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01 December 2012 @ 07:46 am
Dollhouse [PART 2]  

Title: Dollhouse
Pairing: Onkey, Onho, Jongkey, Taekey
Rating: R 
Summary: They had always been more than just dolls to Kibum. 
Warnings: So, umm, this would be a pretty messed up fic..

Part 1


“Perfect, perfect Kibum.” They would say. “Handsome and smart, and so, so clever.”

“He’s going to become a plastic surgeon!”

“Only 20 years old! A genius, they say!”

Kibum heard the words echoing in his head as he slept the words of strangers, relatives and loved ones.

Of those that loved him, and those that feared him.

It wasn’t easy, of course, to not feel jealous of a man that has it all.

Kibum had it all.

At 20 years of age, he was known for his skilled hands and genius concentration, one that that left him the title of being the best plastic surgeon Seoul had to offer.

But he didn’t sleep well at night.

So apparently, he didn’t have it all.

His room felt cold and lonely and completely barren. He would roll around his sheets, whimpering and crying as he relived every compliment the public offered him.

It was torture, really, because none of this was real. He didn’t like what he did, and he didn’t like who he became. He didn’t like the man that had left his dolls behind in his parents’ house. He didn’t like the man that got up every morning ritualistically, the man that appeared on talk shows and smiled for the public.

He knew something was wrong with him. Somewhere in the textbooks he’s memorized for his psychology specialist degree, he’s found that he may as well be the craziest of them all.

But he thought it would all be okay; it would be okay once he went back to his parents’ house and found his dolls.

It didn’t turn out that way at all, not when he saw what they could become.

Okay would mean normal, and Kibum had never been normal. He graduated top of his class, became both a plastic surgeon and a doctor by the time he was twenty. Not only was he smart, he was spectacular. His parents were proud and his family's honour was kept, but he was also the owner of a private psychotic ward that was open only to the underprivileged. He was god's gift to men.

He, of course, was so incredibly gifted that he cried himself to sleep every night. He smiled to every patient, and helped anyone in need, but when it came down to him facing himself, he was a broken person that found comfort in dolls.

That was until the dolls weren't enough, and he searched for something greater and better in the pile or plastic figures.

He had found the answer when he found Jonghyun, or rather, Jonghyun found him.


Jonghyun’s name wasn’t really Jonghyun.

Jonghyun had been admitted to the ward when he was just 18, a year younger than Kibum himself. Kibum had tried really hard to make the sad, solemn boy feel at ease. He was a caring psychologist after all.

It wasn’t until a year later that he received Jonghyun’s complete file from another mental hospital, indicating that the other had been admitted due to depression.

Suicidal attempts, it had stated in cold little black print. Parents and sister slaughtered by a gang when the family didn’t have enough money to repay debts, it continued, with Kibum straining his eyes to read the distant scratchy letters a police officer had had hastily copied onto the file.

So sixteen year old Jonghyun had been locked in the closet by his parents, and it wasn’t until two later, when the police pried the doors open that the sobbing, hysterical teen stumbled out, screaming and screaming… and screaming.

And if it weren’t for the neighbors complaining about grotesque odors coming from the Kim household, the police may have never made it in time to find what they had: Three corpses and one starving young man.

It was at this point that Kibum realized there was nothing working for the younger boy, and that nothing hurt him more than his own memories.

So he figured another approach would be better, and he tried not to remind himself about how selfish he was. Nobody would be coming to get Jonghyun after all. He had nobody, just like Kibum.

Kibum decided right there and then that his decision would make the both of them equally happy, although he ignored the small guilty tug on his heart when the other man sobbed into his dinner.

It really wasn’t that hard; just the addiction of a simple pill to Jonghyun’s already full vial.

In the following one year, Jonghyun had been steadily forgetting things, only to have Kibum fill him in on new information. Then came the day when Kibum told Jonghyun his jawbone was supposed to be sharp, only to have the other look in the mirror and realize that they were sharper than they should be.

That night, Kibum had taken him into the operation room. Beside the unconscious Jonghyun laid a doll, hair a fiery blond and jawbones so sharp they looked like they could cut glass. Kibum had worked throughout the night that day, and had left work feeling quite accomplished.

In a hospital bed in the sixteenth floor was a young boy just shy of 19, with bandages covering his entire body and golden blond hair.

Kibum had thrown the doll in a dumpster near the ward.

He didn’t need this doll anymore, because he had a better version.

A living, breathing version.

He had constructed, all on his own, an entirely new person. His doll was truly alive.


Jonghyun never questioned him. The boy only clung to Kibum whenever he could, smiling like a child and whining whenever Kibum pushed him away. It was quite embarrassing, Kibum must admit, having a 21 year old man cling to your arms as you grocery shop. Kibum still liked to think that Jonghyun grew up well though, and that the experiment was not a failure.

Kibum liked how obedient Jonghyun was, how he was like blank paper. He was Jonghyun. Was the doll he had loved dressing up when he was child. And Jonghyun listened well; he absorbed all the information Kibum fed him like a sponge. When Kibum told him his favourite colour was orange, he didn’t hesitate once before committing that to memory and repeating it like a mantra.

That’s what Kibum found himself doing: spending hours molding Jonghyun into the Jonghyun he loved.

But Jonghyun wasn’t enough.


Minho was someone you didn't miss. Standing at over 185 cm tall, and sporting lean muscles as well as a handsome face, he was the perfect example of tall, dark and handsome. But Kibum didn't think his face was right. And when he sat down with the boy, he finally realized the extent of the other's illness. Minho had been calm for one moment and highly aggressive the next, he had been smiling at Kibum just a moment before he was grabbing his collar and screaming in his face. Kibum decided that Minho was hurting too much to fully recover. Or maybe it was just an excuse, because a second later, when Minho was sedated, he slipped the boy his first dose of Venelin It was half a year later that Minho was no longer schizophrenic, nor was he himself. His height stayed the same, but his eyes were double its original size, while his face was smaller, his frown wider.

He was quiet and thoughtful, careful and very suspicious. He was a doll named Minho that Kibum used to love playing dress up with.

Minho wasn’t like Jonghyun. He didn’t stick to Kibum, and preferred to stay by himself. Kibum understood, because this was how Minho was supposed to be like. It still made his clench when hid dolls were becoming better friends than they were with him.

He had always been careful about Minho. The boy’s eyes looked too clear, too intelligent, too scrutinizing. Kibum had once considered giving up on the boy, but had decided to persist at the last moment. Minho was only picky if given choice and room, so Kibum gave him neither. He locked the boy alone and fed him information until he repeated his entire biography and personality from mind.

Minho was harder than Jonghyun, he noted. But Minho was worth it, because whatever person the process created had stuck. Minho the doll was now standing before him.

Kibum realized he hadn’t smiled in a long time. However, when he raised his head from his laptop and saw his two dolls (now humans) sitting patiently on the side of the room and doing nothing but pay uttermost attention to him, he smiled.

It didn’t take long for Kibum to forget about them though, because they were just the process. They were supposed to be insignificant. They were practice.


Taemin hadn't known a time when he wasn't like this. His earliest memory consisted of his parents dropping him off in front of an orphanage before patting him on the head and telling him to eat well.

Ah, the irony.

He hadn't eaten well since, on the contrary.

It was when he was fourteen that the sister in the orphanage had reported to the social help people that Taemin wasn't normal, that there was something wrong with how he behaved.

Normal fourteen year olds didn't starve themselves for days, didn't throw up when he forced food down.

Eat well. Taemin used to scoff at that when adults would pinch his cheeks.

It was when he was fifteen, when he was first admitted to the hospital, due to lack of nutrients, and it was soon after that he joined the rest of the group at the mental ward.

He hadn't been happy with the setup at first, grumbling and complaining like any other teen before his eyes fell on Kibum, who was babying Jonghyun at that moment, attempting to nag him into eating his medication despite the bitterness.

Taemin didn't know why, but he started off his time in the ward being a difficult brat, always complaining and only doing things when Kibum would nag and bribe him.

Unknown to him and not a secret to Kibum, Taemin just needed someone to devote him some attention. He needed to feel loved.

Kibum had really wanted Taemin to join his family, and it was getting quote annoying with both Jonghyun and Minho being the rather obedient two they were.

So he brought out his doll collection again, debating hours and hours with himself before settling on the pretty looking long haired-teen Ken doll.

Personality: sweet, childish, huge appetite.


It was Kibum that got Taemin to start eating regularly.

"Umma makes Taemin happy." the boy had chanted like a child as he snuggled into Kibum's embrace.

"Does umma love taemin?"

Taemin fell asleep before he got a reply.

Kibum had only slipped Taemin half a year of pills before the boy was completely retransformed into the lee Taemin he wanted.

When Kibum had introduced Taemin to the other two, he didn't notice the way Jonghyun's grin got a little tighter.


BTW. The drug name is made up :P I was too lazy to go search up the real ones haha :P 
I hope I'm not confusing anybody :) And Onew has yet to appear... :P 
I still have to edit this :P


Current Mood: happyhappy
Current Music: Going Crazy- Song Jieun ft. Bang Yongguk
named_lc on December 2nd, 2012 07:32 am (UTC)
can't wait for Onew to show up.
Like this fic. Please continue.
B2UTYKISSfantastic_0702 on December 10th, 2012 01:41 am (UTC)
So Kibum is finding real people to make into his real life dolls? OMGoodness...this is freaky lol. I guess it makes some sense since it seems like Kibum is looking for that comfort he had as a child when he took his sisters dolls. -sighs- my poor bummie~
I really like this so please continue.
I sort of sense either Jjongie is jealous or liking Taeminnie lol.
ichigouruhaichigouruha on December 16th, 2012 11:58 pm (UTC)
omfg this is fascinatingly disturbing xD
Please update soon~