#people do not care how good your experience is

[im-so-normal-iswear]

HELLO!

May I request a Yandere Sonic, Shadow and Silver (seperate) with a fem reader where comes from a different reality where they are fictional and somehow the hedgehogs became attached and obsessed with reader, reader is very much aware of their behavior and is also one of the reasons why she wants to go home to her own reality fast.

Sending loves to youu!!🫶🏻🤍

A/n: poll on, so now I'm putting images, I couldn't find any good ones

Yandere triple s x reader

Sonic:

At first, you couldnct believe it, you were in Sonics world.

The rolling green hills, the endless loops, the vibrant colors of the world, it was surreal. And meeting Sonic? That was the best part.

He was exactly like you imagined. Charismatic, funny, energetic. You geeked out about meeting him, and he was amused by how much you already knew about him. Sonic took an immediate liking to you, eager to show you around and let you experience the world firsthand.

The first few days were a dream come true. Running through Green Hill Zone, meeting Tails, going toe-to-toe with Eggman (it was actually more like watching Sonic handle it while you stood on the sidelines). Everything felt like a perfect adventure, straight out of a game.

Then, things started getting... off.

It began subtly. Sonic insisted on staying close to you all the time. You figured it was just him being protective. After all, you were just a human, and this world was full of dangers. But the more time passed, the more suffocating it became.

He started pulling you away from the others, cutting conversations short when you were with Tails or Amy. At first, he made excuses, "Hey, let’s get outta here! I've got something way cooler to show ya!" but you quickly realized he was isolating you.you started getting weird dreams.

You dreamed of your real home, your reality, the place you desperately wanted to return to. But every time you woke up, Sonic was already there, sitting beside you with an unreadable expression.

"Another bad dream?" he asked, his voice casual.

When you admitted what it was about, his expression darkened.

"You really wanna go back, huh?" He leaned closer, his smile strained. "I don't get it. You've got me here. What's better than that?"

The moment you realized something was deeply wrong was when you tried asking Tails about ways to return home.

Sonic snapped.

One second, he was his usual self, the next, he had grabbed your wrist, his grip too tight.

"Why do you keep talking about that?" His voice wavered, his usual confident tone slipping into something more desperate. "Aren't you happy here? With me?"

You tried to reason with him, but his grip only tightened. His eyes, usually bright and full of life, had a wildness to them.

"You belong here now" he murmured, more to himself than to you.

From then on, he never left your side. Your freedom was a distant memory. Anytime you tried sneaking off to talk to Tails, Sonic was there. If you attempted to run, he caught you within seconds, always smiling, always acting like it was a game.

"Aw, c'mon, Y/N, you know you can't outrun me."

Every time you tried to bring up leaving, his mood shifted. His smiles became forced, his voice strained.

"Look." he eventually said one night, his voice eerily soft as he trapped you in his arms. "I don't care what reality you came from. This is where you stay."

No matter how fast you tried to run, Sonic would always be faster.

And he wasn't letting you go.

Shadow:

Unlike Sonic, Shadow wasn't immediately friendly.

He kept his distance when you first arrived in the world, observing you with narrowed, calculating eyes. He didn't trust you, not at first. You were an anomaly, something that shouldn't exist in his reality.

But as time passed, Shadow became curious about you. How did you know so much about him? Why did you seem so comfortable around him when most people feared him?

You intrigued him.

Slowly, he started spending more time around you. He was never openly affectionate, but he showed his care in small ways, keeping you close when woth others, ensuring you never strayed too far, glaring at anyone who got too friendly with you.

And then, one day, you mentioned wanting to go home.

Shadow froze.

"You want to leave?" His voice was cold, unreadable.

You explained everything, the fact that he and his world were fictional in your reality, that you had a life to return to. You expected him to be logical about it.

Instead, his expression darkened.

"No."

You turned back to him. "...No?"

Shadow stepped closer, his eyes burning into yours.

"You belong here. With me."

It wasn't a request. It was a statement.

That was when your nightmare truly began.

Shadow started following you everywhere, wether you were aware or not. Always watching, always near. If you ever tried to leave his sight, he'd appear within seconds, his expression always unreadable.

He sabotaged any attempt you made to leave. If you tried to seek help from Tails or Eggman, their machines mysteriously malfunctioned. If you ran, Shadow found you instantly, his Chaos Control ensuring you never got far.

He never hurt you, but his presence was suffocating. Every conversation ended the same way.

"You can't leave."

There was no reasoning with him.

Shadow wasn't keeping you here out of malice.

He was keeping you here because, to him, you were the only thing left worth protecting.

Even if it meant stealing your freedom.

Silver:

Silver was the sweetest at first.

He was kind, gentle, and eager to help you. When you arrived in his world, he was fascinated, your knowledge, your personality, your very existence intrigued him.

And for a while, everything was perfect.

Silver went out of his way to make you comfortable, ensuring you had everything you needed. He was protective, but not overbearing, at least, not at first.

But then, you mentioned going home.

Silver's expression fell, his ears flattening. "What...? You want to leave?"

You tried to explain, but his hands trembled as he grasped your shoulders.

"You can't leave." His voice wavered, his usual optimism crumbling. "I need you here."

From that moment on, Silver changed.

He became more desperate, always clinging to you one way or another, never being more than three feet from you.

Whenever you tried to argue, he just shook his head, pleading. "Please don't talk like that. I love you, Y/N."

He would do anything to keep you.

And if that meant trapping you in his world forever...

Then so be it.

[limethefirst]

Hi! How are you? I was looking for people writing movie shadow after I saw the movie and hoped I could submit a request for you? Can we maybe have shadow with a reader who is a alien hedgehog like him found after him? Shadow when he met the reader takes her in as his own and helps to in a way raise them. After the accident they both were put under statis and met up again in the base 50 years later after he and she had escaped?

Remember Me

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x Hedgehog!reader (platonic)

warnings: spoilers

summary: Shadow takes it upon himself to look out for you even after being frozen for 50 years

a/n: slowly getting back into the writing groove yes!! if i wrote things for other fandoms would you guys burn me at the stake or not❤️

Shadow was used to feeling alone, being the only alien hedgehog constantly surrounded by scientists who saw him as some type of experiment was draining. Of course he had Maria and for her he was forever grateful but she didn't understand how he felt, no one really could. Until you came along, another alien hedgehog that arrived the same way he did, and was now viewed just like he was.

By all means, Shadow, was not considered approachable. He was only ever willingly around Maria and Gerald, and even Gerald was often pushing it, but when you showed up it was hard to catch him alone. He was basically your caretaker, a task he gave himself after seeing how nervous you felt around everyone and how you weren't exactly sure how to regulate the powers you also had.

You sat next to Shadow as Maria put on a new movie she'd found, 'Godzilla', it was called. You didn't like it, it was about an alien, an evil one who destroyed a place on earth called Japan. It made you feel slightly, self conscious? Even though you yourself wouldn't do that or ever thought of committing violent acts against people. Shadow seemingly noticing your discomfort nudged you, drawing your attention away from the self deprivation you were feeling. He looked down at you, giving you a gruff nod, almost like he could read your mind.

His gaze never left your eyes, silently communicating. It was easy to tell what he wanted to say, 'You're not a freaky monster alien who will go and tear up Japan.' Or something along those lines.. the latter was funnier though. Maria glanced over at you two, noticing the subtle communication but also the slight sadness you both had inn your eyes. Although he didn't show it as much, Shadow felt slightly the same upon seeing the movie.

He knew that feeling all to well, he'd seen it, in the eyes of the scientists, guards, everyone who worked here. They thought he was dangerous, and he hated it. Which was why he was determined to make sure you didn't feel the same, because he wasn't sure if he could handle knowing that you also felt like you were a danger, something that was a weapon.

The nights dragged on, and he made sure to keep an eye on you, silently at least. He will never openly show how much he cares. He just will care, and that's good enough for him, although Maria could tell he cared.

Then that night came, where Maria was gone, and so were you. They'd taken Maria from him and grabbed you, pulling you away from him. God, he couldn't stand it, the tears that fell as you screamed for him. He would've tried to do something if it weren't for the fact he was in shock, he'd witnessed one of his closeted friends die in front of him and now he had to watch as they dragged you away, putting you in a small cage as your small hands tried to reach out to him.

Finally there was silence, it was restless, a restless silence that he had to endure for 50 years. Until he was woken up, and all that consumed him was rage. While on the other side of the containment chambers, you'd also woken up, but instead of feeling anger coursing through you, it was fear. You looked around the barren room, the alarms were sounding, and everything was flashing red, suddenly a loud thud broke your nervous train of thought.

You're eyes widened slightly as something punched down the wall, you stepped out of the tube that held you, the liquid used to keep you asleep was drained, leaving your quills wet. The dust slowly began to clear revealing a figure you longed to see since that dreadful night.

"Shadow?.." You're voice slightly trembled as you spoke that name, trying to see him through the red flashing room. Shadow looked at you, his gaze was unwavering but it slightly softened seeing that you were still alive, and unharmed.

He let out a small sigh, his shoulders untensing at your voice, "Let's go," it was rough but his eyes betrayed him. He was grateful, happy to see that you, at least, had survived. He wasn't going to let what happened to Maria happen to you, he swore on that, nothing would harm you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello Dorito!

Can you please write Bruce, Dick, Jason and Clark receiving a good luck kiss on the cheek from their crush before they go on a mission? I’m curious how they would individually react and what their thoughts would be. I thought it would be cute if it was pre relationship for some reason (*'ω'*)

Dick

The moment you kiss his cheek, dick just smiles softly.

‘What was that for?’ He’d ask, his thoughts going a mile a minute as to what this all meant in the long run of your relationships as he knew damn well friends didn’t kiss each other on the cheek…well unless they were close like that, but Dick typically knew it wasn’t and wanted answers before he left for the mission.

‘Good luck?’ You shrug.

‘Just good luck?’ Dick would tease, but on the inside he was hop in that this was going where he was thinking it was going, hoping he wasn’t reading anything you were putting down wrong as he didn’t want anything to be misconstrued or misinterpreted. He wanted this moment for so long and wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to having something worth coming home to; or someone worth coming home to after a long and intense mission.

Dick would look like he was confident and whatnot but on the inside he was more happier then he’s ever been in his entire life. He wanted to shout to the rooftops that he had been kissed on the cheek by the person he liked, but instead decided to play it cool and try to work his charisma into his favour with you in hopes of a date. He’s done being coy and dropping hints, the kiss on the cheek had to mean something to you as it did with him.

Jason

Blinks several times as his brain tries to accept that you did just kiss him on the cheek.

He reaches up to touch the cheek you kissed lightly as his insides were waging war with one another, he was glad that you made a move first as now Jason knew you had some liking towards him, especially if you were willing to go out of your way to kiss his cheek before he leaves for a mission.

This felt like something he had read out of many, many, many books that he never thought he himself would ever experience in his lifetime, and yet here he was being kissed on the cheek by the person who he had a raging crush on that felt like it came straight out of a movie. He’s aware of his crush on you, insanely so, but when you kissed his cheek he didn’t know whether it was with platonic or romantic intentions.

Jason wanted so badly for it to be romantic, his heart yearned for it like he yearned for you as long as he had, trying not to show just how he melted like putty in your touches and general affection towards him. Other people try to touch him and he hisses at them, but you? You could hold his cheeks and he’d be fighting to need to close his eyes and melt into your hands, feeling safe enough within your presence to do so then he ever had anyone else in a long, long time.

He knew he was fucked the moment he realised that he didn’t want to push you away but pull you in close. Jason knew he was fucked but in that moment he didn’t care because a life of love with you was a risk he was willing to to take, after all he was deserving of a sweeter aspect of life then the one he was already given.

Clark

Feels his cheeks burn as he rubs the back of his head, the feel of your lips still very much lingering on his skin.

The kiss was soft, it was sweet and innocent but it was enough to have Clark becoming a little flustered and a bit sheepish in looking you in the eye, but he managed to do so and it was obvious by the look in his eyes that it was something that would affect his mind for a long while; even when you were long from view you’ll still be in the forefront in his mind.

His voice was caught in his throat but his mind was filled to the brim with all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t, for as soon as you kissed his cheek and wishing him luck, you were already out of his line of sight with a knowing smile graced upon your lips upon your exit.

Clark knew that he’d have to have some words with you when he gets back, but until then he could only assume that you were both on the same page without having to speak words to one another, the attraction was clear but would need to be communicated clearly sooner or later.

Clark could only hope he wasn’t the only one feeling something between the two of you, he was hopeful that he wasn’t when you placed your hand on the s symbol on his chest and looked at him the way you did.

Bruce

Doesn’t show much change visibly but his eyes do shine in amusement and his posture seemed to straighten a little more, only the keenest of eyes would’ve seen that he had also leant into your lips when you kissed his cheek.

Bruce prided himself in being a well put together man, but the moment you kissed his cheek that collapsed in on itself, and he was left wanting nothing more then to ask for another kiss and so he did with a hint of mischief upon his tongue.

‘Do I get another one?’ He asks you.

You only shrug. ‘Only if you come back in one piece then you can have as many cheek kisses as you’d like.’

He may have made an entire playboy persona for public outings and such, but in that moment he felt like a teenager with their first crush again, wanting nothing more then to ask Alfred if engaging in a relationship with you was worth the risks. He is a smart man and knew what he wants and yet while he knew what he wanted, he couldn’t claim to know what you want and didn’t want to assume on your behalf when you didn’t say anything of substance.

Bruce knew that something was different between the two of you -outside of him having a crush on you of course- and knew that once he gets back to Gotham he’ll have to strike while he still could in hopes that you’d allow him to treat you right, and allow him to spoil you rotten once in a while, and keep you safe should you all him to have your heart by taking you on a date to your favourite place.

[fangel]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the TV remote. You scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You adore it, the way he makes you feel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The dollhouse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look doll-like.

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

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

“Perfect.”

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

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

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

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

[r0-boat]

Satan NSFW Alphabet

Well shit You guys really wanted it...

Here you go.

Cw: rough sex, hitting, spanking, mentions of bruises and bleeding.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Am I surprising you, but Satan is actually pretty good with aftercare? Satan will press his lips and look at any injuries he gave you. He'll hold you close and snuggle into your neck. You hear a soft rumble from his body, which he adamantly denies. He becomes incredibly protective and clingy for a while. Any King or not tries to rip you away from his arms we'll have a one-way trip to Lucifer's office. If you try to leave to go to the bathroom or get some water, he will always have his arms around you to the point where he's following you around like a clingy cat.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

As much as he hates to admit it, He agrees with Mammon's obsession with your ass. Tight, pert, and soft; enough flesh to sink his teeth into and leave red with his handprints. He likes the way he jiggles when he slaps it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Yes. In you, on you, breeding you, in your mouth as long as He gets to empty his balls with his favorite stress toy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Every demon has at least one dirty secret. Satan is no exception. As much as he likes to take pride in being your protector. He can't ignore his sadistic desires. To really mark your skin red and purple. To see The fear and pain in your eyes as you try to squirm away from him.

How badly he wants to make you bleed and lick up your blood.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The way his hands clench when he thinks about slapping you across the face when you're sucking him off.

Satan had had lovers before and after he met Solomon. But once he had you, he kind of ghosted all of them. They're pissed, but honestly,, he could care less. You're all that matters to him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style, cowgirl, face sitting, Anything that frees his hands to do more.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

No, Satan likes to lose himself during sex; if you break his concentration, he will get mad at you. If you have enough energy to school off with him while he's fucking you then he's not doing his job.

Satan shaves once every month or two and then lets everything grow out.

Personally, I feel like Satan should have more hair than he actually does (happy trail, facial hair, etc.), mainly because depressed people go through episodes where they just don't care about how groomed they are for days on end. He's not like Asmodeus, who purposely doesn't was; sometimes, he just can't bring himself to. If he isn't working, he's destroying his own stuff or killing angels for fun.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He only started to care about grooming when you started living in Gehenna. Depressed Satan starting to grow a beard and mustache because you spent two weeks too long in Hades. Only to shave it all off and be happy as a puppy when He hears you're coming back.

Satan has no idea what intimacy even is. He practically froze up when you cuddled up against his body. Even if you tell him what to do what you probably have to He will be extremely hesitant out of fear of screwing up somehow.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't jack off; I know it's surprising, but hear me out. He rather just have a body to fuck; He breaks all of his sex toys in minutes when he's using them and his hand just makes him even more pent up and pissed off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Other than spanking, Satan has a massive sadism/masochism. Kink, You better hurt him like he hurts you. He doesn't want to have it any other way.

A huge brat tamer, if you try to tease him, he'll take that as an invitation, and trust me, you don't want to know what he's about to do to you.

Fucking loves Free Use

One time when you told him how big his cock was, he instantly came; he came so fast and so hard it bruised his ego, and he was staring at the ceiling thinking about what just happened.

New Kink unlocked🔓 Praise Kink

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere he damn pleases; He's the fucking king. In fact, he'd rather it be in public so he can give a message to other devils to fuck off.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anger, His anger feels him up so full that it goes straight to his dick.

Teasing, he'll take it as a challenge. Satan always takes the bait, hook, line, and sinker. He can't help himself. You send one obscure image of yourself; he doesn't care where he is, in the middle of a war or in a meeting. He will be there in 10 minutes, approaching your location rapidly.

Satan 🤝 Levi jealous sex

Unlike Levi, Who stews in jealousy before acting; Satan just immediately explodes.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Get that softy fluffy sex shit out of here.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Sit on his face... Don't put 10% of your weight down; sit on it. SIT ON IT! MAKE SURE HE DOESN'T BREATHE!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough till you can still feel him for days.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Anywhere; everywhere; anytime, if he sees that ass and he's horny it's free real estate.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Oh yeah, of course, he'll experiment. It's not that he takes risks; it's that he doesn't care for them.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As long as he damn pleases. Even if he is sore,, he'll keep going.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No fuck those pieces of plastic bullshits; if he catches you using one, he'll use it till it breaks and then say. "I'm not replacing shit. You should be using me; I'm your dildo!!"

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Satan doesn't tease, and Satan does not like teasing. Teasing him is considered a challenge. Satan rather just fuck you till you stop pissing him off. If you really want to tease him you have to tie him down and pray the bindings don't break.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He growls like a feral animal; if Asmodeus fucks you like an animal in heat, then Satan fucks you like an animal with rabies; Yes, he does bite.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

As possessive as Satan is he actually doesn't mind sharing you with only a few people.

The kings if he's in a good mood;

Sitri; but he can't touch you; he must sit and watch.

Amy; Sitri must also be there for free entertainment; Satan will happily stir the pot and let Amy touch or fuck you just to watch the Sitri seething in jealousy and anger.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Satan is a shower, not a grower; As pale as mayonnaise, when his cock is hard, his tip flares so red. It's kind of fun to watch.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His yearning for sex grows with the wrath inside him. You guys can do the math.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Very rarely he will ever feel exhausted enough to fall asleep but usually you guys are doing it all the way till morning.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

been thinking of investing in a bass pro shop hat to simultaneously get gendered correctly and avoid being clocked as trans... I live in a pretty conservative rural area so I figure if I dress like the local cis guys they'll think I'm one of them and act accordingly.

The only issue is I'm pre everything so my voice sounds like shit. If I talk they'll either clock me or assume I'm a kid but I can just not talk unless needed, right?

Do you think this is a good idea?

In this moment in history, we need a mix of visible and invisible trans people. There are many different roles to play when fighting fascism and not all are on the front lines.

I am in a support role right now, so am pretty stealth currently. And maybe that's what you need to ask yourself -- is anyone directly depending on you and how does that influence your plans?

It's also hard to answer your question because I don't know your experiences trying to pass in public, and if your current presentation to an outsider reads as "cis female" or "some kind of queer".

With all the kindness in my heart -- don't confuse gender euphoria with the ability to pass. Get some second opinions on your cishet cosplay. Take photos at unflattering angles, from the back and sides. I'm still unsettled at how my silhouette at certain angles clocks me.

You also need to decide if there is a point where you're safer off presenting as female. What you would do if you ever reach that point and what the consequences would be.

If this will be your first time presenting as male in public, you might want to wait a bit while the current chaos of the new admin settles. Things are highly unpredictable right now.

If you do attempt to pass like this, stay out of bathrooms and try to go out only during the day, ideally with cis friends. Drive safely. Avoid doing things that require showing your ID. You want to be invisible and be mistaken for a teenager.

If you get clocked, it's very likely you'll be taken for a lesbian, as so many transphobes still forget trans men exist. Which still may not lend you much safety if they're homophobic. Rehearse how you would respond in a confrontation.

It's always a risk, trying to pass in hostile areas. Because the retribution could be even worse once transphobes learn they have been "deceived".

It has to be your call. But put a lot of thought into it and practice where it's safest.

Good luck and take care.

[fromchaostocosmos]

Also America Jews worked really hard to get the Holocaust to be a part the USA curriculum.

There is also the pervasive idea that Holocaust Museums are funded by government and that they were created/founded by the governments.

That is a lie.

Jews fought tooth and nail for Holocaust Education and memorials to the Holocaust.

That included persevering Concentration Camps so that they could be a testament and witness to the history.

Because there were those who advocated razing them.

Jews fought for the memorials to put up in places there were no physical reminders to be the testament to history.

Jews in the USA fund-raised amongst our communities to raise money for Holocaust Museums and applied for grants when and where applicable to teach and educate on the Holocaust.

And when others Genocides have happened such Cambodian, Darfur, and Rwandan for example information about those as well as the Armenian Genocide have sections within these Holocaust Museums.

No one handed over Holocaust memorials, Holocaust Museums, and Holocaust education. We Jews had to fight a very fraught and bitter fight for it.

And in many countries we are not the ones in charge of the Museums and memorials so you get really not good choices and decisions being made.

Like the Polish government has a lot of control over the Concentration Camps and so official statements that get made by them can be very political and it is not good. Also there are a lot of choices especially in terms of Auschwitz on how they go about things that many Jews are not fans off, myself included, like appearance for example and tone.

The Anne Frank Museum in Amsterdam has made choices that again have I don't think would have happened if the majority of those in charge were Jewish.

Also within Europe these places are very tourism and will have gift shops.

For me personally I think it is inappropriate. This is not something that should anyone should make money from. Your countries made your money when you murdered us and pillaged from us. At least treat our dead with a little more respect this time around.

The governments should fund the upkeep and care of these places.

I will not forget being at the Majdanek Death Camp and having to pay to go in and then walking and seeing sign that was a pointed arrow shape and it said in English, Gift Shop.

I felt so sick seeing it. I won't ever forget it. I feel sick when I think about it.

This is not the place for a gift shop.

So if people want to have a serious and honest discussion about how Plantation sites are used in the USA, what should be done with them now, what can be done, and more I am more then willing to have that conversation because I have a lot of thoughts and opinions on the topic coming from the People I come from and the experiences we've had.

I think that there is a lot that the Jewish community have to offer in terms of experience and help to the Black Community on this topic.

I'm just really sick and tired of people who don't really anything about the Holocaust speaking total bullshit and then also making stuff up the USA in terms of the Holocaust.

I'm also sick and tired of seeing the type of shit that we see in the screenshots because for as hurtful and painful as it is for me to see it I have to imagine that it is even more hurtful and painful for Black Jews to see and experience.

Because that type of rhetoric is in essence not just erasing their experiences, but is erasing them entirely. Because it is saying the Jews come at the expense of Black people and if someone ascribes to that kind of hateful ideology then how must the view Black Jews. Do they not think they exist or do they think something even worse and more hateful or somehow both.

And I myself do not want to be Black Jews in position where they ever have to feel like they need to choose between parts of who they are because they shouldn't. They should be able to be all of who they are, fully and wholly.

And to remind or educate those who may not know the USA after the Civil War had a policy of Isolationism in regards to International Affairs. Which meant that whatever was going outside of the USA they were not really getting involved in and didn't want to.

So when WW 1 happened the USA came in later and was kinda pulled in and at the time it war on a level no ever saw before and it was called The Great War not World War (1) and once it officially over the USA was like ok bye.

And went to saying we are gonna stay here and do our thing.

So once World War 2 was going on the USA was yeah no that is a Europe problem leave us out of it.

It is only until Japan bombs Pearl Harbor that the USA gets involved and they are fairly late the party, but they are there and become a major power player.

It Japan never did that and the USA was left alone the USA would not have gotten involved.

So it is once the USA is pulled in because of Pearl Harbor that you have Japanese citizens being forced into interment camps, you have the rationing of food and supplies, the mass of women entering the workforce, vegetable victory gardens, and all of that.

So the USA like to present the retrospective that the poor pathetic Jews needed help and big strong USA came to save the day which is bullshit.

FDR was multiple times presented by his generals ways they could destroy the tracks to Auschwitz and he said no every to it every time.

FDR also made it much harder to apply for refugee status, rules that still exist by the way, in order to prevent Jews from coming into the USA and added quotas too for the same reason.

USA Jews raised money to pay to get Jews in legally to the USA and when that really wasn't working, they wrote to their elected officials and marched in Washington D.C to bring attention to what was going on to get Americans to give a fuck.

And when that didn't happen some USA Jews went to Europe to try and help Jews get out putting their lives on the line and USA Jews also were able to help to pay for some European Jews to get out and go to other countries be it at the time safe European ones, ones in South America, illegally into the USA, British Mandate Palestine, or countries in Central America and the Caribbean Islands.

So what it would like is USA Jew has lets a cousin in Europe so their local community raises funds and however much they raise goes toward paying to get however much of said cousin and family out of the country so fees, bribes, tickets, etc and to cover for as much people they can so it could sometimes cover everyone in the family and sometimes just one or two people. And the family in Europe would have to pick who goes.

So we are not talking about hundreds of thousands of people being saved here maybe not even thousands and thousands, but this is what could be done and so it was.

And often you would send the money and tickets and stuff with someone so someone had to risk their life to bring it to the family in Europe because you couldn't take the chance of it getting lost or stolen in via mail.

So Jews in the USA knew about what was happening and they were doing their best to help.

And while they were doing what they could however they could you had the USA government only getting involved when they had to and the until the USA joined the war in the USA Nazism was super popular. The American Bund Party was popular. Hitler was popular.

Many Americans were not happy about joining the war and having to fight the Nazi. They might not have cared for the Japanese, but they were not happy to fight the Germans.

That is relativity condensed and basic breakdown of what was going on, but yeah so anything or anyone who goes American were like yay lets fight Nazis are lying.

Jews were happy to fight Nazis which is why many Jews volunteered to fight.

Black people I think were probably happy to fight Nazis and I think from what I understand thought that the army would present an opportunity for an actual merit based structure and that was sadly not the case.

I have great respect and הַכָּרַת הַטּוֹב Hakarat HaTov, gratitude, to the many Black soldiers who fought on behalf on the USA army in WW2 because they did not get the recognition they did deserve after the war was over and I doubt they were treated with respect by their fellow white soldiers. I would also imagine that due the anti-Black racism they were forced to due riskier missions and tasks by their white army leaders (commanders?). They helped liberate us and their efforts freed us.

I have great respect and הַכָּרַת הַטּוֹב Hakarat HaTov to the many different peoples who helped in fighting the Nazis even when it meant having endure discrimination and racism from the very army the were helping and fighting on the behalf of.

Because how can I not.

(X)

i’m going to let this video speak for itself. bc i don’t even know what to say anymore. i don’t know how we come back from this level of radicalization among young people to the point where holocaust denial has become the norm.

[genderqueerdykes]

I'm going to start throwing a tantrum if the popular leftist YouTubers keep saying Trans Women when talking about the effects of Trump's policies that very much can and do harm and kill trans men. Like I don't get it? What is the point of specifying trans Women every time they talk about broader trans issues? Do they even realize they're doing this?

this is a really good ask, thanks for taking the time to say it! that makes me really glad i don't watch anything even remotely political or related to queer topics on youtube. i'm not sure how other people can do it, it's entirely too stressful and it's way more common than not that people just end up getting sucked up into petty drama instead of talking about the queer experience or helping other queer people.

i have to be honest to god about this behavior: it's virtue signalling mixed with genuine trans(andro)phobia. the vast majority of it is straight up just virtue signalling and it's old as fuck. it is super obvious and i have no idea how people think they're doing anything good by behaving this way. this is a way for people to make Themselves feel better because they're patting themselves on the back for being sooooooooo progressive and sooooooo good to trans women. people want to look like a great ally to transfems without actually being one.

it's fucking annoying as hell and it's being done on purpose to show that that person doesn't give a singular shit about trans men or anyone else and is literally just sucking up to trans women in the hopes of gaining brownie points and looking more progressive. like it's glaringly apparent that people think that trans woman is the only way to be trans, can we call this bullshit for what it is? "trans person" does NOT mean "trans woman". if you want to specifically talk about trans women, just say that. don't do this weird thing where you're like "oh this is gonna affect trans people!" and then immediately say it as trans women.

trans women are not the only trans people. fucking stop this behavior. you are doing this on purpose. you are leaving out trans men on purpose for the sake of trying to look progressive and like you care about trans rights. all you're doing is proving that you are transphobic af and are only doing this to either suck up to trans women, or for trans women to intentionally erase trans men and completely leave them out of the conversation. like sometimes it IS trans women doing this and we HAVE to call it out. trans women can and do participate in transmasc erasure. we have to pretending that trans women can't hurt trans men, transmascs, nonbinary people, genderqueer people and all other kinds of trans people.

i 100% agree with you. if we're talking about trans issues in general why do people ONLY say trans women and that's it? i don't know how to say it any other way than transphobic legislature hurts every single trans person. every single one. masc, femme, both, something else altogether. all of us are affected. what about genderfluid people? what about bigender people? what about transfems who aren't women? what about agender people? what about transneutral people?

trans does not mean "Trans women and trans women only". stop this behavior. we GET it. you wanna LOOK like you care about trans women. we GET that you want to suck up to us for Progressive Brownie Points. like people really think we can't see this shit. people really think that we cannot tell that people are pandering to us just so they can pat themselves on the back for looking like they care about trans rights. we can fucking see that you're doing this to try to get the transfems in your life to think highly of you while you're not actually helping them at all.

i need people to understand that transfems and trans women are aware of how fucking phony this shit sounds, even when it's coming from other transfems and trans women. like we are nowhere near as dumb as y'all think we are. i honestly find it really fucking nasty that people think that trans women are too dumb to tell when people are just sucking up to us to try to make themselves look better. if you ask me, this behavior is just as transmisogynistic as it is transandrophobic, exorsexist and just transphobic in general.

you can't leave out every other single trans person for the sake of trying to gain rights for trans women. it's all of us, or none of us. leaving other trans people out of the discussion will not make trans womens' lives better or easier. we don't want this. stop it.

[scoobydoodean]

If you had to pick five moments that you think best summarize Dean as a character… What would they be? Like, either each individually makes you go “yup THAT’S the character” or as a whole they male up the most of his facets?

Oooh that’s difficult. Hmm. HMMM.

1.02 "I figure our family's so screwed to hell... maybe we can help some others"

"Saving people, hunting things, the family business" etc etc yeah. But ALSO we often ignore that this whole conversation is centered around not letting desperation for revenge consume you, and Dean's care for others including strangers—wanting to keep them from experiencing the traumas that he has.

DEAN Listen to me. You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man. SAM How do you do it? How does Dad do it? DEAN looks over at HALEY and BEN. DEAN Well for one, them. I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable.

4.22 "Stepford Bitch in Paradise"

This one is a good representation of Dean's refusal to back down, caring about the whole world, and arguing fiercely to protect it, as well as his ability to stir up the care and love in others.

DEAN Destiny? Don't give me that "holy" crap. Destiny, God's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what's real? People, families -- that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn? CASTIEL What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam. DEAN You can take your peace... and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise. This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good soldier. There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it.

12.22 "I hate you and I love you"

Just a very good summary of Dean's childhood experiences and how they have effected him, and how he (yet again) stirs up the care and love in others (and pulls people from mind control over and over via the power of love <3)

I hate you. You lied to me. I was a kid. You promised you'd keep me safe. And then you make a deal with Azazel. Yeah, it saved Dad's life, but I'll tell you something else that happened. Because on November 2, 1983, old Yellow Eyes came waltzing in to Sammy's room, because of your deal. You left us. Alone. 'Cause Dad was just a shell. His perfect wife? Gone. Our perfect Mom, the perfect family... was gone. And I... I had to be... more than just a brother. I had to be a father and I had to be a mother, to keep him safe. And that wasn't fair. And I couldn't do it. And you wanna know what that was like? They killed the girl that he loved. He got possessed by Lucifer. They tortured him in Hell. And he lost his soul. His soul. All because of you. All of it was because of you. I hate you. I hate you. And I love you. 'Cause I can't – I can't help it. You're my Mom. And I understand...'cause I have made deals to save the ones I love more than once. I forgive you. I forgive you. For all of it. Everything. On the other side of this, we can start over, okay? You, me, Sam. We can get it right this time. But I need you to fight. Right now, I need you to fight. I need you – I need you to look at me, Mom. I need you to really look at me and see me. Mom, I need you to see me. Please.

5.22 "Well, then I ain't gonna let him die alone"

Bobby and Cas try to convince Dean that they've lost and there's no point in trying to reach Sam.

BOBBY: You just don't give up. DEAN: It's Sam! CASTIEL: If you couldn't reach him here, you're certainly not gonna be able to on the battlefield. DEAN: Well, if we've already lost, I guess I got nothing to lose, right? CASTIEL: I just want you to understand – the only thing that you're gonna see out there is Michael killing your brother. DEAN: Well, then I ain't gonna let him die alone.

Dean pulls up at Stull right in front of two archangels who could blow him to smithereens, blasting music from his car and making an obnoxious scene. THEN Cas and Bobby show up right behind him (just as Michael says "you are not a part of the story!") Dean's refusal to give up defies causality, and his attitude is infectious.

While Dean is being beaten to death, he's saying,

DEAN: Sam, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you. I'm not gonna leave you.

Dean's refusal to abandon his brother fills Lucifer with jealous rage making his control slip, while simultaneously bringing dozens of memories of traveling with Dean to Sam's mind helping him surface and take control.

3.10 "I didn't deserve what he put on me"

I have trouble picking a 5th because there's so many different directions I could go (Dean and Cas in the Crypt, Dean reusing to abandon Cas in Purgatory, Dean in the cemetery in 2.20 crying over John's grave, Dean's "I'm not mad I'm worried" from "Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets" or the similar scene in "The Future", Dean convincing Chuck and Amara to make up, Dean refusing to give into Chuck's writing and kill Jack, Dean telling Chuck "We will never give you the ending you want", etc).

I think I have to go with 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream of Me" because it summarizes a lot of Dean's intrusive thoughts and his overactive sense of responsibility and guilt, identifies the origin of those feelings, connects all of it to his depression and suicidality, and then circles back to the fact that he knows deep down that he doesn't deserve to feel this way, that he's not a tool for others to use, that he is his own person, and that he deserves to live.

DREAM DEAN I mean, you're going to hell and you won't lift a finger to stop it. Talk about low self-esteem. Then again, I guess it's not much of a life worth saving, now is it? DEAN Wake up, Dean. Come on, wake up. DREAM DEAN I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Sam. You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog. DEAN That -That's not true. DREAM DEAN No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car? That's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. Do you even have an original thought? No. No, all there is is, "Watch out for Sammy. Look out for your little brother, boy!" You can still hear your Dad's voice in your head, can't you? Clear as a bell. DEAN Just shut up. DREAM DEAN I mean, think about it ... all he ever did is train you, boss you around. But Sam .... Sam he doted on. Sam, he loved. DEAN I mean it. I'm getting angry. DREAM DEAN Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you? DEAN Son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam! That was his crap. He's the one who couldn't protect his family. He- He's the one who let Mom die. – who wasn't there for Sam. I always was! He wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me. And I don't deserve to go to Hell!

[tinysunshine]

━━━ ✧˖° 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓: 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍

- a = aftercare (how he takes care of you after sex)

daryl doesn’t do the kind of ‘aftercare’ you read about in fics. bringing you a snack, talking you down from a hazy headspace, telling you everything will be alright - those things don’t happen with him. they don’t need to.

every time you have sex with daryl, it feels good. amazing. he fucks you, not just because he wants to get off, but because he wants to make you feel good too. he won’t admit it, but he likes the closeness of it. the intimacy that is sex. when you’re both done, sweaty and tired and coming down from an orgasm high, he’ll help clean you up - and if you ask, he’ll bring you some water. cuddle you extra tight, tell you how much he loves you.

of course, if kink is involved, daryl would do more to make sure you’re okay after a scene, but regular intercourse doesn’t warrant anything special after. because every moment with daryl is special. and when you’re around him, you know that he’ll take care of you and make sure you’re okay at all times.

- b = body part (his favorite body part of yours)

daryl likes boobs and ass. just as much as any other guy. but for different reasons.

he would never look at a woman and think ‘wow, she’s hot because of her huge tits’ or anything like that. while he might notice certain physical things about a woman’s body, he really could care less. daryl dixon does not let lust or his cock run his life - and in the world he lives in, that’s a good thing. he has more important things to focus on.

if you’re dating daryl, he likes your boobs because they’re yours. he likes your ass because it’s yours. he doesn’t have a type. it doesn’t matter if you’re skinny, tall, petite, thick - if you managed to get close to daryl, believe that he adores every inch of your body and everything about you.

- c = cum (anything to do with cum)

daryl will kiss you after you suck his dick and swallow his cum. he doesn’t care if your mouth still tastes salty, doesn’t mind the taste of himself. he also doesn’t necessarily think it’s hot, just - it is what it is. sex is natural. sex is dirty. that’s what daryl believes, anyway.

he loves the taste of your cum. is obsessed with the concept of squirt. he loves spending majority of foreplay, or even just for fun, going down on you and fingering you. i imagine him with the bottom part of his face slick, your inner thighs stinging from his facial hair rubbing against them, his lips looking glossy from your juices after he gave you a few orgasms. his smile from between your legs is probably shy and loopy as he licks the taste of you from his fingers.

- d = dirty secret (a dirty little secret of his)

daryl would never verbally admit this - but he loves when you call him daddy.

and not in that, who’s your daddy? kind of way, that’s a little degrading and a whole lot of powerful. daryl just loves what it stands for - that he’s taking care of you. that you trust him.

and, okay, maybe feeling like he has that power over you is a little hot. but it’s not the main reason he likes it.

when you curl up next to him and call him that name, snuggle into his side, or just tease him to ask for something using that name and a sweet voice - god, it gives him butterflies, makes him eager to do whatever he can do to make you happy. because he loves taking care of you. loves spoiling you in whatever way he can.

the name is romantic to him, but at the end of the day - also a little kinky. the fact that you trust him the way you do means everything to him.

- e = experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he’s doing?)

daryl doesn’t have a lot of experience - but that’s by choice.

people can think what they want about daryl, but women want him. because not only is he physically hot, he’s also untrained - in that dirty, masculine way every woman secretly wants a piece of. in his life, daryl has had many admirers, but just a few partners.

in fact, most of the women he’s been with sexually have probably been older than him. kind, soft, they took good care of him while he learned the ropes. maybe that’s why he’s so good with his tongue and fingers and cock - older women with more experience, who could see the appeal that the women his age maybe couldn’t back then, have taught him well.

so, yes - daryl knows what he’s doing, and he does it well.

- f = favorite position (this one goes without saying)

in the beginning, when he’s getting comfortable and more vulnerable with you, daryl is a little scared of missionary. it’s a lot of pressure, to have your pretty face looking up at him - you can see how he’s feeling, and he can see the way you’re feeling. wonders if you’re enjoying yourself, if he’s making any weird faces. he’s also a little scared to admit just how much he enjoys himself with you, no matter how silly that sounds.

daryl just wants to impress you. he just wants you to feel good.

as you get more serious in your relationship, missionary becomes his favorite because of the intimacy that looking into each other’s eyes brings. he also loves doggy, because duh, and he loves showing off his strength by holding you up against a wall and fucking you like that, just bouncing you up and down on his cock like you weigh nothing. because to a man as strong as him - you are light. no matter what your body type.

and when you ride him? god, it’s so overwhelmingly good he could just about cry. but really, any position, as long as he gets to put his dick inside of you, is perfect for him.

- g = giving (is he more of a giver, or a receiver?)

giver. daryl isn’t a sexual person unless he’s really into someone - and if he’s really into you, then his sexuality is pretty much…you. he could please you and focus on just your pleasure for hours, even if it’s at the expense of his own. whatever you want to do in the bedroom, he’ll try. even if he gives you a funny look, or teases you about it, he’ll give it a chance.

if it’s something super kinky, he might be hesitant - but ultimately daryl just wants to make you happy. seeing you turned on turns him on. definitely a giver.

‘you’re a little weird, ya know?’ he murmurs, face flushed when you ask him to dominate you a certain way, or do something dirty. but he’s a good sport - he’ll do it, whatever it is, especially when he sees how much it turns you on.

- h = hair (how well groomed is he? his thoughts on body hair, his partner’s and his own)

this might be surprising to some, but daryl is well groomed. his hair is pretty light but he keeps it trimmed, because even though he has the reputation of someone who doesn’t give a fuck, he’s actually hygienic. uses bar soap, freshens up everyday. he’s just really active and outside all the time, which is how he gets dirty so fast. and he doesn’t care what he looks like, not when the world is the way it is. but he’s not unhygienic. he smells manly, woodsy, musky in the best way possible.

as for your hair, he really doesn’t care. daryl has literally eaten raw squirrel meat just to survive. he’s rough and tough and a survivor - you think he cares about fucking body hair? he’ll go down on you no matter what your grooming situation, will cuddle next to you and touch your body no matter if you shaved yesterday or haven’t touched a razor in months.

although, if you do happen to be smooth, soft and hairless just because that’s something you prefer, he definitely notices. can’t believe someone as sweet and pretty as you even lets his rough fingertips touch your body, but overall, body hair is not a factor in his attraction towards you. not at all.

- i = intimacy (how is they during the moment? the romantic aspects)

when daryl loves you, he’s romantic all the time. without even knowing it. for some reason, he’s under the impression that he’s not romantic. maybe he thinks that romance is red roses and money and expensive dinners, things that don’t matter in the world you’re both living in. he also has a bit of a self esteem issue - he doesn’t really see himself for who he is, you know? he’s amazing, and everyone knows that. he’s the one who has a hard time believing it.

he’s so romantic. in the way he takes care of you. listens to you. he’s a sweetheart, wrapped in a tough package. when you’re having sex, he’s the same daryl he always is. intense, thoughtful, voice a little mumbled even as he tells you how tight you are, how good you are for him, how much he cares about you.

he loves you, you know that with all your heart - but acts of service, sometimes gift giving is the way he shows it. the words i love you are rarely explicitly verbalized. but he fucks you so good that it’s obvious.

giving you orgasms is an act of service and a gift at the same time, right?

- j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

daryl doesn’t just jerk off for the fuck of it. never gets horny and immediately think, ‘lemme touch myself.’ if you’re dating him, he’ll just put the moves on you, because he’d rather watch you not waste a drop of his cum then get it all over his hand. if he’s single, he definitely only gets himself off when he has to. when its been so long it’s starting to become a need, and his body is desperate for release.

god, he looks so hot laying on his back, perfect arms flexing as he jerks himself off. it’s easy to imagine. it’s also easy to imagine watching him cum all over his stomach and licking it off -

okay, maybe he lets you watch him get himself off one time. tells you to take your clothes off in front of him while he strokes himself, embarrassed, and so turned on at the way you clean up his mess with your cute, pink tongue.

- k = kink (one or more of his kinks)

daryl isn’t the kinky sex god everyone in the fandom makes him out to be. he has his moments, sure, but the only time he’d ever do something truly kinky is if you asked.

if you wanted him to spank you, or lightly choke you, or roleplay a little - he’d awkwardly do it in his own cute, grumpy way.

the way he naturally is, and the dynamic he has with you - some might think there’s elements of kink to it. he’s such a man, but he’s also sort of versatile. would let you dominate him, although not aggressively, even while he’s on top of you. he’d think it’s hot if his woman told him how to fuck her, demanded things - he definitely thinks a little bit of a brat is sexy.

there’s something very primal about sex with daryl, but it comes naturally to him. he’s a little bossy with you, even if you have him whipped. when you fuck, he takes what he wants, he’s a man about it, and that’s endlessly sexy to you.

- l = location (favorite places to fuck and mess around)

bed.

it seems boring, but having a bed and a roof is a luxury these days. there was a long time when daryl didn’t have anything to sleep on but a thin sleeping bag, and even worse, a hard fucking prison bed. fuck the tent, fuck the outdoors - you’re precious to daryl, and he wants to fuck you somewhere that’s worthy of you.

he’ll also fuck you over a couch, or in the shower. and, okay - he’ll fuck you outside or behind a tree or wherever you want if you’re desperate for it, but he definitely prefers to have you on his soft mattress, bedroom door closed, so he can give you the princess treatment you deserve and fuck you like -

the girlfriend he adores.

- m = motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

you.

all day and all night long. anything and everything about you. he wants to please you. make you happy. take care of you. he can’t rest if you’re unhappy, can’t cum unless you’re completely satisfied. doesn’t want to even have a good time unless you’re having one too.

anything and everything you do turns him on. just by being yourself, you get that man going like nothing and nobody else. it’s kind of your superpower, you think sometimes - the effect you have on daryl dixon.

- n = no (something he wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he doesn’t want to hurt you.

even if you ask for it, tell daryl you’ll be fine and him getting rough with you turns you on - he’ll be hesitant.

i don’t think daryl would ever tell you no. he’s pretty inexperienced, but when it comes to anything kinky, you have to tell him what you want, and he might be freaked out. if you asked him to spank you, he might look at you like you’ve grown a second head. ‘you know i’m a lot stronger than you, don’t you?’ he’ll say, as if you’re literally insane, and you’ll nod and roll your eyes, telling him in your best brat voice, ‘that’s the point.’

daryl will do whatever you want, and he’ll enjoy it because making you happy turns him on - but i think anything that could hurt you scares him a little.

- o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

giving.

of course, he loves receiving head because who doesn’t? but come on. you know that man is obsessed with eating pussy. loves to get dirty and sticky and wet between your thighs, or have you sit on his face so he can feel you all over him. bonus points if you’re thick: because the weight of you on his face, your smell and your taste and just you on top of him could literally make him cum untouched if he tried hard enough.

daryl loves to give - and he’s so fucking good at it. partially from skill, but mostly because he’s so enthusiastic. will jump at any opportunity to go down on you.

- p = pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

daryl isn’t inherently rough.

but he is. he’s just so big, and kind of unaware of his strength, and when he’s enthusiastic and excited and you beg him to flip you onto your stomach and fuck you silly - he’s going to do it. he’s so strong, and anytime he puts his hands on you while he’s fucking you, it always feels a little rough. the good news is: you love it. because even when he’s rough, doesn’t realize how hard he’s gripping your hips or folding your legs into your chest so he can fuck you at a better angle, he’s still so sensual. can go so slow. make you feel so loved.

sex with daryl makes you feel like a prized possession, and when he’s inside of you, you want it to last forever.

- q = quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

daryl can get you off quickly, but it takes him a little longer to cum. his pleasure centers around your pleasure, and if you feel good - he’s satisfied, even if he doesn’t cum himself.

a quickie for daryl means quickly getting you off fast. with his fingers or mouth and tongue, or his cock, even if he tucks it back into his pants, slightly hard, and pulls his shirt over the bulge while you’re still shaking from your orgasm. as long as you’re satisfied, so is he.

he wants to savor the chase of his orgasm for longer than just a quickie while the rest of your group is momentarily occupied or you finally have some free time together during the day. if you want sex, he’ll happily oblige, but long nights with daryl are more his style.

- r = risk (is he game to experiment? does he take risks? etc.)

daryl doesn’t take risks when it comes to sex. meaning: it’s rare that he’ll fuck you somewhere where others could hear or walk by and catch you both. you’ve had a few outside romps for sure, but if there’s a bed or a couch or a roof over your head, daryl will always pick that. it’s not that he doesn’t want to have fun, he just wants to make sure you’re getting the best experience. what kind of boyfriend would he be if he let you get grass stains on the knees of your pants if he bent you over outside? he’d never put you in a degrading position like that.

unless, of course, you ask for something like that. even if he’s huffing and puffing, mumbling ‘yer crazy, girl’ under his breath about a sexual request you have - he’ll always try to please you. and honestly, he can’t deny you when you’re all over him, begging for a little risk, especially when life is more settled. how can he tell you no when you’re pulling at his sleeve and rubbing your tits against his arm, asking him to take you behind a tree even with the rest of your group close by?

with daryl, you pretty much always get what you want.

- s = stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)

once daryl cums, he’s good. doesn’t see the need to go an extra round and exert himself - because he’s definitely fucking tired after giving you a pounding. when he fucks you, he uses all his strength, makes you cum so many times before he lets himself cum that you’re too exhausted to go another round even if he wanted to. he can last a long time, with foreplay and blowjobs and making you cum around his cock - which is why he’s usually beat for a few hours after he finally lets himself spill. it really doesn’t take him long to be ready again once he cums, but one round with daryl is deeply satisfying.

- t = toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

daryl doesn’t use toys on himself. wouldn’t even think to do that.

at first, he honestly doesn’t like the thought of you using toys. not because he’s insecure - he literally just doesn’t understand why you need a toy if you have him. or your own fingers.

but one day, he catches you using your vibrator under the covers and he sees how fucking wet it makes you, how easy it is for that little toy to take you over the edge, and then he understands. doesn’t feel like it takes away from you, or him, or what you two do together - no, he just gets a little curious, is all.

daryl enjoys, very rarely, using a vibrator while you fuck. loves to see you come apart while you ride his cock and he holds it to your clit, the way you shudder and shake on top of him, have orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

and sometimes, he asks you to hold it on his balls. or the base of his dick. lightly - just for a second. his face turns red and his dick leaks precum. when you bend down to lick it well -

he understands the appeal of toys now, okay?

- u = unfair (how much he likes to tease)

as hot as it would be, daryl doesn’t really sexually tease. he does do it verbally though, when you’re crawling on his lap after he already spent the better part of an hour between your legs, fingers almost pruning from how long they’d been inside of you as he licked at your pussy. “you ready to go again jus’ like that?’ he’ll tease, all while heat creeps into your cheeks at how easy you are for him. but even when he teases you, you never feel ashamed for sharing any need you have with daryl. he doesn’t judge.

well, he does - but he never judges you.

- v = volume (how loud he is, what sounds he makes, etc.)

he’s not loud. partially because he’s just a quiet person, but also because he’s used to constantly being around people and sharing a living space. his voice is soft even when he talks dirty, little grunts and moans leaving his mouth so quietly that sometimes the only way you know he’s having a good time is the feel of his dick rock hard inside of you.

it makes it all the more special when he does get a little louder. after a few drinks, when he’s more outwardly touchy and talkative, or when you suck him off so good he just can’t help the noises coming out of his mouth. it’s a glorious feeling, when you can actually get daryl dixon to moan in your ear, or press his forehead to yours as he lets out a breath, the walls of your pussy clenching around him so tight he doesn’t even know how to move.

‘fuck,’ he’ll whisper, the most delicious little whine leaving his lips. you savor those sounds, commit them to memory, keep them in the back of your mind in case you ever need to get yourself off when daryl’s not around.

- w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

daryl never knew how much he needed a woman in his life. someone feminine, soft, to offset his masculine energy and understand the vulnerability beneath his surface.

but when he met you, someone sweet and cute and pretty and warm - everything he never thought he wanted nor needed, your presence kind of became an addiction to him.

daryl feels his dick start to chub in his pants whenever you wear a skirt, or a dress. whenever he feels your soft thigh against his leg in bed at night, or when you fit your body, so much smaller than his, on his lap or tucked under his arm. when you freak out if you see a bug because you’re scared of spiders, but not walkers, tie his hair back with little ribbons while he’s napping - he’s so incredibly fond that it makes him sick. it turns him on, the woman you are, and it’s like his dick is half hard the entire day when you wear anything pink or floral print.

you make him crazy in the best way.

- x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

hard body. toned, every inch of him. slightly tan, skin the most beautiful bronzed color in the summer, blemish free. his cock is big, but not overly so - perfect size, perfect color. the head of his dick is sort of pink, soft. he’s too hot for his own good, too beautiful, and he doesn’t even know it. actually blushes, when you lick your lips as he gets undressed, but daryl’s naivety about his own good looks is kind of part of his charm.

- y = yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

daryl is ready to fuck and get sucked at all times. but it’s not his main goal - he’s got a lot of shit to do, a lot of people depending on him, and he can go a long time without cumming. not that he wants to - especially not when he’s with you.

whenever you want to fuck, daryl is game. if you want his cock, you’re going to get it. don’t get it wrong - he is initiating. he can tell when you want to be fucked, because you go all quiet with your eyes glassy, or the opposite, you’re loud and a little bratty, begging him to just give you some type of release that you can’t get on your own. he knows you well, and he’s got you. ‘okay, pretty girl,’ he’ll say, leading you by the hand to a private area. ‘lemme make you feel better.’

daryl has a high sex drive, but until he met you, getting off was just never a big deal to him.

- z = zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterwards)

very fast. such a cutie. he puts his all into it when he’s fucking you - and he’s not trying to be intense, that’s just how he naturally is regarding everything about you. he’s always giving his all when it comes to you, in any situation. but there’s also the fact that - he doesn’t know how else to be?

doesn’t understand men who’d let their woman do all the work during intercourse - it makes no sense to him, and the thought actually makes him uncomfortable. because of this, he’s definitely exhausted after he cums. if he fucks you at night, he’s passing the fuck out afterwards. if it’s a quickie during the day, he’s tucking his dick back in his pants after you’re done, grumbling something about ‘never getting a chance to nap anymore’ or some shit while you stifle a giggle.

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[baphometsss]

my childfreeness is projecting again so here, have some of my childfree headcanons

Solas is sterile because he's old as fuck and his balls just don't make baby batter like they used to (Trick lk confirmed this teehee 🩷)

Did they ever work though?? I mean he literally just manifested as a fully grown man like all the ancient elves did. Iirc that's why modern elves don't have DNA. We never seem to find out when they started having babies naturally so it's possible he was always sterile (kind of like in TRC when Ronan pulls people out of his dreams and they don't even have internal organs)

Taleani Lavellan has always liked spirits and animals more than people because they're kind of uncomfortable around kids and people in general so not breeding is a very natural choice for them

Not to say they don't care about them at all bc she had a duty as her clan's midwife and helped all the new mothers out etc but she just doesn't have a clue how to talk to kids and has no desire to learn

Solas also doesn't know wtf to do around kids and either ignores them or talks to them like they're fully grown adults while they stare back at him blankly

He also canonically doesn't like loud noises and bollocks Blackwall for training the kids right outside his room in DAI

"Not now kitten Daddy's lamenting his war crimes and I have to talk him down again"--Lavellan probably

Being childfree makes them focus on each other a whole lot more. Makes me think about that old photo of some soldier returning from war to meet his kid for the first time ever and just shoving it under his arm upside down so he can kiss his wife. That would be Solas as a dad

Seriously they would have 0 time for that kid while the other was present . Tough luck kiddo your mother's wearing a low cut top today and her titties look divine. Go play in the Fade and don't come back for at least a couple of hours

Straight up Gomez and Morticia Addams if the kids weren't there

Absolutely fucking awful parents . No time to be normal when there are blighted titans to deal with

Also they can explore the Fade much further and learn so much more without having to get a spirit babysitter in

They can nerd out over all the new discoveries they make and do all the dangerous experiments they like without having to worry about the safety of a person with no sense of danger

They can have impromptu shags on the kitchen table and not worry about getting walked in on and scarring that kid mentally with their outrageous sex life

When they're stressed from a hard day of titan soothing and they just want to relax and talk they don't have to fight the bedtime battle or deal with whatever stinky mess the kid made

Lavellan doesn't have to worry about losing her teeth, or becoming incontinent, or having any of the myriad health issues that arise from pregnancy and childbirth with limited resources to do anything about it

Solas can teach Lavellan how to take a big wolf form like him once he binds her to his life force so they can live forever and it won't endanger the kid

Taleani doesn't give a shit about having a legacy but who needs one anyway if you live forever?

No kids stuff littering the house means more space for books and dangerous artefacts and frescoes that won't get ruined by sticky hands

No arguments about how to best raise a child. Just arguments about philosophy and war crimes

No kids mean they can sleep all they want and have epic dream escapades without interruptions

Just. No kids in the Fade prison allowed. Or the Fade. Or within a 500 mile radius of Solas and Lavellan. Seriously who the hell thought that was a good idea in the first place

[nightmare-of-homophobes]

It's funny how I saw your post now bc the same question crossed my mind some weeks ago and my general answer still is: I don't fucking know.

My young sister pointed out that her being a divination witch already makes her gay, but she did not give strong enough arguments to support her point.

Now, welcome to my monologue (From now on I'll just pour a mix of my unfiltered thoughts, interpretations of characters and headcanons in an answer while hoping that it'll make some sense or switch a light on your brain):

There's a lot of characteristics that as a whole makes me believe Lilia is a woman lover, tho I don't think any of them screams it (and I think this is the reason why I see/saw people around the fandom labeling Lilia as straight or ace or any other sexuality - what is up to each person, since her sexuality is not confirmed). Like, she's artistic, sassy and effortlessly gains other women trust/appreciation, but does any of those things sign her as gay immediately? I don't think so.

Maybe it's the fact that Lilia kinda tickles the mommy issues of not only the other witches (aka Alice and Agatha) of her coven but also of a good part of her fandom. Or, as someone said in the comments, the way she holds herself - her confidence, body language, expressions. Or her care for her coven, which she can't hold back from developing? Maybe.

But as I wrote this and kept searching in my mind for something that I could point out as "yes, this is certainly what makes Lilia a woman lover", I ended up returning to her backstory and to what my sister said.

Since the first episodes Lilia gave me queer vibes that I couldn't pinpoint why. She kinda always gave me that "single aunt that has been living with her roommate for the latest twenty years" vibes, but episode seven only clarified why those vibes.

Lilia and Agatha may be opposites but they're equally perfect material for queer subtext. Agatha has all her past with her mother while Lilia has her own with her coven. And both their stories revolve around power - and now let's think about power and being a witch in the whole as an allusion to queerness and self acceptance.

Lilia has contact with her powers at a really young age under the help of someone she trusts and love, but with the loss of this someone and now alone and afraid of which consequences her powers could bring, she prefers to hide it in herself and take a place in society where even if spotted as a weirdo she could still make a living. Late in her life she finally finds this specific group of misfits where she feels accepted and comfortable enough to accept back her powers and stop hiding herself from what she is.

We don't have to look too deep in our society to find real Lilias. People who only felt safe to come out late in their lives after hiding under comphet. Maybe we were Lilia at some point in our lives.

So, I know I kinda missed the point of the initial question and dived into a character analysis, but maybe what makes Lilia so queer is her being tragic - oh, god, I'm again putting people in the tragic gay stereotype.

Being a witch - and my sister was somehow right from the start.

But, mostly, by sharing women's experience. And here I'm mostly projecting myself on Lilia because I can't help but relate to her in a lot of ways.

Though I do not see or label myself as a woman, I lived under this term since I was born and I like to joke that I love women as a lesbian.

Trying to point out what gives out Lilia as a woman lover for me is trying to point out why I love women. I don't know, but by sharing the same experiences with women, learning about their struggles and force and getting to know their care and love... How could I not love women?

And here is where I fully project myself on the character because Lilia certainly went through a lot and saw a lot. She saw not only her sisters in the craft but also common women die, but she also saw them resisting and, century by century, getting stronger. She saw the good and bad sides of men and women. And at the end of it all, how could she not love women?

I hope that something in this too-long reply makes sense to you because my answers seem great in my mind, but messy when I write them in English (and they just create more questions in my own mind).

I've been banging my head on the wall for some minutes, and I need all Lilia lovers' help because my gaydar is not working today:

What is something that Lilia does that screams "woman lover" from a mile away?

[all-pacas]

I finished nobody’s fault & chase and I couldn’t understand why chase wouldn’t forgive house. Like obviously he’s traumatised and couldn’t walk but it feels like I’m just missing sth crucial. Chase did reason it with his doubts…but I don’t know if he honestly believed them. Any thoughts?

In a lot of very interesting ways, Nobody's Fault/Chase reads to me like a pretty direct continuation of Teamwork. Of S6. Cameron leaves the show talking about how House is poison, how he ruins people and ruined Chase specifically: House is reckless, House makes people act like him, House has ruined Chase's life. And… it's unfair, but it's not entirely wrong. Chase has become a worse person over the years. He has become a lonelier and more bitter person.

Nobody's Fault makes it fairly clear that legally, the stabbing was not House's fault. Chase fucked up, Adams fucked up, everyone made mistakes. House wasn't really even involved, but at the same time, none of it would have happened if not for House. This is Cameron's "poison" speech come back around: House spends years encouraging recklessness and results and defiance, and eventually it's going to backfire and hurt someone. House never told Chase to murder Dibala, but House taught Chase to act and not care about laws or consequences.

HOUSE: She blames me for Dibala's murder, not you. CHASE: You were barely involved in that case. She knows that. HOUSE: But I created the big, bad, evil climate that allowed it to happen. (teamwork)

CAMERON: You did kill Dibala. By playing God and teaching us to do the same. HOUSE: I taught you to think for yourselves. (teamwork)

COFIELD: You brazenly defied your boss. Now that happened either because Dr. House has established that that's okay in his world, or his prank war distracted you, or House makes medicine a game, and you just wanted to beat him. Whatever the reason, it boils down to the fact that you may never walk again because House created an atmosphere that promotes recklessness. (nobody's fault)

This is actually kind of a theme. We even see shades of it in The Mistake, in House Training, in Wilson urging 13 to work for House because she alone is immune to his influence, in Masters and Cameron leaving entirely: House changes people. Not for the better.

So, does Chase truly blame House for what happened? No. At the end of the day, Chase's loyalty to House did win out, and he defends him pretty strongly to Cofield; in fact, he's also able to point out that House was, despite his appearance, wildly concerned and worried and Chase knew it (let's not forget, Chase has always been very good at reading House). He seems to blame himself (using the same "I would do it again" language as he used in Teamwork). But that doesn't mean he isn't angry at House.

Chase is very similar to Forever, Foreman's reaction to his own near death experience. Foreman almost died, and is putting on an act of being a new person to try and give meaning to the event. Chase does sort of the same thing — except he comes to the opposite conclusion. He almost died, and it seems to have made him realize how completely miserable he is. House isn't to blame for the stabbing. He kind of is for that.

That's kind of a theme with Chase in S8 in particular. He takes a year off and is bored and waiting for House. In a later episode, he wonders why he's still working for House: he's in year seven of a three year fellowship. Foreman is the Dean of Medicine; Cameron is running an ER in Chicago. Chase is exactly where he started. His entire life is working for House. And he kind of hates it. Not House, but… his life, you know? He picked House over his marriage. He picked his fellowship over his very successful surgical career. What has he gotten for it? Divorced, lonely, bitter… stabbed. He's thrown his morals away. He killed a man in cold blood. Is he happy? Probably not.

Chase is unhappy, he feels (somewhat fairly) that his life is not what he wanted, and like Foreman years earlier, he's trying to make changes. He wants out of House's orbit. He's reflecting on what he wants, and his arguments against Moira joining her convent are… pretty telling: She's missing out on getting married. Having kids. Having a successful career. He tells her later he was married once, that he wants a relationship with her. We know these things are true; only two years ago Chase was absolutely convinced he had it with Cameron. But at the same time, he's grasping at straws. He wants to escape, to start over. He blames House for how his life turned out.

CHASE: I need to get away from House and everything that reminds me of him. ADAMS: By breaking the rules, not caring what anyone else thinks. You're gonna get away from him by turning into him? (chase)

CHASE: This has nothing to do with the truth. You don't like that I'm reassessing my life, that I want to change it, that I can. HOUSE: Anyone can screw up a life. I never said that wasn't possible. CHASE: You're incapable of human connection, so you want everyone to be like you. (chase)

And the thing is, Cameron must be rolling in her grave right now, because. This is what she was saying. House ruins people, he poisons them: he has influenced Chase and not for the better. Chase now, finally, agrees. He isn't happy with his life, and he's blaming House the same way Cameron did. He's angry with House and can't forgive House, not because Chase really blames him for the stabbing, but because he's in his words reassessing, he wants to change, he sees House (correctly, mind you) as the symptom of all these changes: it's not fair to blame House — House wasn't sitting and doing this intentionally — but it's inarguable that a decade with House has done this. (And I love how Nobody's Fault underlines just that point. Chase has been here the longest. He has known House the longest.)

But House is right, too. Chase wanting to change is sincere, but it's also a reaction. He is unhappy, but jumping straight to I will live happily ever after with this random lady isn't a solution. And implicitly, Chase agrees: the fact that Chase has spent half the season with very short hair and stubble, then these episodes limping, is not an accident. Nor is the fact that at the end of Chase and going forward, Chase is clean shaven, back to his usual hairstyle, and no longer limping.

I also think their argument at the end of Chase was. Important. House telling him it's okay, even if not in those words. That he isn't an idiot, that he didn't make a mistake or do something wrong (when Chase from his language and unhappiness over the past few years doesn't seem to agree). They've long since left the days where Chase was slavishly seeking House's approval, but that doesn't mean it didn't mean something to finally get it. I think House telling him you didn't do anything wrong was what Chase really needed: not just the words, but hearing it from House, in a moment where Chase is feeling lost and wanting to change and wanting to blame House (for being miserable, for not connecting to others, for being lonely and alone like Chase fears himself)? That mattered.

And we see going forward that Chase actually does change. He becomes close to Park, he stops sleeping around, he leaves PPTH on his own terms, finally (even if it doesn't exactly stick for long). Cameron was right all along that House changed Chase for the worse… but House and Chase seem to realize that doesn't have to stay that way, and that Chase can still change and be happier going forward.

[theambitiouswoman]

I’ve been struggling with feelings of loneliness for years. I’ve met many people and tried to make friends, but I’ve never found someone who truly feels like a good match for me. Most of the time, I noticed that people enjoy gossiping, that I couldn’t trust them, or that their kindness felt insincere. Because of this, I slowly distanced myself from them since we never really connected. Since I work from home, I haven’t had many opportunities to be in social environments, which has always made it difficult for me to make friends. Right now, I only have 2 friends, but even with them, we barely talk anymore. Over time, I feel like our bond has weakened as well. This has always made me see myself as weird or even pathetic because I can’t go out and have fun with friends like others do. I’m 23, and I feel like my youth is slipping away. Since I can’t seem to change this mindset, I’ve lost my confidence, and I no longer feel motivated to do anything. The only person I truly feel close to is my boyfriend. Do you have any advice or suggestions on how I can change my perspective on this? I’d really appreciate it. Thank you so much💗

A lot of people struggle with loneliness, especially in adulthood when deep connections are harder to make.

Instead of focusing on the number of friends, shift your focus to quality over quantity. Some with big friend groups still feel lonely. It’s about finding one or two people who align with you, and that takes time.

People with large friend groups often seem to have it all together, but these groups can lack depth. Having many people around doesn’t always mean healthy connections. Some may enjoy the energy of a crowd but still feel disconnected.

The key difference is that those with deep, quality friendships feel genuinely supported. Having a few close friends is more rewarding than trying to keep up with a big group.

Since you work from home, try putting yourself in environments where like minded people get together—meetups, co working spaces, or online communities. Friendships take time but consistency and shared experiences build connection.

Confidence comes from feeling secure in who you are, even when alone. Instead of focusing on "fixing" this, focus on nurturing yourself. Do things you love, even solo—explore, visit a café, or take a class. The more you embrace your own company, the more you’ll attract the right people.

Don’t underestimate the friendships you already have. Even if you don’t talk often, a simple “Hey, I miss you” could help rekindle the bond. Remember that you also have to be there for people and make time for them when they need you. They also want to feel cared about and appreciated too. Real friends don’t always talk daily, but they’re still there.

The right people will come. Stay open to them.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

i read your horcrux post, its fascinating and very well done! im just stuck on one thing: while i agree that tom definitely has a good share of self-hatred, enough to cause himself pain and endure an agonising process to become immortal, doesnt the whole idea of "killing yourself" for the ritual seem very risky? like what if you actually die lmao then the whole thing was all for naught. i mean i can also see him being confident and arrogant enough to believe he COULD do it without mistakes, but still. seems like a big risk considering his whole shtick is avoiding death as far as possible. anyway thank you for all your metas they are very enjoyable to read and think about!!!

Thank you so much! 💕 I'm glad you liked my Horcrux theory, it's one of the earliest ones I made here and I'm still pretty proud of it.

As for the risk — yeah, it is incredibly risky, that's kind of the point. This is a ritual we know Tom was crazy to attempt multiple times, a ritual in-universe that even just doing it once is considered insanely risky and potentially damaging, not to mention multiple times:

‘Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction. ...’I mean, why mention it then?” she said impatiently, slamming the old book shut;

(HBP)

That was what you told me he said. ‘Further than anybody,’ And I thought I knew what that meant, though the Death Eaters did not. He was referring to his Horcruxes, Horcruxes in the plural, Harry, which I do not believe any other wizard has ever had. 

(HBP) - only part of the quote since the rest of Dumbles' analysis of Voldemort's character in the above section is questionable.

JKR stated in an interview there is a final horrible step that must be taken to make a Horcrux, something beyond just murder. Cannibalism, physical self-mutilation, or masturbating over the corpse (Yes, I have read this theory somewhere) don't make sense because then Harry couldn't become a Horcrux. It doesn't really leave us with many possibilities.

Additionally, Voldemort talks of how only he was skilled and brave enough to attempt it more than once, to go "further than anyone" ever had:

I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal — to conquer death. And now, I was tested, and it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked . . . for I had not been killed, though the curse should have done it.

(GoF)

If there was no risk, more people would make Horcruxes and more people would make multiple Horcruxes. Voldemort himself calls it an "experiment". He wasn't sure it would work at any point but the risk was worth it for him.

when he asks Slughorn what would happen if you made multiple Horcruxes he already made two Horcruxes. He experimented with Horcrux when he had little to no information on them. He experimented magically on himself. Multiple times. (He also mentioned "experiments" in plural so I wonder if he had another method besides Horcruxes that he attempted...). This is not a person who cares about "risk" like a normal person. Riping your soul apart to make a Horcrux, even without my theory, is in itself, a huge risk — and he does so consciously 6 times!

Dumbledore, Slughorn, and Voldemort all talk of Horcruxes like an unknown magic, barely attempted by anyone throughout history. Even Magick Moste Evile doesn't give more than a mention to the concept of Horcruxes because no one actually makes them. (It's the spider georg meme: "average dark wizard makes 1 horcrux in their lifetime factoid actualy just statistical error. average dark wizard makes 0 horcruxes. Horcrux Tom, who lives as a wraith in albenia & made 7 horcruxes, is an outlier adn should not have been counted").

If you need to temporarily kill yourself to become immortal it would explain why not more people have tried it. I mean, Grindelwald wanted to be the Master of Death, so why not make a Horcrux, I'm sure he was familiar with the ritual?

Becouse the risk was too great for him to take.

I talked about this a bit here and @iamnmbr3 has this post about this, but Tom, for all that he is the heir of Slytherin, acts a lot like a Gryffindor. He is prideful, sure, but he is so incredibly brave. Experimenting on himself with a super dangerous ritual 7 times is incredibly in character for him. Yes, he's arrogant, he's sure he'd succeed, but unlike Grindelwald or (younger) Dumbledore, he is willing to take the ultimate risk for the sake of his immortality.

It also makes sense symbolically. Like, to become immortal you have to risk your life — to live forever you must be ready to go through death. It makes sense in a symbolic sort of way. It just feels right.

[hyperbolicreverie]

For the Director's Cut ask game, in Losing Time

How was the reaction of mugiwaras when Robin explained about flevance? And in what moment she did?

Robin would have explained during that first night, while Penguin and Shachi and Bepo were off doing their own painful explanations to the rest of the Heart Pirates. And it wouldn't be a terribly detailed explanation, either: one, Robin respects Law's rights to privacy as much as she can in this instance, and two, she herself does not have the whole truth of what happened, which means she can only take her own knowledge and the few other bits that they have (what Penguin and Shachi say, the small anecdotes Sanji remembers) and try to explain that way. She's a good historian; she'd never make concrete assertions without all the facts or the permission of a primary source ie. Law.

So what she says more or less boils down to "Flevance was destroyed because of a perceived plague that the government aided and abetted in the exacerbation of, and contributed to the destruction of to hide their own involvement. Law is the last survivor of that genocide."

As for reactions...we know Sanji's and Robin's, since they were there for the initial discussion. The rest?

Nami gets that explanation and I think a lot of things click into place for her. She's very smart, and I think she'd make a lot of connections to how Law acts in the face of certain triggers (loss of control, for example) and see herself in that. And she loves children, so now she has to confront the fact that the quiet little boy from the forest becomes the Law she knows. (Maybe she wonders how different she's become from how she was before her own tragedy).

Franky cries. Of course Franky cries. He probably blubbers something about how impressive it is for Law to have held up in the face of that, and if adult!Law saw that he'd probably threaten to chop his limbs off because he'd be embarrassed.

Chopper, predictably, is absolutely horrified. On like, every level. On the medical misunderstandings, on the abandonment of the government, of the lack of care. Chopper already likes Law, and he knows what it's like to lose something to a medical condition you do not know how to heal.

Zoro's take on it is fairly pragmatic. He's experienced life not being fair. He knows that sometimes people just die and there's nothing you can do about it. Law has proven that he's made of strong stuff before this point, and this only proves that point more. If anything, in addition to sympathizing, Zoro respects him more.

Luffy's reaction is basically what you get in the chapter where he talks to little Law. He makes those possible connections between Law's actions in Marineford and Ace, and later when he learns about Lami about how that adds even more context. However, Luffy is Luffy, and he's not ever going to act differently around Law or poke him for more information. He doesn't share himself, and it's fine that Torao doesn't either. If Law wants to talk, he can talk. If he doesn't, that's fine too. Luffy already likes Law and knows what sort of person he is.

Brook knows death. He's polite enough to not comment on seeing the clear markers of tragedy on others, but I imagine getting the explanation fills in a lot of questions he had about Law.

Jinbei is probably the least surprised. He knows what the World Government does and he knows all the sorts of things that can drive people into piracy. It's just a shame that he has to keep adding to that tally, because he considers Law to be an honorable sort. He saved his life. And now this.

Usopp is freaked. Law is one of the most powerful people he's met personally (and one who doesn't want him dead). It's a reminder that on the Grand Line, no one is immune from bad luck, bad experiences, and you're always just an inch away from the worst day of your life.