𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭

♡ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; ♡ WC. 1,184

He was the only one who stayed.

Even when your friends turned their backs, when the people who once looked at you with warmth began to avert their eyes, whispering like you were a warning not a woman, he was there.

You never asked him to be.

He came like the sound of bells at twilight—familiar, lovely, inexplicably eerie. You remember the first time you saw him. Not the physicality—your memory refused to hold his face. But the sensation? That stayed. Like something brushing the back of your neck with fingers too gentle to belong to anything human. You didn’t trust it. You didn’t trust him.

But he never gave you reason to fear. That was the worst part.

He listened.

He held you when your own voice betrayed you in front of people you used to think loved you. He never told you that you were wrong, only asked questions that made you question yourself. Just the right ones. About how often your friends interrupted you. How often they belittled your ideas with laughter that wasn’t cruel—but dismissive. Subtle. He helped you see it.

“They don’t hear you,” he said one night, his mouth close to your ear, breath warm against your skin. “They pretend to, but they never listen. I do.”

And you couldn’t deny that. He did. He remembered things you forgot telling him. He noticed when your voice changed before you even realized you were upset. He told you things you didn’t want to admit—but wanted someone to understand. And he always did. Too well.

He never kissed you.

But there were moments he could have. When the world was silence and your body remembered you were still alive only because his gaze made you burn. When your knees trembled and your thoughts stuttered, because he looked at you like he already had you.

He touched you like you were breakable, but only when you were already shattered. Only when it would seem kind.

He never asked you to stop fighting. Never told you to lie down. Just… waited. Waited until you couldn’t trust your own reflections in the mirror. Waited until the words of others, once sweet, began to taste like vinegar on your tongue. And when you brought it up—when you said, trembling, that you thought something was wrong—he only looked at you with soft pity.

“They’re afraid of you,” he murmured. “They don’t even know why. But I do. I know what you carry.”

There was reverence in his voice. Like he loved you. Like he worshipped you. And something darker underneath that. A hunger disguised as awe.

You wanted to believe him.

But he never let you rest in certainty. Not for long.

You started noticing patterns. Friends who stopped replying. Messages that never reached you, or so they claimed. Whispers—about your intensity, your unpredictability. Your mind. That you needed help. That something was wrong.

You confronted them. Calmly. Logically. But your words twisted in their mouths. Your concerns became accusations. Your memories became distortions. It was never them. Always you.

And he would be there again, just after. A shoulder. A solace. A small smile that never reached his eyes.

“You’re not crazy,” he’d say, brushing hair from your cheek. “They just don’t want to see.”

It felt true. It had to be true.

Didn’t it?

Even your family stopped looking at you the same. There was always love—but distance too. Pity. Thinly veiled fear. They never said it outright. But they didn’t have to. You felt it in how they changed the subject. How they spoke to you in slow, careful tones like you were unstable, fragile, maybe even dangerous.

You stopped talking. Stopped explaining. Because it didn’t matter.

Only he understood.

“There’s something in you that terrifies them,” he said one night, as you stood in your kitchen, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes. “Something they can’t name, but I can.”

You asked him what that was.

He smiled, the kind of smile that left your blood running cold despite the warmth on his lips.

“Truth.”

That night, he stayed. Not in your bed. Not even touching you. Just standing near. Watching. A sentinel in the dark.

And you dreamed of fire.

✦✧✦✧

He changed after that. Or maybe you only started seeing it clearly. He no longer softened his words. He didn’t need to.

You were too tired to run.

He told you things no one else would know. Your thoughts. Your dreams. Things you never said aloud, never dared to write down. He spoke of the rot in people’s souls, the hidden things behind their smiles. He said you saw it too—that’s why they hated you.

He told you that you weren’t paranoid. That you weren’t delusional. But every time you tried to ground yourself in logic, in rationality, something would unravel again. Someone else would turn on you. And always he would be there.

He always came closer when you were weakest.

And part of you started wondering: what if he wasn’t just helping you survive the isolation?

What if he was the cause?

But that was impossible, wasn’t it? He had never hurt you. Not directly. Not obviously. He had always been kind. Patient. Watching you like you were the only holy thing left in the world.

Except…

He never told you to go back.

He never encouraged you to trust anyone else.

He never let you forget your pain, only amplified it with quiet sympathy and the careful framing of facts. A narrative shaped by soft, velvet-gloved hands. Like a sculptor shaping clay.

And you were softening.

Even now, even here—standing alone in your living room, eyes rimmed red, heart hollow—he pressed closer. Not physically. But spiritually. You felt him. Like an ache between your thighs, a pressure in your chest, a whisper in the ear of your soul.

“They will never love you like I do.”

Your breath hitched.

He never touched you, but everything he did felt like touch. Every word, every look, every breath of silence between you two felt like fingers wrapped around your throat, not to choke—but to claim.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to run. But you didn’t.

Because he had been the only one who stayed.

Because everyone else had left.

And maybe… maybe that was because of you. Maybe you were broken. Maybe they were right.

Or maybe—just maybe—they saw something you didn’t.

His hand brushed yours. Not accidental. Not innocent. Just barely enough to make your pulse race, your thoughts blur, your body burn. He leaned in close, voice a breath.

“Let them go. Come home to me.”

You looked at him. Finally, really looked.

There was beauty there. Beauty that sickened. Not because it was wrong, but because it was almost right. His face was perfect. Too perfect. His eyes held galaxies—and something crueler. Something old. Something holy that had forgotten what it meant to kneel.

You whispered, barely audible: “What are you?”

He didn’t answer.

He only smiled.

And behind that smile—truth unspoken:

He was your angel.

And your cage.

And he wasn’t done with you yet.

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♡ List of Fandoms and Characters.

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.

Ace Attorney: Godot (Diego Armando)

Arcane: Silco, Viktor (Dark Arc Viktor)

Blue Lock: Rin Itoshi, Ego Jinpachi

Boku no Hero Academia: Hawks (Keigo Takami), Dabi (Touya Todoroki)

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: Hiroki Dan

Death Note: Light Yagami, Teru Mikami

Demon Slayer: Muzan Kibutsuji

DC: Ra’s al Ghul, The Batman Who Laughs

Dishonored Series: The Outsider

Genshin Impact: Cyno (Corrupted AU), Zhongli (Corrupted AU)

Haikyuu!!: Oikawa Tooru, Atsumu Miya

Honkai Star Rail: Blade

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: Seunghyeon Kang

Hunter x Hunter: Illumi Zoldyck

I’m Not That Kind of Talent: Dion Hart

Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru, Suguru Geto (Post-Defection), Kenjaku

Kill The Hero: Woojin Kim

Love and Deepspace: Caleb

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Aamon

MONSTER: Johan Liebert

Naruto Shippuden: Itachi Uchiha

One Punch Man: Garou (Monster Form)

Reverend Insanity: Fang Yuan

TOUCHSTARVED: Kuras

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Gaster, Ink! Sans, Nightmare! Sans, Shattered! Dream

Wuthering Waves: Scar

Your Throne: Eros Orna Vasilios

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♡ A/N. lol

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Official TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @save4h , @rofkshinee , @songbirdgardensworld , @yanderedrabbles , @xileonaaaa , @neuvilletteswife4ever , @poopooindamouf , @imnotabot28 , @han11dh , @loserworld , @esthelily

❤︎ Fang Dokja’s Books.

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I’d Burn the World.

♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you’re searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution

♡ Book 6 [you are here]. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.

♡ Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourself—repeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.

♡ Book 7. Corpus Delicti (CD): Donum Mortis.

♡ Book 8. Malum Consilium (MC): Primordial Hunger.