy had costs attached with it:

Acceptance to the Academy was predicated on either demonstrating extraordinary magical aptitude (those who could not cast arcane spells were very rarely admitted) or having a particularly compelling personal history. Joining the Academy was free, however monthly dues were required to continue attendance. These fees started at 10 gp per month and increased as a student gained seniority and required more advanced tutelage. In addition, it was a requirement that any new spell that was discovered or researched by an apprentice had to be added to Blackstaff Tower's library. [source]

ten gold pieces per month as fees, although with gale being elminster's mentee, he may have chosen to assist gale and morena partially or fully with any costs that blackstaff academy may have charged.

it does sound, however his childhood may have looked like with a presumably absent father and a mother with her hands full with a young genius, able to conjure rabbits as a babe, summoning a tressym, a magma mephit who set a room on fire, as well as casting a level 3 spell (fireball) at age 8 or younger, that gale at least during the height of his career as a wizard, lived comfortably.

ending this with more food for thought and a banter between gale and karlach:

Gale: They say wealth offers a form of magic. Alas, it's one I've rarely dabbled in. Karlach: Nor I. Never had more than a few coppers in the city, and any soul coins in Avernus went straight to Zariel. Gale: Make no mistake. Souls are sold for coins up here as well. All too cheaply, in most cases.

[zerokurokawa]

Hanma falling inlove with a girl who beat him up at first meeting because he messed with her brother lmao then after a while they become friends because he doesn’t stop bothering her. He throws rocks at her window and loudly sings for her and stuff lol. And reader being more of herself around him (she’s actually really sweet but just don’t mess with her people lmao).. maybe a little bit of nsfw? Thank u in advance 🫶🏼

Falling For You | Hanma x Reader (Slight NSFW, MDNI) <3

Getting beat up by a girl was not on Hanma's agenda when it came to fighting and being one of the top delinquents of his time, however, when you found out that he had messed with your younger brother, you took matters into your own hands. You beat the total shit out of him with one kick, knocking his tall self to the ground and leaving him to practically drown in a puddle during the pouring rain. 

You had caught him off guard in the back of an alleyway and confronted him about picking fights with your younger brother who was in Toman at the time. With you beating him to the ground, you'd expect him to stay away, right? You were wrong. Hanma then became intrigued by you and wouldn't leave you alone after that. 

He would catch you out and about, offering to buy you things such as food or even steal you jewelry from the local shops. He'd follow you home and make it seem as if you were the one that needed protection. After a while of him doing this, you decided you kind of liked his presence and kept him around. After all, you were getting something out of it. 

Once you began to notice his weird antics and the way he would subconsciously flirt with you, you began to flirt back, teasing him about his height and build and would always joke about how easy it was to of taken him down, especially since you were a girl, after all. 

You had grown fond of him, wanting him around more often and even calling him a few times just to hangout. This only brought his interest back towards you even further as he began to increase his obsession with you. 

___________________________________________________________________________

It wasn't long before you started hearing him play music and sing really loudly outside of your window at night, begging you to come outside and take a ride on his bike. He would even throw pebbles on some nights or call you back to back just to get your attention. Eventually, you gave in and went on that bike ride that led you further into his grasp. 

One night, he took you back to his apartment and you were cozied up to him, lying on the couch while a movie played in the background. He moved slightly, looking down at you seemingly wanting to do something more than just cuddle on the couch. 

"What? What are you staring at?" You asked, while he was staring into your eyes, 

"I just thought maybe we could... have a little fun." He smirked. 

"Fun how?" You smirked back, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Before you knew it, he had you pinned to the couch, tugging at your clothes, and kissing all of your sweet spots. 

"You know what I mean," He started, "I want you, and I know you want me too." 

You giggled as he began to tease you, tickling you and touching all of your turn on spots. You knew what he was after, and you were going to let him. One thing led to another and both of you had ended up half naked, lying on the couch, in each other's arms. 

"I need to confess something... before we go any further." He said, beginning to unbuckle his belt. 

"And what is what?" You asked, shifting yourself underneath him. 

"I think... I know... I'm falling for you." He smirked, leaning down to give you a very long, passionate kiss. You broke away from the kiss, breathless, as you thought to yourself about how this might be wrong. You were fraternizing with someone who was against everything you stood for. You were meant to hate him due to what he did to your brother, but here you were, in his arms and down to your underwear. 

