n109dove

[n109dove]

i need to know what was in that. picture…… but inmy head. kid zayne has a bowl cut

herez little zaynie and da post yayqyy

[n109dove]

save a cow ride a boy or what um save a uh ride a horse no its save a uhh guys who we saving

[n109dove]

Remaking my whb mc (i think since launch?) Now that its on pc & i can enjoy my boys properly :3c

She's basically Belphegor's twin with how much she enjoys sleeping 😂. She's not the "main" mc though either. That descendant was already in hell doing stuff but one day she just 'woke up' in hell & it was a roller coaster from then on! (I know literally nothing on asmo/belph b/c i dont have their cards so im not writing much interactions with them atm anyway.)

Oh & her fave is Juno 🙂‍↕️ (there are others but Juno will always be the top one!)

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Remaking an mc for a fandom i dont feel like i belong in anymore makes me....feel weird? Like im in gc of others but it honestly feels like i shouldnt be there anymore. Its pretty much ran by only 1 person always showing off something n less about the game. Like idm chats where we can all talk outside of the game but they make it feel like its only about their mc & very clique based with a few others..

[n109dove]

“Hmph, this one transfers too.”

You got new lipsticks, meaning you needed to wear test them as soon as possible. Your guinea pigs? Your two, loving, patient, towering boyfriends of course.

Your lips were rather sensitive at this point, so many kisses, so many makeup wipes, so many new formulas smeared across your mouth. “That’s okay, try the next one.”

Zayne and Sylus sat before you, lounging on your shared bed in Linkon with numerous kiss marks on their lips, cheeks, foreheads, noses, necks, collarbones…

They couldn’t complain, no they wouldn’t dare. Getting showered in your never ending kisses? That would be like begging for water after days wandering in the desert and then declining it because it’s room temperature.

“I’m running out of room.” You settle back on your knees, hands rummaging through the shades you haven’t tried yet while also eyeing both men up and down.

“By all means, kitten, I can take off my shirt.” Zayne’s fingers stop their typing, he had been multitasking this entire kissing endeavor. “That’s a great idea, Sy! Take your shirt off.” A dopey grin stretched your kiss-swollen lips, and a second later Zayne’s laptop is snapping shut.

“Zayne, Sylus is more than enough canvas.” You’re teasing him, of course, watching his hazel eyes snap towards you. “That’s complete nonsense, you need more blank canvas for your art work.” Sylus’ hearty chuckle sounds beside him, his silk button up hitting the floor.

“Someone is sounding jealous, Doctor Zayne.” He’s settling back against the headboard, eyeing you slowly as you applied the next lipstick. “More canvas for me, thanks for being so considerate Zaynie.”

And the man could only shrug his tee shirt up and over his head, ears a burning crimson. “I think that shade would look good on Zayne’s chest, don’t you think, kitten?”

Suddenly, Zayne felt as if he walked right into a trap.

[n109dove]

I think these were my fave 2 of the poses they shared over on twit! I dont have the dress so i used my usual one instead!

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Sleepover

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here’s spring and flowers zayne to brighten the mood after the new main story chapter 🤧

[n109dove]

1000 followers celebration <3 - request 6/10

you lay still, eyes wide in the dark again. the clock ticked past 2am, the world outside silent, but your mind wouldn’t stop racing. thoughts pressed against your skull like static, too fast, too loud. sleep felt like a distant, cruel thing.

sylus stirred beside you. without a word he rolled over and pulled you into his arms. “i heard your breathing change,” he murmured against your hair, voice hushed and low.

“i didn’t want to wake you…”

“you didn’t,” he said gently. “you don’t need to pretend when it’s you and me.”

you melted into his chest, the thrum of his heartbeat slow and steady. his hand ran up and down your back in slow, grounding strokes.

“i just… i can’t shut my brain off.”

“i know,” he whispered. “so let’s not fight it. let’s just… be awake together.”

he didn’t offer fixes. just wrapped himself tighter around you, murmuring soft nothings and quiet affirmations of safety, of presence, of love. “i’ll stay up with you,” he whispered against your forehead. “every night if i have to.”

and somehow, under the rhythm of his voice and the weight of his arms, the chaos inside you slowed. and finally… you slept.

