âč àŁȘ Ë à»ê± twst writing blog. dead dove: do not eat. hi iâm lovelament and i love love love writing. my content varies but this blog does have dark & disturbing content. though i don't write outright explicit content, this blog is still nsfw (and sfw)!
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đđąđĄđ§đđĄđ§ đȘđđ„đĄđđĄđđŠ â dead dove: do not eat. female antagonist reader. yandere reverse harem. all x reader. descriptions of death and violence. innuendo + suggestive content. dating sim twisted wonderland but make everyone actually twisted.
OH, NO! YOU POOR, UNFORTUNATE SOUL! Well, to sum it up, you have been transmigrated, now youâre in a game. The Once-in-a-Lifetime Chance to Fall in Love with Charming Gentlemen at the Most Prestigious Magic Academy!  Catchy, isn't it? Shame it's also a yandere dating simulator, and . . you are not the heroine. You have been banished into the horrible villainessâs body, where youâre forced to watch the brooding men lay destruction to the world just to call the protagonist theirs. Itâs a game of death to you. Because every single time, every respawn point, even though you fight so, so hard: you are brutally killed by one of the yanderes. You are not in a game, you are in a time loop of misery where death is nothing if not your beloved acquaintance.
Wait, wait, wait, wait!Â
Those were the last words you uttered in your official, well-deserved, one thousandth loop. In other words, you got killed again. How utterly melodramatic.
Boo, boo, booo! Throw tomatoes! ââItâs become a lovely little pastime at this point, so much so that if you arenât dead by the time you reach the Savanaclaw arc, you start questioning things. Thatâs a brutal, brutal, brutal lens to peer at life with, but itâs become a part of you â the innermost core, if you will. For ever since your arrival, youâve been subjected to nothing but violence, and thatâs not even an exaggeration, is it? Youâve been killed by every method under the sun: strangled, poisoned, impaled, buried alive, straight up eaten, and that's only one of the more PG versions!  Itâs the curse of the villainess, a character no one truly deigns a glance, yet in spite of the various anomalies the main character faces, their love interests always end up taking their frustration out on you! Poor, old you. Itâs ludicrous how you never really get used to it, you just learn to bite back the screams.Â
Now that you think about it, what was the original game even about? It was the usual type, really, some cheesy excuse of a .zip file you deemed nothing but a cringefest â only playing it for the gorgeous visuals and men, and youâd argue the same goes for anyone who dared touch it. Because in what universe does a yandere game centered around overarching, lovelorn devotion sound good? . . . Apparently yours because you ate it all up and left nothing to interpretation. You canât blame yourself, the plotline was filthy good for such a low-quality ad and the fandom the size of an atom, donât put any blame by your feet for wanting to be the first player!Â
No one ever told you youâd be given a role this horrifying, though.
Sure, the world building seemed intimidating. Overblots, dark romance, whatnot . . but you just wanted an itsy-bitsy piece of the guilty pleasure, nothing more, nothing less. It wasnât everyday you stumbled upon a game with ridiculously well-crafted and deep characters, after all.
Well . . . now you have no purpose whatsoever, and you mean that in a philosophical sense. Before Yuu, the story goes as follows. You, the nameless villainess, were the only girl in Night Raven, naturally, somewhere in the developer's office, someone decided the pinnacle of storytelling was making two girls hate each other's guts.  Itâs a concept you donât like, even more so when all the odds are stacked against you, and sometimes it even gets tiring, because the pre-determined dialogue and choices set for Yuu give them a somewhat timid appearance. Grow a backbone! There is an insane power imbalance, you see â and of course theyâre going to need extra protection from all their knights in shining armor.
The greatest odd against you, however, is the dorm thatâs been chosen for you.Â
Knock, knock, knock!
Knuckles drumming against the door, you are roused from your sleep. Bright, lambent sunlight seeps in from the windows, the peak wherein your roomâs inundated with a glow so much like a cherubâs tear, attacking your eyes and reminding you, you have no business being up at the ass crack at dawn.
Unless . . Â
Title Unlocked â Headless Maiden.
You died! Riddle wanted it to be off with your head. Shame he took it so literally.Â
You died again.
You recoil. Images. Images are what you see. A gaggle of memories flooding your brain, crimsonâs brutish spread meandering down the crucible of your throat in sprays. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt. And it still hurts, a burn so real you realize a scream thrashes at the apex of your tongue until it blurs into a half-choked sob of misery, where your hands are coaxed towards your esophagus, trying to alleviate the sharp phantomâs touch. You have sprung upright, and the bed creaking beneath the sudden weight reminds you someone is still knocking at your door, the door to your room, the room where youâve died so many times..
The room thatâs now stripped of everything.Â
Everything is white, as is every respawn. Every single trinket, achievement or personal belonging has now been reset, making you stare at a swathe of the sort of white youâd find in hospitals or an asylumâs padded room. No! Youâd worked so hard at Crisp ân dips trying to afford that one lipstick, and now itâs all gone. Every single thing youâd worked your bones off for are nowhere to be seen, thrown into the systemâs savage bin, and once again, you suppress a bitter laugh from bubbling over, they truly spare you no pity.Â
âMiss?â
Miss. Thatâs what they call you here. Miss, because you have no name attached to you. Shuffling off your bed and realizing just how enervated you must look, you slowly open the door, peaking through the gap.Â
Luckily, itâs just a second year.Â
âHousewarden Schoenheit wants everyone to be up and ready. Take a shower, trim your nails, iron your orientation robes.. Andâer..â
âAnd make sure not a single strand is overlooked.â
âYes, thatâs right!â
Your respawn point is orientation. Well, before it. Due to such unadulterated generosity, you are given a few hours of respite before all hell breaks loose and takes you up into its flames.Â
Helloo I found your page and thought it was really cool! would you be willing to write a Modern adult AU with Yandere Rook x Kind of willing Reader where they're in a relationship and someone (Maybe Ace) tries to convince the reader to leave Rook and to go with him and Rook catches this interaction and kills them infront of the reader and now he's trying to make it up to the reader by begging them to stay and it works... possible smut.... đđ
awwwhhhh lawwdd ts peak đ€€ noted.. though i donât write full on explicit content iâll make sure to add all the spice ty for the req
đđąđĄđ§đđĄđ§ đȘđđ„đĄđđĄđđŠ â dead dove: do not eat. female antagonist reader. yandere reverse harem. all x reader. descriptions of death and violence. innuendo + suggestive content. dating sim twisted wonderland but make everyone actually twisted.
OH, NO! YOU POOR, UNFORTUNATE SOUL! Well, to sum it up, you have been transmigrated, now youâre in a game. The Once-in-a-Lifetime Chance to Fall in Love with Charming Gentlemen at the Most Prestigious Magic Academy!  Catchy, isn't it? Shame it's also a yandere dating simulator, and . . you are not the heroine. You have been banished into the horrible villainessâs body, where youâre forced to watch the brooding men lay destruction to the world just to call the protagonist theirs. Itâs a game of death to you. Because every single time, every respawn point, even though you fight so, so hard: you are brutally killed by one of the yanderes. You are not in a game, you are in a time loop of misery where death is nothing if not your beloved acquaintance.
Wait, wait, wait, wait!Â
Those were the last words you uttered in your official, well-deserved, one thousandth loop. In other words, you got killed again. How utterly melodramatic.
Boo, boo, booo! Throw tomatoes! ââItâs become a lovely little pastime at this point, so much so that if you arenât dead by the time you reach the Savanaclaw arc, you start questioning things. Thatâs a brutal, brutal, brutal lens to peer at life with, but itâs become a part of you â the innermost core, if you will. For ever since your arrival, youâve been subjected to nothing but violence, and thatâs not even an exaggeration, is it? Youâve been killed by every method under the sun: strangled, poisoned, impaled, buried alive, straight up eaten, and that's only one of the more PG versions!  Itâs the curse of the villainess, a character no one truly deigns a glance, yet in spite of the various anomalies the main character faces, their love interests always end up taking their frustration out on you! Poor, old you. Itâs ludicrous how you never really get used to it, you just learn to bite back the screams.Â
Now that you think about it, what was the original game even about? It was the usual type, really, some cheesy excuse of a .zip file you deemed nothing but a cringefest â only playing it for the gorgeous visuals and men, and youâd argue the same goes for anyone who dared touch it. Because in what universe does a yandere game centered around overarching, lovelorn devotion sound good? . . . Apparently yours because you ate it all up and left nothing to interpretation. You canât blame yourself, the plotline was filthy good for such a low-quality ad and the fandom the size of an atom, donât put any blame by your feet for wanting to be the first player!Â
No one ever told you youâd be given a role this horrifying, though.
Sure, the world building seemed intimidating. Overblots, dark romance, whatnot . . but you just wanted an itsy-bitsy piece of the guilty pleasure, nothing more, nothing less. It wasnât everyday you stumbled upon a game with ridiculously well-crafted and deep characters, after all.
Well . . . now you have no purpose whatsoever, and you mean that in a philosophical sense. Before Yuu, the story goes as follows. You, the nameless villainess, were the only girl in Night Raven, naturally, somewhere in the developer's office, someone decided the pinnacle of storytelling was making two girls hate each other's guts.  Itâs a concept you donât like, even more so when all the odds are stacked against you, and sometimes it even gets tiring, because the pre-determined dialogue and choices set for Yuu give them a somewhat timid appearance. Grow a backbone! There is an insane power imbalance, you see â and of course theyâre going to need extra protection from all their knights in shining armor.
The greatest odd against you, however, is the dorm thatâs been chosen for you.Â
Knock, knock, knock!
Knuckles drumming against the door, you are roused from your sleep. Bright, lambent sunlight seeps in from the windows, the peak wherein your roomâs inundated with a glow so much like a cherubâs tear, attacking your eyes and reminding you, you have no business being up at the ass crack at dawn.
Unless . . Â
Title Unlocked â Headless Maiden.
You died! Riddle wanted it to be off with your head. Shame he took it so literally.Â
You died again.
You recoil. Images. Images are what you see. A gaggle of memories flooding your brain, crimsonâs brutish spread meandering down the crucible of your throat in sprays. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt. And it still hurts, a burn so real you realize a scream thrashes at the apex of your tongue until it blurs into a half-choked sob of misery, where your hands are coaxed towards your esophagus, trying to alleviate the sharp phantomâs touch. You have sprung upright, and the bed creaking beneath the sudden weight reminds you someone is still knocking at your door, the door to your room, the room where youâve died so many times..
The room thatâs now stripped of everything.Â
Everything is white, as is every respawn. Every single trinket, achievement or personal belonging has now been reset, making you stare at a swathe of the sort of white youâd find in hospitals or an asylumâs padded room. No! Youâd worked so hard at Crisp ân dips trying to afford that one lipstick, and now itâs all gone. Every single thing youâd worked your bones off for are nowhere to be seen, thrown into the systemâs savage bin, and once again, you suppress a bitter laugh from bubbling over, they truly spare you no pity.Â
âMiss?â
Miss. Thatâs what they call you here. Miss, because you have no name attached to you. Shuffling off your bed and realizing just how enervated you must look, you slowly open the door, peaking through the gap.Â
Luckily, itâs just a second year.Â
âHousewarden Schoenheit wants everyone to be up and ready. Take a shower, trim your nails, iron your orientation robes.. Andâer..â
âAnd make sure not a single strand is overlooked.â
âYes, thatâs right!â
Your respawn point is orientation. Well, before it. Due to such unadulterated generosity, you are given a few hours of respite before all hell breaks loose and takes you up into its flames.Â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming