#unhealthily attached to fiction character heheehehehehehehehehehhehehehehehehehehehehhehehe

[angel13xo]

GUYS why is everyone turning on o!ciel instead of THE MAN WHO BROUGHT R!Ciel BACK TO LIFE FROM THE DEAD ?!?!?! LIKE THAT IS A LITERAL VIOLATION OF A HIMAN BODY QND HE REVELAED THAT IN FRONT OF EVEEEERREYYYYBOODDDYYYYYY. BUT NOBODY CARED ABOUT WHAT UNDERTAKER JUST REVEALED OTHER THAN THE FACT CIEL LIED?!?!?! like unbelievable he save all of ur asses at one point and THIS IS WHAT YOU DO TO HIM

[toxicevilgayshit]

cas is everything he's my all

[lonelier-version-of-you]

I don’t know how to explain it, but tonight especially I’ve been feeling so happy about Henrik and Russ that I just... loop around to being sad.

I think it’s just that... I know it’s for the better, really, because if the show carried on any longer they would 100% have ruined the relationship and made Henrik a cheater because that’s what Holby does to its bi characters. And I’m happy he’s getting a happy endgame. He more than deserves to be happy, he really does.

But I’m counting down the amount of episodes they have left to get together. And it’s reminding me all the more of how little time we have left before the show ends.

And this is the part I keep trying to explain to people - that I’m not upset about losing the show. I’m not. It 1000% deserved that cancellation.

I’m upset about losing Henrik.

He has meant the world to me and I know I can go back and watch his old episodes as much as I like when the show ends, but... it’s just not the same.

I have never seen a character I identified with so much before and I honestly don’t know if I ever will again.

[thursdayg1rl]

nearly time for me to pick my new personality trait for the rest of the school year 🙈

[andyrichardson]

the end, your friend best friend brother, crutchie

[queenerdloser]

i consistently forget that i can take claude off the battlefield to let some other kids get some hits in and level up because every time i take him off, i spend the entire battle wondering where my boy is

[vernon-s-whore]

Till Forever Falls Apart Pt.1

Kim Taehyung and Original Male!Character

part 1 2

WARNINGS: stalking, curse words, smut ig?, non-consensual photography, non-con elements, yandere behaviour, obsessive toxic stalker, contains boy x boy so if y'all homophobic then shoo!, gore, drug use/abuse

Summary: You can't expect a horror story to have a happy ending, can you?

word count: 5.5k+

a/n: Been a while since i posted on Tumblr phew- part 2 will be up as soon as i finish it. This is cross posted on my ao3 btw. i don't have a beta so feel free to nicely point out grammar mistakes, if any

All names apart from BTS are fictional.

Link to AO3

The thing about this whole ordeal was how mundanely it started out.

Leaving high school opened a new world to him, away from his home and family and everything familiar. And thrill ran on the tails of unfamiliarity like an incessant kid not wanting their idol to leave them in the dust. So, he went ahead and got himself some friends, some girlfriends, even a boyfriend or two all in the first year of uni. It was fun, his flings never lasted more than a month or two but that was okay, he liked it. Liked that there weren’t any set expectations from him and he could just… enjoy for the first time in his life.

By second semester, he had a set group of friends. Seven boys apart from himself and five girls. All of them were smart and witty and yes, he did end up on the wrong side of the bed with Soyeon and Jimin once but it was all fun and games. They were friends. Nothing more, and everyone in the group knew it.

Namjoon knew that he had issues with commitment and took care of the questions whenever someone tried to set him up for a blind date. His girlfriend Hyunji, who had taken an almost parental role in the group along with Namjoon did worry for their young friend, but didn’t say much since she seemed to understand that he will do things his own way. He did feel jealousy sometimes, looking at Namjoon and Hyunji, Hoseok and Soyeon who got together in Hoseok’s second year, with their daily routines of coffee and dates and working in silence like they were made to fit together like puzzle pieces.

The only time he ever came close to such intimacy was one night in bed with Jimin. They both had gotten drunk and somehow, he had ended up inside Jimin that night, and woken up beside him that morning and felt at peace for the first time in over seven months with his slender sunbae smiling beside him and asking if he slept well.

Jimin had roused him for breakfast and for once, he thought that yes, routine and familiarity could be a part of his life, but then Jimin got together with Jungkook a few weeks later, after months of the younger crushing on his hyung and any hopes he had of maybe getting attached to someone were dashed brutally.

He would’ve dealt with it most unhealthily, if not for Taehyung and Yoongi. Yoongi who had functioned as an outlet for him about his insecurities of ever creating fulfilling relationships and Yoongi’s words sit with him till this date.

The love you feel for people doesn’t always have to end with one in the other’s pants. You have fulfilling relationships. You have us.

He did have them. His seven boys and five girls who he would trust with his life. When Seokjin and Petra got together in the beginning of his second year, he was not really surprised. By that point he had assumed all of them would pair off with each other, leaving him alone at the end.

Seokjin and Petra, Hoseok and Soyeon, Namjoon and Hyunji, Jungkook and Jimin, and Yoongi who finally came out as ace and aro.

Which left sweet baby Taehyung who was just a few months older than him, alternating between babying him and acting like a responsible hyung around him. After his one-sided fling with Jimin, he felt the closest to Taehyung if no one else. The boy who was Jimin’s best friend helped him let go of whatever feelings he still harboured for the dance major with his snide jokes and incessant photos of his Yeontan and dragging him out of bed on weekends for outings and picnics and mall jaunts and whatnot, till they began falling into a rhythm.

Taehyung would initiate everything, and he would follow like a willing puppy, eager to please the boy but at the end unable to display his eagerness, most of it coming out as bored disinterest. Maybe if he had taken the initiative to ask Taehyung out once in a while, things would have gone differently. Maybe if he hadn’t been such a passive person all his life, he could’ve avoided the grotesque distortion of their friendship.

In their third year it so happened that Taehyung got asked out by one of the juniors.

Lee Eunso.

She was everything Taehyung could have wanted. Tall but not too tall, slim hips and long legs, tits that wouldn’t quit, straight brown hair and a face perfect enough to rival Taehyung’s himself. She was smart, and polite and confident in herself, which was appealing to Taehyung’s ideal type which he had talked about in their first year.

And while Taehyung was getting asked out and probably entering one of his real, serious relationships, he was watching on the side-lines and feeling that sense of abandonment again which, he had last felt with Jimin two years ago. The metaphorical wound in his chest throbbed again, the same way it had done when he saw Jimin kissing Jungkook in the cafeteria two years ago.

Over the next few weeks, unknowingly, he began distancing himself from Taehyung who spent more and more time with Eunso and less with the group. The others understood this, understood that one of their maknaes was branching out and developing his own social life and network out of their friend group. Soyeon and Hyunji would pester Taehyung for info on his girlfriend but he would just flash one of his adorable smiles and let go of the topic.

But he couldn’t look at Taehyung without hurting himself. From the wrist that Eunso would grip delicately to the cheeks she would kiss every morning in the hallway, he couldn’t bear looking at Taehyung anymore, withdrawing into a shell without knowing he was even doing it.

And since he wasn’t looking at Taehyung, was actively avoiding looking at his friend’s face, he didn’t notice that the moment Hyunji turned away from him, the smile dropped from Taehyung’s features, replaced by a carefully calculating blank look. And who else was he assessing but his lost best friend, who was going through his SNS but not really paying attention to it, thumb moving mechanically over the screen till Eunso arrived and sat beside Taehyung and kissed him hello, much to his chagrin.

That weekend, Eunso invited the whole of Taehyung’s group over to her fraternity house for a birthday bash. The friends went as a whole unit to the mansion-like place, grouped off in twos and threes till he was left standing and wondering where should he go. The solitude which had been an old friend now felt like a looming presence, branding him black and singling him out from the neon lights which glared everywhere.

A rich girl’s party, that’s all this was. A rich girl and her rich friends, and her rich friends’ rich boyfriends.

So, what am I doing here? He thought to himself before going to the kitchen and getting himself a beer, fear like a trapped bird thrashing against his ribcage.

It was an odd feeling, this fear. That something was about to change monumentally as electro pop thumped around him, beat heavy and echoing in his sternum till he felt he was walking in a psychedelic dream of smut and degradation, of people making out on the living room floor to a few snorting lines of coke in a washroom. The extremely rich kids who could afford the drugs.

With each cup of alcohol downed, the mansion seemed to grow alive, a sentient being growing out corridors and staircases and attics and basements only for him to discover, stumbling from one room to another to find one filled with the smoke from pot, another where a couple fucked against the wall, one which was blissfully empty.

But he had no idea how he got to this gorgeously empty and silent room- in a basement? In a second basement? How many floors under am i?- which was like a paradisical sanctuary from the headache blossoming at the base of his skull.

He stumbled forward at a slight nudge from behind him.

Alcohol was instrumental that night. Because that night, he didn’t drink to get drunk and have fun. That was the first night he drank to kill something. To kill the sorrow taking root in him like a poisonous weed. Prior to entering the room he’d only been drunk, good old sir alcohol warming his belly and lungs but doing nothing to warm his soul. But after entering the room, the weight of the past few months came crashing down now that all the walls he had carefully built between him and his emotions were dismantled brick by brick by a simple chemical compound.

The lights in the room were off. He could still hear the loud music, but it all felt distant, in another world. He should go back to his friends, really, but the silence and the darkness was so good and the bed. The bed in the room was so inviting.

He put one wobbly foot in front of another and walked into the dark room, not realising something was behind him. Someone was behind him. The someone walked into the dark room along with him, on footsteps that were quieter than a mouse’s and he didn’t realise in the dark of the room that he is not alone.

The plastic cup of alcohol in his hand was gone now, dropped to the floor, and rolled off somewhere on the bare tile as his body collided with the mattress and his face fell on soft pillows smelling like someone’s shampoo. He inhaled deeply, not caring whose smell it was, not knowing that there was a someone in the room with him, only wanting the headache to disappear.

He was too far gone to care as someone kneeled next to the bed, watching his prone form intently in the slight light entering from the windows. They reached out a hand and touched his hair softly, brushing away strands and wondering how many other people had done the same thing.

How many people had touched what was theirs and dirtied him? How many has slept beside him and thought he belonged to them?

Too many. That’s what.

Someone ran a thumb over his cheek before pressing their lips to the cheekbone. Warm. So warm.

And all mine. They smiled satisfyingly before tugging off their shoes and lying next to him, curving their body around him so they could feel all of him in his arms, drunk and passed out and completely unaware of the someone beside him who held him like glassware.

Fragile and precious. Someone thought that night in that room as their lips slid across his cheekbone and down his neck, leaving perfunctory bites and bruises, staining, marking, claiming.

The black shirt he was wearing was unbuttoned gently, so as to not wake him. He wouldn’t wake for another four hours, and in the light of the morning, he would look at his bruised body and wonder who he spent the night with. But it would all be a clean blank in his memory.

They trailed their fingers from his collarbone down to his chest, marking the smooth skin in the dark, hands marking a path down his body where soon lips would follow right after. He still slept soundly as they looked up and admired his sleeping face, highlighted by the moonlight, thrown into stark relief by shadows and ran their mouth along the thin line of hair that ran from his navel and down to the waistband of his pants. They stopped there.

It was enough for tonight.

They took out their phone, opening the camera and arranging him carefully, shirt open, smooth marked skin of torso up for display and straddled his hips, positioning themselves to take the pictures.

Blue and purple and red bruises blossoming on skin, rendered to life by a special someone and made immortal digitally, they went through the photos they clicked and chose a few, before getting off his lap and tugging on their shoes and exiting the room, leaving him sleeping behind.

___________

“Where did I put it..,” he muttered riffling through the racks of clothes looking for a certain black shirt.

“Hey man, it’s no problem if you don’t have it,” Hoseok replied, “I’ll ask Gguk or someone to lend it.”

“I think you should call them, cuz for some reason the fucker’s gone missing,” he answered back, frustrated at the loss of one of his favourite clothing items.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll show up in the laundry,” Hoseok clapped him on the shoulder and walked outside, dialling up Jungkook to lend him a black shirt for a dance performance since his own got torn during practice.

He sighed and sat down at his desk, hoping his roommates would finish their band practice quickly, because the drumming was developing into a pounding headache.

He was bunked in with two first years and was now regretting rejecting Taehyung’s order to move in with him. Taehyung had gotten his own apartment finally, raking in money from modelling gigs. With a face like that and a voice like his, he could have been accepted in any idol company, but he chose to pursue a degree in art and sculpture. He sighed. One of the younger boys must have taken his shirt by mistake. And one of his jeans. And a pair of shorts he loved sleeping in.

He got up from his desk and rolled onto his bed, weary to the bone, literature assignments pending but he couldn’t bring himself to write the 10k word short story their teacher had assigned them as their final project. He wanted to be a little experimental and write romance this time. But the thing was he had no idea what romance is like.

Smut? Sure. Murders? That’s cool. How two people fall in love? Oh, dear lord, someone save him.

A buzz in his pocket alerted him to a text.

Jungkook. Asking if he wants to go clubbing.

Who else? He texts.

Tae hyung, Jimin hyung and Hyunji noona. Rest are busy. Jungkook replies.

I’ll be there at 10.

He decided to take a nap and set an alarm for 9 p.m. That would be enough for a decent two-hour nap. Sighing and not bothering to shut off the lights in his room, he curled around his blanket and closed his eyes.

When he woke up, he felt overly warm. He should have undressed before sleeping, really. Now sweat ran down his spine and his clothes were soaked. The blanket was carefully tucked around him instead of tossed onto the floor as per usual.

He frowned. He didn’t remember doing it. He never tucks the blanket around him all the way like a cocoon, that’s only reserved for when he has a cold and Taehyung or Jungkook or Yoongi do it for him.

Maybe one of the dongsaengs did it. He shook his head and tossed the rest of the blanket away and noticed the table lamp. It was off.

He distinctly remembers leaving it on.

Leave it, maybe Jinsung came in. He thought to himself. Lee Jinsung was the most caring out of the three occupants of the shared apartment but even he didn’t barge into people’s rooms to tuck them in and turn off their lights. Nevertheless, he just shrugged it off, too groggy and in need of food to pay attention to the possible electricity bill that comes from leaving a damned lamp on.

He switched on some of the brighter lights in his room before leaving to wash his face in the bathroom. For a mild second a sense of being watched ran down his spine. But then it was gone and he went along his merry way, splashing water on his face and into his mouth, flushing out the taste and smell of sleep from himself.

An hour later he was slow dancing with Hyunji noona, who was recounting how Namjoon wants to go on a trip to Europe. He was making good money from the seminars and classes he was taking as a career guidance counsellor and they planned to leave on the trip just as soon as Hyunji’s graduation was wrapped up.

He liked listening to his noona talk about all the plans she was making with his hyung. It was a strange sort of comfort wishing what he wanted for himself on others. And under the cover of dark, he liked how she was trusting him with bits and pieces of their future, hopes and dreams conveyed in little words and smiles and squeeze of hands on his shoulders.

Later, he and Taehyung were reclined on one of the couches in the corner of the club, feet propped on the table in front of them which was cluttered with empty shot glasses. His head felt fuzzy but not that bad. He was nowhere near as drunk as he had been at Eunso’s frat house.

He felt someone’s hand on his thigh and looked up to see Taehyung grinning at him, “Yah! It’s been so long since just us hanging out!” He yelled over the thumping beats as their companions danced in front of them, Jimin teasing Jungkook by running away with Hyunji noona occasionally before his boyfriend would catch him.

He looked at Taehyung and couldn’t help but see Eunso’s face in the eye of his mind.

However, he yelled back, “Yeah man! Kinda missed you.”

“You better, you asshole!” Taehyung said before ruffling his hair in a hard brotherly way. He ignored the way his chest tightened at the contact with Taehyung’s hand, stifled the way a lump formed in his throat as Taehyung pulled away.

If only Eunso didn’t exist, then maybe, just maybe Taehyung could have been his. But she did exist and all these cravings for Taehyung were just cravings for love, not Taehyung himself.

He didn’t stop himself from relishing Taehyung’s grip on his thigh though, long beautiful hand resting casually on the black denim. He wanted to hold that hand but instead held a glass and poured alcohol down his throat.

_____________

“God this test was terrible,” he groaned, resting his head on his forearms as Soyeon rubbed circles on his back. Hoseok and Namjoon had graduated with flying colours and meanwhile the third years were giving their final exams. He was still left to submit the short story for literature but he was sure he was going to flunk it. Romance was just not his thing… and he didn’t have the means to redo the assignment again in two days.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asked, sitting across from him with a tray of food. He had wanted to visit Taehyung’s sculpture display, but he didn’t want to go there with a sullen face when his hyung was so happy with his work. “You didn’t come by this morning.” There was sadness in Tae’s voice.

His heart clenched painfully at seeing the hurt reflected in the older’s eyes and in that moment even Soyeon’s comforting hand could do nothing to lessen the pain in his chest and stomach.

“Sorry hyung,” he muttered, eyes downcast. “Scheduling conflict.”

“It’s okay you and I can go together in the evening,” Taehyung said, reaching over and patting his forearm gently. “Take a nap when you go home, you look like shit.”

He chuckled and nodded, “I will, hyung.”

_______________

“Hyung… this is amazing,” he breathed, looking at the display Taehyung had created with clay.

Two bodies, genderless, androgynous, intertwined with each other so you couldn’t see where one ended and the other began, twisted together in love, but if you looked closer, there were ropes on their wrists, tied to their abdomens, hooks digging into skin, crafted carefully from pieces upon pieces of clay, chains holding them close, forcing them close, melding them together till they were smelted into being one.

What he initially thought were their mouths agape in the act of pleasure now seemed to resemble gaping screams as their individuality was ripped from them.

“Hyung?” He looked at Taehyung who was staring ahead.

“Yes?” He kept looking ahead not meeting the younger’s eyes.

“Why did you make this?”

“It was my term project.”

“No I meant… why this?”

Taehyung thought for a moment, inhaling deeply before letting loose a slow breath, turning his face to the younger. His eyes were hard, glinting dangerously in the lighting of the exhibit.

“What is love according to you?” He questioned the younger, voice velvety smooth.

“L-Love?” He started, not expecting to be interrogated. Taehyung simply nodded, “You wrote a romance for your term project, what do you think is love?”

“Love… when people fit together like puzzle pieces...? When they are made for each other and complement each other…” he trailed off looking at the two humans twisted around each other rendered in clay, who fit like perfect puzzle pieces, literally crafted to fit each other.

He didn’t notice Taehyung’s fists clench, didn’t see the slow smile that crept onto his hyung’s face on hearing these words from his dongsaeng.

“Then this is love,” Taehyung answered, pointing ahead of himself at the screaming, hurting people. “See how they fit together?” The slight smirk on his face was unsettling as he admired his creation.

He could see what Taehyung meant. He really could. But this was not… love. Was it? This was not what love was. Love was Namjoon hyung bringing photos of turtles to show Hyunji noona. Love was Soyeon delivering lunch to Hobi hyung. Love was Jungkook and Jimin holding hands sneakily in the corridors.

Love was not this… was it?

He winced at the stutter in his voice, but he needed to say it. “This isn’t love, this looks like obsession.” He said, referring to the hooks and chains and ropes and pins holding the figures together.

“Love is obsession, aegi,” Taehyung said, chuckling darkly. He didn’t like how his hyung sounded in that moment, so he just blurted what came first to his mind.

“Well to be fair, I have no idea, I haven’t had a single proper love,” chuckling nervously he looked around, anywhere but at the tortured victims. “Love could be anything, I guess. Hell, there are different kinds of loves you know?” His voice was taking a slightly panicky tint. “Platonic and romantic and all that bullshit-“ he was rambling. He knew he was rambling, but something was unsettled in the pit of his stomach.

Something to do with Taehyung. The hurt in Taehyung’s eyes, the lead in his voice, the mania which underlined his words about love. Love is obsession, aegi.

“You are correct, there are many different loves,” taehyung smiled. And just like that, the dark frightening man was gone replaced by his bubbly hyung who was just showing him an unsettling piece of art. “Do you need help with your story? I heard you complaining to Soyeon the other day.”

His heart unravelled in relief as Taehyung’s voice softened and he sighed.

“Yeah… I actually have no idea what to write and I think I wrote something very cliched,” he admitted, partially ashamed.

“Well let’s fix it then, come on,” Taehyung clapped him on the shoulder and turned away from the exhibit, walking away. Giving one last look to the sculpture, he followed right after his hyung, heart still uneven from the weird tone that Taehyung had used.

They sat till late that night on his bed, Taehyung going over his story and making suggestions. Cliches were fine but language could be improved on. He added phrases and cut over explanation. He realised however, that with Taehyung’s additions the story was starting to take a much darker undertone. What had started out as a simple college romance/coming of age story was now morphing into a psychological analysis of love and stalking punctuated with moments of gruesome violence and desperation.

By the time they were done, it was three in the morning and he was ready to crash, mind overflowing with words and paragraphs.

“Stay the night hyung,” he mumbled sleepily, as Taehyung went over the final draft once again.

“I will,” Taehyung nodded, scrolling through the words upon words. Taehyung glanced at the younger one who had a tired smile on his lips, eyes nearly closed. Taehyung waited and watched as he fell asleep, head lolling against the headboard.

He removed the younger’s outer clothes and tucked him into the blankets before slipping out of his own shirt and getting under the blankets too, sleeping peacefully with his dongsaeng’s warmth barely six inches away.

________________

Three weeks later, he knew someone had been in his room. Not one of the dongsaengs, because Jinsung and Dagam were gone on a trip with friends to celebrate the term end.

Nothing was out of place in the apartment, but he just knew someone had been there. The door was partially ajar when he came in and he remembered closing it properly after him before leaving for school. So, who was the creep who entered his home?

He found a vague answer on his desk.

A sticky note attached to his laptop.

Welcome home, love.

“Maybe it’s one of the hyungs’ pranks,” he thought to himself, studying the note carefully. It didn’t match anyone’s handwriting as far as he could remember though. He felt unsettled knowing his privacy had been invaded so easily when he was gone.

Someone had placed it there between 9 a.m. and 3 p.m. when he was at school.

The question was who?

__________________________

Three days later Dagam returned from the trip without Jinsung and he was sure something had gone wrong before the younger even opened his mouth to say anything.

“Wha-“

“Jinsung is dead,” he whispered. “Someone killed him.”

For a full whole minute he didn’t understand what Dagam was saying. Jinsung is dead. What? Jinsung. Dead. Hyung? He’s dead-

He caught Dagam before the younger collapsed onto the floor sobbing heavily and clutching at his sweatshirt crying, “ Hyung he’s gone and th-they think it was an ac-accident,” Dagam sniffled.

He had never seen his junior show such emotion so he wasn’t sure what to do except let Dagam cry into his shoulder, half screams half sobs falling from his mouth.

“What do you mean? Someone killed him?” He whispered to Dagam once the younger quietened a little, breathing punctuated only by an occasional sniffle.

Dagam nodded against his chest, seeming smaller than his actual 6 ft height, curled up in a messy ball of grief.

“I saw someone go in-into his room,” Dagam whispered, as if the walls had ears.

Maybe they did.

“Someone went in his room b-but the cameras… the cameras hyung!"

"What? The cameras what, Dagam?!" He shook the younger by his shoulders, gripping them tightly to ground the panicking boy.

"The cameras were blank, hyung," he finished softly." Entire folders cleared. No one saw Jinsung's killer."

His eyes widened as Dagam's explanation came to a halt. Jinsung dead. The note on his desk.

Someone in his home. Someone killed his dongsaeng.

But why would someone target Jinsung?! He kept racking his brains till Dagam's subsequent bout of sobbing stopped and he passed out in his arms on the living room floor.

They held a memorial service for him. Jinsung. Only his mother came. She fainted halfway through the ceremony. Most of the art and sculpture department was there to offer condolences. Jinsung's father was a no-show. His younger brother of twelve did the religious rituals for his hyung. The boy looked paler than milk as he finished the funeral rights and subsequently was found throwing up in the men's washroom crying for his older brother.

That night another note was taped to his bedroom door.

I love you, I did it for you. I'm sorry.

So his suspicions were confirmed. His stalker was the killer. He decided to go to the police but hail the police force of South Korea, they refused to investigate.

The case of Jinsung being killed was a closed case and out of the jurisdiction of the local police. The mountains where Jinsung and Dagam had gone with his friends were a different prefecture all together.

Besides, he had no hard evidence apart from a sticky note and even that didn't explicitly state what was it that the stalker had done. Since no physical harm had been caused to the one being stalked they couldn't take any action yet, especially since they had no lead on who might be the stalker.

He double checked all doors and windows before sleeping including Dagam's and changed the pass code on his door.

Sleep didn't come that night, though.

___________________

Three days later, he received another note, this one on his window. His fucking window. The damned apartment was seven floors up so how?!

Thankfully, the note was on the outside which gave him some sense of safety that the stalker/killer hadn't entered his house again.

I will have to do it again, I'm sorry. You can stop me though, if you want to. Remember, I love you so much.

The pale yellow sticky note went up in flames as he flicked his lighter open and burned the damn thing to ash.

He approached Dagam, who was reclined on the couch playing games.

"Dagam you need to move out," he said, trying to keep his voice gentle. "As soon as possible. You need to get out."

Dagam looked up, flustered, eyes rimmed red from too much screen time and also from crying day and night. "Hyu-"

"You have to leave. You can't stay here anymore," he said, pulling the younger one to his feet. "If you don't want to end up like Jinsung, do as I say."

"Hyung what are you-"

"You need to get out by tomorrow morning. No arguments. Ask Namjoon hyung to get you a dorm on campus and do not roam around alone, especially not at night."

Dagam looked like he wanted to argue but they didn't have time for it so he stopped barking orders at the younger and gave him a one-line explanation.

"I think the person who killed Jinsung is the same one who has been stalking me," his throat caught on the word 'stalking'.

But at least, on hearing this, Dagam understood why he was being thrown out. By that night, his packing was finished and a motel room had been arranged till he could find a dorm.

Two days later, Dagam moved in with three other first years of his major. Hopefully  this would be enough to keep him safe.

He received a note that night, on his dining table.

Good job, love. You saved him. I have a gift for you.

And next to the notes a discreet grey square box. He eyed it apprehensively, the silence of the empty apartment weighing on him too much. He felt like someone was watching him, keeping an eye on his reaction. So he schooled his features into a mask and opened the box.

Inside was a single photo of him, bruised and half naked, passed out on a bed taken from an angle that showed every single detail of his torso.

The scary thing about it was how closely the photo had been clicked. It wasn't some wide angle lens kinda shit, it was a plain old photo from a plain old mobile phone and his stalker had been close enough to click this picture.

Jinsung's killer had been inches away from him while he had been unconscious at that damn frat party.

He tore the photo into pieces before dropping them back into the grey box.

The stalker had been inside his house again. For fuck's sake-

He went to check the security cameras and after much pleading, got access to the one near the elevator. The stairs and elevator had a blind spot but right around the end of the video which was timestamped 2 p.m. today, he saw a flicker of black at the edge of the screen. The tip of a shoe and a leg before those too disappeared from sight.

He changed the passcode again and checked every single window in all three rooms, before locking the two rooms shut with the master key and then heading to his own bedroom. But nothing would remove the sense of being watched.

He could tell his friends. Jungkook and Jimin and Taehyung and Yoongi and the Noonas and Soyeon… they could all help. Maybe even Eunso could help.

"I'll tell them tomorrow," he said out loud, as if saying it out loud will make it concrete. "I'll tell them tomorrow and everything will be fine."

With that resolution, he crawled under his covers and tried to sleep. But he still felt like someone was in the room. There was no way he would be able to sleep with the lights off. So he turned on the light and froze in horror as his eyes shifted to the window.

His stalker stood in the balcony holding a camera.

[nounaikakumeiigirl-archived]

we're all just some affection starved mentally ill people who's unhealthily attached to fictional characters aren't we

[mollymauk-is-fine]

Time to see if I, yet again, get unhealthily attached to fictional dnd character to the point of correctly denying his death for the next three years! Campaign 3 lets goooooooooomollymaukisstillfine!!!

[hotdemonsummer]

but very seriously its not healthy to get that attached to a fictional character to the point where any criticism of them is “hate” or a personal attack. its very common in any fandom for people to cry that their favorite is hated on for no reason, and not once have i ever seen that to be an accurate assessment of the situation. in this case with luci, he is the most popular character across the board according to the popularity polls. he’s beloved. hes also a complex character who often mistreats others and behaves in a way that is rightfully upsetting or distasteful to many. if you are so tearfully angry that other people have a different opinion than yours, you need to turn your computer off. im serious. fandom microblogging isnt healthy for you.

people posting thoughtful critique of a character is not hate, people cracking jokes at a characters expense is not hate. and even if it is genuine hate... so what? people have as much a right to fandom spaces to talk about why they hate something as much as you talk about how you love it. you cannot and should not demand others to “get out” of a public spaces. curating your experience falls on you. 

and dont come to me like “oh this character is my comfort character i physically cant see negativity for them or ill die! thats why i need everyone to stop posting hate of them” because its a filmsy reason. i have ccs too, and ive cracked jokes on this blog abt criticism of my faves, but im not running around lambasting strangers on the internet telling them that theyre somehow morally wrong for a fandom opinion. block everyone in the world if you want, i dont care, but being unhealthily attached to a fictional character is your business and if you try to shove it on to everyone else, youre an ass.

[venusluvrr]

The Psychological Horror Manhwa “Killing Stalking” is not a Romance, but an Emotional Series Depicting the Codependent Relationship Between Two Ill Individuals

Content Warning!!: contains mentions of sexual abuse (rape) and mental illness.

Killing Stalking is an immensely twisted webcomic series, mainly popular within the Yaoi community for its boy on boy focused plotline. The story follows characters Yoon Bum (Bum), a shy, scrawny young man with a haunting past filled with abuse, and Oh Sangwoo (Sangwoo), a younger man who also has a quite damaging upbringing but masks it perfectly with his vibrant, extroverted personality. After being saved from a rape attempt during his time serving in the military, Bum develops a crush on his saviour, Sangwoo, from which an unhealthy obsession starts to arise and he eventually finds himself locating and breaking into the man’s home one day when he’s out. When he does, he discovers a terribly injured woman being held captive in his basement, and with further evidence, soon comes to the realization that his crush is actually a serial killer -- hence the name “Killing Stalking,” as Sangwoo kills and Bum stalks. For a very specific reason though, Sangwoo decides not to kill the man that had been stalking him, and instead holds him hostage in his custody. From here, the story goes into exceeding depth of the abnormal, toxic, and manipulative relationship the two form during their time spent together. By just the mere description of it, it’s a bit concerning to know that a large portion of readers still support Sangwoo and Bum’s relationship. In other words, they believe they truly loved each other and that the story was not only horror fiction but a romance as well. One could easily come to this conclusion by basing their relationship on the few parts within the novel where they showed affection towards each other -- for example when Bum allows Sangwoo to hug him to sleep when he suffered through the night, or my personal favourite, when Sangwoo buys Bum a stuffed frog keychain after finding out that he had an affinity for such creatures. But we cannot simply dismiss the underlying factors of their relationship because of some cute things they did that made our heart melt -- Sangwoo still abused Bum at his leisure which makes those moments quite meaningless in the sense of it all. What Sangwoo and Yoonbum shared can’t be classified as “love,” because even with their peculiar bond and endearing moments, the psychological damage they both endured played a bigger part in the way they perceived each other.

Many toxic relationships start out lovely and glamorous until the couple have become comfortable enough to start revealing some bad habits, but in Sangwoo and Bum’s case, they were already off to a bad start, as the reason they remained with each other was solely for reasons pertaining to their poor mental health.

At the time Sangwoo saved Bum in the military, Bum still suffered from Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) -- a disorder he inferrably developed due to the fact that he grew up being constantly physically and sexually abused by the people around him. People with this illness may easily develop an infatuation for a person who shows them even the least bit of care; It can reach the point where they begin to idolize them and see them almost as a perfect human being -- which is exactly how Bum viewed Sangwoo after he helped him to escape a rape attempt. The likely specific term for what Sangwoo was to Bum is a Favourite Person (FP). To an individual suffering from Borderline Personality Disorder, their FP is everything -- their self-worth, identity and emotional dependency all rely on this one person, making them the center of their lives. In contrast to this sincere fondness, the only reason Sangwoo kept Bum alive was because of the man’s resemblance to his late mother -- the one person in his life who he truly loved. While his father was abusive and negligent, his mother tried her best to care for her son even while her own mental stability wasn’t so great either. Even though it was implied that he was responsible for the murder of both his mother and father in high school -- getting away with it scotch-free because of how perfectly executed his plan was -- he still shared a special bond with the woman, allowing her existence follow and continue to torutue him mentally as he grew older. When he saw Yoonbum, he felt as if she had been somewhat resurrected, or at least he could pretend so by dressing him up in his mother’s clothes and making him cook and do the chores; He also played the husband role by abusing and assaulting Bum just as his father did to his mother -- mostly just out of his own nature. Sangwoo had his own issues, “mommy issues,” and he initially needed to keep Bum alive so he could fulfill his own longing desires. Knowing the man’s character though, things wouldn’t end there and instead headed down a very gruesome and frightful path.

The very reasons that the two were drawn to each other we’re even more evident the longer they lived under the same roof. While Yoonbum continued to recall the perfect image he had of Sangwoo in his head, Sangwoo continued to manipulate the man in order to satisfy his own needs. A healthy relationship cannot be based on deceit, because one person will end up victimized instead of loved.

Oh Sangwoo is a sadistic sociopath with a history of kidnapping, abusing, raping and torturing innocent people, and because of his illness, he shows feels and shows no remorse for his actions and even proceeds to kill off his victims as they pleaded in objection. What some people don’t understand is that when Sangwoo met Bum, the only reason he treated him differently was not because he thought of him as special, but because he had a personal agenda that included making Bum think that was the truth and that he was indeed the favoured victim among many. It’s no surprise with the man’s manipulative personality that he would enjoy planting a lie in Bum’s head to make him stay and continue to do as he says, and this is confirmed whenever he returned back to his old destructive habits even after showing the man acts of affection. Yes, Sangwoo spared Bum’s life, clothed him and fed him, but as their bond grew, his narcissistic attitude was still more apparent than ever.

Upon meeting Bum for the first time, Sangwoo didn’t hesitate to aggressively break his ankles to prevent his mobility, he left the man within the dark confinement of his basement for a certain period of time before letting him out only after he had gained his trust. He made him sit in a chair to wash dishes and make dinner because he could no longer stand. Sangwoo also constantly dragged Bum down with derogatory words and statements every chance he could get, this included calling him a “retard,” and referring to him as a “disgusting” and “filthy” human being. As confirmed by the author, Sangwoo is also heterosexual, which is further proved by the homophobic remarks he made towards a significantly older man who was sexually attracted to him while murdering him with Bum’s aid. This fact alone is another one that should justify a strong point that demonstrates the true hostility of their relationship -- Yoonbum never gave his consent to have sex with Sangwoo, nor did he allow it to happen because “he wanted it.” He specifically used phrases such as, “No,” “Stop,” and “It hurts,” implying that sometimes there was no mutual agreement when they had sex and Sangwoo had actually raped him several times.

People with Borderline Personality Disorder have been reported to have difficulties seeing the faults in their partner -- this explains why Bum still held on to him. He chose to stay when he had the chance to escape, and with tears rolling down his face from excruciating pain he still told Sangwoo he loved him. In a scene where Bum is left alone with the police as they investigate the suspicions they have surrounding him, he questions them saying, “Could you kiss somebody like me? Could you love somebody like me?” As he believes nobody but Sangwoo could answer yes to those two questions, convinced that Sangwoo really does have feelings for him. It’s saddening to know that the poor man had successfully been lured into a trap, and because of his mental health it would be much harder for him to realize it.

To the readers that think, “Sangwoo and Yoonbum needed each other,” -- You’re not completely wrong. They did need each other in the way that they found somewhat of a saneness from each other’s presence, each using one another to each other’s benefit. But being together at the same time built on their insanity, as the presence of Sangwoo’s mother seemed to grow even more prevalent with Bum, who resembled her, also in the picture, and Yoonbum growing so unhealthily attached to Sangwoo that he constantly feared of abandonment and turned the sociopath into the only source of his happiness. They needed each other, but not for the right reasons. They were attached to each other, but there was no love, otherwise it would reflect throughout the story. One of the most debate-worthy scenes that challenge this fact is when Sangwoo is reported by an old lady in the hospital, the one that had ended his life, that he was calling out Bum’s name throughout the night as he lay in his deathbed. Those were his final words, and Yoonbum’s final word was also Sangwoo’s name before he was very well implied to have been hit by a car while he chased an illusion of the man he “loved.” Even I almost felt that this was solid proof that even through the tough and terrible of their relationship, deep inside, the two really were in love but could not express it in the right way due to their mental health issues -- after all, what someone makes of their final moments before death is much more meaningful than most of what they've done in their life entirely. But I came to realize that the only way I could support this relationship would be if they had met in an alternate universe where they did not suffer from such dreadful childhood trauma that made them into the hurting individual they had become before meeting each other. As difficult as it is for me to picture the two with different partners, it would be best if the two had not met at all as they only fed into the severity of their conditions.

[mountain-man-cumeth]

In your opinion, was Muriel himself written true to his character in his route or was he out of character? Terrible plot aside.

uhh... that depends?

he is not very similar to his character we see in other routes but that’s a general thing for other LIs as well. during his own route, i think, i stays pretty consistent -for better or worse-. i feel like writers might not have had a set personality for him when they set out to create his route, it sort of feels like they made it up as they go.

which is not necessarily a bad thing mind you. sometimes the story shapes the character. a character like muriel needs to bend a little to fit into a dating sim formula tbh, unless you plan to have 300 chapters slowburn, i dont really hold it against anyone for making slight adjustments.

imo the main issue isnt that his character changed drastically but rather it became smoother and smoother as they sacrificed bits and pieces of it for the sake of fitting him into the story’s mold. (character driven story vs. plot driven story setbacks)

they had similar problems with every LI, lets be honest here its not a muriel problem.

-asra is shady and selfish, and unhealthily attached to one dead person

-nadia was so self absorbed that she became complicit in lucios actions

-julian is human equivalent of a black hole

these bits of their personality is what makes them, well, them. People have flaws and by flaws i mean capital FLAWS not interesting quirks. (yes, that includes trauma and mental illnesses. we are talking about fictional characters here, knowing the cause only explains the result, doesnt change it)

muriel is an executioner, by CHOICE, he was so lonely that he willingly and knowingly traded dozens of lives to save one person he had looking out for him. knowing fully well that what he’s doing is wrong.

thats not the muriel we get in his route, instead he’s facetuned, flaws smoothed out, perfected for the casual player to indulge in his romance with no moral qualms. and the route is worse for it.

[simonalkenmayeris-still-dead]

Here's my take on Simon/Kristin, as someone who has been in the roleplaying community for years: Simon is an original character, influenced quite obviously by the character Hannibal Lecter, with supernatural elements thrown in so to make him "interesting". Don't mention that to Simon/the writer though, they hate the comparison because it interferes with what is believed as fact rather than fiction.

That's fine. What isn't fine is how Simon's writer breaks rules of roleplay etiquette, which include not seperating fact from fiction, and has ultimately created a self-insert character who is so much more "intelligent" than everyone else and "perfect".

The writer looks for people to interact with that will feed them compliments and believe the character is real, which is dangerous for everyone involved. Anyone who calls bullshit or offers critiques about the inaccuracies in their stories (aka headcanons and drabbles) are aggressively condescended to for breaking "the immersion" of Simon, who is a perfect character that's actually real and totally knows more than you.

Simon's writer reads one wiki page and decides that they know all there is to know and if someone points out a fallacy, they just use their headcanon about Simon "actually being there" as a weak defence before gaslighting the critic and making a strawman argument.

Do I believe that an ancient supernatural creature has not learned a damned thing about humans yet that they need to make "a survey"? No. Nor do I believe that if such a being existed, their great plan would be making a tumblr where they show off how edgy they are and rant about how - despite claiming they need no belief or approval - they are real.

It all just points to the writer needing an outlet in which to make Simon as "real" as possible for themselves. Because the more people believe, the more they can believe, and generally feel good about themselves in this echo chamber. I'm not saying the writer is mentally ill - or that having a mental illness can excuse offensive behaviour - but when you start doing things that bend reality to suit fiction (like Kristin claiming Simon is real and a friend of hers and sorry for dragging her into his affairs), well... it's all very convenient, for want of a better word.

I personally believe that Kristina is the kind of person who vastly overestimates her own intelligence and she's kind of projected / compensated for that by making Simon allegedly super-intelligent.

But almost all self-inserts are like that. If you think about it, him being a monster rather than a vampire is really just a façade so she can say he's not a mary-sue because he's not "beautiful".

Which really tells you about Kristina's writing chops, that she thinks that's the most important aspect of her character.

In fact, I can't check because I promptly deleted The Creature's Cookbook when I decided it was too painful to read all the way through, but I don't recall Simon expressing much emotion in the part of it I did read. He mainly described the emotion other people must have been experiencing.

But I do also think that Kristina has become unhealthily attached to the Simon character. I read recently that what most people say about other people is projection (which doesn't bode well for me), and Simon is constantly saying people "bully" him because they're jealous of him and have no self confidence.

[autismvampyre]

yes i made a peter maximoff playlist stfu ok

my peter maximoff obsession may or may not have resurfaced but thats fine im just very unhealthily attached to this fictional and frankly white washed and racist character

also most of the songs have the name "run" in the title or in big parts of the song bc im clever like that cause believe it or not, peter maximoff runs

also rip pietro

[lonelier-version-of-you]

and maybe it’s silly, really, to be so upset about losing Henrik when he’s like the one character who’s currently building up to a happy ending - coming out and finding a loving relationship. (also sort of getting a second chance as a parent, which makes me wonder actually if that’s part of why they chose to give Russ a teenage daughter.)

I mean, Jac has a brain tumour and may very well get killed off. Dom’s losing his mother (although he may be getting a romance with Jeongsoo, so, swings and roundabouts), Eli’s pretty clearly set to lose his wife (which makes me very annoyed and frustrated with the writers, because, like, can’t the autistic man of colour please have a happy ending, can we please not fridge his wife, thank you). I guess there’s Josh and Ange, who are struggling right now but have a happy, healthy relationship and I’m sure they’ll get a happy ending.

but. still. I’m glad Henrik is getting a happy ending. but it still doesn’t make me feel any better about the fact that the show’s going to end and that will just be... it.

letting myself get so incredibly emotionally attached to this fictional character was a mistake, lol, not that you all didn’t know I’m unhealthily attached to him already.

[asras-hat]

I'm about to go off, so look away now if you don't want to hear my useless ramblings.

So I've seen SO many people talking about how much they hate Asra, and on the one hand (even though I don't understand how anyone could hate him), I really don't care. He's a fictional character, and although I disagree with the people who dislike him, it's not that important in the end. However, I think that a lot of people make snap judgements about his character without taking into account that he has very realistically-written emotional baggage, and although he's fictional, a lot of people in real life deal with some of the things that he does. This has been a long time coming, so without further ado, I present to you my way-too-long Asra rant.

First of all, the thing I see people mentioning the most is Asra's and Julian's super-messed-up relationship. And I agree that Asra was partially to blame - but people neglect to look at Julian's side of the relationship. People characterize him as a victim - he just wanted Asra to love him - but keep in mind that Asra told him repeatedly that he wasn't interested, and Julian kept it up, even going so far as to break into Asra's home multiple times in an attempt to get his attention. They were both emotionally-wrecked by the plague, leading them to make decisions that Asra clearly regretted and Julian did not. Neither of them apologized, both blamed the other, and they decided that they hated each other. Of course Asra was wrong not to talk it through with Julian, but what can you expect from him in the middle of everything he was going through? He was not okay, and people seem to be upset at him for not being self-reflective and mentally healthy during a period when it was nearly impossible for him to be either of those things. That's not exactly an excuse, but it is a reason to feel sympathy for him rather than dismissing him as cold and cruel (and seeing Julian as a victim without thinking about how creepy some of the things he did were).

Second, people complain that he only cares about MC and Muriel and doesn't care about anybody else. And honestly, to me that complaint really doesn't make a lot of sense, because OF COURSE he only cares about MC and Muriel! He was abandoned at a super young age and left to raise himself, and during his formative childhood and adolescent years, MC and Muriel were the only people who showed him love and kindness. The world was cruel to him, so he became unhealthily attached to the two people who weren't. He still has strong morals and a kind personality, but the only people he'd sacrifice himself to protect are MC and Muriel, because they're the only people who would do the same for him.

Also, some people claim that he had no right to resurrect MC and did it for completely selfish reasons. This might be true - he seems to have a lot of regrets regarding that whole event - but a very human reaction to the loss of something precious is a drive to do anything to get it back. People hold him to extremely high standards of self-reflection, and don't take into account how truly broken he was inside (even before he lost MC). It's unfair to expect him to be emotionally healthy considering that he hasn't trained to be that way - being an orphan on the streets, he most likely did not see a therapist. When he lost MC, he wasn't able to work through grief in a healthy way, because as I mentioned before, MC is one of the two people he's completely devoted to. So, instead of using healthy coping strategies, he focused instead on getting MC back, which he knew was the only thing that would stop his pain. Maybe he was wrong to do what he did, but he reacted in an incredibly human way, albeit an unhealthy one, and we can't hold that against him.

My last point here is that Asra is the very definition of cagey. He does not fly his feelings on a flagpole like Julian does. He does it to protect people - usually himself or MC - but just because he seems outwardly to be in control doesn't mean he is. And that's what bothers me about people who dismiss him as a character. It can be dangerous to assume the worst about someone just because they're not emotionally-expressive or deal with something in an unhealthy way, and it's honestly just kind of shitty to base your entire opinion of someone (fictional or not) on a period of their life when they were really struggling and clearly not their best self. That being said, Asra is flawed. If he weren't, he'd be a terrible character. But I love him, and even if you don't, I want everyone to realize that he's written to be completely human and nothing else, and that's why he's not perfect.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

Also, feel free to sound off in the comments - I wanna know people's opinions on this.

(Edit: it sounds kinda like I'm hating on Julian - I swear I'm not! I love the problematic doctor. I just don't like how his stans talk about Asra!)