#I'll probably get to these in half a year.

[starmaidengarden]

@meime13 request: OMG, I just read what i requested, it was super cute, tbh, I didn't expected u to reply to my request, thank u very much, i think at this rate i'll become a bit greedy and always sending requests, ofc, if u don't mind, thank u very much Can I request smth else? Of course if u don't mind, may I request headcanons second year students (+Ace, if it's too much u can ignore it) with an s/o who's really sensitive, like can get provoked really easily and can cry from anger as well, and takes things personally sometimes without realizing it and sometimes unconsciously victimize herself and really subjective altho she claims to be "logical", and she absolutely hate this side of her and wish she was stone hearted person or emotionless and use her brain instead of her heart Sorry for too much yapping, it's ok if u don't accept the request, tbh i think i got a lil too excited, Take care

— 2nd years : ace : x gn!reader. victimize, ace being ace. established relationship. dividers : uzmacchiato!

a/n: no worries! I love your headcanons! Feel free to send as many requests as you like. There was a problem with the request where I couldn't add pictures. Sorry to do it this way again. hope you enjoy!!

Riddle Rosehearts ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ At first, Riddle might have a tough time with how you react—he used to keep his feelings bottled up, thinking they were a weakness. But when he sees you cry or take things seriously, it hits him hard.

⭑.ᐟ He really tries to tread carefully around you and feels bad if he comes off too harsh. “Being pushed by your emotions isn’t a bad thing. It just needs a little guidance instead of pushing it away.” He’ll help you find ways to handle your feelings better—like journaling, or even venting sessions.

Ace Trappola ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ At first, he might be kind of clueless and joke around too much, unintentionally setting you off. When he realizes his teasing has hurt you, his behavior changes completely. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that! Damn, I’m really sorry—I was just messing around.” He’d feel really bad seeing you cry out of frustration or anger, especially if it was triggered by something he said.

⭑.ᐟ He doesn’t like seeing you hate yourself over your feelings and often tries to reassure you. “If you were just some emotionless robot, I probably wouldn’t even like you,” he says with a half-smile, hoping to lighten the mood. When you're overwhelmed, he tries to help you work through your feelings logically, but he’s learned to listen more and push less. He understands that being present for you, especially in tough moments, is what truly matters.

Ruggie Bucchi ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ Ruggie is really good at brushing things off, so he’s surprised by how seriously you take everything. He often jokes about stuff that upsets you, not because he intends any harm, but because that’s just how he deals with things—and it usually backfires. When he sees you getting upset or spiraling into negative thoughts about yourself, he shifts into serious mode.

⭑.ᐟ He quietly brings you some food, sits next to you, and lets you vent until you calm down. Then, he teases you just enough to help you get out of your head. He reminds you that feeling emotions is part of getting through life; not everything has to be so logical all the time. “Even if you feel too much sometimes, I’d rather that than you not care at all.”

Azul Ashengrotto ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ Azul truly understands your deep-seated feelings, even if he presents a tough surface. He knows what it’s like to struggle with parts of yourself that you can’t change, particularly the lingering fear of being perceived as “weak.” Initially, he is taken aback by your emotional outbursts and tries to resolve everything with logic, which only deepens your distress.

⭑.ᐟ However, once he realizes this approach isn’t effective, he shifts. He begins offering you more compliments and the emotional support you’ve been missing. Also, he enjoys helping you work through your thoughts, gently guiding you past any negative thinking. “Even if you can’t see it right now, I promise—what I see is someone worth listening to.”

Jade Leech ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ Jade is really in tune with your feelings—he picks up on your emotional shifts even before you do. He never makes you feel dumb or irrational for crying or reacting strongly. His voice has this calm, soothing vibe, kind of like a lullaby. When you’re stuck in a loop of self-hate, he helps you flip your thoughts around. “Your feelings are part of what makes you, you. Why get rid of something so human?”

⭑.ᐟ He’s the kind of person who helps you figure out your reactions without judging. He’s never condescending but does push back a bit “Do you really want to be emotionless, or do you just want to avoid getting hurt so easily?”

Floyd Leech ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ Floyd really loves your passionate side because it’s all over the place and real. He never judges you for it, even if he doesn’t always get it. If you’re crying out of anger, he gets fired up too— “Who messed with you? Want me to take care of them?” He’s not the type to baby you, but he knows how to comfort you in his own way—with tight hugs and holding your face, telling you, “I like Shrimpy just like this. Don’t change and become boring.”

⭑.ᐟ He can be pretty blunt and might say stuff that ends up hurting your feelings without meaning to. Then he gets a bit mopey if you take it too hard, like, “I didn’t mean it that way, don’t be like that…” Floyd appreciates your honesty, even if it leads to tears because you’re never boring, and that’s what he loves the most.

Kalim Al-Asim ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ He doesn’t judge you for crying or getting upset—often. However, since he is such a cheerful person, he sometimes fails to notice when you're really struggling internally or blaming yourself.

⭑.ᐟ When he does pick up on it, he responds by showing even more affection: giving you hugs, showering you with compliments, and listing all the reasons he loves how expressive you are. He’s not interested in changing you; he simply reminds you that it’s completely okay to be emotional—it just shows how much you care. “Honestly, if you weren’t like this, I probably wouldn’t have fallen for you. You make everything feel so real.”

Jamil Viper ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ Jamil picks up on everything, even the little stuff, like small expressions and changes in your mood. He may not always say anything, but he knows exactly how easily you can get hurt. When you get upset and cry from anger, he helps you take deep breaths while giving you some space. Later on, he’ll sit next to you and ask if you want to talk or let it all out.

⭑.ᐟ He also tries to share some of his grounding tricks with you, like breathing techniques or mental checklists, to help you work through your feelings. “You don’t have to be emotionless to be strong. Honestly, it just means your heart is more open than mine ever was.”

