#it’s just flat it’s static

[manqo]

i wish my distractions weren’t sabotaging but rather productive

[hinamie]

hi hina ok ok fun challenge for u: for yuuji megumi nobara and gojo pick one shot from the anime and one panel from the manga where you think they look s tier <3

ooh okokok challenge accepted

yuuji:

megumi:

nobara:

making me include gojo smh i know u did this on purpose

can u tell i have a a thing for fight scenes....

[stormbreaker-290]

Ca n

Can someone just

Can I pretty please be rid of my booba I don't want tgem-

[dragonpropaganda]

something I love about rain world lore is that it gestures towards the sky being solid like two times and doesn't elaborate at all

[gomzdrawfr]

Big big fan of the two little whisps of hair in the hairline for some of the doodle 141 boys, especially with Skull Barista and his silly slick back and flustered Soap. Absolutely adorable, thank you for your service

Thank you!! I like adding them to Price, Nik and Ghost sometimes :3 slick back hair IS MY WEAKNESS <3

[oswednesday]

its one of those things is it a Rule of Threes style joke like one thing obvious one thing less obvious one thing a complete joke, or are they all related as One thing and i feel with gf writing style is could go in either direction fdfd

[shootinwebs]

alastor: i love you, angel, but sometimes i can't fathom how you're "employed" by a man who has sex with a TV.

angel: i know, and he's not even a tube TV anymore. you wouldn't even get tickled in the face by the static if you kissed him.

alastor: ...why am i surprised that you've thought about this.

[dragon-subway]

so I like looking through housing listings for entertainment and honestly something I've noticed is that if you can get that initial 10% the mortgage for a decently sized place can be cheaper than rent for much shittier places

[vstheworld]

bout to fuck around and become a prep cook

[arthyritis]

The bad thing about my hair being at the length I have to brush it now: STATIC ELECTRICITY OUGJ

[red-dyed-sarumane]

getting excited to see rime songs in the ranking until im forced to remember she's apparently the hardest synth ever for people to use

[exopelagic]

i can’t believe i managed to get fucking mono and didn’t even get it by doing anything fun

[tojisun]

simon grunts, his chest heaving as he palms at his chub, tracing the twitching muscle of his cock and letting out a hiss at the muted pleasure that razes through him. he shivers at the heated look you give him, your pretty eyes awash with desire, scalding as it trails down the lines of his bulk until it settles on his flesh.

“ah,” you whisper and simon nearly moans at the awe in your voice.

“s’right, baby,” he says, feeling the way he pulses underneath his low-hanging sweats. “s’all f’r you.”

there is a whine that drags itself from the base of your throat, so primal in the way it scratches your vocal cords, and simon has to fist his cock to stop himself from rutting against his palm.

“i can’t,” you whine, pouting, your eyes still trained on his groin. “‘m gonna be late for work.”

“please,” he croaks out, breathless himself. “how about jus’ the tip, love? jus’ give daddy a taste of you ‘round me, yeah?”

simon knows it is playing dirty to pull this card on you—to exploit your one weakness—but simon’s guilt is tucked underneath his stretching need, the desire bloating as it leaks past his rationality, leaving him with thinning restraints.

your sharp inhale is all the answer he needs.

he bites the inside of his cheek to tamp down the smirk dancing to the corners of his lips.

“okay,” you reply, tentative and quiet. “but just the tip, you promise?”

“swear,” simon murmurs.

like a goddamn liar.

he relishes in the squeals dripping from your parted lips, only for them to be muffled into your pillow.

he’s got you on your knees, your front all but pressed flat on the bed, your arms having lost the energy to keep yourself up as simon fucks you from the back. he’s got fistfuls of your ass, using them as sweet, sweet leverage as he manhandles your body back to his cock.

“so good f’r daddy, sweet’art,” he rumbles, his voice so deep it even sounds foreign to him. “so, so fuckin’ good, love.”

he punctuates his words with hard thrusts; drawing his cock out slowly, deliberately torturous so he can watch the way your hole grips at his cock, not wanting to let him go, before punching it back in. he doesn’t stop and keeps pushing his cock past the gummy press of your walls until his hips are pressed flush to the fat of your ass.

then, he repeats the process—sharp snaps of his hips leaving you twitching, and simon watches with a crazed giddiness as your hands uselessly scratch at the sheets as though that could tether you.

he bends forward, his bulk covering your trembling body. “such a cute darlin’ for me, lovie.” he ruts his cock along a particular sweet spot. “say ‘thank you’ to daddy?”

he hears a warbled reply from where your head is pressed to your pillow.

“hmm? wha’s ‘at?”

simon cups a hand on your forehead and carefully pulls, tipping your head up just enough that he can hear you.

he hears a hiccuped sob, then, “than’ you, daddy.”

simon giggles and presses a kiss on the back of your head. “what a good doll y’are.”

something about that makes your body tremble, spasming in his hold, and simon watches with awe as your toes curl, before he has to let go of you at the sudden tightening of your walls. his eyes go white, his ears ringing with a sharp static.

he feels so, so overwhelmed at the expanding euphoria that washes over him, lapping at the synapses from the back of his skull to the cavity of his ribs.

“you came,” simon mutters in awe, his voice passing through his teeth like a gritted hiss. “christ, lovie-”

-

[fangdokja]

♡ TW. Dead Dove // Read at Your Own Risk ; ♡ WC. 1,056

Your boss is a fucking nightmare.

Cold, condescending, meticulous to the point of cruelty—he is the type of man who never needs to raise his voice. A mere glance from him can flay you open, strip you bare, expose every fault, every mistake you try to hide. You have spent months enduring his razor-sharp corrections, the way he watches you with that flat, dissecting stare, as if waiting for you to break.

Tonight, you are the last one left in the office with him.

It is past midnight. The fluorescents flicker, casting sterile light over rows of empty desks. The air is heavy with exhaustion, and your fingers tremble as you recheck the numbers for the third time because he “doesn’t trust your work.”

Then, you hear it.

Soft. Wet. Rhythmic.

At first, you ignore it—background noise, the hum of his computer, the rustle of paper. But the sound continues. Unchanging. Measured. An unmistakable, steady slickness.

Your skin prickles.

You don’t want to turn your head. Your body understands before your mind does, some primal dread curling in your gut, warning you don’t look. But the morbid need to confirm—to assure yourself that this is not what you think it is—compels you forward.

Step by step, you approach his office door. It is cracked open just slightly. Just enough.

You peek inside.

Your stomach turns.

He is reclined in his chair, head tipped back, his shirt undone at the collar. His tie—usually a noose of suffocating precision—is slack, hanging loosely around his neck. His hand moves with slow, deliberate strokes, fingers curled around the thick length of his cock, glistening with the obscene wetness of his own arousal.

Your pulse stops. Then it surges, a violent lurch of ice-cold horror.

But it isn’t just that.

The monitor in front of him glows, and on the screen—

A live stream.

A camera. A mic. The chat scrolling too fast to read, but you catch flashes of text—

God, he’s so controlled.

Look at the way he strokes it. He’s teasing us.

Imagine being in his office, on your knees…

Your body locks up.

And then—

His eyes open.

The moment stretches unbearably. He sees you. No hesitation. No shock. Just immediate, knowing acknowledgment.

His grip does not falter.

You react before your brain can catch up, your entire body moving in a desperate scramble to retreat—but the door swings open wider before you can escape, and suddenly, he is there. Looming over you, impossibly fast. A hand catches your wrist, firm, unyielding. The door slams shut behind you with a soft click.

“You shouldn’t have seen that.”

Your breath stutters. Your stomach twists in knots. “I—I won’t tell anyone,” you whisper, voice raw with panic. “I swear—”

A quiet laugh.

It’s low, almost amused. He is not angry.

He is thrilled.

“You think I’m going to take your word for it?”

You shake your head—no, no, please—but it doesn’t matter.

The camera is still on. The chat is still alive. And he is still hard.

He forces you forward, a firm, unrelenting shove that sends you stumbling against his desk. Your hands slam against the polished surface before you can fall, and through the static roar of your own panic, you see the screen still flashing with eager, insatiable hunger.

The chat is ecstatic.

Is she new?

Holy fuck, this is real.

Look at her shaking. Fuck.

Terror clutches your ribs like a vice. “No,” you whisper. “No, please—”

He grips your hair.

And forces you down.

The carpet burns against your knees. Your hands tremble against his thighs as he tilts your head up, his cock heavy and slick against your lips. The scent of him is overwhelming, musky and clean, a contradiction that makes you dizzy with revulsion.

“Open.”

You shake your head—

He doesn’t wait.

The first thrust punches the air from your lungs. Salty heat floods your mouth, thick and intrusive. Your throat convulses immediately, your body revolting against the intrusion, but he holds you there, fingers tightening in your hair like a leash.

You claw at his wrist, body heaving, choking—

“Breathe through your nose,” he instructs smoothly. His other hand brushes against your jaw, almost… gentle. Mocking. “You’ll take it better that way.”

Tears sting your eyes. You struggle, gagging as he sets a punishing pace, forcing you to take him, every inch, every slow, deliberate push into the wet heat of your mouth. Your own spit dribbles down your chin, obscene, slick strings connecting your lips to the base of his cock every time he pulls back.

The chat goes wild.

She’s struggling so much. Fuck.

Bet she’s soaking through her panties.

Train her. Make her your little office slut.

Your vision goes spotty. Panic claws at your ribs, at your throat, at your lungs screaming for air—

And then he pulls out.

You collapse forward, coughing violently, saliva smeared across your lips, your breath coming in sharp, frantic gasps. You barely have a second to recover before he grips your jaw, smearing the wetness across your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re making a mess,” he murmurs. “I should make you clean it up.”

You barely have the strength to shake your head.

He turns you over instead.

The desk is cold against your fevered skin as he presses you down, one hand firm between your shoulder blades. Your heart pounds so violently you think it might break your ribs.

“You feel that?” he breathes, voice a slow, dark purr. “That’s what you get for spying.”

You try to rise. Try to fight. But the second you move, his other hand slides between your thighs—

And freezes.

A soft chuckle.

“You’re soaked.”

Heat flares across your face, mortifying, wrong.

He presses against you, the thick head of his cock teasing your entrance, nudging, waiting—

On the screen in front of you, the chat begs for him to ruin you.

And then—

He does.

The first thrust rips through you, stretching you open, sharp, brutal, unrelenting. Your back arches as he buries himself inside, filling you too much, too deep, the pain deliciously unbearable.

“You’re gripping me so tight,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips. “Filthy little thing.”

You don’t want this.

And yet, your body betrays you.

And worst of all—

You know this won’t be the last time.

♡ List of Fandoms and Characters.

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

Ace Attorney: Barok van Zieks, Miles Edgeworth

Arcane: N/A

Blue Lock: Michael Kaiser, Rin Itoshi, Shidou Ryusei, Yoichi Isagi

Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi, Hawks, Katsuki Bakugo, Villain! Midoriya Izuku

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: N/A

Death Note: Light Yagami

Demon Slayer: Giyu Tomioka, Muzan Kibutsuji, Rui, Yoriichi Tsugikuni

Dishonored Series: Daud

Genshin Impact: Alhaitham, Ayato Kamisato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Kaeya, Pantalone, Scaramouche, Rex Lapis

Haikyuu!!: Atsumu Miya, Futakuchi Kenji, Kenjiro Shirabu, Oikawa Tooru, Osamu Miya, Suna Rintarou, Tendō Satori, Tetsurou Kuroo, Wakatoshi Ushijima

Honkai Star Rail: Anaxa, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Jiaoqiu, Mr. Reca, Nanook, Sunday

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: Seunghyeon Kang

Hunter x Hunter: Ging Freecss, Hisoka Morow, Illumi Zoldyck, Knov, Leorio Paradinight, Pariston Hill

I'm Not That Kind of Talent: Demon Aru, Duke Illuster Starbe

Jujutsu Kaisen: Kenjaku, Naoya Zen'in, Ryōmen Sukuna, Satoru Gojo, Shiu Kong

Kill The Hero: Park Yong-Wan

Love and Deepspace: Caleb

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Aamon, Claude, Gusion, Suyou

MONSTER: Johan Liebert

Naruto Shippuden: Deidara, Hashirama Senju, Hidan, Kakuzu, Madara Uchiha, Zabuza Momochi

One Punch Man: Amai Mask, Child Emperor, Stinger, Suiryu

Reverend Insanity: N/A

TOUCHSTARVED: Vere

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Bill! Sans, Dust! Sans, Error! Sans, Fresh! Sans, Ink! Sans, Killer! Sans, Shattered Dream! Sans, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Undertale Chara, Undertale Frisk

Wuthering Waves: Aalto, Brant, Scar

Your Throne: Eros Orna Vasilios

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood. Thank you.

Official TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @save4h , @rofkshinee , @songbirdgardensworld

❤︎ 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.

Test-Phase TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @yanderedrabbles

[jaewritesfic]

Melon!AU

Actual writing now, based on this post:

“What,” Tim breathes out faintly, “the fuck is that?”

Language, Bruce thinks faintly, though he doesn't manage to get it past his lips.

He is a man who prides himself on being ready for anything, but he most certainly didn't expect something like this when responding to the Batsignal tonight.

“That is a Pit Demon,” Damian's voice asserts through comms, grave in a way that betrays his collected mask. He's unnerved. “There is nothing else that could be.”

Bruce is unnerved too, though he refuses to show it.

Gordon had half the block cordoned off so no civilians would come through by the time Bruce and Tim - the closest at the time - had arrived on scene. The alley itself is blocked in by police cruisers, though the officers are staying very firmly behind the line and not approaching.

It's no wonder why.

The…thing backed into a dead end alley looks like it's made of smoke and shadow, all long sinuous lines and dangerous angles.

It's vaguely Humanoid in the sense that it has a long torso, arms and a head. The arms are too long, the fingers curved and wickedly sharp. The face is a well of deep shadow, a smooth slate broken only when it opens its jagged mouth to show off a full arsenal of fangs.

The only other facial features are the solid, glowing Lazarus green eyes. Wide and lamp-like, they give the distinct feeling that the creature's sights will not miss anything.

There are no legs. Just the sinuous curves and overlaps of a long smokey tail. It whips about with agitation.

Floating like mist on the water is a head of white hair, edges fuzzy and undefined like it can't decide whether it's a solid or a gas.

The creature lays with its chest nearly flat to the ground, propped up only by those horrifically sharp hands and poised like a predator ready to push off into a sprint.

Glowing Lazarus water seems to pool slowly beneath it, streaked here and there as evidence of past movement.

Bruce finally finds his tongue to question Damian. He can see his youngest standing on the opposite roof of he and Tim, the two buildings that form the alley their perch.

“You've seen something like this before?”

Damian hesitates. “...no. But there are stories of things coming out of the Pits. I doubt I need to explain why this seems to be one of them.”

With that color green shining out of its face and streaked across the alley? No. No, he doesn't.

“Do your stories have any clues on what to do when one shows up?” Tim asks, unable to tear his eyes away from the creature.

Damian scoffs. “Close your eyes and hope your end is quick.”

“Lovely,” Tim bites out, voice a little higher pitched than normal.

“We won't be doing that,” Bruce responds dryly, two taps coming through the comms notifying them of Black Bat's arrival.

Bruce looks up and has to search for her for a few seconds before he can make her out in the shadows of Damian's rooftop.

“I'm still five minutes out,” Dick comms in. “What exactly are we looking at here? Can Oracle give a visual with any cams?”

“I wish,” Oracle chimes in. “Even through the mask footage I have no idea what they're seeing. The feed is corrupted to hell and back whenever it's in frame.”

“Really? In person it looks like-”

Tim is cut off when the officers below make some kind of movement the monster clearly takes issue with, the snarl that almost physically ricochets off the brick walls making everyone wince.

It's like TV static and the crackle of lightning striking a tree, like glaciers cracking and shifting underwater all rolled into one.

The hair on the back of Bruce's neck stands on end.

“Fuck. It's like a living shadow, but all sharp and wrong and angry-”

“No,” Cass cuts in quietly, silencing everyone.

“...Black Bat?” Bruce questions lowly.

“Not angry,” she responds, as sure as ever when assessing a target - no matter what kind of target.

“Scared, hurt. Guarding chest, trying to hide it. Wants to scare us away, but making no move to attack. Posturing.”

The thing about Cass is that they trust her reads implicitly - her reads of people.

She wouldn't speak up if she wasn't certain, and she wouldn't be certain if she didn't see something painfully human in the creature below.

