movedblog-thesacrificialdove

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

ive movedblog….. stop following me here por favor

─── dubious consent / reader is, however, actually consenting

you can't take your eyes away from it. like the lover trapped in eden, you stare into the snake's eyes and are urged to take a bite. he comes to the cabin you're staying. he is a force awaken by the sounds of pleasure coming from your room. when your boyfriend is busy satisfying himself, you are left mocking pornstars with your own moans.

he slithers in within the night. your boyfriend didn't see him—but you did. you see its white eyes from the window and instead of warning your boyfriend, you're left embracing the cold touch that touches your warm skin. suddenly, pleasure amplifies. it's not from your boyfriend. you know it isn't. it's something else. it's something deeper. your head throws back to the pillows as your head fills with things that you've never thought of before.

the only word you can describe with what you're seeing is the underworld. it's dark, hellish, and a nightmare. yet there are those white eyes. white, pure eyes. you can't look away from it. you shall not. you're not scared to look away, rather, you're scared to lose it. if you look away, you're scared this pleasure is gonna stop. suddenly, the moans you're letting out is no longer fake. yet, the feeling of penetration in your sex has disappeared and what replaces it is the warm embrace of scales and cold skin. he's going to reawaken you, you think. he's going to make you reborn.

the world is swallowed with the serpent's mouth. its jaw unhinges and your boyfriend is taken away. he is not worthy. he never was. the serpent stands in front of you, it's white scales a contrast to the dim night. he is of the devil, you know. he may even be the devil. yet, that does not matter. not when he slithers towards you, unhinges his jaw, and feeds you with a liquid substance that gets you addicted.

you are the daughter of eve. you are the second woman to be tempted. you've released hell and it feels good because you were never satisfied in the mortal realm. he speaks, in your mind, with a low tone and a hiss, "a precious'a child," he feeds you more and more, "a daught'a of tempation. you are... perfect."

it doesn't matter who says this and that. you were chosen. the world was bland, destructive, and all-consuming. you never deserved to work a 9-5, be buried in student loans, and have the shittiest boyfriend known to man. you look into the devil's eyes and you willingly stand and follow him to a world where you can simply be. you don't need to be a ruler, or a queen, or anything else you don't want to be. the serpent whispers its name, the mourningstar, and you gasp it out in pleasure you've never felt before.

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

the pt 2 from my other blog…

your yandere leon headcanons are very good, do you have more :o

yandere trainer!leon kennedy who drives you hours into the wildernes. this is deeper than you’ve ever gone for a mission. there are no comms check-ins, no maps you can read, no coordinates you can memorize. the further you go, the fewer signs of life there are. it's just a loop of trees and the hum of the engine.

yandere trainer!leon who says it’s for training purposes. survival drills, isolation conditioning, long-range marksmanship in terrain you’ve never experienced, all of it for you. he runs through exercises every morning: tracking footprints through snow, setting up traps, dismantling and reassembling your weapon in the cold until your fingers ache. but the training gets… well, it feels more like excuses. less about skill, more about shared moments. breakfast cooked together disguised as learning to cook with wild meat. he pours you tea and puts something in each time, telling you to distinguish which could be tampered with. both of you sleep on the same bed because anything could happen and you need to stay alert at all times.

yandere trainer!leon who never says you can’t leave, he just never mentions going back. whenever you bring it up, he says hq hasn’t given the all-clear yet. that there’s still “risk” in returning. he makes it sound so rational, so calm, that you start to doubt your feel of urgency. the days blur into each other until you can’t remember the last time you checked the date. you tell yourself you’re just acclimating to the environment, but the truth is you’ve started to like the silence. you’ve started to like him.

the snow falls in slow spirals. it catches on your cap as you followed leon along the narrow trail. your breath went visible in front of you. it's cold. it's colder than any simulation. leon walked ahead—steady, unhurried, as though the weight of the backpack on his shoulders meant nothing. you’d been out here long enough to match his pace without thinking. you're not left behind but you're always left behind.

when the cabin came to view, you feel something in your chest unclench. not because you were tired—though you were—but because it almost felt like home. the dark shape against the blinding white snow. the smell of woodsmoke. the faint creak of the floorboards as you come up. the way leon always took your gloves off for you when you came inside. hq gives you a home warmer than the one you've had in your life.

he glanced over his shoulder once you reached the porch, his hair damp from the snow. “you did good today.”

inside, the fire already lit, a glow stretches across the room. leon shrugged off his jacket and tossed yours over the back of a chair, moving with the ease of someone who’d memorised the space a hundred times over. he pours two mugs of tea without asking if you wanted any. you didn’t need him to. "thank you," you say, for both the tea and the praise. you're not quite sure now

it occurred to you, briefly, that you hadn’t thought about hq in days. hadn’t thought about the city, or the other agents, or the life you had before this. you should’ve missed it. you should’ve wanted to go back. but leon was watching you with that faint, unreadable smile. the snow was falling heavier outside, and the fire crackled louder. for the first time, the thought of leaving never even crossed your mind.

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[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

my other blog that 800 people are missing out on… like come on.. i’ve movedblogs

yandere trainer!leon kennedy who watches you across the sparring mat, arms crossed, eyes unreadable as you struggle to get back on your feet. his voice is flat when he tells you to do it again and again. still, his eyes burn. you’re not sure if it’s anger, disappointment, or something darker. he corrects your form with the slightest touch to your hip, your wrist, your neck. his hands are calloused, movements clinical, but you feel his breath a second too long behind your ear. “if someone grabs you like this,” he says, twisting your arm until you wince, “you better make them regret it.” he never actually hurts you—he toes that line. he pushes you to exhaustion, to frustration, to pain. but never past it.

yandere trainer!leon who offers you private training sessions under the pretense of “accelerating your progress.” he tells the others you need extra conditioning. tells you it’s because he sees potential. but he trains you in secluded rooms, late hours, lights low. makes you run drills until your legs shake, then forces you into close-quarters combat with him. every time you land a hit, he smiles like he’s proud—but there's something possessive in that smile. when you fall, he’s already catching you, already too close. “you’re getting better,” he mutters, brushing your sweat-drenched hair back, thumb grazing your cheek in instinct. “but not good enough to beat me.”

yandere trainer!leon who leaves notes on your locker sometimes. they’re never signed. sometimes, it’s advice. sometimes, it’s warnings. you try to brush it off as part of the job—maybe it’s from hq, maybe it’s protocol—but the handwriting matches the curve of his signature. and when you show up where the notes tell you, he’s always already there. waiting. unreadable. like he knew you'd come even before you saw the message.

yandere trainer!leon who starts controlling more of your missions. he gets your name pulled from dangerous ops where you might be paired with other male agents. he tells hq you’re not ready—too eager, too unpredictable. you overhear someone say you’ve been “blacklisted from team rotations.” when you confront him, he doesn’t deny it. he just says, “you’re a danger to yourself. you rookies are always so eager to prove something.” there’s no apology in his voice. just finality. he doesn’t care if you’re angry. in fact, he likes it when you get in his face—because that means you're looking at him. choosing him. you’re his trainee. his responsibility. everything you do must be seen in his eyes.

yandere trainer!leon who sometimes snaps. not violently—but coldly. the more confident you get, the more defiant you become, the tighter he coils. one day, during a particularly grueling spar, you dodge every one of his attacks and smirk. you land a hit to his ribs. it’s not hard, but it’s enough. he grabs your wrist too fast, too hard, twisting it behind your back and slamming you to the mat with barely controlled force. you’re breathless. his body is pressed against yours in a pin that lasts too long. “don’t get cocky,” he groans. “you think you can take me? you have a long way until you can try me” and then—just as fast—he lets go. helps you up. the smile’s back. the one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

yandere trainer!leon who starts showing up outside of training. at your dorm. at the gym. at the dining halls. at first, it seems coincidental. maybe he’s just everywhere. maybe he’s just thorough. but then you notice he’s sitting two tables away every time you eat. walking behind you when you’re off duty. one night you hear footsteps outside your door. not close enough to be a threat, just…watching. you open it. no one’s there. but on some nights you're forgetting where you put things. your weapons are gone from the table. it shows up the next morning. cleaned. almost new.

yandere trainer!leon who is already planning your exit from the program. when he decides you’ve had enough field work, he’ll file the reports, forge the evaluations, burn the records. he’ll say you cracked under pressure. or died. or ran. whatever it takes. and then he’ll take you somewhere remote. you're going to trust him because he told you you're on a mission. you're going to be a mission for the rest of your life. to a place where no one will ever find you. he’ll train you there too—train you to love him, need him, trust him. he’ll be your only connection to the world. and that’s exactly how he wants it.

yandere trainer!leon who doesn’t want to fuck you. not just that. he wants to consume you. to protect you so completely, so violently, that no one else will even look at you without fear. he trains you to be strong, fast, lethal. he keeps you dependent. reminds you, over and over, that the world is full of threats you’re not ready for. but he is. he’s always ready. always watching. always there. and the more capable you become, the more he smiles to himself, knowing he’s building a perfect weapon—one that’s sharp, precise, and his.

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[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

more stuff from the other blog rofl

because the world will go to ruins for you, because your yan!casino owneroyfriend will never lose to anyone but you.

he's strict, he's ruthless. you can't think of another man in the world that would devour the flesh of those who beat him in a game of texas poker. you don't think anyone would want to eat flesh and skin at all. still, when the tides go against him when someone bets with real money—he bets reputation, not wealth—he will not stop until he gets his revenge.

maybe because he's powerful, maybe because he's famous, maybe because he's charming, he gets away with it all the time. you're left to watch from the sidelines of his half empty table the man who will soon regretting betting grands of money to get something from him.

dominque is his name. it's dominque because he lived in a gothic castle with a gothic upbringing; one built of fables of vampires and such. hausse is his last name because it's gods's greatest joke. he's lived in a house of empty hallways and ringing cries of his mother. he's also become the house, a mirror of the greedy and the brave who lose against him.

and you, you are his one exception. you sit at his table betting reputation. you've lost as many times as you won. dominique plays his hand loose with you, always eager to strike a conversation as you consider your next move in jackblack. your hand misses only a four and you're unsure how lucky you will be. still, he talks to you about your day and wonders if you will ever date anyone.