Silver ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ Silver is incredibly patient with you, your sensitivity doesn’t bother him. When you feel overwhelmed, he speaks to you softly and doesn’t push you to "make sense" of things—he simply waits until you feel safe.

⭑.ᐟ He encourages you to take it easy, find your footing, and slow down. “You don’t have to figure everything out. Sometimes you just need to feel it.” If you express a desire to be emotionless, he frowns, “That would be a shame. Your feelings are what make you, you.”

[bearyfast]

Rained In - LN4

Partnering: Lando Norris x reader

Type: Fluff (kinda angst a little but not really)

Established Relationship

Summary: After being rained in on a weekend trip away from the F1 world, Lando's real feelings about the future come out by the fireplace.

Warnings: None (if I've missed any, please let me know and I'll add them!)

F1 Masterlist

“I’m sorry today didn’t work out,” Lando mumbled into your hair as you were cuddling on the couch together, you wrapped up in his strong arms, keeping you in place. “I know you wanted us to actually do something on this holiday”

Coming up to a weekend break from the Formula One season, you had convinced Lando to go on a weekend getaway to a cabin in the English countryside.

You had wanted to do a few different things; going on walks and just adventuring in the countryside that you normally didn’t get to see with all the glitz and glamour of living in Monaco and being a Formula One driver (and a Formula One drivers girlfriend).

Unfortunately for your plans, the weather decided that it would rain; and rain it did.

Since an hour before the sun even rose until what would probably be the entire night it had been constant raining and pouring.

Which leads to the current situation- you and Lando laying together on the couch, watching a DVD that Lando brought along for some reason since the internet was down and a knitted blanket draped over both of you.

“It’s alright, today worked out pretty good anyway” You spoke softly, looking up to him with a soft smile and a small giggle at the end of your words.

Earlier that day, instead of leaving in the rain, you decided that you had all the ingredients to bake a pie. Which you did- really the only issue was Lando.

You see, as you were making the base of the pie, fingers deep in dough and hands clad with flour, Lando decided he would be ‘helpful’. Well if helpful meant scaring you by coming up the back of you without making a sound and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Jumping at the sudden contact, you spun around and placed your hands (the ones that had flour and dough all over them) on Lando’s chest to push him back. This caused Lando’s shirt to get flour and dough on it and his adorable little pout to be on his face for the next hour.

Though everything worked out in the end when you found him eating half of the pie a few minutes later- before you even got a chance to cut it up to have for lunch.

“Don’t remind me” Lando groaned as he pulled you closer to him, turning you around so you laid on top of him, chest to chest.

Leaning forward, you placed a soft kiss on his lips with Lando responding almost immediately-  turning the intended soft and short kiss into an intimate and slow one. It felt as if this kiss was somehow more open and honest than any other kiss you had ever had in your year long relationship.

As Lando pulled away, he connected your forehead with something… new in his eyes. Under the light of the fireplace nearby, the embers lighting up his face and eyes in a way you hadn’t seen before.

Like he was just full of love and finally let himself show that. It made your heart swell before he even began speaking again.

“You know what my biggest fear is?” Lando asked softly but with a raw undertone in his voice, nodding slightly as the already quiet noise from the TV turned into almost blurry noises in the background. “It’s losing you”

Before you could comfort him or tell him you weren’t going away, he shook his head to silence you while he swallowed.

“What if one day something happens to me on the track? I get hurt and suddenly I can’t come home to you,” Lando spoke with emotion high in his voice, but it came out slightly muffled since he grabbed the back of your head softly to hug you and buried his own head in the crook of your neck for comfort. “Or worse, what if our long term relationship doesn’t work out? What if we have different views of the future?”

After being silent for a few moments, you wrapped your arms around him as well. “That won’t happen, Lan. Why were you thinking of this anyway? Do you think we will have different ideas for the future?”

“No, I just-” Lando stopped himself, taking a deep breath of the scent of your perfume and shampoo’s scent mixed together. “Recently I met up with a guy from high school I used to be friends with, and when he proposed to his girlfriend, she uh- she said no because I guess they weren’t on the same page about their relationship.Then, you know, of course my job”

“Oh, baby,” You cooed, pulling his head out of the crook of your neck, holding it in your hands softly. “I knew your job when I started dating you, I know the risks, and also I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page of our relationship, but if you want to be sure- just ask, baby”

Lando just looked up to you for a moment before kissing you again- a tear running down his cheek and you quickly wiped away.

“So, just to check, if I were to propose, you wouldn’t reject me?” Lando said with a small grin on his face, the love in his eyes somehow stronger than before.

“I would only say no if you did it publicly” You smiled before kissing him again.

“Expect it soon then” Lando states suddenly. “After being rained in with you here and speaking to you like this, I realised that I only want you- forever and always. I love you”

“I love you too, Lan” You whispered, matching the raw emotion in his voice, something only achieved when away from the camera’s and in the privacy of between yourselves.

[rogue-durin-16]

HEAD-TO-HEAD (part XX/?)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst splattered with fluff/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget @ladystardustfromarss @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark @sxalbatf @jetjuliette @luvrottt @fromjupitertocentauri @ecompstolemysoul @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bitter-post-millennial @gotxpenny @knight-of-thesun @scottstr3et

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark @gotxpenny

Permanent taglist: @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, smoking, nudity? (Is that a warning?), depictions of wounds, death.

A/N: this was supposed to be a drabble I'm so done. Anyway, here's the shower scene, enjoy<3

Head-to-head masterlist

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The basement was too quiet. Not silent—quiet in the way a place goes after someone's last breath was wrung out of it. No shouting, no talking; just tears and shivering —and Jackson's body on a stretcher laid on the floor, with an itchy blanket covering his torn face and the stillness of his chest.

No one acknowledged Don when entered the cellar turned bunker. No one cared enough.

"Y/n," he called gently. I blinked away the patrol's darkness to stare at him. "Speirs cleared the officers' showers for you." His gaze flicked to Jones momentarily. "I'll stand watch."

I limited myself to nod, offering the ginger a quiet 'okay'. I, too, turned to check on the distressed Lieutenant, who seemed to be doing his best to navigate a situation he hadn't expected to deal with.

"Go." He allowed, still caressing Vest's crown. "Sergeant?"

"Sir?"

"Get that checked at the aid station."

I tilted my chin, an instinctive move that shifted my attention to the shoulder that didn't hurt yet.

"Will do, Sir."

Malarkey stretched out his arm for me to go with him, and only came down limply at his side when we fell into step together.

We moved in silence through the cold, mindful to avoid getting too close to the river. The mud on my uniform crunched when I moved. My fingers ached. My legs moved on habit.

"I'm sorry." I whispered after taking the third turn.

Malarkey gave me a sideways look. "For what?"

"For the showers, earlier. With Jones." I clarified, sparing half a second to examine my friend's expression in the dark. "Didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"That kid was born with a stick up his ass." He commented distractedly, pushing the officers' billet's door open. "You didn't put it there, did you?"

I cracked a tired smirk as I followed him inside a much nicer space than the one Second Platoon had huddled into.

"You really shook him, though." He went on, turning on the hallway's flickering lightbulb. "Taking off your shirt like that? Think he's never seen a woman naked. Probably had to go lie down after." I breathed out something close to a laugh, tired but genuine, and followed Don to a door tucked away behind the main house. "At least you get to take a fancy shower."

"Lucky me." I muttered, taking a look around me.

The officers' showers were smaller, yet definitely of better quality than the company's communal tent, solid walls and tiles protecting the pair of showerheads jutting out. The inside was dim and smelled faintly of rust and lye, pipes groaning somewhere behind the cement.

"Take your time." Malarkey reassured me before I could even ask how long did I have. "I'm not moving."

"Y/n," The ginger called from the opposite corner of the room, where he stood with his gaze trained on his boots. "Anything happened?"

I shook my head affirmatively and began peeling off the uniform piece by piece, each layer heavier than the last. My sweater clung to dried blood and dirt.

"During the patrol?" I inquired, pulling my undershirt over my head, flakes of dried something—sweat, blood, grime—fluttering to the floor.

"This morning. With Lieb."

I froze on the spot, half a second too long. "Define 'something'." I tried to play off the halt in my motions as a struggle caused by the straining pain puncturing my back.

Malarkey let out a tired sigh. "He made you cry?"

"What? No," I threw a confused glance over my shoulder to meet his eyes on the ruined mirror hung across from us. "where'd that come from?" I didn't give him the chance to question further, scared of where his suspicions would land if he caught me off guard again. "We had an argument. You know how it is with him."

"That's it?"

I nodded. "That's it."

That seemed to settle my friend's uneasiness, although I wasn't sure if he bought it or was just humoring me. He sure didn't look like he had the energy to dig deeper.

The faucet opened with a screech, giving way to what soon turned into a scalding purge.

At first, nothing came off; the filth clung to me like skin. My palms turned gray with it, my nails filled with sludge. The blood down my arms—Jackson's, I realized in a nauseous wave—ran down the drain in thin, pink streaks. More and more of it. I scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin turned red.

Aside from the promised bruises a bad landing had earned me, there must have been a gash across my shoulder blade my body had forgotten to tell me about.

The water ran brown, then rust-colored, then finally clear. I got rid of my underwear and hung it nearby. My scalp stung with the hot water, matted locks slowly untangling until I could fully run my fingers through it all.

The knots on my muscles eased up, and the scorching feeling became soothing in a way that made a lump crawl up my throat.

"Don, I need a minute." My words were rushed and quiet, which told the man more than he needed to know. With a decided ''course', he stepped out, pulling the door closed behind him.

The moment the lock clicked, I broke. A single sob stole the breathing out of me, and, due of the rare moment of privacy, I allowed myself to feel it. Just for one minute, arms around my stomach, eyes shut, shaky shoulders that wouldn't settle.

Just one minute to rinse myself clean inside and out.

More than most would get.

JOE'S P. O. V.

I told myself it was just the uniform.

That's why I walked over to the officers' billet. That's why I folded her spare shirt and pants under my arm like it mattered. Like it wasn't just a poor excuse to see her again. Thanks to the full moon, the sky was still gray like it hadn't moved all day. The ground squelched under my boots.

Malarkey was right outside what Luz had described as the gateway to the officers' showers, his hands in his pockets, head hanging low.

"She got a clean uniform?" I questioned, mostly to announce myself, stopping a few feet short from the Sergeant.

"I was gonna go grab one."

"No need to." I motioned at the folded ODs I carried. "Saved you the trouble."

"Saved me the trouble." Malarkey repeated with wary eyes, but he still pushed the door open just enough to call through. "Y/n? Lieb brought you a clean uniform."

At first, there was no reply. The water was still running and for a second, I doubted she'd heard Malarkey at all. Then her voice came out, a bit jagged, a bit rough, but loud enough for us to hear.

"Tell him to leave it in."

The ginger left the door ajar and tilted his head to the showers, arms folded over his chest; his go-to way of holding himself together lately. "You heard her."

"Right." I circled his form to reach the entrance, but hesitated half a step out. "Hey, I was thinkin'," my tone was strained, as if I was pretending real hard something didn't matter. "maybe I could take it from here."

Malarkey raised an eyebrow. "Take what from where?"

"Someone's gotta stand watch, right?" I began, doing my best to keep my demeanor even. "I ain't got shit to do."

There was a beat of silence in which I had to fight the urge to resort to my usual attitude, triggered by the ginger's squinted eyes trying hard to read between lines. To my surprise, he didn't make a single question. Just took a step back and, darting one last glance to the showers, warned me, "don't make it worse."

Yeah, right, I thought to myself, 'cause it's always that simple with her.

I stepped in, the air thick with steam, the sharp sting of soap and something older. Maybe copper. Or dirt. Or maybe the months of rot boiling off skin and soul.

The weak light buzzed overhead like it could give out any second. I didn't look straight at her. I didn't have to —the cracked mirror over the rusted sink caught enough.

Her back was to me; water traced the curve of her spine, slow, reluctant lines cutting through reddened skin. Bruises bloomed along her shoulder, dark and angry. There was a tremble in her arms I chose to blame on the cold.

I crossed the small space and crouched near the stall. "I'll leave it here." I informed her, setting the uniform down and away from the water's reach.

She mumbled something that reached my ears as a 'thank you', one hand braced against the wall and her forehead pressed to the tile.

"Want me to wait outside?" I questioned, taking two strides in the door's direction with no real intention of crossing it.

"You can stay."

So I did, leaning on the concrete wall, searching desperately for something to do with my hands.

"Mind if I smoke?"

"Since when do you ask for permission?" I scoffed at her question, although my fingers had already dug into my jacket's pockets for a cigarette I was placing between my teeth and a lighter that wouldn't catch. "Lighter's in my pants." She added, like she already knew I'd ask.

I didn't say a word; just made my way over to the pile of discarded overused fatigues and rummaged through it until I found what I was looking for, doing my best to focus on lighting the cigarette and not on how easy it'd be to see her —actually see her—. Just a slight tilt to my left, no reflections, no distance, just the soft silhouette of her body, battered and bruised and perfect. It wouldn't be the first time I saw her, but it was starting to feel like it.

Maybe it was the privacy offered by these showers, the quietness begging to be broken, or the ghost of her lips still making mine tingle.

Light the damn cigarette. Once. Twice. The flame caught and I took a long drag, tossing the lighter back over the olive fabric.

It wasn't until I had returned to my previous spot that I spoke again, voice too controlled to sound natural. "Regiment wants another patrol tomorrow night. Same roster, same plan."

The water shut off with a sharp clank. She stood there a second. "Wonderful." She said, "Wanna bet on who goes down in this one?"

Y/n stepped away from the drain and the wet tiles, grabbing her soaked underwear and wringing it out. My eyes kept stealing glances on the mirror, catching flashes—her hip, the rise of her ribs, the old scar near her navel.

Our gazes met twice before she even pulled up her pants. She didn't comment on it.

"To be fair, chances are it’ll be me." She commented, almost offhandedly.

"Think that's funny?" It came out sharper than intended, but then again, wasn't that how it always went with her?

"You're the one who said I'm getting sloppy." She grabbed her bra next and rinsed it without much care. "Maybe you're right."

I heard it in the lack of bite or sarcasm. Something off, making it sound more like a confession rather than a smart quip.

"Something happen during the patrol?"

She turned a little —enough to catch my face in the mirror, this time with intent. Her own were flat. "Fell off the stairs while we were grabbing the prisoners. Landed on my back." As if on cue, a small wince twisted her face when she turned further. She held the bra loosely in one hand. "Can you help me clasp this?"

I was moving before she finished the sentence.

Up close, her back was a goddamn mess. A new scrape cut through her shoulder blade; skin torn in uneven streaks over purple and blue. I let my fingers graze the bruise as I reached for the hooks, and took my sweet time —time I didn't really need for the simple task. She didn't flinch.

She didn't move, either. But I lingered for too long, my mind wandering places where it had no business going.

"You're being weird." A call-out I didn't want but needed. My touch exchanged her damp skin for the cigarette trapped between my lips.

"I'm not being weird."

She turned around, chest rising slowly beneath the now clasped bra, arms slack at her sides. I reached instinctively, brushing off a small streak of something—mud, maybe, or ash—on her collarbone that had refused to detach during the shower.

"Stop."

There it was. That tone she used when she wanted to pretend she held some kind of moral high ground over me. The one that got under my skin the most. I paused before lashing out. Exhaled through my nose, looked off to the side so I wouldn't have to look at her.

"We should talk." I stated, rubbing my forehead.

"I don't feel like it."

Again.

I snapped before I could think better of it. "Look, I don't fuckin' care how you feel." I tore the cigarette from my mouth and put it off on the sink. "We should talk."

She crouched to grab her undershirt, and threw it on like a barrier between us. "You're acting like talking would fix us."

Us. The nerve.

"Can you not be a bitch for five seconds?" That shut her up. Her mouth opened a little, like she might have found the will to actually say something, then closed again. "We kissed."

Her eyes narrowed. "That's what you wanna talk about?"

No.

I wanted to talk about the shit dazing my mind since God knows when, all of them related to her in some degree; about how everyone but her seemed to notice she was driving me crazy; about the way I thought kissing her stupid would fix whatever was wrong but only made it worse.

"Now? Yes." I half-lied, because this was the best I would get.

She bent over. Didn't look at me as she tugged on her shirt, focusing on the buttons instead. Then came the sweater. More layers to guard herself.

"It was just a kiss."

"Just a kiss." I echoed, gaze digging into her form with a mix of confusion and resentment.

"Just that." Her voice wasn't cold, but it was empty. I found myself unsurprised by Y/n trying to make herself believe it. Because it couldn't be true, could it? "I felt fuckin'... awful and I needed something to…" she sighed. I searched for the truth behind her irises. Couldn't find it. "That did the trick, okay? It doesn't have to be anything else."

It doesn't have to be anything else.

I blinked at her, standing still while she put on her boots, digits slightly shaky when she laced them up.

It doesn't have to be anything else.

She threw on her new jacket, scrambling to bunch up the old uniform in her arms. Her lighter found a new home into her breast pocket.

It doesn't have to be anything else.

"Joe?"

"Alright." A step back, two, I pivoted on my foot, signalling her to follow me out of the showers. She complied without pushing it.

It doesn't have to be anything else, she said.

Like I could choose what it was. I couldn't.

[mortish-writes]

The four and a half months since I started the Bride of Shadows interactive novel have flown by. As of this weekend, we'll have well over 200,000 words, a lot of it unique content, and story lines that diverge in interesting ways. Although it can be challenging at times, I'm really glad that I opted to write this story as an interactive novel. Not only is it fun to explore the different possibilities, but I also love the community.

May will bring a lot of much-anticipated content, including a variety of new NSFW scenes for every story route, new clothes for your MC, a possible matrimony, a plot twist or two, and of course, the conception of your god-baby.

Week One of May (we are here!) already has updates to both the Unaligned Zealot (Valdricht Route) and the Aligned Zealot on Patreon. The first half of each night is around the length of a typical night, but there's still a lot more to come. This weekend, likely on Sunday, I'll be releasing the first half of the Heretic NSFW Night VI for patrons and you'll get a first look at the (hopefully) clever way the pregnancy tailoring is established.

Week Two of May will bring the Unaligned Zealot (Serax Route) and the first half of the standard Heretic Night VI. It'll have a lot of parallels with the Aligned Zealot route, but also some key differences that I think Heretic players will really appreciate. As a bonus for players of both routes, I'll be extending the Heretic route for an additional 5-10 passages of being out on the town (or dragged into the nearest bedroom) with Valdricht.

Week Three will give you the option to crank up the heat with a lengthy MMF scene or give your lovers the cold shoulder in the second half of the NSFW Heretic route. It'll also be when I launch the first half of all Night VI routes for free on Itch.

Weeks Four & Five will put a bow on the remaining routes and, ideally, see all versions of the MC consummating her union with Valdricht & Serax. After that, I'm going to get started on the Week One update, which will include a streamlined prologue, bonus scenes, new tendency options for both patrons and free players, and Night VII. I anticipate it'll take 2-3 weeks, but there will be a lot of sneak peeks & alternate POV scenes to tide you over.

There will be three new alternate POV scenes in May, one for everyone, one for all Patreon members, and one for Darksinger & Duskweaver members.

As I've mentioned on Patreon, I'll be officially writing Bride of Shadows full-time come mid-May. Thank you for your support and I look forward to raining new content upon you. I suspect this schedule will be greatly accelerated come mid-May, but I don't want to over-promise so I'll keep the time estimates conservative for now.

I also have a contemporary MF vampire erotic romance I wrote a couple years ago. As I have time, I'm going to tweak it into a linear-ish interactive novel, probably in ChoiceScript. If you see me publishing anything else, rest assured, I'm not taking time from Bride of Shadows to start a new project, just retrofitting a completed story into a new format once my daily writing is done. Plus, it's a good story with hot vampire/demon explicit content. You'll like it.

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[Ko-Fi]

[kabr0ztrousers]

It is March and I am locking my mermaid story for mermay. A group of two mermaids and two mermen hold down and have a curiosity fuck with a human. I'll let you choose the sex and gender of the person and I'd like each mer to be based off a different type of fish.

Kabr0z Writes Episode 115: Oceanography

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes Anthology here!

AO3 yet persists

CWs: Double vaginal penetration; oviposition; impregnation; hypnosis; lingering hypnosis; dubcon; noncon; overstimulation; parasitic pregnancy; thalassophobia

A/N: It's a bank holiday weekend in the UK, and I'm spending a lot of it alone, so I'm hoping to put out some bonus episodes and catch up on lost time over the year so far!

That said I've got a few Mer-May stories in the queue (I do appreciate the foolhardiness of the person submitting one on the last day of April) so the bonuses will be on theme and the regular submissions will be the ones near the top of the queue!

Here's hoping typing that sunny optimism hasn't brought the writer's curse upon me!

####################################

You checked your gear, helped Brian check his, the usual. No tears in the BCD, inflates fine, regulators OK, gauges OK, air tastes fine if a little rubbery, you made sure you remembered how to release Brian's weights and he reminded himself of yours. The same battery of checks you'd run twice a day for the last fortnight mapping this reef, but the moment you slip on procedure, that's when shit goes sideways, and if shit goes sideways 20 metres under the sea, that's when people die.

Thankfully the water's warm in the Canaries. You'd hate to be doing this with a drysuit, and hey, tapas at the seaside was your favourite lunch. One dive in the morning, one in the afternoon, then the rest of the day writing reports in the sun with a glass of red wine, feeling the nitrogen bleed from your blood into your popping joints.

This morning's dive is an easy one, a couple of kilometres from a sleepy tourist town. A bit of a scramble to the waterline, but deep in and no exhausting surface swim until you're able to start your descent. Enough air budgeted for 90 minutes each and few boats, if any at all. Hell, the you got the existing maps for this area from a local scuba diving school, supposedly it's a nice spot to take the newbies to get qualified. Almost no dives this time of year, of course. January is the off-season, too cold for the Canarians and right at the start of the school term so there's very little chance of anyone disturbing you.