“...what do you suggest?” Bruce asks after a moment of tense silence, trying to reassess the creature and see what she sees.

He at the very least wants her opinion, so they can weigh it in formulating a plan here.

Cass keeps looking for a long moment, before she looks across the gap at him. “Needs help. Reach out - at least try.”

Masterpost

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Prompt #4

When they all convene at the cave, Alfred is silently wrapping Dick's knuckles. Damian hovers beside him. Tim and Barbara are hunched over the batcomputer, not even sparing Bruce a glance as he strides over.

"Report," Batman grunts. No one reacts.

"Report!"

"Hood pushed his panic button at 2:34 AM," Barbara says shortly, straightening.

The button had been a joke, mostly because Jason would never use it and everyone knew it.

"I patched into his comm at 2:35. This is what I heard initially." At her nod, Tim presses play. What occurs next is a garble. There is the sound of high winds, as if Hood is rushing through the air, even though the comms are designed to filter out any ambiance otherwise the Bats would never hear each other. Interspersed is a mixture of static punctuated by high, inhuman screeches of metal and something else unknown.

"This goes on," Barbara says after thirty long seconds, switching it off. "Red Hood failed to respond to any attempts at contact. I dispatched Nightwing to Hood's location at 2:36 AM. He was approximately two miles away." She pulls up a GPS map of their respective locations, their beacons blinking.

"At 2:41 AM, Red Hood's comm goes off, as does his GPS," Barbara says, swallowing softly as the red beacon indicating Jason disappears. "Nightwing arrives at 2:42 AM."

Dick doesn't say anything, head hanging low as he grips the metal table he sits on. Damian glances between the two of them, expression flat but fists clenched.

"Nightwing, report."

"..."

"Scene was empty, B," Tim speaks up. "No trace of Hood, no sign of a struggle. No cameras in the alley. We've been checking the ones nearby but so far there's no sign of anyone but Hood heading in that direction...and no one, Hood included, caught in the cams heading out, not within that time frame."

"So he's still in the area," Batman concludes. "The local buildings?"

"All the entrances have cameras, which showed no evidence of Hood nor any evidence of being tampered with," Barbara says. "Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin canvased within a half mile radius to check for any signs of disturbances in any of the windows or rooftops but found no evidence to support Hood being taken. A scan confirmed several serial offenders, but when interviewed and searched there was no sign of Hood. Several in the area reported an unusual quiet for Crime Alley."

Batman forces the next question out. "Did you check the dumpsters?"

"Yes," Nightwing grits out. "Empty."

Barbara clears her throat. "I have attempted to reconnect to Jason's GPS and comm as well as restart both remotely but there's no signal at all. The thing is, when there's a disruption like that it usually leaves some sort of sign" she pulls up the audio waves, pointing at the end where the spikes conform into a straight line that makes everyone deeply uncomfortable. Upon playing, the noise from before plays before going abruptly silent. "But there is no large spike, this is clean. It just ends. His GPS is much the same. It's not off, it's just gone."

"I know you don't like to hypothesize this early on, B, but we think this involves a meta," Tim says, rewinding the audio. "We've been running the audio from Jason's comm through different filters, playing with the levels and isolating what we can and, well, take a listen--"

The screeching drops to a sort of muffle and in the background, distantly, they can hear bits of Jason's voice.

"No, I'm not---"

"--don't need--"

"get AWAY from--"

a particularly desperate yell that makes Tim flinch, "I am NOT--!"

and almost a whimper that makes Batman's blood run cold, "please..."

And then, unfairly clear even through the faint garble, Jason says "I don't have a choice, do I."

And a minute later, quietly: "Ok."

The audio cuts off.

The defeat in Jason's last words is palpable, and fundamentally wrong. Jason has never sounded defeated a day in his life, and no one knows how to process Red Hood all but giving his hands over for the cuffs. Nightwing pushes himself off the table.

"I'm going back out there," he growls. No one tries to stop him as he stalks out the cave, not even Alfred.

"I will accompany Nightwing, make sure he does not punch any more walls." Damian says, nodding tightly.

"B?" Barbara asks.

"Keep working on it. See if you can identify what could be making those noises if Hood was standing still in an alley," Batman says, walking towards the zeta tube. "I'm going to make a few calls."