"I think I'm falling for you too... Shuji." You said with a slight hesitant tone to your voice. You knew what would happen if the others found out. You knew they would be upset and you knew for a fact that your brother would never approve. But, before you knew it, he was all over you and you were all over him. Something about it felt wrong but at the same time, it felt right. You wanted him and there was no turning back now. 

You had fallen for the enemy. 

(A/N: I hope you like it, all the love to you <3)

[justcallmecj]

Seeing Your Dragon Form: Dormleaders

Heyyyy~ Back with another chapter! Here, this is when they saw your full dragon form for the first time. Now, this chapter is a bit special. It'll be separated into 3 or 4 parts. One for the Dormleaders, one for the vice's + Ruggie and Floyd, another for the first years and a last one for anyone left. I'm also thinking about one for the teachers + Crowley. This one is the Dormleaders. You can take this as romantic or platonic, your choice.

Also, I'm gonna describe what you look like in Riddle's section so I don't have to in others. Just refer back to his section for imagery.

Riddle

He was certainly shocked, that's for sure.

He's only seen dragons in drawings or in the media, and even then they were mostly the mainstream kind of dragons. Ice isn't the first thing people think of when they think of dragons,

You had taken him to a small clearing of trees in the forest behind NRC since there was plenty of space where you didn't need to worry about hurting someone.

You towered over him, and he himself is pretty short so it made the difference even greater.

The usual cold air that followed you had increased in temperature, making it harder for him to be close to you.

Your horns became larger and sharper, like huge icicles. Spikes ran down your back just as sharp as your horns. Your tail swayed behind you and your eyes gleamed a dangerous e/c color.

Despite all this, you showed no signs of being hostile towards him. When he looked into your eyes, he saw a playful glint in them. Like you were studying his reactions and getting a kick out of it all.

He quickly put himself together after the initial shock.

You brought yourself down to his height and placed your head peacefully on the grass in front of him. He slowly made his way closer to you.

Gently, he placed a hand on your head. Despite the cold feeling, it didn't hurt. He sat next to your head and found himself quickly easing into a sense of safety and security. You laid your wings around him, enclosing the space and basically trapping him, but he didn't mind.

You made gentle, humming noises and he found the shaking feeling began to make him sleepy. He no longer was shocked about how you look like this and the drowsiness of his daily activities caught up to him. He curled up in the crook of your long neck.

"Thank you, for trusting me with this sight. I know how you feel, but you don't need to worry around me. Have a good nap, Y/N. I'm not to far behind you anyways."

Leona

You truly are an oversized lizard, huh?

He did whatever he could to keep the shock off his face, and it worked. You would've believed him, if you hadn't known him so well.

He didn't realize, but his tail stayed close to the grass, his ears twitch in your direction. More than a few of his muscles tensed.

He wasn't scared, just weary. He's always wondered what would happen if Malleus got pissed off at him enough to turn dragon mode. Now he just associates the thought with a sense of danger.

You could pick up on this though. You've always had a strange ability to do that when it comes to Leona. Your next goal? Be as non-threatening as possible.

Your tail gently curled around your hind leg, you sprawled your wings out in the grass around you and you brought your body close to the ground.

When he looked at you, he could clearly see the message you were trying to tell him. He understands you can't talk in this form.

He approached you. His muscles loosened when he touch your snout and your eyes closed, showing contentment.

Gently, he ran his hand up and down your scales. The skin on his hands pricked from the cold, a feeling he still wasn't used to.

His ears picked up on the faint hum you made. A smirk found its way on his face, and he didn't try to hide it.

He spent a bit of time petting you. He saw it as revenge for all the times you pet him with no warning. But, much to his demise, you didn't see it as anything spiteful. You quite enjoyed the attention.

"Hm. Fine. I'll stay with you for a while. But that's only because Ruggie won't come get me if I'm with you while you're like this."

Azul

He was...hesitant..to say the least.

He was nervous to see what you'd turn into. That's not meant to sound mean or judgemental, he wouldn't judge you. You don't judge him, why would he in turn?

More so, it's just that he doesn't know how he himself will react and doesn't want to hurt you with a negative reaction.

He knew you were nervous about yourself for a long time. But, you decided that if he saw you comfortable with yourself, he'd become a bit more confident as well.

It took a lot of convincing from you to lead him into the forest clearing. Even more for the Twins not to follow.

Once you two were there and he backed up to give you space, seeing you transform was the most stunning things he's ever seen.

A white mist covered you and a dark shadow on the inside(you) grew and changed shape. Into the shape of a dragon. When the mist cleared, he saw you.

