#tw stalker

[factual-fantasy]

AHA!! I broke through my art block/burn out long enough to draw some lore for my new Deltarune AU!! :DDD This has made me the very happy. 🙂‍↕️

Now for the lore ramble incase anyone is interested.......👁️👁️ (And for my own archiving needs XDD)

In my AU, TV Time used to be a very popular show in the 80s and 90s. But as time creeped into the 2000s, Tenna couldn't make the transition into the digital age. And his viewership started to dwindle over time because of it...

But then Spamton came into the picture. Spamton grew up watching TV Time and had a genuine passion for the show. He was aware of its dwindling viewership so he went to Tenna and proposed an offer! If he was hired onto Tenna's team, Spamton could create advertisements, merchandise, a system for fan mail and even pitch "new and fresh" ideas for Tenna to try out on his show! All the while keeping the original structure of the show. So TV Time was still. Well, TV Time! Tenna was apprehensive.. but desperate, so he agreed.

Well, Spamton's ideas were a smash hit! People found the show through advertisements, had a blast watching it with these new fresh spins on it, heaps of fan mail were being sent in and the merchandise kept selling out! And thankfully, Tenna had a lot of fun with these new ideas as well! :D

At some point, Spamton came on the show as a guest to talk about the changes that were made to TV Time. By now, Spamton and Tenna had become good friends. So while on the show they had great chemistry and laughed way too hard at each other's stupid jokes. 😂 The viewers LOVED their dynamic, and sent in thousands of letters and emails asking for Spamton to return. And so he did.

Show after show Spamton would return. And each episode was funnier than the last. Eventually Tenna just wrote up a contract and signed Spamton on as an official co-host of TV Time. This was a real dream come true for Spamton .. 😊✨✨

All was well, until Spamton was in his office late one night, and he got a strange phone call..

The caller talked about some "deal". About how he could make Spamton a [BIG SHOT]. But Spamton just laughed it off and declined, hanging up the phone and returning to his work.

Over the next few days, unnerving things started happening to Spamton.. he always felt like he was being watched. He could swear he hears another set of footsteps when he walks alone in hallways.. Things from his 3rd story apartment feel moved around or just.. different..

Things took a very dark turn when Spamton awoke to a tapping sound at his bedroom window. He looked over and saw a large figure staring into his room. Said figure then punched through the window, shattering it. Spamton was attacked by the intruder, his neighbors heard his screams and called the police. Spamton just managed to get through his living room as his neighbors burst into his apartment looking to help.

But the intruder slunk further into the apartment and fled out the window he came in from. The cops came, the scene was processed.. Spamton was relatively unharmed..

Spamton ended up just packing up a lot of his things and fleeing to a hotel room. He would return when the damage to his apartment was repaired.

Spamton called Tenna that night and told him what happened. Telling him he might be late for work tomorrow as he tries to set up his essentials in his hotel room. Tenna told him to take as many days off as he needed.

3 days later Spamton was back on the show as if nothing had happened. He tried his best to play it cool and not let the stress get to him. But as the days went on, he continued to notice more and more creepy things..

Spamton kept seeing things out of the corner of his eye.. he swore he would see several figures standing in the bushes outside of his hotel.. he heard tapping inside the walls, and a strange coppery smell would appear in random rooms he entered..

It all came to a head when Spamton had gone out to his car one morning to go to work. As he walked he could hear someone approaching behind him.. He kept turning to look but saw no one. He walked faster and faster, eventually running to his car. As he fumbled with his keys he saw someone large standing behind him in the windows reflection, they grabbed his shoulder so tight their nails dug into Spamton's skin-- he whipped around and shouted- dropping his bag and keys--

But no one was there..

He started to sweat, he collected his things with trembling hands, hurried into the car and sped off.

When he made it into the studio, he was late. Tenna was already on set waiting for Spamton to arrive. Spamton quickly cleaned himself up and rushed out onto set at the last second, just in time for them to go live.

Spamton did his best to do dramatic gestures to hide his shaking hands, and kept directing the focus to Tenna when he started to struggle to speak..

During their breaks and lunch breaks, Tenna looked for Spamton and tried to talk to him. But he could never find him..

By the end of the day, the show went.. fine, all things considered. Tenna was scheduled to stay on for an extra segment at the end without Spamton. Once Spamton's time was up he bid goodnight to the viewers and fled further into the studio.

Meanwhile, Tenna was worried sick about Spamton. He could tell something was really wrong with him today.. As soon as cameras were off, Tenna was out of his seat and looking for his co-host..

He made it to their shared office and hesitated to barge in, even though it was his office too. He knocked, "Spamton? Are you in there?"

Some shuffling, then Spamton opened the door. 

He looked awful, he dryly laughed and reminded Tenna that it was HIS office too. he didn't have to knock! XD Tenna came inside and gently asked Spamton if he was ok..

He waved Tenna off. He was ok! Nothing was wrong! He was just stressed after the break-in a few weeks ago, that's all. Nothing was ACTUALLY going on, he was just being paranoid! The hotel was a safe place to stay, everything was fine..

Tenna became much more worried. He guided Spamton to sit down, He spotted Spamton's blazer on the ground near the door. Without a word Tenna picked it up, folded it nice and draped it on the chair Spamton was sitting on. He then took a water bottle from the mini fridge and offered it to him.

He told Spamton that he believes them to be friends.. right? Forget the show, forget professionalism. Spamton can be honest with him if something's happened or is going on. Tenna just want's to help, he can tell him anything, he wont judge- He swears..

Spamton took the water and kept insisting that this was fine, he was fine!.. But his hands were trembling too much to unscrew the cap.. Tenna knelt down in front of him, although he was still too tall to meet Spamton's eyes.

Tenna offered his hand and gently asked him something, but at this point Spamton couldn't hear him. He dropped the bottle. Tenna went to pick it up, but Spamton started crying.

He broke down. He admitted he was freaking out. Hard. He explained that he was starting to believe he might have a stalker, even though his "evidence" seemed to just be his mind playing tricks on him. 

Tenna placed a hand on Spamton's shoulder, but he hardly noticed. The words just kept spilling out..

He admitted he was scared. He was so scared that someone might be following him around- maybe it's the same guy that broke into his apartment- maybe it's multiple people! Either way Spamton felt too scared to go back to that hotel- he just couldn't. He couldn't go back because of these stupid fears that he couldn't really prove. He was so embarrassed but he didn't know where to go- o-or what to do- and--

Tenna stopped his spiraling thoughts and reminded him to take deep breaths. Spamton tried but it didn't do much.. Tenna picked up the bottle, unscrewed it and guided Spamton's hand to it. Telling him he needs to drink.. Spamton just held the bottle. Too focused on running his fingers through his hair to sip from it..

He felt so unsafe, Spamton continued. He felt like someone was right behind him anywhere he went. He couldn't eat he couldn't sleep- and he thinks spending one more night in that hotel alone would push him over the edge..

Tenna frantically thought of anything he could do to help,, when he got an idea, he suggested that Spamton could just come stay at his house for the night. He lived in a gated community, so it would be a lot safer than his apartment or maybe even the hotel.

Spamton seemed to calm down slightly and listened to Tenna's words..

He told Spamton he didn't even have to drive there, he could leave his car in the studio's enclosed garage, and then ride with Tenna in a company SUV to his house! That way his car is safe and no one will recognize the vehicle that he's in. 

Spamton looked up..

He also wouldn't even have to stop at the hotel to grab overnight essentials. Tenna could just stop by a store on the other side of town and pick something's up for him. Then they could go to Tenna's place and just unwind.. 

Furthermore, Tenna doesn't need to sleep. So he'll even be awake all night to act as a night watchman of sorts for Spamton. I-If that was any comfort that is..

Spamton.. couldn't believe it. When Tenna made it clear that this offer was very serious, he just melted. Finally he seemed to break out of this mental spiral..

He would love that. He would love that so much..

Tenna stayed with Spamton until he could take deep breaths consistently, then he left to quickly collect their things. Including Spamtons uneaten lunch.. 

Spamton spent the whole car ride coming down from that all that anxiety.. They followed Tenna's plan and arrived in his driveway with everything Spamton would need to stay the night. 

Tenna's house was comically old fashioned inside, but it was almost comforting in a way. Nostalgic, wholesome.. Tenna made dinner for both of them and they just watched TV and talked and talked.. Spamton went into better detail about all the weird things he'd experienced, and came clean about some destructive behaviors it caused, like skipping lunch, pulling all nighters...

Eventually, Spamton hit a wall and just crashed. He fell asleep on the couch, mid movie. 

Tenna covered him up with a blanket, and then went about cleaning up the mess they had made. He stayed up all night just as he said he could, watching over Spamton and keeping a close eye on the scenery outside..

From here, their dynamic changed a lot. Their friendship certainly became much stronger. Spamton became really attached to Tenna, and Tenna became very protective of Spamton. 

A lot of the AU I might draw follows this set up. With Spamton being a sad/paranoid wet napkin and Tenna taking care of him XDD Like I haven't done THAT dynamic before!🤪

But yes, this was a VERY LONG ramble/fic(???). So I thank you for reading if you got this far!! :)) I hope to post more of these goobers soon, if my burn out allows it <XD

Take care! :DD

[ghostwhippet]

Size 14

18+

Nutrition Info: Ghost/fem!Reader; Ghost develops an attraction to a massage therapist he's forced to see, hates it, and hates you for it.

CW: Headlock during imagined sex; Ghost Is Angry (and swears a lot); stalking sort of? (He looks Reader up)

The idea of a massage makes Ghost’s fucking skin crawl. It's not complicated why. 

But the idea ends up having nothing on you.

Garrick wouldn’t fucking shut up about you. Then Johnny and König wouldn’t. They even roped Price in. And then Ghost had a fucking shoulder injury that wouldn't heal right, and the fucking Physical Therapist had put in his official fucking recommendation.

You agreed to Ghost’s conditions over the phone – “Clothes on, door open, and I’ll have my head covered. Not negotiable.” – and you were used to working with military, so maybe that was something.

If it wasn't... he’s done hard things before. Gotten around rules and procedures plenty of times before, too.

But then the day came, he showed up, and you took one look at him and what you didn't do was try to tell him to get on your table. Or the shiatsu chair that would put you at his back all the same. 

You had Ghost sit in a regular chair. Then you crouched down just off to his side and you got to work on his gloved hands. Gave some bullshit excuse for starting there when it was his shoulder that was messed up.

And you…. Fuck you. 

You weren't scared of him. 

It was like you met big fucks dressed as death with the light gone from their eyes every day. He could tell you weren’t afraid, even though you never looked up. You glanced at his forearm and thigh a few times, even his foot twice, and that was all you needed to know how to adjust.

Apparently, even when he was fucking covered head to toe in thick clothing, you found him easy to read. Like an open fucking book.

So yeah: Fuck. You.

You asked him about the pressure twice, but otherwise, you were silent as you worked up his arms and moved to stand at his side to start on his back. You never leaned over him, never tried to get behind him. Your eyes almost never left the area around your hands, but you could tell not just where he had knots, but what hurt, and what felt better than he'd ever admit.

You got him to lean forward so you could get below his shoulder blades and didn’t say anything about the fact that he was tight as a rappel line the whole time.

The third session he had with you, he ended up in the goddamned shiatsu chair. His eyes closed that hour, just for a second. Barely let himself blink after that.

The fourth time, he closed the door on his way in – always showed up right after you went in looking for him – and the sixth time… he layed down on the fucking table.

Somewhere that day, you find some knot, feel your way into some muscle, and he just… liquefies. He feels relaxed, didn’t know he could feel that way anymore. 

Something starts moving through him, like an echo in reverse, crashing and screaming and scraping louder and louder the closer it gets, and when he realizes it, he couldn’t say how much later, he’s up and damn near bolting from the room without a word or a look back.

He shows up at the next appointment and hands you the completion form – despite the fact that his round of prescribed sessions isn’t done – and tells you to sign and post-date it. 

All you do is look up from the paper to his covered face, your eyes moving back and forth between his, glance at his fucking tit like you can see through to his back injury, then sign off without a word. Little tension in your neck, but otherwise nothing. No pity, no annoyance, no judgement, no fear, not of him, or apparently any professional consequences.

Just as he’s passing through the door, you tell him that if he wants to come back, you’ll open up a spot for him. And you fuckin’ say it calm, like it's the same to you either way - or like you know he’ll be back. See you on Tuesday, Ghost.

He looks into you after that. You’re a good person, as good as anyone comes. Don't even have any bloody parking tickets. You visit extended family in the north every year around the holidays, own an adopted dog, give to charity. You volunteer with vets, do the same thing you do at work for free. (When do your hands get a break?)

You become a sick sort of obsession. You crawl under his skin – that feeling of melting crawls under his skin – and his hate of you solidifies, turns into something slower and colder. He doesn’t care that it shouldn’t be isn’t right.

He’s back in your room two months later, and sees you at least once a month when he’s not deployed. Usually more.

You don’t say anything the days he leaves your room hard, either.

Ever the fucking professional.

And then… one of the lads has to go and make a fucking comment. Doesn’t matter that they’re all two months into a dark operation and completely isolated the whole time, doesn’t fucking matter. Because you’re as good as you are, because you read a body that isn’t isn’t even moving, without words, without breath, without a face to look at. Because you seem to know just what it needs, what it wants, what it’s feeling every second you're working it, like you’re inside it. Like you knew when Simon had finally come apart on your table. He’d been able to feel it in your hands.

“Yeah, but that's what I'm saying, innit? Just hypothetically, ok, imagine what else she’d be good at. Imagine her with your cock. Right? Hands, mouth. C—”

Stops fucking talking quick when Ghost’s size 14 boot hits the wall an inch from his face.

Because the problem is, Ghost already has been imagining it. He’s been imagining it since you sat him down and made yourself small in front of him and your eyes jumped up to his as you went, just a quick glance, steady and clinical. Perceptive. He’s thought about it obsessively. Has your eye color etched into his brain.

He also thinks about what you’d make of someone who could read you right back. How would you handle that? How much would it take before you went liquid, too? 

Would you give in right away, or would you fight it, make him work taking you apart?

Would he want to do it again once he had, or would once be enough? Too much? Would he have you close the door to your room and fuck you against it slow, see how quiet you could be? How much control do you have over yourself? How much does it take to break it, and what do you look like when your seams are ripped open? When you can’t think?

He has the thoughts, pictures every detail of taking you apart and ruining you. Pulling you right up to the edge until you can see him at the bottom. Until you think you want to dive in. That’s when he snaps out of it and the thoughts make him sick. Most of what he wants to do to you makes him sick. But he keeps having them. Keeps deciding to stay away from you and your fucking hands and your fucking room and your fucking table, stays away for weeks or months. Keeps going back eventually.

Garrick starts tossing around the idea of asking you out. Getting you to ask him out, because you'll want it so much you'll find a way to reach over professional lines.

You won't, though. You're not the type. You rely on the lines. You understand them, and he wants to yank you across until you can’t put them back together or even find where they were supposed to go again. But is that because they keep something out, or keep something from getting out?

No, Garrick isn't what you need. Not even what you want. 

Who could blame Ghost if he sighs, laying on the couch at his place one night, because he's gotten hard again? Or if… if just this once, he decides to touch his cock while thinking about you, just a little, just to test. Just through his trousers. If he ends up taking it out and lightly, carefully rubbing his thumb over its head, expecting this whole thing to crash down around him at any second…. 

If he thinks about having you under him, pinned by his weight, his hand fisted in your hair, keeping your head back so far your neck is bowed while you're fucking sobbing. Or one arm wrapped under your hips with you face down to keep you angled, to keep you from moving even a millimeter, other arm wrapped around your neck, fingers digging into your back while he slams his hips into you over and over and over and over….

…If, for the first time in a long, long time, Ghost manages to cum, and it's so fucking intense it makes his back arch off the couch….

……

…Fuck. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck.  

He has to stop seeing you. Has to.

……

He knows goddamn well that he won't.

He sighs again, bookending the shitshow, one arm thrown over his eyes. Definitely not thinking about where else that arm just was in his mind, definitely not already starting to picture it again.

He scrubs a hand down his face, stopping when his fingers grip his jaw. He digs them in until it hurts, holds them there like that.

Ghost looks over at the back of the couch, now a mess of cum.

He lays there, no sound but the quiet fridge motor kicking on, his breathing already gone back to silent, knowing he needs to get up. Knowing he's got a fucking mess he needs to clean up now, and knowing... knowing it's not going to keep holding.

Masterlist

[hana-no-seiiki]

TETHERED HEARTS

tw: yandere.

You weren’t supposed to meet him—not like this.

He was a ghost in the fashion world. A legend whispered about in ateliers and behind closed velvet curtains. No one knew his real name, only the signature he left on every creation: flawless, divine, unforgettable. The kind of work only a soulmate could inspire.

And then he saw you. Not at a gala. Not on a runway. Just… in the street.

“Perfect,” he whispered. Not to you. To himself. As if your existence confirmed something he’d been designing in his mind for years.

You were supposed to interview him for a one-time exclusive. That’s all.

But now you find yourself wrapped in silk and secrets, your measurements memorized, your life tailored to his liking.

He knows your favorite colors before you speak.

He sews your name into collars you never asked for.

And behind his smile is a need that cuts deeper than any needle.

“You’re my muse,” he says.

“My masterpiece.

“The thread I’ve been waiting to pull.”

But what happens when the design is done?

When the final stitch is placed, and you’re not allowed to leave the frame?

After all — he doesn’t create things he’s willing to lose.

so I’ve been working on a yandere game with @sophiethewitch1 and @deer-fic-fics called TETHERED HEARTS! please look forward to it! will be posting more information on it when i finish art for it!

THIS IS NOT CANON TO THE GAME ONLY PROMOTIONAL MATERIAL.

reblogging helps a lot! thanks for reading!

[luffyvace]

I need.....I NEED MORE SAIKI K X READER SHEWAS SCSKSB

I have been feed well by your small serie of saiki kusos x write reader 🤤

But may I request as saiki kusos w f!s/o who suddenly have makoto as a stalker?

(sorry if you don't understand this my first time requesting 😭😭)

AHHH IM GLAD YOU ENJOYED THE SERIES!!

that’s actually a great idea!! I’m super pumped to do this request! :)

Don’t worry I know just what ya mean!

⚠️stalking warning,⚠️ before I start, if I may 😵‍💫

💛

Saiki will know right away when he starts stalking you-

And ngl this is the perfect chance to get rid of him 😈🙏

just kidding! But seriously, he let go of all the times makoto’s annoyed him in the past, but now that’s he’s an issue with you? His girlfriend? The one girl he can actually tolerate, scratch that, loves??

yeah no buddy this one’s not gonna slide

unfortunately he cant punch him bc 1) Saiki’s too strong and 2) that’d draw a lot of attention to himself since Makoto is a celebrity

but what he can do?? Well, Plan A) pinch his cheeks till they hurt and threaten him, Upgraded Plan A) disguise himself then pinch his cheeks, Plan B) keep scaring the crap out of him every time he tries to follow you, Plan C) calmly talk it out with him that you two are an item, Plan D) tell Teruhashi and use her love for Saiki to his advantage, getting her to tell her parents and stop her brother, Plan E) Publicly expose that freak or Plan F) tell you you have a stalker if you haven’t noticed, and if you have, go to the police

wow! what well thought out plans! :) most of them won’t work

heres why!

upgraded plan A is better than just plan A but it will ultimately still draw attention

plan c is unlikely to work seeing as though how creepy that guy is, plus he doesn’t like Saiki

As of plan d Teruhashi can hardly stop him from being a creep to HER (😭⁉️) and i don’t know how well the parents will care, especially if he’s making them money..😟

plan e….seems like it would be successful..buuut i feel he would just use his celebrity status to will the evidence away, like speaking out about how he would “never” do that and doing charity 🙄 plus the fan girls probably won’t believe some rando who uploads that on the internet over they’re fav 😒

ngl plan F is really reasonable and has one of the highest chance of working, but yet again, the celebrity card will strike and he could pay off the police so they don’t do crap abt it 🤦‍♀️😑

therefore! Plan B it is! Seems the most likely to work + Saiki can get his revenge in a practically harmless way! :3

Thanks to his powers (for once 😭) no one is likely to believe even the Makoto when he says a flying guy dropped a pile of dog crap on him 😏🤷‍♀️

and even if they did when he tries to explain the full story he’ll have to keep lying to keep the lie of him not stalking you alive 👎

but he still will tell you if your unaware tho!

he’s likely gonna be hesitant if he knows you’ll freak about abt it but you deserve to know. And ofc he can always keep you safe (thanks magic powers, for being useful for once!) but he also would want your parents to know so if Makoto tries something they can have a lead.

so yes ultimately he tells you, likely at his house, in his room, and he tries to break it to you as gently as possible but…there’s no easy way to take that kind of info 😬😟

if you get scared or cry he’ll tell you his plan to make him leave you alone, and he tells you to tell your parents too. Essentially trying to console you

if you choose to trust him and react a bit calmer, maybe still worried, he’d ask if you still wanna go out in public knowing this, and if yes he’ll accompany whenever and wherever he can, especially since Makoto won’t wanna come up to you while he’s there, thinking Saiki’s your boyfriend

he is

Also If Makoto does anything perverted as far as taking sus pictures of you or imagining weird things with those photos he’ll rip them up and make the paper and random things fly around in his room, every time

He probably breaks his phones/cameras too, even if he buys knew ones, as punishment

onto the final battle!

let’s say your walking home from school and Makoto is following you, your boyfriend is close behind you both, monitoring the situation for a good chance to strike. First, you cross the railroad to get home, but Makoto has to fall back so you don’t see him, but when it’s his turn to go? Oh no! The trains coming! Where’d that even come from? there was no train?! CRAP!- huh? Wait..the trains gone..thank goodness?! 😭

oh wait! He needs to catch up to you! Well at least he knows where you live and what route you take through research! He needs to catch up! HOLY CRAP! What’s a mob doing here?! Did a fan see him?? How’d they find him..no way, don’t tell me they’re gonna find out what he’s doing..NO DONT COME ANY CLOSer…? They’re running past him? Well I guess he is in disguise..wait, they were running to this arch nemesis and top competition?! 😠 seriously?! That guy over him??

he proceeds to head over there to show the ladies who they should really be drooling over 😏 WAIT- HE CANT REVEAL HIMSELF RIGHT NOW?!- what?…where’d his wig go? THE WIND BLEW IT OFF?! HOLY- HE’S ABOUT TO GET FOUND OUT🫨 RUN 😭 🏃

aw man he’s outta breath, what are the odds the wind would blow his wig off near a mob of fans?! Now he’s gotta be extra careful following you! And it’s already late! Actually..it’s pretty darn dark….dang it! You’re probably in your house by now! Oh well…maybe you still have your window open and he can get some pictures that way! 👍

uh..is he starting to hear a second pair of footsteps..? But..no one’s around..why’s it getting louder..?! UH, it’s getting more aggressive now 😥….okay that’s it! he’s running..!

dang it! It’s chasing him! No way he can lead this creep to your house! (Ironic huh) he’s gotta take a wrong turn!

man! What time is it?! Midnight?! Has he really been running that long??? Why’s this freak still chasing him? And who is it?!?

alright! He’ll take a turn into that alley and lose ‘em! Then he’ll make a ‘U’ back to your house! Although there’s no way to be sure if your still up or not :/

hey! The footsteps are gone! Maybe think he lost him! Alright! He’ll take another turn and go back to your place!

🏃🏃

right as he turns the corner?

Saiki:👹

Jump scare!

he immediately calls his manager while running away, thinking he’s either a mass muderer, a demon or a stalker! 😱

and the best part is? Nobody will believe him 😊

ngl Saiki probably won’t let this slide even a couple days after he finds out Makoto’s stalking you, he’s quick to act and stop him bc no.

Super Saiki to your rescue! 🦸🤩😎

Ngl you’re beautiful so I see what Makoto sees in you but…..dude. Don’t stalk your crush.

🌸💐🌺

hope you enjoyed your hcs! -Brook

[starwrighter]

1/?? Halloween prompt

I’ve got brain rot for creepy Deadserious content but only when it’s only seen as creepy by outsiders. (I know I’m writing a fic with a similar plot but it’s different I swear! Also my grammar is shit because I’m getting dental work done tomorrow and I’m nervous) Tw for stalker behavior

So Damian has a crush on Danny and immediately goes about acting on these feelings much to onlookers horror. Danny is swooning because someone made the effort to do a background check on him. Danny thinks Damian doing this is really smart because, he could be a serial killer for ancients sake why would you risk that? Others say this is a horrible invasion of privacy.

Damian not realizing he's being creepy (being liminal and being an ex assassin, turned vigilante wasn't doing him any favors) Plus Danny also not realizing it's creepy unless you relay Damian behavior towards him with different names.

Damian's just being a textbook stalker, breaking into his house and shit and Danny's all like "awwww he likes me" because this is just normal ghostly courting rituals! His dormroom isn't his lair so Damian breaking in doesn't feel like he's violating any sort of boundary. To him it's like a friend showing up at the coffee shop you work at to say hi.

Danny's had stalkers before, he's very cautious of his behavior to insure he never stalked anyone. Being stalked back in Amity was a horrific experience for him. From cameras in the locker rooms at school (wes) to cameras in his bathroom and bedroom at home (Vlad)! He couldn't feel safe anywhere! To Danny Damian's not a stalker, he's his protector. Nobody seems to understand when he tries to explain this though they just look at him like he's lost his mind.

Damian’s not subtle at all and Danny’s kicking his feet like a lovesick school girl who found out her crush likes her back. Overall it’s super cute from their points of view Damian’s planning an official confession to ask him on a date while Danny’s trying to figure out if Damian actually likes him or is just being nice. They’re just doing normal couple things but people just jump and attack Damian’s character while painting Danny as some kind of brainwashed victim.

The thing is… Danny’s become very good at appearing normal while Damian refuses to pretend to be a bumbling idiot like the rest of his family. He also refuses to dull down his personality for anything other than secret identity reasons. For these reasons since their relationship had become public, Damian had been painted by the media as a creepy possessive boyfriend who threatened Danny into a relationship. This infuriates Danny, the only one doing any kind of possession is him god damn it!

They want to be around each other all the time and that’s normal behavior for ghost/liminal couples! They live much longer than regular humans do they’re like elves, their perceptions of time are messed up. They still spend time apart they still have hobbies and an independent life, people just get hung up on the amount of time they do spend together. It’s normal behavior for them to know mountains of information about each others interests to the point they almost know more than each other. It’s normal to know each other’s schedules and background check the people they associate with. (The realms are very dangerous with shapeshifters and manipulators like spectra and Desiree who can ruin your afterlife in a matter of minutes) Their relationship is creepy to those who haven’t gone to extremes to survive.

Damian has taken to ignoring the reputation press has given him. He’s dealt with paparazzi and tabloids before it’s just frustrating to deal with. It’s when people start accusing him of hurting his beloved that really pisses him off.

(Bonus if Danny’s the one frothing at the mouth to maul a reporter while they try to paint him as a poor innocent victim)

I’mma end the prompt with this so everyone understands why Damian specifically being targeted by press. The more liminal you are the more creepy/uncanny you appear to other people and the more effort you have to put in to hide it. It’s why the bats are more believed to be Eldritch creatures than actual humans in suits. Surprisingly becoming a Halfa completely changes this effect to do the complete opposite. It’s easier for the human brain to look at a halfa and think “Innocent or normal,” Vlad and Danny were morons when it came to actually hiding their identity’s it was only their statuses as halfa’s that prevented people from comprehending them being anything other than normal.

In short Damian’s too dead to be perceived as normal while Danny’s too alive to be perceived as anything other than normal.

[baby-greatness]

18+ , mdni

More Stalker!Simon Riley imagine because I'm still editing "Honey Pie"

content : stalking , break-in , over-casualization of dastardly deeds , he's being a criminal - this is illegal

I love the idea of Simon stalking you with zero intentions. Just right place, wrong time on your part.

I love the idea of this innate security he has in himself and his actions, you know? He was trained for this. For stealth and precision.

Men were molded into silent weapons and most still couldn't pin him. You were just some random civilian he'd found himself following on a Tuesday. It wouldn't be obvious to you because, well, he didn't have a real reason to be doing any of this. Not to you specifically.

There was no vendetta, no violence, he didn't wanna rob or hurt you or grab your attention. He just kinda liked you when he saw you on the train. Thought you looked nice. Wanted to know what you were up to but didn't really want to ask.

He just needed a bit of enrichment, that's all. A pretty wee thing like you to keep him from losing the plot. There was so little to look forward to in the day. So little in the world that was soft and bright after all that he'd been through. All that he'd witnessed.

It spiraled a bit out of control after the first day. It was supposed to just be the one instance. Big man, too curious and bored and nosey for his own good. But then he saw you on the same route a few days later and he had time to kill. And then he kept seeing you everywhere and he kinda just . . . tripped into it. Like a bear trap.

Better him than anyone else, though. It's not like he had any plans. He wasn't going to do anything to you. Just liked to follow you sometimes, learn about you, catalogue. The repetition—the routine, it was good for him.

It felt like a reward whenever you'd deviate and he'd get to learn something new about you to add to the arsenal. Like your favorite brand of leave-in, or what produce you preferred. There was something Pavlovian about it. Gave him that little dopamine rush he'd gotten used to not really feeling anymore.

And sure, maybe a few months after he learned where you lived and memorized your patterns enough to predict your routes, he'd pay your place a little visit. Initially, he'd refused himself the luxury.

Going in your home was going too far, right? He stuck to writing things down, organizing them in his ratty little notebook whenever he was feeling particularly heavy or lonely or empty. He didn't even read it most of the time, unless he was working on it. At first.

He kept his distance, he watched from afar, he didn't make it as personal as it could've been.

This was light. A casual outlet. A hobby, even!

Following you around a little, making tally charts of the snacks you frequently bought to decipher which were your favorite, that was baby stuff. He had no real goal, no desire to further anything . . . entering your home didn't feel very hobby like.

But he doesn't resist the pull for very long. What was that saying? About the cat and its curiosity?

Simon liked to be inside of a space that didn't feel so cold and empty. It was a bit much for his taste, the way you decorated, but it was nice to be in a building that felt lived in instead of just occupied. His flat was kind of . . . nothing-y, yeah? And your place was so warm and full of things to fiddle with and touch, and it had a nice scent and he liked looking through your photo albums to guess who was related to you.

Obsessed wasn't the word he'd use. Fascinated was more like it. Fixated. Curious.

He loved spending time in your house, mostly in bed, just. . . resting. He could actually get rest there and it would recharge him. Not like how he tossed and turned in his flat, sleep slipping through his fingers. It made him feel closer to you in some way. Made him feel seen.

Oh, and he was seen. Because Simon was too comfortable from the jump. It had been so long that he didn't question everything like he used to. Like he should have. Of course, he was vigilant, and ever so careful—considerate even. Took off his shoes so he didn't make tracks, used a very neutral body wash that didn't interrupt the aroma of your home, made sure no one saw him come or go.

But when you expect to see a normal person, and you see a normal person, it's easy to write off minute details in favor of the bigger picture.

So the cameras in your place, teddy cams that fit amongst the millions of other trinkets and toys you kept, went overlooked. There was a time where he glanced dead at one of them, you know? And you were so frightened that he'd find out and stop coming all together!

But if he knew, he didn't say anything. And he didn't stop coming back.

Your little boy-toy, so sneaky, going through your things and napping in your bed. He was so polite too, putting everything back the exact way he'd found it.

You loved how clever he thought he was. Loved seeing him figure out the new ways to access your home that you silently fed him—he clearly needed the enrichment.

Wasn't he so sweet? And so handsome whenever he'd lift that mask above his nose and tuck his cheek against your pillow for a nap!

He was like your very own pet, willingly climbing into his cage <3

a / n : hooray! being crazier than your stalker! <3 I wrote this in the middle of the night half asleep!

[seyvia]

Something goes terribly wrong while Polly is live streaming... but everything's okay!

@beachofhearts / Vote here / Intro 1 intro 2 / #Polly Panini

[prettiest-vampyrslut]

sigh, stalker boyfriend who cums deep in my pussy. rping me against a tree in the forest, on our first real date.

he'll apologize in sweet whispers, begging for my forgiveness cuz he just couldn't handle how cute he thought I looked.

but despite begging for me to not hate him, he'll keep going, but he'd make sure i feel good to, and promise that next time he'll let me do whatever I want just so I'll forgive him.

sigh, if only...