β‘ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; β‘ WC. 1,008
The room reeks of sweat, blood, and your shame.
His belt still hangs halfway undone, the buckle glinting dully in the candlelight. The walls are stone, damp and unforgiving, soaked in the musk of rot and mildew. Chains clink when you breathe. Your wrists are red, bruised where he held you down. You’re trembling, but he isn’t.
He watches you like youβre a dying animal. Something caught. Caged. Your thighs still twitch, cum slipping out between them. The Saintess, he muses darkly. Holier than thou, mouth like silk, skin like milk, thighs like sin.
He shouldn’t have fucked you like that.
He shouldn’t have finished inside you like that.
But he did.
And worse, he liked it. Liked the way your eyes glassed over when he forced your legs open. Liked how you sobbed his name into the mattress, even when he spat in your mouth, even when he called you a filthy, broken little toy.
He liked it too much.
He doesn’t look at you immediately. Instead, he leans against the edge of the makeshift bedβa cot stained with both your fluidsβand rubs a hand down his face, knuckles scraped raw from the last dungeon boss. Heβs still in his gear, the steel plating at his shoulders stained with ash and blood. Not yours. Not this time.
He finally turns to you.
His gaze is sharp, slicing.
Youβre so small now. So fucking ruined. A Saintess? No. Not anymore. He made sure of that.
He crouches down beside you, slow like a predator who already knows the prey can’t run. You try to flinch away, but your arms barely respond. He catches your chin between his fingers. Tight.
“Look at me.”
You try. Eyes swollen from tears, lashes stuck together.
“Did I break you already?” he asks, voice low, sardonic. “Or are you still holding on to that bullshit about forgiveness and salvation?”
Your lip trembles. He hates that.
He hates that he wants to kiss it.
He does it anyway.
Soft. Too soft. The kiss is a mistake.
He tastes salt. From your tears, or his sweat, he doesn’t know. His tongue slides against your lip, just once, and then he pulls back like he’s been burned. He stares at you, really stares. And for the first time in all his rebirths, all his restarts, it hits him: he wants to keep you.
Not just own you.
Keep you.
That realization makes him sick.
He grabs your jaw harder, nails digging in. Your breath hitches, throat exposed, trembling under him like a lamb at the altar.
“You think you matter? You don’t. You’re just good holes, Saintess. Tight little cunt, warm enough to wrap around my cock. That’s it. Thatβs all you are now.”
You flinch again, but donβt cry. Youβre too emptied out. Too raw. That should please him.
It doesnβt.
He shoves you back down, hand fisting in your hair, holding you against the cot. You donβt resist. Not anymore.
“You were born to be defiled. Holy my ass,” he growls. “I should drag you back to the temple like this, make them all see what their little saint looks like now. See how your cunt still drips when I walk in the room.”
The mental image makes him hard again. The rage that blooms alongside it is worse. Rage at himself. At you.
Because you’re beautiful. Because you smell like winter and church incense even now. Because he shouldnβt want you like this, shouldnβt dream about keeping you leashed beside him like a pet, covered in his marks, his scent, his filth.
But he does.
He yanks your body up, drags you into his lap. Your legs dangle, limp. His arm wraps around your waist, too tight. He presses his nose to your neck, inhales the remnants of purity.
“Do you hate me yet?” he whispers.
You say nothing.
That silence cuts deeper than a blade.
He clutches you tighter.
“You should. I fucked you like a whore. Made you gag on my cock until you puked. Slapped you around until you begged. I ruined you.”
You tilt your head back slowly, barely able to hold it up, but your eyes meet his.
And he sees it.
That flicker of something. Not forgiveness. Not defiance. Justβ
Resignation.
It infuriates him.
“Say it,” he commands, breath hot against your skin. “Say you hate me. Say I disgust you.”
You whisper instead, voice so hoarse it scrapes: “Why do you keep kissing me?”
His stomach knots. He shoves you away so hard you fall, shoulders hitting the cot’s edge, pain flashing across your face. He towers over you now, shadow swallowing your limp form.
“Donβt confuse what this is,” he snaps. “You’re nothing. You’re loot. Youβre XP. Thatβs it.”
But his voice cracks.
You hear it. He knows you do.
He turns his back before you can see more. Storms across the room to the corner where your dress lies in a pile, torn and dirtied beyond repair. He crushes the fabric in his fist, breathing shallow.
He should kill you. Just end it. Get the EXP. Take your divine grace, harvest your soul like he did the others. The relic inside you alone could level him up tenfold.
But he doesnβt.
Instead, he comes back, dragging you onto your knees, forcing the ruined dress over your head like a mockery of modesty.
He binds your wrists again, tighter. So you wonβt run. Not that you could.
He cups your face once more. This time, gentler. Callused thumb wiping away the crusted blood by your lip. You shudder. Not from fear. From the way his touch lingers.
He wants to slit his own throat for it.
“You’re mine,” he mutters, half to himself. “Even if I have to carve it into your skin, make it your fucking truth.”
You donβt answer. He likes that more than he should.
He leans in again.
And kisses you.
Not soft, not cruel.
Real.
A mistake.
But this time, he doesn’t pull away.
And thatβs what truly terrifies him.
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β‘ List of Fandoms and Characters.
β‘ 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
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β€οΈ Fang Dokja’s Books.
β‘ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:
β‘ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology
β‘ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.
β‘ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I’d Burn the World.
β‘ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.
β‘ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.
β‘ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarianβs Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.
β‘ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblrβs 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
β‘ Book 6 [you are here]. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.
β‘ 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 yourselfβrepeated 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.
β‘ Book 7. Corpus Delicti (CD): Donum Mortis.
β‘ Book 8. Malum Consilium (MC): Primordial Hunger.
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