♡ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; ♡ WC. 1,007
You wake again—if this is waking. If this isn’t just the edge of some fevered nightmare where pain is the only constant and time folds in on itself.
He’s already in the room.
Watching.
Like always.
You don’t know how long it’s been. The lights don’t change. There are no windows. Just the buzz of a single overhead bulb that hums like it’s burning out, casting the room in a pale, jaundiced glow that makes your blood look black.
And you’ve seen your blood. Every day.
Today, it’s already pooling beneath your hip, sluggish and sticky, from something he did hours ago—maybe with a knife. Maybe with his teeth. You can’t remember. You were screaming too hard to notice.
He crouches beside the bed, eyes level with yours. Clear and cold. Not angry. Not pleased. Just present.
“I was dreaming about you,” he says. “Dreaming about what it would take to make you break. To make you beg.”
You try to look away.
He grips your chin. Forces your gaze back.
“But begging isn’t enough anymore. You beg too easily now. Your tears are cheap.”
You flinch as he drags a needle across your thigh. Not deep. Not yet. Just a line. A warning.
He smiles when you jerk.
“You’re too aware today,” he murmurs. “That’s good. It means you’ll remember this.”
He climbs onto the bed slowly, knees caging your legs, his weight pressing down on your hips until you can’t breathe right. His cock rests heavy against your bruised stomach—already hard, already twitching—and you want to scream, but your throat is raw, scraped dry from too much.
He lifts the needle again.
“Don’t move.”
And you don’t.
You can’t.
He starts small. A careful push through the soft skin just above your navel. It stings sharp and immediate—nothing like a knife, nothing like his fists or the belt or the cane. This is slower. More intimate.
More deliberate.
Another needle. This time, just below your left breast.
He watches your face. Every twitch. Every bite of your lip to stifle the cry.
“Pretty little pincushion,” he whispers. “I could map constellations in you.”
You cry silently, tears leaking sideways into your hair. He doesn’t wipe them. He likes them.
His mouth finds your throat—dry lips against broken skin. He sucks a bruise where one already blossoms purple. You flinch, and the needle shifts. Fire burns under your skin.
He groans.
“God, you react so perfectly. Like you were made for this.”
He strips you fully—what little fabric you had left torn down your legs and tossed aside. Your arms are too weak to cover yourself. Your good wrist is chained above your head. Your bad arm lies useless, twisted, numb.
You can smell yourself. Sweat and blood and him. It clings to your skin like rot.
“You’re disgusting,” he says, almost fondly. “But you’re mine.”
He opens a drawer. Pulls out a new set of needles—longer, thicker. He holds one up to the light like it’s art.
Then he drives it through your nipple.
The scream you let out is raw. Pure. A different kind of agony. And he moans at the sound.
“Perfect,” he whispers. “So fucking perfect.”
He sucks around the fresh wound, tongue lapping at the blood, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. He grinds his cock against your thigh, smearing precum into the bruises he left yesterday.
“You think I care if you hate me?” he asks softly. “You think you can make me stop by pretending you’re not loving this?”
You shake your head. Or maybe you nod. It doesn’t matter. He sees what he wants to see.
He flips you onto your stomach. Your shoulder screams in protest, but he doesn’t pause. Just kicks your thighs apart and shoves a pillow under your hips.
He slides in dry.
You scream again, but it’s hoarse. Weak. His hand clamps over your mouth, pinning your face to the stained sheets.
“Shut up,” he growls. “You’re so loud when you’re getting what you deserve.”
His thrusts are brutal. He’s fucking you like a punishment. Like he wants to fuck the fight out of you.
And it’s working.
You tremble under him, body spasming with each deep, bruising stroke. He spits on your back. Slaps your ass until the bruises overlap like an artist layering paint.
“You’re just a body,” he pants. “A hole. Meat to fuck and bleed.”
His hand wraps in your hair. He yanks your head back so your spine arches. So you can’t breathe right.
“Tell me what you are.”
You sob. “N-not—”
He slams into you harder. “Wrong answer.”
“I—I’m yours,” you gasp. “I’m—”
“Say it right.”
“I’m… I’m your fucktoy. Your hole. Y-your thing.”
He groans. The praise is instant—vile and warm against your neck.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl.”
His rhythm changes. Rougher now. Less precise. He’s close. You can feel it in the way he bites your shoulder, reopening old wounds, tasting your blood like wine.
You’re bleeding from everywhere. Between your legs. From the punctures. From your mouth.
You’re a ruin.
And he’s in love with it.
When he comes, it’s deep and possessive—hips pressed flush, cock twitching inside you, filling you with heat and filth. He stays buried there for a moment, panting against your spine.
Then he pulls out.
Lets it leak.
You don’t move.
You can’t.
He turns you back over, stares down at what’s left.
There’s blood everywhere. Dried on your thighs. Your chest. Smearing the sheets. He gathers a bit of it with his finger and paints it across your lips.
“Lick.”
You obey. You always do. Now.
He smiles.
“See? You’re learning.”
He kisses your forehead.
Then slaps you. Hard. Just once. Enough to leave a mark.
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he says, climbing off the bed. “Don’t bleed out before then. Or do. Either way, I win.”
The door shuts.
The lock clicks.
Silence.
You stare at the ceiling.
You don’t know where you are anymore.
But you know this:
He’s not done.
Not even close.
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♡ List of Fandoms and Characters.
♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.
Ace Attorney: N/A
Arcane: N/A
Blue Lock: Michael Kaiser, Shidou Ryusei, Yoichi Isagi
Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi, Katsuki Bakugo
Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A
Death Note: N/A
Demon Slayer: Sanemi Shinazugawa
DC: Damian Wayne
Dishonored Series: N/A
Genshin Impact: Childe, Scaramouche
Haikyuu!!: Hajime Iwaizumi, Yūji Terushima
Honkai Star Rail: Blade, Boothill
How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A
Hunter x Hunter: Uvogin
I’m Not That Kind of Talent: N/A
Jujutsu Kaisen: Naoya Zen’in, Ryōmen Sukuna
Kill The Hero: Park Yong-Wan
Love and Deepspace: N/A
Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: N/A
MONSTER: N/A
Naruto Shippuden: Hidan, Zabuza Momochi
One Punch Man: Suiryu
Reverend Insanity: N/A
TOUCHSTARVED: Vere
Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Bill! Sans, Dust! Sans, Fresh! Sans, Ink! Sans, Killer! Sans, Nightmare! Sans, Shattered Dream! Sans, Underfell! Papyrus, Underfell! Sans, Undertale! Chara
Wuthering Waves: Scar
Your Throne: N/A
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
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.
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