#serial killers blog

[blythe-dollz]

baby I’m a sociopath

sweet serial killer

[sunnypopoki]

YANDERE X READER RECS ━━

ᴀ ���ᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟʟ ᴍʏ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ! ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪɴ ᴅᴇᴘᴛʜ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ, ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ɪ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛʀʏ ᴍʏ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ, ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ!

𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄 ( yandere! mafia husband x female! reader)

Y/N fell in love with him in high school, married him after graduation, and moved in with him whenever she decided to go to college. But something about him was odd. Disappearing at night, being gone for days on end, answering suspicious unknown phone calls, being overly clingy... He's not cheating, right? Or was something worse going on?

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD, TUMBLR, QUOTEV

𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍 ( dark reverse harem x villainess! reader )

Y/N wanted her arranged husband dead. Who could blame her? After she was forced to marry the Grand Duke, she knew that she'd live a miserable life, especially if it meant being tethered to him til the end of her days. So she started to make a plan. A sinister plan to kill him, his close friends, and topple his empire of fame to the ground. If she wasn't allowed to have rights, why should they? But it was easier said than done... because unbeknownst to her, three men would do anything to appease her.

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD

𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 ( yandere! emperor x female! reader )

Emperor Cadmus Dimitriou. Whether people knew him by his title as emperor of Kiaba, or his cutthroat win in the war three years ago, they all knew that a man like him was destined for greatness. But Y/N? She was destined for the constant spray of blood, the roaring of the crowd, and the thud of bodies dropping. It wasn't like Gladiators had a choice. However, that all changed when she was bought for a cheap price by a cruel man who wanted to test her fame. And Emperor Cadmus wouldn't take no for an answer.

• • • NOT YET RELEASED (WILL BE SOON)

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 ( yandere! vampire x male! reader )

The Devil stopped at the doorstep of Y/N's church with a charming smile. Business, he said, that was why he came by to visit. His touch left Y/N's skin in flames, his gaze made his stomach twist, and his voice made his head spin. This man, Linus Ambrose Wittherson, had to be Lucifer himself.

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD

𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 ( assassins! reverse harem x villainess! reader )

Everyone inside Fulminare Academy had secrets; the professors, the students, the scrappy dogs outside. Y/N was no different. However, she never thought those secrets would lead to her demise. Mysterious men were out for her head, or more specifically, the knowledge inside it. May curiosity kill these wicked cats.

• • • AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD & QUOTEV

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐓 ( yandere! serial killer x male! reader )

Y/N knew there was something wrong with him but he couldn't help it. He was 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥. Who wouldn't be hooked onto someone like Micah Ariti? A transfer student from Greece who was perfect in every way; his athleticism, his creativity, his 'no-bullshit' type of personality. Even if he knew then about who he really was, he was already addicted. He would never let him go.

• • • NOT YET RELEASED (WILL BE SOON)

[untoldstar]

yanderes who make you the exception.

Grumpy yandere who’s always glaring at other people and everyone too scared to even approach him. Who’s always rolling his eyes and grumbling when you accuse him of being a softy on the inside but his arguments don’t hold up when he gently pets your head when you doze off on his shoulder, or when you lean down to pick up something you dropped under the table and his palm covers the edge to protect your head from bumping into it.

Grumpy yandere who holds you as you cry over another guy, scolding you and saying “I told you so” he acts like this was expected and that you should have known better but his hand flexes and slightly trembles as he tries to contain his anger.

The next day you you see angry red marks covering his knuckles and a strange text from your ex where he apologizes profusely.

You haven’t changed your mind. He is a softie on the inside but he’s still terrifying….

Serial killer yandere who’s out spilling blood in the dead of night. He comes back home with the screams of his victims still ringing in his head, slowly cracking the bedroom door open to not wake you up, it’s actually a scary sight. A tall dark looming figure lingering around the doorframe. It would scare you if you weren’t used to this by now.

You sit up and reach over to turn on the small lamp on your bedside table. You take one look at him and narrow your eyes, shoving the blanket off your body and making your way over to him, you lightly smack him on his shoulder and his entire body slumps, looking like a kicked puppy “You got blood on your shirt again?! I told you to be careful! and what’s this? Oh my- what happened to your hand?!” you scold him and he pouts; moving closer to sneak his arms around your waist and burry his face in your neck “I’m sorry darling..” he murmurs “I’ll be more careful I promise. Please don’t be angry with me..” He plants soft kisses on your neck and you relent, sighing and rolling your eyes “Fine. Go take a shower. I’m gonna stay up for a while longer.”

This ruthless killer who can crush someone skull with his bare hands can’t bare to make you angry.

He might be the most terrifying thing someone could encounter on the streets but at home, all he wants is to have your attention, your touch, everything you have to offer.

Popular yandere who’s always so fucking perfect. Perfect smile, perfect words, perfect manners. He always had to act perfect but around you…he could just be him. You didn’t expect anything of him. When he’s around you he feels like he’s completely undone. All the restraints that kept him in check all this time completely gone.

He loves you. He loves you so much. He likes that he’s a nervous stuttering mess around you. That you call him cute when he’s too drunk to say a coherent sentence. That you look at him with those understanding eyes and gently caress his hand when he confides in you about his pressure, all that his family expects of him. What the public expects of him. If it were anyone else they would have told him “how good he has it” or that “he shouldn’t complain so much because some people have it worse”.

You listen. You treat him like he’s an actual human. He’s addicted to how he feels when he’s with you and if anyone gets in his way he might just burn it all to the ground. The cars, the mansions, the expensive clothes, all the connections he made. Just to stay in your embrace.

He doesn’t care if everyone leaves his side. They never meant anything to him. As long as you stay by his side he’s the happiest man ever.

Ex soldier yandere who’s seen so much pain in his life. Who’s experienced so much loss and so much hurt he can’t even feel anymore. He spends most of his time drinking and being a complete and total ass to anyone who approaches him. It annoys him that people can be all smiles and giggles when there’s nothing to smile about. That’s just how life is.

And you annoyed him most of all. You approached him one evening while he was drinking in that one dark corner of the bar and something about you made him tick. You had such a bright gleam in your eye and you looked so innocent approaching him out of everyone in that damn bar. As if you actually believed there’d be good in him.

He hated it.

He was meaner than usual that day. He’d usually throw a gruff “leave me alone.” and it’d get the job done but for some reason you pressed all his buttons when you barely even did anything. He figured it didn’t matter as long as it got the job done and it did. You left with your shoulders slumped a pout on your face and he was alone once again.

Except you returned the next day and the day after that and every other day. It unnerved him so much he decided to switch to another bar. So there he was drinking alone in another gloomy bar in a similar dark corner. Everything is exactly how it should be.

Except..it wasn’t. Something felt wrong. A nagging feeling in his chest, something he hasn’t felt before. He looked at the empty chair besides him and your absence gutted him. So he gulped down the last of his drink and made his way back to his old bar where he found you sitting in his usual spot with random man sitting too close besides you, not hiding his intentions at all. And you..you were sad. You were throwing polite smiles at the man but he could tell by your eyes that you were sad.

Did you really have that look on your face because he didn’t show up?

For some reason the thought of him being the one to bring you such sadness made his heart ache. Another thing he hasn’t felt in a long time.

So he pursed his lips and made his way to you, and from his peripherals he noticed how you straightened up and your face lit up as soon as you saw him but he kept his eyes on the man sitting besides you.

He roughly smacks a hand on his shoulder making him jump in his seat “She’s with me. Get your ass out of my chair.” The man narrowed his eyes ready to spit out a reply but ended up pursing his lips and getting up quietly after taking a look at his size. One thing that hasn’t changed about him after going to war is his build. Something that comes in handy in situations like this.

He plops down in his chair with a sigh and gestures to the bartender to get him his usual. You readjust in your seat and flash him a smile “you’re here!” He throws you a glance “Of course I’m here why wouldn’t I be.” you shrug and look down bashfully “I dunno I thought I freaked you out and made you switch to another bar.” He smile softly. You nearly did “No..no. I’m here.” And he’s not leaving you ever again. You nod and start your usual ramblings of your day. He guessed that was the official moment you became his ‘drinking buddy’ as you called your self.

He thought you were annoying at first. You just wouldn’t stop talking. Telling him about your day when he didn’t even ask. But slowly he started looking forward to hearing your voice. It became the only thing that got him through his bleak days. You became the one who got him through all of his darkness. Like a tiny crack of light that slowly get bigger and bigger until it’s all he could see. You wormed your way into his heart.

His short grunts turned into him comfortably talking to you and the soft smile he’d usually hide behind his glass glass turned into grins. He was smiling so damn much round you. Something he hasn’t done in years. And neither of you noticed the side long stares the bartended and some of the regulars exchanged as they witness this change in him. He’s gotten a reputation of being this grumpy man who’s always drunk and glares at anyone who even talks to him until you came along and suddenly he’s gone soft on you.

Only you of course.

His sunshine. His beautiful darling who’ll make it all better.

You made him alive again. You made him feel again. And he’ll be damned if you ever try to leave his side.

me when “I hate everyone except you”:

[thomas-the-goat-of-satan]

seventeen year old creature-boy Light Yagami, who is Totally Interested In Women And Definitely Not A Serial Killer, looks at porn magazines (porn magazines is generous; he's looking at scantily clad women, really) in the privacy of his own room and is so supremely weird about it that L, the man that has been Intently Observing Him Through Hidden Cameras, sees him doing it and goes, "oh. something is wrong." meanwhile, Light is internally monologuing himself into a frenzy. "ha!! take THAT. what're you gonna do now, L!? I look SO normal!!" but he doesn't. he never has. he never will. he's just used to everybody around him being too distracted by his artfully styled bangs and extensive collection of soft knitwear to notice his incredibly off-putting demeanor. he is So used to it, in fact, that he doesn't quite grasp that someone might find the image of him lounging around on his stomach and kicking his feet in the air while he stares at breasts to be. a little different. maybe even. disingenuous. oh no. shock and horror, shock and horror.

[eroticadoration]

yan!serial killer who becomes OBSESSED with who was going to be his next victim.

₊ ✩ ‧ ₊ ˚ ౨ৎ ˚ ₊ ✩ ‧ ₊

he never thought of himself as an obsessive person until he saw you for the first time. your soft hair, pretty eyes, rosy cheeks. you were an angel, he believed; it was his first thought, when his eyes landed on you in the convenience store, standing there behind the counter, a tired look on your face, no doubt from a long, boring night of work.

when he'd come in, he'd been planning on finding his next kill. it'd been too long since he had - he'd been keeping a low profile, lest that pesky detective come sniffing about where they're not supposed to.

but, he grew bored, he longed for a thrill. he needed a plaything to keep him occupied. so, stepping out of his safe zone, he stalked the dark streets, people-watching. none caught his eye, a strange occurrence. none of them seemed fun, thrilling. they'd be easy kills.

he's tired of easy kills.

he pretended to check out the aisles, but his eyes lingered elsewhere. he watched the few people who were lingering about the store, looking around for god-knows-what before heading to the front. his eyes followed; that's when he saw you.

he was immediately taken aback - he never saw someone as beautiful and handsome as you, as... angelic, divine. he had to pinch himself and take a second look, believing he was seeing things. but, no, you were real, as real as the stars above.

he stalked about the aisles a little longer, eyes glued to you as you interacted with the other customers. when the rest cleared out, he grabbed a six pack of beer and sauntered up to the counter. he didn't even drink beer, it was just the nearest thing to him, and how weird would it be, him going about the aisles having not grabbed anything?

he planted the six pack upon the counter, then spoke up, "can i have a pack of Marlboro Black's?"

his breath was nearly knocked from his lungs the second your eyes met his. your eyes... he could get lost in them, he thought. you gave him a nod and a soft, kind smile, turning around and grabbing him a pack of Marlboro Black's, setting them on the counter.

"can i see an I.D?" you asked; your voice could lure sailors. he fished out his wallet and pulled out his I.D, handing it to you. you scanned it over with a short nod before passing it back over to him, scanning his pack of cigarettes and beer.

"that'll be $13.92, sir." he pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and slid it across the counter. "keep the change, mx..." his eyes found your nametag, "y/n."

y/n... it's such a beautiful name, he thought, he could say it for hours and never tire of it. you gave another kind smile. "thank you. have a good night, mister..." you trailed off; he spoke, "fenix."

"fenix." you repeated, as if testing it on your tongue. his name on your lips made fireworks explode throughout his limbs. he wanted to hear you say it over and over again. you smiled up at him once more. "have a good night, fenix."

a genuine smile graced his lips. "you, too, y/n." he grabbed his beer and cigarettes and turned away from the counter, heading for the glass doors, a plan formulating in his mind.

it was rather simple - he would watch you for a while, a week or so at most, before making his move. he'd learn your schedule, habits, routine, he'd learn everything about you before striking.

but, that week passed, and instead of killing you, he kept watching from afar. it was strange; he usually never gave it a week, he'd strike immediately. he didn't care for learning about his victims, he didn't see them as people, just prey. were you just prey? no, no no no...

no, you were special, he believed. he met you for a reason, it was no mere coincidence. you're not just another victim, not just another body to add to his long list of kills. no, you're more than that.

there's no other explanation for why he hasn't killed you yet.

so, he continued to watch you from afar, see you go about your day to day life. morning's were usually lax, you'd stay in bed with a cup of tea. in the afternoon, you either went grocery shopping or to the library. and in the evening, you were working at that podunk convenience store until two in the morning.

sometimes, he'd photograph you, take still shots of you in what he deemed your most authentic state. he couldn't help it, truly, you were just so pretty; you deserved to be immortalized.

he'd printed a couple of them out, too, pinned them to his corkboard so he could look at you.

but, after a month and a half, looking wasn't enough anymore. he needed to be closer to you, needed to be. so, one night after you went to work, he picked the lock to the door of your small studio, and crept his way inside.

your livingspace wasn't as nice as you. it was messy, cluttered with junk mail and a couple dishes, some clothes strewn about the floor. your bed was unmade, stuffed animals scattered atop the mattress, a couple left forgotten on the floor beside it. there were shelves cramped with books that look like they hadn't been touched in years, dusk caking the pages and covers.

all in all, it was the complete opposite from his darling angel. his angel, who always smelled of vanilla. his angel, who dressed in the nicest things, had the kindest voice, the prettiest eyes. he never thought you'd live in such disarray.

he wanted nothing more than to take you from here to a nicer place, where you wouldn't have to live paycheck to paycheck, working at that podunk convenience store, living in this grimy studio apartment.

he wanted to free you.

- — - — - — -

op is a tboy !!!

likes + reblogs appreciated !!!

[3liza]

this is such a dumb post im about to make but im trying to watch Ryan Murphy take a run at Hannibal and doing it mostly incoherently (a show called Grotesquerie) like he does everything but it reminded me that the trope in both crime media AND real life criminal forensics is that assumption that for a killer to do something a certain way, he has to be or is more likely to be a professional in that field. the old chestnut that jack the ripper or whoever must be a surgeon or a mortuary worker or a butcher in order to "know anatomy" is complete nonsense. i know how to do so many things that have nothing to do with my actual job or training, including butchering meat, and cutting up a dead body takes like. less than "deboned a chicken five or six times" levels of expertise.

its really not some rarified skill and its pretty self-explanatory as soon as you start separating joints etc. i imagine it only takes a couple minutes of trying to saw through a human femur with garden tools before you start looking around for a better way and then figure out on your own that separating cartilage is a lot easier. which is why there are so many actual irl cases where entire human corpses have been dismembered in a fairly short period of time in order to fit them into luggage or trash cans or barrels, and the killer was just some guy. you dont need any expertise when cutting up OR sewing together parts of a carcass because surgical expertise is about doing as little damage as possible and maximizing survival, which doesn't apply to doing morbid tableaux with people who are already dead, or concealing a victim in a crawlspace or what have you. its an incredibly dumb thing that people say both on tv and in real life and its so annoying. this applies to really any forensic claim about expertise with the exception of skills that actually do take many years to get even vaguely competent at, like idk, drawing realistically. like if you are the fictional detective and you found a blood painting with excellent draftsmanship at a crime scene, that would probably be forensically relevant because not a lot of people know how to draw and its not something you can get GOOD at without a few hundred hours of investment. but just cutting up meat and sewing it back together? and not even taxidermy or tanning or skeleton articulation or clean maceration or whatever???? not relevant. tired of seeing it in crime media. its dumb. actually being able to set up a department store window scene with 200lb human bodies without them falling over or liquifying or collapsing takes a lot more specialized experience than slicing and dicing. like if i walked into a church with a bunch of dead people arranged as the last supper i would be looking for someone with a theater tech degree, not a surgeon

[were-all-idjits-here]

Claire Novak had to watch her dad go what she thought was “delusional” enough it destroyed her parents’ marriage and caught him sneaking off in the middle of the night without any sort of affectionate goodbye (like Cas just stared at her, turned around and left), he was missing for a year, then he suddenly shows back up again and an integral part of who he was before (being very devout in his religion) is gone, then something that looks like the neighbor but distinctly isn’t the neighbor tries to kill her and her family, then her dad has to leave again for reasons that aren’t explained to her. Then her mom’s eyes turn black and she kidnaps/ties her up (and who knows what else happened in the interim) only to have her dad and two men show back up to try and save her, then she gets possessed by Castiel herself - who was just gonna let Jimmy die after getting shot btw - then Jimmy begs for Cas to take him. So Cas does, effectively destroying Jimmy’s soul, she watches one of the men who showed up with her dad drink blood like a vampire and then pull black smoke out of her mom, then Cas walks away without a word. Then years later, Cas shows back up and she has to interact with the body of her dad who is possessed by someone who’s caused her nothing but pain and suffering. And it’s her dad’s body and face and mouth, but she knows her dad will never exist in that body again. You’d be angsty as fuck at the absolute best too. Stop hating on Claire.

[thescarletkiller]

Marcos: "... Can I kill your 'father'? "

- @thevillaincreator

Mmm, you don’t have to Marcos.

*grins evilly*

I already did it myself. That bastard is burning 10 feet under now.

[gigireece16]

how i’m trying to distract myself in my writing from everything that’s been occurring 😅😅

[lostdoe]

im so excited for slasher summer!!

[demonic-radio]

What would you do with the bodies when you killed them? Besides, perhaps eating them, did you ever keep "prizes" after each killing, experiment with torture devices and such? Idk like maybe peeling/carving off the skin of people's faces or removing their teeth or jaws while they were conscious or already dead. Did any of those things stay with you after you died?

((NOTICE: I'm not some psycho or anything 😭 it's only examples from true crime documentaries+ podcasts that I find interest in and understanding why and how people did what they did. Also I wanna know what the mod would headcanon Alastor doing.))

"That always depended on what I was able to do at the time. Not all of my kills were clean enough for all that."

"I would take a prize of some sort. I did enjoy tearing out the teeth or the jaw while they were still conscious, though I'd occasionally take other things as a prize, depending on who it was I killed. During life, I had to prioritize ensuring the bodies could be disposed of effectively, so I wasn't able to experiment as much as I'd've liked."

[normal-forensicdoc-cub]

Normal citizen who can do no wrong.

-~Cubfan~-

--Forensics doctor!

--He/They

--Roommates with the amazing Scar Goodtimes <3

Ignore the blood. It's from my job.

AU based on this by the lovely @ahllohehn!

⚠️This blog is not claiming to be the real Cubfan, and is first and foremost a roleplay blog! ⚠️

Mod uses any pronouns

[maraca-owl]

Deleted scene from Mac is a Serial Killer

The cut clip was used in a promo video for Season 3

[mumbokillsalot-news]

"There's something afoot!"

Disclaimer: This blog is NOT the real Mumbo Jumbo! Not heavily RPF. Character based.

Based off @ahllohehn 's AU

CW ON THE FF: - blood, descriptions of murder, killing, etc. (will change accordingly) - possible hermitshipping + trafficshipping

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MUMBO K. JUMBO >> Journalist (+ Photographer) under Hermit News >> He/Him (fine with any)

Currently living with @askordinarybirdguy! Any sound complaints will be left to this number: ██████ as none of those will be my fault.

Town Contacts ; > @normal-forensicdoc-cub > @scargoodtimes-famousauthor

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Tags:

# News Reporting | SK!Mumbo - General in-character shenanigans

# Noise Complaints | SK!Mumbo - Answered Asks

# Chuffed To Bits | SK!Mumbo - Scenario Roleplays

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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ credits: art/au >> ahllohehn

[theunconcernedembalmer]

how does mr carl feel about people who’ve escaped the clutches of death? (is rapidly pushing a wild shiloh in)

— idv-thespians

Your time will come sooner or later. @idv-thespians

[thescarletkiller]

*The next day rolled around and Nacha was back at work, this time taking cleaning duty as she mopped the kitchen floor, waiting for Francis’ early delivery..*

*All she could think about was last night.. Well, actually just Francis. She didn’t realise it, but she made a small puddle on the floor, she was shouted at by a co worker and was in the process of drying it..*

*As Francis made his usual delivery to the diner, he spotted Nacha, cleaning up. He places the milk crate in the kitchen and went over to Nacha’s side. He gave her more paper towels.*

Need a hand?