"as if," you laugh as you get a three. "i'm pretty satisfied alone right now. i have you for company though, no?"

you are the only exception. when you come in betting for money, he knows that you're desperate. the world has caught up to you and there's nothing else to offer you but his love. he folds, he bets it all, and you walk away from the house of greed with enough money to deal with the debt placed upon you.

yet, that's not the end, is it? when you return home, it's not anxiety that greets you. it's not burly men with agenda and a license to kill. no, it's not that at all. you're surprised to see the man who you owe money to sit at the head of table, his head served on a plate and mouth drooling paper bills. you want to fucking vomit. you feel sick. his empty eye sockets are fuelled by cents and pennies. an awful feeling of dread creeps up to you

then you see on his neck, a large bite that looks animal-like. suddenly, you know what happened.

when the world is full of greed, when millionaires are fat from raw steak and crawling in their latest automobiles, you're going to stand tall. dominque creeps up behind you, wrapping his arms around your startled frame. you will never not be the exception, you fear. death will follow you because nothing else can. he puts your body to rest in a sheet of gold and kisses your body until you cry the fountain of youth. you will never not be the greatest exception.

footnote this is still a work in progress but this is essentially the fic i'm writing lol

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

drabble posted on my new acc. chat <//3 stop following me on here i am literally just logging in to reblog my new posts

you have some serious fucking daddy issues, not even kidding. fortunately for you, your older yan!boyfriend is here to help you out in fulfilling your fantasies.

he can read you like a book. there's a flush to your cheeks when he kisses your knuckles, dresses you in the prettiest of dresses, praises you while you sit nicely on his lap. he's a wonder to be with because he knows everything that you need—even the ones you didn't know about.

he will make you cum so prettily too. you're bundled up in his embrace, fucking you so roughly but he's muttering sweet words that just makes your entire body weak. your body feels numb as he's thrusting, thrusting, thrusting, thrusting. the world spins for a moment and he's whispering to you:

"so good for me, sweetheart. feel so good around your daddy. your pussy is going to make a mess for daddy, hm? daddy will make you cum. daddy is going to make you cum so fucking good, sweetheart."

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

new fic on my new account! i'm slowly going to disappear from here so don't miss out my new stuff

GOLDEN CURLS and your BLOOD-STAINED KNIFE

premise . . . you should be terrified, you should be fucking horrified. all the annoying bitches around you drop dead like flies and the masked hottie man in front of you is about to kill you. and, oh my god, it's that nerd from chem ( requested by anon ! )

CAST virgin!slasher slutty!final girl TAGS plot with porn, murder and attempted murder, mentions of attempted suicide, crack treated seriously, possessive behaviour, light obsessive behaviour, light knifeplay, light femdom/dominant reader, light submissive slasher, brief breeding kink, creampie, unsafe sex done by unsafe people

affiliated links ─── pinned patreon inbox requests (closed for now) download this fic on my patreon !

death clings to your scent—everywhere, it knows where you are. it started small, seemingly a one-time thing. some old hag dies and everyone assumes it was from old age. it wasn't. god forbid, it wasn't. whispers echo through the hallway and doesn't leave your ears; it was a murder. who the hell gave a shit though, right? you didn't. you couldn't care when that hag refused to give you the mark you deserved. fuck her.

then, mechanically, it comes after one another. you're starting to think of moving, really. like flies, your contact list fills with dead bodies. literally. name after name, vague description after just another number, the men you've slept with are all fucking dying. if you were superstitious, you'd think this was karma. yet, you're not. you're realistic. you know someone is haunting your trail and they aren't fucking stopping.

the world stops for a moment. the only thing you can hear is that repetitive bounce of some... fucking tennis ball or something. the house is dreary, the silence occasionally stabbed with the thrumming of the ball bouncing around. your heart pounds against your chest. you can't feel your fingers though they tightly wrap around the handle of the kitchen knife. you've been sensing you were next for a while. you just wish that it didn't end like this when you're half naked, a nameless man dead on the floor of your bedroom, and pussy out in the fucking cold.

it's getting closer. your hands are grasped in prayer as you pull it close to your chest. when the pounding stops, you know he's there.

quickly, you turn to face the man in the doorway. you raise your hand to stab yet he halts you by your wrist. fuck. all your anger and frustration bubbles into a punch but it comes out fruitless. his fist hammer to your ribs. you're promptly pushed down; weak, hurting, and pathetic. this was not how you wanted to die. the man towers over you as he drags you by the hair—a string of whines fall from your lips as you struggle out of his grasp.

"get the fuck off me, you sicko!" you scream, the sting at your scalp more painful than a knife stab. you think so, anyways. "i won't fucking report your ass just please! leave me the fuck alone!"

if he's been operating systematically, killing off your contact lists one by one, you just knew that telling him off wouldn't stop him. still, he drops you on the floor. you find yourself on your back, staring wide-eyed as the mask looks into your eyes. he has no eyes, not really. he has one mouth, a grin so wild. his entire body is cloaked and with it soaked in blood—you were too. both of you were bathed in the blood of some bloke you didn't even remember the name of. you hoped, just a little, you get to have one good fuck before you died.

"do you like pain?" he says your name, his voice unnatural and a deep monotone. "i know you do." fucking pervert, watching you getting your masochistic streak on. "you like inflicting them more than you receive them, though. i know you do."

"i don't know what you mean," your voice trembles. he slowly squats down to your level, his bloody gloved hands making a print on your cheeks. "j-just..." his knife kisses your jaw, "if i did something or i said something to you—... i'm fucking stupid. you can ruin my life however you want just let me live! wouldn't that be better? let me live with my own mistakes?"

his laugh comes out a growl through the voice changer. it's animalistic. "you have been living with your mistakes," he tells you, "everyday, every man you bring home. every single one of them is a man who doesn't even care for you. they're a mistake. you've lived far long enough with them, haven't you? i'm here to finally—" the edge of the blade traces a line on the bottom of your jaw, leaving a heated pain behind—"dissolve you from your past."

before you try to reason with him, he grips his mask. the white sullen face is pulled upwards revealing—revealing...?

him? "you?" this feels like a sudden joke. "no... oh my god, no fucking way."

you want to laugh; hat was, of course, your attempted reaction before you felt the blade go deeper in your skin. fucking ouch. the man above you is none other than that nerd in your chem class. you remember months ago how you laughed because he continuously tried to flirt with you. his attempts all but adorable with his soft face and thick glasses. it was endearing back then. you almost slept with him just because you thought he was cute.

but now? holy fuck. now, it's different. you almost couldn't tell they were the same person if not the mole on his lips, a gentle kiss from the gods that turned his mouth a shade of pink. the soft cheeks have slimmed into a distinguished jawline. strands of hair curl at the top of his head, almost shielding his watercolour eyes beneath those stupid glasses. you can't believe it. that fucking nerd, after disappearing for months, came back to do a killing spree all because... you didn't sleep with him?

"you embarassed me," he says, his voice almost whiny. "do you know how hard it was for me to go around school? everyone picked on me because you said that i was... i was a good for nothing fucking virgin! you made fun of me and the entir..."

it's odd how his words dulled into a muffled tone. from this angle, the cloak falls off a little and you see a glimpse of his collarbones. he lost weight, didn't he? that's slightly sad, you quite liked him in his softer body. you mourn it silently but you notice how his voice trembles into a deeper tone—had he gone through puberty again? jeez. he looks and sounds cute. you're smiling a little as your heart skips a beat from anything but fear.

"what the fuck are you doing?" he asks, snapping you out of your trance. before you could notice it yourself, your hands already moved down to your crotch. you haven't even came yet, not even a fake orgasm. you're only slightly bit shameful that you're touching yourself while he's having his villain monologue.

you hum, spreading your legs. "look, i feel a bit bad and all, but you really caught me at a bad time." you see his eyes trail to your cunt, seeing where your fingers disappear between your legs and how he gulps down in want. "come on, he didn't even have his cock out, baby. i was just barely taking off my panties when you interrupted us. and... you're kinda hot."

"you're sick." hah! the irony in that. "you want to fuck me now?" he laughs, gripping your hair again which makes you moan this time. you can see how his face loosens for a moment at the sound. "y-you only like me now because i lost weight! i starved myself from the bullying, and planning on how to fucking kill those people!"

"but baby, you're cute the way you are," you pout. "the only reason why i didn't fuck you was because you were just kinda weird at times. it was cute how you thought flower facts were going to get you pussy. and it was going to give you pussy, baby. but i can't risk my reputation if i fucked a cute nerd like you. can't give it all up just for one dick, you know?

"but now...?" you gasp, reeling in his attention with how two fingers slip in with ease. "you fucking killed those dickheads, baby. i fake orgasmed with most of them. i don't need a reputation when you've killed my audience."

his face drops into one of shock. you're not surprised that he's surprised. you're a bit surprised too—hah, you're kinda going delirious, maybe you are insane after all. despite the festering pain on your face, the stickiness of blood, you curl your fingers perfectly into your g-spot that has you moaning. you admire the way his eyes are trained onto you, his desires unfulfilled coming back again like a pest. he's tried to get over you but he hasn't. you're not letting him. absolutely fucking not.

his knife moves and you stick your tongue out, chasing the tip of it. you moan, looking into his eyes as you lay your tongue flat against the plane of the blade. "co' fu'h me?"

the words "come fuck me" were muffled but it seemed like he got the gist.

like how it was meant to be, you lay on stained bedsheets. it's a bit disgusting but you're too distracted with how cutely he's hurrying to undo his jeans. the cloak is pulled apart and you see how his hands struggle to undo his belt. silly boy. you reach out, hands expertly taking them off as he melts in your hold. it's thrown away along with your underwear, wherever it may be, as his pants are roughly pulled down by him.

you can't help but tease him, "feeling excited, baby?" he moans, hips grounding against you with a sticky fabric bordering you two. "so cute. did you cum in your boxers already? why's it all wet, baby boy?" he blushes, silent as you pick him apart knowingly. your hands make it inside his briefs and both of you moan at the contact—he's fucking wet, almost gushing. you would think he already came with the pre-cum leaking at the tip. despite that assumption, his cock is an angry red demanding warmth. your warmth.

"such a pretty little boy for me. take that off," he does so obediently. his fat cock—and it is fat, the length of it just nice but the thickness of it makes you drool in want—slaps against his stomach and makes a patch on his happy trail. "good boy, such a pretty and good boy for me.

you ask, "wanna shove it in?" and he moans, an echo of agreement and pleas falling from his mouth. he's pressing kisses against the open wound, a silent apology as he begs to be touched by you. the pain doesn't feel that bad now. it's numbed as his cockhead presses against your wet heat, wanting an entrance. you can only hear his ragged breathing as his tongue laps up the blood. your heart races against each other, the two of it throbbing with only both your flesh and bones separating them from mauling each other.

it's a miracle how he hasn't combusted yet. however, you hold onto that as he shoves the first inch inside. you've barely stretched yourself with two fingers and you almost wish you took more. the stretch of his cock punches a moan out of you, unwilling. the little thing above you whines and moans, "so good, so good, you feel so fucking good." it's the only thing he can muster in his brain as your cunt grasps him in a tight embrace, slick gushing around it as it tries to ease the slide.

"so good," he draws out in a tight moan. "i've never... you—i can't fucking believe it." you almost forgot the nerd was a virgin. "you feel so good around me. your pussy is so tight but it's, oh my god, it's opening up so nicely. so nicely for me."

your hands tangle itself in his hair after you pulled his hood down. "yeah, is it how you imagined? how does my pussy feel in comparison to your hand?" he's barely understandable with how fast he repeats so good so good so good. without prompting, one of his gloved fingers reach down to play with your clit. mostly the men need a signal or even a guide to do that. the leather is an odd feeling against such a sensitive area. still, it's not unwelcomed. you moan freely, your legs moving to wrap itself behind him. you want him to start moving. you need him to.

"come on," you goad, "need your fat cock inside me. you gotta start fucking me how you did in your fantasies, baby." then, that he does. he pushes inch by inch in, making you moan with the delightful and painful stretch. it's a feeling you're never going to tire yourself from. his cock splits you open more than anyone ever could. he presses it nice and deep, the tip kissing your g-spot gently. he doesn't move his hips, the vice around his cock too tight. he understands immediately and flicks your clit, a rapid motion that has you grinding against his hold.

that gets him to move. he starts to fuck his cock in and out of you. it's slow, pulling out until the tip is left just for him to fuck it deep again. his playful hand gets distracted but it's okay. every thrust you're groaning, your head having swivelled backwards from the pleasure. it's getting your legs to numb out. his balls slap against your ass and there's lewd sounds of skin slapping with echoing moans from the both of you. it's textbook erotic. you crave his cock just as much as he's craving your pussy.

"faster, come on." he's a show dog who's memorised all his cues. he moves his hips faster, opting for a more chaotic pace to chase both of your orgasms. he moves his hand again, a slower and more gentle act of circling in contrast to the impaling of his cock. your cunt is leaking in wet arousal as your breath is stolen from you. you can barely feel your legs when he's going ballistic. he mouths delightfully at your face now, just shy of kissing you.

you don't let his fantasy go to waste. eagerly, you tilt your head so your lips meet in unified desperation. he's moaning into the kiss. his pace stutters as he loses himself to the pleasure of being kissed. you're not surprised if you took all of his firsts tonight. in eager motions, he's chasing his orgasm orgasm. his first orgasm inside a cunt raw. you don't really mind that he's without a condom. you know you're safe when you've made everyone who tapped to wrap it up. this little killer of yours is, of course, a special exemption.

"'m gonna cum," he whines, dick hammering into your cunt. "gonna cum inside your pussy. gonna make it mine. gonna breed your pussy and you're gonna be all mine, all mine, all mine."

his free hand goes to grip your waist with one final thrust, both of you pulled into waves of orgasm. he's cumming inside of you and you mirror as you squirt all over him. the orgasm is intense as he gently plays with your clit, easing it with a slow lull. all of it becomes just a bit too much and you're writhing beneath him. he gets the point and moves away, carefully moving out of you.

in between the post haze, you feel the sheets move beneath you and you lay on the mattress. he wraps you in his arms and you're being embraced by the warmth of his body and the feel of his tongue against your lips. his kissing could be improved, you think with a laugh. that pulls him out of his cocoon-like touches. an insecure question of, "what are you laughing at?" has you smiling a little.

you answer him truthfully, "you fuck like a menace and kiss like a virgin. it's cute though, don't get me wrong." he blushes like a virgin too. you can't help but squish his cheeks. "gosh. you're adorable," the fog thins and you smell the corpse rotting at your feet, "and... you're a serial killer. how are you going to get rid of that dead fucking body?"

he looks down, almost surprised that there was a dead body there. "oh," he says, quite dumbly, "i actually don't know. i really did plan to kill you and then kill myself afterwards. i don't want to go to jail."

oh. o-fucking-kay.

you two sit up and you pull at your hair. the golden curls fall in front of your face in anger. "why the fuck would you go through all this just because you couldn't get some pussy?" he's about to answer you and you know he's going to repeat his monologue. "no, no. okay, i get it. i'm sorry. but seriously, i don't want to die and i don't want to go to jail because i fucked the murderer." this is bad. his knife is on the bed and you're thinking about just stabbing him.

wait, that could work. you grab the knife quickly and stab him. that immediately gets him to yelp, "what the actual fuck!?" he glares at the knife in his stomach then at you, "why would you do that?" he's looking at you like he's about to cry. you actually feel a little bit bad.

"sorry," you say, letting go. "i just needed to come up with a story." you pull your hair back, sitting cross-legged in front of him. "so, you were fucking me. he came here and tried to kill the both of us. he's all jealous that i was fucking other people—sounds familiar? yeah, well, this time, i kill him with this knife and now he's framed for the murder. assuming, of course, you don't have any incriminating evidence inside your house."

"no," he groans, hands hovering above the handle in wanting to get it out but knowing it should be stuck in. "your cameras are all dead too, by the way. it's been dead for a few days and no one saw the two of you when you sneaked inside from the back door. no one saw me too."

"great!" you promptly pull out the knife and he screams. "sorry! sorry! i just need to stab it inside of him and then call the cops." you put the knife right where he put it in earlier, right between his crotch. if this all goes well, you all go home without a worry. if it goes bad, well, you could always run away, right? you look at the killer bleeding, cock out and cum dribbling down his thighs and squirt on his stomach. you don't think both options are that bad.

"the costume?" he asks, looking down head to toe at himself. you're about to undress him gleefully and play dress-up with a dead body.

written and posted by thefavouritelamb

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

Can I request a virgin!slasher x slutty!final girl? Where she rejected him of course and slept with everyone but a loser like him and now she has no choice and oh wait... why is he kinda hot tho 😳, and is that a sleeper build under that blood soaked cloak, wait his face is kinda cute without those nerdy glasses too- oh! She thinks she likes this one ☺️

Bro has no idea what's gonna hit him

request !! fic link here

i'm back! this was honestly kinda fun to write and i made it kinda a bit hysterical at the end. i hope this was worth the wait and this is also kind of to show that i have a new account! this is so that i can like actually have mutuals on this god foresaken taboo i've made. i'm not going to be posting on here anymore but i'll be reblogging my posts from that account in case anyone doesn't know i've moved yet

(i have like 700 followers here... please see my move)

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

the DoL new update makes me sob fuck u mean MY VIRGINITY CAN BE SOLD ???

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

gonna be back w/ a writing sched soon ! getting thru the holidays rn so shit is tricky. also, patreon gonna be down for a bit cuz it's being a bitch </3

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

chat... how do we feel about making janitor.ai for my yanderes/ocs

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

hello! i wanted to ask, did you make your graphics yourself? or did you commission / ask someone to make them for you? i think its very pretty :3

ty anon !! ya i made them my own. i rlly just only use one coloring and hope for the best when making the graphics lmaoo. but yea, ty. if u have any questions of how i made it or the coloring, i culd def post it or explain how i made it

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

okay i knew degrees of lewdity had lore but no one told me it had Biblical fucking Lore.

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

Hello!!! I saw this blog of yours an our ago and I'm obsessed!!! Can I make a request if u don't mind?

Summary : The nerd girl is trapped in an empty classroom with a student council. Unfortunately the student council was very sadistic and he's been interested in her a long time ago.

Tags : m!yandere x fem!reader (I'm not sure what to tag more it's up to you LMAO)

feel free to ignore this if you busy/uncomfortable, I js wanna say ur blog is very cool(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

request !! fic link here

this has been in my drafts for so long now... anyways, hope you still liked it tho. i don't wanna seem like i ignored it out of business. still, hope u enjoyed. feel free to send me asks

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

THE BITCHING PROJECT

[ patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms ]

— it's like you were secretly asking for this !! degration kink, rough sex, dubious consent, deflowering, light dumbification, semi-public sex, manipulation ✧ ft.: yandere student council ✧ cast: nerd f!reader

His hand grasps your hair as you choke around his girth. There's tears brimming in your eyes. Anxiety and confusion are washed away by the growing arousal in your stomach—this isn't normal. You've never been treated like this before. He's using your mouth like a ragdoll.

"Fuck," he moans, obsessing over the way your unexperienced tongue lays flat on the underside of his cock. "Such a good fucking bitch. How does it feel with your nose buried in my cock and not some books, huh?"

Nothing prepared you for the way this man is in the dim light: he's unlike his smile like a warm setting sun, hands tender to the brief passing touch, and voice an echo of hope and cheer.

He's fucking your throat like it's his newest assignment. Studiously, he memorises the plump of your lips and the heat in your throat. There's something primal yet meticulous about how he thrusts into your mouth. It's like he's thought this over and over again.

Your hands struggle for grip on his hips; he won't relent in his pace. Dizziness presents as you can't think straight—his cock the only thing that you can think of.

A guttural moan leaves him. "Can't believe you'd fall for some s-stupid shit like this. Now you're all fucking mine—" he pulls out, the head of his cock on your lips—"you like that, huh? Like belonging to me? I'll make you forget about your classes and I'll keep your cunt strapped on my cock instead."

There's a string of saliva that connects his cock to your lips. He plays with it, having fun smearing it all over your chin. The humiliation is tattooed in your brain.

You agreed to meet him because the Dean planned to give you the scholarsip—something you've been working so hard for. It's a lie. How could you have known someone from the student council would lie to you just to get their dick wet?

"Hey, hey," he pulls you up, sitting you on a desk. "What are you thinking about, baby? You're thinking too hard. Come on, I know you feel good."

And you do. Because after all of this, you still got a big fucking crush on him.

"S-stop it, please," you try to say. "I'm... I'm sorry if I did anything wrong but—"

He laughs. "You did nothing wrong. I love you, I do. But you're just to gullible. You have to know how adorable you look when you think everything you want is going to be handed over to you on a plate."

Red paints your face. Your heart churns at his words but he's standing between your legs with his cock wetting the inside of your thighs. Your cunt is being exposed with an easy pull of your panties to the side. The conflict of arousal and humiliation is too much to handle.

"How about this, hm? I'm going to fuck you better and tomorrow, let's see you beg for the Dean's cock to get that scholarship?"

There's contradictions on your tongue. It's taken out of you when he pulls your hips—his cock sliding between your folds and fucking you raw.

"F-fuck!" You cry. It's too big. His cock stretches you more than your fingers ever had, easily breaking the littlest resistence your hymen had. It makes you cry. Your heart hammers against your ears. It pulses in time with your cunt convulsing around him.

He's breathing against your cheeks; with the way he's out of breath, it's like he's enjoying taking your virginity like this. "Holy... fuck—did you never have a guy in here before?" he asks, as if he needs confirmation. "You're so fucking tight. I need you to loosen up for me, babe."

Not a single effort was made to get you to relax. He pulls back and fucks you right in, ignoring your pained little whimpers as it's being overshadowed by your moans. You're conflicted but he's so assured. Though your brain runs wild, your pussy sucks him in and is getting wetter by the second.

"So fucking good," he moans. "Tight fucking slut for me."

"I've never—agh! Never... had—!"

He chuckles as he bruises your hips with his hold. "I can fucking tell, baby. Shit. I can feel your cute little pussy hug my cock so tight. You love it so bad, don't you? I bet you fucking waited to be defiled by a cock this big."

You can barely muster a breath, nonetheless a word to deny him. It’s cruel how he pistons his hips. Your legs are in the air, toes clenching as half of his cock barely breaches inside of you. You’re gripping him with a vice, the pain dulling with the hot moans he breathes through your skin.

“God, that’s it,” his mouth instinctively opens as he spreads your folds open. Your pussy is spread. on the girth, his eyes trained onto where his cock disappears inside of you. You can tell he’s lost himself in the sensation when he has to swallow down his own spit.

He’s moaning, a growl emitting from him when you squeeze him. “Loosen the fuck up!” His hand presses against your stomach, trapping you on the wooden desk. “God, shit. For someone eager to take a cock in you’re so not prepared.”

The new angle just rubs your g-spot. A strangled moan involuntarily leaves you, his response being a dark grin spreading on his face. Knowing now, he continues to rubs up that spot. You want to pull your legs together but it’s tightly locked in his grasp. Toes curling, you tense up as he thrusts faster inside of you.

“S-so…” you gasp, hands gripping the edge of the table as you move with the force of his thrusts. “So fucking—so fucking good, haaah..!”

With each thrust, you lose yourself to the pleasure. Your cunt perfectly welcomes him in, even sucking him inside just to keep it rubbing against those nerves. You don’t remember a time feeling this good. The stretch is almost gone. Broken cries of pleasure are being punched out of you. He’s merciless and chases his own high, yet you’re being dragged along as you feel yourself soak and leak.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “I knew you’d love being fucked by me. I’ve been…. shit! I’ve been seeing you shake your cute little ass since you came. here. Knew you were so desperate to be claimed by me.”

He groans low in his throat. Swiftly, he throws your legs together on one side of his shoulders, fucking his cock deep inside of you. The new angle reaches further, your legs shaking from the intense feeling of being used like a toy for him. Your pleasure is undeniable. If you could see yourself, you would see your wet cunt drooling as your face is molded into a face of intoxication.

You can’t help it anymore. The slow yet deep thrusts spreads tingles from your pussy to the rest of your body. “‘m close…” you mutter, struggling to find diction. “So close—hng!”

“I didn’t hear you, “ he pulls on your hair from the roots, tugging it with enough force to electrocute your nerves there. “I can’t fucking hear you with your pussy gushing all over me.”

Cheeks turning a bright red, you try to cover yourself as he thrusts deep and short for emphasis. You can hear yourself make wet sounds with each movement. His words only make you wetter.

Trying to gather yourself, you take a deep breath with a hand over head your head. “I wanna cum, I need it so bad please… Need to cum on. your cock so b-bad!” You cry, surprised you could even form words when all you can think. about is that hot rod inside of you.

