#Dove answered an ask | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr Inc. is funded by 13 investors.

#Dove answered an ask

golswia · 3 months

Note

ur cat and dog aziracrow made me think of bird vers for them, crow-ley and aziraphale as a dove or owl!!!! ur art is adorable

they scream at ur window at 4am for seeds

#thank youuu!#golswia ask #golswia answers after thousand years #BIRDBANDS #good omens #good omens fanart #ineffable husbands #golswia art #golswia #i would draw aziraphale as a goose but i ve already done it sksks #i like the meme aspect of goose aziraphale #but dove az is indeed very cute

2K notes · View notes

katiefrog217 · 1 month

Note

Does Crowley Snake have to unhinge his jaw to show affection to Azirabirb?

This is somewhat irrelevant to the ask, but I'm going to hit you with a snake fact while I'm here:

It is a common misconception that snakes unhinge their jaws to swallow larger prey. Rather, the bones of their lower jaw aren't fused and are connected by a very elastic ligament that allows their jaws to open wider than would normally be allowed!

Now onto the actual point of the ask: if I'm reading this correct, you could be implying that Crowley could be doing some silly nom-nom stuff for affection, but to that I'd have to say no.

In my mind, Snake Crowley shows affection to Azirabirb by wrapping around him, holding him with his wings, and allowing Azirabirb to touch his back and head (snakes can be incredibly shy about having their faces touched, and anywhere near their spine).

Thank you for the ask! Have a little doodle! :DD

#good omens #ineffable husbands #the ineffable husbands #katiefrog217 #Katiefrog217 answers #asks #aziracrow #dove aziraphale #snake crowley #snake facts

237 notes · View notes

wandasaura · 6 months

Note

Dove has her girls wrapped around her finger, so what would an ideal Dove day look like?

— DOVE DAY

warning(s) — pure fluff, headcannon format

ꕤ an ideal dove day consists of cuddles, cuddles, and more cuddles. she’s entirely clear about what she expects from her lovers when they finally have a minute to breathe without mission report deadlines or alien invasions. wanda and natasha don’t have any arguments, content to give love however it wants to be received.

ꕤ they wake dove up with kisses all over her face, lounge in bed until they can’t ignore their grumbling bellies any longer, and even then they stay cuddled up close until wanda chooses to be the responsible one and drags them downstairs and into the kitchen for a homemade breakfast of belgian waffles and eggs. dove sits on the counter dipping her finger into the powdered sugar when she thinks wanda won’t notice, and natasha sneaks her mouthfuls of whipped cream when she’s sure that wanda is looking right at them, smirking teasingly at her younger girlfriend who just rolls her eyes affectionately and holds back her scolding because she can’t deny how cute it is to watch her little dove wriggle around in excitement thinking she’s pulled something over on the all-knowing witch.

ꕤ they eat in the living room, which is a treat in and of itself because wanda is strict about keeping mealtime confined to the kitchen, but today is all about doing what dove wants, so they cuddle up under fluffy blankets and watch whatever movie seems most interesting. dove falls asleep everytime without fail, but she is adamant that it isn’t her fault, how is she means to stay away when her head is in natasha’s lap, her hair being twirled and braided, and her legs are thrown across wanda being tickled and rubbed and massaged. it’s clearly not her fault at all, and wanda and natasha are happy to take the blame, because that was their plan all along, not that their innocent little dove was aware.

ꕤ dove wakes up in the same position she fell asleep in, content to know that she hadn’t been left at any point during her nap, and depending on who’s closer, she sinks into their lap, chest to chest and face to face, smiling with a sleepy daze in her eyes.

ꕤ they stay like that for hours, making light conversation, cracking jokes, fighting off tickles when she’s particularly cheeky, until they get up to make lunch, which is always grilled cheese.

ꕤ natasha cuts dove’s sandwich diagonally, much to wanda’s displeasure because she believes in cutting it straight down the middle, and every time she makes a comment about it, it results in dove and nat rolling their beautiful eyes and calling her weird with teasing smiles. they eat in the kitchen, talking about life and upcoming events, throwing out ideas about how they’re going to spend the rest of the day, just reconnecting and making sure they’re all on the same page.

ꕤ after lunch one particular day, dove decided she wanted to go on a walk. the neighborhood they lived in was relatively quiet, and their neighbors were respectful enough to turn a blind eye when all three of them decided to venture out. they were just normal people doing normal things when they had the chance to be out together, so wanda and natasha agreed, although wanda was adamant that even if it was a dove day, she needed to wear some kind of jacket. dove huffed and stomped toward the closet, mumbling about stupid wind and jackets, much to the amusement of her girlfriends. they knew that she would freeze before she willingly wore a coat, but a sick dove wasn’t something they wanted to see, so wanda didn’t pay much attention to the mini tantrum that was more amusing than anything else.

ꕤ they wonder around for hours, getting lost down deadend streets, stopping at a local florist and picking up a bouquet of daffodils and daisies, taking advantage of every hour of sunlight they had left of the day, not knowing when they’d have this extent freedom again. when the cold became unbearable, and lips were becoming blue, they decided to go back home.

ꕤ wanda put the flowers in a vase while natasha made hot chocolate to warm them up. dove watched them fondly, content with their adventure and just having them both home for the entire day. it didn’t happen as often as she would’ve liked, but she would never blame them for that. she understood their commitments, but that didn’t stop her from wanting more of this.

ꕤ after hot chocolate was made, dinner was eaten, and pajamas were thrown onto warm bodies, they carried out the same routine as they did that morning, watching movies, cuddling on the couch, laughing and joking and just enjoying each others company until eyes were dry and limbs were heavy. so, they climbed the stairs toward their shared bedroom, they went through night routines, and then fell into bed in the same order they’d always kept. dove fell asleep first, then wanda, and natasha watches them both breathe until eventually she lets herself drive off too, already anticipating the next chance they’d have to do this.

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat #wanda maximoff fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #wandanat fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #w: asks #[ ⧗ ] — asks #ld: asks #series: little dove #answered.#𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 ꔫ

244 notes · View notes

inkblot22 · 3 days

Text

Give You Something To Cry About

Yay, my time management skills continue to be straight ass. Sorry to the anon who has waited so patiently for this, and thank you so much for giving me an excuse to write this depraved ball of snot. Headers by @/cafekitsune. Also don't believe everything you see on the internet, there's no scientific proof that certain things work for your skin. I think Vil would know that, considering.

This Fic Is For: Anyone who can handle it! Once again, I tried to make it as gn as possible, considering Rook's use of Franglais, but I'm delusional and will say I did exactly that. Reader is referred to with they/them pronouns, and no real allusions to specific body parts are made for them.

TW for DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, forced dieting, non/dubcon, mentions of death, questionable use of magic, captivity, someone has a case of dacryphilia and a strong sadist streak, won't say who, Rook Hunt because he freaks me out, unhealthy relationship dynamics, abuse, forced BDSM if you squint, I feel so bad for the reader in this one, toxic relationships, possibly OOC characters.

“I am not going to tell you again, my love.” Vil bends down to get in your face, already wearing his ceremonial robe and heels. He points a finger in your face, like you’re a small child or a dog, “If you continue to pick at your skin, I am going to let Rook punish you this time.”

You swallow and look away, and Vil pinches your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pulling your head so you’re looking at him again. His violet eyes bore into you, and you swallow again.

He looks offended, almost, “Well? Have you forgotten basic manners? Speak.”

Your voice sounds dry and weak, “Yes, Vil. I understand.”

He seems satisfied enough with that, moving around as he continues to prepare for whatever school-wide assembly is happening today. He elegantly tucks his hair behind his ear and sighs, scrolling through some page on his phone.

You remain standing where you are, turning your head to look out the window. It’s so pretty outside, but you only get to leave this room whenever Rook is watching you or Vil sends you on an errand. It’s always spring, never too hot, never too cold, but you’re sweating anyway.

Vil approaches you again and tilts your face back so you’re looking at him with a hand on your cheek. His eyes narrow a fraction.

“Your skin doesn’t seem to like this foundation. Make sure you discard it today; I’ll get you a new one.” He bends down again, this time to press a chaste kiss to your lips. He rubs his own together after pulling away and smudges his thumb over your bottom lip, “Hmm. What lipgloss is this?”

Your voice doesn’t sound so dry, but it still doesn’t sound like you, “Uh… The dark red one with the metallic purple? ‘Electric Berry’?

He’s silent for a second, just staring down at your lips as he cups your chin, and then he sighs and turns away, “It’s sticky. I’d tell you to wash your face and reapply your makeup, but that’d be a waste. Make sure you put on lip balm next time.”

You swallow, “Yes, Vil. I understand.”

“I have to get going now. You’d better be at least halfway done with that list by the time I return.” He breezes towards the door and gives you a last, long look. He’s completely silent before he leaves, closing the door behind him.

Your palms ache. You stiltedly wander towards the list pinned in the closet, glad to see it’s not insane today. All you need to do is tidy the bathroom and skim through Vil’s mail to see if it’s anything but hate mail or advertisements. Tack on getting rid of that foundation and that’s it, at least until he returns at lunch.

You relished this time to yourself, even if it was just cleaning or whatever else. Vil always said that motion is good for you, a structure does the mind good. You didn’t care much anymore. As you sat down to search through his mail, finding nothing but the usual hate mail and what appears to be a poem from Rook (why did he even mail that? He’s not even down the hall from this room,) you catch yourself craving something sweet.

The diet Vil has you on sucks. He has assured you that your body is lovely, and he is having you eat like this to help clear your skin, but really you just want something. Anything, you’d even take a breath mint over this lack of junk food. You’re young, what young person doesn’t enjoy gratuitously unhealthy food? A basket of french fries? Ice cream?

You frown to yourself and toss the last of the mail into the recycle bin. You know he’s just going to check it over again anyway, but at least you’re moving around. That’s what he would say.

By the time you’re almost done scrubbing the tub, you hear the door open. You don’t want to go greet him, so you pretend you didn’t hear anything and keep cleaning, making sure to disinfect the non-slip mat that resembles a bunch of ugly gems glued together.

You hear him clicking towards you, and his hand rests on your shoulder, “Going above and beyond today? I have lunch, come eat.”

You school your expression and stand up, pulling off your cleaning gloves and hanging them on the rim of the tub before you follow Vil. He ensconces himself in his desk chair, leaving you to awkwardly lift the stool near his vanity. He hates it when you push the furniture.

He clucks his tongue, not even looking at you, “Lift with your knees, darling. As much as I’d love to massage your back if you pull something, I simply don’t have the time.”

You can’t help it. You shoot him the nastiest glare you can muster as you lift with your knees, right as his eyes flick up to meet yours. You nearly drop the chair as his lips curl into a cold smirk.

“Do you have something to say?”

You hastily shake your head, “No, Vil-”

“Then don’t allow me to see that expression on your face again.” He bites, “Come sit down.”

You put the stool down a little harder than you mean to and take a seat beside Vil at his desk. He passes you your nice little container containing one of several things he gets you- a pile of leafy greens and chopped veggies on a bed of quinoa, fresh fruit, and a murky green smoothie topped with chia seeds.

You don’t like chia seeds. They remind you of frog eggs- a bunch of slimy lumps, sliding down your throat. You accept the straw Vil passes to you and stir the smoothie before eating in silence.

Vil doesn’t mind if you don’t thank him for feeding you. Since he’s keeping you here, it’s pretty much the least he could do. Still, it doesn’t make up for hearing about his boring day.

“This morning’s assembly was complete and utter chaos, as usual.” He muses, sipping his own smoothie. It’s a soft purple. “It’s ridiculous. Those brutes never wear their robes correctly.”

You don’t respond. There’s two reasons: first of all, you don’t care, and secondly, there’s a knock at the door. Vil hums, as though he’s been waiting for someone, and turns to face the door.

“Who is it?”

That boisterous voice you are so used to hearing echoes past the door, “‘Tis I, Roi du Poison. I have come to join you for lunch.”

You can hear the smile in Vil’s voice, “Oh, of course. Come in.”

As Rook walks in, you feel a stab of jealousy in your chest. He takes a breezy seat on the loveseat in front of Vil’s bed and glances at you. You break eye contact and dully pick at your salad.

Vil treats Rook so nicely. He considers his feelings and opinions, although he doesn’t always listen. He speaks to him as though he’s a person. You suppose Vil’s obvious care for Rook trickles down to you in some capacity, but it hurts. Vil claims that the two of you are lovers, but really you’re more like a doll.

“Do you mind meeting me in the lab later on, Rook?”

Rook chuckles from where he is and you cast another glance at him. His eyes meet yours, again, and you look away, again.

“I can always make time for you, beautiful Vil.”

You lamely pick at the fruit, having finished the salad, before you decide to save it for last. You take a sip of your smoothie after stirring it again and openly recoil, trying not to cough. You didn’t smell it, but there must be ginger in there, because there’s a mellow burn alongside the bitterness from the kale. It makes your eyes water and settles in behind your nose.

“Mmm. Something wrong?” Vil smiles at you.

You shake your head, blinking rapidly so you don’t start crying. There’s not enough tears to fall, but taking your chances is stupid, “No, Vil. The ginger just caught me off guard.”

“Oh. My apologies, I should have warned you. I don’t want you catching a cold, and you’ve been a little irregular. The smoothie also has spinach, kale, avocado, chia seeds, and, of course, a little mango.”

You nod and force yourself to smile, taking another sip and soldiering past the rush of that aromatic pain in your sinuses. “Oh, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, darling.” Vil turns away from you to speak to Rook again, “What else did you have planned?”

“I thought I might take a walk. It is a wonderful day, non?” There’s a slight mocking tone to Rook’s voice, “Hardly the type of day to be cooped up all day, hmm?”

Vil furrows his eyebrows as you choke down the last of the smoothie. His voice is curt, “You can say what you mean.”

“Est-ce que je peux? You are not very open to suggestion.”

Vil narrows his eyes at Rook, taking a deep sip of his smoothie before he places it on the coaster sitting upon his desk. He uncrosses his long legs and stands, walking over to sit with Rook on the loveseat. Rook watches him approach with a smile, the same pleasant one he usually wears before he shoots you a beaming grin and turns to look at Vil.

Their conversation is hushed, and you can’t really make out all of what they say. You can hear someone say your name, Vil’s tone swiftly turns vitriolic, then sweetens once more, and Rook chuckles under his breath. When their little meeting is over, Vil walks back over and finishes his smoothie before petting your head like you’re some kind of cat.

His hand strokes the crown of your head, then smooths over your cheek, he cups your jaw and thumbs over the swell of your lip, all while staring at you with a look you cannot read. And then he tilts his head, and smiles.

“Make sure you thank Rook. And you mistook a letter from my father as garbage.”

“Yes, Vil.” You reply obediently, “Sorry, Vil.”

He smiles. Your palms ache, and you have to bite back the urge to move, to peel at your cuticles or scratch the sides of your fingers.

“I’ll see you in class, Rook.” Vil says politely before he tilts your face up and pecks you on the lips.

You’re left alone with Rook. He doesn’t get up, not yet. You remain where you are, looking at your slippers. You hear Rook stand up and discard his garbage. You can feel him come up to stand behind you.

“Has today been particulièrement difficile? My poor dear… You seem so sad today.” His arms wrap around you, looping them around your shoulders so they warm your collarbones like a scarf and he can rest his cheek against the back of your head. You hear him take a deep breath in.

With Vil, you don’t even try to speak anymore. You know he won’t really listen to you, because he knows better than you… But with Rook, as long as you wait a moment to make sure he is done speaking, he welcomes and even encourages you to speak your mind.

Your breath hitches and you swallow, “Uh, I mean… I guess I’m just having a bad day. It’s really been the same as usual.”

“Hmm.” Rook hums, completely devoid of emotion. You feel him turn his face so his nose is buried in your hair. He presses a kiss against your hair and sighs, “Ah, yes, the monotony of life is très épuisant, mmm?”

You wait for a second, then deliberately don’t answer the question in favor of asking your own, “Um, he said I should thank you?”

“Perhaps you should ask why more clearly. I have convinced our very own Vil to allow me to arrange a surprise for you.” Rook removes himself from your back and turns you around to face him, “And thus, I believe I have earned a kiss from you.”

“Wait, what?” You don’t get time to really back away or tell him to explain, as Rook squishes your cheeks with one of his gloved hands until your lips part.

His grip isn’t as harsh as Vil’s, but this is still something that only happens when you’re in more trouble than usual, so you involuntarily wince and close your eyes, cowering away from Rook as he dips his tongue into your mouth and slithers it between your teeth.

It is very easy to like Rook. He is passionate, and he’s far more kind to you than your supposed lover is. He’s intelligent and has an adonis-like form, and if not for the taste of blood on his tongue from whatever he ate for lunch or the grip he has on your face, maybe you would enjoy this kiss. But the big issue is that Rook honestly frightens you a little.

It’s absolutely not his fault, not entirely. Upon first meeting him, it was hard to tell if he was being genuine. He’s difficult to read, as he is often wearing the same set of expressions and his tone is always a bit melodramatic.

His hand releases your face to clamp around the base of your head, his tongue twisting in your mouth, pressing against the crevices in your teeth.

Not only is Rook hard to read, he is also uncannily observant and will not hesitate to ask somewhat invasive questions about his observations. The fact that he dresses in a way that conceals his mass is also disconcerting, as you were unaware that he had such a build until you saw him roll up his sleeve one time. You were aware Vil could do a lot of damage, but that was the day you realized that Rook was capable of doing about as much as Vil, if not more.

He purrs into your mouth, the vibrations feeling oh-so-wrong, and his other hand clamps down on your shoulder. He sucks your tongue into his mouth. It’s not a good feeling, as he is literally stealing what little air is in your mouth. When you feel something feather light flutter against your lashes and cheek, you feel a bit confused for just a moment, not even a second, before you realize that Rook just blinked. His eyes are open.

He pulls away and sighs, almost dreamily. You suppress your distressed sputtering, holding your breath as Rook stares at you.

“Ah, enough time has passed. I will need to leave you, mon lapin. Thank you for indulging me; your kiss was divine and tasted sweeter than the finest fruits!” He presses something into your palm and adjusts his hat before he casts you a wave and shuts the door.

You stand there, your lips drying out from the saliva left on them and your cheeks feeling a little odd from the way he was holding your face. You’re processing, because, ever as always, Rook is simulated spontaneity. So many things just happened, and you don’t…

You blink a few times and look down at your aching palm stupidly. The crimson cellophane crinkles as you unclench your fist. He gave you a piece of candy.

Just looking at it makes you start crying. One second you’re staring wide-eyed at the little lump of sugar, and the next your vision is blurring and you’re crying off your makeup, plump tears cascading down your face. Your nose begins to run and you sniffle. You can’t find it in yourself to sob, because you’re mostly certain that these are happy tears.

Unfortunately, you can’t eat the candy now. If you threw the wrapper away, Vil would notice it in the garbage and you’d get in trouble for “breaking your diet plan.” So you hide it in the very back corner of the drawer of Vil’s armoire. You’ll be tidying it on your own anyway, and Vil never reaches all the way into the back of it.

Once your tears have stopped, you stand up and go back to cleaning the bathroom. It’s spotless and smells like lavender and lemons about an hour before Vil gets back, so you decide to skim one of the books on the shelves.

It’s not long before you’re bored with that as well. You carefully put the book back and wander over to the lattice window, staring out of it. The window, paired with your usual low mood, made you sort of feel like a bird in a very ornate cage.

From where you are, about three stories up, you notice a familiar figure notching an arrow before he unnotches it and takes a knee. You blandly spectate as he fiddles with the bow.

Partway through him notching the arrow again, you see his hat tilt. He’s far away enough that you can’t see his eyes, but you can feel his stare. His gloved hand bends his brim and you jerk away from the window, only to bump into someone.

You don’t get to shriek, as a hand clamps over your mouth. It’s just Vil, but you don’t relax yet as he drags you towards the bed and deposits you there.

“How many times must I tell you to stay away from the window?”

He’s never once told you to stay away from the window. Not as far as you can recall, at least. Your lips tremble and you decide it’d be more wise to keep silent.

Vil glares down at you and you feel the rest of your body start to tremble. His lips curl into a displeased sneer, “You didn’t wash your face after crying?”

“N-no, Vil-”

“We do not stutter.” Vil hisses, bending to get in your face. He stares at you for a moment before standing straight again, “Speak up.”

You swallow and clench your hands into fists, “No… Vil. I… got rid of the foundation like you, um… asked me to. I wouldn’t have been able to redo-”

“Alright. Go wash your face.” Vil interrupts you again.

You jump up and rush into the bathroom, going through your skincare routine. You can feel Vil staring at you, your skin crawling under his gaze. As you rub moisturizer into your skin, Vil finally says something.

“Did Rook do something to you, darling?” His tone is soft, tentative.

You glance at him, blinking a few times. What does he mean by ‘something’? He did do something, but it wasn’t bad, or particularly different.

“Um… Not exactly.” You say, massaging your forehead.

“I see. What did he do?”

You look down at the sink. You’re not saying anything about the candy. “Rook kissed me?”

“That should not be a question.” Vil says. You see him shake his head through your peripheral, “Would you like to change your clothes before I redo your makeup?”

You’d like to ask what he’s talking about, but instead, you look down at your clothing. You don’t have a proper Pomefiore uniform because you’re not a part of this dorm. You’re an interloper- or a caged bird.

You don’t know what to do here. You don’t want to say something wrong and unintentionally offend Vil. Your palms ache. You give him a confused look from where you are.

He doesn’t look impressed, but before he can say anything about you gaping at him, you speak up, “What… am I supposed to do?”

You’ve only seen Vil surprised a few times. He raises his eyebrows and looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads, then sighs, “Well, I suppose I’d like to see you in something else. I’ll choose your outfit.”

That’s nothing new, he always does that. You wait in the bathroom for him to return. He strolls back in with a mockery of the Pomefiore uniform. There’s a deep purple cloak and capelet, which Vil drapes on the bed before handing you the actual clothes. It’s a very ruffled dress shirt, the long, puffy sleeves cinched into more ruffles at the wrist paired with a pair of black bloomer-style shorts. The buttons are all white and gold, marbled together.

Vil leaves the bathroom and you change, neatly tucking your previous clothing away in the hamper. When you leave, as usual, Vil picks at your clothing, making sure it looks as good on you as he pleases, and then he steers you to sit down.

For however vicious he can be, Vil can be oddly gentle. For every time he grabs you roughly, his touch is feather-light ten more times. He hums a soft tune as he puts light makeup on you, just your eyes and lips, and then he drapes the cloak around your shoulders and places his hands on his hips.

“You look lovely. Go put on the pair of gold boots with the black decals.”

You do as told. He very likely wants to just take pictures of you or something so he can ask that Mira app about it.

Except when you stop in front of him, he doesn’t tell you to go sit in the loveseat or on the table near his window, no, he scoops you up and presses his forehead against your jaw.

“Oh, when did you put on this cologne? What a ravishing smell on you.” He presses a kiss on the column of your throat and breezes out of his dorm room's door.

Almost immediately, you go limp in his arms, like a doll. He never gave you explicit verbal permission to leave this room, so the curse he placed on you when he decided you should be his smashes into you like a giant wave at the beach.

Vil carries you all the way outside and looks at your face, then happily struts along the path behind the dorm. Since you can’t turn your head, you can only go off of the view of Vil’s neck and chin, the sky, and whatever you can hear.

“Ah, I am glad to see you did not change your mind, Roi du Poison. J'aurais été très déçue et triste pour notre chéri.” You hear Rook say.

You can almost feel Vil get a mite warmer, “Yes, well. Hand me the basket. Since you want to make out with them and make them cry, you get to carry them as an apology.”

Rook happily scoops you out of Vil’s arms, giving you a cloying look as he strolls along. He and Vil chat as they walk, something not really worth listening in on, just boring musings about class and “this teacher did x” or “that student did y”. An insect lands on your cheek and you are incapable of batting it away or expressing your discomfort. Its legs tickle the peach fuzz on your face and you remain still, like a corpse.

Rook slides you into a seated position, posing you like a toy before shooing the bug off of your face. Now you can see that you’re in a clearing in the woods, seated on a picnic blanket. There’s a few lanterns staked into the ground, and Rook and Vil are busy with whatever is on the floor. You can’t look down, so your best guess is that it’s a picnic.

Vil leans over and snaps in your face, smiling kindly at you, “Now. If I release you, you are not going to run. You are not going to so much as consider running. We are going to have a nice picnic with no shenanigans from you.”

You can’t nod, so you just stare at him, trying to telepathically communicate.

He looks pleased enough, “Wonderful. I give you permission to leave our room.”

Your muscles relax and you look back, finding that you’re leaned against a log. The picnic spread is very nice, as well. It looks like finger sandwiches. You’re not expecting to get to eat one, as you haven’t had bread since Vil switched up your diet. Vil passes something to you.

“Oh.” You mumble, staring at the plate Vil hands you.

It’s a sandwich. A very wonderful looking sandwich, cut into triangles and with the crusts still on. You blink at it a few times and look back up at Vil.

“Don’t expect this to be a pattern. This is a treat for good behavior.”

You look back down, “Yes, Vil.”

“There’s no need to remind them. They’re being obedient.” Rook’s voice is more firm than you expected to hear him ever speak. Usually his tone is buoyant, and you’ve never seen him outright pick a fight with Vil like this.

“Please. You give anyone an inch, they’ll take a mile.” Vil cuts back, then turns to you and pets your head like a dog or a cat again, “Eat your food, beautiful.”

You take a bite. Bread is just as good as you remember it. The air feels thick, like you’re in a bubble as Vil and Rook communicate through eye contact alone. Before you know it, your sandwich is gone and your hands are covered in crumbs. Rook, still staring at Vil with that happy little smile, wipes your hands and places a glass in your hands. Whatever is in it smells sweet. You take a tentative sip.

Were it Vil, you would have never drank whatever this is. It kind of tastes like a mellow mixed berry juice. It’s very pleasant, actually. Better than the potion Vil used to lace your food and drinks with. You smile into the cup and Vil snatches it from you.

He takes a sip and frowns, handing it back, “Mmm. I have an even better surprise.”

Rook pulls your legs into his lap and gently kneads your calves as you watch Vil rifle through the picnic basket. What is happening? You sip your juice and Vil produces a triangular container. He places a fork on top and hands it to you.

You finish the last of your juice and accept the box, looking conspiratorially at Rook. Something you can’t put your finger on dances in his eyes and he digs his thumb into your shin a little strongly. You flinch and cautiously open the box. It’s a piece of fluffy white cake, with even fluffier meringue and an uncannily perfect cherry wedged into it.

You look at Vil, expecting some kind of trick. Not that he’s ever done that before, usually he’d just take it from you or make some snide comment, things like that, but he and Rook are acting really strange today,

“I know how much you long for junk food, so I spent some time after club activities today whipping up some angel food cake. It’s got agave instead of sugar so it won’t completely break your diet and your skin won’t suffer as much.”

Yeah, this is weird. The cake is good, though, it’s fluffy and sweet. You pace your bites so that Vil won’t make a comment and you can savor this. You can feel both of their eyes on you and it makes your skin crawl.

You lower the cake box and look at Vil, who looks a bit offended for just a second. The fleeting expression is replaced by a pleased little grin, the mauve lipstick making the curve of his lips all the more sinister in the dimming light.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, Vil.” You glance at the cake and then back at him, “I’m… I’m sorry, I’m a little confused.”

“Why?” Rook asks.

Your shoulders jerk as you turn your head to look at him. You weren’t expecting him to say anything. His chest swells in what appears to be a suppressed chuckle as he squeezes your knee. It seems his hands have climbed.

“Uh…” You swallow, “This is just… not what I’m used to.”

“The cake?” Vil looks hurt. Why does he look hurt?

You shake your head rapidly, “No! Oh- No, Vil. I… It’s just been so long since I’ve been out here…”

“Do you want to go inside, chéri?” Rook murmurs.

You do, but you also don’t really want to risk sounding ungrateful. Being outside has stressed you out more than you’d like to admit. You’re not really sure what to do because Vil has you trained like a dog, and none of what he’s hammered into you involves picnics. You’re scared.

Rooks eyes narrow as you just stare at him. Your chest hurts from how hard your heart is throbbing, and on the other side of you, Vil sighs.

“Well, I’ll start cleaning up, then. When we get back, I expect you to take a seat on the bed.”

That sounds like what happens every time you get in trouble. A terror shudders through you and your eyes water a bit as you gnaw on your lip. Your palms ache as you fight to keep from picking at your cuticles. Vil packs up everything and Rook offers you a princely hand to help you up.

You can feel the calluses on his hands through his gloves as he essentially lifts you to your feet. You keep between Rook and Vil as you walk back to the dorm.

It’s quiet, since everyone else is winding down for bed. For a moment, you think you spot Epel, but you’re not sure. It doesn’t matter anyway. None of your old friends talk to you anymore. Not since Vil started having eyes for you.

Just as you were told, after taking off your boots you take a seat on the bed and retrieve the silver ruler from the side-table’s drawer. You place it beside you as you look down at your feet. You look down at the streaky bruises on the lighter skin on your palms and try not to start crying. It’s always worse when you cry.

He adds smacks by twos. Depending on what you did, you start with four or six, and then any time you flinch or pull away or make a loud noise, he adds two more. Last time, you spilled one of his nail polishes, and after watching you clean it up, you ended up getting ten lashes.

At least Rook didn’t do it then. He tries to make it quick but that just makes it hurt more. A tear slips down your cheek.

You don’t even know what you did. You tap the tear track dry with one fingertip and Vil and Rook fully enter the room.

“Why is the ruler out?” Vil asks, and then his voice goes sharp, “Are you crying?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Vil.” You sob.

“I don’t know why.” He grabs the ruler and shoves it away before you can raise your hands, “Go wash your face.”

You stand up and shakily do as told, returning to sit on the bed. Vil goes into the bathroom after you and Rook takes a seat next to you, his hand on your shoulder.

He smiles at you, rubbing your shoulder, “You are très précieux, chéri.”

You look at him in a state of hollow bewilderment as he brushes his cheek against yours and presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear.

You hear the bathroom door close and a tired sigh from Vil, “Do you have no patience?”

Your head jerks to look at VIl, “Rook is…?”

“Yes, he’s joining us tonight.” Vil plucks the loop of his sleeve from his middle finger and loosens his belt. You get the feeling that the next words he says aren’t for you, “Well, go ahead.”

You feel Rook’s chuckle more than you hear it. With his lips against your neck, his hands begin to slide. The hand on your shoulder rests on the nape of your neck and his other hand slides down to your thigh, then up to your waist. You try not to cringe against his touch, but it’s difficult.

His hand slides down again as he trails his teeth against the back of your ear. His thumb hooks in your pants and starts yanking them down. You outright flinch.

“Wait-”

“Relax, darling.” Vil mumbles, hanging his clothing in the armoire.

You try. You absolutely try. Rook throws your bloomers aside and rests his hand on your lower belly for a moment. He sighs into your ear and reaches up to unclasp your buttons.

You feel stiff. You want to push him away but you can’t move. It’s as though your body is frozen. It’s not due to a curse, so the only possible solution is that you’re quite literally scared stiff.

He pulls away your shirt and glances at Vil, “Are you prepared?”

“Please.” You can hear the smile on Vil’s lips as Rook turns back and kisses you again, his hand smoothing along your collarbone and shoulders.

Your underwear is the next to go. Of course it is. You fight to keep from breathing oddly, because you’re aware that if you pass out, Vil will get annoyed.

“Mmm.” The devil’s hand glides up your back and you fight back a shudder as Rook leans you backwards into his arms. “How are you feeling, darling?”

You’re honest, “I’m scared.”

“I thought you would say that.” Vil freely manhandles you, shifting you so you’re leaned chest to chest. He slides something off of the side table and passes it behind you, then cups your cheek, “You would save a lot of time and stress if you’d just learn to trust me.”

“I…” You hate him. You hate him so much. He keeps you here like a pet, and you don’t know how he’s supposed to expect you to treat him like a lover when he treats you the way he does.

Before you can articulate an answer that pleases Vil, a wicked burn besets your sphincter and you clench your jaw.

Vil’s voice is sharp, “Rook, please.”

You hear Rook make a noise underneath the harsh sound of blood rushing in your ears and your own heavy panting. Something cool oozes around the ring of your ass and you press your face against Vil’s chest. His robe is lazily tied, which is not particularly like him, and you can see his cock poking out where the fabric separates. You let out a strangled noise and Vil shushes you, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Relax. I know, you weren’t prepared. Relax.” Vil soothes.

“I don’t mind if you remain tense, chéri. Mon plaisir n'en est que plus grand. And your little cries and whimpers sont terriblement mignons.” Rook mumbles behind you.

Rook is better than Vil in most areas, but once he gets his dick inside of you, it’s as though he forgets to be caring and kind. The tables flip, with Vil acting the part of a caring lover and Rook becoming a sadistic bully. You let out a ragged sob as Rook rolls his hips and Vil hisses something that you don’t quite catch.

It almost sounded like he was telling Rook to slow down. That very well could have been the case, as Rook eases back a bit and only shallowly thrusts.

Vil continues petting you, coaxing you so your cheek is pressed against his thigh. He is always a perfect warm. He is always perfect, so it sort of makes sense, but his skin is a pleasant temperature. He feels alive, a perfectly human temperature that tells you he’s breathing and his heart is beating. As he fingers through your hair, Rook gives a harsher than usual thrust and you cry out.

“Rook, if you’re impatient then you’re going to hurt them, and neither of us have the time to take care of them all day.” Vil chides, and then his tone softens as he rubs the space between your shoulders, “Are you ready for me as well, darling?” “What…?” You ask, blearily. Somewhere in the back of your awareness, you know what he wants, but you can feel Rook’s thrusts growing impatient and seeing as you weren’t given any prep, you’re in a bit too much shock to think straight.

“Mmm… You’re awfully cute but I need you to be a bit more lucid.” Vil snaps in your ear and resumes his petting, “This isn’t the first time, sweetheart. I’m not going to hold your hand.”

The soft tip of his member spreads his pre like lipgloss against your lips. As you shakily open your mouth, you figure you’re lucky that Vil doesn’t have a chaotic, unhealthy diet like Leona or Ace, that he doesn’t drink coffee for fun or often like Deuce does. The taste of his skin is lightly floral and dominantly human, likely thanks to the body lotion he applies daily.

He hisses and presses against your forehead, “Ah-ah. You’re taking enough from Rook. Just the tip for me is fine.”

From behind, you hear Rook grumble under his breath, “Je n'en peux plus de cette merde…”

“Watch your- unf- watch your language, Rook.” Vil snarls, massaging the nape of your neck as you carefully lave your tongue over his glans.

Rook’s patience breaks, his hands clamping down on your waist, just above your hips. You have the sense to pull Vil’s cock out of your mouth as Rook begins battering into you.

As much as you feel okay about Rook, he is not a doting lover by nature. He’s mean and brutal, chasing his climax, and only after he cums does he bother to think about you or your needs. Your palms ache as you grab Vil’s member and gently tug on it. Vil flinches and snaps at you to get your attention.

You look to the side and for a second, as the pain ebbs, you assume you’re having an out of body experience, and then you realize that you’re staring into his vanity mirror. Rook’s hair exaggeratedly sways with his motion. He removed his hat but just haphazardly displaced the rest of his clothing. He’s not smiling, he’s making some sort of smug expression.

It’s funny. As Vil is satisfied with you weakly jerking him off, his touch gentle, Rook is wild on your other end. Every time you just barely begin to relax, he thrusts harder, which makes you tense and a spike of pain batters through you.

You endure as best you can. You endure every day, enduring through eating the same unfulfilling food, enduring through walking on eggshells around Vil, enduring getting your palms beaten to hell for the most human of errors, so what’s getting sodomized in the face of everything else you can handle?

You bite back a shriek as a harsh pinch on your bottom, followed by a smack administered by Rook. He leans down and blows in your ear, snickering as he leans back, “I thought you had given up the ghost for a second there.”

Vil sucks in a breath and you quietly mumble against his thigh.

“Hmm? I didn’t hear you, mon chou.” Rook’s voice is almost mocking, like before.

“P-please… Rook, I can’t-”

“You can. You’ll live.” He grunts, the steady clap of your ass against his body punctuating his statement.

“It hurts.” You sniffle. You’re not particularly prone to crying, but, then again, Rook and Vil usually prepare you before deciding to fuck your ass.

You sob and Rook’s grasp tightens on your waist, a ragged moan punching out of his chest. He pulls your body flush to his and jerks his hips into you, drilling a bit harder for all of four or five thrusts. And then he’s no longer on you, and you feel your body getting shifted so your head is still in Vil’s lap but you’re lying prone.

You tilt Vil’s dick down to massage the head with your tongue and something warm drips on your back. You hear a noise of disgust from Vil, capped by a quiet moan.

“Absolutely not. All three of us are getting in the tub if you don’t clean that up right now.”

Rook chuckles and coos, “Hmm, but it looks so lovely. My alabaster essence creates a wonderful contrast with their soft and supple skin.”

A flush of humiliation crawls up the back of your neck and you hide your face against Vil’s belly, using your own arm to hide the other half. Vil shudders as he pushes your head down a bit, but his voice sounds incredulous.

“That’s vile. It doesn’t have any proven health benefits, you know that.”

You felt Rook’s hands spreading his semen into the skin on your back and your palms ache as Vil cums in your mouth. He doesn’t do that often, so it hits you like a shock.

You gag but force it down and Vil shoots up, fretting over you.

“Did you just swallow that?” He bends down to look into your eyes.

“Yes, Vil.”

“You didn’t need to do that.” Vil snips, sounding much harsher than he might intend, “I’m going to run us a bath, alright, darling? I’ll make sure you can brush that icky stuff out of your mouth.”

It didn’t taste bad. Vil usually cums on your face as an incentive for you to wash your face very well after a day of wearing makeup, or he has you jerk him off until he cums, but the few other times you did taste it, it was the same as this time. It was mostly salty, not too bitter, likely from his good diet. Regardless, he breezes away and Rook gives your bottom a light tap. You stand up and glance at Rook, who is looking a bit disheveled but pretty pleased with himself.

“How are you feeling, cheri?”

“That hurt.” Your voice is quiet, and your throat is still lined with tears.

“Does it still hurt?” He smiles and tilts his head.

The sound of the tub running is thunderous even where you are. Vil would never tolerate you complaining, but Rook is amicable, “A little.”

“The bath will do you good, then. Come.”

You let Rook guide you into the bathroom, his hand on your elbow. As he undresses and joins Vil on the edge of the tub, you look down at your bruised hands and glance at the slowly closing bathroom door, then at Rook and Vil where they stand near the tub.

You can’t say you prefer either of them, really, but you don't get an opinion. Do dolls at tea parties get to ask for a different kind of tea?

54 notes · View notes

alittleloveddove · 3 months

Note

Repeat "I'm deeply hypnotized" and with each repetition, you feel yourself slipping more and more until you just drop.

That made me feel all warm and melty…💕

Thank you, anon.

#a wild dove appears #dove #hypnosis #hypnok1nk #trance #mantra #hypnotized girl #eye rolls #anon asks #asks and answers

128 notes · View notes

thegreathuxton · 6 months

Note

Pillow talk, please.

Anything for you, nonny. 🥰

(18+ AGED UP CHARACTERS)

DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. (You have been warned)

Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

The talking always starts before you even reach the bed.

Lockwood is a gentleman, so he'll keep it discreet and won't do anything too risky.

But, man, your face will be all red by the time he gets his hands on you.

Once you're alone, he is absolutely filthy.

He really does keep it quiet. He doesn't want anyone but you to hear him, and he wants no one but him to hear you.

Super big on praise. If you don't like being called a good girl, get out.

He's always up against your ear or has his forehead pressed to yours, staring into your eyes and watching your expressions as he moves.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey," he says in rapid repetition. "Don't hide. Let me look at you..."

He grabs your wrists and slowly brings them away from your chest and places them above your head. He keeps them there with one large hand. "That's it, sweetness. Good girl..."

He presses a soft kiss to your lips and then lets his hand trail down to your chest. He takes one mound and palms it almost greedily.

"Prettiest tits I've ever fucking seen," he mutters against the skin of your neck. "Can't understand why you'd want to hide 'em from me." His hand keeps moving, trailing down to your warm cunt and sliding two fingers between the lips. Your back arches. He grins. He lets one of your hands go free but keeps the other right where it is, above your head. "Put your fingers down there for me," he whispers in your ear, teeth grazing your lobe. "Spread those lips nice and wide. Lemme see your pretty pussy... That's it... nice and easy, hm? Fuck, we'll have to wash these sheets tomorrow. You're dripping like a faucet."

Your fingers have replaced his, and you've spread the lips wide open. He leans back and gazes down at it, smirking.

"This beautiful body," he murmurs, "it's all mine, isn't it? Say it for me..."

You repeat what he wants. He's pleased enough. He slides his middle and ring finger into your entrance, all the way to the knuckle. You moan, and he places his hand over your mouth gently, of course.

"I'm gonna make you come on my fingers, alright?" He says and places a kiss on your forehead. "Just lay back and relax for me, love. This will only take a few moments..."

#HAVEN’T WRITTEN SMUT IN A HOT SECOND HOO #dead dove do not eat #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood/reader #anthony lockwood and you #anthony lockwood/you #ask answered #anon ask #anon smut

123 notes · View notes

thekrows-nest · 20 days

Note

O WIMMDY OF THE LAKE, I SEEK YOUR WISDOM

A thought

What if say Krow(My beloved) were to get the big ol' jealous angy ye? Eyes green n all that

And Dove's just like "You have such pretty eyes"

Because their favorite color may or may not be green

Asking for a friend

The friend is me

Self love is important uvu

I am wondering just what in the world happened for him to like, get jealous to the point his eyes turn fully green. It'd have to be something major. Like major major.

But I digress.

You may be disappointed to learn that the moment you tell him that, the eyes would go back to being the normal violet color pretty quickly. Just "Hwa-- I, y-you think so Dove? ...T-thank you."

Also he'd be confused if you tell him about the whole eye color changing thing. Krow isn't exactly in front of a mirror really when it happens lmao.

#the krow's nest #krow asked and answered #krow in character #dove aviary

32 notes · View notes

anon-polls-for-you · 4 months

Note

For all of my Professor Layton fans, choose your favorite character!

Professor Hershel Layton

Luke Triton

Emmy Altava

Flora Reinhold

Claire Foley

Clive Dove

I have no favorite character

None of the above/other

Results

#anonymous polls for you #asked and answered #professor layton #character poll #media poll #hershel layton #flora reinhold #emmy altava #claire foley #luke triton #clive dove

43 notes · View notes

beyondthetemples · 2 months

Note

💭what about killing . but the person who dies is a really , really bad person . Like serial killer bad ( throwing one more in the hat . If you don't want to do another one, I understand . This is something Caleb does, so it felt right to write it in character as well . Lol )

Dove flinched like the question would hurt her.

And in many ways, it did.

"Killing hurts." She spoke the words harshly, as if they would choke her if she didn't get them out. "Do you know what it's like to die?"

Every death Dove had ever felt was a murder, a pointless sadistic thievery of innocent lives. A broken neck, bleeding to death, the instant immolation of a thousand people at once...

All of her worst memories hinged on death, death, death. And she'd shared the experience. The electric jolt, and the slow fading, and the searing heat of incineration--

Azar, just thinking about it made her sick.

She shook her head, hard. "Does it matter who they are? Killing is killing. They're dead. Gone. And you killed them."

And you never forgive herself.

At least, she never did.

#{{ This was a really good one!#Dove answered an ask #cyberninja

1 note · View note

romana-after-dark · 6 months

Note

Interesting how your dead dove December has stipulations based on incest, beastiality, and underage. So some dark content is permitted, but not other? It seems like you’re picking which dark content is ‘appropriate’… almost like that’s the content you romanticize and justify…

Yes, some content is permitted and other are not. We are allowed have rules.

I think really the only thing to say here is it's *my event*

There's lots to discuss as far as limits and what dark is okay and what isn't blah blah blah, and that's fine. You can debate back and forth on what should be censored and what shouldn't, what's okay to fanticise about and what isn't, but I'm not making this judgement.

However, I am reading everything for this event, I am reblogging everything, and I will be putting everything on a masterlist. all these fics will be tied to be.

Call me crazy that I don't want my name tied to underage content.

I am well aware that there is a certain group that really hates my work. I am aware that several people have told me The Wrong Way is the darkest Joel they've ever read, both as a compliment and as a insult. I've been called psychotic for that series. And that's fine. Joel *is* romanticized by little one, and that comes out in the writing as its from her POV. Yeah, I get that TWW, Blessed be the Fruit, Guard Dog, ETC romanticze abuse, rape, violence etc. Sure.

But this is my event.

I am comfortable with non con, vore, monsterfucking, step-cest, watersports, self harm ETC.

I am not comfortable with beastiality, incest, or underage.

We can go back and forth about censorship or what should and shouldnt be allowed, fantesy vs. reality and all that, but ultimately, I am allowed to draw lines for my personal comfort.

If you have a problem with my dark content, you can tell me why and what your issues are. Thats fine. But being mad at me for having boundaries is strange.

#deaddovedecember2023 #dead dove december #dead dove do not eat #anon asks #romana answers asks

55 notes · View notes

prince-liest · 3 months

Note

Your last 666 series installment is the best thing that happened to me. Its full of gore, somehow fluffy and wait-.. do I finally see some FRICKING COMUNICATION between the two idiots!?!?!

Ngl, Vox's 'Alastor not being able to love' statement hurt my soul. Your writing is brilliant and and let's just see what ending ya wro-..O MA LORD IS THAT VAL'S LOVE POTION!?!?!?!?

Now I need to know what's next!!!! And VOX I SWEAR IF U USE THIS SITUATION IN ANY WAY IM GOING TO SKIN YOU ALIVE.

This series is a blast♡ love it!♡ makes me weirdly passionate and excited hah!

Some communication, and some communication failure, hahaha. They're going to be talking a lot more in the next one, actually, because I meant to write some NSFW and they had to go and attempt a healthy conversation instead. What can you do.

Thank you so much, I'm delighted that you're enjoying! :D

And: Way more anon asks about the latest 666 getting answered under the cut! <3 I combined a bunch from the last couple of days.

prince, I'm going insane over the latest fic. so we know from Alastor's inner monologue that he knows the roofie was an accident, but considering the super stressful situation, the fact that Vox was the one to ask for a kiss and the fact that Alastor accused him of wanting instead of loving him not a few minutes ago…. makes me wonder if Vox might not be at least a little worred that Alastor might think it was on purpose <3 gonna be rotating this in my head for the foreseeable future - ✨

I am so glad that these things are on y'all's minds, hahaha. Because you can bet they are on mine. >:D And THANK YOU, very pleased to be dragging everyone down into insanity with me.

“Should I stitch together the scars your teeth left in me in a mirror of my own signature on your body.” Fucking. POETRY. 🐈‍⬛

I am always so happy when I write shit like this and instead of everyone pointing at me and going, "Look, what an EDGELORD!" the response is you people being VERY nice and leaning into the feelsy fun! 💛

holy moly ??? i love the new 666 addition aaaah 😭🙏 the trials and tribulations of feeling scorned and ghosted by a loser who confessed his love to you and the next time you see him he’s holding your LITERAL heart in his hands by alastor ! OMFG this was too good esp the part where vox is like “bro why do YOU CARE ?? i thought you didn’t love me huh?” and alastor is like well. maybe i.do. 😐 LIKE CMONN this really played out like some soap drama and i loved the neat details on resuscitative thoroctomy (learned a new word too so double bonus) the fact vel was on the line w her and val’s apparent surgeon for val’a little ‘incidents ??? GOLDEN I SAYY hope we see more of ur oc … 🫣🫣 btw ofc vox would love to an end an argument with a kiss OF FUCKING COURSE HE WOULD 😭 thank u sm for this chapter princeliest my dear <3 hope life is treating u well too !! -🦌

Vox is ahead of Alastor in terms of effective in-the-moment conflict resolution, but goddamn if he isn't fucked up in his own fun little ways. They're so not done with most of these issues, but at least they're on they're way to maybe be able to have a real conversation about them!

You know. If they chose to do that kind thing. Instead of whatever they will probably do instead.

Anyway, THANK YOU!! I had a great deal of fun writing this chapter and digging into some of the issues that have been slowly collecting underneath the surface of kinky radiostatic, so I'm happy you guys are enjoying as well!! :D

AS FOR MY OC... I WILL POST ABOUT THEM SOON. I LOVE THEM A LOT AND IT EXCITES ME THAT PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW MORE OF THEM. Tysm for asking Q^Q

Just read the new addition to the 666 verse, and inside of me are two wolves: The first is saying: Immaculate, artistry of the highest form. We finally get Alastor’s own confrontation with his vulnerability and him trying to figure out what exactly the relationship with Vox means to him. Cannot wait for how this all is going to develop. The other part of me: THE BREADCRUMBS WORKED THE MUSE IS WRITING!!! Followed by this image (since tumblr won’t let me attach it while being anonymous) https://i.redd.it/hx2shk642vs71.jpg -🕊️

LMAO THAT PIC. Amazing, flawless, thank you. The breadcrumbs DEFINITELY worked, please keep feeding. Digging into Alastor's shit is bringing me life and I'm happy to share it, hahaha. We're swinging even harder on the introspection in the next one!

As a sucker for medical gore and aroace angst, I lack the words to express my love and appreciation for your most recent installment of 666, but your writing of radiostatic's dynamic was captivating and proved to be such a lovely read as always! I loved that you touched on Alastor's relationships with the women around him as that has always been such an interesting aspect of his character to me! I never really put much thought into how Vox's apparent avoidance of Alastor in the show could mirror Alastor's disappearance, and now it will Not leave my mind. My heart hurts for these two dorks, super looking forward to chapter 2!

"Medical gore and aroace angst" should be the title of my memoir. Honestly, this series has ended up a lot more edgy-bloody than I expected it to, since I usually tend to prefer to portray my whump/angst/violence/etc in a much more roundabout way, but it's actually kinda tipped over into, like... part of the point is how banal it is, how beside the point. The upsetting heavy-hitting bits aren't the blood, they're everything else that goes on around it. Anyway, thank you so much! <3 I think your heart will find some relief in chapter two, haha, I hope you enjoy!!

Meanwhile alastor, completely convinced that there’s no situation where vox actually loves him and is happy with the way things are—either vox wants more and is going to start asking for more, or he doesn’t actually love him and just wants to have sex with him and thus either way he is a Liar. They’re so fucking bad at this. No one is capable of being the adult here. I think they need an auspitice.

It's really funny that you said that, because that is kind of exactly the role that [spoiler] ends up playing, though in a more roundabout way, hahaha. They certainly need someone to, like, get them to be having the same conversation with each other instead of two parallel ones. I think the fun thing about writing Alastor reacting to his own feelings is just how much his reaction can change based on how things are framed for him, and it leaves a lot of wiggle room for how differently I've ended up writing him reacting to the season 1 finale in 666 vs in Happily Ever After, and Other Shit Nepotism Can't Buy.

But, god, you really nailed the description of what Alastor is feeling. <3

Vox in the latest 666, my ENTIRE HEART. Literally nothing about how he read the situation was a bad take or a leap to conclusions, but alastor constantly says the opposite of what he means and refuses to admit vulnerability or friendship and what the hell else was vox meant to do with that, of course he backed off, they need to have this talk so badly

YES, PRECISELY! Like, I hope it came through that really neither of them was completely crazy to react the way they did! It's a result of how much of their communication has been nonverbal, implied, and talking around things - they'd been doing so well up until this point, but there's only so far that can take you before you start thinking that you're on the same page when really you're reading two completely different books! Thank you sm! <3

‘But I am capable,” Alastor says gently. “I love you very much.” Vox gapes up at him. “...I. Fuck you.” His voice is tight, strained. “I don’t fucking believe you.” Alastor feels his smile thin. “Well. That’s just dandy, then, isn’t it?”’ I AM NOT OK GOING FUCKING FERAL

Probably one of my favorite lines to write, ehehehe. THANK YOU ANONNNN <3 It's kinda interesting to see how differently some people read this. Some folks thought Alastor was saying it to hurt Vox (which is how Vox read it). Some folks thought it was true (how Alastor intended it). Some folks thought Alastor was trying to fit into the mold that he thought Vox wanted from him (how I intended it). All of them make sense as readings! >:)

#ask #personal #Anonymous #black cat anon #sparkle anon #deer anon #dove anon #t #long post #tumblr if you break the cut on this one I'm gonna fuckin cry #answering 9 asks in one post here

33 notes · View notes

wandasaura · 4 months

Note

Nat pretends she's over all the valentines day dramatics but then she's the one with the biggest gesture for Dove. Wanda and Nat are both secretly competing with each other on who can make the best valentines day. Meanwhile Dove is just enjoying everything and being so grateful

˚⋆｡°౨ৎ when wanda approached nat about it, the elder redhead claims, “it’s not a competition, wanda!” even though the both of them know that absolutely, without a doubt, this is the biggest competition of their lives. forget proving themselves to terrorist organizations just wanting to stay alive another day, or fighting for respect at the bottom of the shield food chain; being deemed the more romantic partner means more then the violence ever could. ౨ৎ °｡⋆˚

˚⋆｡°౨ৎ that being said, after the night in the kitchen when this competition really formed, wanda’s subtle gifts and gestures increased tenfold. she made you’re favorite breakfast, she allowed you to have as much sugar as you wanted even when it meant ruining your entire schedule, she brought you for walks around the park, and gently massages your scalp in a candlelight bath after everything that came before. natasha was less obvious in her methods, or so she claimed to be. every morning there was a flower waiting for you in the kitchen — one that would be added to the continuously growing bouquet in your bedroom. she left boxes of chocolates in the pantry with your name scripted across the top, when you left for school one morning, there was a new water bottle sitting in the side pocket (one that you had not-so-secretly been eyeing for months. ౨ৎ °｡⋆˚

˚⋆｡°౨ৎ the two women thought their competition was well hidden. they thought that you were none the wiser to their late night squabbling and theatrical displays of affection, but when the true holiday finally rolled around, and you stumbled into the kitchen to find them both at the stove wearing displeased frowns despite the obvious affection in their eyes, you finally broke the news. “you know i think you’re both romantic, right? if you spend the entire day fighting over who can swoon me best i’m leaving you to sleep alone and taking maria up on her offer.” ౨ৎ °｡⋆˚

˚⋆｡°౨ৎ you didn’t take maria up on her offer, you’d never dream of spending a night away from them, but it did calm their bickering, and gave you a comfortable silence to eat your home cooked breakfast in. you giggled into your palm a few hours later when you caught the pout on natasha’s lips, “natty, how many times do i have to tell that i love you and wands equally. no amount of candles and stale drugstore chocolates could ever make me love either one of you more. if i loved you anymore then i do right now, i think i’d die of a heart attack.” ౨ৎ °｡⋆˚

˚⋆｡°౨ৎ the real competition, the red headed avengers realized, was having ever won your heart to begin with. ౨ৎ °｡⋆˚

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #[ ⧗ ] — asks #w: asks #ld: asks #ld: drabbles #[ ꔫ ] — drabbles #[ ⧗ ] — drabbles #series: little dove #𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 ꔫ #answered.

72 notes · View notes

cookie-crumblr · 6 days

Note

(Don’t care that I’m not on anon gonna be shameless rn) how would Ezra, and Dev.In & ofc Issac react if the reader (female) said she wanted to their (his) little pet? Also for Ezra it’d also only be said it’ll be done if he doesn’t fucking kill her, or damage her too much to put her in the hospital AGAIN (I’ll finish Jasper’s in a min)

MINORS DNI

CW: F!reader, reader referred to as she/her, reader has a vagina, pet play, reader has hair (not described), names for reader (slut, bitch, little bitch, good girl, my bitch,kitty, good kitty, kitten, bad girl) size difference/n kink, nipple play, p in v, inhuman anatomy, fingering, reader has breast(not described)

OOOooooOOoOo!!! yessssss! (also this got way longer than what i intended XD SORRY)

So i feel like with Ezra this might be his ideal partner.

Like sure he loves a partner that he can reshape, but a partner that just chooses to fully rely on him? oh boy.

Ezra X F!Pet Reader!

“You really are a slut, you know that?” He pokes your forehead, “But you’re my little slut, huh?”

You nod eagerly, your collar in your mouth, and hands up as if they’re paws.

He takes the leather from your maw and buckles it around your throat snug enough that you feel it on you.

“What does the little bitch want, ay? You wannnaaaaa, treat? Little bitch wants a treat??” He coos and raises the pitch of his voice.

You nod again excitedly.

He backs you up against the wall, his arm over your head, and he leans down to you. Knee in your crotch, and his fingers run loosely through your hair. “Such a good girl,” his words send shivers through you.

“Plea-” He slams your head back against the wall when he slaps his hand over your mouth.

“Pets don’t talk,” His sinister grin grows, “they bark.”

“Woof” You’re muffled by his hand and the air puffs up into your eyes, but your own smile widens when his eyes admire you. A fire burns in your core.

“Fuck,” His voice is soft, the softest you’ve ever heard it.

“woof…” you let out a more quiet one hoping he’ll have mercy, your eyes seriously pleading.

His giant body surrounds you, as a hand wraps around your throat and his other one takes to between your legs replacing his knee. He removes whatever was blocking his way and stuffs his fingers deep into you with some resistance. “Good girl,”

“mmmhh!”

“Mm, you’re so tight,” your ear vibrates as he growls into it.

“Ow!” you squeak as he nips your ear, but it sends an electric shock through you.

“You tightened up, you love it when i hurt you” He clenches around your neck harder. You nod vigorously, you love it! you really do!

He rips through the rest of your clothes, leaving thick shreds around your body.

Lifting your leg along with him, you feel his massive member rub against your lower lips and shudder in his grasp. “Oh fffuck” falls from your lips.

He shoves himself into you, this time there’s a lot more resistance and it burns briefly, until you feel him hit your cervix, and practically gush around him.

He moans into your ear, “That’s my bitch, loves the pain i give.”

His body keeps you up, he’s huge and you feel so tiny, you both moan, as he bounces you against the wall. Your back burns against the painted wall, but somehow even it’s adding to the weight of that pleasure in your guts.

“Bark, bitch.” His voice reverberates inside you.

“Wo-woof!” He squeezes your neck harder and smacks your thigh. A coil snaps inside you, and he fucks harder through your rippling waves of pleasure. The spots in your eyes grow an wobble around, you can’t catch what little breath your able to get.

He pulls out and cums onto your stomach, some hits himself, there’s so much of it.

Dev.in and Issac is a fun one, probably my fave.🙈✨

Dev.In and Issac X F!Pet Reader!

“Well I can’t say I’m surprised. Issac will certainly be-”

“What will I be!?” Issac bounds in and trips over his own feet as he does, you catch him and he looks up thankfully.

“Happy. She wants to be my pet.” they say plainly.

“Oooo! Can I also be your pet, Devvy~!?!?”

“You already were,” Their growing smirk tugs at his snake bites.

“Yay!!!! Oh! Y/N this is gonna be so much fun~!!!”

Later, you’re both naked on all fours, kitty ear headbands, collars with leashes, and long sleek tail buttplugs in… You look expectantly at your master.

They’re sat legs spread and leaning back just enough to set a very commanding aura around him. His icy blue eyes glow in the dim light.

“Here kitties,” His voice is low and slow, as he curls a finger languidly. You imagine for a brief second that it’s inside you curling like that.

The crawl is uncomfortable, as you and Issac happily approach them and each climb a leg. You both admire the icy blue, inhumanly shaped, jagged, and thick, twin cocks, with drool in your mouths.

“You want these inside you?” they say cockily, while roughly grabbing both of your chins.

You nod. Oh gods yess! of course you want that beautiful beast of a thing inside of you!

“Such good kitties I have, it’s just too bad…”

You both cock your heads in question.

“I don’t feel like giving you what you want” Their grin drips of malice. “Make out with each other instead”

You do, you put your hands on Issac’s chest while sat on one of Dev.In’s thighs, and he sits on the other. Your legs are tangled together and he presses his knee between your legs.

“I didn’t say you could pleasure her yet.” they bounce their knee and slap Issac’s ass.

“Oh~! I’m soo sorry Master~~” He responds in a sing songy voice and winks at them, they return the smile and wink.

25 notes · View notes

silverskye13 · 8 days

Note

Oh I'm going to make you take responsibility, holy shit I will not be able to sleep thinking about this. Oh. Oooohh you will pay for this.

In other news, do expect me to make art of this hypothetical. I am mentally being absorbed by this concept - Dove

You know that feeling you get where you're walking down the stairs, and you just don't pick your back foot up quite enough, and you don't exactly trip and fall down the stairs, but you do stumble, and it makes your stomach do a flip because, oh boy, that was close, and now your ankle hurts a little, and you're going to have to intentionally focus on picking up your feet for the rest of the stairs, because if you're not careful you're going to break your neck on the staircase?

#answering asks #dove anon #i've been picking away at this slowly in my free time #alongside the next RnS chapter #i am going to finish it before i post it #in a perfect world it would've been done two week ago #but life has been. problematic. recently.#i am very tired

20 notes · View notes

parano1ddetective · 3 months

Note

hi bive!!! i wanna show you something!!!! *she hold something behind her back.*

HI SPLIT..

..WHAT IS IT?

#if its a bottle of dove or cleaning stuff #im gonna giggle #ive seen that a lot #regretevator #regretevator bive #roblox #ask blog #answered #rp blog

37 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs