#Or if he knows what truly happens to them to begin with…

[fangel]

ohmygosh… you’ve done it (∩´﹏`∩)♡ my rambles ･⁀➴

i’d like to start with WHATTHEFUCKKK the concept alone is so good, so unique — I LIVE AND LOVE to find dark fics that are actually different from the ‘oh he’s a serial killer blah blah omg the nth scream slasher inspo blah blah’ NO GIVE ME PASSION, GIVE ME A MAN WHO IS TRULY LOST IN HIS WAYS W/ HIS MIND CRUMBLING IN ON ITSELF BC HES SO OBSESSED SO GONE !! GIVE ME REASON AS TO WHYYY HE IS A MESS !! you delivered that 🤍 !!

the way he has this dominance over her even without being there: picking out her clothes, specific preference to hair and makeup, surrounding her with his work--the dolls of her that can never quite be her no matter how hard he tries--aka the constant reminder of his afflicted obsession !!!! AHHH and she feels so has to maintain that perfection to keep his best interest to the point it's all she knows even tho disgusted !!!!

at first i was lowkey mad at him bc why are you spending all day trying to make a doll that looks like (me) her when the real thing is right at home !?!? but after reading i get it. he's just a sick fuck who is scared of the perfect love being gone one day. he's so desperate to hold onto the idea that he needs to preserve it, keep it forever. tbh.. #NeedThat level of obsession

okay ngl when she talks about the dolls and how they move and watch her etc i was like oh no she's gone schizo.. she's going crazy being cooped up at home with all those lookalike dolls -- BUT NO THEY'RE LIKE ACTUALLY MOVING ANDF SHIT?!?! wth and then i was like wait are they real people !? spirits !? THE HUMMING -- and then the missing girls that look like her on tv.. him being gone all the time.. okay i see you sunghoon. i know what you are

the dollhouse. just that. the dollhouse. how it depicts what's happening WOW ! such a cool twisted way to incorporate how she slowly puts things together. reminds me of until dawn with the dollhouse in the basement -- and more on the dolls, people or spirits whatever the hell, NO they are lil guardian angels trying to save her !! to warn her of what is really happening !!

the smut. HELLO???!/ the smut is a world in its own. absolutely insane but in a beautiful way. should i be scared? yeah, but i am Horny instead. break me apart !! mold me, shatter me, recreate me however you want just keeping fucking me with those glasses on dgasgfksgfa but fr... there's so much hidden tellings even in the smut. she's begging him to release that darkness he harbors onto her, telling him 'to do it' but doesn't realize the weight of her words and what's she's telling him to do. the way the darkness stirs in him, indirectly getting her permission to indulge on his twisted desires of having her as his REAL DOLL. crazy. all out of love they're both losing themselves yet getting what they want. (the audience stands and applauds)

"the experiment" and the dolls all being trial and error... fucking insane. i love everything about this so bad. his dedication.. his oath..

"Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. -- You didn’t care, you just liked the feeling of his hands on you, even if its intention was to destroy."

⤷ LOVED THIS, i feel like this sets up the whole story right here.

It’s what he couldn’t help but do to you every night. It was the only time he liked you to be messy, when you were laying in a heap of doll parts beneath him. He tried to be gentle with his curiosity, he really did, but it was as if something overtook him. That dark look in his eyes got bolder until he couldn’t hold himself back—until he just had to tear you apart

⤷ the way that this is literal... at night in workshop with literal doll parts and in bed with her she's breaking apart under his hold. wow. also doll parts by hole mention !!

her in the beginning "These days, you just wanted to be." and then sunghoon in the end "It just is"

⤷ chefs kiss, perfect. idk what else needs to be said.

the concept reminds so much of an old rpg game called "mad father" i was OBSESSED with it when i was younger and you've allowed me to escape in a (loosely) similar world. ily for this

dear kipo, your attention to details and way of storytelling is so wonderous and amazing. you've captivated me in this horribly perfect lil world. such a fucked up, pretty story. you are so so talented!! i could dissect the whole story tbh but i need to stfu

one last thing hdfjakhfkas this is so long im sorry but PLEASE listen to this song. i've had the artist on repeat for like 2 weeks and this song reminds me of this story SOOSO MUCh pls tell me what you think >.<

anyways <3 i ate this tf up. ty for your service 🍽️ !!

THE DOLLMAKER ˒˒ 박성훈 ▸  𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲!

you were sunghoon’s muse, his flawless, perfect wife that he dresses in frilly dresses and makes sure you always looked like the idealized woman. that much was evident from all the dolls he made of you that sat proudly throughout your home. but, when sunghoon isn’t there, the dolls move and show you things that would otherwise be hidden in the shadows. one day, they show you something so frightening, something completely sinister that you force yourself to believe that it isn’t real. your beloved husband wouldn’t do something like that, would he? you weren’t so sure about your answer anymore.

pairing ⸝⸝ park sunghoon 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦!

genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ established relationship, angsty & mature themes, smut, some fluff, husband & dollmaker!sunghoon, gothic vibes, supernatural elements

warnings ⸝⸝ dark content, heavy dubcon, dollification, mentions of murder and kidnapping, really creepy dolls, sunghoon is actually insane lmao, heavy gaslighting, possessiveness, unprotected sex, soft dom!sunghoon, heavy body worship, slow sex to rough sex and back to soft sex (you’ll see), manhandling, handjob, cumshots, clit stimulation, fingering, brief somnophilia, slight dacryphilia, mentions of oral (f. rec), praise, petnames (my love, darling, doll), hair pulling (m. rec), cockwarming, a lot of skinship, teasing, brief nipple play, mentions of aftercare, they are very very codependent, traditional marriage aspects

𝓴ipo’s note ⸝⸝ went a bit insane writing this because why is the smut scene alone 5.4k words??? but it’s finally here!! my first post on my new blog (that’s not part of a series) and my first darker content fic!! this was really fun to write and opened a primal lust within me for sunghoon that made me crazier… hehe enjoy loves!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 14.8k ❩    ╱    ❨ 𝓶. list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

You always strived to be nothing short of perfect, and you were immensely proud at the fact that you have never strayed from the path of the idealized woman in the eyes of their beholder.

And you were perfect. The perfect person, the perfect woman, the perfect wife. It was what you were born and bred to be, and with a smile you lived your life knowing that not a single frizzy strand of hair was out of place nor was there a single wrinkle in your dress. You were pretty, pristine, perfect. You’d ask for nothing more.

But, as the days started to pass—and your husband was out later and later for work—you started to hate the idea of perfection. You clawed at it like a noose wrapped around your pretty throat. Gone were the days where you’d be set alight with how well you presented yourself—with how much your husband loved to stare at you. These days, you just wanted to be.

In the beginning, you loved to be under Sunghoon’s watchful eye. You loved how he’d dress you in perfectly fitting clothes suited to what he loved to see you in—frills and lace. Loved how he’d fluff your hair if it was too flat or if it wasn’t up to his standard, or smooth down the fabric of your dress. You loved when he treated you like his perfect little doll. It meant the world to you, especially when it came from such an expert dollmaker like your husband himself. In his eyes, it meant you were the best of the best, that no other doll that he has made could compare—his perfect creation.

Now, the more you think about it, the more your throat closes up. But, as much as you’re growing to hate the idea, you just can’t let go of the deeply rooted perfectionism you still strive for. It’s as if it’s embedded in your skin, as if it’s in the marrow of your bones and in the blood that pumps through your veins. You don’t know how to live a life that isn't perfect, and at this point, you’re too scared to find out what that life entails.

So you put on the dress Sunghoon lays out for you before work and you style your hair just the way he likes it—and you be perfect. Because that is all you know how to do.

You stare at yourself in the mirror in your bathroom, your brows knitted together. Confusion spread throughout your body as you tried to put a name to what you were feeling. Disgust, maybe? Hatred? You didn’t know. Sighing softly to yourself, you picked up your makeup brush and dusted more of the blush onto your cheeks.

Sunghoon had already left for work, so it didn’t even really matter what you looked like right now. You stepped out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. Dolls of various sizes greeted your sight. Some had intricate and realistic outfits, the same ones that you wore, and some of them were more plainly dressed. There were dolls everywhere in your home, even some perched on the open shelves of your kitchen. It was a little girl’s dream home. The most unsettling thing about all the dolls around you no matter where you turned was how much every single one of them resembled you in some way.

It was as if Sunghoon could never quite capture your likeness exactly. With some dolls, their eyes were too big, their lips were too small, or the arch of their brow wasn’t quite right. Sometimes he couldn’t accurately carve the curve of your nose. You knew it drove him mad, not being able to immortalize you in his craft.

“You’re too flawless,” Sunghoon had told you once. You were laying in bed together and the tips of his fingers trailed along your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He used to always give you goosebumps, the good ones. Now it feels more like a chill down your spine.

You stared up at him from your pillow and watched as his eyes devoured your frame. His fingers twitched, briefly stopping their descent back down your arm, and you could tell he had the urge to test his hand at making you again. “I don’t think I’m flawless,” you smile at him, “I’m just as flawed as everyone else—just as human.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked up to your face, specifically to your smile, like he was committing it all to memory. He moved the hand that was trialing your shoulder up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently caressed the soft skin before he grazed it along your lips. There was a certain glint in Sunghoon’s eyes that you knew all too well.

“You’re flawless to me,” he stated. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip and pulled it down a little. You watched as his pupils dilated and the mix of lust and fascination that swirled in them grew. Ever so slightly, his eyes widened, too. Sunghoon moved his thumb down to your chin before leaning down to press his lips to yours.

He captured them with a certain roughness—the type that always shocked you with how gentle it initially seemed. Sunghoon’s hand grabbed your chin harder, his fingers creating soft indents into your skin as he leaned your head back and further into the pillow.

You were so moldable for Sunghoon, a shiny lump of clay ready for his skilled hands to turn you into a masterpiece. He hummed into the kiss and his teeth delicately bit down into the flesh of your bottom lip, only enough to not leave a mark. You moaned into his mouth, your arms raising to wrap around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer. In response, Sunghoon pulled his lips away from yours. He pressed feather light kisses to your cheek and up to the shell of your ear. “You’re my muse,” he whispered, before his head dipped to the crook of your neck to leave kisses there too.

You suppose that being so perfect wasn’t so bad if it meant that Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off of you—if it meant that he couldn't keep his hands off of his tools to try and remake you over and over again. Perhaps you were viewing it all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a noose around your throat, but a pretty handmade necklace crafted by his nimble fingers. If it meant that Sunghoon never leaves, then you could be as perfect as he wanted forever. If it meant that he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes on, then you would be his doll for as long as you lived.

Maybe it wasn’t perfectionism at all, but an act of complete devotion—an act of love.

Sunghoon left open-mouthed kisses along your chest and moved further and further down until the lace of your lingerie blocked his lips from your skin. He pulled away from you fully and looked down at it like he was offended. You squirmed beneath him, your chest heaving as you tried to take in any air that you possibly could. “Please,” you inhaled, looking up at him desperately.

You weren’t quite sure what you were begging for exactly; maybe for his lips to be back on your skin, or maybe for him to quell the heat radiating from your body. “Please,” you said again, your voice coming out quieter and more forlorn.

Sunghoon ran his hands underneath the sheer fabric at your stomach and you gasped at his touch. “So soft,” he sighed contently, hands trailing further up until they physically couldn’t anymore and were blocked by the lace at your breasts. His calloused hands were a stark contrast to your velvety skin and the slight roughness made you shiver.

He pushed the sheer fabric up your stomach with the movement of his hands until the bottom half of your body was completely bare under him. Sunghoon must’ve decided that he couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t bear to take the extra second to lift the lingerie over your head, because the harsh sound of fabric ripping filled your ears and the swift coldness of sudden exposure had you gasping again.

Sunghoon tossed the tattered fabric somewhere off to the side next to the two of you and in the corner of your eye you saw it fall to the floor below. His hands surged upwards, no longer bound by the restraints of your lingerie, and grabbed your breasts. Sunghoon’s thumbs rubbed against your hardened nipples and you arched your back off the mattress to give him more access. His hands dropped down to your thighs and he pushed them towards your stomach as he spread them further apart.

Sunghoon’s breath hitched when his eyes finally got a look at your glistening pussy, completely on display for him. His hand then moved from the back of your thigh and he dragged his fingers through your folds, collecting the slick on his fingertips. “Perfect,” Sunghoon breathed out.

Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he did to you every night—left you in a heap before cleaning you off and making you new again. You didn’t care, you just liked the feeling of his hands on you, even if its intention was to destroy. You knew that it was just a morbid curiosity. As long as he remained by your side, you were content in being a pile of doll parts for him to play with as he pleased.

In your bedroom, your eyes landed on a doll that wasn’t there when you had stepped into the bathroom. It sat in the center of your bed, dressed in the same lingerie that Sunghoon had ripped up. It didn’t look at you, but at the entrance of the room, with the hint of a smile that you knew was carved into the doll but couldn’t help but feel was mocking.

No matter how often it happened, you’ll never get used to the fact that the dolls moved around on their own. It only happened when you were home alone. The dolls never dared to move when their maker was home, but you still felt their eyes on you nonetheless. You had told Sunghoon about it—the two of you even waited around to see if one of them would move, but they never did. It was extremely frustrating.

You sighed at the doll and straightened your back. Leaving said doll where it was without a word, you left your room to put a start to your day.

What you weren't expecting was even more moved dolls in your kitchen. You stopped in your tracks as different, mini, and almost identical versions of you stared directly at you from the kitchen table in a circle. Usually it was only one doll that moved here and there, but this many moved dolls in the span of minutes was completely odd. Cautiously, you stalked towards them to see what they were surrounding.

It was the TV remote. You scoffed.

You grabbed the remote with a roll of your eyes. Aiming it towards the tiny box TV in the kitchen, you clicked it on and placed the remote back down onto the table next to the dolls. You let whatever channel it was left on play in the background as you started making breakfast for yourself.

“We’re here with the mother of one of those young girls today. Can you tell us a little about your daughter, ma’am?” you heard the news reporter ask. You took a pan out from under the lower cabinet and placed it onto the stove, ticking on the heat. You watched as a flame ignited, quick and large as lightning, before calming to something smaller.

A grief stricken voice filled your ears next between your soft humming. You didn’t realize that it was the tune Sunghoon always hummed when working from home—something he didn’t do as often anymore. “She was the most beautiful girl in the world—the most gentle and kind. She loved everyone and she loved love. My daughter was the single spark in this bleak night. Please, if you know where she is, please let a mother know.”

You moved about the kitchen, ignoring the way the dolls’ eyes seemed to follow your every move. Cracking the egg, you let it fall into the pan with a sizzle, fanning away the sudden smoke that rises. “The news station also has an anonymous tip hotline open for anyone who may know any information. The search for the six missing girls is still on. This Friday, the mayor will hold another search party and encourages everyone who can to join.”

Turning to throw away the shell of the egg, you caught a glimpse of the TV. “This has been—” You gasped, the shell falling to the tile below with a soft crack as your hand flew to cover your mouth. On the small screen were the pictures of the six missing girls—six missing girls who all looked eerily alike to one another, eerily alike to you. You rushed forward towards the screen, desperately needing to get a closer look at the girls’ image.

Fear and panic prickled at your skin and clawed its way up your throat. What if you were next? What if whoever was taking these girls had their eye on you to take next? You glanced around the kitchen, the dolls suddenly gone from the kitchen table and perched back in their rightful places on various shelves. What if one day you stepped out of your home to run an errand only to be met with a cloth to your nose and mouth?

You began to tremble as you focused your attention back onto the TV. Did the police have anything on who was taking the girls? Any physical descriptions or perhaps a drawing? You waited for the news to mention anything else, but they didn’t. 

Lightheaded, you felt yourself begin to spiral. Your hands grabbed tight to the kitchen counter as you tried to steady yourself and not let the fear cloud your mind. Maybe it was all a coincidence. Maybe you just happened to look like those girls but the perpetrator was after someone else. You inhaled sharply, trying to swallow down the fear and panic and let the oxygen get through instead.

The sudden loud ringing of the smoke alarm startled you and made you jump. The eggs. They were still on the stove! “Oh!” you breathed as you hurriedly moved to turn off the stove. You accidentally stepped on the egg shell in the process. “Oh no,” you said softly under your breath as you moved from the stove to the trash can. You scraped off the burnt eggs, your appetite suddenly gone. You sat the pan in the sink for you to wash later.

Bending down, you meticulously picked up the pieces of egg shells on the floor to throw away as well. When you turned from the trash, there was a singular doll back on the kitchen counter. You jumped again.

It pointed towards the hallway to get to your living room, unblinking. You stared at it for a moment—at yourself. Why were the dolls doing this? “Fine,” you say, smoothing out your dress, “I’ll play along.” You need a distraction from the missing girls anyhow.

You left the kitchen and made your way down the hallway that the doll pointed to. As you slowly made your way down it, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary besides the way the various dolls’ eyes followed you. You make the bend to the end of the hallway and freeze.

At the end of the hallway was the displayed dollhouse that you didn’t touch. Sunghoon didn’t even let you clean it, opting to clean it himself. It meant a lot to him and he took great care for it to be in as pristine condition as possible. The dollhouse was a perfect replica of your home, down to the welcome sign you weaved on the front of the door. You’ve never even seen the inside of it… until now.

There was a crowd of dolls on the ground below it, more than you’ve ever seen moved before, pointing up at the scene portrayed in it. Swallowing thickly, you stepped further forward as a chill ran down your back.

In the dollhouse were only three dolls: one of you, one of Sunghoon, and one that you couldn’t even begin to understand what it could be. You took another cautious step forward, leaning in to get a better look and taking care to not step on any of the dolls. The scene depicted in the dollhouse was quite simple. You were upstairs in you and Sunghoon bedroom, asleep. Sunghoon was in some room you’ve never seen before, carving away at a doll that you could only assume was of you. Behind him was the other doll, covered in different, mismatched layers of fabric. It was so covered by copious amounts of fabric that it didn’t even seem to have the body of a doll anymore. It was almost grotesque looking, in a way.

Very quietly, almost indistinct, you heard the same melody Sunghoon hums when working. Your eyes widened in shock as you furiously tried to digest and decipher the scene. You shook your head a little. “I don’t understand,” you say, the confusion dripping from your voice. “What does this mean? What is that behind him?”

There was a creaking behind you and you swung around at the sound. More dolls were behind you, pointing. You weren’t sure if they were pointing at you or the dollhouse. Maybe it was both. You swung back around to the dollhouse when you heard something move.

Now Sunghoon was in front of the other fabric-covered doll. His doll was slightly bent at the torso and his head was tilted. The thin, wire-framed glasses he wears sat low on his nose bridge. You knew that look—that inspecting look. That morbid curiosity. It felt as if the dolls were screaming at you, “Do you understand now?” You still weren’t sure that you did. Too many puzzle pieces were missing from the board and it hindered you from seeing the whole picture. The sound of Sunghoon’s humming still filled your ears and you didn’t know what to do to stop it.

More creaking and you turned to look behind you. More dolls. They filled the entire hallway, their tiny fingers pointing at you, trying to force you to understand what they were trying to show you. Behind you, the dollhouse began to violently shake and you gasped as you looked at it. Sunghoon was now back in the bedroom with you. He stood over you, his hand hovering over your arm. You knew the action it was trying to convey—you could feel the tips of his fingers trailing up and down your actual arm now, making you shiver.

You stumbled backwards, even more confused and scared at the shaking dollhouse. The front of the dollhouse slammed shut, locking in the scene of you and Sunghoon inside, and stilled. Your chest rose and fell heavily and you clumsily stumbled your way out of the hallway and into the living room, avoiding any pointing doll that you could.

Later that day when Sunghoon came home from work, you didn’t mention the moving dolls or the dollhouse. It was as if nothing happened at all, every doll was where he placed them and the dollhouse was just as pristine as he left it. You especially didn’t dare mention the scenes depicted in the dollhouse. You feared your husband would think you were crazy.

You carried the plate of hot food to where Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table. “Eat up!” you smiled placing the plate in front of him before placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. You felt him smile before you pulled away. You were turning to make yourself a plate when Sunghoon grabbed your wrist to stop you. You jumped, a gasp slipping between your lips. Trying to cover it all up, you turned back to Sunghoon with a smile.

His own smile faltered and his thick brows drew together. “Thank you, darling…” he trailed, the words falling from his lips one by one. “What’s wrong? You’re never so jumpy.”

You’d been jumpy since he got home, still shaken from the morning’s encounter. It was so bad that you nearly burnt yourself on the stove while making dinner, suddenly startled by the sound of the front door opening and Sunghoon returning home from work. When he kissed you hello, his arms coming to wrap around you, you jumped then too. You tried to distract him with your smile, but you should’ve known that nothing gets past your husband.

“It’s nothing,” you say, smiling again and giving him a slight shake of your head. “I guess my body is just getting used to not being by itself now that you’re home.”

Sunghoon sighed and pulled you back towards him by your wrist. You let yourself be pulled into his lap. Sunghoon buried his head in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry,” he says, his words coming out muffled. “I know I've been working more and more lately and I haven’t had much time for you.”

You leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly. “Can’t you work from home?” you asked meekly, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Like you used to? You work so much and you’re always gone. I miss you when you’re not here, and in return I’m sad the whole day.”

Sunghoon’s black hair tickled you as he lifted his head to press his lips to your neck, right where the thumping of your heart could be felt. His eyes met yours and the gentle pout of your lips. “I don’t have all the tools here that I do at the shop,” Sunghoon responded. When you sighed again and looked away, he continued. “But, I might be able to work from here tomorrow… I already finished most of the workload. We can spend tomorrow together, what do you say to that?”

You glanced back at him, trying to not let the happiness you felt break through your sulky demeanor. Clearly, it didn’t work, because the smile returned back to Sunghoon’s face even larger this time. “I suppose that’s okay,” you grumbled, the smile tugging more at your lips by the second.

Sunghoon chuckled, “Yeah?” You nodded, giggling at the way he dragged his nose along your cheek and the coldness of his glasses. “I love that sound,” he says, holding you closer. “I want to hear it forever.” He pulled away from you just enough to get a good look at your flustered face. Sunghoon brought his lips to yours, capturing them in a sweet and slow kiss.

Giggling more into the kiss, you broke away from him with great effort. “Eat,” you say, standing to your feet. Sunghoon didn’t let you get far. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Your dinner smells amazing, my love, but I think I want something else on the menu,” Sunghoon replies. You swatted him with the kitchen towel hanging from the pocket of your apron, your mouth falling into an open-mouthed laugh. Sunghoon just laughed more. “Do what I said,” you scolded him.

Sunghoon pulled you down to chastely kiss your lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

That night as you were getting ready for bed, you gathered all the courage you had. As you moved about your bedroom, Sunghoon watched you from the bed, his eyes trailing your figure and never leaving it. He was lounged up against the bed frame, his head tilted and the wire frames of his glasses low on his nose bridge as he stared. You were in the middle of brushing your hair, trying your best not to get crushed underneath his heavy stare. You were as bare as you could be without taking your clothes off.

When you stood from your vanity, the flowy fabric of your short nightgown moving with you, you met his gaze. For a moment, neither of you spoke and you just stared at each other. “Those missing girls…” you started, finally finding your voice, “on the news… Isn’t it odd that they favor me?” Your voice shook slightly and you swallowed down the lump forming in your throat.

Sunghoon sat up straighter, his eyes still on you as his brows drew together. You looked away, shakily climbing into the bed next to him. “I-I mean… how they favor each other. And I favor them too, don’t you think?” you continue. You really hoped that you didn’t sound crazy. That your time alone in the house hasn’t started to drive you mad and see things that aren’t there—that aren’t true. Finally getting settled as the words poured from your mouth, you looked over to him. For a split second, his face was completely devoid of anything—no emotion, not even a quirk of his eyebrow, nothing. Then, in a blink of an eye, his face was how it was before you looked away from him. Maybe you were crazy after all.

“I’m scared, Sunghoon,” you said in the gentlest whisper, “What if I’m next?”

“Missing girls?” Sunghoon says, “I’ve heard about them. But, don’t worry—” he reached over to caress your cheek “—I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe here, with me.” His hand on your cheek trailed down to the crook of your neck and then to your shoulder before he pulled you towards him. The two of you laid down onto the bed and Sunghoon enveloped you completely in his arms. You rested your head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “No one but me will ever touch you,” Sunghoon muttered against your hair.

His comforting words did nothing to dispose of the uneasy feeling you still harbored. The images of those missing girls were burned into your mind and every time you tried to close your eyes and sleep, you saw them staring back at you. While Sunghoon fell fast asleep, him still keeping you protectively in his arms, you lied awake.

Your mind shifted from the missing girls, to the moving dolls, and to the dollhouse. What did it all mean? What were they trying to tell you? You went over the scenes portrayed over and over and over again and still didn’t get it. The answer seemed so close, but so far away at the same time. What were you missing?

You thought about the scene of Sunghoon standing over you while you slept. Did he always do that, stare at you like that? How often did he do it? You wanted to ask him, but you didn’t want to risk him thinking there was something wrong with you—didn’t want to risk him thinking that you weren’t flawless like he believes. And the way he trailed his fingers over the soft skin of your arm… Perhaps it was just him checking on you. Maybe he left the room for some water and when he came back he was making sure you were okay. Yeah, that sounded logical.

Him touching you wasn’t something new—he always touched you at any chance that he could. Always admiring every curve and plane of you completely, it’s normal for him to do so. The tension in your shoulders finally dissipated and you relaxed, snuggling more into Sunghoon as you let your tired eyes flutter closed. You didn’t know what the dolls’ game was, but you didn’t like it. Sunghoon was just being a good husband, is all. It even showed subconsciously in the way his hold on you tightened as you leaned into him. He loves you. He’d never do anything that came remotely close to hurting you, ever. You were more sure about that than you were sure about anything in the entire world.

Slowly, you began to drift off—your body getting heavier and heavier in his arms—and you let sleep overtake you.

A couple hours later, you were suddenly awoken by the sound of something falling onto the hardwood floor. You jumped, eyes flying open. You were met with the cold bed, Sunghoon nowhere to be found in your bedroom. Sitting up, you looked around the room to see what fell.

You sighed as your gaze landed on the doll, it was laying on its side on the ground, staring at you. “Enough,” you said lowly, another sigh pulling from deep within you. “I don’t know what you all want from me.”

The moonlight peeked into your bedroom through the curtains and gave a little light to see with in the dark. You slipped from the bed, deciding to see where Sunghoon was. Smoothing down your bedridden hair and wrinkly nightgown, you opened the door to your bedroom and was immediately met with another mini doll version of you waiting by the top of the stairs. You couldn’t keep doing this.

You passed the shelves on the wall filled with dolls of you and other trinkets as you made your way towards the stairs. You didn’t even give the doll a second look as you made your descent down them.

Sunghoon wasn’t in the kitchen either, but there was another doll there, pointing down the hall again. You tilted your head up at it and followed its directions. He wasn’t in the lounge room or the dining room either. You turned the corner in the hallway and your eyes landed on the closed dollhouse. It was backlit by the hallway sconce, the light making the dollhouse look illuminated.

You dipped into the living room and Sunghoon wasn’t there either. None of the bathrooms were occupied as well. You were convinced that he just wasn’t in the house at all. You stood in front of the dollhouse, annoyance coming off you like steam. Your arms were folded across your chest and you glared at it. It was closed this time, and you were deciding on whether it was not to play into the dolls’ game and open it or just go back to sleep and question Sunghoon in the morning. Alas, you were too curious for your own good.

You slowly opened the front of the dollhouse, expecting to see some confusing scene waiting for you inside. Instead, there was only one doll inside—the grotesque looking one covered in different scraps of fabric. It was in the same exact place that it was in earlier, except this time there was no doll of Sunghoon inspecting it. It was alone.

Taking a closer look, you tried to figure out where this mystery room supposedly was in your home. In the dollhouse, it was located between the living room and the hallway bathroom. You looked at the hallway you were currently standing in with its own mini dollhouse inside. Your brows knitted together in even more confusion. According to the dollhouse, the room should be right where you were standing.

That couldn’t be right, unless the room was in front of you and behind the wall where the dollhouse was displayed. Closing the front of the dollhouse, you moved closer to the wall, inspecting it. There was no outline of a suspected door, no uneven floorboards that could suggest the entrance was underneath you. There was only the hallway, the small bookshelf filled with your cookbooks and Sunghoon’s doll making books, and the dollhouse. You placed your ear against the wall; maybe if there was a room behind it you could hear something.

After a few moments, you almost gave up, deciding not to play the game anymore and just go to bed. But, right when you were about to lift your ear from the wall, you heard something—humming.

It was the same tune you hummed earlier, the same tune Sunghoon hums when working. The same tune Sunghoon hummed when the dolls showed you him working in the dollhouse. This time, you knew it was real. You stumbled backwards from the wall, your elbow knocking the doll over that was suddenly perched there. You gasped before quickly covering your mouth.

Frozen in fear, you swear you heard the humming abruptly stop. You then heard slight creaking, like someone was walking towards you. Scurrying back around the curve of the hallway, you peaked around it to see if anything else would happen.

What if Sunghoon wasn’t even in there. What if it was some stranger living in your walls, and you were just assuming that it was him—that the dolls thought it was him. Or, maybe they were trying to warn you of the stranger in a way that they knew you would listen. What if Sunghoon wasn’t in the house at all right now? Your hand pressed harder into the wall and you began to shake.

More creaking broke through the air, and you watched as the small bookshelf slowly began to push off the wall like a make-shift door. You ducked further behind the wall, just enough to ensure you weren’t seen. You saw a shadow dancing across the floor as the bookshelf slowly closed again.

You were so scared they could hear how fast your heart was beating. So sure that they could feel how hard you trembled through the floor. Hear your heavy breathing like a hawk listening for its prey.

The shadow got larger and you saw a figure start to be illuminated by the light on the wall. A hand reached from the shadows and towards the doll of you that had fallen over—Sunghoon’s hand. He stepped into the light and you could finally see him clearly; saw the way the warm light bounced off his skin, the way the light reflected off his glasses, and how his dark hair fell into his eyes. You pressed your fist to your mouth to keep quiet.

Why did Sunghoon have a secret room in the house? Why did he never tell you about it?

He fixed the doll; shifting its dress so it laid properly and flattened its messed up hair. You saw the corners of his mouth raise as he placed the doll back on the shelf above the dollhouse. It’s big eyes bored into you.

Without a sound, you made your way back to your bedroom as quickly as you could. You closed your bedroom door silently and slipped back into bed, willing your body to stop shaking and your breath to even out. You closed your eyes.

You tried to remember what the inside of the secret room looked like from the dollhouse. From what you could remember, it looked to be some sort of workshop, similar to the one Sunghoon would have at the shop. If it was just a simple place for him to carve dolls, why hide it? It was possible he kept it hidden so you wouldn’t worry about how much he was working. Sunghoon knew how much you disliked him getting obsessed with his work, always carving and shaping dolls until the tips of his fingers were scarred. You relaxed again.

You’d be upset and worried, yes, but he didn’t have to hide it from you. You would understand his dedication to his craft.

A couple moments later, you heard the door knob twist. As you heard Sunghoon’s footsteps near you, you hoped you looked like you were still asleep. His presence covered you like a blanket. Just before you could feel the heat of his fingertips on your skin, you turned to look at him.

With false sleepiness in your voice, you ask, “Why are you out of bed?”

Sunghoon smiled down at you, lightly shaking his head. His hand caressed your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, my love. I was just getting a jumpstart on work so we could have more time together. Go back to sleep.” His voice was soft and gentle, like he was trying to lull you back to sleep with his voice alone.

You sat up more. “Well, I’m not tired anymore,” you say, a smile pulling at your lips. Sunghoon’s hand at your shoulder raised to smooth your hair before coming to your chin to lift it up. He leaned forward and delicately pressed a kiss to your lips. “No?” he asked in that same soft and gentle voice.

Sunghoon was already climbing on the bed and on top of you before finishing his question. He placed more delicate kisses around the edges of your mouth, his hands dipping lower. You shook your head. His hands slowly lifted your nightgown up your stomach. “You’re sure you aren’t tired anymore?” Sunghoon asked, the corner of his mouth raising ever so slightly. He was lifting the nightgown over your head so you were in nothing but your panties underneath him.

Light giggles left your mouth as you shook your head again, “Yes.”

Sunghoon’s fingers hooked underneath the hem of your panties and he slowly pulled them down your thighs. His eyes were completely focused on the way each tug revealed more and more of your cunt and how it glistened with the strips of moonlight coming through the window. You heard him exhale softly, like he couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. “Fuck…” he muttered lowly, “I don’t think I’ll ever get use to seeing this, and it’s all for me to admire.”

He fully pulled your panties off and tossed them somewhere to the side of the bed. Sunghoon spread your legs open and pushed them up towards your chest so he got an even clearer view—just like he always did before taking you apart. He moved his hands so they splayed out on the back of your thighs right near your pussy he was still admiring. You squirmed a little, the air suddenly cold on your skin and from laying there completely open for him as you waited. “Entirely,” you said hushed, looking up at him. His glasses reflected the moonlight and covered the look in his eyes. “It will always be all for you—I’ll always be all, entirely yours.”

You gasped, body jolting when a thumb was pressed into your eager cunt. Sunghoon ran his thumb along your folds, collecting the gathering slick that was forming by the second. Bringing his other thumb to your cunt, he spread you apart even more, like he wanted to watch the arousal drip out of you himself. A soft whine left your lips. You were completely naked and under your husband’s watchful eye while Sunghoon was still completely dressed. He hasn’t even pulled his pajama pants down despite the way you saw him strain against the thin fabric.

“Is that so?” Sunghoon asked, his gaze finally flicking up to you. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards and you inhaled sharply when you finally saw that all too familiar dark look in his eyes. It reminded you of the way people dissected animals, excited to see its insides and how the body worked. Just beneath it you saw his intensely desperate, fiery hot need for you. The two expressions folded on top of each other over and over like an endless piece of paper, like he couldn’t decide what made him more excited. But, you knew which one would win tonight—which one always won.

You nodded slowly at his question. After all, no matter how bitter the idea of perfection tasted in your mouth, it was nothing compared to the sweetness of your husband’s love. It overshadowed everything, clouded your mind until you could think of nothing else. You lived for it, you’d do anything for it—to keep it. And Sunghoon, he loved you for it. So, the cycle continued until you forgot what the bitter aftertaste even belonged to.

Was it so wrong for you to love the suffocating attention he gave you once he wasn’t busy? Maybe. Maybe you should feel some shame for how obsessed you were with Sunghoon. But, at least you knew the feeling was mutual. If it weren’t, you wouldn’t be surrounded by a house full of dolls that looked nearly identical to you made all by his hands. Right? Doll making was a labor of love, and Sunghoon never shied away from showing you how much he loved you.

Sunghoon leaned over you. You felt his arms brush against your thighs as he pushed his soft pajama pants down. His face hovered over yours and you stared at him with big, doe eyes. His lips brushed against yours, pulling away slightly when you tried to chase them. Sunghoon tossed his pants and boxers to the side and you felt his cock slap against your thigh, sending a wave of arousal throughout your entire body. The entire time, Sunghoon’s eyes never left yours. “Like my own, personal little doll,” he continued, his voice low. “The real thing, not any of these flawed imitations. Complete perfection, and all under my hands to do with as I see fit.”

His lips captured yours in an unexpectedly rough, hungry kiss. He moved further over you until his body shadowed you. His hands were on either side of your head as he pinned you to the bed with his body, the kiss deepening and growing hungrier. Sunghoon pulled away from you, lips plumped and wet with saliva that still connected his lips to yours. He tenderly caressed your cheek and asked, “Do you know how much I love you?”

With his other hand, Sunghoon grabbed his cock so he could line himself up with your entrance. He quirked a thick eyebrow as he waited for your answer, eyes trailing the way your chest rose and fell heavily and your breasts pushed more against his own chest. “How much,” he continued, slowly slipping the tip of his cock inside you, “I’d do for you? How I’d do anything?” Your mouth fell open as your back arched slightly at the action. Sunghoon’s gaze returned to you, his hips halting once his thick tip was completely inside you. “Do you?” Sunghoon asked you once again, his heavy gaze weighing down on you.

Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he couldn’t help but do to you every night. It was the only time he liked you to be messy, when you were laying in a heap of doll parts beneath him. He tried to be gentle with his curiosity, he really did, but it was as if something overtook him. That dark look in his eyes got bolder until he couldn’t hold himself back—until he just had to tear you apart. You used to be scared every time it happened, still not learning to expect it. You should be ashamed that you did let it happen. But, as time went on, you began to like being taken apart; began liking how each time you’d blink away the fog, you were more perfect in his eyes.

Nodding, you inhaled deeply. “I do,” you say quietly, meeting his swirling dark stare. “And I love you just as much. I’d do just as much.”

“No,” Sunghoon spoke plainly. You drew your brows together, confused. “The way I love you, it’s… cavernous. Deep and dark—pitch-black. There is no end, no beginning, it just is.” His hand trailed down to your chin. “It consumes me, my love for you. I can’t control it… I can’t control the things I’d do to ensure you’ll always love me. And you will… won’t you? Always love me?” Sunghoon asked, his eyes boring into yours.

“Yes,” you say meekly. Despite the way Sunghoon’s body blocked the little light in the room, you could still see the way he fought the darkness inside of him. “I’ll forever love you. There’s nothing that would ever change that, Sunghoon. I promise.”

Sunghoon’s body relaxed over you, and his eyes briefly fluttered shut as he shakily breathed in to further calm himself. “Good…” he muttered, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear despite him being so close. “Because sometimes… The thought of you no longer loving me… i-it drives me completely insane.” His grip on your chin tightened and he bent down to sloppily kiss your lips. Sunghoon’s lips slowly worked against yours, like he was using you to calm himself even more. Like he was basking in your love for him like you did with his love for you.

He pulled away, just enough that with each word from his mouth, his lips brushed against yours. “It makes me want to rip you limb from limb. Polish all the parts so you can see it—see how much my love for you breaks me apart.” With a harsh thrust, Sunghoon pushed himself into you completely. You cried out, the sound being muffled by his lips so close to yours. Your nails dug into his shoulders at the action. Sunghoon pulled out of you until just the fat tip of his cock remained inside. With each word, he thrusted into you. “My sweet love, my perfect wife, my doll.”

Loud gasps rang from your mouth and Sunghoon took your hands from his shoulders and pinned them above your head with one of his own. His eyes never once left yours. He wanted to see how you cracked and shattered beneath him. He wanted to witness it. Sunghoon trailed his other hand down the side of your face, his thumb running over the soft skin of your cheek before it moved closer to your mouth. His eyes shined when he dipped his thumb into your mouth and you eagerly swirled your tongue around it, his own mouth opening. Sunghoon’s pace slowed as if he was remembering himself. The languid strokes drove you crazy and your hips lifted off the bed to gain more friction.

It was a constant back and forth of back to back harsh thrusts that felt like it was splitting you open to slow, sweet thrusts that had you begging for more. With your arms pinned about you, you couldn’t even really move besides the slight lift of your hips, and they could only lift so high with how close Sunghoon pressed himself into you. He had complete control over you; over how you moved, how deeply and at what pace you felt him, and over what sounds you made with his thumb in your mouth. Your eyes began to get glassy with how much you wanted him.

You guessed that you liked being used—liked being his toy, his plaything. You guessed that you liked feeling desired, feeling like his doll. You glanced around your bedroom, back arching and loud, unashamed moans falling from your lips at the way Sunghoon fucked you. It felt as if every single doll was looking at you, watching you. Watched you succumb to your husband and watched as the cracks in your porcelain body began to crumble. Watched how you loved every second of it. How wet it made you to the point that Sunghoon was slipping in and out of you with ease and how the vulgar gushing sounds bounced off the walls.

Sunghoon’s pace slowed and he watched how his cock slowly disappeared into you before he slowly pulled it back out and examined how it dripped with your arousal. A soft chuckle left his parted lips as he did it over and over. You clawed at his arm still holding yours above your head, a loud whine came from the bottom of your throat and your body shifted in any way that it could to feel him deeper, to have his cock drag against your walls faster.

He replaced his wet thumb with his mouth, completely silencing your moans and whines. Sunghoon’s mouth worked slowly against yours once again, soft groans vibrating against your lips as he kissed you.

“You feel so good,” Sunghoon whined, barely able to get his words out before his lips were back on yours. He let out another moan, his shallow strokes growing quicker. “Taking everything I give you so well, my love. It’s like your body was made for mine.” Sunghoon finally let go of your arms, giving your body some space as his lips traveled down to your chest. He left wet kisses all over it, teasingly kissing around your perked nipples while you dragged your hands through his hair and pulled at the tips of the strands. Everytime his lips touched your skin it felt like white-hot coals were being placed on you where they touched. Sunghoon looked up at you over the rim of his glasses, lips pressed to your skin with a hint of a smile. “Do you feel good, darling?”

Sunghoon’s hips picked up speed, just barely, but enough to make your head spin wildly. His pace was agonizing and you were sure your frustration showed in how you tugged harder at his hair and pulled his head back and the way your hips pathetically raised to meet his. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and he let out a laugh. “Please,” you begged him, your eyes filled with unfallen tears, “please.”

He sat up, lips brushing against your skin one last time before he pulled away. Sunghoon pushed down on your hips with his hands to stop them from moving, his own still continuing at that agonizing pace. “Please, what?” he asked, head tilted to the side as he watched you squirm beneath him and claw at the bedsheets. “What are you begging me to do to you?”

You whined when his hands moved up to your waist and sent tingles throughout your body. Through your blurry, tear-filled eyes you could see his smile. Pitiful moans escaped your mouth and your chest rose and fell so heavily you would’ve thought you weren’t breathing at all—instead trying to gasp in gulps of breath. “Please,” you begged again. Sunghoon inhaled sharply at the way you clenched down on him, at how your whiny moans filled his ears and the way the corners of your eyes flooded with tears. He halted his movements and pulled out of you completely.

“No, no, no!” you cried and leaned up to reach for him. He pushed you back down to the bed gently. Sunghoon’s own breathing picked up as his wet cock hovered over you. He took one of your hands in his and guided it towards it. “I’ll continue once you can tell me—” his breath hitched once your hand wrapped around his thick length “—what you want.” Sunghoon guided your hand up and down his cock slowly, his hand tightening on top of yours so you squeezed him more. His breath shuddered as he watched your hand work, his stomach tightening every time your hand squeezed his mushroom tip. He moaned again at how easily your hand slipped over him from your arousal, and his moans grew louder when he’d move his hips to force your hand back down his length again and again.

“Tell me…” he breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed, once you still didn’t give him an answer. Sunghoon’s hands laid flat against the back of your thighs—right next to where you needed him the most.

“I… I-I want you…” you stuttered out, voice small. Sunghoon hummed in question, bringing his thumb to your clit. He rubbed circles into it at the same speed he moved his hips. You gasped, back involuntarily arching off the bed. Your hand paused mid-stroke of his cock before his hips rutting against it stirred you back into action. “Closer…” Sunghoon says through a grunt, “but, I’m going to need more than that from you, my love. Don’t you want to be good for me and do what I asked?”

A soft whine left his lips when you squeezed a little too much at the base of his cock. “I want to hear those pretty moans of yours as I fuck you with my cock… see your pretty face as you cum around it. Won’t you give that to me? Do you really want to settle for my fingers tonight, darling?” Sunghoon continued.

How could you tell him what you really wanted? Explain the deepest desire that you had right now? He told you about his inner battle with how much his love for you consumes him. He told you the things that it made him want to do. You wanted him to let go and do it. You wanted him to wipe you clean so you watched it all—saw it all. Enough with holding back—like he tried to do every single night without fail. It was no use when you both knew what was coming. You wanted him to lose control. You wanted that swirling darkness in his eyes to take over. You wanted him to do what he said he wanted to do if you didn’t feel the same way he felt about you. How do you express that to him?

“Do it…” you say, your words coming out strained. A sweet moan left your mouth and you looked him dead in the eyes as the tears finally slid down your hot cheeks. “I w-want you… to do it.” Your voice was just above a whisper, loud enough that only his ears could hear your words despite being the only two people in the entire house. You squeezed down onto his thick cock more as your wrist worked harder. The hand he wasn’t using to rub circles into your puffy clit grabbed your thigh tighter, his fingers surely leaving indents into the plush skin. Sunghoon’s head hung lowly as he tore his gaze away from yours and went back to watching your hand.

Sunghoon plunged two fingers deep inside your dripping entrance and you felt like you could finally feel the oxygen reach your lungs. He pushed them in and out of you, his gaze flicking over to his movements instead of yours to relish in the way his fingers came back out more and more wet. As his fingers curled inside you, causing breathy moans to leave your willing lips, you watched the way his stomach tensed and his hips faltered. Without saying a word, you could tell what was running through his mind right now. You could see his eyes grow more and more darker, fill up more and more with desire. Sunghoon finally looked back up at you, his wire-framed glasses low on his nose bridge. “Do what?” he asks, his voice just as quiet as yours was.

You didn’t have to say anything else. Sunghoon’s hips froze and his stomach tightened even more as a pretty moan ripped straight through him. His eyes fluttered shut, his fingering waned and you lifted your hips to chase his hand. Sunghoon’s warm cum shot all over your stomach and splattered up to your breasts in thick spurts. He let out another moan, this one dragging out from deep within him as his body finally relaxed. You helped him through it all—hand never stopping as he rode out his high and marked more of your stomach with his cum until you were painted a creamy white and he was completely empty.

His eyes blinked open and he looked down at how messy you were. Something in his demeanor shifted as his eyes grazed over you and you couldn’t tell what had changed until he looked at you. You inhaled sharply at his stare, your breathing picking up. His own chest still heaved from his recent release. Sunghoon took his wet fingers out from your cunt, taking a moment to drag them through your folds to spread your arousal even more, all while his eyes never left yours. Gone were the barriers that held him back, that darkness took him over full force.

Meek whimpers escaped your lips and you dug your nails into the bedsheet beneath you. “You like being my doll, don’t you?” Sunghoon asks. His voice was almost flat, and he was still speaking in that hushed tone. His expression was decidedly blank except for the subtle way his brows drew together. “Don’t you?” he asked a little louder when you didn’t answer him. His hands squeezed the back of your thighs and his fingers dug into the soft skin there. You timidly nodded, not daring to look away.

His hands relaxed and his thumbs brushed over where his fingers dug into you comfortingly, his eyes finally leaving yours. Sunghoon grabbed his cock and rubbed his flushed tip in between your folds, the wet sounds it made piercing the silent bedroom. “You know,” he starts, his voice no longer so low, “you really are truly flawless, doll. My muse…”

Sunghoon is already slipping back inside you before you can process the way his thick cock completely stretches you open. You cry out as more unshed tears fall from your eyes. He continues, “It angers me how much I can’t capture you fully. How none of these dolls can compare to the real thing—the real you. It makes me… so angry…”

He’s pulling back his hips as he speaks, the tip of his cock just barely leaving your pussy, before he roughly thrusts his cock back inside of you. Another loud moan emits from you and your vision blurs from more tears as your face gets hot. You could barely hear Sunghoon’s wry laugh over the sudden ringing in your ears.

Sunghoon’s pace is brutal, and you’re suddenly regretting whining so much about how slow he was once going. It gave you whiplash, how fast he fucked into you, and the only thing you could do to keep yourself grounded is tightly wrap your hands around his wrists at your hips. Your arms smeared and got sticky with his cum but you didn’t care. With each thrust, your body shook and pushed you further into the mattress. With your iron-clad grip on Sunghoon’s wrists, your tits pushed together and bounced in accordance with his hips against yours. Sunghoon was fucking you like he wanted to break you in half.

“S-Slo—” you tried to speak but was cut off by the waves of sudden pleasure hitting you one after the other. Sunghoon just shushed you, his hands pulling your hips towards his so you’d feel him deeper. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you couldn’t think about anything other than the way he was making you feel so, so good. You wanted to feel this way forever. Wanted him to stay lost so you never escaped this feeling of immense pleasure. Wanted him to use you to take out his anger at himself—at you—like you meant absolutely nothing, just a doll for him to handle and put back in its place.

You adore it, the way he makes you feel.

Such nasty sounds fill the air, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care about it. If anything, it turned you on more just how loud and demanding to be heard it was. With how much the sounds of the sex the two of you were having penetrated your ears, you would’ve thought that you’d be getting multiple noise complaints at any moment. You both definitely weren’t trying to be quiet in the slightest.

Between your moans, you heard Sunghoon speak. “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” His voice was almost scarily plain, like he thought this over time and time again before. You blinked away tears and finally got a clear view of him and the way he stared down at you with a hint of a smile, head tilted as he watched you crack and begin to fall into yourself. “Forever my perfect little doll, to bend—” he pushed your knees closer to your chest so you were practically folded in half “—and to break—” he roughly thrusted into you once more, his hint of a smile growing into a smirk as you clenched down on him “—and to put back together and play with as I please.”

“Sunghoon,” you sobbed as your stomach tightened and you started to shake. You didn’t get the chance to get another word out before you were violently orgasming, your cum pouring out of you and leaving a white ring around the base of Sunghoon’s cock as he roughly fucked it back into you. Wet, gushing sounds came from his cock plowing into your pussy and your cum poured out from around him and down the curve of your ass. You could scream at the sudden overstimulation.

“That’s my girl,” Sunghoon says as he watched you shatter. He used your hands still limply wrapped around his wrists to pull you up off the bed and halfway into his lap, his cock still buried within you. One of his hands supported your back and the other came to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Pretty dolls don’t cry.”

Sunghoon brought your hands to his shoulders and you held tightly onto the soft fabric of his shirt. His own hands dragged down the expanse of your stomach and he wrapped one of his arms around your back. Sunghoon lowered his head so he could look you in your eyes, his free hand lifting your chin to raise your head more. “I love you,” he murmured, pausing a beat to make sure you heard him, before roughly moving his lips against yours and cutting off one of your watery whines.

Your hands moved from Sunghoon’s shoulders to wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you. You deepened the kiss, letting Sunghoon open your mouth so his tongue could slip in and dance with yours. You’d give anything to keep his lips on yours forever.

Sunghoon began to thrust into you again, his hips moving slow at first before they rapidly picked up pace. You moaned against his lips, your eyes squeezing shut. You felt Sunghoon’s lips pull into a smile, “I love you so much.” He said it like it was a confession.

Head falling into the crook of his neck, you cling to him tighter with your last remaining strength and whimper into his warm skin. Your body shook all over until it felt like you might explode. It felt like Sunghoon kept repeatedly turning and turning the winding key in your back, going way beyond the motor’s limitations. It made you nervous for when he would let go and you would burst into action.

His deep moans and grunts rang in your ear and his arm around your back tightened. With his other hand, he pulled you back so he could look at you. Your face was tear-streaked, splotchy with drying tears and you tried to not cry even more. Your brows were knitted together from the overstimulation and whimpers fell from your lips. Sunghoon’s cum stuck to your stomach and your forearms and parts of his shirt, your own cum covered your pussy and Sunghoon’s cock. You were a mess.

Over and over, three words came from Sunghoon’s lips like a mantra as he filled you up with his cum to the brim and past that too. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I—”

Finally, silence rang through the air besides both of your heavy breathing. After another moment, your body finally stilled. The silence was so thick that you felt like you couldn’t move at all. Delicately, like he held the shards of you in his hands, Sunghoon laid you back down onto the bed. He pressed feather-light kisses to your jaw and cheeks before they finally landed on your lips.

You were so overwhelmed with emotions and feelings that you couldn’t feel anything at all. Your head was still foggy and your only penetrating thoughts swirled around him. Despite your eyes being wide open, your vision was cloudy.

Sunghoon kissed you again. “Stay here,” he says, pushing away from you. Your arms fell to your sides limply. He leaned back and pulled his cock out of you, eyes shining with adoration at the way yours and his mixed cum spilled out and dirtied the bedsheets. Sunghoon rubbed the tip of his cock through it a couple times, ignoring how you squirmed and whined. “Absolute perfection,” he said under his breath before standing to his feet.

You laid there on the bed, still spread open and a mess of cum, as your eyes went in and out of focus. When the clouds in your vision did part, all you saw were all of the dolls and how they stared at you. Sunghoon came back a couple moments later, his face coming into focus as the moonlight bounced off his glasses. He climbed over you and began cleaning you up.

You were barely aware of the way he meticulously made sure every nook and cranny was polished nor how he moved you to put new bedsheets on the bed. Your mind didn’t start to come back to you until he was pulling you over him and sitting you onto his cock. You came alive at his hands trailing the expanse of your body before landing on your hips. You moaned quietly, your gaze dripping to look down at him. The darkness in his eyes was not quite all the way gone.

Sunghoon brought you down to lay on his chest. “I could fuck you all night…” he trails and his voice vibrates throughout your whole body as he shallowly thrusts up into you, “and into the morning, too.” His hips stilled and instead his fingers caressed your back. “But then we wouldn’t have the full day together, would we, my love?”

You shook your head slightly and Sunghoon wrapped an arm possessively over you before pulling the blankets overtop of you both, his other arm caging you against him completely. As the moonlight filtered through the window of your bedroom, the two of you slowly fell asleep.

In the morning, you were awoken by kisses on your neck and your pussy fluttering around Sunghoon’s slow strokes. He lifted your leg into the air and you turned your body towards the warmth at your back, blinking away sleep. You hummed, a soft whine pulling from your throat as you looked at him.

His glasses were off, which let you know that it hadn’t been long since he woke up himself. Sunghoon leaned down to press his lips to yours, his cock still dragging at a snail’s pace against your walls. “Are you sore?” he asks, pulling away from your lips to kiss your shoulder.

You nodded. Him still inside you, lazily fucking into you felt good, but you couldn’t ignore the way he stretched you open and the deep soreness that came from it. “A little,” you say.

Sunghoon turned you onto your back so you laid beneath him and he pulled out of you completely. “I’m sorry, my love,” he says and his lips meet yours again. “Let me make you feel better.”

He kissed your lips once more and started trailing kisses down to your jaw and along the length of your neck. Sunghoon looked up at you through the strands of his black hair, kissing lower down your body to your breasts, his hands massaging them as he kissed at your perked nipples. Soft moans left you at his touch.

His kisses spread to your stomach, to your hips, and finally right above where you were already wet for him. He spread your legs open more. “I’ll be gentle,” Sunghoon says, placing a kiss to your clit before his tongue poked out to lap at your entrance.

Without Sunghoon around, the idea of perfection was bitter on your tongue—acidic in your chest. But, when your beloved husband was around, finally in your arms again, you understood why people strive for it. You love it.

If perfection was how Sunghoon saw you, then you’d forever be the most absolutely perfect person, woman, wife you could be.

Days pass and you are once again left alone in the vastness of your home. Sunghoon stood true to his word as best as he could, spending as much time with you when he didn’t have to work, but it still wasn’t enough. The house still felt empty, and the occasional early nights when he would come home didn’t help.

It felt like the early nights home he took came at a price. Most nights when he would finally walk through the front door, you were already asleep or close to it. He would wake you up with a kiss and a content sigh. It made your chest ache even more than it already did when he is away.

You were in the middle of washing the dishes, mind trailed off to someplace else as you idly let the sounds of the TV float around you. “The search for the six missing girls is still going strong. Police still has not found the perpetrator, but an interview earlier with the Chief says that they are very close to finding out who has taken these girls. Our anonymous tip hotline is still up and running for anyone who may have any valuable information on where these girls might be.”

The words brought you back to life, and you gasped quietly as you looked towards the tiny screen. You examined the bold numbers at the bottom of the screen. It reminded you of the secret room behind the dollhouse that you completely forgot about. You quickly finished the dishes, leaving them in the strainer to dry completely as you dried your wet hands.

Slowly, you took quiet steps towards the hallway where the dollhouse was displayed. You looked to the front door to ensure that it was still locked. Sunghoon could walk through it at any moment and you didn’t want him to know that you knew about his secret workshop before you had the chance to see what was inside.

You recalled the way the door to the room opened—the pushed opened small bookshelf that revealed the make-shift door. You tip-toed to the bookshelf, examining its sides and the books on it.

You didn’t really look at the books on the bookshelf besides your own cookbooks. Sunghoon’s doll making books were something you rarely touched, if at all. But, you took a hard look at those too, your fingers running over the spines. They all felt like books, the spines hard and sturdy, but something about them still felt off to you. You looked at Sunghoon’s books again, pulling each one out a little to take a peek at the covers.

In the middle of you pulling one of the books, you heard a quiet click and the bookshelf came loose from the wall. You took a step back, shock showing all over your face. Gently, you grabbed the side of the bookshelf and pulled.

The bookshelf creaked open and revealed an opening that you had to bend down a little to enter. When you stepped inside the surprisingly large room, your eyes did a sweep of what was inside. You froze, your stomach dropping as you stared at what was in front of you, absolutely horrified. You didn’t even really know what was in front of you… It looked like an amalgamation of various body parts, stitched and sewn into one. Its skin was weirdly shiny, almost like it was made of some kind of plastic or resin while still keeping its elasticity.

You disregarded the rest of the room, instead taking careful steps towards the strange creation in front of you. It didn’t look neither dead nor alive and that confused you even further—it barely looked human. Its eyes and lips were sewn shut and it was completely hairless. It was held up onto its feet by long strips of silk hanging from the ceiling that was tied around its naked body. Next to where it stood was a table with thick locks of hair tied with ribbons of your favorite color.

Maybe this was the final crack in your mind and it was crumbling completely, but it kind of looked like you too. Even the hair on the table matched yours perfectly. If you looked past all the stitches, the weird shiny skin, and the lack of hair, it almost seemed like you were looking in a mirror. It looked like an unfinished, life-sized doll of you. Your stomach turned in on itself.

The fear in you raised tenfold in you when it started to twitch. You took a couple steps back from it when it began to pull on its restraints a little. It seemed to start to panic and its shiny arms pulled at the restraints keeping it up even more as it tried to reach out to you. You jumped back more, fearful tears filling your eyes. Your mouth opened to speak, but no words would come out.

The uncanny creation tried to speak, though, before realizing that its mouth was sewn shut. When it began to frightfully hum—the sound off tune and terrifying—did your body start to feel heavy and limp. It pulled at its restraints with all the little strength it had as it reached out to you and began to hum wildly… it hummed Sunghoon’s melody, the one he hummed when he worked.

Realization hit you like a tsunami. Not only was you dear husband making dolls of you, but he was trying to make a real, life-sized human doll of you. And it seemed that every part of this surreal creation was taken from another until it resembled you as close as he could get it. Your mind flashed to those six missing girls—the six missing girls that all looked eerily similar to you. Despite having all the puzzle pieces right in front of you, your mind refused to see the whole picture.

You backed up further, the back of your thighs hitting the desk that was against the back wall near the make-shift door. You twisted towards it, chest heaving as you scanned the scattered papers and opened books. You picked up what looked to be a journal Sunghoon kept and read over the open page with trembling hands.

The entry remarked at how the experiment was working well and how none of the body parts were rejecting like they did before. He praises how the process was much smoother than last time, how the girls he chose were the perfect fit. The journal dropped from your hands.

Those girls going missing due to Sunghoon was no longer speculation. Your eyes snapped back to his “experiment.” It must be those poor girls, their bodies sewn into one to look like you. You still didn’t want to believe it.

Tears poured from your eyes as fear sunk its claws deep within you and forced its way down your throat and into your heart. Your entire world came crashing down around you and quiet sobs left your mouth as you fought against the idea that your husband wasn’t who he said he was—that he was a kidnapper, a killer.

You rushed forwards, your arms raised towards his creation before you wrapped them around yourself and remained a safe distance. “No!” you exclaimed as you rapidly shook your head. “No, this is all a misunderstanding—a mistake! Sunghoon wouldn’t do this… He isn’t that type of person!” You wiped at your eyes, almost believing your own words until you dropped your hands.

Dolls completely surrounded the peculiar creation—Sunghoon’s experiment. It was even more that the ones that surrounded you in the hallway when they were showing you the scene in the dollhouse. They all looked at you for a moment before slowly turning to look up at how the amalgamation of stolen girls thrashed towards you, still frantically humming.

The dollhouse.

It was a warning. Those scenes the dolls showed you… it was all a warning. This was what they were trying to tell you this entire time. This wasn’t just any ordinary experiment for Sunghoon, a dollmaker going completely mad in his craft—no. This experiment was for you. He was using these girls, tearing apart their bodies limb from limb and creating some freakish doll of them that was meant to be you. It was practice… He was doing all of this so he knew exactly what to do when he laid his tools down and cut into the real thing. You were next.

Sunghoon’s words rang in your ears and bounced around in your head: “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” You finally understood it now.

Suddenly, all thrashing ceased and the humming finally abruptly stopped. The only thing that filled the silence was your muffled sobs. “I’m sorry,” you cried, unsure if it even heard you. “I’m so sorry.”

You stumbled towards the opening of the room and barely missed hitting your head on the way out. You didn’t even wait for the bookshelf to click back into place before rushing through the hallway and to the kitchen. For once in your entire life, you hoped that Sunghoon had a long night at work.

Nearly falling into the kitchen counter, you shakily grabbed the landline on the wall. Those bold numbers of the anonymous tip hotline flashed behind your eyes and you rushed to put in the numbers, putting the ringing phone to your ear. “This is the anonymous tip hotline for the six missing girls. Please only share useful tips that could help a breakthrough in the case. Do you have any information to share?”

Your breathing came out heavy and you tried to force the oxygen to reach your lungs, inhaling sharply as you tried to find your words. “I… I-I think my husband kidnapped those girls…” you breathed in a whisper. The woman on the other end of the line started talking, but your focus was abruptly taken when you heard another, more familiar voice behind you.

“Something scare you, darling?” Sunghoon asks, his voice gentle and filled with worry. You couldn’t tell if he was being genuine.

You jumped, pressing further into the kitchen counter as you spun in place, the phone leaving your ear. Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table, his thick brows knitted together. You didn’t even hear him come back home. Despite the landline being away from your ear, you still heard the woman on the other end asking you questions, frantically asking if you were still there. You were completely frozen.

Sunghoon rose to his feet and the stove light illuminated him. You saw him differently now. No longer was he your loving husband, he was something else. Still, you hated the way your heart soared when you locked eyes on him. How your body relaxed, even in the slightest. You hated how you felt complete now that he was here and how you wanted to run into his arms.

He crossed the short distance to you, his arms coming to rest against the counter on both sides of you. You inhaled shakily now that you and Sunghoon were face to face. Without his eyes leaving yours, Sunghoon took the phone from your quivering hand and hung it back up on the wall. His arm returned to its position next to you, completely caging you within his arms.

Sunghoon leaned his forehead against yours. “I thought I told you that you had nothing to be afraid of, not when I’m here.” His voice was still gentle—soft—and it was lowered as he moved one of his arms to take one of your shaky hands in his. You wanted to pull away from him and wrap your arms around him simultaneously. You felt exhausted.

You voice shook, “Y-You kidnapped those girls, didn’t you? Turned them into… into…” Sunghoon drew back to look at you, his head falling to the side as his brows pushed together. His confused look made you start to question if you had been imagining everything—the dolls, the dollhouse, the hidden room, the experiment. “Into… what?” Sunghoon asks.

“...Into me!” you exclaimed, more tears running down your already wet cheeks as you choked out a sob. Sunghoon’s hand tightened around yours. “You killed them… and who knows how many others! Am I next? Are you going to kill me too?”

Sunghoon let go of your hand so he could cup your face with both of his hands, his thumbs wiping underneath your eyes to get rid of the fallen tears. “They aren’t dead!” he says. “And I swear to you that I’ll never hurt you, my love. You know that. Think of them as… reborn.”

You started to tremble in his arms and tried to shift away from him, but Sunghoon wouldn’t let you go anywhere. “Is that what you’re going to do to me? Was all of this—” you gestured around the room at all the dolls of you sitting pretty on the various shelves around the kitchen “—just practice for the real thing?” you spat out. You tried to move again, but Sunghoon’s hands dropped from your face to your upper arms to keep you in place.

“No!” Sunghoon started, his voice coated in disbelief that you would even ask him that as he shook his head. “No… can’t you see? This—” he used a finger to motion around the kitchen at the dolls “—is a reflection of how much I love you. My devotion to you. You, above anything else, above everything else. A peek inside my mind and how the only thing in there is you.”

“A-And that experiment of yours—the missing girls? Behind the wall?” you asked.

“That… is my dedication to you—m-my oath.” Sunghoon was completely desperate. He pleaded with you, his eyes wide and begging you to believe his words. His eyes were watery, like if you didn’t believe him he might cry as well, and he looked at you over the rim of his wire-framed glasses that slipped down his nose bridge.

You didn’t know what to believe. Didn’t know what to say. You just wanted to go upstairs with Sunghoon and lay in your bed and forget about everything that you’ve witnessed as he held you close to his chest. It was all too much, and your resolve was starting to crack and shatter. You wanted to smooth down your wrinkled dress and fix your messy hair, but Sunghoon didn’t let you move a single inch in fear that you would run from him. You couldn’t tell which one of you was more terrified.

His hands slid down from your upper arms and down to your hands, grasping them so tight that it started to hurt. “Come… Come with me…” he trailed, gulping thickly. You stared at him with wide, frightful eyes, suddenly unwilling to move, but Sunghoon desperately pleaded with you. He looked like he was seconds from getting down onto his knees. “Please,” he begged, pulling you into him, as his voice cracked. “You know I’d never do anything ever to hurt you.”

Sunghoon took a step back, hoping that you would follow after him, and you did. You let him guide you down the hallway all the way to the bookshelf and into the room behind it, his grip on your hands never once loosening. He led you in front of the uncanny image of you that he created. “I know how it looks,” Sunghoon says, his voice hushed. “But there’s no pain, no sorrow, nothing.”

It didn’t try to reach out to you like it did earlier and all the dolls that once surrounded it were gone. It didn’t hum that out-of-tune, terrifying version of the melody Sunghoon hummed when he worked either. It just hung limply from its silk restraints. “It just is,” Sunghoon continued. “And when it’s fully done, and completely polished, it’ll be flawless.” He delicately took your chin and guided your head to the side so you looked at him. Your body finally stopped fighting against itself and you relaxed in his grasp. “Like you are.”

Sunghoon leaned forward, hesitantly pausing to look at you again before bringing his lips to meet yours. He pulled you into him, his body wrapping around yours, and you timidly invited him in.

His lips felt so good against yours, and you knew that once you parted for air you’ll miss the feeling of them forever until he kissed you again. It felt right—it felt like home. The home where the two of you were always together and he held you like he was holding you now—like he was afraid that if he let go he would lose you. That if he didn’t hold you like a delicate porcelain cup you would chip and crack and shatter. And you would.

When Sunghoon’s lips moved against yours like they did in this moment, everything fell into place. All your worries slid off your back and for a brief minute, it was just the two of you in the whole wide world. Nothing existed but him, and his body enveloped in yours, and his touch that made you burn. And the flames danced so beautifully for him, didn’t they?

Just when you were about to pull away to quell the heaviness in your lungs, you felt a sudden sharp pain in your neck. You hissed, breaking away from Sunghoon’s lips just barely. Sunghoon chased your lips, holding the back of your head and pulling you closer against his body as he kissed you harder.

You whimpered against his lips, your nails digging into his arms as you tried to free yourself from his vice-like grip. It was no use, Sunghoon was never going to let you go. You felt your body grow heavy in his arms and he had to hold you up. Your vision began to spot black and fray around the edges, and your ears rang terribly. Just before you passed out completely, and over the ringing of your ears, you heard Sunghoon’s muffled voice as he kissed your neck where the pain stemmed.

“I love you. I love you so much that it hurts, I truly do.”

You fade in and out of consciousness as time passes around you. Sometimes you see blurred glimpses of Sunghoon, sometimes it's just an array of colors until you black out again.

You aren’t sure how long it’s been when your eyes finally do open and you remain conscious for good. Blinking away the blurriness in your vision, you examine how you're laying on the couch in your living room. Your entire body aches and it feels stiff. Your head is pounding and you almost close your eyes again to ease the pain you feel. You notice how you’re in different clothes and there’s a blanket over top of you. Too late do you notice the figure in your peripheral, and your eyes shift to look at them.

Sunghoon hovers over you, his expression a chaotic mix of hopeful, relief, and worry as he stares down at you. He’s wearing different clothes too, and his hair is a complete mess, like he’s been running his hands through it, and his glasses almost slide completely off his face. “Are you here, my love?” Sunghoon asks quietly. His voice sounds slightly hoarse.

You give him a confused look, pushing the blanket off of you and crying out from the pain you feel as you try and sit up. Sunghoon rushes to your aid, tossing the blanket to the side without a single thought, and helps ease you to your feet. Your gaze drops to your legs as he helps you stand and you notice how weird they look—shiny. There’s slight indented lines at your knees, too. You look at your arms and they’re the same.

You look doll-like.

Once you’re steadily on your feet, Sunghoon moves a step back to take you all in. You notice how done up you are and when you carefully raise a stiff and sore arm to your hair you feel how it’s styled. Your gaze lands on Sunghoon’s face, his eyes meeting yours.

His eyes are shining—completely full of love and pride. You’ve only seen him look like this when he first came to you with one of the dolls he made that looked the most like you, and when the two of you are in bed and his fingers are gently caressing your skin as he admires you. But, it was even more intense than in those scenarios. Confusion clouds you and you wait for Sunghoon to say something, and he does. One singular word.

“Perfect.”

[ kipo’s note . . . ] would it be wrong to say how i absolutely #needthat #desperately… like hehe yes i’ll be your perfect doll for you forever and ever and ever (๑´ω`๑)

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

🏷️﹙ 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @hyukascampfire @xylatox @ghstzzn @izzyy-stuff @sunoosgfv @jihyokat @whosserina @jellymochii @innocygnet @sumsumtingz @riribelle @yeoningz @minaateez @beombunni @jiryunn @lvrs-street2mmorrow @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @fancypeacepersona @deobitifull @tinycatharsis @strawberryshoujosundae

© jjunbug - all rights reserved. do not repost on any social media or sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[truelovepolinator]

State of the Ship Address: Where we stand after the Hard Launch

Well, this has certainly been an interesting week, hasn’t it?

Last Saturday, I was the happiest of shippers, sharing why I’m so sure it’s Luke. By Wednesday, I was sharing my thoughts on why Nicola’s “just a friend” comment was nothing to worry about. Yes, truly, Nicola’s comment was a hit to the ship. A very palpable hit. Yet, we sailed on. Then on Thursday, well, the ship very nearly sunk with Luke’s Hugo Boss “hard launch” of Antonia. Nearly.

There’s one thing I’ll say I know for sure. Nicola knew she was getting that question about fans wanting her to marry Luke and she had her answer prepared. I have no doubt about that. In all likelihood, her people asked him to ask that question. Otherwise, it’s out of the box for that kind of industry/awards promotion interview. It’s not an interview for the fans, it’s for the voters. She WANTED to dispel the idea that she and Luke might have fallen in love on set because that perception would hurt her chances at the SAG Awards.

There’s no question that Nic and Luke decided together that the time had come to send an armed nuclear torpedo into the ship for once and for all. And so, they did. Indeed, it’s only thanks to our wits, grit, and some very skillful maneuvering that we managed to keep the ship from sinking to the bottom of the ocean. We may be taking on water, but we’re bailing it faster, and we’re still afloat, if only just.

This does not, however, mean that I’m ignoring what they’ve said this week. On the contrary, I’m paying very, very close attention. I’m paying attention not only to their words (or in Luke’s case, the story he’s telling with that hard launch), but also to the subtext, the backstory, the character histories, and the outtakes. I’m paying close attention both to what they’ve told us and to what they haven’t.

I’m thinking about every bit of it. I am, by nature, very analytical. In the Lukola intelligence community, I’d say I’m more of an analyst than a detective. I don’t go out there gathering information (tracking every tag, monitoring friends, family, adjacents, finding old, hidden content, etc.). I don’t even know how to get metadata from Instagram. I’d be grateful if someone could tell me.

But when the detectives bring me evidence, I analyze the hell out of it. There are great detectives out there, but that’s not my skillset. I’m great at sitting at my desk and studying the evidence presented to identify patterns, interpret clues, and assemble those clues into a watertight case.

I thought that’s what I had, a watertight case. And you need your case to be watertight when you’re sailing these rough seas, right?

Then this week, Nicola and Luke decided to tell me my case had fallen apart, and to be honest, I’m not sure how I feel. I’m not as devastated as I thought I might be. I think that’s because I’m still not sure I believe them. They’ve both told us the same thing this week, that they are absolutely, positively not together. They’ve told us in no uncertain terms. And I always thought I would believe them if that time came. And yet, there’s something just a little too suspicious and convenient about the timing for me to trust it entirely. It doesn’t quite pass the smell test.

To be clear, I’m not saying I definitely don’t believe them. I think it’s very possible they’ve told us the truth this week and we simply have to live with it. We have to shift our ship back to “endgame” mode, and out of “happening now” mode.

In some ways, this would be a relief. If I actually accepted that they are not together at all at this point, I could begin to let them go. If I don’t see their launch coming, why hang around? The wait for endgame could be eons. I love them together, but I could do a hell of a lot of other things with my time in the meantime. Why do I need to follow and discuss their every move if it’s not headed to the only result I care about? I could check out completely and let them do their thing.

I’ll watch Bridgerton, and their other work when it looks interesting, and otherwise peace out. I don’t have to be “a fan” to enjoy their work. I have loads of favorite actors whose work I love, and I follow very few of them on socials. I could simply shift NicLuke into that category and move on.

I don’t actually have to care so much about them. All this parasocial bs takes a lot of time and energy, and while that investment of time and energy is good for them because we keep them in the public discourse, it’s not necessarily the highest, best use of our time for ourselves, is it? I could just let it go. We could all just let it go. Wouldn’t that be a relief?

The problem is that I do care about them. They got us hooked during that World Tour and now we’re invested. I’m invested. I’ve put a lot into them and I’d like a return on my investment, thanks. I want to see them happy. Together. I want to see them happy together. Many of us do. So, what if we don’t get that?

Well, I’ll come back to that question. But right now, I’m more interested in the question of WHY. Why did they decide now was the time to torpedo the ship? After all these months of weird, yet skillful combination of utter silence and semi-explicit hints and breadcrumbs. Why now, after a year of active shipping, seven full months after the WT ended, long after Bridgerton 3-month ratings were locked, why spontaneously this week? And why did they do it in such a coordinated way? The SAG nomination, yes, but is there more to it?

I have more theories and variations on theories than I can count. But here are the four key interpretations I want to explore.

It’s exactly what I said this week with Nicola’s interview and my quick post on Thursday. They are still together, with major life changes ahead, and Nicola is up for a SAG. They need more privacy than ever AND Nicola needs to distance herself from the “they fell in love on-set” narrative so that she can be taken seriously as the terrific actor she is, who acted her ass off in Season 3. She doesn’t want to be seen as someone who was only that good because she was “really falling in love.”

They’re genuinely not together, Luke is actually with Antonia (whether on-and-off or all along) and they decided to shut down the shipping now purely because it was impacting Nic’s SAG nomination (see 1 for details). Or maybe L also decided it was time to launch to take the invasive scrutiny off his family.

They’re not together, L is with A, and Nic knew he was going to take her to the HB event, so she prepared fans and pre-empted any “poor, rejected Nicola” perception by saying what she did during her interview.

They were together, and now it’s over (not mutually exclusive with 2 or 3).

You’ll notice none of these theories turn on Nicola’s hypothetical romantic relationship with Jake. This is largely because I have always said that simply isn’t a romantic relationship. And regardless, it’s not relevant to this week’s developments as the state of her relationship with Jake is unchanged from the past few months. That’s not a new factor in this week’s decision.

Obviously, number 1 above is my preferred explanation. It still continues to be the only explanation that makes sense of absolutely everything we’ve seen. INCLUDING Nicola’s words in that interview, and even Luke taking A to that event if you follow the logic of protecting themselves at a critical time both personally and professionally. It’s easy to forget all the extensive evidence pointing to this, but a review of my recent posts will refresh you. There is much to this saga that literally only makes sense if Lukola is real and the other apparent relationships are PR fakery/fuckery to keep our eyes off the truth.

However, this week, they have actively told us that is not the case. So, we owe it to ourselves to be emotionally and intellectually honest and to be open to the other possibilities as well.

Okay, so let’s talk about options 2 and 3. Both posit that Luke and Antonia are really together. Or at least casually dating. It is certainly possible that Luke simply wanted or needed a date to this event and Antonia is a casual date. Certainly, their body language is not particularly close or affectionate in most of the photos or videos. And A clearly does not calm Luke’s anxiety and event nerves like Nic always could and did. And they didn’t seem to hold hands naturally, nor did their arms around each other seem particularly close or natural in most of the photos and videos we saw. And yet, they did walk and pose arm-in-arm as a couple. No arguments there.

It has been widely noted that the Daily Mail story featuring Luke attending this event with his “girlfriend Antonia” was published mere minutes after the first event photos were published. And the story talked way more about A and her vague resume/background than about Luke. For all the world, it sure looks like this appearance was designed to give Ant a PR boost with a story pre-planted and ready to roll. But that doesn’t necessarily mean they aren’t together.

There is one video recorded inside that shows them in a different light. They seem to be enjoying themselves together, laughing, smiling, and talking close. However, there was loud music, it seems, so all talking needed to be close. We saw this when Luke talked to David Beckham as well. David was leaning in and Luke was talking directly in his ear, so clearly, volume was an issue. But he did have his hand on her back and she even copped a feel of his celebrated lukey newts butt. Yes, that video looked very couply indeed. Again, no arguments.

Did I like it? Of course not. Obviously, I hated it. I loathed it even. Do I wish the whole evening would crawl away and sink itself into the bottom of the ocean in lieu of our very leaky ship? Yes. But that video still exists, as does the other photographic and videographic evidence.  So, it’s irrefutable, right?

Almost. There is one thing that rankles a bit in that video. And indeed, about all the Luke & A stuff that came out so quickly. Literally, it all dropped faster than even the Beckham stuff, and Beckham was the host of this event. Why did it all hit so fast? Okay, sure, we already established it was at least partly planned PR for A. But why was that video so exclusively focused on the two of them specifically? What was the videographer doing shooting them from behind, ostensibly “in secret and candid,” for so long? Why so much footage (edited from pieces, therefore taken over time) of the two of them specifically, including that saucy, little butt grab?

If indeed this evening were intended to launch A with the explicit intentions of 1) blowing up the ship and 2) promoting A as the official girlfriend, then it’s not hard to imagine Luke’s PR handler/escort for the evening whispering a little encouragement in his ear. Something like, “It’s not really playing yet, you need to give it more. You two need to get cozy, amp it up, and we’ll get it on video.” Of course, it’s also entirely possible that this “canoodling inside” video was always planned as the final blow to seal the deal after the red carpet content hit.

And, to be fair, it’s also possible that they simply relaxed once they got inside and started having fun. If theirs is a real relationship, whether long-term, serious or a casual dating one, then that would make sense. But why were they so tense on the red carpet to begin with if they’re so close? Why did they look so uncomfortable? Either way, it seems someone had a very clear intention to capture “proof” of the relationship.

Now let’s shift gears and talk about Nicola briefly. Let’s start with this. Nicola is a terrific, gifted, hard-working actor. She deserves all the accolades. She’s worked hard to achieve the success she’s now enjoying and she sure as hell deserves her SAG Award nomination for her beautiful, delicate performance that was by turns moving, heartbreaking, heartwarming, and hilarious. She’s the real deal. And she’s unbelievably, ridiculously beautiful. To my eyes, many times more beautiful and sexier than the other woman who appears in this saga, for what it’s worth. That’s perhaps beside the point, but I wanted to throw it in anyway because what can I say? I’m feeling a little petty and in the mood to spit truths.

She’s also a woman with a right to privacy. And a woman with a career to maintain and grow. And an award nominee who’s campaigning for a win, knowing even if she doesn’t win, the nomination will open doors for her as long as she is taken seriously. And maybe, just maybe, a woman with big life changes coming up fast. I fully support her in doing what she needs to take care of herself and those she loves. And knowing what I know, having seen what I’ve seen, believing what I believe about her, I still believe she would absolutely do what she needs to do in this critical moment.

So, I’m just going to be honest and say I simply don’t know what to think at this point. I still believe number 1 above makes the most sense, both logically and emotionally. But… but… sigh.

There’s also another very real possibility, which is that Lukola has indeed been just as real as we all believe – and now, sadly, it’s over. I actually believe this could be a very real possibility, though this possibility breaks my heart most of all. But I think it’s distinctly possible that they tried and it just didn’t work out for any of the millions of reasons couples don’t make it all the time. Plus, as I’ve written about before, all the reasons they have extra challenges because of their lives and jobs. So maybe the shipping was sweet to them while the relationship lasted, but is painful now that it’s over.

I wish this didn’t feel so valid as a possibility, but it does. And this, too, would make sense of just about everything, unlike the alternate versions where the adjacents (or at least one of them) have been real partners all along. But who knows? As ever, none of us (and none of the Jakolas) knows them, so none of us will ever know anything for sure. Unless they one day decide to come clean.

I’m a big fan of the show Castle. Castle and Beckett, or “Caskett,” is one of a small handful of fictional couples that I have shipped with devotion. I LOVED Caskett and could not wait until they finally got together. The delicious tension, the longing, the near misses, the banter, the micro expressions that broke your heart. They were perfect together. Unfortunately, in reality, they grew to hate each other by the end, but onscreen, they were fire. I will never not love Caskett.

Lukola is my one and only real-world ship, and I will never not love them. Unless they really blow it with too much BTS fuckery. I feel as if they are continually jerking me around and playing games, and I’ve been A-OK with that as long as I knew where it was headed. I was willing to ride the waves of the choppy seas because I knew where the ship was sailing and I loved the destination. I didn’t begrudge them hiding behind PR fakery (or fuckery) because I had faith it was in the best interest of their careers, privacy, and more recently (once I settled into my personal opinion regarding the delicate matter), their family.

That may yet be the case. And if it is, I am 100% there for it.

But if it’s not, if Antonia ends up being a real relationship, that’s going to be very, very hard for me to accept. I’ll do my best to stay the course for Luke as an actor, but the side I see of him as someone dating her is not the same good guy he sold us on the tour. Not the same sweet Colin-alike that the cast has told us he is. Not the same perfect man Nic has told us he is. Because the choice to be with her – based on what I know of her (as well as her youth) — reflects poorly on him, in my opinion. I’m not sure about his “treatment” of her because there’s so much we don’t see and a lot of assumptions are made on that front. But simply based on who she has shown herself to be through her posts and the jobs she’s taken, I can’t respect the choice. I would accept him with many people who aren’t Nicola, but not her.

And my feelings about Nicola would also be dented because she’s posted so many of the crumbs that have (intentionally) kept me hanging on. And if, by some strange twist, she is dating Jake, well… I have a higher opinion of Jake than Antonia. I have no real issue with Jake. From what little I’ve seen of him speaking, he seems like a good kid, earnest about his work, maybe even sweet. But like Antonia, he’s so young. Setting aside aside all the other reasons I don’t believe they’re dating, he’s still 13-14 years younger than her, and just starting out while she’s sailing the heights. I have to be honest and say that the age difference and the power differential do make me uncomfortable.

Her relationships are still not my business. Nor are Luke’s. But as a consumer of media, I do get to have feelings about the people I stan and where I choose to devote my energies. As I said, Lukola has been my one and only ship. I’ve loved them individually as well, but if I’ve been played for a prolonged time, if they’ve been stringing me along with a fake ship, how can that not sour me on them as individuals?

So, yes, if these particular, adjacent relationships are real, my respect for each of them will take a hit. But they can date other people. I’ll get over it. I’ll be disappointed. I’ll think they’ve missed out because they clearly have something truly unique and special, maybe more unique than either of them realizes yet. I still believe they’ve gotten together at some point, but if they’ve now moved on, I’ll sigh and move on as well. And hope that one day, they find their way back to each other where they belong. That’s what endgame means, after all.

However, I will say again that I am not yet entirely convinced that the adjacents are anything more than I’ve long thought they were, decoys and distractions. Or that these latest hits to the ship (the mom comment, Nicola’s interview, and the “hard launch”) are anything more than ramped up efforts to camouflage the truth at a crucial time.

But the one thing that is crystal clear is that they want us to back the fuck off. Whether it’s out of a time-sensitive need for greater professional separation for career reasons (awards consideration chief among them) and greater privacy for family reasons… or because it’s actually true that they are not together at this time… either way, they’ve clearly decided to shut down the shipping this past week.

And this brings me back to Castle. If you know Castle, then you know there was a long-running throughline story about who murdered Kate’s (aka Beckett’s) mother. For years, Kate was obsessed with finding who was responsible and what happened, and more than once, that fierce dedication led her to go too far on the job. She’d stay on cases when she had a clear conflict, she’d hide things from her superiors, she’d go rushing into danger in a ruthless pursuit of the truth. Needless to say, this behavior eventually led to a suspension even though she was the best detective in the precinct. But instead of accepting the suspension, Kate tossed down her badge and quit, because OBVIOUSLY, she was going to go right on investigating privately.

So, am I going to pull a Kate Beckett and charge forward, despite every warning, to investigate every lead until I get the truth? No matter what it costs to me or those I love (namely, Lukola)? Or will I sadly accept my suspension, hang my head, and take some time at home to catch up on my Netflix until the clock runs out? Hmm… Maybe, a little of both?

Here’s what I’m going to do. Keep watching. Keep collecting information, analyzing, and seeing how I think the picture most clearly takes shape. And I will keep sharing my thoughts with all of you.

But since they want us to back off, I will slow roll those observations. For my part (NPC that I am), I will politely take a step back and give them the time that I believe they need for certain very specific reasons. If they need folks like me to back off, then I will. At least for now. And I’ll see what the next couple of months bring.

At some point down the line, depending on how things shake out, I may feel comfortable going full force again with my thoughts and opinions. But right now, it’s my belief that there are things important enough that I’m willing to take a step back to support them, because my intention has only ever been to share my thoughts and bolster the spirits of my fellow shippers. Never to harm Lukola.

In the meantime, I won’t disappear entirely. I may blog a little less, and maybe shift a bit to lovely Polin. Or maybe I’ll end up blogging more with short, fun stuff in lieu of the analysis. Who knows? Got to keep busy somehow, at least unless or until I decide to step off the ship entirely.

Actually, now that I think about it, it may be time to rewatch Castle. At least I know Caskett will never let me down.

[dalliancekay]

I have to go

So I was thinking this weekend about Good Omens (surprise surprise). And why I relate so much more to Aziraphale than to Crowley even if on paper, I'd have sworn Crowley is a lot more relatable.

And then I had a nightmare about my family and something clicked. Now look, my family is not awful. I mean not so awful anymore. My bully of a grandma died when I was 19 (20?) and my youngest brother was 9 and my alcoholic, often violent father left us and was never found until police came to confirm the body in a mortuary was his 6 years later. The rest of my family is a bit religious, a bit homophobic, full of body-shamers but nothing you would be particularly surprised by.

But anyway, I left them. I cannot vouch for how conscious a decision it was, back when I was fresh out of high school and announced I will go abroad for 6 months or a year (reader, it's been quite a bit longer than that). But I left.

And yep, I am made to feel guilty (and I do feel a bit guilty sometimes) about it when I visit once a year and I am asked to stay and consider my values and goals in life etc. SO ANYWAY

I guess I just feel like I relate to Aziraphale who was always aware that he was different, that he saw things differently, that he knew what was happening was not right and had no power to change it.

And he got the opportunity to leave and he did. Overtime, in many more ways than one.

And yet, when F15 happened, he was the one again who had to leave, to make a decision, to do something; a very hard decision but he had to go. And not to a place he loved. Rather quite the opposite. Somewhere he despised but had to choose over something worse (perhaps a specific threat, perhaps simply more uncertainty). Something that would hurt the only being he truly loves.

Angel!Crowley is an innocent with a lot questions when we see him in Before the Beginning. We don't know what happened during his Fall, we don't know how much he has changed by then, but we know he is changed now.

He was cast out, thrown out by the people who were supposed to love him, who were supposed to forgive. And they did not.

And I understand how many people relate to that. Coming out for who you are and being told you are wrong, bad, that you have to go go... and being thrown out.

And then the being you desperately love has to go too.

I think Crowley understands though. But I also understand how it hurts him.

And above all, I think Aziraphale is incredibly brave for making the decision to return and try to make a difference. Even if the difference was to be to make one more lonely angel like Muriel smile with his stories, I think he would have tried. But he will achieve a LOT more. And Crowley (and their love) will be indispensable to him when he does.

[atwhughesversion]

some thoughts from me on the miller trade and how much the millsy/petey dynamic should be blamed —

basically, i’ve already seen plenty of fans (not on this app, but on the Bad One) and media alike saying that petey and miller bear complete blame for how things unfolded, and that their selfish inability to work alongside each other is what cost the team. imo it’s much more complex than that. we don’t have anywhere close to the full story, but here are some things we do know:

petey and miller’s relationship has always been complex — it’s not a development unique to this season — and yet they coexisted for nearly 6 seasons without things imploding.

miller was dealing with something personal this season. he didn’t take the leave of absence just for fun, and missing 10 games wouldn’t have magically fixed it. it’s none of our business, but it was evident that some of his on-ice struggles probably had off-ice factors contributing.

petey’s struggles go back to last season when he was dealing with knee tendinitis (which can take a year or more — notice how it’s been about a year — to begin to truly recover from). he’s had periods this season where he’s put up points, and he’s been putting in a lot of effort regardless of what’s happening offensively as we can see from his defensive play. but it’s not like he started fighting with miller in november and that’s what caused his production to falter.

as heard from a variety of local/national media, it sounds like while miller didn’t necessarily want to stop being a canuck, he was also ready to move on. that doesn’t happen without some level of willingness to start over from the player.

to me, unless something significant and unforgivable happened between them this season that we don’t know about (which i suppose is possible, but like…lmao), i don’t see this as a situation where the pre-existing issues within their relationship just suddenly became impossible for them to reconcile. i believe that there has been tension between them, probably exacerbated by the team’s frustrating season, their individual struggles, and management’s inability to let things settle down. but i think it’s absurd to suggest that a dynamic that they’ve been played alongside for 5.5 seasons — that’s miller’s entire tenure with the canucks, and nearly petey’s entire nhl career — just all of a sudden became unworkable.

maybe things really were that bad between them, but i think what more likely happened is a complex amalgamation of things that neither player should bear the primary blame for. i’m sure canucks’ management would love for this saga to be remembered as “we tried to let them be adults, but they just refused to work together :( sorry to the fans that these players let them down,” but they are much more at fault for how this whole season has played out.

at the end of the day, there’s a lot we don’t know. what we do know is that all good things do come to and end, but that doesn’t mean that the team, players, and fans won’t remember what they gained.

[sanjoongie]

𝒟𝒶𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒~ 𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓅𝒾𝑒

The Menu

🩶Pairing: Bunny! Hybrid! Park Seonghwa x Space Transport Pilot! Reader (f)

🩶Au: scifi au, space au, hybrid au

🩶Trope: s2l

🩶Genre: smut

🩶Rating: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

🩶Warnings: creampie, unprotected sex, power bottom! reader, pleasure top! seonghwa, degradation kink, begging, dacryphilia, begging, dumbification, nipple play(m), verbal teasing, praise

🩶Word Count: 1,212

🩶Summary: when you agree to take on a stray bunny hybrid as a passenger on your transport, you had no idea you'd hit your fertile cycle and lure Seonghwa into a rut

🩶 Masterlist | Day Two: Hongjoong🤍

The lewd noise of squelching fills the cockpit of the ship, Limitless. You aren’t entirely sure anymore where Seonghwa ends, and you begin. All you know is that his cock is the source of your neverending pleasure and you aren’t keen on giving that up anytime soon. You have been riding him in the pilot's chair for who knows how long now, clothes only partially pulled aside or barely discarded in a rush to fuck, fuck, fuck.

You spoke between gasps and pants, unable to halt the movement of your hips. “When you said…you were…a bunny hybrid…you really weren’t…joking.”

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa whines, even as his hips cant upwards. “I didn’t think this would ever happen.”

Seongwha’s floppy ears bounce with every thrust into you. You push a hand through his hair, brushing his ears as well, and find them just as soft as you hoped.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “The days are long in a transport vessel. This will make them interesting.”

Seonghwa closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. He tips his head back and pushes his lips out. “Please.”

The bunny hybrid is addicted to kisses, just as much as his cockhead is addicted to kissing your uterus. His length is literally meant to put babies into you. In fact, he has already come so much that the noises echoing in the cockpit are literally him fucking his cum back into your already full and swollen cunt.

As you slant your lips across his rather plush ones, Seonghwa’s fingers dig into your hips, curving into your ass. “More,” he moans into the kiss.

You plunge your tongue into the cavern of his mouth, tongue lazily engaging with his and your cunt pumps him for more cum. You aren’t sure if crossbreeding is even a thing, but you are past the point of caring, honestly. You just want to hear the desperate mewls of the bunny hybrid under you.

“I’m gonna--” Seonghwa’s pained expression indicates that he is truly close to coming again. “I’m gonna come!”

“Fill me up, handsome,” you purr, and then he unloads inside of you.

You ride him through his high, stopping only after a few pumps to raise yourself above his cock. You both moan in unison as his still-hard cock slips out of your sopping wet cunt. Still, you remain above him, his cum pouring out of your gaping hole.

Seonghwa’s Adam’s apple bobs as he watches. “Don’t do that,” he whines.

“You’re doing such a lousy job of keeping me full, Seonghwa,” you coo mockingly. ���Look at it all coming out again! Guess you have no choice but to fuck me some more, hmm?”

The bunny hybrid whimpers tragically. “I’m doing my best.”

You carefully step off your pilot’s seat, legs barely able to handle your own weight. You move over to the navigation console and lean over it tantalizingly. You can feel Seonghwa’s cum dripping down your thighs and you know he has a perfect view of what you’re feeling.

“Are you?” You prompt him, throwing a challenging look over your shoulder.

Seonghwa makes a pitiful noise in the back of his throat and gets up from the cum-soaked seat that he has been glued to. His long fingers skim over your ass and he ruts his wet cock up against your ass cheeks. “I keep filling you up but you keep letting it all come out,” he murmurs in a sulky tone.

“Oh, it’s my fault that you aren’t keeping me plugged up and full of your sweet cum?” you raise an eyebrow at him. “Perhaps I should take my pussy elsewhere and you can try to keep my seat full of your cum instead.”

The hands that have been meandering over your ass tighten in possessiveness, and you feel a triumphant grin pull at your lips. “No. I need to be inside of you. Don’t leave me.”

You turn around and wrap your arms around Seonghwa’s neck. He’s in near-tears from the threat of you taking your hole away from him. “You gonna do a better job then?”

Seonghwa’s nose twitches, and his foot begins to tap impatiently. “I can do it. Give me one more chance. Please?”

You can’t help but fondly bop his nose. The stars reflect in his eyes, and you can not deny him anything in this moment. “I’ll give you one more chance but--”

You gasp as Seonghwa wraps his arms around your waist and hefts you up onto the console. With a hand pressed into each of your thighs, Seonghwa spears into you without any guidance. His eyes roll into the back of his head with the pleasure of being sheathed inside of you once again.

With tiny thrusts, he’s already dumb again. “So good, so good, so good,” he chants.

Your hands are free, and that gives you the opportunity to play with Seonghwa’s pebbled nipples. His shirt has a cheeky slit that makes it easy to reach in and do so. As a result, Seonghwa thrusts into you sharper than he had been.

“Oh god Seonghwa, fuck, just like that, handsome,” You groan.

Seonghwa bites down on his bottom lip and leans in to jack-hammer into you. “I like it when you squeeze me when you come,” he whispers shyly.

You run the back of your finger over Seonghwa’s cheek. “There’s a good bun.”

Seonghwa whines again, collapsing on top of you fully. He buries his face into the crook of your neck. The only space between the two of you is where he lifts his hips to fuck into you. “Wanna make you come,” He murmurs into your neck.

“Oh, it's not just all about you, hmmm?” You can't help but tease.

Seonghwa gently brings his teeth down on your shoulder. It's not a threat; it's more of a way for him to focus. “You're so warm and good to me. Wanna make you feel good, too.”

Your hands get tangled up in Seonghwa’s hair as you feel your climax soon approaching. The rate that he's thrusting into you guarantees that you'll be coming soon. “Hnnnnn, Seonghwa,” You moan.

“Come, pretty, come for me. Make your pretty moans, please. All I want to feel is you clench around me. Please, you're so warm and tight and--”

“Fuck!” You cry out and do just that. Your toes curl as you run through your umpteenth climax, each one better than the next.

Seonghwa whines, and you feel him spurt inside of you, coming little after you squeeze him with your climax. “Gonna fill you up, and it's gonna stay there,” he says into your neck.

You trail the tips of your fingers listlessly along the nape of Seonghwa's neck. “Good job, Bun.”

The bunny hybrid lifts his head so that he can meet your gaze. “Truly?” He wonders, lips pushed out and eyes looking for more praise.

You push some hair out of his eyes, and he blinks cutely at the gesture. “Truly.”

He rests for a moment, having completed his purpose. If not for the faint twitch of his cock calling him back to battle.

“One more time,” Seonghwa whispers against your skin. His hips push against yours, pelvis grinding into your clit.

“I've got time,” You can't help but grin.

🩶 Masterlist | Day Two: Hongjoong🤍

[voidangxls]

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Secret Admirer pt:1 ʚ♡ɞ

╰┈➤ a part of my valentines special!

pairings(s)- JJ Maybank x reader

Summary- It was the week of Valentine’s and the school was decorated in red and pink. You weren’t truly in the spirit for the specific holiday but what happens when suddenly you have a secret admirer?

category- fluff

warnings- timeline is before s1, use of y/n, pining, not proofread

word count: 4271

masterlist; valentines special; obx masterlist

---------------------------

You had grown up in the Outer Banks, a place where everyone knew each other. You had always lived here, you were a kook but you went to the public school where the Pogues went after you begged your parents.

JJ Maybank had known of you for forever, its the Outer Banks, everyone knew each other. But the first time he truly noticed you was at the annual back to school Kegger.

When the boy spotted you, you had been dancing with your friends, and a drink in hand. That was the first time JJ had ever seen you look so genuinely carefree and he knew he wanted to see it again.

That night he didn’t know what had come over him or why he felt the desire to talk to you or at least see that same carefree happy look on your face once again but he did and he hasn’t went back.

That night when he saw you it was only the beginning of the party but later that same night, towards the end of the party he saw you again. Only this time you were alone, your friends weren’t around like they had been before. The second time he saw you that night you were at the shore of the beach. You had been away from the party, sitting on the sand, your feet settled in a spot where the water would gently hit your feet where it met the sand. The moon was bright that night he remembers, it was bright and it casted and beautiful glow onto your silhouette sitting on the beach. JJ had only ever been one for meaningless hookups but when he saw you that night he was enchanted, he didn’t know why or what he wanted from it but he knew he was blown away. This time he saw you compared to the first, you didn’t look carefree and loose, you looked calm and at peace.

JJ remembers what you were wearing that night, both times he saw you played in his mind constantly. He remembers you were wearing some jean shorts, part of your bikini sticking out, you had a pretty blue bikini top on, and a white net cropped sweater over top of that. JJ remembers you had many bracelets and rings on, you had a necklace as well but he couldn’t see what it was from so far away.

It had been months since that day. School started in August and it was currently the first day of February. JJ could never scrounge up the confidence to try and speak to you.

Usually he was a very confident guy but you were different for some reason.

First of all, you were a kook. He didn’t get a long with kooks, he didn’t like them and they didn’t like him. If he was talking to a kook it was arguing or he was working unless it was Kiara. All of the girls he would confidently hook up with or speak to were either Torouns or Pogues, never Kooks. But with you, you were different. You were a kook sure but you didn’t seem like one to the eye. You went to the public school amongst the Pogues, you had never flaunted your money, and you’ve never started an argument with a Pogue for no reason. On top of all that, you had caught his eye worse than any girl before. Any girl who he had a silly elementary school crush on, any girl who he was only physically attracted to, any girl who he has had in his bed before and it scared the shit out of him.

You weren’t like the other Kooks to the eye, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind bugged him. What if he tried to speak to you and you started acting all stuck up and Kook-like, not that he would have the guts to talk to you anyways but thats besides the point.

And in JJ’s mind even if you were truly who he thought you were, at the end of the day, you were a Kook and he was a Pogue. Two teens born into different lives, different sides of the island, it would never work. He shouldn’t be interested in you and you would never be interested in him so him being too scared to talk to you was for the best, at least in his mind it was.

Those thoughts and concerns didn’t stop the boy from thinking about you though, or staring at you. The two of you had classes together, and ever since that night on the beach he would sit back in his seat in the classroom and admire you in whatever classes you guys had together, which was shockingly a lot.

One night he was with his group of friends, the four of them hanging out at the Chateau when Pope spoke up in the comfortable silence.

“You guys know, Y/n L/n?” He asks casually, his head not raising from the textbook in front of him.

At the mention of your name JJ’s head shoots up towards Pope. He doesn’t speak at first, too stunned to speak and too scared for his friends to know about his undeniable crush on you.

“Yeah, Ive had dinner with her family before” Kiara responds, looking up from her phone and over to Pope

JJ’s head then shoots from Pope over to Kiara. Why hadn’t he known about this? and when the hell did it happen?

“Yeah, why?” John B asks

After John B speaks up JJ’s head bounds back in Pope direction, very impatiently waiting for Pope to get to his point on why he brought you up.

“While I was delivering groceries for my dad, one of the stops was at her house and when I got there she invited me inside. She gave me a water and a bag of chips and a $100 tip, she’s actually really sweet.” Pope informs them, finally looking up from his book.

JJ had an inkling you weren’t like the other Kooks, but knowing how you treated a Pogue, specifically one of his friends secretly warmed his heart but even through that feeling all he could respond was “damn” as he messed with his hat in his hands

“Thats cool” John B responds to Pope

“Yeah, she was really nice when I met her. I don’t really know why we aren’t friends to be honest.” Kiara shrugs

“yeah, best experience I’ve had delivering groceries” Pope says

JJ feels his eyes roll before he had the chance to think about it “what, you got a crush on her or something?” he asks with a slight very fake laugh, trying to play off his annoyance

Pope looks up at the blonde boy with a confused face and lets out a genuine laugh but before he could respond in his defense John B speaks up “no, but you do” he says casually, hitting a tennis ball up against the wall of his home and catching it.

JJ’s head shoots towards his bestfriend, his eyes wide and his expression shocked. “No, I don’t. What the fuck are you talking about” he scoffs, slightly nervous, trying to brush off what John B had said.

“dude, no need to lie. I see you staring her down in class, it’s embarrassing.” John B responds, standing up from the couch and facing JJ.

“JJ, has a crush?” Kie and Pope ask shockingly in unison

“yup” John B says, popping the ‘p’. He looks away from JJ and to the other two, his eyes now moving between all three of his friends.

The boy walks over to JJ, now standing behind him and puts a hands on his shoulder. “I don’t know when it happened, but our boys got it bad” He says with a smirk, looking down at his best friend, waiting for him to admit the facts

“Wha- What the fuck are you talking about?” JJ retorts, trying to salvage the last bit of dignity he had. JJ Maybank didn’t have crushes, that wasn’t something he did, and he definitely didn’t get along with Kooks. Yet here he is with a crush on one.

As soon as John B outed his crush it he knew that he was done for. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the facts for more than 5 minutes against his friends, but he was going to keep it going for as long as he could.

“Dude, Kie and Pope might not notice because they actually pay attention in class but you’re always staring at her, like never taking your eyes off of her type shit. I even saw you take a different route to history because you would pass her” John B says and JJ is shocked to say the least. He thought that he was being sneaky and going unnoticed with his admiring but clearly his best friend had caught him red handed.

“When did this start?” Kiara asks, a slight laugh to her tone. Her tone is shocked, she couldn’t help it, JJ was known for simple hookups and then never seeing the girl again.

JJ lets out a huge sigh and looks around at his friends. Kiara is looking at him with a mix of amusement and shock, Pope with his mouth open in shock, and John B with a smirk on his face. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of the interrogation so he rolls his eyes and caves. “Since the back to school Kegger” He admits

“What!?” Pope exclaims, stepping forward

“Oh my god” Kiara scoffs shockingly

“woah” John B’s eyes widen

The blonde haired boy then starts to get defensive “what? whats that for?” he asks, talking about their reactions to what he said

“dude, I didn’t know it was for that long” John B responds, his face shocked, eyes wide

“I never thought id see the day JJ Maybank had a crush” Pope admits, shock covering his face and his tone. At this point JJ was getting annoyed, yes he knows this is completely knew for him but if he was being completely honest, he felt this overwhelming urge to talk about you. Now that his crush on you was very well not a secret to his only friends, he felt this deep need to just ramble on about you to them. Sure, he didn’t know who you were through and through but he had an idea of who you were and that only left him wanting to know all of you.

He knew that you kept your school bag organized and always carried at least one bag of gummies in it as a snack during classes. He knew the red ones were your favorite by the way you would save them for last. He knew that on most nights you didn’t get enough sleep, you were usually always struggling to stay awake during class or you just looked tired, but to JJ who looked just as beautiful as when you look like you got the perfect amount of sleep. He knew that your favorite highlighter to use was the yellow one but you hated the color yellow, he knew your favorite color was lavender and he knew you were usually very cold, no matter the weather outside you would always have a jacket either in your bag, on, or around your waist. He knew that you took care of your hair by the way it was always so perfect and shiny, he knew you actually cared about your grades, he knew you loved getting your nails done seeing as he never saw you without them done. JJ knew that you loved to paint, you would always be in the art room during free period or whenever you had free time. He would be lying if he said he didn’t purposely pass the art room to get a glimpse of you, seeing you in your element, so focused and in tune was truly beautiful to him, just like the night he saw you under the moonlight on the beach. He knew quite a bit about you, possibly things some of your friends wouldn’t even notice but he wanted to know more, no he needed to know more.

“Look, I don’t know when it happened but i’m hooked. Theres just something about here man, thats different, that drives me crazy.“ JJ admits, sitting back down from his standing position and running a hand through his hair.

“Woah” Kiara says and JJ’s eyes move to her

“what?” he asks confused, holding his cap between his hands stressfully

Kiara then takes a seat in front of him with a smile. She had never seen him like this and it shocked her, but she was also a girl and felt inclined to help him out because she absolutely did not trust any advice or ‘words of wisdom’ the other boys would give him “You like her, a lot. Shes really sweet, and shes not a stuck up Kook like the rest of them. Just tell her how you feel, i’m sure shed give you a chance.”

JJ looks at Kiara for a moment then down to his lap with a thoughtful expression “okay” he nods “i’ll do it” he decides

------------------------------------

It had been a week and JJ still hadn’t grown the nerve to even speak to you, let alone confess his feelings. It had been a week of his friends relentlessly teasing him for his change of personality over you. Then he had an idea. Now, he knew he wasn’t the most romantic person or wasn’t the best with words but he had an idea and he was determined to at least try it.

So late at night on a school night he began his search. He found an envelope and a piece of paper somewhere around the chateau, he took it back to his bedroom even though John B was asleep and began to think. He never experienced romance or crushes, he never read poetry or paid attention in english class. You were you, in his eyes you were the closest thing to perfect and he barely even knew you. He knew he would never be able to equate to your standards or what you deserve, but he would try his very best to write something romantic for you on this blank piece of paper.

He stayed awake, pen in hand, and blank page in front of him for almost two hours before he finally wrote a singular word on the paper. Once he was satisfied with what he had written he folded the paper and slid it into the envelope. JJ sat and stared at the now filled envelope for a moment, something was missing. He grabbed the pen again and drew a heart on the front of it, a heart that would be seen as soon as you picked it up. He just hoped you would be able to read his handwriting because admittedly…it wasn’t the best.

The next day all of the Pogues rode to school together, JJ still not free from the teasing. Once they arrived they all went their separate ways towards their lockers but JJ walked the way to yours. He made sure you and your friends weren’t around to see him slip the letter into your locker.

JJ, ever so ‘stealthy’ walked past your locker and slipped the note through the slits of it before quickly heading towards his locker that was luckily not far from yours. He was able to see you from his locker, now he had no reason to go to his locker since he didn’t have anything in there nor did he really bring anything to school but he wanted to get a front row seat to you seeing his note.

The morning had been hectic for you. Your alarm didn’t to off, your mom was taking diggs at you, you didn’t have time to get breakfast and you didn’t pack your daily bag of candy. Today would be miserable. On top of that, valentines was next week. Now you truly had nothing against Valentines day, it was a holiday for couples and you enjoyed seeing people in love, love was beautiful but when its something you aren’t celebrating you don’t really want that to be the only thing talked about for the next two weeks.

Aside from the hectic morning you walked into school, head held high, and backpack on your shoulders. You’re running a little tight on your usual morning schedule, usually you would stop by your locker, then stop by the art room to check your work or just talk to the teacher before heading to your homeroom when the bell rings. You didn’t have time for that today though, you would have to head to your locker then straight to your homeroom.

You arrive in front of your locker, unaware of the blue watchful eyes watching you from across the hall. You put your locker combination in and open the door. When you do so you see something quickly fall out of the locker and down to the ground, right in front of your feet. Your eyebrows furrow and your mouth downturns in confusion.

Leaning down to pick it up you realize it was an envelope. Your face is confronted in confusion as you stand back to your full height, inspecting the white envelope beneath your fingertips. There was a little pink heart right in the middle of it which brings a small smile to your lips.

You take your backpack off of your shoulders and push it into your locker. Then you turn your head, looking around you to see if anyone was watching you. There was some other students either roaming the hallway before first period or standing at their lockers. Once you saw the coast was clear you carefully begin to open the envelope, still unaware of the watchful eyes of a certain blonde. Pulling the paper out from the confinement you unfold it and begin to read. The handwriting was scrappy and a bit messy but you were still able to read it.

‘That night I saw you on the beach changed my view of you, not that it was bad in the first place. You’re beautiful and that night you looked so at peace, I wish I could see that again. - secret boy

A wide smile appears on your face as you read the words written, no it wasn’t Shakespeare but that didn’t change the fact that what was written for you was very sweet. There was no name attached so you had no clue who was behind this note, all you knew was that it’s a guy. After reading the note you clutch it in your hands and look around you once again, smile very evident on your face. You take another moment of staring down at the note before you put it into your pocket and grab your backpack, closing the locker behind you and walking to your class.

A certain Pogue who had been watching you lights up when he saw your reaction to his note. He saw how it made you smile and blush and he couldn’t help but do the same. Once you left your locker he decides his work for that day is done and walks to his class

As the day went on you couldn’t help but think about the note left in your locker that morning, it was honestly the only thing you could think about the entire day. You thought about who it could possibly be. You knew it was a Pogue, no Kooks went to the public school besides you and Kiara. But then another part of you thought that maybe this whole thing was a joke, you didn’t know why you thought of that as a possibility because you had never experienced bullying from your piers. Then yet again another part of you thought that maybe the note wasn’t made for you, maybe they accidentally dropped it in the wrong locker. Yet you hoped it was all real, you wanted it to be real but your search was big, most of the school showed up to the Keggers so that didn’t narrow your possibilities, and it was a guy, which barely narrowed your possibilities.

Later that day, on your way to lunch you were talking to your friend Paige and you told her about the note.

“oh my gosh thats actually so cute” Paige responds to you, her tone holding excitement.

“Look, I don’t even know if ifs real. It could just be a joke or maybe they put it in the wrong locker” You say with a shrug, the both of you walking towards the lunchroom together.

Little did you know your secret admirer overheard you. When he heard you sound so dejected and pessimistic over the note he frowned. Why would you think it wasn’t meant for you, you were amazing? Now he needed to make it known that your negative thoughts were indeed wrong.

------------------------------------

The next morning wasn’t as hectic as the one before. You woke up to your alarm, ate breakfast, packed your bag correctly (including your gummies) and your mom wasn’t home to argue with you.

You waked into school and quickly headed to your locker, luckily today you would be able to stop by the art room like usual. Opening your locker an envelope falls out once again, you smile and look around just like you had yesterday. There weren’t many people in the halls, there was a group of Pogues that everyone knew very well. Then there was some other stragglers of students walking the halls. You lean down and take the note between your fingers

‘Your art is really amazing, You’re so talented. I would love to hear about it sometime.

ps: this isnt a joke :)’

The smile on your face widens at the words written on the white paper. Not many people knew you loved art, the only people who knew was your friend Paige and your mother, although she hated it. Even with a smile on her face her eyebrows furrow, who would know you liked to do art, whoever it was paid attention to you. The secret admirer also had to have heard your conversation with Paige the day prior if they had felt the need to add the fact that the whole thing wasn’t a joke like you said. With a wide smile you put the note into your pocket and walk towards the art room.

Your secret admirer was across the hall, watching you as you react to the note he made for you last night. This reaction was different than the last, last time you were confused, happy, guarded. This time you were open, happy, and excited. Since the moment you walked through the doors of the school and went towards your locker he dissociated from his conversation with his friends and put all of his attention on you who was across the hall while pretending to pay attention to his friends. He watches you walk off to the art room with a proud smile on his face.

When you walk into the art room and go straight towards your most recent work that had been sitting out to dry. When you get to it you notice a bag of gummy bears with a note attached “i know you love them - secret boy” but when you pick up the bag you notice its full of only the red ones, your favorite. A laugh bubbles through you, whoever this is really paid attention to you and spent money on you which was meaningful when it was a Pogue who didn’t have much money to spend. You put the sweets in your bag and continue on with your day.

Throughout the day, just like yesterday you couldn’t stop thinking about him. In every class you looked around, looked at every guy and wondered if it was them. It was your last class of the day and you were once again not paying attention to the lesson but instead thinking about your letters and who it could be. Taking a drink of your water and look around the room just as you did the other classes.

As you scan around the room your eyes meet with another’s. The pair of eyes you lock with are a beautiful blue and those eyes belong to none other than JJ Maybank. The blonde boy was a well known name in the Outer Banks, he answered his friends causing trouble, news about his deadbeat dad, his own trouble, or girls talking about their hookups with him.

When the two of you made eye contact with each other you raise the corners of your mouth a give him a smile. In that moment JJ could have sworn he had a mini heart attack. He didn’t know if you smiled at him because you knew it was him, or if you were interested in him, or if it was simply just an innocent or awkward gesture. Snapping out of his thoughts he gives you a smile back in return, once the two of you exchange smiles you turn back forward to face the front of the class.

Little did you know the boy you had just interacted with was currently in his seat, trying to calm down his heart and not over analyze the situation that probably meant nothing.

a/n: this took me so long to write for some reason also I hope Taylor announces something at the Grammys tn😫🙏🏼

[pannman]

Alastor deals with transphobia towards reader headcannons

Tw: gender dysphoria, transphobia, murder, hurt/comfort

He doesn't know a lot about transgenders but he tries to understand

You explain to him that back in his time no one had a name for it and it wasn't a very accepting time (which he fully agrees). You tell him that sex is your body and gender is your mind and that you were born with a different gender than your sex. You explain that it causes you to be uncomfortable in your own body and going by your old name and pronouns

After thoroughly explaining it, Alastor will try to use your new name and pronouns as often as possible in order to learn them faster

It truly makes you feel great that he is trying so hard

But let's say one day he's not with you and someone is disrespectful. They say hateful things. It hurts you deeply and you're still really self conscious about defending yourself

You return home and immediately isolate yourself and cry. Alastor knows something is up and appears in your room to try and comfort you and also find out what happened

You are a bit worried that he won't understand why it hurt you so much but you tell him anyway. To your surprise he is furious and demands to know who this loathsome sinner is and where he might find them

If you're comfortable revealing that information he'll first tend to you and do whatever you need him to. He'll hold you and tell you that you are stronger than you realize. He'll bring you your favorite snacks and put on your favorite show even though he's not fond of television.

Then when he's sure you are going to be OK and you are fine to be left alone he'll track down this heathen and broadcast their carnage. He'll warn all of hell not to make the same mistake they did

Now if you refuse to give him any information about them because you don't want him to rip someone apart for hurting your feelings (still valid), he'll be a bit bummed but he'll respect that and simply spend all his time making sure you feel loved and validated

He'll cook for you, cuddle with you, and speak words of affection and affirmation to you till you fall asleep in his arms

Now if someone dared to be disrespectful of your gender with him nearby they would be torn to shreds before they can even begin to beg for mercy

Unless you step in quick enough to dissolve the situation. In which Alastor would simply scare the ever living daylights out of them and make them apologize

Then he would turn to you and make sure you are ok

In short, he may not understand the whole mind vs body thing but he does understand what's important to you

And will always care about what's important to you

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 66 Trepidation Posting

Well, dear void... I begged for Seitei War lore and a finger curled on the monkey's paw. Where to even begin?

Rough TL of the editor's notes:

First Page: 封じられた記憶… [fuji rareta kioku...] "Sealed memories..." Last Page: 妖刀も妖術もなくただその剣技で- [yoto mo yojutsu mo naku tada sono kengi de-] "No enchanted blades, no sorcery, just swordsmanship-"

Iori Lore and Dad Stuff

What a cute creature.

Her fake last name is Yoshiura (吉浦): 吉 (yoshi) for good luck/joy and 浦 (ura) for bay/creek/inlet. Nothing particularly interesting or exciting about it but it has a nice sentiment.

I'm in a better headspace now so I can do some thinking that needed to be done last week. Let's take some notes about the current arc and it's continued focus on one of Kagurabachi's key themes: Daddy Issues™.

Chihiro: lost his dad through tragedy, memories haunt and drive him. Was loved dearly and loved his father back in return. Acting on his grief in violent ways.

Hakuri: lost his dad through abuse, let go of his memories and found closure on that front. Was loved dearly then discarded but never stopped loving his dad.

Iori: lost her dad through his own guilt, trying to recover her memories of him. Was loved dearly and seemed to love him back in return. The memories she had with him were so upsetting that she passed out when she got them back.

Hiruhiko: mostly unknown right now, but clearly special to John and spoiled a bit by him. Surprisingly wholesome relationship despite how unhinged he is. If he was truly adopted like many fans think then John was probably a doting dad from the start.

So the "similar" traits based on what we know are...

Lost Their Dad: Chihiro, Hakuri, Iori

Dad Murdered/Killed: Chihiro, Hakuri

Dad Deliberately Abandoned Them: Hakuri, Iori

Were Always Loved by Their Dad: Chihiro, Hiruhiko, Iori

Dad was Burdened by Guilt: Chihiro, Iori

And the "unique" traits are...

Abused by Their Dad: Hakuri

Clings to Memory of Dead Dad: Chihiro

Dad Forgot About Them: Iori

Spoiled Brat Thanks to Dad: Hiruhiko

Chihiro and Iori are the ones being directly compared right now. They both lost their fathers, but Samura's a real piece of work compared to what we know about Kunishige. He chose to forget her in order to protect her whereas Kunishge went into hiding to stay with Chihiro. One child forgotten on purpose, one clinging to memories because that's all he has left.

Yeah, Samura's not winning any "Best Dad" awards any time soon- but it's hard to blame him when we see what the family was enduring because of his reputation after the war. Any half-decent parent wants their kid to grow up without having to see that kind of stuff. Samura just let guilt have too much influence over his choice on how to manage it, in my opinion. Kids should have a bit of say in how they're raised too. Not a lot but at least enough be able to feel seen and heard.

As for the other two, Hakuri and Hiruhiko are in pretty good shape. Hakuri's still smarting over the loss of his dad most likely, but he got the catharsis he was craving when Kyora finally acknowledged him right before he died. That particular wound can start to close up and heal as Hakuri moves on through the story, unlike Chihiro and Iori's at present. And Hiruhiko seems to be in the best spot out of the four as John's special little guy who can do whatever he wants. Spoiling kids isn't being a good parent but Hiruhiko's in a pretty good state all things considered- probably the best out of the four. We have plenty more to dig in with him so this'll get revisited once development happens or new information drops.

But yeah. Chihiro being rightfully angry at Samura for deciding to sever the parent/child bond so lopsidedly tracks with his unresolved trauma. Of course he thinks he wouldn't want to change a thing about living with his father. He's still deep in mourning and floundering in the morass of grief he uses to push himself forward. I wonder if we'll get commentary on this at some point... it's such a core aspect to his personality and the story that it might be saved for the end.

Iori's choice is left for another chapter but I have a feeling she'll agree with Chihiro and keep the memories despite the pain and danger they bring. Samura's guilt needs to be addressed and the daughter he chose to forget should have the biggest part in confronting him about it! The story can become an escort mission of sorts to keep Iori safe until that happens, which leads to easy action so hooray for us.

Perception and Being Perceptive

Yeah, he is. But that's not all.

And here we go, we're back to how people look at Chihiro and judge him without knowing the truth. Samura, Kunishige, and the other Bearers are "heroes" who seem to have some rather serious crimes buried in their pasts. Chihiro is a "murderer" stricken with grief killing those who try to destabilise society. Simple, no-frills parallels between guys drowning in guilt that anyone can pick up on.

What else is going on here? Well, those who were saying the hotel was inspired by John Wick are almost certainly correct with sorcery and fights being forbidden within it's walls. The Manager and his staff/followers enforce this with his own sword technique: Reigen One Sword School/Style (no relation to Reigen Arataka of Mob Psycho 100 fame). 礼 (rei): salute, thanks, gratitude, etiquette 玄 (gen): mysterious, occultness, profound

How... polite?

No, that's not Kumeyuri, and anyone who asks gets a bonk on the head for not paying attention.

Small note that wasn't kept in EN: Hiruhiko refers to Toto as "Toto-san", which is cute. He respects her and/or she's older than him.

Of course Toto summons Hiruhiko in so he can begin his own training arc by facing off against the hotel's staff. The bloody pin being used to tie his hair back will definitely not inspire a ton of fan art, trust me. It will be a Hiruhiko-free week everywhere (RIP my feeds). But Hiruhiko's really racking up the service industry experience between being bonded to Kumeyuri with it's geisha spirits and learning how to fight from hotel employees using a polite sword fighting technique.

Other than that, it's not clear if Kuguri's in this hotel or not but chances are extremely good that we'll get more hot-blooded action next chapter as Hiruhiko and Chihiro both learn by doing. Maybe they'll meet again, maybe not. The only guaranteed thing is that Sumi and Moku are wasting their time by prepping the seal on the roof because Iori's not going to want it even if it's finished before another dramatic escape is made.

Desperate cope theory while I'm here: maybe we can see Hakuri again soon since he and Hiruhiko have that "what is friendship, anyway" thing going on with Chihiro. That cut from Hiruhiko yapping about battling to the death as "equals" to Hakuri on the page turn in chapter 54 is still eating at my brain, yes. And Chihiro just reminded us that he feels inferior to Hakuri (he's gonna become his samurai it's canon no one can take this from me). Depends on how the next chapter plays out but I'm hoping. Dying. I'm dying without Hakuri. Please I miss him so bad just one new panel is all I'm begging for.

"Truth"?

OK. Time to let the brain worms squiggle freely over about two pages' worth of Seitei War information.

So, first... a translation note (sigh). The subject of how the war ended will probably come up now that the beginning of it was given to us (or at least, a particular version of it).

Chapter 9, if you forgot. Thank you Hella for catching this when I was all set to yap about the implications of an armistice vs. other ways to end a war.

How the war ended is still a mystery but it might not have actually been an armistice as implied by the English translation of the signboard. The word used in Japanese to describe it is 終戦 (shuusen), simply "end of war/cessation of hostilities" in a formal and pretty final way. The method could have been anything: surrender, peace treaty, and so on. An actual armistice would use 停戦 (teisen - temporary ceasefire for negotiations), 休戦 (kyuusen - a short-term truce/suspension of fighting), or 偃武 (enbu - mutually laying down arms but without the finality of shuusen) to describe both sides agreeing to pause the fight. So there might not have been mutual feelings that the war needed to stop for both sides' benefit like an armistice would imply, leaving a lot of room for the losing side to build up resentment.

Of course we all know that peace treaties coming from armistices can do the same thing if they are crafted poorly- The Treaty of Versailles used to end WWI is probably the most well-known example in the West. But the ambiguity exists in Japanese and should have stayed in English in my opinion. Folks who remember this signboard from early in the manga might be confused if it turns out the end of the war wasn't so peaceful or mutual after all.

With that out of the way, I want to talk about how fucking suspicious the story of how the war started is.

Keep in mind that Chihiro, Iori, and the Masumi don't know the truth of what actually happened- they're only recounting what they were taught or read about.

"But that all changed when the Fire Nation attacked" this is not.

小国 (shokoku): small country. NOT the actual name of the place, just describing it for what it was. "Twenty-two years ago... a 'small island nation' appeared in the south-east seas..." would be more accurate. (Thanks as always, Hella.)

So, right out of the gate, a whole damn country appearing out of nowhere full of people using magic rocks to attack the mainland sounds like something straight out of a child's fairy tale. You're telling me that Japanese Atlantis rose out of the ocean and became hostile right away, completely unprovoked? That's the kind of framing used to justify showing a foe no mercy. It's an essential part of successful propaganda- dehumanise the enemy, make them seem unknowable, monstrous, and imminently threatening.

The datenseki bit is especially interesting. How did these undersea people have natural compatibility with a stone named as if it came from a meteor?

雫 (da) - drop, trickle 天 (ten) - sky, heavens 石 (seki) - stone

And in such quantities that they could wage a war with it, despite it being rather scarce? (Only 250kgs exist per Sojo in chapter 11; same weight as nearly 12 average-sized countertop dishwashers in Freedom Units.) I suppose a giant meteor could have dropped in the ocean on their territory, or they could have mined it from the seabed, but I don't believe this conveniently simplistic version of events for a second. Not after so much emphasis was put on how shady the Kamunabi is and that they are hiding a lot of shit from the general public.

I doubt an island rose out of the sea as the story claims at all, honestly. While Japan does sit on the Pacific Ring of Fire and sees little islands pop up then vanish back beneath the waves all the time, one big and stable enough to have a whole nation's worth of people on it would not have gone undetected for so long. It beggars belief that the mainland didn't know they had a whole bunch of people living off the coast underwater unless they were using sorcery to hide from sonar and exploratory/research missions.

My bets are on this "invading" nation to have been a populated island that existed for a while and for some reason -probably related to the datenseki- war broke out between them and the mainland. Classic grab for resources, discontent with the mainland rulers vs. the island's own government, everything's still on the table. Maybe they were a long-lost fragment of society that tried to reintegrate, who knows?! But does anyone really think a war that started with such one-sided aggression out of the blue would have the population reacting to the people that saved them like this?

Not exactly a "hero's welcome".

"Disappear", "Atone for your sins", and "mass murderer" painted on the side of someone's house with garbage dumped in front is not reflecting the sentiments of people who are happy that the threat to everything they know and love was dealt with. That's outrage! Probably something to do with how the enemy was "wiped out" (JP:掃討 [soutou], cleaned up/swept clean/mopped up, specifically of enemies.) Sounds like the so-called invaders from Japanese Atlantis were thoroughly eliminated...

Iori is very young here, probably elementary school age. So this is a few years after the war in an unknown location- there's a chance this was on the enemy's island, but why would he live among the remaining enemies? He doesn't need more guilt than he already has, seriously. Also, since he was reputable as the fastest swordsman alive when the blades were being handed out, he most certainly wasn't a defector from the enemy's side. Thus I believe this scene takes place on the mainland.

It seems to me like it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows after the war so the Kamunabi came up with a publicity campaign and squashed the truth somehow. But that doesn't erase the memories of the people involved, either as participants or witnesses. I'm extremely curious as to how other members of the war generation remember things. The blades themselves were only used in empty fields (according to Azami, ch. 9) so the Kamunabi could spin that any way they wanted and likely did. But if that was the case, then who saw what and told others to kick off the harassment campaign? Are there mainlanders who dissent to the Kamunabi's rule because of that information not being completely suppressed and thus help out the Hisaku- like Kyora and the Sazanamis were implied to be doing? Remember, Kyora wasn't quite manipulated as thoroughly as Chihiro recounted to Uruha in chapter 48. He definitely had some personal and/or political sympathies with our favourite group of silly bad guys:

Chapter 22. "Dissidents" aren't business rivals or competitors- they're specifically political opponents against the current regime. The term used in Japanese (異分子 [ibunshi], outsiders/alien elements) has slightly different connotations but can mean the same thing.

This is what I meant by the monkey's paw curling at the start of this post. We got crumbs that only really raise more questions instead of answering anything. For now I am still clinging on to the theory of the Seitei War being a civil war... mostly because I don't know if the author intends to tell a story with blunt commentary on the misdeeds of Imperialist governments.

Possible Real-World Influences

Hakuri has nothing to do with this, I just miss him.

So, I know a lot of people have Attack on Titan's swerve into "What the Hell, Author?!" territory still fresh in their minds and I do too. What Hokazono-sensei's setting up here has some eerie similarities with a corrupt government hiding a lot of shit and the mysterious enemies being more sympathetic than they should be... I just hope we don't take the same route of "both sides were bad, so the military needs to protect us all and destroy the worse evil" that seems to happen a lot in these WWII allegory stories.

Not to get political about an action manga, but the discussions in Japan over how to teach younger generations about what went down in the WWI and WWII eras are pretty tense right now. A great deal of emphasis is put on the suffering of the people that happened after Japan was nuked twice -which was a tragedy- but the real story is lost in the debates about what and how much to teach. There's a lot of folks who want to minimize and omit lessons about the war crimes the nation committed in China, Korea, the Philippines, and the rest of the Pacific. There are even a handful who vociferously defend them as "necessary" things that happened during wartime.

I see a lot of this reflected in Kagurabachi's arc right now. We've been told several times that the Kamunabi's version of events can't be trusted and that there's something awful that was covered up. The Hishaku want some secret to come to light and it will almost certainly have hugely negative impacts on the Kamunabi, the Bearers, and likely Kunishige too. Chihiro needs to know what happened as a core part of his character arc, and it will probably come with the realisation that the conflict he's embroiled in is much more complex than a simple revenge mission can solve. Whatever the truth of the situation is will shatter his worldview.

Where Attack on Titan failed in executing this sort of plotline was making the Titans a genuine threat that needed to be put down after revealing what they really were. You don't set up obvious real-world parallels to groups that have suffered greatly in the past just to say they were a real threat all along. You don't downplay government's corruption and cruelty with "well the other guys weren't great either". But this isn't an AoT blog so I'll stop there.

I don't see a reason to be nervous about Kagurabachi making the same mistakes right now after the sensitive writing around difficult topics from previous arcs. I'm paying close attention to where the Seitei War information crumbs lead us, though. I'm interested in most things the author has to say if it's well-told but I'm not going to stick around for justification of jingoist ideology. I also hope that the author will be able to tell the story he wants even if it happens to go against the government's prevailing sensibilities.

We don't know yet where this will go so I'll just wait and watch with a bit of trepidation. I trust Hokazono-sensei to not repeat mistakes author authors have made, but he could well make new ones as an author writing his first-ever serialisation. I just want whatever comes of this plotline to have something interesting to say like the others before it...

We'll leave it here for today, dear void. Thanks for reading all this if you got through it and let's sit tight for some awesome hotel fight action next week! Say something nice about yourself once a day in the meantime. Every other or even just one day is fine if that's all you can manage too- we all start somewhere.

[utilitycaster]

The reason those C3 fans shit the bricks over the Charity stream was because they viewed the charity stream as a win for them and bells hells. Not like you know, an actual good thing to help people in need. Because when it was announced they were in the qrts and on twt yelling that the cast closing to play as Bells Hells was cause they loved them above all. That BH were "winning" because MN didn't get one shots while airing. No1 expected anyone BUT BH to be played so they were fighting air tbh.

[Cont. So when Laudna got yeeted and Beau joined it, it's like they suddenly hit with the fact that the cast like all the times. All character sheets were available and BH was being played by default of the one shot happening during c3. But they hung their entire world view on BH being extra special that they broke. Saw them also being PISSED at Ashley and Liam for getting MN members to the top before everyone else and especially the gate was "showing up BH".]

Here is what gets me, as a person who does not follow sports in any form: The Mighty Nein are a juggernaut of popularity within the fandom. I think this is for the most part deserved and I also think a lot of fans of C1 who never vibed with any later campaigns are simply not active in fandom any more since it's been 7 years, and Critical Role had more recognition with Campaign 2, so like, numbers within active social media fandom are not a perfect indicator of quality, itself a subjective measure.

HOWEVER. If you want your team to win, the most efficient way to do that is to start rooting for the winning team. I get that this is considered treasonous to genuine fans of sports. But like, if your biggest priority is Number Is Bigger then there is an obvious solution and it's called jumping on the bandwagon. Otherwise, perhaps you should consider a different metric, such as "did I have fun at this game? Were the snacks good? Were there some cool plays?" (from this you can see my priorities re: live sports namely are my friends here and did I get some nachos and a beer but you get my point). Honestly, this is how I and a lot of other people have been approaching Bells Hells week to week for some time now: were there some cool scenes? Did the character they liked most at the time say something funny? Did NPCs do anything? Were the fight mechanics interesting?

I have a post that I am saving for next week about specific elements of C3 that goes into more depth but I feel like Campaign 3's fandom in particular fell to a certain attitude that feels very specific to a younger (to me, an ancient crone, so like, mid-20s) crowd, of obsessing over numbers: how many fics. how many notes. how much screentime. can you believe that Episode 100 didn't even have Bells Hells in it????? And it's like. who the fuck cares. Is it good? Is it satisfying? Because right now we're watching you guys all admit it hasn't been and 120 episodes in you were waiting for the campaign to REALLY begin.

I don't think the cast dislikes Bells Hells! I think they all like all of their characters, and frankly when the cast gets asked directly a lot of them go with a "you never forget your first" and give their VM character anyway so like, the vitriol at the Mighty Nein really is a petty popularity contest in the end. But Bells Hells are the party that the cast happened to be playing during the Moon Plot Campaign and the party that the cast happened to be playing at the time of the livestream. None of the three main parties are uniquely special. They are special to their individual fans.

I made the Elon Musk comparison for C3 fans earlier this week and I don't want to go too hard since like, he is truly horrible, and I do think that a lot of C3 fans, while currently shitty self-absorbed people, are also quite young and it is my hope that a sharp but ultimately harmless disappointment like this campaign might shock them into fixing their hearts, but the final lines of this post came to mind while writing up a lot of my responses: "And in fact I would argue that seeking to put yourself above other people is inherently going to leave you empty, because egotistical as you may be, you've adopted a values system where your sense of self worth intrinsically depends on other people. Congratulations, you played yourself."

If your day can be ruined because your blorbo wasn't present for 100% of a live stream for charity and the cast likes all of their characters? You should work on that! I'm not saying it's easy or fun but it really is a thing you should work on because right now, the worst thing that's going to happen to you is people laughing at your misfortune on social media. But if you keep up this behavior, you're going to be bitter and miserable forever, and it will be your own fault because you're getting mad that something that was never about you continues to not be about you. Learn to accept that you had a good time (if you had a good time, anyway) and it's over and that's okay.

[chock-and-bates]

it is ridiculously late (early) for me, but i promised everyone a reveal.

here's who leaked max and charles sex tape in (i love you) it's ruining my life.

Most of you knew this was coming- but which Carlos is responsible? You can read the little (unedited) ficlet or scroll down for the tl;dr summary.

enjoy :)

-----------

Carlos first noticed something was off with Max and Charles in 2022. 

There had been a mounting tension between them all year, so when that tension disappeared, replaced with a light, dreamy energy as they mooned over each other- he was going to notice.

He tries very hard not to think about what’s going on between them. It’s none of his business.

*

In 2023, it only gets worse.

He sees the private smiles they shoot at each other in the paddock, the way they naturally drift together whenever possible, how they whisper together after a shared podium with something salacious in their smiles.

Carlos wonders if anyone else suspects. Try as he might, it begins to weigh on him.

He finally decides to satisfy his curiosity one night in the mid-season, and it turns out to be almost disappointingly easy to catch Verstappen sneaking into his teammate’s hotel room. 

As he watches Max pull a keycard out his pocket and use it to slip in through Charles’ suite, Carlos can’t help but think to himself that the Dutch driver truly gets everything. 

*

In 2024, he starts the season already out of a seat.

The rumors swirl, Mercedes, Red Bull, Aston, Alpine, and he drives for his life every week.

In the end, it’s Williams.

“I’m sorry,” his cousin tells him one day, after they’ve been drinking. Carlos knows he feels guilty, as his manager and as his family, like he could have found him something better. His father watches them both silently. 

Carlos tells him it’s fine.

*

This season has not been the best for him and Charles. Things are tenser than normal, and Carlos often finds himself frustrated with him.

It’s one of these nights, after another moment on track, that he and Caco are drinking again.  They’d spent the better part of an hour venting about his teammate, and even though the subject has moved on to the rest of the grid, Carlos is still feeling agitated and more than a little drunk, his mind lingering on Charles.

“Do you think Verstappen’s feeling worried about that McLaren yet,” Caco asks, continuing on their conversation.

Carlos scoffs into his drink, his agitation making him bitter, “He’ll be fine, I’m sure Charles is still rewarding him for P5 tonight.”

“What do you mean,” Caco asks, raising a brow curiously.

Carlos pauses, realizing what he’s done. There’s a stab of guilt in his gut, he’s gone two years without telling anyone about this.

But he’s also gone two years without telling anyone about this.

Pushing away his guilt, Carlos tells his cousin everything.

*

A few weeks later, Max and Charles’ sex tape is emailed to nearly the entire paddock. When he gets the email, Carlos feels sick.

Later, as the entire team goes into crisis mode around him, Carlos watches Caco engage in an intense conversation with a Ferrari executive, both of them speaking low but sternly.

Moving closer to listen, he catches a few phrases, things like “unacceptable behavior” and “horrible association for the team”.

He watches his cousin getting more and more heated as the exec keeps shaking his head, and Carlos suddenly realizes what has happened.

*

“I did it for you, Chile,” Caco insists, “We needed to try something.” 

Carlos, his father, and his cousin are tucked away in his driver’s room, suddenly in a crisis of their own.

When Carlos confronted him, Caco had confessed startling easily- yes, he had been behind the stolen phone, yes, he leaked the sex tape, no, he was not sorry.

“You sound insane,” his father is hissing, “This is a fucking disaster.”

“No! Don’t you see?” Caco says, vehemently, “Someone in the paddock will leak it online or to the media, and Leclerc will be in ruins. This video is filthy, Ferrari won’t be able to stay associated with him once it gets out. He’ll have his contract voided, and then Carlos can take his place.”

Carlos and his father stare at him, Carlos in horror, his father consideringly.

“You deserve this seat,” Caco stands firm, “I know I let you down with the Williams contract… Please, let me try this one last thing.”

Carlos is still speechless, but his father slowly nods.

“You better hope this works,” his father says, deadly serious.

*

“It’s been hours,” Carlos Sr. notes impatiently, “Why has the video not gotten beyond the paddock?”

Caco shrugs, unable to hide how frazzled he was, “People are showing more restraint than expected. It will still leak.”

Carlos says nothing, staring down at the driver’s group chat on his phone. People keep asking him for news, but Ferrari has ordered him to stay quiet. He hasn’t been able to see Charles all day… he doesn’t really know if he could face him anyway.

“If it doesn’t leak in the next hour, then I expect you to help things along,” his father tells his cousin, no room for argument, “Ferrari won’t entertain getting rid of him unless it leaks.”

*

There is a palatable explosion of panic once the TMZ article is published. Ferrari hospitality descends into chaos, and Carlos is swept up in the mayhem as his father and cousin rush to take advantage.

Carlos listens to them speaking furiously to executives and feels sick once again.

It’s a feeling that only worsens when he catches the eyes of Max Verstappen as he’s led by, and it’s the sight of his former teammate’s dazed, shell-shocked expression that finally makes Carlos retreat to his driver’s room, hiding away from it all.

He puts his head in his hands, thinking of Charles and Max, his family’s words, of how many people are seeing the video, how Charles is being so thoroughly violated today. 

This is all his fault.

*

His father curses up a storm and his cousin looks crestfallen when Ferrari and Red Bull post the announcement about the relationship, promising full support.

Carlos immediately likes the post.

He also does nothing to hide the relieved smile on his face when he sees Charles and Max walking through the building, hand in hand.

*

The rest of the season passes in a flurry of media scrutiny, constructor fights, and goodbyes.

Carlos is asked about his teammate's newly revealed relationship more times than he could count, and he offers firm words of support with each interview, no matter what others tell him to say.

Still, Charles will barely look at him, either too caught up in a lovesick daze whenever Max is around him (a new, constant occurrence) or because he seems to be acting purposely icy and suspicious towards Carlos’ side of the garage.

Carlos doesn’t blame him, he deserves it. 

Caco is nervous now, constantly looking over his shoulder, and jumping whenever someone new comes up to speak to him. His father refuses to speak about it, already looking stubbornly forward and ignoring the sins of the past.

Despite Charles seeming to come out surprisingly unscathed (so happy he’s literally glowing with it) the guilt of everything continues to sit heavily in Carlos’ conscience.

*

When the final race comes around, and his departure is suddenly all too real, Charles pauses his hostility to give Carlos a genuinely kind and thoughtful send off. 

Carlos hugs him tight, and thinks about how sorry he is.

He is sad, so sad to say goodbye to this chapter of his career. And he is so regretful there is such a dark cloud of guilt hanging over these final days.

When Charles kindly shows up at the end of season testing for a final goodbye, Carlos finally decides he can’t stand to end it like this. Not without at least trying to make things right-

Before he leaves Ferrari for the final time, he asks Charles if they can talk.

---------

tl;dr summary: Carlos realized something was up very early, but kept Max and Charles secret for two years.

One frustrated, drunken night, he reveals that secret to Carlos Oñoro (Caco) his cousin and manager, who has been feeling guilty over not landing Carlos a better contract for 2025. His cousin steals Charles' phone and leaks the video in the hopes the scandal will get Ferrari to drop Charles and Carlos can get his Ferrari seat.

Neither Carlos or Carlos Sr. knew about the plan, but while Carlos is horrified, Carlos Sr. decides to see the plan through, hoping it will work in his son's favor. He orders Oñoro to make sure the video leaks further, implying Caco is the one who went to TMZ.

Carlos is relieved when the plan doesn't work, and happy for Max and Charles, but the guilt eats away at him. On the last day of his time at Ferrari, he decides to confess to Charles.

-------

hope this offers some of you the clarity you were looking for ❤️ thanks so much for reading.

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

Sneak Peek of ch 6 of YGTWG

Style’s dad doesn’t look surprised to see him. But that’s not a shock. He’d already seen Kant last night after all. He’s not sure what he told him, but it’s possible he warned him about some of the things that have happened.  

Which could make this whole thing easier….or harder. 

Jay confirms it as soon as the door shuts behind them. “So, I’m going to assume you are here to fill in the blanks that Kant left?” 

“That depends,” Fadel replies, following him to the dining table. “What exactly did he tell you?”

The man gestures for Fadel to take a seat, and when he does he also sits down and begins speaking. “He came here late last night, but didn’t stay for long. He was banged up pretty good, but wouldn’t tell me what happened. He just started talking about how he was blackmailed by a police officer and got Style involved in something shady. He told me that if a Captain by the name of Christ showed up, that I shouldn’t tell him anything about Style…or you. He said I also shouldn’t trust anything he says about you guys, and that if you showed up before Kant had a chance to return with news of Style, that I should listen to what you have to say.”

Fadel is kind of shocked by this news. Kant had warned him about the police officer and hadn’t revealed anything too damning. He had also thought that Fadel would come here and make things right. Which…yeah, Fadel wouldn't have left Style's dad hanging like thst, but for Kant to acknowledge it…well, it means something to Fadel. And he doesn’t like it, but he feels a little bit grateful to the bastard for taking the tome to come here last night,  and for telling Jay to listen to Fadel. It’s going to make this all a bit easier now. 

“Kant was right to warn you and he was also right to think that I would come here.” He begins, “But before I tell you what I came here to say,” he pauses and takes a grounding breath. “I want you to know that I truly and sincerely love your son.”

The man in front of him simply smiles and says. “I know.” 

That throws Fadel for a loop. “You…know?” 

He nods and puts a gentle hand on Fadel’s shoulder. “Son, there are some things you come to learn about life once you’re as old as I am. And one of them is that sometimes, it’s not about the words you say. It’s about your actions and the way you look at someone. And I’ve seen the way you look at my son.”  Fadel’s chest grows tighter with his words. “I can tell that you love him. Maybe even more than he loves you.”

“If he was smarter, he wouldn’t love me at all.” He replies quietly and stands up from the chair, preparing himself for what comes next. 

And now it’s Jay’s turn to look apprehensive. “Why-”

Before he can get the question out, Fadel drops to his knees and wai’s deeply to him. 

“What are you-”

“The reason I’m here right now, and the reason Kant was here, is because Style was taken by a dangerous organization yesterday morning and was seriously injured.” He can tell that he’s about to ask more questions so he barrels on. “And while I wasn’t the one that harmed him, what transpired happened because of his affiliation with me. I don’t expect you to forgive me for this transgression, but I had to come here to explain with my own mouth what happened.” 

His voice sounds panicked when he asks, “What do you mean injured? How bad is it?” 

“The important thing is that he is okay now. His life isn’t in danger. But I’m not going to lie to you.” He finally looks up at Style’s father, because he feels that he needs to look the man in the eye when he tells him this. He deserves that much. “It was really bad. He was beaten and stabbed. They had him for over four hours before I was able to get help to find him and intervene. I got there in time to stop the man that took him and Kant was able to stabilize him enough that we could get him to a doctor in time, but he had to have emergency surgery. Some of his injuries are extensive.”

Jay’s eyes look almost hollowed out and his face is quickly changing from confused worry to anger. “You said he was taken? As in kidnapped? By who? Why would they take Style?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong. They took him because of me. It’s my fault.” He can’t bear to see the disappointment on the man's face so he stares back at the floor. “I used to work for a company that has ties with the underground Mafia. I was raised by the owner after my parents were murdered and I was made to do…. unsavory things…but I’d been trying to get away for the last few years. I opened the restaurant and my brother and I were making plans for our escape…for our future. This was our chance to get out, and when I met Style I thought…well…I was naive to think that she was going to let us go without a fight. Style was collateral damage that I didn’t see coming. But I should have. And I will forever regret not realizing the danger he was in.” 

“You said you stopped the person who hurt him?” 

“Yes.” 

“Did you make him pay?” Fadel’s eyes snap back to Style’s fathers. He looks serious. He wants to know. And Fadel finds that he wants to tell him. “Yes.”

[cuppajj]

I was looking back at some asks and saw how Saint Vanilla plans to purify himself after he purifies everybody- and- is the poor guy suicidal..? Like I know in his eyes it probably isn’t because it’s ’purification’ but my poor bud, my poor pal if he is. And if he isn’t, I’d love to honestly see what he is! you made Saint such a complex but SUCH a lovely character that gets my lore brain tingling.

The thought process is more possible than you think… At the very least, the beast certainly seems to feel a little envy for those he purifies. I wonder if he sees that final outcome differently for himself than everyone else?

Do you think that he sees doing himself away as atonement for everything he’ll do?

[captain-astors]

The Crown Prince

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

men are so disappointing in so many ways i know i shouldn't expect most of them to be dignified humans but it's crazy. i need to get over this guy he's making my sense of self crumble even faster than it usually does. like he's just so unlike my usual type and i'm pretty convinced he's stupid and slutty and not discerning whatsoever. not to mention boring like i know even if i did have a chance with him he wouldn't Get Me at all so it's a bigger waste of time that usual and i'm actually pretty tired of men in general and definitely tired of parasocial relationships because they drive me insane for months typically. thankfully it's only been like 2 weeks if that at this point. idk. sigh. i know literally virtually nothing abt him as a person and ofc liking any public figure who you know nothing about is only setting yourself for heartbreak and disappointment to begin with bc you already know nothing is gonna come from it but. in a way it's almost addictive to become obsessed with someone and not be looked at with the same level of scrutiny. i don't think anyone in real life would ever try to get to know me as much as i try to get to know people who i'll never even meet. lmao! but that's the thing... idk... i have a lot of love in my heart and it consumes me and i reject my pride usually when i'm into someone. i want to know more... like VORACIOUSLY consuming anything with information about them involved simply because i think knowing someone is a very deep form of love but of course you can never truly know anyone. not completely. and that scares me i think which is why it's always probably been easier for me to never really TRY to be with anyone or have anything real. idk. this turned into me psychoanalyzing myself real quick but SOMEONE needs to bc i need to understand what the fuck is wrong w me.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Sat politely ankles crossed hands folded please say you have more thoughts about the DC deweys. Lazarus pit cold-eyed stare pristine and bloodthirsty anyway I would love to hear any further thoughts if you have the time + energy + motivation

how i imagine you waiting for me to re-read the resurrection of ra’s al-ghul and hush vol. 1+2:

ALRIGHT. in no particular order, thoughts about the dc deweys

connor fits very well into the mold of a talia al-ghul for me; chip on his shoulder, femme fatale, deadly and precise. he’s not the loudest but he’s got a dry wit that’ll cut you!

“why is connor an al-ghul at all and not batman” well first of all he’s already got the water connection, i’m gonna go dip him into the lake a couple hours north of the pas to make him incredibly long-lived, rejuvenated and beautiful

second of all i want him to be a questionable villain/antihero because he looks evil in those pictures but like beautiful evil. you see him at a multi-million dollar soirée and he’s bored of being there wearing his “heritage” beads and jewels he originally had from a thousand years ago. he and his assassins are only here to murder the head of state who’s planning to lay a pipeline through ancestral grounds

rip brandon duhaime i simply cannot imagine you as any kind of batman. lacks the gravitas, too much of a yapper, loves his wife too much. i curse thee to be green arrow if you’re in this narrative at all

assuming connor stays with toronto, would LOVE to think about toronto as one of the sites of the lazarus pit for many reasons

(a brief aside here to say that for me personally this is interesting if connor goes to winnipeg because i think they suit him better, he’s a manitoba boy, but re: the chip on his shoulder, he’s NOT a manitoba boy. he’s from the pas and very proud of it)

a) the amount of ‘toronto is the center of the universe’ hockey creation myths i can play with & birth/rebirth/reincarnation. if you WANT to feel unhinged trying to blend hockey and comics is an ice rink not just a pool of water?

b) mr. cathal kelly i love your works!!! toronto eats its young!!! thinking about this very literally in the sense of the resurrection arc where players come to toronto and are sacrificed, give up their body, their skill, in service of the demon’s head, and lose themselves.

c) we see echos of the same narratives and styles over and over again—if i can hop over to the flyers for a second, there is of course the curse of the *8s (18 richards, 28 claude, 48 danny b, 68 nolan, 88 lindros) but ALSO the danny brière -> tk -> morgan frost celly chain. every generation a resurrection, emerging clean and new from the pit

can you just briefly hold my hand and imagine wayne gretzky as an evil ra’s al-ghul wanting to possess a new body. gretzky i’m sorry to malign you and i know you never played in toronto but you are the best player in my head to fit the idea, i’m open to other suggestions

coming BACK to green arrow dewey (i did not re-watch arrow or re-read those comics sorry) connor could also be black canary, who takes a brief dip into the lazarus pit (toronto) before getting married to oliver. i do like that narrative but because we were talking about pristine and cold-blooded i figured connor dewar head of the league of assassins was more what you were after

now that i’ve gotten through world building… choose your own adventure narratives?

hockey-ish au: connor chosen as a host for the Next One. i think the lineage of the great one -> next one -> next next one -> next one up of gretzky -> crosby -> mcdavid -> bedard is taken, BUT i can imagine that the league of old boys all have the same intentions. connor gets sent to toronto unknowingly being prepped to get body-snatched by ???? and brandon duhaime of course accidentally stumbles on the plot and they have to fight to stop it

connor assassinating people :) snapshot of the head of the league of assassins delegating which major world events they’re going to change today. would love his shark face from the gifset to have blood spattered across it, ideally.

version 1 as head of the league of assassins: brandon is one of his assassins, big strong bodyguard type. devoted to him, would lay down his life, perfectly designed for connor (lady shiva/cassandra cain-ish). connor orders for something to be done and brandon does it there for him then gently wipes the blood off his face and apologizes for being careless and getting him messy.

version 2 as head of the league of assassins: an actual plot where connor aims to assassinate SOMEONE but brandon gets in the way. they meet at odds as their respective roles (hero, leader of a crime syndicate) but are magnetically drawn together as their alter egos. eventually brandon puts together the pieces of the Big Evil and manages to (legally!-ish as much as vigilante-ism can be legal) take it down and the ending panels show a tentative friendship and recognition of potential shared goals

also, jaromir jágr is immortal. don’t know if this is relevant OR related but he is. personal hot spring lazarus pit?

um. thanks for coming to my 1.5k ted talk (including tags). what a way to moritz seider lore drop that i DID grow up a comic book nerd, lmao. thank you so much for enabling me <3 i'll be here all week thinking about which teams would get what rings in a blackest night au

[gu6chan]

the brief mention that 1.3 leonard could still be feeling some deep lingering grief over his brothers' deaths still never fails to fascinate me tbh like, does he think of the standards he must have lost since their passing and feel guilt? or does he see them in every child he abuses??? does he keep his grief to himself or does he find it a useful anecdote to what must be a countless number of families dealing with loss??? does the green dragon know? does he confide in it????? since leonard seems to be aware of what arioch lost to the union, just how aware is/was she in what HE lost???????? did they have a role in each other's loss? is THAT where their beef came from??????? im going to merge into a wall