#THE MASTERS OF MICROEXPRESSIONS

[ebogosian]

ASSAD ZAMAN as ARMAND in Interview with the Vampire 2.08, And That's The End of It. There's Nothing Else

[theinfinitedivides]

'raat beeti jaaye, din chad aaye, ib ghar jaane toh do… o saiyyaan, ib ghar jaane do… o saiyyaan, hatto jaao tum bade, woh ho…' — saiyaan hatto jaao | heeramandi, 2024, dir. sanjay leela bhansali.

bonus:

[wildsaltair]

hello lovely man 💕

[belit0]

Hcs for Uchihas with a s/o who enjoys getting choked until she faints? For Indra, Madara, Izuna, Obito, Itachi

Hope that’s not too dark to write ☺️

Pip… if you check my masterlist, you're going to find some genuinely dark and demented stuff. This is nothing ajsdhkashdk

Indra

He loves it in a way that feels ancient, like something in his blood always knew he was meant to touch her like this.

When (Y/N) first gasps under the pressure of his hand, the way her lashes flutter and her mouth parts in silent surrender, Indra’s body reacts with a violence he has never known.

He holds her throat not to hurt her, but to own her — to hold the delicate thing that is her life, and feel her trust him enough to fall into darkness willingly.

When she faints, he doesn’t panic. He reveres it.

He pulls her against his chest immediately, whispering her name against her temple, holding her limp, trusting body like a treasure until she blinks back into awareness.

His voice is the first thing she hears: a low, praising growl. -Good girl.-

Madara

Madara is obsessed the second he understands.

Nothing has ever fed his ego, his craving, like watching (Y/N) fall unconscious from his hand wrapped around her throat.

He makes a ritual of it, savoring every moment leading up to it: the widening of her pupils, the weakening of her fingers clutching at his arm, the perfect stillness when she slips away.

He growls her name the moment she faints, fucking through the moment, greedy, almost reverent.

When she wakes, he always kisses her forehead, then her lips, then her throat again, bruising her with love and pride.

He doesn’t just love it — he needs it after a while, as much as air, as much as her.

Izuna

Izuna gets off watching it happen. Literally.

The first time she faints with his hand around her neck, he loses it — spilling in his pants without even touching himself, overwhelmed by the sight.

He never knew he had that kink buried inside him until (Y/N) trusted him enough to show it.

After that, it becomes almost a compulsion; every time he feels her flutter in his grip, his cock throbs, desperate, desperate for her.

He praises her endlessly when she wakes, voice hoarse and raw from how much he feels. --You’re so perfect for me. Fuck, you’re perfect.-

Loves leaving handprint bruises, loves kissing them afterward, worships the mark he leaves on her.

Obito

Obito is terrified at first.

The second (Y/N) faints for the first time under his hand, he yanks back like he burned her, gathering her against him, stammering, heart hammering so loud it hurts.

He panics, thinking he hurt her, that he broke her.

But when she wakes up smiling, dazed but happy, clinging to him — something inside Obito shifts.

He starts learning her, paying obsessive attention to every tiny reaction: the way her eyelids flutter, the way her breathing changes.

Eventually, he learns to love it because he realizes it’s their special thing — the ultimate trust she gives him.

He’ll cry a little the first time she asks him to do it again. Not from sadness — from love.

Itachi

Itachi already knew how before she even asked.

Before (Y/N) ever whispered the words, Itachi had researched, practiced on his own hands, even controlled his strength in sparring just to be ready.

When she finally, finally asks, his hand is already firm and perfect at her throat, his control absolute, scientific, mercilessly tender.

He watches her face the whole time, cataloguing every microexpression, calibrating the pressure until she faints in perfect safety — in perfect surrender.

When she goes limp, he cradles her down like a fallen flower, smoothing her hair back, whispering soft apologies and praises into her skin.

Itachi doesn’t just master the art — he makes it sacred between them.

His favorite part is how she wakes up clinging to him instinctively, like her body knows he is home even before her mind does.

[headcanon-that]

hc that alfred is much more sassy when he's alone with bruce. like when they're with the rest of the family he'll do microexpressions and the occasional passive aggressive comment but when they're alone together he's like

bruce: alfred i am in a situation

alfred: master bruce, you are a situation

[murdertableaux]

The only actor who can break my heart with a single look. That face, those eyes... 😭

ANOTHER ROUND | Original Title: Druk - 2020 • dir. Thomas Vinterberg

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

Who else is in the ‘they are speaking - mind-to-mind’ theory camp?

I’ve had to accept that I’m not going to have time to write the fanfic I have all planned out in my mind. Not if I want to Write Seriously™️ and be a functioning human.

I don’t even have the time to write a long-arse meta like I’d love to. I’d love to spend a whole day just delving into my thoughts but…not gonna happen. As it is I’ve got about 10 minutes until someone gets home and I’ll be expected to do useful things.

So.

I think Aziraphale taught Crowley a useful magic trick in 1941. Our Part 3. Which we see during The Kiss in the Final 15 - when Crowley passes something to Az. What does he pass? Dunno. But it’s got something to do with this new communication ability.

This isn’t Crowley realising his feelings. They have both known their feelings for long enough. This is him realising he needs to put plans into action. Spurred by Nina’s words, and other things. They’ve been too conspicuous. It’s too dangerous. He needs to protect his angel.

All of this - a lot of acting for those listening in, but probably also anger and devastation at Crowley for putting into action the emergency plan without Az’s consent? But rather than being angry, I think this “I forgive you” is genuinely meant. Az knows Crowley saw no other way out for them. I think there’s a degree of bodily autonomy this plan takes away, but Az wants him to know that’s ok. He forgives him.

And that means more than “I love you” to me.

So while Crowley drives, he’s (oooh, is it breaking the law? Is it like talking on the phone?? Demon!) talking to his angel. I believe, telling him he’ll be taking his place as the Grand Duke of Hell. Ready to fuck shit up.

As we have Aziraphale (and Michael Sheen, master of microexpressions) joining in the planning.

Ready to fuck shit up.

And so we have our players manoeuvred into place. Head of Staff of Heaven & Hell. Ostensibly.

Not speaking. Verbally.

But mentally…that’s a different story.

[flunkyofmalcador]

For @vveltergeist @demikov-dog

This fiction is based on their idea. It is SFW. They speculated that things would have gone very differently if the Inquisition sent Titus with the Red Hunters who found him instead of the Deathwatch.

“Chaplain Leandros is here to see you, Chapter Master.”

“Ah.  I’ve been waiting.”  Marneus Calgar finished his signature on a dataslate and set it aside.  He folded his hands on the desk as the skull-masked Ultramarine came down the deep blue carpet runner that led from the great double doors.

Leandros reached the desk and saluted with the sign of the Aquila.  “Chapter Master.”

“Is Demetrian Titus awake?”

Leandros reached up and undid the seals of his helmet.  He lifted it, revealing a scowl that was different than the one he usually affected.  “There is a problem.”

“Sit”.

Leandros did, accepting one of the chairs that were fashioned to accommodate a Primaris in full armour.  

“What is it?” Calgar asked.  “Did he not recover from the surgery?  Have there been side effects?”

“Chapter Master, he has no idea who he is.  The Red Hunters mind-wiped him completely.”

There was silence in the office for a long while.

“He remembers nothing?”

“As far as he knows, he appeared ex nihilo in their Chapter 57 years ago.  His past is sealed away and he’s going by the name Gaius.  I took off my helmet for him.”  Leandros’ gaze lowered to the skull mask on his lap. “He did not know who I was.”

Calgar focused his augmetic eye on the younger Ultramarine.  He zoomed in to observe his microexpressions, from muscle tension to the dilation of his pupils.  Chaplain Leandros was heartbroken.  He’d been made a Chaplain because of his adherence to the Codex over his own emotions, and his ability to keep those emotions in check in the course of his duties.

“I’ll want to see him, with Librarian Tigurius.”

“You can see him at any time.  He will not be leaving the Apothecarium soon.  But I warn you, Chapter Master…he is not Demetrian Titus anymore.”

“I will go to the Apothecarium this evening.”

“I can accompany you and Chief Librarian Tigurius if you want.”

“Yes.  It would probably be helpful.  Thank you, Chaplain. You’re dismissed.  I will see you tonight.”

“I am filled with dread, Varro,” Calgar admitted as the two Ultramarines made their way towards the Apothecarium.  They were both in armour, with Tigurius’s psychic hood engaged.

“It’s been rolling off you for hours.  I didn’t know Captain Titus well, but he seemed exemplary, if a little too imaginative.”

“I’m already thinking of him as dead.”

“It may be the best thing to do.  I take no joy in saying that.”

“I know you don’t.”

They came to one of the individual cells reserved for Astartes who were convalescing.  It was a dim room with a hospital bed centered against one wall.  Gaius/Titus was sitting up in bed, dressed now in a cobalt medical gown, reading from a dataslate.  Leandros was in the corner, and he gestured for him to stay seated as the two top officers entered the room.

“So.  You’re Sergeant Gaius of the Red Hunters.  I’m Chapter Master Marneus Calgar.  This is Chief Librarian Tigurius.”

“You honour me.”

“Are you aware that you are an Ultramarine?

“I see no reason to doubt that I was.  Many Red Hunters came in from other Chapters.  I only remember 57 years, but I’m clearly much older.”

“What did they tell you about your origin?”

“Only what I needed to know.  I was selected for the Red Hunters by the Inquisition.  I spent the first three years re-learning my warrior’s craft, then I was placed as a line brother in the 9th Company.”

Calgar studied him.  He looked a century older, as would be expected. His nose had been broken at some point.  There were two round scars on his forehead where service studs had once been.

“Your squad was wiped out, and as Chaplain Leandros has stated, we saved your life with the Primaris surgery.”

“Does my Chapter know?” “You’ve been reported as missing in action.  We are trying to decide what to do with you.”

“My place is with the Red Hunters.”

“Are you sure?  The Hunters are Codex compliant, you would likely have no problem fitting back into the Ultramarines.”

Gaius/Titus looked down at his hands.  “I’m sure I would adjust well, but Chapter Master,” he raised his striking blue eyes to gaze at him, “I only have a few years of experience, and none of them with you.  Respectfully, I don’t know if it would be the right thing for me to join you.”

Tigurius spoke for the first time.  “Rest, Sergeant Gaius.  Recovering from the surgery is your only responsibility right now.”

The three Ultramarines looked at each other, then Leandros said, “Feel free to call me if you need anything, Brother.  You are not in any trouble.”

They exited and returned to Calgar’s quarters.  They sat on the sofa around a low central table and a chapter serf brought them recaff.

Once Leandros had removed his helmet and they all had mugs in their hands, Calgar said, “Varro, advise us.”

Varro inhaled deeply.  “In my opinion, we should return Sergeant Gaius to his Chapter.  Keeping him would be theft, and it wouldn’t be good for him, either.”

“Throne.”  Leandros ran his ungauntled hand over his face.  “This is my fault.  His destruction is on my shoulders.”

“You’ve done your penance,” Calgar told him.  It was a century ago.  What’s done is done, and we can only move forward from here.”  He looked up at Tigurius.  “Is there nothing left of Titus?”

Tigurius shook his head sadly.  “He us what he says he is.  The Inquisition mind-wiped him very thoroughly. He knows he must have belonged with another chapter once because his earliest memory is of being a full Astartes re-learning how to be an Astartes.  He has no resentment about being mind-wiped.  He feels that it was necessary for reasons he doesn’t need to know and he’s content as a Red Hunter.”

There was silence in the room again.  Calgar poured himself more recaff.

“I will contact Chapter Master Daemar and let them know we have him.”

“They stole him from us,” Leandros protested.

“What if he asked to be mind-wiped?” Tigurius suggested.

More silence.  Leandros finished his recaff.  “I need to lead Night Prayer.  Excuse me, my lords.”

Night prayer would be delayed, Leandros decided.  He went back to the Apothecarium, to the Red Hunter’s room.  His hearts lifted when he found the new Primaris at prayer, a breviary open on his lap, his lips silently forming the words.

Leandros removed his helmet and said, “Your piety is exemplary.”

Gaius/Titus smiled a little.  “I must praise the Emperor for all He has done for me.  I’m blessed to be be in His holy service.”

“I have a tactical question,” Leandros said.

He looked quizzical.  “Is this a test?”

“For my own benefit, not your detriment.  Consider this scenario.  You are in a Thunderhawk, en route to engage orks.  The most direct way down is to fix jetpacks and jump from it to the site.  What do you do?”

The Astartes didn’t hesitate.  “I wouldn’t.  The Codex Astartes does not support that action.  It would displease the Emperor.”

“A strong answer,” Leandros said.  “I will leave you to your orations.”

“When is morning Mass?”

“0600.  If you are sufficiently recovered.”

“I’d like to hear you preach.”

“You will.  Sleep well, Brother.”

“Sanguinius guard your sleep, Brother Chaplain.”

Leandros closed the door, and Gaius returned to his prayer book.  Leandros replaced his helmet and controlled his breathing until he reached the sacristy.  He removed his helmet again and addressed the junior Brother who was placing ribbons in the pages of a book of sermons.

“Brother Alexis, I need you to lead the prayers tonight.”

Alexis nodded, collected the book, and exited.

Finally in private, Leandros permitted himself the tears that had been burning his eyes since Gaius had awakened.  The Codex Astartes indeed did not support dropping to a site with jump packs.  

Captain Demetrian Titus was dead.

[nickssidewitch]

🦸🏻‍♂️⚡️~Sturniolo & Friends— Superhero AU~✨🦸🏾‍♀️

The Alternate Universe where your favorite (or not so favorite) YouTubers have superpowers.

I used my tarot and energy reading abilities to figure out what powers they could have! 🥰🤍✨

✨…Here are just a few:

🩻🧘🏻 Nick:

Teleportation

Telekinesis

Telepathy

X-Ray Vision

Aura Sight

Sonic Scream (yell really loud to damage people)

🫂🦋 Matt:

Flight

Clairsentience

Clairempathy

Pathokinesis or Emotion Manipulation (Can make people fall in love with him, cry, etc.) but this is suppressed due to embarrassment and ethical reasons

🏃🏻‍♂️💨 Chris:

Super Strength

Super Speed

Enhanced Agility

Precognition (can see flashes of the future)

🌱🤺 Larri:

Elite Fighting Skills (can time hits perfectly and knows weak spots)

Nature Communication (Zoolingualism, can talk to animals; Botanilinguism, can talk to plants)

🌬️❄️ Tara:

Cryokinesis

Size Shifting/Shrinking (can change her height, but unfortunately she can't grow taller than she already is)

☄️🔥 Jake:

Pyrokinesis

Super Strength

🌘👻 Johnnie:

Medium (sees spirits and can communicate with them)

Nightvision

Invisibility

Siren (sings to hypnotize)

⚙️🔌 Carrington:

Laser-eyes

Electrokinesis

Inventor/Craftsman (Can build literally anything; best in the universe)

Master Manipulator/Persuasive

🐈‍⬛📸 Quen:

Photographic memory

Cat-like powers (getting through tough spaces, growing claws, balance)

🎰💵 Justin:

Psychic/Clairvoyant/Clairaudient

Body language expert (Can study people’s expressions, even microexpressions and know their next movements)

[ineffableigh]

HE REALLY DOES THOUGH

And it's so subtle, along with the shift in his eyebrows that makes his face a touch sadder, but only AFTER Crowley offers to let him stay at his place.

Aziraphale is sad about the bookshop, but even sadder about Crowley being so kind to him and his 'side' keeping them apart.

just watched the last s1 good omens episode and BEFORE THEY GO ON THE BUS AND CROWLEY IS LIKE "you can stay at my place, if you like" AZIRAPHALE FUCKING LOOKS DOWN AT HIS LIPS THANK YOU GOD AND MICHAEL SHEEN

[hannahbarberra162]

Opposites of Attraction (Kid x Reader, Enemies to Lovers)

No gods no masters only 1 million WIPs

A huge huge thanks to @nocturnalrorobin and @limitlesstildil for beta-ing this during the holidays for my needy ass.

18+ MDNI on Ao3

The other chapters

Kid POV

Walking around town on some shithole island he’d already forgotten the name of, Kid felt a strong pull towards the local dive bar. He and Killer had been going in that direction anyway, but the pull made him curious. He didn’t often feel them, it took a significant amount of metal for him to feel a pull that strong. With his Jiki Jiki no mi he could detect even trace amounts of iron, cobalt, and nickel but usually allowed the feeling to wash over him unnoticed. But this wasn’t a trace amount, this was something significant. And whatever it was, he wanted it. Even though he had complete mastery over his fruit, it relied on having metal to manipulate. In this part of the Grand Line, high-quality iron was difficult to find and Kid was working on accumulating as much as he could to prepare for upcoming battles. Whatever the metal was, he wanted it on his ship.

“A cannon?” Killer asked, seemingly apropos of nothing. After spending so many years together, Killer could read Kid’s microexpressions with ease and vice versa. On the battlefield it worked like telekenesis, helping the pair devastate whoever was in their path. During peacetime it helped them bed whoever they set their sights on with smooth talk and cheeky flirting, capturing and breaking hearts with ease all up and down the Grand Line.

“No, not a cannon, hafta find out,” Kid stated, throwing open the door to the bar. The air was heavy with dust and the smell of stale alcohol hit his nose as he scanned through the room. Nothing was amiss from a dive bar - there was booze, darts, a pool table, and various people drinking and talking loudly. There wasn’t anything significant made of metal at the business, only barstools, tables, and cups composed mostly of wood with only metal nails tugging at his consciousness. Locating the large amount of iron again, Kid found the metal deposit had moved locations and was now heading out the door as if on foot. Further intrigued, Kid attracted whatever the metal was gently, not wanting to damage it in case it was something precious.

Your POV

There was only one person you didn’t want to meet on the Grand Line. None of the high-bounty pirates bothered you in the slightest  - except for one. If you died, well, it came with the territory of being a mercenary. You lived your life without fear, taking on jobs you wanted and turning down those you didn’t. It had landed you wherever you were at the moment on the Grand Line, looking for another job to take.

You were a fairly well-known mercenary on the Grand Line, notorious for using your Logia Devil Fruit in creative ways. As the owner of the Iron-Iron fruit, you had the ability to turn yourself completely into iron but also to make and manipulate iron as well. You could duplicate keys and pick locks in seconds, you could turn into molten iron and, of course, you could mold your arms into giant hammers and smash anyone in your way. You could protect yourself and others with shields, create shrapnel and expel it at rapid speeds, and even make your own silverware. You had worked hard to master your fruit and felt confident in your ability to fight for hire. Being so versatile meant you were able to demand a high salary if someone was seeking you out specifically. You were happy with your life as you’d made it, adventures of your choosing awaiting you at every turn.

Now, the one person you didn’t want to meet was across the bar, flexing his gigantic metal hand as he stood in the doorway, looking around. Quickly chugging the rest of your beer you slammed the glass down on the bar and hightailed it out the back door. You knew very well who he was - Eustass “Captain” Kid - and you had no desire to ever meet him face to face. Nearly sprinting out the door, you made your escape into the alleyway that led back to the town.

Or you tried to. 

You were being attracted to Kid by his Devil Fruit power, being pulled against your will towards the Captain. You had feared something like this would happen - even without using your fruit power some amount of your essense was tied to the Iron Iron fruit, giving Kid the ability to magnetize you. Scrambling for purchase, you tried holding on to the doorframe of the back door but the pull was too strong. Your whole body felt like it was being pulled towards Kid and you had to let go of the doorframe or your fingernails would be ripped off. You decided to try for the dignified route and go to him instead of being pulled. Turning on your heel, you marched up to the Captain of the Kid Pirates faster than the pull was dragging you. It almost felt like you were flying as you moved with the magnetism instead of fighting it.

“Oi. What do you want?” you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Kid was taller than you’d expected, towering over you with a frown. He was massive, his wanted posters not doing justice to how solid he was. You resisted the urge to punch him with an iron fist for pulling you to him. For now. You could feel his magnetism still drawing you in as you continued to step closer to him. He didn’t step back.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, scowling down at you.

“You brought me here, shithead. You tell me,” you snapped back unamused. The Captain might have some kind of control over your body movements but he didn’t control your mouth. And yes, maybe it had gotten you in trouble before but with your Logia power, you never had a problem backing it up. By now you were practically stepping on his feet as he remained where he stood.

“The fuck you talkin’ about Squirt? You some kinda robot? And the fuck you doing?” he asked, looking you up and down while you were compelled to get even closer to him. You had to tilt your face up to avoid smushing it into his bare, muscled chest.

“You some kinda idiot?” you retorted, trying to ignore the weird position the magnetism had you in. God, if Kid was always this dense you weren’t sure how he’d gotten so far in life. Though if that wasn’t a pistol in his pocket, you could form a guess. You were completely flush against him, your chest to his front. His large body was radiating heat and you had a fleeting urge to hug him. As a Logia user, you didn’t really get cold but you didn’t often get to feel warm either. You avoided most touch outside of violence and sex, this may have been the closest you’d been to a man in a while. Kid smelled better than you expected as well, like well-worn leather and oil rather than body odor and stale piss like you’d imagined he would.

“She’s that mercenary,” the Massacre Soldier interjected, holding a beer in his hand. You idly wondered how he’d drink it with the mask on but he pulled a metal straw out of his pocket. It attracted and stuck to Kid’s metal arm as the pull was still going.

“Turn it off. I want to drink,” Killer requested calmly. The Captain grunted but finally turned off his magnetism and Killer grabbed his straw off his Captain’s arm before it fell to the ground. You were able to take a few steps back and glare at the man ruining your night and possibly your life. 

“You that Iron Logia user?” he asked with a wicked grin. 

“You already know the fuckin’ answer, dickwad. Why were you looking for me? And don’t call me Squirt, assface,” you said with a toss of your head.

“Got a mouth on you, huh? Don’t matter, join my crew - I can use your powers. You make metal and I could use it to make weapons and -” the Captain started explaining his reasoning as you tuned him out. He’d clearly already thought about some schemes and ideas for your future and you weren’t interested in finding out what they were.

“No,” you stated firmly, grabbing a large beer off a waitress’s tray as she passed by. 

“Why the fuck not? It’s better than anything else you’d be doing. What, you need to escort more asshole nobles to a summer island for vacation or some shit like that?” he balked as you chugged the dark ale in one go. Wiping your mouth on the back of your hand, you dropped the mug to the floor and crushed it under your foot. 

“Cus I don’t want to,” you said, taking another step towards the Captain. This time it was by choice you felt like getting in his face and confronting him.

“You’re already a mercenary, what’s the fuckin’ difference between joining my crew and anyone else’s? We’re a strong crew, my bounty is 3 billion, you can’t do better than that,” Kid demanded, his red-painted mouth sputtering with anger as if the idea that you’d refuse never occurred to him. 

“The difference is I don’t want to,” you explained calmly as if you were talking to a child. It only enraged the Captain more as he turned as red as his hair. You had a feeling that if you stepped foot on the Victoria Punk, you’d never get off it. More than that, you didn’t want to be around someone who could control your body whenever they wanted to. You weren’t sure exactly what the limitations of your fruit were when not in use, but being around Kid meant your powers would just be an extension of his own - something he had already figured out. No, you wanted to keep your freedom and your life and that didn’t include being the metal monkey for one Eustass Kid and his gigantic ego.

But there was more to it than that. You’d heard about his personality and what he was like so you knew a working relationship wouldn’t be possible. He was crude, stubborn, brash, quick to anger, and so were you. You’d contracted with similar high maintenance Captains in the past and it had never worked out. You became a mercenary because you didn’t like taking orders or being beholden to anyone and someone like Kid couldn’t handle insubordination. His ego was larger than his already gigantic skull and you wouldn’t be able to resist butting heads every chance you got. Kid was the exact kind of Captain you refused to take contracts from, even without the Jiki Jiki no mi. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the Massacre Soldier watching the heated conversation while drinking his beer with the straw. The mask didn’t allow his expressions to show but you got an impression of amusement from the infamous first mate.

“Well, too bad for you Squirt. I don’t care about what you want and don’t want,” he said while mimicking your higher voice. “I need metal and you’re gonna make it. Now let’s get drunk,” the Captain stated, turning with a flourish to go to the bar, his cape billowing behind him. You made one more attempt to flee from Kid but before you made it two steps you were attached to his metal arm, held in place by a strong magnetic field. You felt like a decorative magnet as your limbs dangled helplessly off his arm while your torso was stuck to him. You took up nearly the whole metal contraption with your body but he paid you no mind. You tried wiggling and squirming but nothing was going to dislodge you from his arm until he turned off the field.

“Turn it off you fuckin’ cocksleeve! Put me down right the fuck NOW!” you demanded, making your fist into iron out of habit. As expected, it magnetized to his arm instantly with a loud clang before you could even pull back to punch him. Kid laughed in your face as you glowered at him.

“That was your plan? Turn into more metal for me to magnetize? Dumb fuckin’ idea, Squirt,” he said, reaching the bar. Kid jostled your entire body as he slammed his flesh fist onto the bar, cracking the wood in two.

“Oi! Barkeep! Get me a shot glass and some booze,” he bellowed across the room to the panicking barkeep. The Kid pirates were known for creating chaos at the slightest inconvenience, yet another grievance you had against them. Though you often felt like destroying things, it made coming back to any particular island more difficult. Following along with a crew or scoping out locations was considerably harder when the Kid pirates left an island as a decimated crater.

“Get me somethin’ too! Fucking cheap ass,” you grumbled, still attached to his arm. You were slightly impressed that he carried you like you weighed nothing, which gave you an idea. You turned your entire body to iron suddenly, causing him to dip on one side due to your immense increase in weight. If you caught him off guard, maybe he’d drop the field and you could get away. Unfortunately, Kid grunted but righted himself quickly, pulling his arm up to the bar once more. He was as strong as he looked, the muscles weren’t just for show, you thought to yourself. 

“Quit bein’ so fuckin’ annoying!” Kid complained, taking his first shot. You tried grabbing the bottle of booze but he held it out of your reach easily. You felt like a kid who was being held back by their head, swinging their arms and legs in a futile effort to hit their opponent.

“Me?! Being annoying!? You’re kidnapping me you titty-twisted ape!” you yelled back, turning yourself back to flesh to talk. If being completely metal wasn’t going to work you’d at least be able to give him a piece of your mind before he took you to his ship.

“I’m not kidnapping you, I’m hiring you permanently,” Kid said with a snicker. Reaching over the counter and grabbing a few more bottles, Kid turned away from the bar. Popping the cork off some rum, he drank directly from the bottle. He handed the unopened bottle to the Massacre Soldier, who did the same but stuck his straw in it instead.

“And your contract starts now,” he said with finality, leaving the dive with the Massacre Soldier following. Everything in you wanted to flail and scream but it wouldn’t do any good, you were made of iron and he controlled magnetic fields. You assumed he was heading back to his ship to drink more and pass out. You had a similar plan until Kid had ruined it. Still dangling, you considered the masked man walking alongside Kid. 

“Hi, you must be the Massacre Soldier. It’s nice to meet you. I’m a big fan of your work,” you said pleasantly, sticking out your hand. The man stuck out his own scarred arm and shook your hand with a firm grasp.

“Killer. Nice to meet you too,” Killer responded pleasantly. You smiled at him and hoped he did the same behind the mask. 

“What the fuck? You talk nice to him but not me?” Kid said, shaking you slightly.

“Fuck you, you’re kidnapping me. I have no problems with Killer, why would I be rude? I’m not a dick to random strangers,” you finished with a hiss. It was getting tiring being carried around like a purse. Intent on resuming your conversation, you looked at Killer again.

“If you’re ever interested in becoming a mercenary, let me know. I think we’d work well together,” you continued, nodding at the handsome man as the three of you reached the docks.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! You can’t recruit Killer while I’m recruiting -”

“Kidnapping -”

“Recruiting you!” Kid yelled into your face as he brought you up to his own. You narrowed your eyes. No one - no one - yelled at you like that and got away with it. Not anymore. You couldn’t hit him so you did the next best thing. 

You spat in his face.

Kid POV

The glob of spit trailed slowly down his cheek as he stared at you incredulously, a growl escaping his throat. You pointed your finger at him defiantly and spoke quietly, nearly a whisper, undeterred by his reddening face and growing anger. You were either stupid or brave - he didn’t particularly care right now. Kid wouldn’t tolerate disrespect of any kind, especially not in front of his crew. Kid knew Killer was watching, waiting to see what he’d do.

“Don’t ever speak to me like that,” you said, your eyes flashing with rage. Kid was so shocked that he had yet to respond to you. He’d talk to you however he liked, he was the Captain of the crew and you worked for him now. Coming up with a quick plan, Kid smiled his most menacing grin at you. It didn’t seem to have the intended effect as you weren’t cowed in the slightest. He didn’t want to hurt you, he still needed you to make metal for him. Besides, you’d be on his crew now and he never hurt his own crew members intentionally.

“I’ll say whatever I want, Squirt. But I don’t think you can,” he sneered, using his magnetism with a little finesse. As expected, your mouth slammed shut, leaving you unable to speak or even move your lips. He hadn’t thought through all the implications of you being made of iron when he first met you but now he could really see the value in having you aboard. He could control your every movement if he wished, down to your lush little mouth. You tried showing him your anger through your eyes but Kid just laughed. 

“Much better now, huh? Don’t have to listen to your bullshit yapping,” Kid said, sitting in the dinghy of the ship. Holding his arm over the side, he held his arm with you face down over the water as he repelled the boat towards his beloved Victoria Punk. 

“Don’t piss me off too much or the last sight you’ll see is my sweet face,” he sneered. You flipped him off with your free hand, pissing him off even more. Kid decided to have a little fun and dunked his arm up to the shoulder (and you) underwater, just for a few seconds. Kid relished the panic on your face the moment before you realized his intention and the inevitability of being dipped in the water. His metal arm got wet but it was worth it to see you sputtering in indignation with your now sopping hair sticking to your face. 

“Might want to let her open her mouth for a moment to breathe,” Killer suggested, tying the dinghy to the Punk as you breathed as rapidly as you could through your nose.

“Nah, you’re fine, ain’t you?” Kid asked, shaking off his arm. You, of course, didn’t answer. Kid laughed, enjoying the fury on your expressive face as you shook your limbs in an attempt to get off as much seawater as you could. You took in the ship adorned with a fish skeleton in front of you, your eyes skittering across the multitude of metal adorning the ship.

“Welcome to the Victoria Punk, Squirt.”

[avoicebehindthestars]

Michael out-Daviding David at Daviding

(I'd really like a twin post for David pretending to be Michael pretending to be Aziraphale pretending to be Crowley to go along with this)

michael as crowley appreciation post, because reasons 👀

[shinsocest]

No.004

AKA: "Possession"

Notes: I think this one was from an old collab with a fae theme, but i cant remember who hosted. Anyways enjoy :) (I was rooting for big brother Megumi in the last vote so rest assured it will be an option in the next poll!)

wc: 3.5k

Warnings: fem reader, all characters are fae, natsuo cares for you, dubcon/noncon, incest (brother/sister main, mention of father/daughter), manipulation, very twisted daddy issues, no protection, very self-indulgent size kink, infidelity but you gotta squint really hard

Natsuo tries to watch the ceremony before him.

It's a happy day, a day of jubilation for the clan. The chieftain's youngest daughter is getting bonded today, and to one of the best hunters no less. He's supposed to be happy, happy for you, but it's impossible. He keeps a smile painted on his face whenever you meet his eyes, but his eyes flicker to the object of his inner turmoil whenever you return to the celebrations, nuzzling up to your new mate with shining eyes.

Enji, the Salamander Chieftain, and his ever-present scowl, the flames wreathing his figure dancing and twisting in the air. His father. Any among the clan would attest that this is always how he appears, but Natsuo knows better. When you want something, you keep your eyes on it—so Natsuo knows every little tick, every microexpression the elemental chieftain possesses. The way his flames move now indicates his displeasure, those piercing eyes of his never once leaving his daughter. Any father would be pleased to marry his daughter off to a hunter like Bakugou Katsuki. Despite being younger, the explosive Salamander had earned his place as your suitor. Strong and fierce, he would be able to protect you and provide. His bond to you would strengthen the clan. 

But that means nothing to a spirit as possessive as Enji. 

Natsuo has known for some time that his—your—father has harbored a possessive claim over you for far too long. By now it should be obvious to many, but he's sure many within the clan overlook it, because who would question the Chief? He's the strongest one here. Challenging him would get you nowhere.

Heat simmers in the clearing as Katsuki returns your eager affection, and Natsuo watches warily as Enji's scowl deepens and his flames rise, only to dissipate as he's approached by his youngest son. 

Natsuo watches how Shouto murmurs only a few words, awed and jealous that it's all it takes to dampen the heat of Enji's glare. All it takes for him to roll his shoulders and rein in his flames. 

That's what it means to be the favored child.

Enji's marriage to one of the winter nymphs came as an initial disturbance to the clan, but as a few children came into view, namely Shouto, all reservations died out. First was Touya, who inherited the Chieftain's flame strength but could hunt in blizzards, entirely unaffected by the cold and keeping the clan fed during the biting winter months. Then Fuyumi, who could shield the village from snowfall, alongside Natsuo himself. You were the first golden child, able to control snowfall itself while also being able to wield a small amount of flame, the first to use both; a true Salamander child who could also control the winter element was unheard of, both beautiful and powerful. 

However, your powers were eclipsed by the youngest, when Shouto was born with the ability to wield both ice and flame, a true destructive prodigy. Oh, how Enji preened at Shouto's power as if some master plan had come to fruition. 

You and Shouto were Enji's most prized possessions, and Natsuo is privy to all of his father's discontent at your forthcoming separation. Tonight you would go through the rituals, an age-old tradition that would prepare you as a maiden to be sent to Katsuki's bedside the following day. From then on you would begin your own life. 

The embers danced into the indigo sky that night as the festivities roared on, magic crackling in the veins of everyone present. Wine poured freely. The air smelled of juniper and hazel, and tasted of honey; merriment and enchantment shining bright enough to disguise the darkness looming on the horizon.

Only Natsuo notices the Chieftain's early departure, slipping between the huts and away from laughter.

Glancing around warily, Natsuo follows. Like always, no one noticed as he padded away. Safely in the middle of the line for inheritance, Natsuo is used to being overlooked, grateful for it. 

Enji is a beautiful wreath of light as he pads through the trees, the warm orange glow reaching out all around him. To Natsuo he looks like a god, passing benevolently through his domain. He is the largest of the Salamanders, the most imposing. The wrath Enji is capable of is what keeps the clan safe, and keeps the other spirits and fae from encroaching on the Salamander borders. 

Natsuo tells himself that's where his admiration comes from—that it is just admiration. Out of all Enji's children, Natsuo knows he is the least impressive, the least Salamander. Like his mother, his skin is arctic, lacking the scaled red of his kin; his hair is pure and light, reflecting the northern snows instead of the crimson heat of the mountains; his eyes portray frozen lakes instead of molten rivers. Natsuo reasons that he simply admires and aspires to be like the other Salamanders, despite his inability to wield the hearth flames. He's received little more than dismissive words and glances from Enji over the years. Which is fine, he doesn't need the Chieftain's attention. 

He tells himself this constantly... Lies to himself constantly. 

Because the truth is too damning. 

Because no one should ever think about their own father the way he did. It was wrong, sick even. But neither could he stop.

Every night without fail, Natsuo found himself fisting his cock or fingering his ass open to the idea of his father towering over his body. Natsuo knew he was tall, inheriting his father's physique, but even he was small in comparison to the clan's strongest warrior. Half a foot taller, body covered in thick muscle—that the younger man should not be drooling at the thought of—Enji was a beast of a Salamander. And Natsuo’s darkest, strongest desire is to know what it would feel like to be caged beneath him, split open on his cock.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it, maybe because he knew it would never happen. Natsuo claimed to be fine with the current nonrelationship, that it didn’t bother him, but deep down he knew that wasn’t true. He even knew on a level that it was the lack of attention that was the reason he was plagued by these sick twisted thoughts. His resentment and wish for even a shred of acknowledgment had twisted and festered into something to help him cope with the abandonment he felt.

But it changed nothing. He kept it chained up. Lived his life among the clan. But his eyes never strayed far.

Natsuo watches as Enji turns onto the pathway that leads up to the ritual hut. He shouldn't be surprised by his father's intentions—it is the Chieftain's duty to prepare the maidens of his clan, but this task should have been passed down to an advisor. He should not be the one to lay with his daughter in such a manner, but he is blinded by his desires.

Natsuo watches from a distance as he enters and sits in quiet contemplation until he notices movement in the trees once more. 

Shouto himself leads you down the path before departing on his way. You look beautiful; your skin is glowing from tonight's celebration, the hearth flame lighting you from within. Your hair is decorated with summer flowers, your body dressed in a simple white gown. You've heard whispers of how tonight should be, but Natsuo knows you will face nothing like that tonight. Tonight you'll be at the mercy of Enji's possessive anger. 

Natsuo wouldn't be able to stop it if he tried. 

He sits, eyes closed and unmoving throughout it all, closing his heart to what he hears ringing in the air. There are threads of jealousy that he pushes aside, embracing his dejection. 

Enji would never look at him the way he so inexcusably desires, of that he's certain. 

Natsuo listens as your cries change in pitch, becoming reedy and less tearful. Tame even. It's clear that Enji's power is quickly converting you, and Natsuo bears no grudge towards you for it.

But something in his mind begins to twist as he listens to your sounds. If you change so easily, why couldn't he? Why should he spend his existence pining after something unattainable when he can turn to something else? If he can't have Enji's attention, perhaps he can earn his rage instead. Anything would be better than the lukewarm current. 

He sits unmoving as your sounds reach a warbling peak and then soften, through the low rumbling of Enji's voice, feeling the newfound stillness into the night as time passes and silence blankets the forest. Only then does he rise to his feet and approach the door, slipping inside as silent as snowfall.

Natsuo pauses as he takes in the sight before him. Enji's thick shoulders rise and fall with his breathing, the swell of his thighs peeking out from beneath the fur blankets. 

You're curled against his back, facing your father, your body still. Too still to be believable.

Natsuo whispers your name. He watches the way your spine stiffens before you slowly turn your head. It's dark enough that he can't make out your face, but he can clearly see the tremble of your lips as you sit up, drawing some of the furs close to your chest.

"Natsu..? What are you doing here?" Your whisper faintly carries in the small space, soft as a fawn's belly. The dart of your eyes betrays your anxiety at being found like this. 

"I came to check on you," Natsuo hushes soothingly, slowly approaching. His eyes trace over the muscle of Enji's back again before flicking back to you.

"I didn't mean for this," you choke out, shoulders hunching inward. "I swear."

"It's tradition, you've done nothing wrong." He caresses your cheek, something stirring in him as you lean into the gentle touch, seeking comfort. He takes your hand and pulls you closer to him, your bare feet touching the wood as you slip out of the bed. You seem hesitant to drop the furs covering your modesty, but as he encourages you further from the bed, further from Enji's sleeping body, you eventually let go in fear that the disturbance will wake him. 

Natsuo's breath hitches at the sight of your breasts, nipples hard in the cool air of the night before your arm moves to cover them as much as possible. 

"Is there more to the ritual?" You ask hesitantly, thighs pressing together as you blink up at him.

"Would I be here if there weren't?" Natsuo stares back evenly, confident in his evasive response. This is all new to you, and the full endeavors of maiden rituals are sacred and unspoken. Enji has already overstepped his bounds over the age-old tradition, he never should have been the one here with you tonight. Neither should he, but as long as the tradition was going to be stained, he may as well take part. "You've already been shown how to be still, and let your bond mate show his dominance, but you still need to learn how to take care of him too."

"What do you mean?"

Natsuo leads you another step away. "Your bond mate will expect you to know this. How to make him feel good, to show him your love and appreciation."

That was all you needed to hear to perk up slightly, your eyes reclaiming some of their former brightness. Your trust in your brother is strong enough to overlook the red flags, shades lighter thanks to Father's offense. "What do I do?"

"What father did, except you're going to lead," he informs you gently, shedding his garments until he matches your bare form. He takes your hand and brushes his thumb over your knuckles lightly before placing your palm on his chest. "I'll help you whenever you're unsure, but for now, do what feels natural." 

He drops his hand and gazes down at you, his face reassuring and expectant. Natsuo tips his head back and lets out a soft exhale as you trace your fingertips across his chest hesitantly, letting his eyes flutter closed. Your touch is gentle and warm. It feels nice. He looks back down as he feels you step closer, noting the concentration in your gaze as you tilt your head towards him, lifting your chin. 

He feels a smile curve his lips as he leans to meet you, letting you move your lips against his. Your movements are unsure but earnest but he's content to let you feel him out, giving a low moan of encouragement that makes you pull away, glancing nervously behind you towards the bed. 

Natsuo can't blame you. "Don't concern yourself with him, focus on me. Picture Katsuki if you need to."

After a moment you nod and move in again, and this time it's as if your hesitation has diminished. Your body molds into his own, your breasts pressing against his body, your hips flush with his thighs. Natsuo can feel his half-hard cock, stirring to life as your fingers curl into the hair on his nape and draw his face back to yours. He can't stop the low grunt that passes his lips as your other hand curls into his hip, your fingers digging into the muscle. 

"That's it," he murmurs against your lips, breathing picking up when your tongue presses to the seam of his lips. He lets you in, feeling his heart rate pick up as he almost stumbles under your weight as you press forward. Without thinking his arms curl around your waist and drag you closer, and his cock twitches against your stomach at the breathy gasp you let out. Natsuo doesn't even realize he's forgotten Enji is in the room. "Now what's next?"

"Um…"

"There you go." Natsuo hisses through his teeth as your hand curls around his cock, now throbbing in your hold. He watches hungrily as a shy, pleased smile breaks over your face, lifting your chin and pulling you into another kiss.

He forgets that you're supposed to be leading when he grips you tight and lowers you to the floor, pulling you into straddling his waist. The muscles in his core burn as he remains seated, his hands gripping your breasts as holds them, kneading them as he leans down to suck one of the hardened peaks into his mouth. You seem to have forgotten too, as your fingers thread into his snowy locks, your body warming significantly as he teases the bud with his tongue. He shifts your hips until your soaked folds are pressed against his throbbing length, and you let out this beautiful little sigh. 

"Natsu—"

"Keep going," he rasps out, his voice sending little shivers against your skin as he refuses to pull back from your tits. "You're doing so well, keep going."

Natsuo almost feels like he'll be burned as your temperature continues to rise, but he doesn't stop you. He'd welcome the burn right now.

You clumsily reach between your bodies, fumbling for his cock as you try to angle it towards your cunt. His hands drop to your thighs, thumbing reassuring circles on the plush flesh there. After a few more circles of his tongue, Natsuo lets your nipple pop from his mouth with a wet sound and leans back.

His forearms brush against the wood as he braces himself and at this angle he can see your body much better, the way you pant above him, breasts heaving as you stare down. Behind you, he can see Enji, still sleeping away, but Natsuo keeps his eyes on you as your movements become more stable. With him down, you're able to lean forward, the blunt tip of his cock now flush with your hole. Your torso obstructs his view of your pussy but Natsuo can feel you dripping copious amounts of fluid down his length, and he wonders how much of it is yours, if it's all yours. Surely Enji wouldn't sully the tradition that far, staining your womb before your bond mate?

But he can't deny that the thought has him pulsing in you as you finally lower your hips, your blazing heat enveloping his cock. Your expression is so honest, your lashes fluttering as you adjust to the feel of him. You're so kind, so naively benevolent to even believe that he compares to the behemoth Salamander sleeping just a few feet away, but Natsuo appreciates it nonetheless. 

His head connects with the wood beneath him with a low grunt as your heat flares up, your skin glowing, embers popping in thinly veiled flame. "Sister, please. Control yourself."

You mumble breathless apologies before your body settles, however the glow remains, bathing you both in gentle warmth. You whisper, your eyes glistening, "It can feel like this? From the beginning?"

Resentment towards Enji is not a new feeling but this time it reaches deeper, igniting a spark within Natsuo that makes him feel like he could now create the flames that have escaped him his whole life. He reaches out and places a steadying palm on your tummy. "Yes, it's supposed to. If your mate cannot do this for you, then I want you to return to me. I will always take care of you."

Something like uncertainty flickers behind your eyes for the barest of moments, but then you're nodding and leaning towards him, your pillowy breasts soft against his chest and your lips strain for his. Over eager and wet, you kiss him, your hips rocking slightly as you try to work Natsuo deeper than he already is. 

You break apart for breath, your voice thick with want. "What now?"

Natsuo’s palms slide from your waist over the curve of your ass, until his fingers are prodding between the globes of flesh, and pressing in on a muscle that makes something in you quiver. "If you tense inside around here—" he groans under his breath as you try, feeling you tighten around his cock, "—yes, like that. It'll make us both feel good when you move." And with that he grabs your hips and moves them, guiding them into a slow, deep rolling movement. Showing you how to move in a way that would stimulate the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. 

The way your hips shake, the moans slipping through your parted lips again and again, tells Natsuo that you've found the rhythm that suits you, but he can't let go. The way you're sucking him in, dripping down his groin has his mind quieting, his world shrinking down to just the two of you.

You gasp as he lifts his hips, his feet planting on the floor so he can move with you. You only falter for a moment before you regain your balance, and your cries get louder. He can feel your muscles tightening, cording as you begin to move more urgently. One of his hands snakes up your spine, curling around the back of your neck to guide your head into his shoulder. 

There are no words left to be spoken. There's only pleasure and heat as you rut against each other in desperate chase. 

Suddenly the room is blistering. So hot that Natsuo's eyes become dry and strained, and the breath in his lungs is too heavy. His hips stop, but it does nothing to deter the cord pulling taut in his gut, does nothing to the way his spine tingles and how his balls are drawing tight. Natsuo needs this, apparently as much as you do. You cry out but you don't stop either, your hips grinding down into his more desperately than before, your fingers digging into Natsuo's arms until you stiffen and give a drawn-out whine of his name. 

Natsuo's eyes close as your walls pulse and quiver around him, milking him to his finish and causing him to add to the obscene mess between your thighs. You slump deeper into his chest, breath shuddering, body shaking, as you fight for breath. 

Natsuo can sense your anxiety through the thready race of your heart, in the grip of your fingers as you bury your head deeper into his shoulder with a low whimper, but you have nothing to fear.

Because for once, the Chieftain's eyes are boring into his.

Unlike what he's always believed, Natsuo doesn't care. He feels free. He doesn't need Enji's attention or his favor. He carefully guides your lips to his, ignoring the way the air threatens to melt the skin from his body.

All he needs is the way you melt into his touch like it's the most natural thing in the world. 

[hollyevolving]

MisMag season 1.

The NUANCES in Erika's reaction here. The microexpressions.

This whole scene was amazing but I feel like we (fans) mostly focus on Brennan as Evan and don't talk enough about what the rest of the Misfits were doing, and Erika as Dream was masterful in this moment.

[zo1nkss]

Okay I've settled in and now I really wanna talk about all the parts of TNP that I actually REALLY loved.

Mind you all, this is my first impression of ZeeNuNew together on-screen because I'm new to Thai BL and haven't had a chance to watch any of their other stuff yet. So I don't have anything to compare this to outside of stage performance edits of them, which I largely didn't understand much about because I hadn't seen them work together.

Right off the bat, I was SO impressed with NuNew. That man has mastered the art of microexpressions, he is SO GOOD at them. The scene where Charan low-key stalked Khanin after his match and then gave him unsolicited advice? His gasts were FLABBERED.

The scene where they bumped into each other in the hall after Charan came to live with them under mysterious circumstances? I love how much Khanin just Does Not Like This Man!!!!! He just showed up and started following him around and then waltzed into his home life with no explanation and refuses to answer his questions and my boy is NOT having it. Smart. I love a man who doesn't trust a shady situation. We would so get along.

But what really hit me hard was when the truth finally broke. That was genuinely some amazing devastation we were witnessing. Poor Khanin's entire life was crumbling out from under him with a few uttered words. The pleading to just be his son and not some secret fated prince from a far away land.... absolutely gut wrenching bro. I was hurting for that poor man.

I was impressed eith Zee as well, but I felt like we didn't get to see him stretch his acting muscles quite as much for the first episode. He was pretty dedicated to his role as quiet and broody, but I will say the awkward moment when Khanin learned their shared kiss just sealed their fates together for eternity was absolutely top tier. The way he left and came back just to chug water in the absence of anything to say. 10/10 lmfao.

[ineffableigh]

I have so many feelings about how emotional Aziraphale looks here.

He's SO HAPPY Crowley came back and is working with him again. ;__; <3

That was a class-A surreptitious half a miracle.