You slipped into the Atlantic water. Cold, but bearable, and you'd warm up as you went. Masks went on, regulators in, a signal to descend and you both bled the air from your BCDs. You sank like stones, the lead weights on your belts pulling you under the waves as you pinched your noses and equalised your ears. A puff of air through the low pressure hose, a quick shake to distribute it through your floatation, and you were suspended a couple of metres from the bottom. Your gauge read 10m deep. You smiled to yourself, almost wishing you'd saved this one for the afternoon. The maps didn't indicate much dropoff through your route. That 90 minutes of air would probably last you two hours at this depth, but you weren't keen on rewriting a plan on the fly, so you set the bezel on your watch and signaled OK to your buddy.

You followed him, snapping photos of the rocky reef as you tracked it around the coast. The plan was to get to a certain point taking photos, then turn around and track back casting a quadrant every twenty metres or so. It makes it easier to budget time and air doing the time-consuming stuff on the way back so if you have to scrub a dive early you're already on the way back in and can just take note of where you got to and refactor the plan when you revisit. Thankfully that's not happened so far, but again, the sea is always half-trying to end you so you can't get complacent.

You started noticing movement out of the corners of your eye, shadows on the edge of visibility. There wasn't meant to be anyone else here, but it's not impossible there's a party diving off a RIB idling nearby. If they were then you'd probably not see much of them but silhouettes against the infinite blue of the ocean, you don't bother taking a boat out to dive the shallows when they're this accessible. It just doesn't make sense.

Still, those ghosts hung in the oceanic fog, indistinct shapes on the edge of vision. You tapped your tank, getting Brian's attention and pointing out at them. He just shrugged and signaled asking if you wanted to scrub and come back later. You signaled no, keep going. You'd paid for 4 litres of air at 200 bar, and they'd charge you the same whether the tank was half full or totally empty. The worst some tourists would do is spear some of the invasive spiny urchins and frankly, let them. Fewer for you to count on the way back.

On you pressed, grabbing photos of the fauna as you went. You got a particularly nice shot of a cuttlefish you were looking forward to posting to your socials when you got ashore and plugged your camera in. Still you were seeing those shadows. Four of them. Their fins were unusual, you knew some people preferred the whale-style of fixed fins where you'd kick with both legs at the same time, but they're such a nightmare to get on and off you can't imagine four people choosing them. Maybe it's a challenge, or a bet? Yeah, you could see a group doing something like that for a bet. Probably agreed on over a few too many beers the night before.

You reached the turning around point. It only took 35 minutes to get here according to your bezel, and Brian's agreed. Still, plans are plans. You reset your time, 45 minutes to get back. Wiggle room is nice, but safety margins are better.

Brian pointed over your shoulder, you turned around to see them. The four shapes were swimming towards you, far faster than any human can go. They were too sleek, too streamlined, then it hit you. They're free diving. No tanks, no tubes, hell not even a snorkel between them.

Twenty metres out.

How could they be doing that? It's not impossible to free dive ten metres... Pearl divers do it all the time, but normally just hitting the bottom and making their way up, not hanging around in the water column for minutes at a time.

Ten metres.

That's how. At this distance the scales on their tails were much more visible, as were the enlarged eyes, gills and webbed hands. Merfolk.

The first one hit you like a freight train, snapping the quick release of your BCD and wrenching you out of it, the floatation device shooting to the surface like a cork, ripping your regulator out of your mouth as it took your tank with it. The second hit Brian, cutting his weight belt with a sharpened piece of glass, before throwing him upwards to meet your stricken gear.

You looked around, squinting in vein against the salt water that leaked into your mask as the reg hit it, held off the ocean floor by a long-spined merman.

Another merfolk, this one female, pressed her face against yours, invading your mouth with a long barbed tongue as she kissed you, before punching you in the gut.

Your breath left you in a flurry of bubbles before you gasped, filling your lungs with saltwater. You didn't drown. You took another few tentative breaths, feeling your lungs fill and empty. the merman behind you released your weights, using the buckle rather than a knife. The others approached from the shadow and you saw all four together.

The one who had been holding you was spiky and striped, dull red against vibrant white, vicious needles running from his hair down his spine, all the way to the end of his tail, just above his fin.

The other, the one who kissed you was also a dull reddish, but mottled with brown, still spiny, but hers were short, closer to her scaled skin and covering more of her back and arms.

Another mermaid had no spines at all, instead her scales were patterned in complex bands of black and white, giving her a striking appearance

The last merman had greenish blue scales, lined with vibrant orange leading to vivid yellow fins.

One thing united this coterie of merfolk, the hungry looks they all gave you. You looked up at Brian, he was floating on his belly, looking down at you. You motioned for him to go, swim back and get help. It's a bad idea to try to fight merfolk in the water, for the same reason you shouldn't try wrestling a tiger shark, and if they're letting you breathe down here, they're unlikely to kill you.

They would've done that already.

You looked at each one in turn, letting your arms dangle gently either side of you, floating in the water. Your knife had been in your BCD, you knew you weren't armed any more, but they might not.

You felt their gaze on you as you turned this way and that. Getting bolder, the spiny merman swam closer to you, taking you in his arms, kissing you again. All you could taste was salt when his tongue entered your mouth, it was smoother than the spiny lady's, but still forceful. He wasn't letting you mistake who was in charge here. A hand opened your legs, and you felt something cut through the neoprene fabric of your wetsuit, exposing your crotch. You winced, partly at the thought of having a blade that close to your pussy, partly because that's £70 you're never getting back.

The tail of the merman halfway down your throat pushed between your legs, replacing the vandal who'd just opened you. You felt his cock slide from the genital slit in his front, pressing up against you. The prehensile cock slid around your bikini bottoms, crumpling the gusset to the fold between your thigh and your cunt. You murmured as it massaged into you, a thick, slimy lube seeping from it, clinging to your skin, warm after the cold ocean water.

He wasn't giving you any more foreplay than that. His tip slid in as another merman slid behind you, cock already producing that thick slime, poised to enter your cunt alongside his spiky fellow.

You tried to protest, sonorous laughter came from the merfolk, each a slightly different call. The women swam up to you, their laughing turning to singing. the sound filled your mind. Your thoughts fled from the bright harmonies, the trilling vibratos scouring your reluctance from you. You started to suck on the tongue in your mouth, arching your back to help the bluish-green merman as his cock stretched you.

Even underwater, you could moan. The songs of the mermaids either side of you crooned to you, encouraging you to rock your hips, to gyrate on the cocks within you, feeling them ooze and pulse, until the pleasure ws too much for you.

Your body seized, cunt squeezing the rods together, feeling every ridge in both of them as you pulsed against them. You watched as the one in front of you tensed in unison with you, his face twisting into a snarl of primal desire before his cock pulsed inside you. Hot spunk washed into you, carried by more of the thick, lubricating slime, sticking to your insides as you heard the man behind you growl. You yipped as his jagged teeth bit into your ear, before sighing when he too started pumping hot sludge into you, thick and sticky. You stayed locked together, you riding the waves of your orgasm, them pumping you full of merman spunk, before they slid themselves out of you.

You hung in the water column, blissed out, hardly moving. The black and white mermaid stopped singing, pulling you horizontal and lining herself up with you. You hadn't learned much about merfolk before coming out here, they're much more common in the Mediterranean and Caribbean, with some in the North Sea, so it didn't seem much point. As a result, you didn't know about the ovipositor sheltered within her slit until she'd already hilted herself in you.

The spiny mermaid held your head in both hands, her wide, inhuman eyes locked with yours as her lilting voice kept you stupid and compliant, a drooling mess for the striped one to thrust into, stirring up the spunk with her ridged pseudopenis as she had her way.

Every ridge was heaven. Every thrust made your eyes cross, just a little more. Your tongue hung out as your hands kneaded your tits. Your whines and moans begged her not to stop, to keep going, to keep fucking you harder and harder.

The ovipositor pressed hard into you, the end touching your cervix before it started to spurt jets of tiny, grainy eggs into you. You felt them filling your womb, mingling with the sexual fluids left inside you by the mermen. Pump after pump flowed into you, before she pulled out, resuming her song.

The last one took her place at your gaping, clenching cunt. Her already-erect ovipositor sliding deep into you. You whimpered as her ridges tormented your overstimulated body, twitching and squirming against her, hearing her gasp, feeling her shudder. She fucked you hard and fast, not interested in your pleasure, even as she brought you screaming over the edge. Your writhing body and pulsing, clenching cunt pushed her to bury herself in you. A moment passed, then she too filled you with eggs, tiny spheres filling you, mingling with the others, each one a nymph-to-be, each one finding a sperm to partner with, bulging your womb with a fertile mixture. Pump after pump filled you, the jelly-like spawn going semi-hard within your body. None of it would come out until it was ready.

The foursome returned you to the surface, slipping your BCD back on, snapping the clips back together. Your hand reached for the control, filling the device with air, keeping you afloat.

You're not sure how long you stayed there, coughing up saltwater as you started breathing air again. An ambulance boat picked you up, and a Spanish paramedic gently told you that you'd need to return to these waters to give birth to the thousands of young within you.

Maybe it's the mermaid song, still flowing through the corridors of your mind, but that doesn't seem so bad

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Well, that one went long. Hope you all enjoyed it!

Like I said, this one jumped the queue a bit for Mer-May, but I'm planning on the regular episode for tonight as well, so for the person anxiously waiting for their (very) specific fanfic, don't worry, I'm still more or less on schedule for it! In fact, this was in front of you anyway, so rejoice!

I'm only queue jumping for Mer-May submissions on these bonus episodes, on days I feel like I can manage writing 2 episodes. Bashing out 2000+ words is tough at the best of times, doing that then trying to do another episode? I might strain something!

[luvo27]

ok ok ok now that my critical thinking skills have been well and truly returned to me (i fully lost all of them when i saw first kristen appearance i will not lie) here are my Not So Great thoughts on the fantasy high webtoon adaption so far:

i had been prepared for wildly different characterization what with it being. a webtoon. i had been prepared for stuff to get cut and streamlined and softened and cutesied and toothless and bland etc etc etc. my first reaction upon hearing that fantasy high was getting adapted, and that it was going to be through webtoon??? crushing disappointment. my expectations? on the ground.

i was also very excited because i can have a great time with terrible things. i was so excited that i did actually go and fast pass all the way to episode 8

the sense of crushing disappointment has been coming and going since then because of the riz main characterness so far. This is something that can change!! there's definitely still time!!! with six main characters and 61 episodes, it's possible that it's going to end up cycling between main characters!!!!!

i don't have it in me to continue reading as it comes out probably. if by episode 20, riz is still the Main Character, i absolutely cannot be in there as it happens. if it doesn't, great!!! if it does.

oh man it is DIFFICULT to articulate how blehhh it would feel. it's like. the same thing as looking at overall fandom trends but instead for officially licensed content with regards to biases.

Does it make the most sense narratively for riz to be the main character, if there had to be one? Sure. but there's no need for him to actually BE the main character, and the story actually suffers for it.

it's just. why does there need to be a main character, and what does making it this specific character say?

aside from riz, you have gorgug who is a transracial adoptee, fabian, who is black, and three girls: Kristen, who comes out as a lesbian in the first season, Fig, who gets a girlfriend in the second, and Adaine.

there's still time for the webtoon to change and give focus to the other characters like riz has been getting so far but my hopes aren't high

look is part of my sensitivity coming from being a batman fan? maybe. i just wasn't expecting to get the same feelings with regards to character treatment here

because it leaves a bad taste in my mouth that Riz is the 'main character' out of this set of characters at the Cost of those other characters. I think giving scenes from a female character to a male character is never a good thing. I think it wouldnt feel nearly as bad if those other characters were not Main Characters themselves before this adaption, but they were, and i hate that the main character for this adaptation is the closest thing to a white boy as the main cast gets.

and obviously it's not intentional. it rarely ever is.

and oh, i know it's not canon and the og series will always be there, that's not the point. i was literally on the other side of this same exact conversation about the batman webtoon like last week.

it's about like. respect.

just. out of all the things that i was preparing myself for with respect to quality? I never thought I'd need to prep for the possibility that the other characters were not also loved, and now I do, and that's really disappointing.

[free-luigi-mangione]

Girl, I hate to say it, but unless you want to discuss luigi the human being (which seems to be taboo because so many people hate when others talk about him in any context but the case) there is really nothing else to discuss right now. Conversation about luigi the person is apparently "fangirling/gossiping" to a lot of people, though. We don't know that much about him and his life; a lot of what we know is conjecture. Unless his friends and family decide to share him with us, we'll never really know him. This is me hoping he writes a damn book.

I'm not trying to dissuade you from discussing luigi the human! I hope you do. Anybody dissuading conversation about luigi as a human is doing far more harm than a fangirl posting his picture and saying how hot he is. I really don't like people telling others how to talk about luigi because most of the positive discourse about him has come from his "fandom," and they're the reason we know so much about him! For every crumb of info we have about him, there is an asshole complaining that we shouldn't be talking about it because it's "irrelevant" and "doing nothing but hurting his case" or whatever. With nearly all social media companies actively censoring luigi content to the point where there is almost nothing but anti-luigi mainstream media posts, the public needs to speak about him as much as possible wherever we can. That includes tidbits about him and his life because learning who luigi is is exciting. It helps keep the momentum going. The man is an enigma, and we are intrigued!

I digress here, but I know that many luigi supporters have migrated to Discord to avoid censorship and the toxic people that are constantly complaining about the luigi content other people post. I have a feeling a lot of luigi tumblr just went to discord instead of dealing with the dozens of hate anons they dealt with every day. This breaks my heart because it minimizes the exposure on other platforms. They're letting the haters win. By telling people not to post certain things about luigi just because they don't like it, claiming shit like it doesn't help his case, we obviously get less and less luigi content, which just sucks for everybody.

i am very ready to talk about Luigi the human but i will not be writing fanfic (i've never written fanfic and i definitely don't want to start now) or speculating about whether he has had mental health issues or not. i also don't want to sit here and judge stupid things he might or might not have done during his college life. because it's really not that deep. it's college life for a reason.

but otherwise, i am very ready to talk about anything else. as long as we remember to talk about him as a fellow human and give him the respect he deserves, i am perfectly okay with it.

i can also talk about how hot i think he is, but i'd like to keep those thoughts to myself. things can go out of hand here really quickly if i linger on that for too long or let others do it. so i'd like to plead the fifth on this. 😔

also talking about Luigi makes sure people remember him and that's honestly a great thing and no damage can come out of it as long as people don't pull the forged letter stunt or the notes in socks stunt. anybody supporting him anyhow are still supporting him and that's great.

also not everything will be helping the case directly, sometimes just keeping Luigi's name and face in the public view will be enough. especially because court dates are gonna be scarce (that's how legal procedures work) and if people forget him, he might actually end up losing his life that way.

[fox-mulder-gets-pegged]

Who up grieving the losses and mourning the ghosts?

[strayrainbow]

For the DTIYS by @ladylunora !!!

It was really fun, Thank you for the challenge!

[folkloregirlfriend]

i hate feeling ambitionless aimless the future is so bleak

[mitamicah]

Not me brainstorming ideas for my post op tattoo (context) like I'd contact the tattoo artist tomorrow and not in a 1,5 year or more

This was where my inspiration took me today I guess :'D

[icewindandboringhorror]

... why he sit like this

[honey-skulls]

The fact that pots and cfs/me is incurable (I'm convinced that that's a lie, just like with "incurable" stuff like cancers, there is possible treatments, but doctors couldn't give less of a fuck about us and thus aren't doing research on what could help us) and this constant song and dance of fighting with parents and doctors to get help or even believed at all and going nowhere. And most importantly, that this is my new forever, and I'll NEVER be able to go back to what i could do only 2 years ago, is finally sinking in

And I'm only fucking 21, 20 when it started

I'm seeing people lamenting about not being able to do what they did in their 20s now, but i haven't even got to try adulthood at all before it got ripped away from me forever

How the fuck am i supposed to keep going knowing that no one will ever understand or give me help, i will constantly get not believed and pushed into crashes by doing the bare minimum, and everything i was planning and excited about doing because of the freedom of adulthood, be it learning new hobbies, travelling somewhere, or just where and how I'd like to move in and live in the future, has to be dumped in the trash

But yeah it's all anxiety in my head. Go take walks, loose weight, drink water, play less video games (i play around 6 hours a week) and go play board games at the public library, they say

Great

This is my new "life"

[guinevereslancelot]

i love christmas yet i'm dreading it bc i can never stop spending soo much money i do not have on little gifts for my friends and family 🥲

[as-dreamers-do]

i have yet to put together an outfit that would at least somewhat blend in at a ren faire without it being a huge boost to my confidence

maybe it's the boots because i can't not stride a certain way in them

but I just feel actually pretty (or at least attractive) when dressed up like that in a way I very seldom do in even my Sunday clothes (though when I incorporate my brown vest into a church outfit that definitely helps xD). not sure what's up with that.

[cuteniarose]

The consequences of my poor financial decisions are here!!