♡ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; ♡ WC. 1,255
He doesn’t look at the woman pressing against him.
Or the man who offers a drink, the mercenary who leans too close, the noble who giggles behind a lace fan. They’re noise, background, and bait. All of them. All they ever are. NPCs.
But you—
He looks at you.
There you sit, again, across the fire. Knees tucked, chin resting, obedient as ever. Not once has your gaze lifted from the crackling flame, not once since the last town, the last tavern, the last smile some fool tried to pin on him like a badge. And every time, it’s the same.
You don’t flinch. You don’t twitch. You don’t react.
He should be relieved. You’re not jealous. You’re not needy. You’re perfect, really—silent, submissive, soft. You never question, never demand. Just follow. Just kneel. Just obey.
So why does it twist in his gut like rusted iron?
Why does it bother him so damn much?
He sharpens his blade, slow and rhythmic. Steel against stone, stone against steel. He watches you, watches how you breathe, watches how your back remains straight. Pretty. Still. Controlled.
Saintess, they call you. Light incarnate, untouched by sin, a vessel of healing and holiness.
He’s sullied you more than anyone ever could.
He owns your body. Bruised knees, teeth-marked thighs, wrists that still show the fading ghosts of his grip. But your soul—that part he can’t get to. He’s torn into your flesh, made you beg, choke, weep, and still—
Your gaze is glass. Clear. Unmoved.
It’s maddening.
He sets the blade down. The tavern’s quiet now, the usual rot of ale and desperation settling into the walls. No one dares speak to him anymore. Not after last night.
Not after what he did to the one who touched your hair.
The memory ignites something low in his spine. Not shame. Never shame. Something worse. Something primal. He’d gut himself before admitting it aloud, but the sight of you trembling under him, breath stolen from your lungs as he drove into you like punishment—
You were still quiet. Still you.
Even after he shattered every inch of your composure. Even as you sobbed and begged and whispered his name like it was a prayer—and not once did it sound like love.
Just surrender.
Just defeat.
Just… obedience.
He can’t stand it.
So tonight, he waits. Doesn’t let you undress. Doesn’t give you time to kneel or present yourself like you’ve been trained. No. Tonight, he grabs you by the throat before you speak, before you move, before that damn expressionless mask returns.
You gasp, lashes fluttering, but he doesn’t let you go. Slams your back against the wooden wall of the room you rented. Your legs dangle. Your eyes finally meet his.
Good. Now keep them there.
He wants to see it. The crack. The slip. The way fear takes root behind those holy eyes.
“You think I don’t see it?” he growls. His thumb presses just enough to cut your breath short, to make your mouth fall open in a half-silent gasp. “You think I don’t notice how dead you look whenever someone touches me?”
You don’t speak. You never do. Not unless he commands it.
“You don’t care.” His voice is low now, bitter. “You never did.”
His mouth crashes against yours—not a kiss, but a claim. His teeth find your lip, tear it raw. He drinks in the copper, presses his body flush against yours until your legs are pinned, spread, lifted.
“You’re mine. You get that?”
You nod.
“No. Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
It’s empty. Hollow. Polite. A goddamn courtesy.
He snarls and throws you to the floor.
Your knees crack against the wood. He watches you fold, gather yourself with perfect silence, blood trailing down your lip. Your hands go to unlace your bodice, to undress as you’ve been conditioned to.
“Don’t.”
Your hands freeze.
He undoes his belt instead. Lets you watch. Lets you wait.
His cock is already hard—he’s been hard since that bitch flirted with him two hours ago and you just stared into your stew like nothing happened. Like it didn’t matter.
“Open your mouth.”
You obey.
No hesitation.
Not even a blink.
He fucks your throat like it’s a sheath, not a mouth. Like you’re a tool, a puppet, a vessel. The wet gags and chokes only rile him up more. You’re drooling, eyes watering, and still—no anger. No shame. Just obedience.
He drags himself out, spit stringing between you, and yanks you to your feet by your hair. Slams you over the bed.
“You’re supposed to be a Saintess,” he hisses into your ear as he wrenches your skirt up. “You’re supposed to be pure.”
