desperately safe.

still limping toward a liar love at last sight. | yoon bum from ks. highly triggering; read rules for tw list

[stalkhim]

i’m alive kinda 

[postcard-confessions]

“I feel like a ghost.”

[stalkhim]

love is draining. mirrored on ao3.

he gets upset.

but it's the little things, the things gone as fast as they come unlike the bruises that stay, the cuts that scar. sangwoo-ya doesn't kiss him to sleep tonight, a break in the routine and it's like he's back down in the basement again with the chains clamped tight around his wrists even though he's sleeping upstairs on the off-white mattress next to sangwoo-ya. sangwoo-ya. he turns to look at him, sees one eye closed and the other eye obscured by the fluff of his blond hair. blond dyed hair. he could never pull off hair dye himself; hair dye would just highlight his ugliness instead of his roots. sangwoo-ya is anything but ugly and he'd look good with any hair color, probably. not like him.

a little hiss escapes his lips, and he slaps his hands over his mouth -- too late, so he covers his eyes. why the hell are you making so much noise, he swears he hears sangwoo-ya groan but when he peers at sangwoo-ya through the cracks of his fingers, he's still sleeping. or maybe he isn't. maybe sangwoo-ya is playing a trick on him. of course, sangwoo-ya thinks he's so stupid that a trick like that would go over his head. but he never pulls one over on sangwoo-ya even if he does, and they both know this. he clenches his jaw, humiliated by sangwoo-ya and sangwoo-ya hasn't even done anything. didn't do anything. didn't kiss him goodnight. sangwoo-ya didn't kiss him goodnight and that means sangwoo-ya is getting bored with him, obviously.

it's not fair. it's not fair because sangwoo-ya's indifference cuts a hole deeper in his heart than any knife could. it's not fair because maybe he's trying too hard but when sangwoo-ya tells him to stop saying sorry, it's annoying, what is he supposed to say to that? it's not fair because maybe he'll get bored of sangwoo-ya in turn, play hard to get instead of trying too hard; staying silent when sangwoo-ya calls him instead of snapping to attention, lazily call out that he didn't make anything for dinner because he didn't feel like it, but that'll never happen because he imagines sangwoo-ya's jaw dropping just like he wanted but it's short lived when his eyes narrow darkly at him just as fast, you didn't feel like it? what the hell does that mean, and he already hears himself backtracking in his head ah, n-no -- no, didn't ... didn't feel good, i mean. s-sorry. it's not fair.

it's not fair but life isn't fair so maybe he'll just die to get back at him. take some pills and slit his wrists and comfort himself in his last moments imagining the look on sangwoo-ya's face when he comes home and finds his dead body, already frigid and stiff. sangwoo-ya rushing towards him and crouching down and gathering him in his arms and begging him not to leave him, that he's sorry, in tears as he pleads with him to please please open your eyes, come back to me don't leave me i love you so much i can't live without you and sangwoo-ya will care about him, but he won't be alive to see it.

so maybe he waits, ties a noose around the ceiling fan in the kitchen and waits until he hears sangwoo-ya punching in his passcode to push off the chair, and just as he feels the loop tighten to a knot around his neck cutting off the oxygen to his brain sangwoo-ya opens the door and sees him hanging, reacts faster than he ever could and drops his bag and rushes to his side and saves him, saves him again, lifts his body up by the waist and gives him more than air in his lungs (love) and reaches over to grab something sharp (he'll make sure to hang himself near the knife block so sangwoo-ya doesn't have to let him go) and cuts him down. and then sangwoo-ya holds him, cries in his hair and he cries in sangwoo-ya's chest.

but maybe sangwoo-ya just lets him hang, watches him gurgle on the last signs of life caught in his throat until his lungs are empty and so is his heart.

the smile drops from his lips and he didn't even realize he was smiling, skin pulled tight over his chapped lips. but sangwoo-ya loves him even if it's only in his head and the fantasy overwhelms him with emotion, sangwoo-ya's sleeping face is a canvas for his imagination and he wonders how sangwoo-ya's face would scrunch up when sangwoo-ya cries for him, when sangwoo-ya realizes too late that -- that what? that sangwoo-ya can just replace him. kill him and grab another girl prettier than he’d ever be off the street to take his place. he’s replaceable, sangwoo-ya can replace him easily with a snap of his fingers or a stab of a knife.

the thought makes him want to hurt sangwoo-ya. to get back at him. so he does, in his own way. he’s too afraid to say the words aloud so he mouths them instead.

i hate you, tentatively mouthed at first but then the rage builds in his face as sangwoo-ya's features still look relaxed and peaceful and innocent in sleep and his lip curls cruelly, i bet your mother did too! little puffs of breath make some sounds, the m in mother and the d in did.

he worries that sangwoo-ya heard him, eyes him warily and waits for sangwoo-ya to slap the shit out of him but when sangwoo-ya still doesn’t wake up, he’s disappointed. he sighs, looks away and closes his eyes.

maybe he’ll just leave.

[stalkhim]

‘ are clowns ever seen without their makeup? ’ he blurts out and he blushes up to the roots of his hair, he bet he looks like the clown now. ‘ um. n-never mind. that was stupid ... i’m sorry. ’ 

@heswicked.

[stalkhim]

‘ do you do your own stitches? ’ a gulp, ‘ you ... you seemed like a medic to me. i-i don’t know why i thought that. ’ 

@earboned.

[stalkhim]

a plastic bag in his hand, walking home and he sees a kid, alone and young and with more potential than he had at that age, more than he’ll have in a lifetime. his heart breaks for her but he knows he’s going to keep walking. pass her by because that’s the kind of person he is. never making a difference. a bystander.

he stops. cranes his neck to look at her, ‘ um ... are you ... lost? ’

@gooselullaby.

[sh-ynch]

[stalkhim]

‘ if … if you don’t have an answer when, when someone asks you what your ideal super power is, then we … no, wait, you also have to have at least … five? uh, three, three runner ups, and … and if you don’t have an answer then we … can’t be friends? ’ he clears his throat, ‘ uh, i … think i messed up the joke. not that you’d …. want to be friends with me anyway. hah … ’

[stalkhim]

‘ d-does ... ah, ’ he’s not sure what to call it, so he puts two fingers to his mouth and puffs his lips like he’s smoking a blunt, ‘ does it make you ... calmer? ’ 

@nanpoghan.

[stalkhim]

he shouldn’t ask but he does, does because he thinks she might be just like him, sleepless nights with a blade in hand, skin split and it hurts, hurts, hurts, wakes him up even though he was already wake. not that kind of awakening. 

‘ ... this is ... um. i-i noticed you have ... bandages on your, your arm? ... ’ 

@hxpelessnurse​.

[stalkhim]

‘ i ... think i might be a bad person. there’s, there’s a reason people value ... intelligence over kindness, right? when people say you’re kind ... i think, i think that’s ... a stronger virtue, because ... it’s so unique! ’ and then he deflates, doubles over and hunches his back like he’s been dealt a punch to the gut, ‘ but i’m not a nice person. and a smart person would know how to be nice -- uh, good. know how to be ... good. a good person, i mean. ’

[ghostling]

H O R R O R . P R O M P T S

“I just got back from the cemetery.”

“I swear I just saw someone… or something looking in my window.”

“I know I closed the damn closet door, but it keeps opening! Please tell me this is just some kind of joke you keep pulling.”

“What’s behind you in these pictures…?”

“Apparently like 20 years ago, some girl slaughtered her family in the basement.”

“I think there’s something about this house that you’re not telling me.”

“I keep hearing noises coming from the attic…”

“I know what I saw, and whatever is in the basement… it’s not human!”

“I didn’t have time to see what it was! I just got the hell out of there!”

“Whose grave were you bringing flowers to…?”

“The electricity guy said there was absolutely nothing wrong – and yet, the lights always flicker on at 2am. Explain that to me?”

“Why don’t you spend the night in that house ‘alone’, then try to convince me that you don’t believe in ghosts.”

“Y-you don’t understand, he didn’t have a face!”

“I had a dream that I killed you.”

“Ah, yes… the room you’re staying in. It’s a paranormal hot spot, apparently.”

"I keep hearing whispers at night… I-I can’t sleep!”

“There was something else in there with me, I’m not going back to that house.”

“Come on, it’s just an urban legend…”

“Are you trying to tell me I’ve been sleeping in a dead girl’s room!?”

"I keep getting the feeling that someone is following me.”

“Don’t panic… but I think there’s someone else in the house.”

“I can still feel her/his ghost, and it’s killing me…”

“There’s something growling in the basement… could you, uh… check it out for me?”

“Can you just… can you please check the closet?”

“P-please… put the knife down.”

“I bought this haunted ring on eBay!”

“No, no, no – run!”

"I didn’t forward one of those freaky chain letters and now I keep hearing the laughter of children coming from my hallways at night.”

“The dead are all around us…”

“She’s dead! She’s dead and yet I keep seeing her, everywhere!”

“There’s something breathing under the bed…”

"You can’t tell me you don’t believe in ghosts after all we’ve been through.”

“I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see, something… that wasn’t supposed to be here.”

“Maybe an exorcism is in order…?”

“I woke up, and it was j-just… staring at me.”

“He was there, then like a second later he literally vanished! I saw it happen!”

“I like the ghosts here… they keep me company.”

"You can’t honestly tell me you’re in love with a dead girl.”

“Wasn’t someone murdered in this house? Why are we here?”

“If dying means being with him/her, kill me. I’d be happier that way.”

“Ghosts aren’t real. You need help.”

“…what do you mean we didn’t talk last night? You came over, you were here.”

“You saw something you weren’t supposed to see. And now… now you know what has to be done.”

“I’m pretty sure my toaster’s haunted.”

"What’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Don’t! Don’t you dare open that door!”

“I visited his/her grave for the first time today…”

“Something terrible happened here, didn’t it?”

“Wh-why do you have a knife…?”

"You’re all bloody, what happened!?”

“You know that book from The Evil Dead? Yeah, well… I’m pretty sure we found something pretty damn similar to it.”

“You’re bleeding…”

“How can you not see it…? I’m dead! I’ve been dead for years!”

“I’ve always wanted to see you choking on your own blood.”

“I’m sorry, I’m busy Friday with the… funeral and all.”

“I’ll never forget the sound of his screaming.”

“From the looks of it, the afterlife is a lot more fun than this.”

"Legend has it that you can still hear her crying for her lover in the dead of night.”

“I want to be dead, too.”

“Well don’t you look lovely, all covered in blood.”

"Whoa – wait! Please don’t go down there… let’s just get out of here, please?”

“You played with a Ouija board!?”

“Me and some friends played with a Ouija board the other night… and things have been a little strange since then.”

“There’s so much negative energy in this house… do you know if someone died here?”

“You’re always hanging out in cemeteries… and yeah, it’s kinda creepy.”

"They just don’t believe like they used to…”

“I will haunt you until the end of time.”

[stalkhim]

@xxsangwoo

continued from here.

he flinches, braces for a hit that never comes until it does but not now. sangwoo-ya cups his cheek in his hand and sangwoo-ya’s palms are warm and calloused and smell nice (it’s the dish soap he uses, green and frothy and the same one he used but his hands never smelled as good) and sangwoo-ya makes him feel loved in the worst way. he can’t do this. he can’t go back to being slapped and punched and kicked and cut. 

‘ i won’t be able to handle it. i'll probably die from the pain, ’ he sobs out and his shoulders cave in but he can’t give up. he thinks he can convince sangwoo-ya because sangwoo-ya is a rational person and sangwoo-ya hasn’t gagged him so sangwoo-ya wants to listen to him, right? sangwoo-ya wants to listen to him now so he babbles before he can’t, before sangwoo-ya gets fed up with his voice and gets fed up with him and, and. 

‘ sangwoo-ssi, i’ll make it up to you! i’ll wash the floors without a complaint! i’ll cook your dinner and live off the crumbs that fall on the floor! i’ll even clean the toilet with my tongue! ’

[stalkhim]

‘ hello. they said you did ... um, ’ he forgets the word, a simple word he forgets and he feels stupid. looks stupid when he paddles his arms like he’s waddling through water, ‘ do you give ... lessons? ’

@konpcki.

[stalkhim]

he looks at his hands and twiddles his thumbs, he’s an insult, an insult because he’s unwashed and unkempt and unfashionable and he’s being compared to someone who is not any one of those things. they’ll probably laugh in his face and ask if the directors are playing some sort of joke on them because they’re not as ugly as he is, right? he’ll never pass as them! 

 ‘ i'm your ... stunt double. the new one, ’ he says, doesn’t ask what happened to the last one because it sounds scary.

@colorfaded.

[stalkhim]

‘ excuse me, ’ he mumbles and he’s not sure she heard him, so he raises his voice and his ears ring because he’s speaking too loudly now to compensate, ‘ e-excuse me, do you work here?! ’ she’s wearing the restaurant uniform and he curses himself, she probably thinks he’s an idiot. he can’t meet her face so he looks past her, ‘ i’m ... i’m looking for ... for someone! did ... did you see him? did he come in here?! ’ he pants, out of breath and it doesn’t even occur to him that someone could be anyone to her because it’s not just anyone to him. 

@akumafleurs.

[veraxest]

        “…do you need anything?” He couldn’t help but inquire, violet gaze transfixed in the stranger guy as he wondered what had him here staring, was it because of his tracker? Because he was curious about Ajin? He didn’t know but it made him feel uneasy. 

@stalkhim || starter call  

[stalkhim]

he likes to watch and watch he does, seated on the curb of the sidewalk with his knees pulled up to his chest and his fingers scratching at the rough of concrete under him. passerby walk past him and some wear hats and glasses, some have their hair pulled back and some don’t even have enough of it to clip up. he likes to fantasize he’s the one clinging to their arm, he’s the one with his arm around their shoulder, he’s the one that’s laughing along to the joke he didn’t hear but can imagine. someone walks by him with orange hair that seems as stringy as his own, no companion by their side and he likes to think they’re as lonely as he is. a glint catches his eye. shiny. an expensive wristwatch that he can never afford. he blinks. that’s not a watch.

‘ ah, ’ he feels the blush heat his face, ‘ i like your wristband ... thing? ’