He’s forgiving. “Good fucking girl,” he sighs in relief as he continues his animalistic thrusts. The desk creaks each time and you would be worried for its durability if not for his hand lowering to play with your clit.

“Cum for me, cum for your new owner.”

The cock breaching your once-virgin pussy and the your clit being fondled only ushers you closer and closer to an orgasm. You couldn’t even warn him. With both hands reaching for his shoulders, a moan leaves you so loud you’re so everyone in the hallway could hear you.

You’re shivering. Your body is worn out and his cock pulls out of you—your orgasm flowing out as his own spurts on your face to your neck. He had clumsily aimed at your face, the angle awkward with your body half sat on the table. But the liquid splashed to your a bit of your lips, the taste of his release odd yet so erotic.

“Shit,” he mutters, the relief washing over him. You can see the satisfaction in his face; the slight upward tilt of his smile, the heavy breathing, his eyes examining every part of your body, all of it a testament to his amusement to having just defiled you.

There’s no need to speak. Finally, for the first time, he pushes his lips against yours.

In your years living, you haven’t given away your first kiss. In this moment, he had successfully taken two first times with you. His kiss reflects his previous desire to make his mark in your cunt. Breath hot, he pushes his tongue inside your mouth and is determined to lick every part of it.

You’re weak in his grasp. Every limb is numb and your pussy is still tingling. He’s kissing you how he wants as you simply struggle to breathe correctly. Your head is dizzy. There’s a cloud within your thoughts, simply unable to comprehend anything that is happening.

With a bite to your lower lip, that grounds you back to reality. He laughs into the kiss before placing his lips on your neck.

“So fucking dumb now,” he laughs, “don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you’ll get a reward for servicing my cock.”

Being his broken-in slut doesn’t seem so bad.

UPDATE ! 📢 @wiltedpoison @elloredef @alureasoley

@ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 this story is original and is not allowed to be shared without credits. do not plagiarise, feed to ai, or claim as yours.

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

THE SMOKE BURNING DAYLIGHT

( 𝐈𝐈 )   ─── ⠀ׅ⠀ 𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐒 (THE DOG)   ׅ   

you place your hand in his mouth and are relieved at the sharpness of his teeth

CALLING FOR 🐶 ? with canines sharper than the average, he smiles like his teeth aren't stained with carnage. brunette strands of hair poke at every direction. he's unkempt. he's wild. his lips are brittled with the smoke he inhales and the chew he unconsciously does.

LAST CALL ! those red eyes are a menace. yet they soften, they brighten, they become weak when capturing their favourite company. the stray is never a stray; its home was carried in his heart, only awaiting for someone to open the door.

hybrid dogboys monsterboys knotting breeding kink bite marks scenting posessive behaviour obsessive behaviour master kink

⠀   𝘄𝘄𝘄 . atlas' archive  /  “ask me anything, master”   . 𝗱𝘃𝗲

@ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 this character is original and is not allowed to be used without credits. do not plagiarise, feed to ai, or claim as yours.

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

gonna write an actual fic soon cuz someone requested one. someone save me

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

the idea of a YAN!WITCH speaks to me because you know that fucker is going to act like your friend, trick you, fuck you under a spell, and lock you with a magic collar to keep you in his fucking hut.

patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

witches aren't always deceitful. actually, maybe most witches would want to help you get out of this haunted forest. their choice to live there is only because it has the most ingredients to potions that they could profit off of.

but this witch? he stays in the forest because he is the danger. he knows he's obsessessive. the pile of rotting corpses and frayed bones in his storage room is proof of it. he finds someone lost, takes them in like a good witch, use magic on them, and play with them until they eventually rot in their mortal body.

and he sees you. you're different. you're a different breed. you're innocent, but not quite clueless. you're trusting, but not naive. you can stand up to him but you say it so fucking meekly he doesn't know what to do to you!

well, that's a lie. he does know. you come in here, like any other human, and he invites you in as always. but this time—you refuse. it's clich�� and typical of him to be so hung up on someone like you. still, its effective. he tries everything to get you inside: threats of monsters, the impending true darkness, the coldness of the night, everything.

it's only when he promises you food do you actually come in. he should've tried that in the first place.

so you come in, all wide eyed at his cabin and loving all the decor inside. you, of course, don't notice the potion he slipped in your drink. you even compliment the taste—so fucking helpless.

what's a wonder is that he didn't even need to give you some sort of love potion (love potion is a tacky name. he prefers elixir of submission). before you even pass asleep, your eyes drift down his body and blush a hot pink when he notices you staring.

you're lustful and needy. it doesn't take you long to open up to him because he learns you're so touch starved. but your eyes close as he kisses down your neck and fondle your body.

it's a shame that you're asleep. but then again, you asked for this. he continues to fondle you before you even wake up and beg for his cock, unknowing your lips already enveloped it.

his playthings really only last the mortal's average lifespan. but you, he would like to keep you a little longer. once you drink from him again, your body will regenerate and allows you to live just a few years more in this beauty of an appearance you have.

he can't wait for eternity.

UPDATE ! 📢 @wiltedpoison @elloredef @alureasoley