[n109dove]

Should i throw all my illusio pics here....(assuming i remember my login for this app b/c everythings on my tablet lmao)

[n109dove]

rafayel is the quiet storm kind of alpha. his scent is cool and grounding with something darker beneath it, like ozone before a lightning strike.

he doesn’t speak often, but when he does, his voice drops when he says your name. like he’s tasting it, claiming it.

has perfect control of his instincts until he doesn’t. he’s hyperaware of you. doesn’t show it, but he catalogs every change in your scent, every tremble, every soft sigh.

if you’re in heat, he knows before you do. and he keeps his distance until you ask.

“say it,” he murmurs, eyes burning. “tell me what you want.”

once you do? he’s on his knees before you like a knight to his queen.

scenting you is almost spiritual for him. slow drags of his nose along your neck. long, reverent exhales. eyes fluttered shut like he’s praying.

“you ground me,” he whispers. “you’re the only thing that ever has.”

never raises his voice, but his possessiveness is deadly calm. if another alpha so much as looks at you wrong, rafayel will pin them down with this certain look in his eyes.

deeply protective, deeply physical. during your heat, his hands never leave your skin. even after knotting you, he keeps a slow rhythm, not for pleasure, but to stay inside you.

“don’t pull away,” he says when you twitch. “let me finish. let me fill you.”

his praise is raw and sparse, but it means everything.

“you were made for me.”

“no one else gets to have you like this.”

“i’ll destroy anything that tries to take you from me.”

aftercare is silent, intense, gentle. he runs you a bath. carries you. feeds you. watches you with an expression so tender it aches.

if you fall asleep still knotted to him, he’ll whisper it then (when he thinks you can’t hear).

“i love you.”

“you’re mine.”

“i won’t survive losing you.”

his first rut with you:

rafayel always thought he’d go through rut alone. sterile. controlled. locked away in a room with nothing but silence and and his paintings.

but then there’s you.

your scent clings to the corners of his world. soft. warm. his. he tries to distance himself as the rut creeps in, but when you press your palms to his chest and whisper, “i want to stay,” something in him fractures.

his knees buckle. his hands shake. for the first time in his life, he doesn’t want to control it. he wants to feel it.

“you don’t understand,” he says through gritted teeth. “i’ve never… i won’t be gentle. not this time.”

but you cup his jaw, scent blooming like a balm. “then don’t be gentle. just be mine.”

and then the storm hits.

rafayel claims you with his whole body, dragging his tongue along your scent gland, kissing you so deeply your breath catches in your throat.

every movement is desperate and slow, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish between his fingers. like he’s trying to memorize you through every thrust, every kiss, every low growl in your ear.

“you make me lose control,” he breathes. “and i don’t care anymore.”

he knots you with a deep, trembling groan, holding you down with shaking hands as your body tightens around him.

and then? he stills. buries his face in your neck and just breathes. like your scent is the only thing anchoring him to reality.

“i wanted my first rut to be forgettable,” he murmurs, voice cracking. “but now… now i’ll never forget it.”

you thread your fingers through his hair and whisper, “good.”

he knots you again, slower this time. this time, it’s not need. it’s worship.

“i’ll never take another omega,” he promises into your skin. “not in this life. not in any.”

[n109dove]

It takes you a while to accept Sylus’ praise.

He notices this, of course, because each time he offers it you get this little crinkle in your nose.

As if you are wary of seeing it as real praise. He doesn’t take offense, no of course he doesn’t. He’s had time to come to terms with the current situation he has been presented with when it comes to you.

You don’t remember him. Not your past lives nor the childhood you two spent together. As hard of a pill as it was to swallow, Sylus tries to look at it positively.

As odd as it sounds. He’s been given a third chance at winning your heart all over again.

It may have started off rocky, he had let his emotions get the better of him during that initial meeting. Then continued to stew on it during the days he held you “captive” in the N109 Zone.

Of course you wouldn’t be all that accepting of his praise. Granted, the hostility had stemmed from both sides. Looking at it with a clearer head, Sylus recalled how stand offish he came off to you. Especially since you had known him as nothing other than the leader of Onychinus.

He equated it to getting mad at a feral kitten for scratching him when he attempted to pet it. So, he worked on reigning things back. Swallowing his own upset in order to truly regain the trust he craved so dearly.

“You did very well, kitten.”

And there it was again. The hesitance in your eyes, the slight scrunch of your nose, and the wary “…thanks.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, he made the bed so he’d just have to sleep in it. “I mean it.”

There was the smallest of tremors in his tone, one he prayed you’d miss. “Are you alright?” He should have known better. Of course you’d pick up on it.

“Yes, sorry. Something got caught in my throat.” But you weren’t satisfied with that sort of response.

“Did I do something wrong?” And Sylus swore he could fall to his knees then and there. Your eyes, the eyes he had loved through countless lifetimes, seemed to see right through him despite everything.

“No, nothing at all, kitten. It’s…” but he trailed off, it was so unlike him that you stepped a little closer. “But it’s something.” You murmur, a hand on his forearm.

“You don’t trust me yet.” Sylus starts, he’s always been straight forward. There is no reason to stop now. “I understand our relationship can be a bit touch and go. We didn’t really make great impressions on each other in the very beginning but…” he looks away, inhaling deeply.

“My praises for you are genuine. The way I’ve come to care for you is also genuine.” Truth is, he never stopped. “I can see that hesitance in your face whenever I praise you.” And you feel like your chest is frozen, full of air you can’t seem to exhale. You had hurt his feelings.

“Sylus, I’m so sorry.” And his mouth immediately opens to hush you but you keep talking. “I have been guarded, and I know you can’t blame me for that. But the least I could do is give you some grace. You’ve been nothing but kind to me after we got over our differences. Your reputation proceeds you, just as I’m sure mine has proceeded me.”

You swallow, tightening your grip on his arm. “Thank you, Sylus. For the praise. For your faith in me. For continuing to help me despite my difficulties.” And if he could have kissed you stupid right then and there? He would have.

“Thank you, kitten.”

[n109dove]

that one ingame edit of sunday with short hair that i find really REALLY cute

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💫

[n109dove]

I saw you were taking Brant requests, and if that's still going may I ask for something like the captain!reader where Brant is drunk and just accidentally proposes? Also if reader could be male I would love it but if not that's okay too :]

✧.* DRUNKEN BEHAVIORS

BRANT X READER - FLUFF, CRACK

✧ hi anon! this is so funny i love the prompt so much. i’ll make the reader gender neutral because i have no idea to how to write male reader (i’m also like the girliest girl you’ll ever meet so) but the pronouns will be up to your imagination. hope you enjoy :)

✧ gender neutral reader, reader is his partner of a while lol. no warnings rly

YOU AND BRANT HAVE BEEN DATING FOR A WHILE NOW, and you were very used to brant when he’s drunk (spoiler alert - almost every night). you knew how he behaves, but this one was new for you in so many different ways.

you both loved each other very much, that was obvious, but you didn’t really expect that he’d drop to one knee with a gorgeous ring and slur his words trying to tell you about how happy it would make him to be your husband.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

it was any normal night, brant and his crew just finished up a show, and of course, to celebrate the occasion, bottles of liquor were opened and being passed around while you were managing everyone with roccia. the two of you were talking in the background, watching everyone get drunk out of their minds and trying your very hardest to get them to drop the liquor, but that’s not gonna happen anytime soon.

you both just tried to ignore it until brant, his form shakey yet confident, got up on the table and shouted something that nobody could really make out. you and roccia stood close just in case he fell, but what happened was the one thing you weren’t thinking of.

he turned to you, pulling a ring from his pocket and jumping off the table once he got everyone’s attention. he got down on one knee, taking a moment to balance himself before confidently opening the ring box and saying the words “y/n, would you marry me?”

you could tell this was something he’s been planning for a while, considering his confidence in his speech and that he tried his hardest not to slur his words. you could tell it was probably an accident, but he was ready and prepared to pop the question at any point in time now. you nodded, allowing his shaking hands to slide the ring on your finger (the wrong one at first, but roccia corrected him) and he took you into a warm and tight embrace.

although it wasn’t the night you were expecting to have, it was a night you wouldn’t trade for the world. and the funniest part is that brant remembered what he did the next morning and said the speech he truly wanted to say.

[n109dove]

the exile

— (rafayel)

.

'o desterrado' by antónio soares dos rei

[n109dove]

CrowFish at the Opera House.

@2_MA_TO on Twitter/X