Your e/c colors stared him down. You did what you could not to freak him out, but you didn't have full control of every habit of yours.

He could feel a few flight reflexes kick in. He stayed in place though. (You praised him for that later)

You sat. You kinda reminded him of a dog with the way you sat and waited patiently. Your tail rested motionless, wings calmly at your sides. Your head tilted to the side. To Azul, it was kinda cute. Like looking at a sea guppy.

He stepped closer, but kept a slight distance. You weren't offended, you knew you needed to take things slow. And you knew he was more worried about you than himself.

In an attempt to show him that there was nothing to worry about, you stretched out one of your arms, careful to watch your claws, and held it in front of him. Like how a human reaches out a hand to a scared animal. (Ironic since he was more human than you rn)

He got the message. He approached you and placed a gentle hand on your arm. The cold was somehow a comfort. It sorta reminded him of the cold waters in the Coral Sea. Slowly, he leaned into your touch and found himself calm. All worry faded away and you came close to him and gave whatever your equivalent of a smile is. It warmed his heart.

"I see. I hope none of my actions hurt you. You were very brave to show me all this. I hope one day, I can be like you with myself."

Kalim

He was certainly the most excited to see your dragon form.

He's never seen a dragon before, and The Land Of Scalding Sands doesn't have any legends or stories regarding dragons, so it's been an obscure concept to him.

He, without hesitance, followed you to the clearing in the forest and patiently waited for you to feel you were ready.

He held his breath as you transformed and only released it when he saw you were okay.

The dragon he saw standing in front of him. Blew. His. Mind!

Even before you could entirely orientate yourself he quickly threw himself onto you and wrapped his arms around your long neck, which was barely close enough to the ground for him to reach. (Especially since he's short)

He talked to you about everything and anything for 2 hours straight. He didn't mind that you couldn't verbally respond, it actually gave him enough time to learn what different ques you made meant. You nodded and shook your head for yes or no questions, you flopped your tail when you meant 'maybe', and your wings flutter lightly when you don't know how to respond.

He even learned what the meaning behind certain sounds meant.

"Sorta wish I had seen your dragon form earlier, but better later than never! Right?...I wonder what Jamil's doing right now?" Cue to Jamil who's freaking out because Kalim didn't tell him he was leaving the dorm.

Vil

He had come to know you pretty well. Despite that, he realized that he never actually asked you anything about your dragon form.

He's definitely thought about it, but never wanted to ask you for fear of making you uncomfortable.

When you told him you really wanted to, he worried that you may have been forcing yourself for him. You quickly reassured him that that wasn't the case. He then agreed to come with.

Seeing you morph was beautiful to him.

You were beautiful.

Your beautiful white scales tinted blue when the sun hit them at a certain angle. Your horns glistened with an icy nature, your eyes shone with a slight glaze of white over them. (Rook explained to him how this protects your eyes from the sun)

All he saw was pure, icy beauty. In a way, he couldn't comprehend why you've been self-conscious about how this form looked. Then he remembered how he gets when people comment negatively about how he looks, and how it can take a toll after so long.

He came to a resolve. To make sure you never again see anything negative about your dragon form!

With quick, confident strides, he approached you. Looking up to meet your eyes, he gave you a sweet, caring face.

He then began to fawn over you. His usual uptight behavior fell to allow his more caring side to take hold so that he could make sure you knew just how beautiful you looked. He commented on how well you seem to take care of yourself, your huge size meaning there was more to admire. Your horns looked like you took gentle care of them. Your snout looked adorable to him. The spikes running down your back, were sharp to the touch.

Those are all examples of how he expressed that he saw and took notice of all your beauty.

He sat on the grass in front of you and allowed you to place you snout in his lap as he gently rubbed your head while whispering sweet compliments to you.

"I hope that, never again, do you see anything wrong with your own beauty. And if anyone tells you other wise, just send them my way."

Idia

You want him to leave his room??? Whyyyyy?

He always thought seeing you in your dragon form would be the coolest thing ever. But he didn't think he'd be dragged out of his room by you and forced into the forest.

We couldn't have just done this somewhere at Ignihyde?

Then you transformed, and he no longer remembered why he was upset.

The fantasy loving weeb in him came out and he started to freak out.

He had a split second of hesitation, ice and fire don't mix and he could feel the ice on you, but his weeb took over and he rushed over. He was no longer shy with you.

His mind was going a million miles and hour and he asked you question after question. Until he realized that you couldn't talk. Which honestly bummed him out a bit but he quickly recovered.

Soon, he took to simply admiring you while you soaked up the attention he was giving you.

His warm fingers lightly slid across your cold scales, sending a shiver up his spine every time, but he didn't mind.

It shocked him when you reached out an arm and pulled him close to you. You held him against your side while you curled up like a puppy.

"Um, okay then. I guess we can stay like this for a bit. But, I do still have some games I need to play later, so not all day, okay?"

Malleus

You had zero problems with him. It actually went the smoothest with him.

When you two were having a conversation a while back, he had questioned if you had a dragon form like he did. You had explained to him that you did but you were to shy to show anyone. He had asked why and you told him that after so long of people bad mouthing you about how you look in fae form, you became hesitant for anyone to see you as a dragon.

He talked about his form in an attempt to help you feel comfortable. He also told you that you'd never need to be scared with him because he's just like you. That made it easier for you to get where you are now. Finally ready to show.

You took him to the clearing and asked him to back away so you wouldn't hit him.

The way you transformed was different from his. He created a puff of smoke around him, you made a mist of ice.

Once the mist faded, he quickly took in every detail about you. How sharper your horns are compared to his, your serrated claws. The white and blue tint of your scales while his a black with purple tints. (Well, that's what Lilia has told him.)

He immediately took to feeling your scales and tough skin, wings and tail. You didn't mind, not like you had a lot of feeling in those areas. He's a dragon to, so he knew exactly where he needed to avoid.

You were a lot more different from him than he was expecting. His scales were rough while yours were smooth. Your horns sharp, his rounded. Your wings were more angular and his were longer.

He didn't mean to get as analytical as he did, he was just really curious. After realizing how he was acting he took to talking to you. Unlike others, he could understand majority of your draconic growls and rumbling. You could actually hold a proper conversation with him.

Eventually, you began to get tired. Your eye lids drooped and you struggled to keep your head up. He saw this and told you it was fine to fall asleep.

He actually turned into his own dragon form and curled up next to you, intertwining your tails. Together, you both fell asleep there on the grass.

"I never thought that I would meet someone so like me, even if we are different. Thank you, Child of Dragons, for coming into my life."

[waterfallofspace]

Allergic To Concepts

Is anyone else still into the M/agnus Archives? Maybe, maybe not, but I have had this fic sitting in my google docs for months, and I just finally managed to get myself to finish up the last bit, so here is part one of a possible two part fic, if I can ever manage to get myself to write the next part!

So, if anyone wants, please enjoy a little Allergic to concepts Jon. aka, Jon is so allergic to dogs that just the idea of them gets him a bit worked up~

I'll never be over this podcast, and I might start sharing small (tiny) drabbles of these guys if anyone would be interested <3 or even just to start coaxing myself back into writing~

Characters: Jon, Martin, Tim, and Sasha Word Count: 2.7k

“-so to conclude, we absolutely, most certainly, cannot do that,” Martin finishes, hands woven into his hair. Seems to happen more often nowadays; getting a job you’re not exactly qualified for tends to bring on a touch of added stress. What brings even more stress, however, are the faces staring back at him, twin smiles painted across worryingly calm canvases. Seems once a poet, always a poet, even in your own thoughts. 

Tim chuckles, mischief running through his eyes. “How do you even know that? You been stalking our new boss?” 

“W-well no, it’s just that…” Martin starts, beginning to study the floor as his rambling starts to take over. “Well there may have been an… incident, of- of sorts, with a uh… well it was, I was trying to open this door, but see I was holding files, and there was this dog, and they kinda just- well I was trying to stop it but it got in and- so I went to Jon’s office and he was just kinda… and then I-” 

“So what?” Tim interrupts, mercifully saving Martin from his own tongue. “Why should his issues stop us from havin’ a good time?” With a snap of his fingers, Tim casts Sasha a devious wink. The colour seems to drain from Martin’s face as he holds up a shaking finger, aiming somewhere behind Tim’s shoulders. 

“Ah, speak of the devil,” Sasha mutters, her smile never wavering. 

Spinning on his heel, Tim turns to greet the newest arrival to the hallway. “Fancy seeing you here, boss! Burning the midday oil?” 

Jon pauses, papers nearly spilling from his crowded arms as he fumbles with some keys. “That’s not an expression. And what are you all doing cramped in the hall? Don’t any of you have work to do?” 

Martin nearly keels over as Jon’s glare settles against him, seemingly deeming him responsible for this lapse in progress. As if! In fact, he’d been the one begging them to get back to work. Honestly, Jon should appreciate the fact that he talked them out of-

“Actually, we’re thinking of heading off for the day,” Tim cuts in, leaving Martin’s mouth nearly hanging open. Had they not just gone over why this was a horrible idea? As if to answer his unspoken question, Sasha joins in with support for Tim’s cause. Martin’s pretty sure there’s actually a gap between his lips. 

Jon, having opened the office by this point, merely stops and stares. Seconds pass, though it feels more like minutes. There appears to be some sort of staring match between the three of them. 

Finally Jon breaks the silence with a short… well, it’s hard to call it a laugh, more like a huff. His posture tightens as he attempts to pull himself to his full height, casting Tim a wary glance. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Quite serious in fact! See, me and Sasha have been thinking,” Tim pauses, gesturing to the aforementioned with a sickly sweet smile. Merely performance charm, which given the eye-roll she shoots back, Sasha’s well aware of. “All of us here need a chance to bond.” 

“Bond, you say,” Jon’s monotone voice offers no insight to how he’s taking this suggestion. As Martin’s mouth begins to dry, his hands start working their way back into his hair. 

“Indeed!” Tim continues, seemingly oblivious to Martin’s rapidly increasing heart rate. “We’ve all been stuck here together, figured we should become more of a team, you know? A team-building exercise you could call it. Something to get us more on the same page.” 

“And what is this ‘team-building exercise’ you have in mind?” 

Well, his heart may have been racing before, but it’s not anymore. In fact, he’s almost entirely convinced it’s just stopped completely. Jon’s eyes meet his own, and Martin drops his gaze fast enough to leave him dizzy. 

This time Sasha speaks up, her coy tone doing nothing to alleviate the heart attack symptoms Martin’s now convinced he’s feeling. “An animal rescue cafe. They rescue dogs and cats, the ones that need rehoming, and bring them there so you can get to know them before you adopt. One opened just down the street from here, and me and Tim have been looking into going. We figured, might as well drag you and Martin along with us.” 

Jon’s glare narrows further, a single hand coming up to rest between his eyes. The movement is completed by pushing up his glasses with a sigh. “And how exactly does drinking tea in a room full of animals qualify as team building?” 

“You can tell a lot about a person from the way they treat animals,” Tim offers. “Not to mention the fact that there’s a whole study about how psychopaths are more likely to hate cats, which is mostly due to the fact cats have willful behaviour.” 

Martin can almost taste his heartbeat at this point, a fact he’s finding quite alarming. Still rummaging through papers, Jon steps into his office. Much to Martin’s chagrin, they all seem to be following him. 

“Are you suggesting someone working in this office is a psychopath, Tim?” Jon continues, huffing out another sigh as he notices the entourage entering his office. Jon’s glare lands on Martin once more, something he’s almost gotten used to at this point. 

Laughter begins to flow from Tim, Sasha joining in with a mild chuckle. “Of course not, but hey, this job’s all about researching things that probably aren’t true. Better safe than sorry, right?” 

Seemingly the only one noticing Jon’s growing apprehension, or maybe just the only one that cares, Martin can’t peel his eyes off their boss. Unaware of the scrutiny, though perhaps expecting it nonetheless, Jon pushes up his glasses again. Martin doesn’t miss the way he lets a single finger brush against his nose during this action. Nor do his eyes skip over the light scrunch forming at the bridge of said nose. 

Oblivious as always, Tim’s still going on about the cafe. Something about which animals are available, what tea they serve, scones, and more useless information. Sasha’s typing something in her phone, apparently fact checking his current ramblings. Still, all of that fades into the background as Martin’s attention is drawn to Jon once more. 

At first, he can’t figure out why he’s watching. Jon didn’t speak, and from his posture he hasn’t made any significant gestures. There doesn’t seem to be anything specifically that should have caught his eye, and yet-  

And then it happens again. Jon’s brows tighten, his eyes begin to flutter shut, and his lips part just enough for his tongue to peek out between them. There’s a beat of silence, then a single breathy inhale, barely noticeable above Tim’s monologuing. 

“ihh-” 

Just as quickly as it began, Jon crushes it back once more, a hand roughing swiping against his nose. There’s a quiet feeling of– perverse excitement as Martin watches him. Why? No earthly idea. It’s not as if there’s anything specifically… exciting about the action. There’s no physical stimulation beginning, to phrase it politely. 

Still, there’s something… almost electrifying, about bearing witness to a moment so personal and private. As if the only person in the room is Jon, and he’s opened the door for Martin to join him in his world. Which, as you think about it, just becomes more and more– creepy as hell! Damn it! 

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Martin manages to peel his gaze away from Jon. Zoning back into Tim’s rambling, he just barely catches the tail end of a rant about different toppings on cinnamon buns. His silence was entirely unnoticed. Understandably, given only Tim had said anything in minutes. 

“Personally, I’m a fan of the regular cream cheese icing,” Martin offers, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Tim as another soft sniffle sounds behind him. The others don’t notice it, Sasha rolling her eyes as a light begins to dawn in Tim’s. 

“Well, interesting you say that Martin, they actually have those at the cafe down the street! Isn’t that such a wonderful coincidence?” Tim swirls his body towards Martin, casting a playful glance back at Jon as he continues. “Wouldn’t you like to stop by and get yourself one of those delicious buns?” 

Martin feels his face begin to pale again, and barely manages a meek, “W-well… I don’t need to… get one right now… but if you want-” 

Thankfully he’s saved from himself as a gasp sounds out from the desk. Everyone in the room turns, Martin included, just in time to see Jon duck into his wrist with a tight, “ih’nGXt–uih!” 

“Bless you!” Sasha calls, Tim and Martin echoing the sentiment. A flush begins to spread over Jon’s cheeks, but it’s brushed off as he waves a hand, continuing to scribble on some papers. Casting a glance over to Tim, Martin sighs as the mischief floods the other man's face. He’s very clearly not letting this go. 

“Was that actually a sneeze?” Tim laughs, mimicking the sound as Sasha suppresses a giggle. 

Jon keeps his head down, pen still moving across the paper in disjointed movements. “It was in fact a sneeze, yes. Happens to everyone from time to time, no need to make a big deal out of it. Now, I believe you were going to a cat and do- hiHh! rescue cafe?” 

The hitch manages to escape from Jon’s tight grip, his posture shuddering slightly with the force of continuing the sentence. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Martin that just the word dog seems to leave him breathless. 

“A dog cafe, yeah! You’re coming too, right boss? Come see all the adorable little puppies?” Tim offers, gesturing towards the door. Apparently it didn’t go unnoticed by him either. 

An audible gasp sounds out, and all eyes turn back to the rapidly hitching boss. Jon manages to stifle the first one almost silently, only a rush of breath escaping at the end. 

“Bless you, boss.” 

Jon waves a hand, wiping away the water beginning to flood his eyes. “Was just sihh… sighing, Tim.” He finishes the statement with another stifle, this time his whole body jerks along with the rough exhale.  

“Really? Because that sounded like another sneeze,” Tim taunts, poking a finger towards Jon’s face. “And given the way your nose is twitching, you seem far from done.” 

Jon seems to consider debating, but another frantic hitch decides it for him. Giving up the ruse, he ducks into his shoulder with another, “eh’tNGxt–uh! ih’NTchhuh!”  

“Bless yo-” 

“eH’DGZSHhh –uu!”  The volume makes everyone jump, seeming to surprise even Jon. 

“Oh- mby apologies, I seeb to be… hiehh–” Jon trails off, one hand frantically searching for a tissue, nose visibly trembling behind the other. In a move of uncharacteristic pity, Tim pushes the box within reach. Jon mumbles out a thank you, before swinging his chair around for a touch of privacy. 

The silence is almost deafening, cut up only by the rustling of fabric as Jon attempts to subdue the onslaught. “eh’nGNt –oo!” And fails miserably. 

“Do- maybe do you want… well possibly we should, actually I think you might- I mean he might want–” Desperately trying to find a way to fill the space, Martin rambles on, gaze bouncing between all three of his coworkers.

“Martin,” Jon cuts him off, “just say it.” 

The annoyance Martin’s come to expect seems unaffected by the breathy quality of Jon’s words. Unless you notice the flushed nature of his ears, which… is kinda hard to miss when his nose is starting to match. 

“S-sorry! I just figured you may want a touch of uh… privacy..? You seem… itchy,” Martin offers, already beginning to back out of the room. 

Jon glares, lining up a retort before pausing as the first syllable comes out muffled with congestion. A sharp sniff and quick rub later, he continues in an easier tone. “I’m quite alright. No need for such concerns.” 

“I mean- If… if you’re sure…” 

Tim interrupts this time, draping an arm across Martin’s back. “You heard the boss, he’s fine. Now, onto that cafe?” 

Before Martin can get a word out, Jon stands from his chair, dropping the tissues in the wastebasket next to his desk. Sasha chuckles out her approval, sticking her phone into a pocket and beginning to exit the office. Tim follows suit, leaving Martin standing alone with Jon. 

There’s a beat of silence, Martin watching, horrified, as his body refuses to move an inch, silently waiting for Jon’s approval. 

“Well?” 

It’s not exactly an invitation, but it’s more than enough to send Martin scrambling for the door, muttering more sheepish apologies under his breath. If Jon heard them, he gave no indication, busy rustling through a desk drawer. A few more muffled stifles make their way through the noise, no indication given they were heard either. 

As Martin makes it into the hallway, he catches Tim waving from the door. He’s propping it open with one foot as Sasha waits outside, once again on her phone. Martin waves back his acknowledgement, before gesturing towards the kitchen. Tim simply shrugs, calling something about ‘not waiting around’, before joining Sasha in the crisp autumn air. 

Making his way back to the kitchen, Martin pauses at Jon’s door. He’s not eavesdropping, just… listening in, to see if Jon’s alright. It’s his boss after all, and he’s an assistant! He’s supposed to… assist! Perfectly natural thing to do, isn’t it? 

A harsh double pulls him from his spiralling, Jon’s voice coming through audibly in the groan that follows. Alright, enough listening in, this is starting to feel more creepy than curious. 

With what little confidence he can muster, Martin works his way through his plan. The mugs are where they always are, but the water in the kettle was a bit more cold than a proper cup of tea would allow. Flipping the switch, Martin began heating it, and hurried out of the kitchen to his desk. He picks out a fairly bland tea, Jon seems the bland type… right? 

Another few sneezes sound out from the boss’s office, and Martin almost starts to feel guilty for still being in the office. It’s obvious Jon assumes he’s alone, if not from the sneezes themselves, from the groans that come after them. Ever the stickler for a Professional Appearance, he’d never allow himself to be seen or heard in such a state willingly. 

The kettle sounding pulls Martin from his thoughts once more, and he pours the water over the tea bag. Moving carefully, as not to spill, he makes his way back to Jon’s office, knocking softly on the door. 

“Yes?” The reply is sharp, a frantic sounding shuffling occurring as Martin begins to slide open the door. 

“Hey, yeah sorry I just- you sounded like… I just thought that maybe you’d want… you might need some…” 

“Spit it out, Martin,” Jon sighs, giving his nose a subtle swipe. Unfortunately for him, this seems to have been the wrong choice. His nose twitches, eyes beginning to unfocus, and Martin finds himself pausing for the interruption. At least, until Jon gestures at him to continue. 

“Well, I just ma-” 

“ih’tNGT–uu!” 

“Bless you. I just made you some tea, it seemed you cou-” 

“hHUh’dNT–uh!” There’s a pause, Jon’s breath catching dramatically, before he swivels around in the chair and aims a harsh, “eH’dZSHH– eih’DSCHhhh–oo!” at the fistful of tissues he managed to grab. 

It wasn’t exactly quiet, and Martin finds himself flinching against the noise, but holds it together as he places the mug on Jon’s desk, hurrying through the rest of his sentence. 

“Seemed you could use some tea, bless you again by the way, anyways I’m gonna head off with Sasha and Tim, I’ll see you there I guess! Or, well- not just me, we’ll all see you there, as a group, if you choose to come that is! Which of course you don’t have to, though we’d lik-” 

“Martdin,” Jon, mercifully, cuts him off, congestion seeping through his words. With a deep sigh, he finishes his sentence. “Thagnk you. You mbay go ndow.” 

Taking the out, Martin gives one last nervous smile, sliding out into the hallway. Another desperate sneeze leaves him wincing, Jon’s vocal groan sounding out yet again. The poor guy sounds miserable, and Martin almost considers going back in and telling him not to come. If he’s this bad from just the thought… well… 

But he’s embarrassed himself enough for the day, and, albeit hesitantly, Martin heads off to meet Tim and Sasha at the cafe.

[fandom-geek]

21st May

Yareli Prime, Kullervo Apostate, and Nightwave: Nora’s Mix, vol. 9.

June – Isleweaver (“The Drifter took Hollvania away from her, so now she’s taking Duviri away from the Drifter.”)

Requires 1999 to completed (unsure if it's the Hex quest or rank 5). After doing that, you will be greeted by a new permanent Duviri node, Isleweaver.

Isleweaver launches alongside Operation: Eight Claw (time-limited clan operation). The operation will let you earn cosmetics, a brand new weapon, and pathos clamps, similar to the Jade Shadows event store. Thrax will be the event vendor in your Dormizone.

Duviri will have full Warframe combat in this mission/operation, with twists to it. Thrax is now in Teshin’s Cave, and has dialogue mentioning the Scholar. The Murmur are invading Duviri, as is their architecture. Rusalka is the narrator. There may be fragments present and you might get the opportunity to discover how much of the Rusalka you’re hearing is her and how much is the Indifference.

New Warframe (Oraxia). You can earn her in the new game mode and event. You’ll face off against a (mini?-)boss version of her in a new arena, Scholar's Landing. She can climb walls with one of her abilities. She comes with a whip and secondary throwing weapon.

Citrine deluxe. She comes with a signa and ephemera.

Reworked new player experience. Critical ‘golden’ path rework to 1999 (i.e. getting players there faster), reworked Vor (including tileset), refreshed enemies towards the start of the game, amongst other things. You can now just pick up plants instead of scanning them. Reworked melee slams so radius is affected by jump height, including the Nira mods because they were essentially double buffing you (doing melee damage and slam damage individually rather than together). 4x new augments, for Kullervo, Caliban, Citrine, and Jade.

The Hex are getting 10 new conversations at max rank for each character, 3 longer ones and 7 shorter ones. New Operator hair (Flare, Minerva, Velimir, and Kaya).

Valkyr rework. Passive is now a melee damage meter. Rip Line is now significantly faster and doesn't stop mid-way, while gathering enemies if targeted. Warcry can be cast while moving and uses affinity range. Paralysis no longer requires shield loss, while inflicting slowdown and melee vulnerability on enemies (latter disappears if you switch to ranged). Hysteria has reduced energy costs and no longer has full invulnerability (but still very durable) and increased claw damage. Claws have increased range. General changes - increased health/armour, immunity to status effects, tripled Hysteria effect on Warcry armour buff, and passive prevents death above a certain threshold. Her combo can now inflict slash at its final stage and has better multipliers.

21st July

Valkyr heirloom skin.

Early 2026

Vauban heirloom skin (concept art created by Lua_Luminary). You will be able to toggle the puffer jacket on and off.

[arisuworld]

MANIFESTATION DIDN'T COME YET? AND IT'S BEEN A WHILE? YOU MIGHT BE DOING THESE—

1. NOT LIVING IN THE END COMPLETELY (for example, if you are manifesting increase in height and affirming all the time that you're tall but whenever you stop affirming, you start thinking that you're short. This means that you're NOT LIVING IN THE END)

2. STILL REPEATING THE OLD STORY (when you start affirming for your manifestation, just leave the old story behind BECAUSE THAT'S NOT YOU ANYMORE)

3. LACK OF PERSISTENCE (just because you failed to manifest once, doesn't mean that you cannot manifest. Start persisting and be that queen who always manifest instantly!)

4. LACK OF DISCIPLINE (if you won't start taking accountability for your lack of persistence and lack of faith then you won't be disciplined enough to achieve your desires)

5. BAD SELF CONCEPT (some bloggers say that self concept isn't necessary but in my opinion IT IS! Because AFFIRMING 24/7 WOULDN'T BE ENOUGH IF YOUR SELF CONCEPT IS BAD!! Affirming and then thinking negative thoughts will MANIFEST THE OPPOSITE!! AND You will always think like "what am I doing wrong?" Gurl trust me, it's just your self concept so start working on it)

6. LACK OF FAITH (why don't you just put all of your faith in your manifestation FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE? YOU KNOW MANIFESTATION IS 100% REAL THEN WHY? JUST DO IT!! YOU HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE, ONLY TO GAIN)

7. WORRYING ABOUT TIME (The more you worry about time, the more you convey to your subconscious about how you don’t have your desires. Ignore the time. It doesn’t matter. You have it in your imagination, because manifestation is instant. if the time is getting to you, get back into the state of wish fulfilled. Persisting solves everything)

8. SEEKING RESULTS IN 3D (Now we know that 4D is our real reality then why the fuck you seek results in 3D? If you had your desire in 3D then would you look for results in mirror again and again? No right? Then stop it!!! It wil only delay your results)

© arisuworld