#;the sadistic pianist

[yokohamapound]

Myshka - Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

I can't believe this is my first Fyodor piece, but here we go... This is silly but the idea wouldn't leave my head for an April Fool's fic.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

He’s nothing but a silhouette. A wall of screens rises up before him, glaring like suns in the dim room. Information flickers across them in a constant, incomprehensible screed. You couldn’t read them even if you wanted to. 

He sits with his back to you, a ragged outline of darkness against the wall of brightness. A fur hat and fur-trimmed collar, only moving every now and then to look at this screen or that, his hands dancing across the keyboard like a concert pianist. You can’t see his face, but his hands are pale, long-fingered, moving almost with minds of their own, independent of each other. 

“I can feel your eyes on me.”

His voice is deeper than one would expect, from such a pretty face. Though he faces away from you now, you remember it well—sharp, delicate features, pale skin, shadowed violet eyes. The thought of being pinned under that stare again makes you shiver. 

You don’t know who he is, or what he wants with you. Just that he swept into your life, plucked you off the street, and here you are. 

Trapped, tense, waiting to discover your fate. Destiny hangs over you like the sword of Damocles. 

So far, all he seems to do is work, tapping away at his keyboard and humming to himself. Others come and go—a man in a black cloak, a jester in white who likes to poke at you and gibber nonsense—but no one seems to have a use for you yet. 

“Nothing to say, myshka?” 

His voice floats over to you, taunting. He insists on speaking to you, even though you don’t—can’t—respond. What would you even say? If you opened your mouth, all that would come out is a frightened squeak. 

It isn’t all bad. You’re given food and drink, somewhere to sleep. Whatever your purpose in this man’s grand design, it doesn’t seem one of suffering. He will keep you alive for as long as he needs you. 

Your silence finally seems to get to him. He turns in his chair, the flickering screens painting his features with uncertain blue-white light. 

Frozen, huddled, you watch him as he regards you in turn. A smile tugs at his mouth, an amused noise bubbling up from in his throat. Oh, you do seem to amuse him. Why is beyond you. Nothing you’ve done is remotely funny. Perhaps he simply enjoys your helplessness. 

“Look at you,” he hums, rising to his feet. “Still so frightened of me?”

His footsteps seem to echo through the cavernous room as he approaches you, picking his way easily between the wires that trail everywhere like vines.  He bends down to get a better look at you, his locks of dark hair shifting around his face as he tilts his head. 

Long, pale fingers reach for you and you cringe backward. The man lets out a low sound, seeming almost…disappointed. But that cannot be right. You know he takes satisfaction in tormenting you. Otherwise, why would you be here?

“Do I not give you everything you need, myshka?” he asks. “Are you hungry? Is that it?”

Freedom! you want to scream. Release me from this cage—

Suddenly, a head of white hair pops around the door frame, long braid swinging. The jester wears a grin like a carnival mask, his eyes crinkled with sadistic amusement. 

“Are you still trying to play with that pet mouse of yours?” he scoffs. “Just give it a morsel of cheese.”

Fyodor looks down at the cage housing the little mouse he plucked off the streets on a whim. Beady black eyes glare at him through the bars, tiny pink paws curled into miniature fists.

And here he thought the creature was warming up to him.

:P

[digital999placebo]

back on my usual shit. Tormenting the one I love. A lidl fanfic snippet beneath cut hehehe (a convo between Gilbert and Roderich on the topic of Germany)

[Somewhere in Continental Europe, 1870]

“You can’t be serious about raising him on your own,” Roderich spits acid, “You have no experience or qualifications outside of war, let me do it.”

“If I can manage an army of men, I believe I’m capable of caring for one child.”

“Children are not trained men, Gilbert.”

“You’re the last person I want to be lectured by on this,” Gilbert cuts in and adjusts his position in the chair. “I mean no offence, Roderich, but I rather have Feliciano beneath me than beside me.”

Roderich makes a strangled sound and opens his mouth to retort that Feliciano is perfectly well-adjusted when Gilbert continues.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t doubt your efficiency in raising regular children. You could turn a stuttering fool into a credentialed politician and a tone-deaf cripple to the most renowned pianist. You and your country have a culture that mine does not. Your understanding of music is something I couldn’t even dream of achieving, but what you lack is the ability to admire a well-oiled machine. I want Ludwig to not only be a force to be reckoned with within the political spectrum, I also want him unbeatable on the field. I want people terrified at the mere mention he’s coming… And that is nothing you can provide.”

Roderich nearly laughs at Gilbert’s delusion. The nation before him couldn’t seriously believe that Ludwig, a wiry and mutilated little thing, a walking blasphemy against God and Mother Nature herself, covered in sutures and wrapped in bandages that needed to be changed daily, was going to become anything but what he was created of, dead tissue. He searches Gilbert’s face for a trace of self-awareness and is horrified when he doesn’t find it.

“That– Ludwig won’t even survive that long,” Roderich manages to get out, quiet, angry, and small. He can’t help how his voice shakes and rises. He’s furious, but can’t say why, perhaps because he feels bad for the little thing Gilbert has created, so frail yet already carrying the weight of Gilbert’s expectations, he’s angry because he knows better and he doesn’t know how to make Gilbert understand that. “He’s blind and mute; incapable of even feeding or relieving himself despite his age. You haven’t created a machine, you haven’t even created a person, you’ve created a thing whose only purpose is to suffer a slow death.”

Gilbert’s mouth tightens and he drums an impatient finger against the chair’s armrest, “You’re underestimating him.”

“I’m realistic, one of us has to be. That thing is suffering every day,” Roderich begs. “It’s sadistic.”

Gilbert hits the armrest with his fist and Roderich reels back.

“Don’t call him that! He’s not a thing, he’s the future of Europe,” Gilbert sneers at him, all composure finally lost, “You sit here and speak as though he were to die any day now, yet you beg me to resign him to your care?” –Gilbert wrinkles his nose in disdain– “I can see why Feliciano turned out the way he did, you have no perseverance, no dignity or strength, giving Ludwig to you would be to cut his throat. You’ve never struggled in a way that matters, nothing worth having is easily attainable. Ludwig will be great.”

Roderich trembles with withheld fury and he curls his lips to match Gilbert’s crude sneer.

“Fine,” he spits, “If that thing makes it at all.”

[sukunasweetheart]

pianist!sukuna...

pianist!sukuna, who is a young and renowned genius that wields endless artistic liberty - never failing to receive a standing ovation from his audience. with his slicked back hair,  and his expensive formal suit that has not a single crease on it; he is the desire of many.

pianist!sukuna is always incisive and strict with himself and with others, building a reputation for being a person not to be carelessly touched; unapproachable.

pianist!sukuna, whose pieces are always chaotic and fierce, resembling an uproar in a battlefield.

pianist!sukuna’s pieces are all perfect, but by all means, they are not without emotion. passion, sometimes anger, and joy. you can really tell he enjoys playing under the spotlight. his music sheets reveal his otherworldly cockiness, almost daring anyone to try and copy the way he works the keys on the piano.

pianist!sukuna, who deems his life perfect and complete in every aspect - he doesn't need anything more than what he has now. but of course, like any cliche love story, all of that topples over when you walk into his life.

an amateur pianist. a newcomer, to this occupation. you were about to go onto your debut concert, when you collided into this man in the hall. he’s obviously annoyed, but is unable to lash out at someone who already looks like they’re about to puke, with terrified eyes.

you run up to stage after apologising profusely, leaving him in the dust. of course, this sadistic man is interested in the kinds of mistakes you’ll make in what seems to be your first official performance, so he makes his way to the audience seats to observe.

there, he sees your same anxious face, stumbling towards the piano in the middle. he’s looking forward to how you’re gonna embarrass yourself in front of the hundreds of people that stare at you, while you settle yourself down before the grand instrument.

he is absolutely taken by surprise however, when your playing begins. it’s as if your nervousness, anxiety, was all an act. your fingers fly across the keys effortlessly, despite the prominent worry you have in your eyes.

when you finish up, sukuna is dearly impressed. not a single mistake was made, and even though maybe some other aspects of your playing could be improved, your future as a pianist is bright, even in sukuna’s eyes.

he greets you with a few slow claps as you make your way towards the steps of the stage.

“not bad at all. still a shame, though. witnessing you embarrass yourself would’ve served equally as great entertainment.”

“excuse me? what are you talki-” 

maybe because your legs lost strength after you were relieved of the tension, you missed a step while going down the stairs and you topple forward, heading straight for a faceplant.

sukuna catches you - or, moreso acted like an invincible wall that prevented you from falling face first.

“what a pitiful thing, acting like a newborn deer. is it your hobby to ram into strangers like this?” your cheek is pressed against his chest, but you’re only worrying about how your make up will smear onto his shirt.

“sorry!” you exclaim, pulling yourself out of his arms as fast as you’d fallen in. he seems kind of bothered that his snide remarks aren’t registering into that little brain of yours.

“i’ve been meaning to ask... who exactly are you...?”

“forget it,” he sighs, waving you off. “do you even know who i am?”

it was supposed to be more of a rhetorical question, because he definitely believed that someone like you would know of someone like him.

it takes him a second to understand your question. there’s no way... there’s no way...

“you- you don’t know me?”

you blink innocently at him and shake your head. the world closes in on him as he furrows his brows. someone like you?? a beginner??? has no idea who he is???? while sukuna starts pondering whether his feats in the musical industry weren’t enough, you awkwardly side-step away from him.

“uh, well. i have someone i need to see so if you’ll excuse me...”

you slip through his fingers and scamper away, leaving him in the dust again.

the rest is in bullet points bc im lazy

sukuna: 0 

you: 1

oh, the embarrassment! the humiliation! you’ll pay for this.

he literally loses sleep over it, smh dramatic man

he plans a revenge... what better way to shove his superiority in your face than to make you work with him, face to face?

a collaboration, it is. it’ll be sure to draw in a lot of attention too, a refined musician like him reaching out to an ignorant novice like you.

it starts off with him bullying you mildly until he eventually discovers that he is attracted to you, like every romance

the whole time, you didnt even realise he was trying to bully you...

being dense asf, whenever he brought up his harsh, spiteful remarks, you thought he was just trying to give you constructive criticism

you improved your playing a lot while working with him and even introduced new perspectives to sukuna about the piano

you: *plays something for him*

sukuna: that was horseshit

you: sorry, i’ll do better!

sukuna: 😐🧍‍♂️(why arent you upset)

the point where he went “shit, im in love” was probably when you excitedly grinned at him after finishing a piece perfectly by following his advice

so then his revenge story turns into a love story

the collab turns out really well, yours and his playing styles harmonising to create an interesting piano album

when he starts pursuing you romantically, it takes a while bc he uses roundabout ways to tell you that he wants you and you’re... well, you’re dumb

“you’re always like this. making me chase you around... tch.”

as for the first kiss, he quite literally demanded it like

“let me kiss you.” sukuna says, pushing you closer to him with an arm wrapped around your waist. you slow blink at him, but you tell him “...okay.” and shut your eyes

and then when he takes you to his bed for the first time, he reveals to you the tattoos he has on his bodyy ;) you stare in awe

"You didn't take me for a conservative man, did you?" He asks with a smirk. "Admire them as you please."

oh and one extra; you convince him to upload a clip of you and him playing ‘heart and soul’ together onto his instagram, how cute would that be

notes; please listen to Liszt - Un Sospiro - this was the piece that i had fallen in love with while trying to immerse myself with some piano music during the creation of this haha <3<3 

tagging; @i4sgwr @skunaskitten @nanamin-3​ @yuujispinkhair​ @nemoyr​

[iwasateenagenosferatu]

She ate 🫀🍷🍖

CRANE

Bàthory Wulfrun.

Ok so Will Graham had a murder husband so my Sim, Katrina Crane can have a murder wife. Bàthory Wulfrun is the sister of wealthy sadist Rodrick Wulfrun. While she is still a monster hiding behind the security wealty brings, she looks down upon her brothers crude methods. A classically trained pianist, Bàthory lures her respectable victims to her state-of-the-art soundproof "composing room" where she proceeds to "play with her food".

She has been very helpful with the newly arrived Special Agents, especially the rising FBI star, Katrina Crane. In Crane, Bàthroy finds her muse.

PLAYLIST

[thewarmestplacetohide]

Dread by the Decade: Best of the 1930s

👻 You can support or commission me on Ko-Fi! ❤️

Dracula (1931 | USA): a doctor and young man must defeat a powerful vampire. ★★★★½ Review | Screenshots | Facts

See below the cut for the rest of the list!

Frankenstein (1931 | USA): a scientist unnaturally creates life. ★★★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931 | USA): a doctor makes a potion that turns him into a violent sadist. ★★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

M (1931 | Germany): the people of Berlin search for a child murderer. ★★★★½ Review | Screenshots | Facts

Freaks (1932 | USA): sideshow performers must save their friend from a cruel trapeze artist. ★★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

Island of Lost Souls (1932 | USA): a man is stranded on a mad scientist's island. ★★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

The Old Dark House (1932 | USA): people shelter in a strange home. ★★★½ Review | Screenshots | Facts

Vampyr – Der Traum des Allan Gray (1932 | Germany): a man must save women from a vampire's curse. ★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

Doctor X (1932 | USA): a doctor tries to catch a serial killer. ★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

La Llorona (1933 | Mexico): a man fears ghosts have cursed his family. ★★★½ Review | Screenshots | Facts

King Kong (1933 | USA): an actress is abducted by a giant ape. ★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

The Invisible Man (1933 | USA): a scientist is driven mad by an experiment that turns him invisible. ★★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

The Black Cat (1934 | USA): a WWI POW seeks the man who betrayed him. ★★★½ Review | Screenshots | Facts

El fantasma del convento (1934 | Mexico): three people shelter in a strange monastery. ★★★½ Review | Screenshots | Facts

The Black Room (1935 | USA): a prophecy foretells that a baron's twin will kill him. ★★★★ Review | Screenshots

The Bride of Frankenstein (1935 | USA): Frankenstein is forced to build his monster a bride. ★★★★½ Review | Screenshots | Facts

Mad Love (1935 | USA): a mad doctor replaces a pianist’s hands with a murderer’s. ★★★½ Review | Screenshots | Facts

The Raven (1935 | USA): a doctor becomes obsessed with a young dancer. ★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

Werewolf of London (1935 | USA): a botanist is cursed. ★★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

The Devil-Doll (1936 | USA): a man uses a shrinking potion to seek revenge. ★★★½ Review | Screenshots | Facts

Fährmann Maria (1936 | Germany): a ferryman ushers Death across the river. ★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

Dracula's Daughter (1936 | USA): Dracula's daughter tries to undo her curse. ★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

Le Golem (1936 | Czechoslovakia): a rabbi reawakens a golem to save his people. ★★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

夜半歌声 (1937 | Republic of China): an actor believes he is being tutored by a ghost. ★★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

The Cat and the Canary (1939; USA): a millionaire's heirs are stalked by a killer. ★★★★ Review | Screenshots | Facts

[acapelladitty]

Um um um Scriddler prompt? Jon is unusually attracted to Ed covered in blood and he hates it and Ed knows (also I love you goodbye)

Love you too 😊💋 have this short thing xx

It all happened rather quickly.

A poor choice of wording, the comment enough to make the part of Jonathan which were tuned to Edward's moods cringe in distaste, was all it took for violence to erupt.

Edward was not a weak man and the sinewy muscle which lined his frame had been slowly honed over years of private self-defence classes and intense engineering work proved more than enough to fell the goon with a quick strike of his cane.

A sickening crunch followed by a jittering stutter of pained surprise filled the small space and Jonathan held back a flinch as the body crumpled into a pile before him. A pool of blood quickly forming just to the side of the moaning head as fast fingers clutched at the open wound.

Edward made quick work of his goal, his cane arcing gracefully through the air with each vicious swing. Heavy blows which soon grew more muted and wet as the protective layering of skull gave way under the assault to expose the precious cargo below.

With rapt attention, Jonathan watched the display with features which one could easily mistake for boredom if they were to disregard the arousal which flashed in his gaze at every sickening thud.

As quickly as it had started, it was over, and both men stood passively in the now-silent room.

The flecks of blood which scored across Edward's face lay like freckles against his pale skin, a kiss of lurid colour which only served to accentuate his features. His breathing was visibly laboured, the twitching mass of flesh at his feet having taken more of his strength than he would have liked.

Jonathan watched him. His eyes sharp and mouth suspiciously dry, the adrenaline of watching Edward's kill thrummed through his veins with every shallow breath as his gaze flitted across the various streaks of blood and gore which coated Edward's frame.

Fresh blood. Unmistakable in both scent and colour. There were none who wore it as beautifully as Edward did with his emerald eyes and flamed hair. Paired with the serene expression which softened his lips and dulled the sharpness of his gaze as he too basked in his fresh kill, Jonathan was momentarily struck in place by the almost ethereal figure which Edward cut.

Edward flexed his pianist fingers against the air, the digits coated in streaks of red due to the force he had enacted with his cane. The scent of copper clung to him like a second skin and Jonathan inhaled it deeply as his body moved of its own accord, drawn like a moth to a particularly enticing flame.

Edward stiffened as Jonathan enveloped him but his stance loosened as thin limbs rubbed against him like a cat, a telltale hardness poking at his hip like an unspoken admission.

"It's not healthy that, you know?" Edward muttered, his voice coated in honey as he revelled in the attention which were so freely offered, its rarity making it a prize to be cherished.

"You look lovely. You wear t-"

Jonathan's words broke off into a muffled moan as Edward tilted his head up to claim his mouth with greedy possession, his hands weaving through Jonathan's russet hair roughly as he tugged at the strands.

Will also upload this to AO3. Links can be found in my pinned post.

Edward was not a man who enjoyed making a mess. However, observance was a skill he held in abundance and he found himself willing to make the odd exception when the rewards proved to be so sweet.

"It's hardly a riddle which requires much thought." Edward hissed as he pulled away, Jonathan's lip chasing his own in a shameful way he would deny in a heartbeat. "Your taste for blood isn't just limited to your own sadistic little experiments."

Avoiding the bait, Jonathan returned to more pleasurable ministrations as he dipped his head to rest his face in the nook of Edward's neck. A few dry droplets of blood were splashed across the skin and the urge to nuzzle against the mess proved strong.

"Jonathan," Edward continued, "wha-christ!"

Jonathan grinned even as he teeth continued their violent path into the flesh of Edward neck, worrying the skin there until it broke, ever so slightly. The hint of fresh blood, the tang of it alighting within Jonathan's mouth like a prayer, sparked an aggressive need within his chest that quickly had him pushing Edward against the nearby wall.

Caged and sporting pupils which were painfully blown, Edward responded in kind as he dug the tips of his fingers into Jonathan's back; his grip to tight that he could feel the flesh beneath Jonathan's shirt as if it weren't even there.

Pain blossoming in his neck forced a growl of aroused discontent from Edward's lips as he slipped his hands higher. He pulled on Jonathan's hair in one vicious tug, the strength of it enough to pull his frisky attacker away.

"You bit me." He accused, spotting the slight tinge of Jonathan's teeth as they sported a little of his blood. "You feral pup. How dare you?"

"I'll do much worse if you release my skull." Jonathan promised, his words honeyed and coated in the promise of violence to come. "I'll throw you to the floor and fuck you right here and now. In the mess."

"What if I say no?"

"You won't."

Edward narrowed his eyes at the challenge, the defiance and violence making his slacks feel very tight across the groin but his rebuttal was cut off by Jonathan continuing.

"And I know it. Because you love it as I do. Blood-stained and adrenaline-fuelled, your ego sings at the fact that i find you desireable like this."

A gasp escaped Edward's throat as Jonathan's spider-like fingers pushed against the obvious tent at his groin, making any denial impossible as arousal rolled through his trembling frame.

Robbed of his argument, Edward neglected to respond and instead settled on looping his fingers around the notches on Jonathan's slacks as he pulled him in closer once more; the scent of blood still hanging, heavy in the air like incense as Edward allowed Jonathan to show him just how desirable he truly were.

[iwashieonhiatus]

"𝘗𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥" (18+) |𝘙𝘖𝘙

ft. Hermes

∗  ˖࣪ ໒꒱  ˚₊· synopsis: Hermes’ hands are too beautiful for you not to notice.

･ﾟﾟ･｡　wc: 969k + warnings- mdni, nsfw content, f!reader, fingering, crying, established relationship, petnames (pretty girl+good girl).

— ☆ A/N: I know he's not a pianist, but hey, look at his hands, they could be and those long fingers don't deny it

----------------------------- ☆ ----------------------------------------------

It was normal at some point in the day for you to hear the sound of the violin, a smile appearing on your lips as you followed the sound to appreciate Hermes playing the instrument so beautifully.

It was magnificent to see him playing; the expressions, the body reacting to the chords, the agile fingers producing beautiful sounds. You loved it more and more. That moment was magnetic, you couldn’t look away from his hands.

Ah, what hands… The long, agile fingers covered by the gloves made you imaginative.

His hands could have been a pianist’s and when asked, he said he could play too and when he showed you; you were more mesmerized by those pretty long fingers.

Those fingers could do so much. You could do so much for those fingers inside you.

“Eh, do you like my fingers that much, pretty girl?” Hermes’ calm voice was so low compared to yours, moaning for him.

You waved your arms, a futile attempt as they were tied above your head and your legs were spread wide, welcoming Hermes in the middle, playing with your wet pussy.

“Use your words, pretty.” You groaned, cocking your head to the side as you felt his bare middle finger slipping inside.

“Y-Yes.” You responded and felt his warm breath on your leg, middle finger in and out and calloused thumb circling your swollen clit.

“Yes, what?” You mumbled, and he pressed his thumb, making you lift your hips off the bed.

“I like your hands…”

“And what else?” He poked another calloused finger, and you squinted, squeezing his digits and sighing heavily. “Huh?”

You writhed on the bed, feeling his fingers slowly in and out and his thumb still playing with your clit, making you wetter. You were already wet enough for the liquid to run down your thighs and smear Hermes’ fingers. His fingers just grazing your folds as you kissed slowly were enough to have you wet, rubbing against his hand.

But Hermes wanted much more than that. You knew he wanted a mess as you moaned his name.

“Your fingers are long… nimble- Oh fuck!” He chuckled softly, and you bucked against the fingers curling inside you.

Hermes continued to pistol his fingers at a slow pace, making you whimper and squirm in search of more. He would twirl his fingers and push them in and out, having you rolling your eyes and moaning his name.

“Her-Hermes, please…” He ignored your plea and continued with the motions, eyes intent on you, receiving every moan, sigh and pleading look you gave him.

“Will you handle one more?” You opened your eyes, staring at him, still feeling his fingers working on you. The dark eyes gleaming and the scarlet drawings contorted by his sadistic expression.

“Hermes, please….” You tried to get up, wiggling your tied arms and legs around his upper body, earning a hand pushing you down again.

“No, no, my love.” His face softening into a sad expression and wagging the index finger of his other hand, still covered by the glove. “Aren’t you my good girl?”

You nodded, shuddering at the feel of another finger teasing your entrance. “So you take one more, like the good girl you are.”

You moaned his name, throwing your head back, feeling three of his fingers stretching you and giving you pleasure as he entered and exited with more speed.

“Good girl.”

You shuddered and squeezed his fingers, moaning for more as you closed your eyes shut. He quickened his movements, thrusting his fingers inside you, making you lift your hips off the bed and beg for him.

Your moans, the wet noise of his fingers going in and out of you, were like music to him as he hummed contentedly, his eyes glued to your writhing figure on the bed.

“Her-Hermes!” He sped up the movements, the muscles in his hand and arm contracting, all to please you.

“Is my good girl close?” He knew the answer just by the way your legs quivered and the way your greedy pussy squeezed and sucked on his fingers.

“Y-Yes! Hermes…” You whimpered his name, your eyes blurred with tears, begging him to give you the pleasure those long, agile fingers were bringing you.

“Then should I…” You choked on a moan as you felt his mouth sucking on your clit and his hot tongue playing in circles. That knot in your stomach is tightening tighter and tighter.

“Hermes!” you moaned, feeling the knot dissolve in pleasure and the liquid gushing out, smearing his face and hand, which were still thrusting in and out quickly, trying to take every last taste from you with his mouth, gulping your juice.

“My good girl…” He withdrew his smeared fingers and brought them to his mouth, savoring your taste and wiped his face with the back of his hand, bringing it to your mouth for you to lick.

He grinned, eyes gleaming at you calming down from your orgasm; chest rising and falling slowly, face flushed, hazy eyes at him, and legs trembling.

Hermes couldn’t hide his smile of satisfaction, knowing that only he could give you the best orgasm with just his long and agile fingers.

You saw him remove his uniform and the bulge in his underwear, soon feeling his weight on top of you as he lowered his waist against yours, brushing your clit and gaining a weak moan from you.

“Will my good girl help me?” You shuddered at the feeling of his waist against yours and the wet kisses on your neck. You nodded, grinding against him, feeling his hard cock throb.

He removed the piece, returning to between your legs, putting the remaining glove in your mouth and with firm hands, caressing your waist, thrust his cock inside you. “Good girl."

---------------------------- ☆ ----------------------------------------------

© iwashie 2023, please do not translate, modify or republish my works

[vashhanamichi]

And what are you up to with that wonderful work titled Venus as a Boy? AND The Partisan - I am super intrigued about that one.

Hello darling thank you for answering the meme btw, I need to head to your blog and demand my snippets soon... So Venus as a Boy is Voldemort and Bellatrix in a Voldemort Wins scenario playing with one bisexual fawn Harry Potter who is flustered and angry and horny about his new evil Daddy and Mommy. It's not incest but they wish it were. Here it is:

“Does he love you?” She asks. Dawn colours the room in gentle mauve, lilac, silver. The french windows are open and the curtains billow in the breeze. Beyond, her sister’s gardens, and further away the boy’s own alcove, the enchanted and delicate prison in which he spends his sainthood, a melancholic bird, for he too was meant for greater planes. That her Lord’s arrow has crippled Harry Potter beyond repair, that this languid doe won’t ever run free again, fills her with breathless pleasure.

Voldemort’s triumph is careless, elegant. As if his expanding empire, the death of Dumbledore, and the capture of the Chosen One are expected notes in a familiar piece, hit, one by one, by a competent pianist.

“He loves me,” and his voice is tender. Between them she’s the greatest sadist. She’s wet again. “...and he thinks he can change me.” Voldemort adds. Bellatrix laughs, giddy with the thought, and feels, such is the strange coil of her nature, a sudden affection for Harry, for faring so well at a victim’s trade.

“Oh, he’s perfect.” She says. “Poor thing. I almost feel sorry.”

“Almost.” Voldemort agrees.

As for The Partisan...well. Omega Harry, Alpha Ron and Beta Hermione are Horcrux hunting. Say Ron never left. Say he stayed and matured, carrying the locket around his neck. Say he changed...

My saviour, Harry thought, my balm. Even delirious as he was then he knew himself to be of a baser realm than his two best friends. Inside, the growing hollowness, and if Voldemort wouldn’t fill it then Ron must, Ron whose scent had matured, changed in the eleven months they had wasted hunting for the Horcruxes, a reek of old wine and clear water on stone. For all his arousal and the whorish creature it turned him into, Harry couldn’t detach himself wholly from shame, from guilt; half-naked, legs spread around Ron’s waist and hips swaying, a constant friction against that which could tame, fulfill and damn him, he still repeated:

“Please. Ah, please, please, don’t look. I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”

“I won’t look,” Ron promised, in the steady, adult voice he had grown into the last few weeks, “I won’t look.” Harry felt those words against his hair, against his ear. Ron’s arms were stronger than his had ever been and held him so firmly that soon his struggle ceased. Under him, he noticed, the Alpha was hard. “I’ll take care of you,” Ron continued, carressing his hair, and in the dark he sounded like someone else. In its peak the fever lulled Harry in and out of that room, between Ron and Voldemort’s voyeristic presence. “Be good for me now.” The Alpha commanded.

“Thank you.” Harry moaned. “Thank you. Oh, Tom. I’ll be good, I promise.”

[brokehorrorfan]

Death and the Maiden has been released on Blu-ray exclusively from Shout Factory. Limited to 1,620, the 1994 psychological thriller is available for $29.98.

Roman Polanski (Rosemary's Baby, The Pianist) - who, I must point out, is a convicted sex offender - directs from a script by Rafael Yglesias (From Hell) and Ariel Dorfman, based on Dorfman's 1990 play. Sigourney Weaver, Ben Kingsley, and Stuart Wilson star.

No special features are included.

15 years ago, Paulina Escobar (Sigourney Weaver) had her life shattered when she was taken prisoner and tortured by a sadistic doctor. Now, through a chance encounter, she may have found the man responsible for her nightmares… and tonight he's going to pay. But how far will she go to get even? And how can she be sure, after so many years, that she has found the right man?

[phanfictioncatalogue]

AU - Canon Divergence (2) Masterlist

part one

a night to remember (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Why did he think going anywhere alone would be a good idea? And to an honest to god queer prom for sad grown-ups who missed out the first time around because they were too busy being closeted.

Bittersweet (ao3) - heylazeh

Summary: “Do you believe that there's another world at the other side of the mirror where everyone is opposite?”

“No.”

“Watch out"

dan and philly's wet moments (ao3) - heartsopenminds

Summary: Phil loathes hiring people to come and fix stuff around the house - he never imagined that watching someone power washing a patio could be so much fun though.

dan is not a pianist (ao3) - Marranje

Summary: How Phil went from watching the pianist and youtuber Dan from afar to being by his side through the most important moments of their lives.

Disturb the Universe (ao3) - iihappydaysii

Summary: Dan and Phil are a successful YouTube duo, best friends and next door neighbors. Phil's married with two kids and Dan's long term boyfriend is like the queen's cousin or something. Their lives are fine--perfectly acceptable--but when two unrelated emergencies land Dan and Phil living together for the first time since 2012, they're forced to examine the choices they've made and confront the feelings they've kept quiet for nearly a decade.

Drips Through (ao3) - artbabe

Summary: Dan goes outside to smoke at a party. Phil joins him.

drop your heart I'll save it for you (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: Tenderness isn't part of the deal, nor are soft words, or feelings, or kisses that don't lead to fucking. It's not what Dan asked for, and it's certainly not why someone would choose to fuck their friend slash flatmate slash colleague who they absolutely don’t have any feelings for.

Equilibrium (ao3) - phan_anon

Summary: It's 2016, and Omega!Dan doesn't need an Alpha to be happy, thank you very much. He's quite content living with best friend, flat mate, business partner, co-author, ex-boyfriend, and occasional lover, Beta!Phil. Quite content, that is, until an unplanned pregnancy disturbs the comfortable equilibrium they've established over the years...

from up here you can't beat the view (just watch me now) (ao3) - kishere, maybeformepersonally

Summary: It's 2009 and Dan finds Phil on the internet when a well-meaning mate of his recommends him to a certain site she likes. Dan quickly becomes a fan: watching Phil's videos religiously and interacting with him on his socials. And, soon enough, Phil starts noticing him.

A familiar enough story on the surface but here's the catch: Phil has never been involved with YouTube.

Phil is a camboy.

Guilty Pleasure (ao3) - ThoughtaThought

Summary: Dan and Phil meet at a BDSM club and decide to play. Dan is a rigger and a masochist. Phil is a sadist and a rope bunny. It’s perfect.

hard launch at last (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: “Maybe the exact right moment won’t ever present itself.” Dan can feel himself hurtling towards some cosmic revelation as they stand here on a sandy beach in Portugal, the ocean bringing out the blue in Phil’s eyes.

I try to picture me without you but I can't (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: After Dan's tragic death, Phil starts having a bunch of strange dreams where he is still alive. But are they really just dreams?

Or: Phil's s̶o̶u̶l̶ consciousness can't cope with Dan's death, so he starts hopping between different universes to look for him.

more than convenient (ao3) - baroquen

Summary: Based on a Tumblr post.

In which Dan keeps seeing Phil as the closest profile on Grindr and finally says "fuck it."

(Except it's very sappy)

nylon is for delicate work (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: A forensic linguist meets a lawyer in Rawtenstall.

re: the apple store guy...IT ALL WORKED OUT! (ao3) - strange_highs_and_strange_lowss

Summary: Based on a craiglist "best of" posting. Apple Store customers Dan and Phil frequent the "missed communications" page. The world's most coincidental first date follows.

rocks wishing to be clouds (ao3) - catboyhowell (bloodyscarab) (ao3) - pinkseason

Summary: i'm a loose bolt of a complete machine. what a match, i'm half-doomed, and you're semi-sweet. - a story about kidnapper voicemails, habitual insecurity, and conversations within conversations.

Tried to do headstands for you (every time I fell on you) (ao3) - popsongnation

Summary: “I’m not always this clumsy and accident prone, I swear,” Dan says, and maybe he’s lying, but Phil doesn’t have to know that. How hard can it be not to injure yourself at a coffee shop? He just needs to remember which way the doors open, and buy new shoes. He’ll be fine.

Or: coffee shop/uni AU in which Dan keeps injuring himself in increasingly ridiculous ways, Phil regularly has to patch him up, and it’s Christmas time.

Two Man Team (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: This is the story of two struggling friends who after many trials and tribulations find their way back to each other and build the life they've always dreamed of.

Or how Phil changed his life by talking to random strangers on the internet.

[starlightgirl242]

Details for the BRUTAL Story of Father Fairest

Lore and Ideas for @benjaminthewolf.

WARNING: The following contains excessive angst, emotional and physical abuse, a lot of sadistic details, graphic violence, gore, and disturbing themes. If you’re disturbed by any of these, talk to your family or loved ones about it. You’re not the only one. 

Reader’s discretion is advised.

Benjamin’s Nightmare [Feel Free to Use]

Everything is encased in a blanket of shadows… No noise, no sound, not even a single spot of light…

But in Soft BF’s P.O.V., he begins to get up, gradually opening his eyes as he hear his heart beating…

Once he’s fully awake, Soft Boyfriend looked around and discovered that he is within a small room that’s enclosed by such intense darkness, he could barely see his hands in front of him. Benjamin wearily begins to wonder about his whereabouts and notices that he’s no longer waking up on a soft, cozy bed. Instead, he woke up on a sleeping bag that’s lying on the hard wooden floor. Soft BF begins to feel his way around the room and over the door, the latter of which was locked tight. Determined to leave the area, Soft Boyfriend continued exploring the mysterious room for something that can help him escape, but there was nothing, not even a single key.

There were only musty, old furniture pieces, empty plastic water bottles, the sleeping bag mentioned earlier, a bucket, and a cat litter box. (Both of the last two are used as a bathroom) Worst yet, Benjamin discovered why there was absolutely no light in the room. The window is heavily boarded up. Heavy curtains hung over the nailed wooden planks, stopping any light that dared to pierce between the cracks. (If there’s a little nook between the planks, Soft Boyfriend would’ve peeked and see a blood red night sky.)

There were rats roaming around the room as well, along with large bloodstains on the floor, which only spooked Soft BF for a little bit. It was at this moment, that he realized that he is back to the one location that brought him so many awful memories. He’s at the attic of the Fairest mansion.

The Fable of the Fragile Fairest Child [DO NOT USE]

When Benjamin Fairest is a child, his biggest dream is to become a well known painter. But, his parents want him to follow his father’s footsteps and become a singer. The music life isn’t what Soft BF wanted, but what they FORCED upon him. He spent all his time and energy singing and studying since middle school. Whereas his grades are at their highest, his musical skills didn’t improve and his parents are getting impatient. 

Even as a kid, Soft Boyfriend noticed that his future wasn’t what his father was worried about… Frank Fairest is afraid to be a disappointment to HIS parents, who happens to be musicians as well. (Softie’s grandmother is a renowned pianist and his grandfather is a world famous opera singer.)

But, the path Soft BF’s parents wanted begin to diverge and then came the bombshell…

Soft Boyfriend’s grandparents told his father that “It’s no use” and “There’s no way an unwilling child like Benjamin could become a singer”. That’s when Soft BF’s grandma begins to comfort her teary eyed grandson with freshly baked cookies, warm hugs, and kisses and tells Soft Boyfriend that “If his passion for making art makes him happy, then he’ll work hard to make sure that his dream will come true!”. His grandfather, on the other hand, chastised both of Benjamin’s parents, telling them that he’s disappointed in them and they can’t even raise a child properly. 

(To put it simply, Soft BF’s grandparents are authoritative, kind, and gentle towards Softie and they love him more than his parents.)

After his grandfather scolded him, Frank Fairest revealed his true colors to his son. He begins to beat Soft BF to a bloody pulp and burn his son’s chest with lit cigarettes in frustration and his wife will spew curse words and insults at him, blaming him for “everything he puts them through”. 

The Imprisoned Son [DO NOT USE]

After the school shooting incident, Benjamin was put into home school when he reached 11th grade in high school. But in actuality, his parents drugged Soft BF during breakfast and locked him up in the attic room. When he wakes up, they tell him that “He’ll be released if he promised to get his stupid dreams out of his head.” (Referring to Soft Pico and Soft Boyfriend’s dream of being a painter.) Each time Benjamin refused, his incarceration will be extended. His parents’ plan was to keep their son confined in the attic until he promised to do everything his parents say. They thought that he would relent on the spot. However, Soft BF furiously vowed to NEVER give in to his parents’ demands and break himself free.

During his imprisonment, Soft Boyfriend is given a water bottle and a few scraps of food to sustain himself. On Fridays, it’s leftovers from this evening’s dinner. However, on weekdays, his parents didn’t give him anything to eat, so he had to fast. And after a while, he was so hungry that he would brutally stomp on mice with his right foot, eat their remains, and guzzles a full bottle of water to keep them down. Soft BF didn’t want to kill any of the living creatures in the attic (the ones that managed to make their way inside), and his stomach is begging him to throw up, but he had no choice.

He would scream until his voice gives out and bash at the door until his knuckles were bloody and bruised. But, each time he cries for help, Father Fairest will enter the attic and starts attacking him relentlessly, with a massive amount of blood drenched in various directions & leaving Benjamin with bloody wounds and a black eye.

No matter how much he pleaded, his parents wouldn’t release Soft BF. No one ever came in the attic, not even to clean up. Benjamin had no contact with the outside world and was isolated in his attic prison from everyone and everything.

It went on like this for 4 years and 9 months until Soft Boyfriend was found by a maid, believing that there’s a ghost in the attic. Afterwards, he is sent to the hospital to recover from the traumatic experience and is given a hearty meal to regain his strength until he’s healthy enough to be discharged.

The Story’s Giant & Tiny Method [Feel Free to Use]

Father Fairest throws a pair of black and white shoes on the floor in front of Soft Boyfriend, which happens to belong to his partner in crime, Soft Pico. Inside of the right shoe, there’s a miniature shrinking device (that tiny little device with four claw-like appendages on the bottom of it and a button on top) that can help Benjamin whenever he’s in trouble. Soft BF grabs the monochrome footwear and retrieve the device posthaste. Without a minute to lose, Soft Boyfriend placed it on his arm and proceeds to push the button to get smaller. 

Once he had been miniaturized, Benjamin begins to make a mad dash towards the attic door, running away from his violent father. On the halfway point, his little legs begin to tire out and he slows down briefly. Sensing his fatigue, the attic rat swiftly rushes up to Soft BF in order to pick him up and gives him a ride to the exit. Just before they can make a quick getaway, Father Fairest stops the rodent by stomping hard on its tail, putting an end to Soft Boyfriend’s great escape. With a sinister smile on his face, Father Fairest picks up his miniature son and scoffs at his pathetic escape plan, even went as far as comparing Benjamin to a rat, which only fuels Soft BF’s anger to a greater extent.

A Scream from a Scary Dream [Feel Free to Use]

Soft Boyfriend suddenly screams his lungs out as soon as he wakes up from his nightmare, scaring off the slumbering birds outside. Once he had calmed down, he’s sitting in the bed of the guest room in Soft Pico’s house (with two pieces of Soft BF’s luggage beside the bed, right where he placed them), relieved that his body, flesh, and clothes stayed intact. 

Just as Benjamin begins to cry, Soft Pico arrives the area in a flash. When Soft BF’s teary eyes met his partner’s concerned gaze, he wastes no time in wrapping both of his arms around Soft Pico, holding him snug and tight against his being whilst allowing himself to cry, his tears flowing freely, as he release all of his emotions at once. Next, Soft Pico asked Soft Boyfriend about what’s troubling him and why is he crying. Benjamin, who’s shedding a lot of tears, tells him about his awful nightmare and his father returning to get his revenge. Afterwards, Soft Pico hugs his saddened partner close to comfort Soft BF and tells him that he’s here for him and his parents are NEVER coming back.

After a few minutes of sobbing, Soft Boyfriend asks Soft Pico if he can sleep with him in his room for tonight. When he confirmed his answer to Benjamin, Soft Pico takes him to his bedroom where a softer and warmer bed patiently awaits (with a refreshing cup of water to boot).

(For context: After the holiday incident at the mall (Soft Mod’s Week 5), Father Fairest is sent to a high-security prison for the criminally insane and serving his life sentence here and Mother Mairest became volatile due to the abuse making headlines & her and her husband’s reputation plummeting to the ground, so much so that hearing the name “Benjamin” infuriates her significantly. Because of this, she became mentally unstable and had to be hospitalized. Soft BF made the decision to pack up his stuff and move out of the Fairest mansion, leaving his metaphorical prison for a better life. When he tells his partner that he’s going to stay at his place instead, Soft Pico couldn’t be any happier and willingly accepts his offer.)

[lumineescente]

Seungjin drabble (slowtober challenge)

hii im doing a thing called slowtober (made by @/oeildesaturne on instagram, french speaking folks check it out!! although be aware of tw mental health and eds talks) and i’m posting on twitter a seungjin au per word

for the ninth days (october 23nd - 27th) the word is "nostalgia" and it's the end of this challenge for me!!

It's the last day to post, it was hard to get inspired I thought of the usual exes to lovers trope but there really was something missing, so I went with a reincarnation/cursed trope

Tw: implied angst and death (thus the reincarnation) in a full fic the ending would be happy

AND if you enjoyed this challenge who is now over you can vote on this form for your favorite that I’ll be writing into a full fic on ao3! (“soumettre” is “submit” btw)

if you want to check all the drabbles you can go here

thank you for your interest for the whole challenge or just this drabble it was fun to do:)

When Seungmin falls asleep he sees it all. 

The first life he has been with Hyunjin, the one life he had thought love was easy, love was given, like he earned it simply because he was alive and so was Hyunjin. They got a bit cocky. Defied the gods because they thought love, their love, was stronger than anything they could throw at them. 

They took Hyunjin away from him. Cursed him to remember it in all his next lives and in spite he swore to never stop looking for Hyunjin in those other lives. 

When he closes his eyes he sees it all. Diseases, hate, wars, everything the gods threw at them to make sure they could not see happiness through their love. Seungmin remembers them all, feels it over and over as they replay in his mind, all to taste Hyunjin's love for the little time the god would allow him in each life. It is all worth it.

After all this time Seungmin has learned that it was no use to search the world for Hyunjin - the life he had spent working as a sailor months on the sea, was carved in his mind like a tattoo - he knew the gods' sadistic little games would make them cave and eventually put Hyunjin in front of him, when he does not expect it most of the time. He is just a pun in all of it, all he can be grateful for is that Hyunjin does not know anything about it. 

All he can be grateful for is that in every life he loved Hyunjin and Hyunjin loved him back over and over, again and again. While Seungmin knows all about him, and wholeheartedly loves everything about the man, no matter which name, no matter which story he carries, Hyunjin always had to learn to love Seungmin and he never failed. It makes Seungmin open his eyes, every time.

In comparison to some of his other lives, this one has been calmer, but awfully lonely. He has never spent so many years without meeting Hyunjin, at least once. He tries to keep it together, and follow his hope and guts that he will eventually end up on him, as he replays in his mind every time he has met Hyunjin. 

In a church. In a pianist concerto. In a painter workshop. In the street. On a bus. 

Hyunjin would smile at him, their eyes would met, a strand of hair would fall on his forehead, Seungmin would have to stop himself from touching him, his heart would beat the same way it always does, like it has been broken all the years he’s spent without him and gets suddenly fixed, back to life when their paths cross once again. Seungmin vowed his eternity to Hyunjin and gladly carried it more like a blessing than a burden. No matter what the gods try to punish him from, he would endure the pain, he would remember the pain, he would be swallowed by the nostalgia when he is by himself and he waits for Hyunjin to bring him back to life. 

Seungmin waits. 

*

On a spring day the city he lives in is always lively. He goes to work and sees a bunch of children going to school hand in hand with their parents, and Seungmun finds himself recalling the very few lives in which he had been able to experience this joy with Hyunjin. 

The days are always similar, the nightmares almost keep him up all night long, and he mindlessly falls into his routine. Today something feels different. Maybe it is because he can not hear any birds chirping when he goes outside, or because the sun shines a bit too brightly and there is no spring breeze to cool it down, and time feels like it has been slowed down. Or maybe Seungmin has just been lonely for too long, missing Hyunjin like a part of him had been taken away from him, and his hope slightly breaks a bit more every day. 

As he walks down the street, he tries to not dwell too much in the nostalgic feeling, the melancholy that is taking up all the space in his heart, almost taking over the love he feels, the love that makes him not fall completely into madness. 

There is a slight ringing of an outside bell that makes him raise his head. There is no wind still the delicate chimes’ noise continues. He looks up to the sign over the top of the boutique and does not recognize the shop. It is an antique shop. He follows his instinct and pushes the front door. 

Seungmin wonders if the shop is empty. He sees no one behind the counter and he hears no noise except from the front bell ringing when he pushes and closes the door. The shop is full of different objects, from furniture to decorations going through jewelry and other accessories. It does not seem like it is organized in any kind of logic, all the objects mixing up with each other no matter what use they are but maybe Seungmin does not know any better. 

He finds himself recognizing some vintage items that he has used during his past lives and finds it amusing that in this time and life they might be considered as valuable or precious. 

Seungmin loses track of time as he explores through the shelves, lost in his memories. He finds what seems to be a twentieth century little metal box that he carefully opens. In it there were a bunch of old letters. The papers seemed to have gone through a hard time, as they were stained, torn in some places, and he could barely read them. The letters feel familiar but he is not sure why. Until he finds under all of them a photograph. 

He almost drops it when he sees it. 

In all the lives he has lived and been reborn into, none of them had ever crossed. Yet he sees his own face in the photograph and next to him, Hyunjin's. It is an old police school's picture from the middle of the twentieth century that he remembers very well. He had met Hyunjin there and they had become best friends for a while. 

There were only a few lives in which he had not had the pleasure and the chance to kiss Hyunjin. This life had been one. With the state of the world, the constant supervision of their officers, two boys being in love was ridiculous. Hyunjin was supposed to marry a girl, the daughter of a family close to him that he had known since childhood. 

Seungmin takes on a deep breath. He tries to not grip the photograph too tightly so as to not damage it. 

Hyunjin never got the opportunity to love either her or him. The attack that killed him happened a few weeks after this photograph was taken. 

"I'm sorry," a voice says behind him, "I didn't realize someone was here." 

He turns around and the surprise makes him drop the photograph. It slides down on the floor until it reaches the feet of the one, owner of the shop surely, who bends down to pick it. His black hair falls in front of his face in the motion. Seungmin feels his legs weak like each time it has happened. 

Hyunjin looks up to him, photographs in hand and smiles at him. Words get choked up in Seungmin's throat. It has been so long and Hyunjin is so beautiful in this life too. Wearing a casual outfit, headphones around his neck and hair tied up in a ponytail. He looks healthy and happy, eyes sparkling and light makeup on, Seungmin notices. 

"Oh," Hyunjin whispers as he looks at the photograph, "you found this? I've always found this photograph very intriguing." 

It takes everything Seungmin has to not run to hug the man in front of him and to just move his head, "really?" He asks. 

Hyunjin gets closer and Seungmin can smell his perfume all over him. He shows him the photograph and points to his own self, not that he could be aware of that. 

"This man's features are so similar to mine," he explains. Seungmin nods slightly. "But I've looked up in my family and I seem to have no connection to him."

Seungmin’s not sure if he manages to utter anything as an answer. Hyunjin points at the box, “the letters are hard to read but some are signed by his name, I found who he was by looking at archives, I think they were never sent."

He seems thoughtful for a moment while Seungmin does not know what to say. 

"Sorry, I must bore you with all this information," he suddenly apologizes. 

"No, no," Seungmin answers, "it sure is a very weird coincidence." 

Hyunjin looks at him with kind eyes and then back at the photograph. 

"Well," he whispers, "it gets even weirder." 

He points at the man in the picture that is Seungmin, the real one holds his breath. 

"This man looks like you." 

Seungmin blinks a few times. There is a voice in head that desperately screams for him to tell Hyunjin everything. But the few times he had tried to do so, Hyunjin never believed him, or their time together was cut even shorter. However, never had they been confronted with this kind of proof. 

“You’re right,” he answers finally. 

Hyunjin shrugs, “maybe it is just a coincidence, right? Some celebrities' faces sometimes look like old paintings or pictures, maybe we just have basic faces…” 

He blushes, “not that I think you look basic.. not at all you’re not basic, your face is very pretty…”

He hides his own face in his hands, embarrassed. Seungmin laughs quietly. 

“Yours is too,” he tells him. 

Even behind the hands he sees the blush expand on Hyunjin’s face. Eventually he gains back his composure and looks back at Seungmin. 

“I’m sorry, it’s my first time ever opening this shop and it’s been my dream but I’m not quite sure what I’m doing,” he tells him. 

“It’s okay. I think it’s very nice that you seem to care about all of it a lot.”

Hyunjin nods, “I sure do. By the way, I’m Hwang Hyunjin.” 

Seungmin freezes. This is also a very unusual thing. In all the other lives, Hyunjin, which was his name in their first life and the name Seungmin has carried with him, had multiple different names. It is the first time he got back to his original name. He looks at the photograph, the letters and then the man. 

“I’m Seungmin,” he says carefully. 

He is not sure what to expect, maybe deep down a sign that Hyunjin would suddenly remember everything. It does not happen. Hyunjin just smiles more. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Seungmin,” and Seungmin adores the way his name sounds in his voice. 

It’s always nice to meet you again and again, he thinks. 

[ourdillo]

🎷📣 - Inoci

🙈 🕷️ - No Name

🚆 🍩 - Thomas

Oh great choices, actually! Thank you!

[INOCI.]

🎷 "Do they play instruments? Are they any good at it?"

Inoci is actually a gifted pianist and violinist! He learned to play the piano and violin after his first two years on earth while he was in his human disguise in Milan, Italy. He was fond of the sounds they made, as they reminded him of his late mothers beautiful hum that he would listen to in the days she was still around his old home. Thanks to his skills, it has made things easier for him to break the ice with anyone he is romantically interested in but also makes for a good distraction and disguise given how a hit is going. There are others he can play but not as good, the worst instrument for him is a flute cuz he just blows it without using his fingers.

📣 "How loud are they? What do they speak like? Got a calm voice?"

So he usually talks quite loud and energetic, often due to his mentality of life and how he views many things as a fun Saturday morning cartoon. Imagine someone who just won the lottery but was coherent with their speech! Now, saying this, he does actually have a calm voice but it's more mood depending. In an interrogation he's a lot calmer, sadistic and menacing with his words as that usually helps get the egg to crack. He can also talk calmly in an almost whisper when he's feeling romantic or seductive, this is only when he wants to set a mood however whether its the wholesome kind or the spicy kind. If he's close enough with a partner he will be his usual loud self but he also knows when to be calmer and more sugary sweet! If he can detect something is bothering his partner, he usually talks low and softly with a shoulder rub to help.

[NO NAME.]

🙈 "What's a side of your OC that they don't want to show other people?"

Ahh good question as No Name is an openly admitted furry, so what would he not want others to see? Well, it would be his strange obsession with the feeling of pudding against his chrome skin. Yes. I'm serious. No Name enjoys how it feels when pudding is gently caressed against him with his favourite locations being his pecs, abs and the face area of his head. It isn't at all sexual, but he's scared people would think it is. It's more a feeling of comfort and... safety for him, he can't explain it himself but it makes him feel more confident in himself. Now obviously he doesn't do it a lot as it's a bitch to wash off and then polish but after a hard case closed he may treat himself to a pudding massage! Also, if he lives with someone and there is pudding in the house, two cups may be missing. Also also, his favourite texture wise is berry pudding.

🕷️ "What is their biggest fear? Do they have any irrational/mundane fears?"

His biggest fear is never being good enough for those he cares for, it's why he's often so clingy and willing to help as he hopes it makes others view him as more than he does himself. Another fear is losing himself, I'd consider him morally grey but willing to do things a certain way to make the best outcome, but he sometimes worries about the possibility that he'd go down a dark path which is actually something he encountered during a dimensional rift. As for irrational/mundane, that's tough to say as he is very calm and stoic with his words and how he behaves but if i could think of one thing it would be mirror houses. He sees his own damn reflection so much, he's fine with mirrors but if he is surrounded by them he may actually crumble into a fetal position and hyperventilate.

[THOMAS.]

🚆"What is there answer to the trolley problem?'

So this is when the trolley is moved once the decision is made, yeah? If so, he would just lazily ask each individual person what their favourite flavour of chips would be and then asl them morality based questions. He would then choose the one person regardless as he feels more lives is better than one. Now, what if the one person is close to him? Then its tricky for him, as he would now have to actually use his brain and think. It depends on how much he loves and enjoys said person too, in the end it would either be a noble sacrifice or "fuck it" and kill others to save his friend/lover. NOW TAKING ASIDE ALL LOGIC he would legit just build a third set of tracks, tie himself down and then wait for some other shmuck to come by and start saying "pick me I enjoy Big Mouth" to further ensure he is chosen.

🍩"Favourite sweet treat?"

He would never answer this as he would just go into a blank and think about the universe, some sweet treats he enjoys would be chocolate, sprinkled donuts, your single OCs (ayy), ice cream and gummy bears. Now, if we were to take all those sweets and lay them down in front of his dumbass, which would he go for? The donut would smell good and catch his attention, but the chocolate especially if a little melted may make his mouth water... your single OCs would fluster him, which would be cooled off nicely by the ice cream which THEN would make the gummy bears taste even better. So, final answer? His favourite sweet is sugar. Just sugar. He will eat a bag of straight sugar. Why did I break all that down for a simple answer? Cuz Thomas is a man who speaks in simple single word phrases, so the fact I typed this much for him, which he never would consider typing or saying, is funny.

[ao3feed-izuku-midoriya]

Singing the House Arrest Away

Singing the House Arrest Away by rainiris

Apart from the evident disappointment, Aizawa looked down at both boys with a deep thoughtful look. Then a chill had crawled up both of the teen's backs as they saw their teacher slowly grow his signature sadist grin.

“I'll give you both a choice. Either you do house arrest for the amount of days I already assigned, or you both audition for Midnight's and Present Mic's musical tomorrow and have your house arrest sentence subtracted by a day.”

Or Midoriya and Bakugou have to sing individually in front of the entire school.

Words: 5631, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Todoroki Shouto, Uraraka Ochako, Iida Tenya, Shinsou Hitoshi, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Class 1-A, Kaminari Denki, Jirou Kyouka

Relationships: Class 1-A & Midoriya Izuku

Additional Tags: Post Ground Beta fight, Drummer Bakugou Katsuki, Pianist Midoriya Izuku, there is not enough in that tag, Singer Midoriya Izuku, Singer Bakugou Katsuki, High School Musical Auditions but not the way you think, Aizawa Regrets Everything, All Might "you're doing great sweetie", stage fright, Anxiety, Midoriya Izuku is a Ray of Sunshine, Song Lyrics, Crack Treated Seriously, Bakugou's character development is still downloading, Supportive Class 1-A, Supportive Midoriya Inko, Supportive Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Supportive Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Bakusquad Shenanigans, I Can't Believe I Wrote This

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47131843

[self-loving-vampire]

Something something yTsukihime something something ミハイル・ロア・バルダムヨォン?

I have complicated feelings about Roa.

On one level, I do like him as a villain. When he's just using SHIKI's body he's nothing too special, and the story doesn't even make much use of all of his alleged magical knowledge.

But when he's trying to take over one of the other characters he's kind of a nightmare. Full body possession is (along with mind control) pretty much the most violating thing I can imagine, especially so if the things you are being made to do are morally abhorrent and painful to you.

I think in the original Tsukihime these are the routes where Roa works best. The ones in which he is like a disease that you get infected with rather than just a pianist-looking dude that you fight. It's not the kind of thing you see often.

However, as a character I am not nearly as interested in him even though he's an immortality-seeking vampire. I should find him completely based, but I don't even find him attractive (despite being a huge masochist!)

A lot of this is actually for the very same reasons that make being possessed by him so horrifying. He is kind of stereotypically Chaotic Evil and jumps to murder and rape at every opportunity. While that kind of fits in the sense that he lives on by violating and ruining others and causes disasters with every reincarnation, it also makes him a bit one-dimensional and uninteresting. He comes off as a giggling sadist with a permanent boner before anything else.

I heard that the remake makes him more complex. Maybe I'll see that version of him a little differently, but even then I imagine Kohaku will always overshadow him as the best villain in Tsukihime.

[theflixdiary]

I Know Who Killed Me (2007) directed by Chris Sivertson

genre: horror, mystery, thriller age rating: 18+ duration: 1h 45m country: United States language : English screenplay : Jeff Hammond

cast: Lindsay Lohan, Julia Ormond, Neal McDonough

plot summary: a small village is being terrorised by a sadistic serial killer who tortures girls for weeks before murdering them. Aubrey Flemming (Lindsay Lohan) is an aspiring pianist and writer - becomes the latest victim when she has disappeared and was found by the roadside. she losses her memory and claiming to be Dakota Moss - a stripper, who just happened to be a character Aubrey created for one of her assignments.

Lindsay Lohan must’ve wanted to break out of her Disney princess shell and try something gritty, but wow, did that gamble backfire! this movie is.. well, it’s a trainwreck. imagine every bad thing you could possibly do in a movie—bad script, weird lighting, and a plot that’s more tangled than a pair of old headphones in your pocket. there’s not a single thing that works. seriously, it’s the kind of film that defines the word “flop.” the plot? oh, it’s a mess. it's like they threw a bunch of random, dark themes in a blender, hit "on," and expected a gourmet thriller to come out. instead, it’s all nonsense. the so-called mystery is so obvious it’s laughable. I mean, the “twist” hits me over the head with a sledgehammer, and I’m left wondering why they thought it was even remotely clever. and that ending? let’s just say it’s as satisfying as an empty pizza box. now, let’s talk about the vibes here: it feels more like a soft-porn attempt than a thriller. there are way too many awkward “sexy” scenes that are neither sexy nor relevant, just pure cringe. they completely miss the mark on suspense, and the horror aspects? they’re scarier in theory than in reality. honestly, it’s like the movie was trying so hard to shock us, but it only ends up embarrassing itself. it just drags on and on, leaving me hoping the credits will roll and put me out of my misery. even Neal McDonough, who’s usually great, looks totally lost here as Lindsay’s adoptive dad. the lines he’s given are cringey beyond belief, like they came straight out of a low-budget soap opera. the dialogue is painfully cheesy, and at some points, I caught myself rolling my eyes so hard I could’ve strained them. Lindsay, though—poor Lindsay. she gives it her best shot, and honestly, she’s talented, but this script is just terrible. it’s sad to watch her be used for her “edgy” appeal rather than her skills. the whole film feels like a desperate attempt to exploit her image, and it’s just a waste of her talent. oh, and the pacing? it’s painfully, brutally slow. endless scenes drag on with zero purpose, leaving me sitting there, wondering if it’ll ever end. this film tries to be edgy and daring, but it ends up being laughable and boring. if you’re hoping for a thriller with any genuine thrills, skip this one. trust me, I’ll never get back the 1 hour and 45 minutes of my life that this movie took.

poster & stills credit: IMDb edited with canva