You don’t respond.
You never do.
When he slams into you, it’s with the rage of a thousand buried things. Not jealousy. Not pain. Not longing.
Control.
He fucks you like he’s punishing you for not feeling. For not flinching when that noble kissed his hand. For not weeping when that warrior licked his boots. For staying silent, still, obedient while his name left other mouths.
You’re tight around him. Warm. Willing.
But it isn’t enough.
“You’re nothing,” he spits. “You’re just a body. Just a hole. My fucking pet.”
Your fingers claw at the sheets. Your breath stutters.
But you don’t say no. You never say no.
“Fucking whore. Pretend all you want. You like it. You like being ruined. Don’t you?”
You nod. Voice hoarse. “Yes.”
Liar.
He pulls out and flips you, pins your wrists above your head with one hand while the other grips your throat again, harder this time. Watching your pupils dilate. Watching you struggle to breathe.
“Then prove it.”
His hips snap forward. You jolt. He doesn’t stop.
You gasp his name, broken, half-choked—but it’s still wrong. It’s not love. It’s never love.
Only surrender.
His pace is brutal. Every thrust meant to split you open. Your thighs tremble. Your back arches. You sob when he bites your neck hard enough to draw blood, to bruise.
Still not enough.
“You feel anything when they touch me?” he growls.
“No.”
It should be victory. But it burns.
He grabs your chin, forces your gaze to his. Your lips are red and swollen, your eyes dazed.
“Why?” he demands.
You stare at him like you don’t understand the question.
Why. Why the fuck does it matter to him?
He grits his teeth and fucks you harder, harder, until the bed slams into the wall with every thrust.
He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t fucking care.
Except he does.
He comes with a growl, burying himself deep inside you, holding you down so hard you can’t move, can’t think, can’t breathe.
And still—you just lie there.
Broken. Soft. Submissive.
His.
But never enough.
He pulls out. Watches the mess spill from you. Watches your thighs twitch, your breath stutter, your eyes flutter closed.
And he hates you for it.
Because you’re perfect.
Because you’re still here.
Because he’s starting to think he wants more than your obedience.
And that—
That terrifies him more than anything else in this rotten world.
He turns away.
He doesn’t look back.
But he listens.
Listens for your breath. Your heartbeat. The sound of you alive.
Because even if you never feel a damn thing for him—
He’ll never let you leave.
You’re his. His Saintess. His sin.
And if it takes breaking you a thousand more times to find whatever piece of your soul he hasn’t stolen yet—
He’ll fucking do it.
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♡ List of Fandoms and Characters.
♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.
Ace Attorney: Miles Edgeworth, Godot
Arcane: Silco, Viktor
Blue Lock: Rin Itoshi, Shidou Ryusei
Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi
Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A
Death Note: Light Yagami, Teru Mikami
Demon Slayer: Sanemi Shinazugawa
DC: Damian Wayne
Dishonored Series: Corvo Attano, Daud
Genshin Impact: Kaeya, Dainsleif, Scaramouche/Wanderer
Haikyuu!!: Ushijima Wakatoshi
Honkai Star Rail: Blade
How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A
Hunter x Hunter: Kurapika, Chrollo Lucilfer
I’m Not That Kind of Talent: N/A
Jujutsu Kaisen: Suguru Geto, Ryomen Sukuna, Megumi Fushiguro
Kill The Hero: Woojin Kim
Love and Deepspace: Caleb
Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Alucard, Dyrroth
MONSTER: Johan Liebert, Roberto
Naruto Shippuden: Sasuke Uchiha
One Punch Man: Garou
Reverend Insanity: Fang Yuan
TOUCHSTARVED: Mhin
Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Dust! Sans, Horror! Sans, Killer! Sans, Nightmare! Sans, Ink! Sans
Wuthering Waves: Calcharo
Your Throne: Eros Orna Vasilios
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
Official TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @save4h , @rofkshinee , @songbirdgardensworld , @yanderedrabbles , @xileonaaaa , @neuvilletteswife4ever , @poopooindamouf , @imnotabot28 , @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.
𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭 