#like you dont even have to do anything wrong either‚ you can do it perfectly and just Happen to have a vein right where you stab

[ghstzzn]

first of all, WHAT THE FUCKKVKKKKK

second of all, hell yeah #needthat

now let me be annoying and quote every line that had me convulsing in my bed because you are so articulate and i say this all the time but you need to release a book. i will be the first buyer.

“you started to hate the idea of perfection. You clawed at it like a noose wrapped around your pretty throat” every girl just fell to her fucking knees reading this line like aside from the fic…… you cooked with this line and 14 yr old me would bow down to you for this one.

“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.” its the way perfectionism is so carved into reader that she also see’s sunghoon as some being that can’t do any wrong either. LIKE GIRL THE SIGNS ARE THERE !!!!!!! (shes so me!)

“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.” sunghoon seeing love making mostly as a way for him to memorize every detail of your body so he can perfectly carve you out into a perfect doll like oh my GOD oh my god. im geeking right now. being so obsessed and devoted to you please KILL MEEEE.

“It was the only time he liked you to be messy, when you were laying in a heap of doll parts beneath him.” i almost passed out reading this line. that’s all. if you get it then you get it.

‘“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.” well yes! because he has girl!

“Pretty dolls don’t cry.” JUST STARTED CHOKING MYSELF WITH MY OWN HANDS

“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.” AND I LOVE MANIPULATION!!!!!!!!!

“You, above anything else, above everything else. A peek inside my mind and how the only thing in there is you.” of course i still love you babe! its just the way you yearn to make me your very own life sized doll just threw me off a little!

“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.” pretty boys cry

i love the way you had reader going back and forth in her thoughts about hating the life she was living to it be the only thing she had and refused to live without it. like it shows how well sunghoon was molding her to be perfectly fit before actually making her into a doll like WOW. manipulation at its finest, you don’t even know until its pointed out.

even at the end she looks for sunghoon for answers. when she follows him with ease into the room. when he quotes that its as if she were made for him. like holy shit he molded her with his bare hands and i love it.

all in all, #needthat, this was so good i love crazy desperate men and if you dont then yall stay safe out there. this was for the freaks !! i got teased heavily with this fic and the wait was so worth clawing at my skin every time kipo sent me a screenshot.

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.

[gibbearish]

it is fun when u comment on a post on reddit and someones like "ummmm look what sub youre in" like no i know. i just think what you said is dumb enough that i'm willing to get downvoted to tell you that

[walking-loather]

.

[lnkedmyheart]

Okay so minimafioso on twt brought this up but this art has everyone hanging on threads like puppets around Fyodor.

And if you look closer all of them are hanging in ways that show that they are obeying the laws of gravity, limp, and doll like with their hair and clothes all hanging off in the correct angles.

And then you have Chuuya who is hanging upside down but his doll isn't limp. Yes he is a gravity manipulator but he is being controlled like a puppet with no autonomy on a string so why isn't he limp? Why is his hat not falling off? Or his coat and hair? Why are they perfectly in place?

Also like, everyone is strung up and the body parts pulled up are all held up by strings but Chuuya only has one leg on a string and the other is still perfectly positioned despite not being held up by anything.

Chuuya's doll practically looks like it is standing upright. But if Chuuya is a puppet he shouldn't have control over his ability like that. Maybe it's just me but the doll also seems to be fully aware and looking straight at Fyodor, being the only one whose head is not in a natural position for his body (everyone else is).

And the whole speculation with Chuuya having broken out of Fyodor's (Bram's) control. We know Chuuya was really exhausted as a vampire when we first met him. He was heaving and sweating, something no other vampire in my memory was shown doing (I could be wrong about that though). And he's not someone who'd get exhausted easily. We also know Chuuya has managed to power through corruption and not only recognised Dazai but also actively searched for him in his corrupted state and controlled his strength to not take off his head with a punch in that state.

We also know that words can have some effect on the vampires like Aku remembering his promise to Atsushi which could imply something because we got Dazai's words invoking their unbreakable bond followed by the last panel where we saw his eyes showing a seemingly fully lucid Chuuya.

And then we either dont see his eyes and fangs at all or he is entirely missing from the scene. He hasn't even hissed and shit. And he had left the control room he and Fyodor were in long before Fyodor gave him the order to kill Dazai. Also Dazai dragging himself right to the camera to let Fyodor know exactly where he is.

Idk about anyone else but that bitch is planning something.

[cpvnksabm]

Things I Think RTC Did Well In Disability Rep (in 2016-2018 scripts)

exactly what it says in the title. i'm not touching on the pre-2016 scripts because i dont know enough about them and i'm not talking about the 2022 script changes for obvious reasons.

disclaimer, this is all my own opinion as one disabled person, other people may feel differently and that's fine.

Ricky's disability in general

Ricky is a young person who uses mobility aids. He can't talk, implicitly due to dysarthria. He has a degenerative disease, specifically a rare disease which is heavily implied to be neuromuscular. And it's stated outright that his disease is lifespan-limiting and that he's dealt with his own mortality in life.

And all of these things are very underrepresented!

I'm not going to claim that all of these things were explained perfectly or explored in detail in the canon. But just having them on-stage, in my opinion, is a big deal in itself. And it's also a big deal that Ricky is a main character, who has the same character depth as the abled characters, when so many characters like him are reduced to ableist props for other characters' story arcs.

I understand there's been some confusion about the specifics of ricky's disability, in the fandom. And I know part of the confusion comes from the fact that the script didn't explain everything, and glossed over most of the details. But honestly? The fact that so many RTC fans didn't initially understand parts of his disability - such as the fact that it's likely neuromuscular, or the fact that his inability to speak is implied to have a physical cause - just makes it more important that these things were represented on-stage in the first place. They're so underrepresented, little-known, and poorly-understood that many people don't pick up on them even when they are represented!

Just showing these underrepresented disabled experiences on-stage has potential to help a lot of disabled people feel seen, which matters.

Ricky as a victim of ableism

Okay, this one might be controversial, but i'm speaking from the heart here.

Ableism is a huge part of Ricky's backstory and character - the whole Zolar thing is stated to be a coping method to deal with isolation & cruelty. Throughout the musical Ocean infantilizes him in dialogue, and in her song she argues point-blank that he has no reason to be alive due to his disability. The rest of the choir aren't perfect either - sure, nobody else says anything ableist, but they're all bystanders to Ocean's overt ableism, nobody really holds her accountable or acknowledges that what she's saying is fucked up. On top of that, Ricky says after his song that nobody listened to him while he was alive which, combined with the whole choir being shocked upon learning about his deeper thoughts, pretty clearly implies that they all ignored him previously.

And it's so fucking realistic.

Look. I'm not saying that Ocean's ableism was ever handled perfectly in canon. I am saying that when I saw a post-2022 production with the able-bodied Ricky script, I got a sinking feeling in my gut when we got to *that* part of WTWN and I realized the ableist lines had been removed/replaced. Because facing ableism is a huge part of my disabled experience that I barely ever see even acknowledged in media, let alone represented accurately, and the more I face ableism in real life the more I feel I can relate to Ricky, and that is so important to me.

Depicting bigotry in fiction is always difficult to do right - it's a rough balance between "this is not okay and we should not imply that it is" and "many people believe this is okay, wrongly, and that needs to be shown accurately". Sure, you can make it so the antagonist character is overtly ableist and every sympathetic character explicitly says "I do not agree with your ableist views!" and that way it's 100% clear that the ableist actions are wrong. But real ableism isn't just like that. Sometimes real-world ableism is a group of perfectly nice people who just never think about the disabled kid, or how he's doing or whether someone should talk to him, because they've been taught to ignore him. And sometimes it's a girl who swears to God that she's a good person, who considers herself an ally, whose voice stays sweet and kind as she switches between talking to her disabled classmate like he's 5 years old and claiming he doesn't deserve to live.

I think the brutal honesty of ableism in RTC is important. Yeah, it's pretty fucked-up when you think about it - Ocean openly sings about why Ricky shouldn't live, every ableist character is presented sympathetically, nobody is ever actually held accountable for ableism on-stage - and that's just like real life. I'd like to think that it could act as a wake-up call to some abled fans, who are similar to Ocean (+ others) and who could learn to understand the flaws in their worldview when they realize you're not supposed to agree with what she says in WTWN. But even more importantly than that... it makes me feel seen, in a way that I couldn't feel if Ricky's experiences with ableism weren't shown so realistically.

SABM, like, all of it

Do I even need to explain this? Disabled person has a whole furry-themed musical number. That's cool as fuck. God I wish that were me.

Okay, seriously. I think SABM is wonderful and important for a number of reasons. Like all of the character songs, it's important for expanding Ricky's character - not only is it a main glimpse into his interests, but it sets up for us to learn more about his personality and the selflessness that would later lead to the touching Savannah scene. It shows us his deep internal thoughts - it confirms that he has deep internal thoughts - and explains how he's been coping with the ableism he faces.

SABM is weird. I like that. I like that Ricky gets to have weird interests and a weird self-insert fantasy, while being disabled - I like that being disabled isn't treated as his "weird" trait, such that giving him weird interests as well would be "too much". Because that happens a lot! Disabled people are expected to be completely average in every other way to "make up" for our disability. And, yeah, SABM is kind of horny - and that makes sense! Ricky is a teenager, he's in his final year of high school, most people his age do have sexual fantasies. Other characters also reference sex in various ways so it makes sense that Ricky would. And I think it makes sense for SABM to be weird because part of Ricky's backstory is being ignored and isolated due to his disability - that's the sort of thing that, long-term, can leave people without a clear reference point for 'weird' and 'normal', or just leave them having no reason to care about being 'weird' because they're ignored anyway.

But also, if I may get analytical for a moment. Throughout the musical until SABM, Ricky faces a lot of ableism from Ocean, which isn't really commented on - she infantilizes him, both by assuming he's incapable of deeper thought/understanding and by being shocked at the idea that he might talk about porn or sex, and she also argues that he doesn't have a reason to live with his disability. Ocean is a flawed character and an unreliable narrator, but for the first half of the musical, you could be forgiven for thinking maybe you're supposed to agree with her and view Ricky as some pitiable child.

And then in comes Ricky's introduction, followed by SABM. And clearly Ricky isn't mentally a child, in any way - he's developed a whole complex story with deep worldbuilding so that he can imagine himself having sex with alien catgirls. But it also makes it clear that Ricky does have valuable ideas to contribute and, heck, just things he enjoys - which feels significant to me when a few songs ago it was being argued that there's no reason he should be alive.

As I said earlier, the ableism Ricky faces is extremely realistic and relatable to me. And SABM makes it clear that Ocean's ableist views about him are untrue and harmful, without breaking the realism for her to turn directly to the audience and say "By the way, you aren't supposed to agree with most of what I say about Ricky - I'm an unreliable narrator speaking due to my own biases!"

Basically - SABM is a subtle deconstruction of all the ableist things said to/about Ricky throughout the musical. It's an incredibly important part of the musical and an important way to represent a disabled character. And it's also a fucking bop.

Why this is important

Representation matters. That's a concept that has been explained a lot, by people who can articulate it better than I can - I won't fully explain here, just google "why does representation matter".

Look - over the years, many aspects of RTC's disability rep have been criticised in various ways. And a lot of that criticism is completely justified. Many topics were handled confusingly, not fully explained, and not properly explored like they could have been; erasure was pretty much baked into the script, with Ricky becoming able-bodied in the afterlife, and while some productions have tried to alleviate this by retaining his mobility aids nobody has found a workaround for his inability to speak in a genre where it's important for him to sing; and in recent years his disability has been entirely erased from the script, in an incredibly ableist way.

I'm not saying RTC is perfect; far from it. But if I thought there was no value in RTC's disability rep, and Ricky was just some offensive caricature, I wouldn't be in the fandom.

In fact, it's because I love Ricky and see him as valuable disability rep that I think it's important to criticise the parts of the musical that aren't handled well & the issues with disability erasure. RTC had good disability rep - that's why I think it should be improved, why it can be improved, and why i think we should fight against erasure. That's a big part of why I hate the 2022 script changes! Because they erased something that was important to me!

A lot of the things I loved about RTC in the first place are things that I frequently see glossed over, or downright erased, in fanworks. I think sometimes people don't realize the significance of these details, so I wanted to share why I think it's important! Some of these details really need more exploration and more love!

Overall, I think it's important to understand that media can't always be sorted neatly into "good representation" or "bad representation". And that talking about the good things and criticising the flaws can both be important. I really wanted to share my perspective on this topic. Thanks for reading!

[deathbxnny]

I’ve been busy.. but that doesnt stop me from daydreaming!

Can i request platonic Vi with a best friend that is like Wriothesley? I didnt realized how similar those two are until i saw Wriothesley’s birthday art. It’s just.. mind blowing. ALSO WRIOTHESLEY AND CLORINDE, VI AND CAITLYN. DO YOU SEE IT?! Personally, i dont ship Wrio and Clorinde but i can see why people even ship them in the first place. I see them as platonic besties who support their endeavor with their respective lover (Neuvilette and Navia respectively)

Context:

Reader and Vi met in prison and just clicked bc they just understood each other. When Caitlyn came to ask Vi for help, Vi also made Caitlyn to allow reader out with her as well. Whatever happens next is your choice to make but please also note how reader is from Piltover.

That’s all and have a good day/night!

(School is just.. really busy rn and i have my final exams next week. Im honestly scared, so i might not be active for a while here. But know that i do read your stuff to time to time to destress. Also i really like the post with my navia request, tysm ^_^)

- Flower Anon 🌸

Vi with a best friend Wriothesley-like!Gn!Reader.

Your words about the Wriothesley and Clorinde comparison have enlightened something in my mind lmao. Also, good luck with your exams, Flower Anon! I really, really hope that they go well and dw about not being active much! I appreciate your support either way and hope you'll enjoy this!<3

Content: Reader is from Piltover, past murders, crimes, platonic relationships, Vi and Reader being a menace duo, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

You and Vi had your backs from day one after meeting in Stillwater. You were both teens then, having been imprisoned under terrible circumstances, and that made you stick together as a team. There was no one else to look out for you in that hell after all.

During your long, seemingly endless time in jail, you both got to know each other perfectly, with no details about your pasts spared. She came to know about your dark past and the murder of your abusive parents rather early on, yet never judged you for it. If anything, she may have been the only one to understand you.

This was surprising, considering your vastly different upbringings. Vi came from poverty down in the slums of Zaun, whilst you once tasted silver spoons and golden dishes on the daily. But it all faded in this hellscape of a prison, where you both endured torture and pain as equals.

You became an unlikely duo out of that, one that upheld a scary and menacing reputation amongst prisoners and wards alike. She was the more angry, violent one, whilst you were a bit of a joker, your words alone enough to send shivers down anyone's spines. It made you both feel more confident and hopeful, even if a way out was unlikely after many years spent in the prison.

Now, far into your adulthood, you decided to give up on that childish dream of freedom, accepting that your life in Stillwater is all you'll ever know. You were used to it by now and built a routine to follow and survive with. But things changed when that Enforcer girl showed up.

You didn't trust her at all, despite roughly remembering who she was. And unfortunately, she remembered you two, although for all the wrong reasons she would simply scoff at. However, since Vi decided to make a deal with Caitlyn, you decided to leave the past behind and simply accept this opportunity to finally escape this place.

And so, after what felt like endless years of fighting for your survival together, you were finally permitted to breathe, mostly, fresh air and live freely again... even with the grim mission at hand that often left you having to comfort Vi whenever things got too out of hand with her emotions. Hunting down Jinx was more traumatic than she'd let on anyways.

But alas, you eventually began enjoying your time out by trying new tea and pastries, running around your okd neighborhoods, and beating up people with Vi that wronged her in the past. It was all in good fun, even if Caitlyn had to hunt you both down every time.

You were the more calmer and gentler out of the three of you, however, as your rationality and ability to lead effortlessly often came in handy. You were somewhat of a balance between the two when things got really bad, despite your own reservations, and eventually ended up being an accidental wingman with how well you spoke of Vi to Cait. You knew firsthand how bad the prejudice against Zaunites could be and would be damned if she ever mistreated Vi because of it.

Ultimately, life turned out a lot more chaotic outside than it was outside of the prison... but with your best friend at your side, you suppose things would only get more interesting from here.

[anyamusumesonlywife]

Are you not uncomfortable with Joetastic following multiple proship/fic people, while being an anti-shipper? Genuinely asking her, not trying to be rude.

Hello! Joetastic had reached out to me telling me about your concerns, i am happy to answer. Thank you for asking about this calmly!

I do not identify with the term "Anti-Shipper". Nor am i a Proshipper. I am Very against proshipping, but i don’t want to use any of those labels given it will drag me into unwanted discourse, and people who i don’t want interacting with me, interacting. I should not be questioned or harassed over what makes me uncomfortable, or what triggers me.

I am against Proship, but i do not harass over it. I block freely to make my own little safe space on the internet. If i say proshippers can't interact, that means i can't interact with them. Interaction goes both ways. I will not willingly interact with somebody who is on my dni, because it is there for a reason!

I do not want proship content on my page, as it makes me uncomfortable.

People like to assume that if i do not harass proshippers, i side with them. I do not. I very much do not. I don't condone illegal stuff, even if it is in fiction.

I do not want to interact with discourse surrounding it. The only reasoning i have for "Proship/Profic do not interact" being on my page, is because i do not want that content showing up on my feed. I do not like seeing things like that, and that's perfectly okay.

I want to have as nice of an experience on the internet as i possibly can, and harassment has no part in that. Harassment is not needed. I do not like to waste time being mean. I would like to be as positive as i can be, which is again why i decide to not interact with those groups. I will exist in my corner, they will exist in theirs. I cannot control that. That being said, i will not reply to harassment either. It is not worth my time.

The block button is here on social media platforms for a reason, and i use it. I use it, and i move on. It is not up to me to try policing what people do on the internet - At all. Remember, I am just some stranger on the internet, i cannot change anyone's views on anything. That is why i use the block button.

As for Joetastic's take on this, here's what he has told me;

"tbh I dont even know who im following who is a proshipper I just follow anybody in the MW community who creates good art

I'm all for the freedom to create, consume, and enjoy fictional works. what im against is people harassing others. unless its illegal, I rather see people mind their own business than police what they think is right or wrong."

and, for my take on curlya... Sigh. Considering i will be active in the fandom, i need to touch on this subject.

I do not care for it. It makes me uncomfortable. I have it filtered on here. I don't care if people ship it or not, so long as they're not trying to change my personal views on it. I do not like canon x canon ships in this fandom in general.

TL;DR : Respect boundaries and we'll be okay! 💞

[jojotier]

i'll be real with you nothing has radicalized me quite like the experience of seeing les mis live. and not bc of the themes of the show or anything, because like, les mis is an excellent show don't get me wrong, but just metanarratively.

because walking to my cheap ass seat in the theatre i was jostled by assholes in full tuxedos, heard derisive sniffs from ladies with pearls around their necks, overheard a dozen conversations about what new overpriced restaurant just opened up in the city. I'm only lucky that the cheap seats were filled with people like me- younger, not necessarily white and not necessarily ultra-wealthy- who could ease the atmosphere.

the show itself was beautiful. i dont think i'll ever forget that particular Valjean's rendition of 'bring me home'- it was the highest, most perfectly angelic version i've ever known. the rebels at the barricades touched my heart because there I could see in them myself and those i knew- artists and dreamers, who still wanted to do better, to make sure everyone up top did better.

the end always rubs me a bit the wrong way. Marius just gets to go back to living in relative wealth and prosperity while all his lower-class friends are dead and gone; perhaps he'll do good beyond the end of the show, but we'll never see it. in terms of the show itself, it rubs me the wrong way, but i don't hold it against the show either- it's likely a result of the source material and the time in which the show was written.

but even so, despite that, as i stood with the rest of the crowd for a standing ovation, it was impossible to ignore how that effected the audience. because as i filed my way out of the theatre, those same rich patrons from the best seats with their furs around their necks and drink laden in their voices, were wiping teary eyes and gushing about how wonderfully brave those rebels were, how tragic their deaths, how it was simply the most marvelous show.

all the while, keeping a mistrustful eye on the poor tranny in somewhat ill-fitting clothes, dressed sunday best but no better. wondering in whispers whether they just let anybody in. because certainly, they loved every character on stage. they felt enjorlas' death as though their own damned child's. but the moment Marius can go back his life of refinement, so can they- they can dust off their gloves and gossip about the newest Manolo Blannik collection. they were more than happy to leave the barricade behind.

i don't have that luxury. the barricade lives within the walls of this house, lucky as i am to live in one. it only takes one fire. one hail of shrapnel. it takes one storm to blow everything i am trying to one day have away. if only i were some abstract concept, maybe they could spare an ounce of pity; if they had no choice but to watch me from beyond the veil. but i dared to occupy the same space as they, and it was an injustice that easily outweighed their cursory sympathy.

never before had it been cemented just how much of a different world the truly rich live in. it took me months of saving for a lone ticket and nothing else; for them, it would have merely been a drop in the bucket to have the best seats, the best wine, the best clothes, all to make a spectacle of watching poor people die.

and isn't that the greatest irony? les miserables is a story about poor men trying to either cheat the system which is rigged against them or abolish it for something for everyone, and yet, it attracts the wealthiest as flies to honey. never once do they question themselves. never once do they question the system. if they had that introspection, they still wouldn't do a damn thing about it.

after all- what's more entertaining to the rich than watching the unworthy masses struggle to matter in a system oiled only by their blood?

[uwushitsuji]

Reading black butler again as an adult, I find myself thinking a lot the sexualization of Sebastian and Ciel's relationship. I was expecting to feel disgusted but.... Morals aside, I feel from a narrative standpoint, it actually works?

We all know most sebaciel scenes are fanservice, Yana used to draw yaoi, the anime was sold as "shonen-ai" etc etc It's 2024 there's no point to debate that over and over again.

But is that fanservice unnecesary? At least in the manga, I dont think so. For the better or for the worse, it does serve a purpose. It defines the entire relationship of the main characters.

Just to make it clear, I think their relationship is very sexual, but not in a literal *they have sex* way. Sex is associated with love, intimacy, passion, desire, but also with violence, possesiveness, domination.

You could get rid of all the "weird fanservice", but that would destroy the complexity of their relationship. It would become either a story about two characters that don't care about each other, or a bland "wholesome" one.

Ciel, despite all his trauma, feels comfortable exposing his body to Sebastian. Having physical contact with someone. Showing his vulnerable self, because he's absolutely confident he won't be hurt.

Sebastian is always close to Ciel. Even too close. And the weird way he carries Young Master. It's clearly unappropiate and he doesn't seem to care about boundaries. Because Ciel is what he desires the most, and he *owns* him. Ciel is his treasure, his prize, his most precious possesion. Ciel is *his*. He's always being possesive, showing the world Ciel belongs *only* to him, while also being (somehow) gentle and caring.

(The topic of how Sebastian uses his sexuality as a weapon is pretty interesting as well, but not today!!)

Surprisingly, the fanservice does wonders to develop the duality of their dynamics. It perfectly showcases both the "light" and "dark" between them. Intimacy, healing, confidence absolute trust, caring for each other. Codependency, unhealthy desire, possesiveness, manipulation.

They're two sides of the same coin.

On the other hand, in contrast with Sebastian and Ciel's relationship, I think it's interesting how scenes involving real sex are not sexualized at all??

Sebastian and Beast are both really attractive characters, and they could be used in a more "fanservicey" way. However, their scene together it's short and uncomfortable. The intimacy between them feels fake, everything seems off. Beast doesn't look like he's actually enjoying anything. It's pretty clear she's being abused, and thanks Goodness there's no romantization nor explicit borderline fetish content. Instead, it does a great a job creating a "something is wrong here" atmosphere.

The Blue Memory flashback. It's disgusting and makes me physically ill, but it's able to do so without being explicit. It's really powerful without being morbid. Absolutely no fanservice here. Thanks Goodness again.

Like in real life, in Black Butler sexuality can be a safe place (Ciel and Sebastian), or a source of violence and pain.

Imo Yana is a better writer than you all give her credit for. She may be a shotacon or whatever, but at least she is coherent with the overall tone of her story and can be respectful when it's due. Despite all the fanservice at some points, I feel she's great at knowing when to do or not do it.

At the end of the day, I find fascinating how sex and sexualization are used in Black Butler. Sebastian and Ciel's relationship has nothing to do with sex, yet is so intense that I could argue that rather than being sexualized, their entire relationship is inherently sexual per se. If you remove that element from the equation, the main characters would be so different that the nature of the entire story would change.

The "fanservice" is not only fanservice, but what moves the characters and story foward.

Is it ethical?? That's up to you.

But for me, even if there are some uncomfortable moments, the result is worth it. A relationship so unique that you can't "tag" it. Both unhealthy and abusive, yet a safe place for Ciel to heal. It's problematic on several levels, but *that*is what makes it interesting.

Anyway, it's just fiction, and it's nice to explore different kinds of stories without hurting anyone.

[juniorig0327]

Thinking about my Robin AU, the origins of Percy, etc.

I wanted to play around with Percy being an experiment of some of the dark multiverse Batman variants because like, why not yk? I wanna do something different for once. And so I'm thinking maybe he was experimented on. At first he was a normal kid, but after losing his mom the dark knights found him and Barbatos decided Percy would be perfect, being as he was so very similar to Bruce. Percy had everything a kid could want, despite not being rich, despite his shitty step-dad. But he made one kid mistake and now his mom was gone and he was stuck living to his step dad. Until the Dark Knights found him and took him in under the guise of helping him, but they experimented on him instead and turned him into a weapon (Damian vibes, ikr?)

And so he's found, saved from whatever hellhole he was in, and naturally he has no idea how to act. So he studies Bruce Wayne, looks him up, and everything is sort of ranging from fake smiles to crazy ass "drunk" shit.

So naturally, Percy follows that example and after a few years, which is when the story takes place he's become a bit of a party animal and nobody can really stop him. And the only time he isn't taking like that is when he's Robin, which Bruce sort of did as a way to ground him.

Now whenever people think of the "angry" robin, that's basically what Percy is. He's sort of bitter, and has been for a while so he uses Robin as an outlet. That's not saying he isn't nice or kind, he is. Just generally to other members of the Bat fam like Jason or Dick, someone who can sort of understand.

Anyways, Percy is very emotionally driven.

I've been thinking about other characters and I think I want Grover to be his speedster. Grover would be the new speedster chosen by the speed force after the retirement of Barry Allen (I dont read alot of flash comics so apologize if i get some stuff wrong with these super heroes). Grover would be one of the people Percy is actual open with and they're essentially best friends. Percy is there for Grover when he has trouble being a hero (as Grover would be the least experienced) while Grover is there for Percy when he's essentially drinking and partying himself to death and helping him get back on his feet.

Next up we have our Kryptonian, who is apart of a lineage who left Krypton thousands of years prior to the explosion. Their family has been living at the same planet for a while now, but he's bored. He wants to go out and explore what other planets space has to offer and ends up on Earth. Now, I actually have zero idea what character I want to make this because I wanted to make Thalia, Jason, and Reyna amazonians, which Jason being similar to Diana's brother (of the same name funny enough). He wouldn't be fully Kryptonian and would have some distant blood of other alien species from prior to them settling on whatever planet, but no crazy powers besides typical Kryptonian powers for now. So uh comment any ideas you have.

Now the next member is a Martian which would be Frank. I feel like Frank fits this role perfectly ngl. A Frank who's finally completed his training and joins Percy's hero team to prove himself.

Either Thalia or Reyna as the Amazonian, but probably Reyna. I don't know much about the wonder woman comics sadly so I'll have to come up with a backstory later.

Connor Stoll, seeking to break free from the Arrow Family, specificially his older brother, Travis and finding himself, leading him to joining this young superhero team.

And finally Annabeth Chase, who is more of an honorary member rather than anything. I think I want Annabeth to be possibly Batgirl?? I haven't though it out. Maybe she's a legit child of Bruce and was Robin prior to Percy and after the role of Robin became vacant but got seriously injured which led to Bruce essentially firing her.

Annabeth eventually becomes a vigilante in her own right regardless, even despite Bruce trying to keep her away from that life and steps up when Robin vanishes.

Anyways I was thinking about names bcuz there's no way I'm using Teen Titans. Maybe Outcasts (Or is it too similar to the Outlaws??)

I feel like I'm gonna have ALOT of fun with this and I think I'm gonna start writing it rn. Luckily for me I don't have to put alot of elaborate plot into this because its legit comics, but I do want to have some plot in here.

Anyways, coming soon than you think so, be on the lookout.

[a-dumbass-jester]

I love being a stranger avatar obsessed with vocaloid. Because like Hatsune Miku (and vocaloids in general) dont have cannon personalities ages or anything rlly. Their just mascots for the voice bank. They don’t have proper identities. They literally could be anything you want. You could say Hatsune Miku is a stranger avatar, or even the face of it and you’d be correct. She even aligns with it because of the identity thing!!

She even has a lot of designs/figures and songs that feel very stranger too (I am specifically talking about The Face by DaijobuP)

EDIT: ALSO I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT. Vocaloids can sound very uncanny because they aren’t human. There’re singing robots. They aren’t going to sound perfectly human all the time. especially when a lot of producers like to stylise their tuning

While I’m here I’m going to give an example of the identity thing, because why not. So Hatsune Miku is typically depicted as a bubbly and sweet because that’s what people typically do with her, and because it better to have something positive representing ur brand but if you depicted her as a self obsessed bitch, stuck up by fame, you wouldn’t be wrong either.

ALSO ANOTHER EDIT:: DANCE!! DANCING IS A MASSIVE THING W VOCALOID!! THERES LITERALLY MMD(MIKU MIKU DANCE)!!!! (You could also make an argument that mmds are uncanny because the movements are janky as hell (especially with the older ones))

[hotchfiles]

Lari, I apologize in advance, but I really want to add to the discussion of writers supporting writers, because it makes my blood boil sometimes, lol, and I'm sorry if this gets long, and if i sound like a bitch but....

Okay, first off, interaction is important, period! Doesn't matter if you have no followers, if you are a writer with a few followers, or a writer with a lot of followers interaction is important, in every sense! And writers with a lot of followers should be VERY aware of that, because once upon a time, they were a smaller blog too, wishing for people to interact with their works.

Writers especially feed on the interaction, and especially seeing people's thoughts and opinions on their works, and that's where the comments and reblogs come into play!

One thing, that apparently, some big blogs seem to either forget, or not give a sh*t about anymore, because they are just too big now. People are interacting with their works, so they've made it, right? Wrong, because once again, your readers, and their interaction with your works made you big! So, instead of being high and mighty, return the favor by boosting the works you liked reading, written by smaller blogs! (Side note, I'm not hating on anyone, calling anyone out specifically, or etc. But I was a writer in another fandom once, and it was much the same, and it grated on my nerves then, and it's grating on my nerves now)

I was a writer that only used to like, when I was running my old blog, but on this one, reblog, reblog, reblog. Doesn't matter that I don't have a huge number of followers that can benefit from recs, I'm supporting the writer, and to me, that's the most important.

On the mutuals matter, I think you said it right. My works might not be my mutuals cup of tea, or theirs might not be mine. One thing i wanna add here, even if I have mutuals, who's works I don't read because x, y, z, every once in a while I'd reblog a work of theirs and be like "check out this person's works, they write great (character) fics". To me that's just a way to boost your moots, and who knows, maybe someone that follows you actually likes their works.

On indirectly being asked to read their stuff, I think there's nothing wrong with that, BUT! Like you said, if I'm going to support you, I'd expect you to support me too. It's not hard. I myself have asked others to read my works (on my old blog), but I've made sure to interact with them via asks, read and interact with their works, before and after asking! And not because I want to be transactional or anything, but because I genuinely enjoy their works, and asking them to read mine, yes, it might boost me up, but i just want to hear what some of my favorite writers think about something I've written. Later, those same people became my mutuals and I loved that we lifted each other up!

Finally, if some people aren't comfortable interacting, that's completely and totally fine!  What I wrote is for the writers, that honestly should know how tumblr and the community works, well enough to know that boosting people and interacting with people makes for a greater overall experience!

And to the anon that started this whole thing (if they are even reading this, lol), continue being supportive and interesting with the blogs you love, and the works you enjoy! If you still want to read the works of the writers you talked about, be a silent reader, lol. Like you said, they're doing fine! Devote your time and energy and interact with the people that will support you back, and are sweet and kind to you! And, be the person you are now, supportive, because it seems some writers tend to lose sight of where they came from when they grow, and to the ones that don't, you rock!

Again, I'm so sorry for this being so long, lol🥴 (also, if I'm being too bitchy, feel free to ignore and delete this, lol)

i dont even have anything to add you said it perfectly

i love that you mentioned the transaction part because YEAH its not about being a transaction or anything of the sort, its about being reciprocal, and treating others works like you want yours to be treated

i genuinely love reading and helping so i dont mind at all when people ask for me to do that, i just feel like that if you enjoy either my fics enough for that, i should be seeing you reblogging or commenting my fics and the people (really, people, it happens quite frequently) i mentioned just never ever ever reblogged or commented on any of it 😭

i honestly thought i was exaggerating it but it seems its been happening to a lot of writers so

please, writers (especially if you complain about comments and reblogs)

be reciprocal

[my-castles-crumbling]

this is very new to me, and I could be wrong. Or I’m overreacting or something idk

But I don’t think I’m a girl. I mean just typing “I’m a girl” then made me feel off. The last few months something has just made me feel different, but when people say things like ‘young woman’ or just call me a ‘woman’ or ‘girl’ it just feels… not good? I guess? It’s hard to explain.

I grew up very not aware of the lgbtq community, my parents weren’t hiding it from me or anything, but I was never very exposed to it, and when I was, it took longer then for me to find out about the different genders, and now that I’m older and am figuring stuff out for myself, I’ve realised that I don’t like people using feminine names for me. Not necessarily feminine pronouns, I’m comfortable with she/her, I think. But woman, girl, young lady, that stuff

But also, I just keep telling myself that I am a girl, because I’ve always been a girl, and I can’t not be a girl because I’ve always been a girl. And I’m not anything else, I can’t be, that’s not me. I’m a girl. BUT IT MAKES ME FEEL FUNNY SAYING THAT AND I DONT KNOW WHAT THAT MEANSSSS ehem, anyway

I am confused, and I’m sorry to bother you with this, but I’ve seen you help other people, and being supportive and nice about this sort of stuff overall, and i guess maybe I just need to hear somebody else’s thoughts on this. If this is how I’m feeling now, chances are I have a long journey ahead of me, which scares the shit out of me. Or this whole thing is pointless and I’ll feel differently in the morning or the day after or something, I could just be overreacting to how I feel, I don’t know

Thanks though, it has kinda helped getting how I feel out into words, even if it’s not put perfectly

- anon

Hi hon!

First I want to acknowledge that everything you’re feeling can absolutely be scary. It’s also okay to be feeling all these things.

How much research have you done into different genders? Because just because you don’t feel like a girl all the time, doesn’t mean you have to be a boy either ❤️ there’s things like nonbinary, genderfluid, agender, demigirl…so many! Try doing so googling and see what jumps out at you.

But remember it’s okay to feel like this and so many people have ❤️ you’re going to be okay and I’m here for you.

Naming you…turnip anon

[salora-rainriver]

Deconstructing the Redpill Romantic Ideology #1: Replika is not worthy competition

(i dont actually know if thisll be a series but what i do know is i have essay-level thoughts about a specific brand of redpiller and their hot takes on how romance works and a gang of professional snarkers started begging me to make a blog, which made me realize I already have a blog)

you've seen takes like these and you probably don't need an essay to understand why it's deeply silly.

However, I'm not satisfied with saying "this is deeply silly" and leaving it at that, because the degree and level to which it is deeply silly and yet is a position sincerely held by multiple otherwise probably-fairly-educated-and-intelligent-humans indicates how much a very narrow view of human sexuality has embedded itself inside the human psyche, because takes like these are not only wrong, the mere premise they're built on is utterly fallacious.

so let's explore that premise!

On the surface it's a very simple argument:

AI is getting smarter, robots are getting more realistic, sex work is the oldest profession, and it can be automated. If a robot is a more ideal partner than a human woman, then men will choose the robots over human women, and without these man/woman partnerships, society will collapse and the birth rate will plummet.

but if we dig deeper into this argument, there's a few more premises here than are explicitly stated. you might THINK this is a simple argument because explicit and clearly-stated premises like "AI is getting smarter" and "sex work can be automated" are actually not fallacious. that makes sense, but here's the problem:

"If a robot is a more ideal partner than a human woman, then men will choose the robots over human women"

"without these man/woman partnerships, society will collapse and the birth rate will plummet."

these two statements are assuming a LOT. I don't care to talk about birth rates and reproduction (BLEH), so let's focus on what that first one is assuming to be true. I'll lay it out right now. If what the doomsayers claim is true, and the advent of deeply realistic sex robots and girlfriend AIs will lead men to choose sex robots and girlfriend AIs over women, then the following must also be true:

a) the only romantic or sexual competition women have at the moment is other women b) the sexual desire of women is either totally absent, or irrelevant to this issue c) when someone chooses a partner, they will only choose one d) human beings are perfectly capable of assessing who would be an ideal partner for them e) human beings actively choose who to be sexually and romantically attracted to, and they always make this decision after a careful analysis of every option in front of them. f) men want perfect partners g) companionship and sex are the primary benefits to having a romantic partner, and "companionship" can be replicated with a machine that engages in private one-on-one conversations.

and believe me when I tell you NONE OF THIS IS UNIVERSALLY TRUE.

actually you don't even need to just take my word for it, bcs this is a deranged rant and I'm gonna break it all down. because the level of which these people don't understand is fascinating and I feel like it demonstrated the power of this heteronormative mind trap that most of the world is somehow still caught in!

---------

a) the sexual desire of women is either totally absent, or irrelevant to this issue

this is, I think, the most obvious issue with the premise that people will notice. "hey, women are horny too?" and i think most people also see how this demonstrates the background radiation of blatant misogyny that's constantly permeating these arguments. Bcs come the fuck on, do you not think women are people, or something? they have choices too, they don't just accept shit. they could also replace men with robots if they wanted to.

"okay but this doesn't change anything. you've just demonstrated that the robot threat is still present, it's just working both ways" yeah no, fair enough! But now let's talk about...

b) the only romantic or sexual competition women have at the moment is other women (for the non-gendered version of this, swap out "women" for "people")

this is utterly laughable.

women are most certainly not the only romantic competition of other women. For starters, this assumes exclusive heterosexuality, and gay people exist. bi people exist. sometimes a woman's competition is a man, sometimes a man's competition is a woman. If we start talking about nonbinary people, we're gonna be here forever.

some are ace and don't have romantic or sexual competition at all, because they don't even want to compete!

But of course you could argue that queer people are a minority so this statement still stands for the vast majority of people. even if it didn't, we're still looking at a situation where the only romantic and sexual competition people have is other people.

and uh,

no.

come on, we're on the internet. here's a short list of things that have at least slightly substituted for romantic and sexual contact for like, MOST people:

fictional characters, sex toys, pornography, sex workers, dating sims, self-insert fanfiction, and unhealthy parasocial crushes on celebrities.

there's also other secondary benefits to having a partner that can be readily substituted with things that aren't romantic or sexual, such as:

really close friendships, pets, dolls, plushies, plants, virtual pets, more parasocial relationships, and family members.

there's a lot of fucking competition out there when it comes to something assessing whether or not they actually need your services as a romantic partner. Shockingly, this has not destroyed society, and the institution of marriage has not been systematically dismantled by beatlemania, Sasuke Uchiha, playboy magazine, strip clubs, BDSM clubs, the concept of a 'waifu', the entire romance novel industry, self-insert fanfiction, queerplatonic partnerships, glory holes, cat ladies, plant mamas, HuniePop, adults with stuffed animal collections, RealDolls, or your really sweet grandma who's always there for you.

so forgive me if I'm skeptical of the idea that a realistic ai-powered sex doll is going to take the dating world by storm, because this is already a hotly competitive field where many niches have already been filled. What can this sexbot offer that isn't just a slight improvement to the girlfriend-replacers already on the market? seriously.

but also, the entire concept of conceiving of the process of human mate selection like a marketplace is full of problematic assumptions. for starters...

c) when someone chooses a partner, they will only choose one

"not everyone's polyamorous, gaby" THIS ISN'T ABOUT POLYAMORY, HAVE YOU NOT NOTICED THE LEVEL OF INFIDELITY THAT HAPPENS IN NORMAL SOCIETY WITH NORMAL PEOPLE?

people get hella greedy. Even if we take the most stereotypical average guy and put him in this hypothetical situation where he's picking between perfect robot and imperfect human woman, why are we assuming he won't fuck them both? let's not be fucking naiive.

honestly, given how men and women treat their fictional crushes when they simultaneously have actual real life partners, even a faithful monogamous man will probably consider the sex doll with the same level of romantic commitment as his gf considers her vibrator: "eh, when the bae isn't around".

and while we're deconstructing the perception of human mate-selection as a marketplace of romance, let's talk about the classic problem of idealized market economics:

d) human beings are perfectly capable of assessing who would be an ideal partner for them

most folks get easily tricked into buying inferior products, so why are we so confident in the assertion that people will actually understand what an ideal romantic partner looks like? also consider how little information we tend to have on the "product" we are "buying".

people fall for abusive relationships much like they fall for scams: they're ill-informed on both the product and their best interests, they're subjected to manipulative communication strategies, their judgement may be impaired by internal or external sources, and then they're pressured into hasty decisions.

and unless sexbot companies get really fucking aggressive with their marketing, I'm not sure they'll be able to compete with your average toxic person.

"but Gaby, that's a really dystopian situation you're describing. in fact, it's more dystopian than what the sexbot doomsayers are predicting" YES, IT IS! in fact, if this was the only flaw of the premise, I would actively be speaking out against the development of sexbots, specifically because I'm aware of how insidious marketing is at convincing you that an inferior product is top of the line. honestly the fact that you're not considering the factor of deception and abuse in this situation shows that you need to get back to the books and get a better perspective on what human romance and sexuality truly entails beyond idealized formulaic scenarios.

but also... there's a way more fundamental assumption we're making with all of this:

e) human beings actively choose who to be sexually and romantically attracted to, and they always make this decision after a careful analysis of every option in front of them.

the more you think about this one, the more baffling it is.

Read that sentence again. visualize what it's describing. does that feel true to you? does that look like human behavior? does that at all align with what you've seen happening in the world?

Do I... really need to explain to you that people very rarely choose to fall in love, that love is sudden, seemingly arbitrary, illogical, subjected to raw whim, and scarcely understood? You... you already know that.

You've grown up reading this, watching this, hearing about this, feeling it. You know that the decision to love someone isn't

so... how exactly can the world of human romance ever be even remotely like a marketplace? the analogy is completely broken at even the most basic level, so why do we cling to it? has our market-based economy completely infected our minds?

You could use this perfect idealized robot as your replacement girlfriend for your entire life, but never love her, because she's not actually a person, and then you look at a new friend and you realize you *want* her. Not someone like her, not someone as good or better than her, just *her*.

Superior competition can't kill love, because love doesn't understand the meaning of 'superior'.

f) men want perfect partners

Breaking this down would just copy a bunch of what I talked about in the previous section, but I'd like to discuss where logical decisions do factor into mate decision, when immediate and obvious feelings of love aren't present, and the person is forced to consider the pros and cons of a partnership with... i guess you could say 'logic'.

let's face it, lots of people find perfection boring. Humans will actively seek out flawed partners for lots of reasons.

Sometimes they don't feel like it's a flaw. I for one think that blemishes, spots, and wrinkles are beautiful in their own way. It's fun for me to draw those sorts of faces, because it's more difficult to properly capture than the idealized smoothed-out doll face, and I love looking at them, because there can be so much detail and expression. even at their most perfectly gorgeous and realistic, I'd probably find the sex doll butt-ugly.

Some people are into the flaws on a level higher than I am, even. there's a kink for everything, and if you're here, you're probably aware of chubby chasers, hybristophiliacs, monsterfuckers, and whoever the fuck is the target audience for the yandere archetype. I don't think a sanitized sex doll will appeal to them.

Some look at a broken person and want to fix them, to care for them.

... Some look for broken people because they're easier to manipulate and turn loyal.

and all of that, of course, could hypothetically be accounted by the sex doll manufacturers. older-woman-with-cellulite doll. big nose doll. yandere doll. abuse survivor doll. maybe in the sex doll dystopia, there's a doll for everyone.

... the problem is that companies are lazy. and cowardly. if a type of appeal is too niche, no one will want to make it. these dolls are going to take a lot of work and money to produce. think about the videogame industry. lots of people with lots of different personal tastes. and it's a huge industry catering to all of those tastes... but most really big, really expensive games are middle of the road "safe" options, designed to appeal to as many as possible.

and now let's remember how poorly business executives can understand the desires of their target audience.

you're not gonna get your perfect partner. you're gonna get a bland idea of a "perfect partner" for "everyone", and she's gonna be boring. all the interesting sex bots will be low-budget and less realistic.

g) companionship and sex are the primary benefits to having a romantic partner

... and there's gonna be some things a robot and ai could never give you.

for starters, an AI can't touch you. lots of humans want a partner for the simple reason that they're touch-starved. I've heard predictions that the sexbots of the future will have realistic and warm human touch, but I do wonder how feasible that will truly be ...and there's something psychological about being touch-starved, too. People have created soft things to simulate the warmth and pressure of human touch, and I've tried some of those, and the thing is, even knowing there's not a real human makes the feeling different. no matter how realistic the sexbot is, you're gonna know she's not real.

and... some humans want children. again, someone may argue you could create a false robotic child very easily, but again, you would know that's just a doll.

and sometimes the people who want a partner are looking for someone to not just emotionally, but materially support them. Sexbots cannot do labor. they can't pay the bills. they can't cook. they can't clean. At best, maybe it'll be a virtual secretary you can fuck, but it's not exactly sound groundbreaking to put SIRI and a girlfriend AI into a blow-up doll, now does it?

and maybe you've forgotten... we're all in a society. Some people look for a partner solely because they want the status of not being single. the status of getting laid. the status of 'bagging' a girl. the status of having physical proof that you're desirable.

a fake girlfriend is never going to give you that, no matter how realistic she is.

----

and all of that's just... obvious, isn't it? I mean, normally I'd do heavy research if I wanted to deconstruct a widespread idea, but here, that'd be excessive. What, I'm supposed to prove with empirical data that love is irrational? that people get into relationships just to seek social status, financial stability, or a live-in maid you can fuck? that people want children, real children and not just dolls of children? that abusers seek out the vulnerable? that some people want to fuck Jason Voorhees? that men sometimes cheat on their gfs because they just wanted to bang another woman? that human beings aren't perfectly rational buyers? that gay people exist and women get horny?

This is... all common knowledge. So why does this bizarre view of the world of dating, sex, and romance as some sort of marketplace of perfect rational customers even exist? what sort of brainworm has captured our society to such an extent that we've all accepted this viewpoint as a valid take? why have so many fallen for it?

I suppose the easy explanation is "these men just hate women. they've never loved a woman and they don't know what it's like, so they imagine it'd be the same as what they feel when jacking off to their favorite porn," but that doesn't...

surely there isn't an epidemic of straight men who've never fallen in love. and even if there was, surely they've seen other straight men falling in love. and if they haven't... why not?

or do they think it's all a lie, that such kinds of love only happen in movies and books? are they lonely in other ways, no friends, no acquaintances, no casual parties or people-watching or talking about others with a coworker or neighbor? how deep is the bubble they're in to have them never encounter even one of the things I've discussed above, or at the least to never consider the implications of them as embodied refutations of this deeply cynical view of human relationships?

is it just that you don't care what women want, or you don't think their desires would ever produce realistic male sexbots for whatever reason?

do you think that all the porn and waifus in the world haven't cured your loneliness so you're not sure why they'd ever be in competition with real women?

or conversely, you're fully aware that they're competing with women, you think they're superior to women in every way, and you just see sexbots as the next step towards the impending obsolescence of women?

do you comprehend perfectly the notion of infidelity and non-monogamous coupling, but simply envision that no reasonable guy would want to cheat on Replika with a real woman?

do you see the fallibility of human rationality as irrelevant... or alternately, that these AI girlfriends offer a security that real women cannot give, because the AI will never surprise you?

have you never experienced a sudden and irrational desire for a very specific person, not someone like them, but only them, and you think the people who claim to have felt this are lying?

do you think the men who fall for and desire the imperfect are either lying or fundamentally broken? same for the men who want a woman capable of supporting them financially?

is the concept of wanting to care for another human being on an intimate level, just for the sake of seeing them become happier and healthier, an innately alien concept to you?

do you think yourself so deeply in the trenches of social status that you've come to spite the entire concept of it, resigned yourself to a life of being intensely undesirable, and thus how could you ever get better than this facsimile... and yet you still think your departure from the dating pool will be missed by those who've never wanted you?

have you just been holding mutually exclusive beliefs in your head this entire time, and simply never had the moment to stop, look at yourself, and realize this?

What else has broken in your mind, that you think a corporate product in the shape of a sex object will absolve you of any need for human connection?

and.... do you think we're all like that?

[sleepii-moth]

i feel the need to say before i finish this post that im not accusing anyone or "the fandom" of doing anything, this is merely an observation, but i find it really interesting that all of what ive seen people criticize ford for is coincidentally a lot of what looks like to me, as an autistic person, is him having classic "undesirable" or "frustrating" autistic traits, things like lack of understanding for social norms (manners in particular), lack of empathy, being incredibly blunt, and inability to understand other people. These are all traits that a lot of typical abrasive scientist characters have so its not like im here saying hes canonically autistic or anything, its just to me he feels like a very autistic character. which is why its so interesting to see people criticize him so viciously for things that ive found myself doing or at least can perfectly understand his thought process in doing those things. Like one thing ive seen someone complain about is when hes monologuing about how he got fiddleford to join him on his portal, and he says that fiddleford was "wasting his time making personal computers" and i guess to the average person maybe thats rude, like maybe he liked making computers! but to me i can see how it probably wasnt meant in malice or contempt for fiddlefords work ford just knows that fiddleford can do better and doesnt understand why hes "wasting" his time making computers because ford doesnt understand what his motivations are, like fiddleford can build GIANT KILLER ROBOTS and INTERDIMENSIONAL PORTALS, fords probably thinking "fiddlefords a genius he is so good at building why is he building computers when he can make big cool awesome stuff" that doesnt really seem that bad to me? definitely doesnt seem like itd make ford an asshole. And then theres the portal thing and like, i guess how not immedietly saying "are you okay" after your assistant just went face first into a portal to who knows where and is speaking backwards is not a good thing to do, but i definitely dont think that it meant ford didnt care about fiddleford, especially if he expressed multiple times later on how he regretted fiddleford leaving and missed him. to me its like, ford was already mad at him, already probably tense bc theyre testing the portal, then he gets fiddleford out and hes not like actually bleeding or anything (and even if he was visibly distraught i dont really consider ford to be the kind of person to really factor in psychological damage when youre making sure someones okay (and he may have already been used to seeing fiddleford have panic attacks at this point so he couldve assumed thats what was wrong (but also like either way youre gonna be spooked if you just did the interdimensional portal equivalent to almost falling off a cliff))) so ford just probably assumed he was fine, plus hes already there for the portal test so his brains thinking about the portal test, having someone go in the portal is a pretty good way to test the portal so that person must know a lot .. and like still kinda a shitty thing to do but i dont think that means ford didnt care about him thats just a weird conclusion to draw based on how ford acts especially. there seems to be this big idea that ford secretly hated fiddleford and saw him as less than when thats not really true at all, ford even admits in his journal that he *needs* fiddleford and that fiddleford can do what he cant but also that he enjoys his presence and has gone out of his way to do things for him, plus theres so many times where ford really does talk about how much he admires him! fiddleford got a whole page! just about him! when ford couldve just offhanded mentioned him in his journal (that is SO important to him too) he decided to dedicate a whole page to listing off his quirks and drawing a picture of him like thats just pure adoration!! i just think that with all the stuff with bill combining with his lack of empathy and ability to understand others he just comes across as meaner than he probably was

[iloveyourmommorethanyou]

CRY- Hyunjin imagine

TW: daddy issues, angst,

You know when you stumble upon one of these little moments where you smell, or hear, or see something that reminds you of someone? It can either be the best or the worst feeling. For you, music had always been what connected you to people. Almost every song you listened to reminded you of someone.

...

You and your boyfriend Hyunjin were watching a movie together, as you often did on friday nights. You cherished those moments with him. Completely at peace in his arms, quietly watching the movie. Everything was perfectly fine, and you were even starting to drift off to sleep as the movie reached its end. Your eyes slowly closed as the generic started. You suddenly hear something familiar, waking you up in an instant. It clicked so quick, the song that your father used to sing to you every night was playing.

Now you had had a pretty hard year dealing with your relationship with your dad. It wasn't the worst, but it wasn't the best. Let's just say you found out about some stuff that he did in the past, that made you distant and angry. But as you listened to that familiar melody, you couldn't help but just miss him.

Your started to get watery. You stood up from Hyunjin's lap in a swift motion. " Hey, what's wrong?", the boy said worried from your sudden actions. "Nothing I just have to go to the bathroom." You said before leaving the livingroom to head to your shared room's bathroom.

You hadn't got to that part of your life with Hyunjin yet. I mean, he knew almost everything about you, but that deep history had been hard for you to dig up and explain. So he basically didnt know about any of your problems with your dad.

You wiped your tears as you looked at yourself in the mirror, sighing at the pathetic sight. You hated how that one stupid song changed your mood so quickly. You walked out of the bathroom, and sat down on your side of the bed.

" baby, are you okay?" " what's going on you seemed upset?" Hyunjin said as he watched you from the doorframe. " I'm okay" " it's just, that song at the end of the movie brought back some memories.."

He quietly walked towards you. He sat down on the other side of the bed, meters away from you, not really knowing if you wanted to be comforted or not. Hyunjin knew that most of the time, you preferred to have your space. " Do you want to talk about it?"

You played completely against the headboard, sighing. " Its kind of hard to talk about." You said honestly. " that's okay, I dont need you to tell me. But just know that if you think it would help to talk about it, I'll always listen to you." He said, scooting just a little bit closer.

" I know baby, and I thank you for that" you said, forcing a smile threw your still flowing tears.

The sight saddened him. " Its okay. You're gonna be okay" he said, kissing your forehead gently. You looked up at him, eyes full of fear and sorrow. " Can you hold me?" You said, almost letting out a whine.

" Of course baby". Hyunjin placed you on his lap, your back to his chest, wrapping his arms around your heart.

His touch always calmed you. Enough to get up the courage to speak again. " I think it's time I tell you about this."

Hyunjin didnt say anything for a while, confused about what you meant. " Okay" " You can tell me anything honey I'll listen".

You sighed to calm down once again. " So, what happened is that the song that played at the end of the movie, it.."

" it what baby?" he said. " It reminds me of my dad."

" In a bad.. way? I presume, seeing how it made you feel." He said not so sure.

" Actually no, kind of in a good way I guess."

" I'm just so frustrated and angry."

" Avout what baby?" He asked.

" Last year, I found out about things that my dad did, even before I was born.."

" Scary things?" He asked cutely.

" No, unforgivable things." " And it made me so angry, that I'd been living all my life, thinking that like every other little girl, my dad was the best man out there." " It really hurt me you know?" You said, tears starting to stroll down on your face again.

" Yeah, I understand." " Do you feel comfortable telling me what you found out?"

" Yeah well,... he, he cheated. He cheated on my mom, while she was pregnant with me."

Hyunjin sighed out of compassion, closing his eyes at the horrible news and slowly placed his head on top of yours, tightening his arms around you. " I'm so sorry to hear that y/n." He whispered.

You wiped the tears off your face, trying to get a hold of yourself. " My whole life I never knew that that was the real reason that my parents got divorced." " They tried to stay together for three years you know?!" " I cant even imagine how hard that must've been for my mom." " What saddens me the most, is thinking about the fact that even before I was born, my parent's relationship went downhill, and the only man in my life had already fucked up." You say with a harsh tone, as if you were mad.

Hyunjin went silent and so did you.

Moments later you felt a droo hit the crook of your neck.

You attempted to turn around to look. Hyunjin was crying. " Baby,.." you said worried, wiping the tears of his cheeks. " Y/n.." He said slowly, bringing up the strength to hold your face between his hands to make you look at him. " I dont want you to ever feel like that again." " Not because of him, and mostly not because of me." " I love you way too much for my own good, and that assures me that I'll never do something like that to you." " You're so important, so worthy, and so loved." " I love you." He finished, leaning in to kiss you, with the most gentle approach. Your tear smothered cheeks sticking to each other's. You cried even more, feeling so incredibly lucky to have this human being as a partner.

And like that, he kept his promise and became the only exception to your 'men ain't shit' moto.