#killing stalking??? its just stalking stalking

[eris-norwega]

Human Alastor x reader, where they are in an established romantic relationship, and they are on a date taking a stroll through the woods. Alastor notices that they are being watched by someone who wants reader for themselves, and confronts them later on killing them.

Blood Will Make It Better

Notes: YIPPEE human al is my favorite. y’all idk why my one shots keep getting shorter but i thought i wrote a lot more than i did. apparently it’s hard to write extended gore scenes without it getting repetitive.

Synopsis: Reader has been dealing with a pest at work, and despite her partner, Alastor, telling him off, he just doesn’t get the message—so Alastor will just have to send a clearer, more permanent one.

CW: human alastor, reader has she/her pronouns, pov change, stalking, harassment, gore, murder, it’s the 1920s so reader works at a library

Word Count: 1268

It was always moments like these that I enjoyed the most. A joyful night in the warm woods with Alastor, laughing all our problems away as we watched the fireflies float through the trees. It was hot, and dreadfully humid, but I could easily ignore it when I saw his smile.

He was a strange man. Snarky, distant, and incredibly outspoken—all things that drew me to him. Where others saw him as arrogant and guarded, I saw a man willing to do anything it takes to accomplish his goals, all while protecting himself fiercely.

Despite it all, I wanted to get to know him better. I saw past his flaws and went right for the center. Apparently, he admired that.

Alastor happily led me through the forest on his expansive property, his glasses shining in the moonlight. He hummed a soft tune as we settled on the small dock in the bayou where we loved to sit and talk.

We sat, feet dangling dangerously off the side of the ledge and the hands bracing ourselves backwards just barely brushing. He leaned his head at almost a right angle to set his head on my shoulder. I chuckled, using my arm to pull him closer. He laughed softly, wrapping his arm around my waist and placing a light kiss to my cheek.

We sat in silence, looking at the fireflies dance, listening to the chirping of crickets and the croaking of bullfrogs. Alastor snuggled into my shoulder, a gesture never seen by the outside world. But here, we were safe.

Or so we thought.

A snap of a twig is heard, making us jolt and my heart begin to race. I clutched onto Alastor, my eyes darting around in the moonlit forest.

There was a rustle of a bush, and then the night resumed its symphony. Alastor stared daggers at the bush as I clung to his arm.

“Let’s go,” he growled, getting up from the dock, his eyes never leaving the bush.

“What is it?” my voice wavered.

“I’m not sure,” he hissed. “Let’s just be safe.”

~Alastor~

He did, in fact, know what it was. And it made his blood boil.

Lance. A sleazy frequenter at his beloved’s library job. She had mentioned on multiple occasions just how crass and disrespectful he was to her and her personal space—always trying to flirt. She had indicated multiple times to him that she was seeing someone, but that only seemed to spur him on further.

Getting angrier at his behavior, Alastor decided to pay a visit to her day job, as Lance was beginning to appear every day now.

Alastor made it known to the man that she was, in fact, taken. He almost got himself kicked out of the establishment when he warned Lance—in a particularly loud voice—that he would not hesitate to press charges and get a restraining order on him on behalf of his partner if he showed his face again. Lance had sulked away with a frown on his face, and Alastor hoped that might be the end of it.

Seems he was wrong.

That very night, Alastor spotted Lance’s ratty eyes peaking through the bush. He bristled with rage. How did that pig even find them? On his property?

Alastor now only had one goal in mind. Keep her safe, and kill him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor kept track of him for long, agonizing weeks. His fingers itched to slice his throat, to gut him like the pig he was. He memorized his every move, where he was at every hour, particularly at night when it would be easiest to catch him.

Alastor knew now that Lance would leave the bar he was at soon enough. He twiddled his knife, the cool metal glinting in the dim light of the alley he leaned against. His heart raced, pumping with traces of adrenaline that would soon flood his brain.

His ears pricked when he heard the door open and close, poorly placed footsteps nearing his hiding spot. Alastor dared to peak around the corner, and his smile grew. Finally.

Alastor waited patiently behind the alley, listening closely to Lance’s footfalls. The man was clearly drunk, his steps wobbly and unsteady as he stumbled closer and closer to his death.

Alastor watched with glee as Lance stepped over the threshold into his line of sight. The man didn’t even see Alastor until he was being dragged backwards into the dark alley, his eyes wide and scream muffled by a large hand.

To Alastor’s luck—and great delight—no one else had stepped out with the man, and it was so late that nobody wandered the streets. He dragged Lance completely into the shadows, bashing his head against the brick wall to leave him disoriented. Lance groaned, slumping against the wall as Alastor let him go.

He quickly locked a hand around his neck, a choked sound gurgling from the man’s throat as he stared at his killer with wide, scared eyes.

“Do you know,” Alastor drawled, tracing the sharp end of the knife over Lance’s cheek, “just how long I’ve been waiting to do this?”

Another strangled scream escaped Lance as Alastor once again slammed his head into the wall, leaving a bit of blood on the brick.

“You think,” Alastor hissed, “that you can just harass her—stalk her—without any repercussions?”

A startled noise made its way past Lance’s lips, eyes wide and pleading.

“Please,” he choked.

Alastor laughed lowly. “Sorry, old pal. Didn’t hear you there.”

With a wild look in his eyes, Alastor slashed his knife across Lance’s mouth, his jaw falling open in a grotesque maw as Alastor cut his mouth wider.

Another gurgled scream tried to tear itself from Lance’s throat, but Alastor ensured no one could hear him as blood flooded his mouth.

Alastor cackled. “Repeat that for me, good sir. If you can.”

Another slash was made over Lance’s eye, blood gushing from the wound and pooling into his gaping mouth. The man whimpered in pain, surrendering to his fate.

“You don’t deserve to look at her,” Alastor growled, plunging the blade into his other eye socket, the eye popping out with an unnatural squelch. The drunken man tried to claw and kick at his assailant, but his intoxicated body and rapid blood loss made his efforts futile.

In a fit of impulsivity, Alastor took the eyeball and shoved it down the man’s throat with a gleeful laugh. His adrenaline completely taking over, Alastor shoved the knife into Lance’s ear repeatedly, smiling all the wider as blood sprayed on Alastor’s face.

“You’ll never hear her again,” he cackled, slicing his nose off next. “Never smell her intoxicating scent.” He yanked out his tongue, cutting it clean off. “Never taste her lips.”

Alastor continued to stab him in various places, blood pooling in ridiculous amounts on the floor, all while he laughed.

He felt insane and so, so good.

Alastor yanked Lance’s hair, and, although barely conscious, made one last promise to the man.

“You will never get to feel her like I do.”

And then he sunk the blade into his throat.

~Reader~

“Alastor!” I called happily as he picked me up from the library. “You’ll never guess who wasn’t here today!”

He chuckled softly as I buckled my seatbelt. “I have some ideas.”

I giggled. “Lance! For the first time in weeks, he wasn’t here!” I wiggled in my seat happily. “I think your little talk yesterday scared him off!”

Alastor laughed softly, taking my hand and placing a delicate kiss on my knuckles. “How wonderful.”

[infernolust]

𝗖𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗠𝗲 𝗜𝗳 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗖𝗮𝗻

Ghostface! Sevika x Victim! Reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2,1K

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: The chase is on, and Sevika revels in the thrill of hunting you through the darkened streets of Zaun. But the real game begins when she corners you, pinning you in place and blurring the lines between predator and prey. Fear turns to fire as tension crackles between you, leaving you breathless and questioning just how much you want to get away.

𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: Ghostface AU, Slow Burn, Angst with a Dash of Comfort, The Thrill of the Chase, Tension and Desire, Predator/Prey Dynamics, Obsession, Dark Romance and Sexual Tension.

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟭. 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮.

The sound of your footsteps echoes through the empty streets, your breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts. The city feels alive tonight—too alive. It hums and thrums around you, its shadows stretching long and ominous under the flicker of distant streetlights.

Behind you, the sound of boots on wet pavement grows louder, closer. She’s toying with you.

You don’t need to turn around to know she’s there. You can feel her—her presence sharp and suffocating, like the blade she keeps hidden in the shadows. The chase is her game, and you’re the prize she’s decided to hunt tonight.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you dart around a corner, slipping into an alley bathed in the faint glow of a neon sign. You press your back against the cold, damp wall, trying to steady your breath, but it’s useless. She’s already here.

A flash of black in your peripheral vision—her Ghostface mask. It’s only there for a second, but it’s enough to send a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

— Running again? — Her voice drips with amusement, distorted and low through the voice modulator. It feels like it’s coming from everywhere at once.

Your hand instinctively reaches for the nearest object—a broken bottle discarded on the ground. It’s a feeble defense against someone like her, but you grip it anyway, your fingers trembling.

— Come on, sweetheart, — she taunts, her voice rough and teasing. — You know you can’t hide from me.

You bolt before she can round the corner, your legs carrying you down another narrow street, past shuttered windows and graffiti-smeared walls. The city blurs around you, every shadow a potential hiding place, every sound amplified tenfold.

You know this game well by now. The chase, the tension, the push and pull of it all—it’s become a twisted rhythm you can’t seem to escape. And maybe you don’t want to.

Your chest burns, your lungs screaming for air, but you can’t stop. Not when you know she’s right behind you. Not when you can hear the steady thud of her boots, deliberate and unrelenting.

The alley ahead is a dead end. You realize it too late, skidding to a halt as the brick wall looms in front of you. You whirl around, the bottle still clutched tightly in your hand, just as she steps into view.

Sevika.

She’s massive, her frame taking up the entirety of the alley’s entrance. The Ghostface mask stares back at you, impassive and eerie under the dim light. Her blade glints in her hand, the sharp edge catching the faintest hint of moonlight.

— Got you. — she says, her voice low and smug.

You square your shoulders, refusing to let her see your fear. — What are you waiting for? — you demand, your voice sharp despite the tremor in it. — Just kill me already.

She tilts her head, the movement slow and deliberate, as if she’s sizing you up. Beneath the mask, you can practically feel her smirk.

— Kill you? — she repeats, her tone mocking. — And end the fun? Where’s the challenge in that?

She moves closer, her steps slow and measured, like a predator stalking its prey. The bottle in your hand feels pathetic now, but you grip it tighter anyway.

— You’re a sadist. — you spit, backing up until your spine hits the cold brick wall.

Her laugh is low and dangerous, reverberating through the narrow alley. — Maybe, — she admits, stopping just inches away from you. — But you’re not as innocent as you pretend to be.

Her gloved hand comes up, pressing against your throat—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you freeze. The leather feels cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating off her.

— Look at you, — she murmurs, her voice almost soft now. — Defiant, even now. God, I love it when you fight back.

The blade in her other hand grazes your cheek, its edge featherlight but chilling. It’s not a threat; it’s a tease, a lover’s caress disguised as something darker.

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you forget why you were running in the first place. The air between you is charged, crackling with unspoken tension.

— Is this what you want? — you snarl, your voice trembling. — To scare me? To see me break?

She leans in closer, her mask inches from your face. — No, — she breathes, her voice raw and thick with something you can’t name. — I don’t want to break you. I want to watch you burn.

Her words send a shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you find yourself wondering who’s really in control here.

The hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make your pulse quicken. Her thumb brushes over your skin, a surprisingly gentle gesture that contrasts with the blade still grazing your cheek.

— You make running look so damn good, babe, — she murmurs, her voice low and husky. — But I think I like you like this even more.

Her mask tilts as if she’s studying you, and you can feel the heat of her gaze beneath it.

— I hate you. — you whisper, though the words lack conviction.

— Liar, — she counters, her tone smug. — You love this.

Your fingers twitch at your sides, torn between pushing her away and pulling her closer. The tension is suffocating, the line between fear and desire so blurred it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.

She moves closer still, her body pressing against yours, and you can feel the sheer strength of her frame pinning you against the wall. Her breath is warm against your neck, and you swear you can hear her smirk beneath the mask.

— I should kill you. — she says, her voice low and dangerous.

— But you won’t. — you reply, your voice steady now.

For a moment, neither of you moves. The world around you falls away, leaving only the two of you locked in this strange, intoxicating dance.

Finally, she pulls back, her gloved hand sliding from your throat. The blade lingers for a moment longer before she steps away entirely, creating a distance that feels both suffocating and liberating.

— Not yet, — she says, her tone light but laced with promise. — You’re too much fun to let go of just yet.

She turns, her heavy boots echoing as she disappears into the shadows, leaving you alone in the alley with your heart still racing.

And though you tell yourself it’s relief you feel, you know the truth. You’re already looking forward to the next time she decides to chase you.

ㅤㅤㅤ

[gorgeous777]

Fake, Barty Crouch Jr x Fem. Reader

You walk into Professor Moody's class only to find another man there. What happens next?

A/N: The following below is nsfw, teacher × student. The reader is set to be 17 and a seventh year, so legal within the Wizarding World.

Enjoy!

_______________________

You should have knocked. Came at a different time. Another day. Anything but just walk straight into his office. You were going to see Professor Moody to ask a question. A question in which you couldn't even recall now. When you had walked into Moody's office, he wasn't sitting there. Instead, there was a dirty looking man with somewhat greasy brown hair. He'd been sitting lazily on the sofa against the wall with wand in hand when you had barged in. Any words you had intended on saying died in your throat when your eyes landed on the man. His head perked up at the sound of the door opening, and for a moment your eyes locked. Instantly, you knew something was very wrong. That you shouldn't be there. Quickly as you could muster, you spun around on your heels and attempted to flee the office.

To no avail, since the door slammed shut in your face. It locked just as quickly as it closed. Ice cold fear trickled down your spine. The kind you'd get as a little kid when faced with your worst fear. A small strained groan came from the man behind you as he stood up. "It's a shame really," He spoke slowly "I was hoping to not have to kill any students just yet. Seems lady luck has yet again over-looked me." Calculated and heavy footsteps drew close to you. One by one. Like a predator stalking its prey. Until they stopped just behind you. You could practically feel how close he was. A breathy chuckle left the man. Very hesitantly and very slowly, you turned around to face him. Your head was down and your gaze glued to the floor. There was hardly any space between the two of you.

"Oh, a (house name)?" He cooed curiously after taking a glance at the crest embroidered into your robes. He placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to get a good look at your face. Your eyes lock again. A wicked grin formed across his features, and his tongue flicked out of the corner of his mouth. Like a snakes would. "Miss Y/L/N, what a surprise. I would have thought you have better manners than to just walk right into a room without knocking" He lifts his wand up and drags the tip of it along your jaw, his tongue flicking out a few more times as he did. "What to do with you now is the question.." As he spoke, he ran the tip of his wand down your neck. Your eyes follow his movements as best they could. It took you a moment to realize who this man was. But sure enough when you did, that fear you felt upped by at least ten.

He was Bartemius Crouch Jr. You'd read about him in some old news letters before. "I could torture you, or just kill you right out" Internal panic had set in, and you needed to find a way out of this situation and quick. "Neither" You manage to croak out. "Oh? And what do you suppose I do instead? Surely I can't just let you go" Your eyes dart around the room, desperately looking for some sort of escape. There was none. You needed a distraction or something. "Why.. Hurt me, when you can do much more.. Pleasurable, things to me?" You tried not to sound scared, but you couldn't help the tremble in your voice. His eyes widen with only what you could describe as sadistic intrigue.

"Oh naughty girl" His tongue flicked out once more as he took a step closer. Immediately, you took one back and only pressed yourself to the door. He slipped his wand into his pocket and used that same hand to cup the underside of your jaw; keeping you looking up at him. The touch of his warm and large calloused hands sent a spark throughout your body. "Perhaps I should" Admittedly, he was attractive. So up close and personal, you could see every one of his features. He was dirty, gross, but oddly hot. Very hot. "I think I like me a bad girl" As he spoke, his voice dropped to that of a sultry whisper. Meanwhile his thumb lightly stroked over your cheek. "I think the bad girl likes you" The moment those words left your mouth, his lips were on yours.

Your eyes go wide and a strangled noise leaves you. Though, that initial shock disappeared rather quickly as your eyes flutter shut and you return the heated kiss. His large hands move to your body, touching it eagerly. One goes to your breasts and kneads at it. While the other finds your waist and holds you close to him. He presses his hips to yours, grinding the tent in his trousers against you. He tore his lips away from yours and began to trail open mouth kisses down your neck. As he did, he wrapped his arms around your thighs and held you up against the door. "And does the naughty girl like this?" He murmurs as he grinds his hips against yours.

A low chuckle came from the back of his throat at the gasp you gave in response. "How cute, she does" His crotch presses firmly into yours, rocking at teasing pace. A small whimper leaves your lips before you could stop it. That friction felt fantastic against your wet core. Suddenly his arms are tight around you and moving you to a wall rather than the door. noise You instantly cling to him out of fear, egging on a sadistic chuckle from him. "Poor thing" He coos mockingly, one of his hands moving from your body to unfasten his trousers. He let out a low whine at the feeling of his hard length being freed from the tight restraints that were his bottoms.

The noise he let out went straight to your core, only adding to the blossoming feeling there. That same hand he used to free himself went to the apex of your thighs, stroking you slowly through your knickers. He smirks at how soaked your knickers are, then leaning his face into your neck. "So wet, practically running like a tap" His tone his teasing and sultry. He pulled the fabric aside, lining himself up to your entrance. "Last chance to back out, naughty girl." Though your body trembled and your eyes were blown, you managed to shake your head. "No, please, keep going" You croak out, sounding just as pathetic as you looked. He grinned then pressed himself to your entrance. His hips jerked, though he didn't enter you. He chuckled slightly in amusement. Teasing you was fun and thoroughly amusing.

The way you whined and made needy faces. It made him more excited. After teasing you for a few more short moments, he slowly started to push into your welcoming core. "Bollocks, that's good.." His voice came out a low murmur as his eyes fluttered shut. His hips steadily rocked, sliding in and out of you with slick ease. He let out low whines and breathy groans every so often. His length pushed deep and massaged your most sensitive flesh. Progressively, his movement picked up in pace and force. Holding for a while before doubling on itself before he was bucking up into you desperately. He'd since buried his face into your neck, breathing heavily into your skin. His noises got more frequent, mingling with his body twitching.

His voice was like honey in your ears. Oozing down through your body and filling your lower abdomen. Warming hotter and hotter until it finally reached its boiling point. Spilling over and dripping down his length. The clench your body gave around him as you found your release triggered his own. His hips bucked in a pathetic and desperate manner as he finally came with a breathy whine. Steadily slowing down thereafter, both of you breathed heavily. Uneven, gasping breaths. His body went slack against yours, pressing you firmly to the wall. He gave a strangled grunt at he pulled out. After, his head lolled back from your neck, a weak and tooth grin plastered on his face. His tongue again flicked out before he spoke.

"I think I'll make you my plaything now"

[porcelana-r0ta]

I literally never planned to do anything more with my one shot of Wes being a Wayne Enterprises intern but the thought of Tim Drake and Wes Weston being friends (if not boyfriends) scratches my brain so perfectly like they could really be out here being stalker buddies 💙

Like,,

Tim, looking at a surveillance pic of a masked villain who robbed WE: (trying to be unsuspicious) the Bats really need to figure out who this new villain is and take him down >:(

Wes, who saw the villain's civilian persona for 0.5 seconds while on a Batbucks run: oh yeah I know him his name is Darry and he likes mocha fraps with a chocolate wall but also his card declined so that was sad :/ wonder he's robbing Wayne Enterprises

Tim, under his breath: I love you and I'll always make sure you get home safely after your shift

Wes: what?

Tim: I said that as my intern I need you to get me a Death Wish coffee

[spitinsideme]

I need more comedy horror au pomni or I will die of thirst

ragatha and her great wall of pomni which sje admirws every day

(comedy horror au)

[freakinator]

devotionduo so codependent that when they try to be less so they end up hurting each other what if i kms

[moeblob]

son boy raccoon trash can man suffering in a dnd au as a cleric bc his warlock will not stop committing murders and he has to keep coming up with reasons murder is valid to convince the gm its fine and under control

[kieren-fucking-walker]

Hey folks,

My family life has fallen apart in many ways that are too complex to detail here, it basically means that my mum has finally left my abusive dad and the house (yay!) as has my youngest sister (double yay!) and while they are currently staying with my grandparents it's not a permanent solution.

Me and my sister have been helping as much as we can, but if you're able and would like to help keep them (and myself for the unpaid time I took off) afloat it would be very much appreciated.

My PayPal is here and my Ko-Fi is here, if you need or want more details drop me a message and I'll be happy to discuss it. I can't offer much in return but I can give cat pictures and/or instructions on how to make a tiny pumpkin for yourself if that's something that interests you.

I'm well supported so it's not as stressful as it otherwise could be, but it's just a lot of a situation and any help, kind words, or pet pictures are very happily recieved.

Thanks friends 💜

[evilmagician430]

i find it funny that practically every romantic exchange spencer has ever been a part of was deeply upsetting for those around to witness. i think it just happens once in canon but i like to think that sets a precedent for any romances involving spencer in fanworks.

[burnin0akleaves]

Someone's always watching from the shadows

[kittyplushy]

his ass should be at the club

[beepborpdoodledorp]

This is old news by this point, but I think the thing that irked me the most about James Somerton’s exposure isn’t just that he plagiarized basically as frequently as he breathes but that anytime he wasn’t copying other works word-for-word or adding onto phrases he stole, it…was just so he could be rampantly misogynistic.

Like, we tend to joke about how no demographic hates women more than straight men but I think the phenomenon of gay men being shamelessly misogynistic needs to be put under a microscope and studied.

[fox-mulder-gets-pegged]

Rewatched the episode of House MD where Kutner dies and I honestly think instead of killing his character off, they should have said that Kutner got a job as physician to then President Barack Obama and that's why he was leaving. Objectively funnier since his actor did leave the show to work for Obama and I know it would have driven House nuts that Kutner was ditching to go play doctor with the President instead of getting verbally abused for House's amusement.

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Yuri on Ice has done a lot for me.

Amazing fan comics, art, music, a relatable main character, inadvertently introduced me to the omegaverse and Killing/Stalking which traumatized me for years,

You know fun stuff.

[crazybiaatch]

okay so with James Somerton hate being okay and encouraged now, let me recount my discovery of him and equally as swift hatred of him.

The first video I found of his was his interview with the vampire video, bc I was watching it at the time and everyone knows yt spies. I clicked on it hoping for a breakdown of their relationships or something similar, I wasn't sure since I'd only watched the first 2 episodes at the time. I watched his video in full, and walked away mostly just bored. Somehow it didn't even spoil me so I just continued on my merry way thinking he was just another YouTuber I would watch once and never again.

Then I put on a video essay playlist to watch while writing and his Killing Stalking video came up. I love killing stalking it's so good! Let's give it my full attention! Sang-woah. He calls Sangwoo Sang Woah. I cringed. But I tried to power through. Now keep in mind, I had only seen these two, so I figured he was a horror video essayist kinda like Wendigoon, I knew he talked abt the queer elements in interview with the vamp bc it's kind of hard not to, but Somerton made a point to always remind me that killing stalking is queer. I didn't watch it all the way through, and I was tired at the time, but I'm pretty sure I clicked off when he started trying to say that Sangwoos murders was a metaphor for being in the closet. Anyone who interacted with killing stalking and who actually read it and could see it's themes would tell you that Sangwoo isn't gay. He's not queer at all, who knows if he even feels sexual attraction, but he wasn't in a relationship with Yoon Bum, he was keeping him hostage. What I watched of the video just told me that he hadn't really read it and had maybe watched a summary or something. Now I know that the parts that seemed like that were probably just the parts he added in to be able to make fun of women

[ansy-tea]

Y'all ever stopped listening to your favorite bands for about 2 years for reasons you don't even know yourself. Maybe it's because you're busy. Maybe it's because you thought you've acquired new tastes. You really don't know. But then suddenly you listened to one song of theirs again and now you're sobbing over how good the songwriting was? And now that you're not a dumb High Schooler without much experience you understand the lyrics even more?

Anyways that's me with Fall Out Boy right now lmao. It's high time I listen to their new album later.