#evil mr clean

[thebat-musicman]

It’s the same picture

[liquorwrist]

I cook cream soup, taste is coco loco. Want me as your wife, but she is mmm mm mmm.

(Censored graphic addition below. Uncensored here.)

[jonathanbyersphd]

My last thought for the evening: There aren't enough thirst trap gifsets/edits of Jonathan

[milesworld96]

Yalls looks like I’m joining dark-order

Obsessed over this🤯🤯🤯

[baldwillow]

[tofuingho]

Let's be honest, it's going to start with trying to save Danny from Jazz, but quickly turn into trying to save Lex from Jazz.

Super Danny and Jazz Luthor??

Danny and Jazz were doing a training fight in the Ghost Zone. Jazz wanted to help her brother more in his fights. So he can take bigger breaks.

So while they trained, they were attacked by Technus and Skulker, who used their new weapon on them. Skulker rages as the whelp is gone, and Technus has no idea what has happened. His invention was supposed to capture them.

Metropolis

Danny noticed first that they were not home but chose to ignore it. And told his sister they could still fight. No ghost was around them, and they could still train. Jazz was for it, and they started to fight again in the air.

They had a good fight until that man flew to them and tried to stop the fight. Danny only looked at his sister to know they should leave, which is what he did as he grabbed her and turned invisible as they got away before going back to civilian life. They could do it later, without people around them. Training was enough for today.

Clark just wanted to talk and maybe help the child. He looked similar to a Kryptonian and was able to use similar powers. The boy needs a bit help in the way he fights and a better suit he could give him one. But first He should call Bruce. And say just to be sure Dibs.

Lex Luthor showed interest in his office as he watched the fight through the window. The armor on the girl looked similar to what he used with her own kryptonite attacks. He should look and see what he can find out. And dibs to the other villains.

This 2 remember both Clark and Lex on the each other and it would be interesting to see what else happens. Is this time travel or something similar??

What Jazz wore looked similar to Lex Luthor's warsuit. The ectoplasm attacks look like what Lex uses. Kryptonian Danny? 

[blushinggoku]

Recently I went into the DBS fandom wiki to read about the Goku Black/Future Trunks arc, because I haven't watched DBS past the Tournament of Power and the concept of Goku Black intrigued me so much. I'm so glad I didn't waste my time watching the episodes because Jesus

[noisilyscreechingsong]

It’s canon that Jason Todd had a brother named Danny Todd. All we know is he died being a look out for a local gang. Who’s to say he didn’t die at the age of fourteen and come back? Maybe the Fentons were investigating the levels of ectoplasm in the area and somehow got their hands on an amnesic kid who died and didn’t quite stay dead? Perhaps they wanted to make him their side experiment, or they wanted to see if they can teach it to be good and not evil. Who knows. But as soon at Danny steps foot in Gotham, the entity of Gotham is there to greet him, welcome him home and remind him of who he was. And does he remember.

Danny is just a year or two younger than Dick and he was supposed to be starting a new job in the R&D department of WE. Instead he’s pushed back his start date to do research.

Of course, the first thing he looks up is his family, his original family that he can’t believe he forgot, to find out his mother, his father, and his little baby brother are all dead and buried. He has to take a break to sob uncontrollably on the kitchen floor for a while before gathering himself back up to find out what happened. He is unimpressed with the lack of information on Jason’s death, but he did find lots on his adoption to mister rich guy Brucie Wayne.

So it’s with almost no hesitation that after finding every single article and snippet he can on his brother and still find it lacking, he drives his motorcycle, that he built himself thank you, to Wayne Manor where he rang the buzzer repeatedly with a little too much force.

It takes him a while to finally bully his way through the gates, arguing with the butler and telling little white lies of ‘of course I don’t want to harm Mr. Wayne, I just need to ask him some questions’.

Sure he could have waited and got close to him through his new job or had some other cunning plan, but Danny has always been a straightforward kind of person and that didn’t change after his death. No, he prefers to get what he wants straight from the source.

That’s how he ends up pacing the length of the sitting room the British guy left him in with a deep glare and tense shoulders.

It was a nice place. Clean. Taken care of. Expensive. Jason lived here once upon a time. Too bad it didn’t last.

Mr. Wayne does show, surprisingly, and takes the time to assess him like a threat as he BS’s him with a ditzy expression.

Danny walks right up to him and sticks out his hand to shake because Jazz raised him with manners.

“Mr. Wayne,” he greets with a stiff nod.

Mr. Wayne hesitantly takes the offered hand.

“Uh, nice to meet you, I’m sorry, Alfred didn’t tell me your-“

As soon as the handshake is over Danny socks him with a right hook straight to the face. The force throws him back a few steps but he recovers quickly. Danny shakes out his hand.

“My name is Danny Fenton. Before that though my name was Danny Todd.” He sees Wayne’s eyes widen a bit in recognition. The next part didn’t really need to be said but he did it anyway. “My little brother was Jason and no I don’t have proof so you’ll just have to take my word for it. You are going to tell me exactly how he died and I’m not leaving here until you do.”

His words had fallen back into his Gotham Crime Alley accent with how emotional he was. He forgot how he even used to talk. How does that even happen?

He walks back to sit on the couch, getting comfortable because he has a feeling this guy will drag this out like pulling teeth.

“I’ll ask Alfred to get some refreshments,” Wayne says after several minutes of silence.

“You do that.”

[yellowbrokenblue]

I fucking own you | RAFE CAMERON

You’ve been working for the Cameron’s for a few months, and a while ago you made the biggest mistake of your life- you slept with Rafe Cameron. And now, it was about to happen again. You were in too deep, and you fucking loved it.

cw: smut, rough sex, bondage, rafe is feral, dirty talk, degradation

“I asked for a drink half an hour ago. Where is it.”

He came closer and closer to you, his eyes dark and filled with pure annoyance. It wasn’t that you went out of your way to disobey Rafe’s orders, but when you had as much on your plate as you did- it became easier and easier to slip up. People have this idea in their head that being a housemaid is a simple job- but when you work for the Cameron family, it’s nowhere near simple.

“Raf- Mr Cameron. You know that my job is not to run around fetching you food and drink whenever you feel about it. I’m here to look after the house, not you.”

He scoffed.

“Talk to me like that again, pogue, and I’ll get you fired.”

Rafe had been threatening to get his father to fire you ever since you made the biggest slip up of your entire life. You prided yourself on being a smart person who always made good choices- but then one night you ended up tangled in the sheets of Rafe Cameron’s bed- and that does not happen to people who make good choices.

After that night you vowed to avoid him as much as you possibly could. You couldn’t afford to get him so angry that he’d rat you out to his dad and loose this job.

But your biggest problem was that no matter how hard you tried to stand up for yourself, you’d always cave in front of him. You’d always end up getting him that drink even though it wasn’t your job, you’d fetch his dry cleaning before your shift simply because he asked you. And worst of all, you let him fuck you.

But it would never happen again.

“I’m sorry, Mr Cameron.” You apologised, nodding your head.

“Good.” He said, before lowering his voice, “Now go and be the nice, obedient girl that I remember, and get me a Scotch.”

You swallowed, nodding.

With shaky hands, you make your way to the bar cart in the corner, placing some ice in the glass and pouring the shot. You might not have had eyes on the back of your head, but you could feel his eyes on you- his gaze was burning into the back of your head.

He treated you like shit, it’s not as if you were unaware of it. Sometimes you got worried about the fact that occasionally it made you want him more.

You turn around, and try to give him the glass. He noticed your shaking hands and smirked. This man has evil written all over him.

“I change my mind, sweetheart.” He said, his tone rude and condescending, “I want my drink in my bedroom.”

“Can’t you just take it up, I-”

He scoffed, “You’re what? You’re telling me to do your job because you’re worried about being next to my bed again? Are you really that weak, pogue?”

Your heart was beating uncontrollably.

“Of course not.” You reply, “I’ll take it up to your room right away.”

“That’s a good girl.”

You leave the room and follow the, what feels like endless, stairs up to Rafe’s room. His section of the house was bigger than your entire apartment on the other side of the island. When he says ‘room’ he really means entire suite. The living area opened up into a huge bedroom with an en-suite, and he even had a small kitchenette to the far left with different cooking appliances. The microwave itself was probably worth more than your entire wardrobe.

You placed the glass on the small table next to the couch, when you heard the door open, close and then lock.

You turn around, rapidly, to be faced with Rafe’s face already only inches away from yours.

“Don’t look so worried, sweetheart.” He said, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling your body against his, “You know I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Rafe, we can’t do this again. I need this job, you know that.”

Instead of a reply, he lent down and attached his lips to your neck, making a b-line for the sweet spot that he must’ve remembered from last time.

You used all of the strength in you to stop yourself from letting out a moan, but then he pressed his crotch against your stomach, and the moan slipped out.

“I knew you wanted me.” Rafe said, pulling away and holding your face with his hands, “I could see it in your eyes, they just scream out how desperate you are for my cock.”

Rafe’s hands reach for the buttons of your blouse, looking at your face, waiting for a signal that it’s okay for him to continue. He wasn’t a good guy, but he had enough good in him to make sure you were okay with this.

You gave him a quick nod, and he made quick work of taking off your blouse, throwing it on the floor.

“The shit my dad makes the help wear is fuckin’ ugly.” Rafe said, “I much prefer when you look like this.”

His hands raked over your body, and over your bra.

“How would you cope if I worked naked every day?” You joked.

“I wouldn’t.”

Before you knew it, your bra joined your shirt on the floor, your tits spilling free.

“Pants off. Lie on the couch.” Rafe demanded, taking a step back, waiting to watch you undress. “I have plans for you before you get my dick. So, be a good girl and do as I say.”

You bite the side of your cheek, unbuttoning your pants and kicking them off.

“Panties too.” Rafe said, “I want to see all of you.”

Once again, you done as he said, peeling your underwear from your body, leaving you completely naked lying on his couch.

It was intimidating lying like this with him watching you while he stood fully clothed. But then again, every time Rafe looked at you there would be some sort of intimidation involved.

“Now,” He said, slowly unbuttoning his white shirt, “I’m gonna tell you how this is gonna go, and you’re gonna listen.”

He took his shirt off and lifted the glass of Scotch.

“You’re gonna lay there nice and still and well behaved, understand? And while you do that, I’m gonna have some fun.” He says, moving his arm so that his glass of liquor was hovering above you, before tilting it and letting the liquid drip over your stomach.

It was ice cold, yet the feeling made your head fall back. The anticipation was killing you, and he knew it. Rafe was taking his sweet time simply just to torture you.

You watched Rafe sink to his knees, dropping the glass on the floor, ice spilling everywhere.

“You’re gonna forget who the fuck you are when I’m done with you.”

His mouth attached itself your breasts, his tongue licking up the alcohol that had dripped onto them, before slowly making his way down your stomach, licking and sucking at every trace of liquor he could find.

Most of the liquid had pooled around your belly button, and as he got closer to that area, he gripped your thigh to steady his body, making sure to purposely brush his fingers over the aching heat between your legs, enjoying the soft moan you let out.

You couldn’t help but groan as he sucked harder at your skin, his tongue all over your stomach. You wanted that tongue sucking at your tits, in your mouth, between your legs. You wanted him everywhere.

“You’re desperate for me. I can tell.” Rafe said, using the grip he had on your thigh to spin you around, so that you were sitting facing him on the couch.

Arousal was dripping down your legs as his hand crept further and further up your thigh.

“I was gonna take my time with you today, sweetheart. But I think you want my cock right now, am I right?”

You nod, desperately.

“Words.” He demands.

“Yes.” You plead.

He shakes his head, “I know you remember the rules. Yes, what?”

You swallow.

“Yes, Sir.”

Even in the bedroom, Rafe had to remind you that you would always be beneath him. His superiority complex would never die, yet your sheer desperation could look past that.

The power dynamic was unhealthy, it’s not as if you were unaware. Technically you were still on shift working at his house right now. But you allowed yourself to look past it simply because of how badly you wanted him.

How badly you needed him.

Next, he told you to go and lie on his bed- and he followed you into the bedroom area but instead of joining you on the sheets he opened the door to his closet, rifling through until he pulled out a long black tie.

“I think you need a reminder today of who is in charge.” He says, coming closer to the bed.

“You.” You whisper, “You are in charge.”

“You’re right,” He said, “But I need to be really sure that you underhand that. So give me your wrists.”

He takes your hands and wraps his tie tightly around them, before guiding your arms to the headboard of the bed, where he looped the tie around and secured your wrists to the bed.

“Tell me if it’s too tight.” He said, a slither of genuine humanity showing through his words.

“It’s fine.” You reply.

It was somewhat exciting, to be here tied up for Rafe. He could do whatever he wanted and there wasn’t much you could do about it. But at the same time, it was nerve wracking.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, so you have to try to be a little less tense, alright?” Rafe said. His words were genuine, but it didn’t come off as such.

He unbuckled his pants, pulling them off and pushing them aside, leaving you staring at him in his briefs.

“Where do I start.” Rafe says, placing a hand on each of your thighs, spreading your legs apart.

“Look how fucking wet you are.” He said, running a single finger over your folds, “I didn’t realise what a desperate whore you were.”

Rafe’s patience thins- his solid erection paired with your dripping wet cunt is driving him crazy and he can’t wait any longer. He quickly flips you over onto your stomach and pushes your ass into the air, keeping your legs spread so he can access.

“Are you still on the pill?” He asks while he massages his cock. He needs to be inside of you. Right now.

You nod. “Yeah.”

With the anticipation, that one single word is all you can croak out of your mouth.

With no warning, you find Rafe’s cock pushing into you with a speed you can’t quite comprehend.

“Your tight little cunt.” Rafe moans, splitting you open, “I bet no one’s fucked you since the last time you had my dick, huh? You keep this pussy just for me?”

You moan, your face pushed into the sheets as you take the full length of Rafe’s dick.

“Agh!” You cry, “You, Rafe, just you.”

He’s thrusting into you with no thoughts in his mind. You knew Rafe fucked rough, but this was a new level of feral you hadn’t seen before- and you were kind of loving. You tugged on the tie restraining your wrists while you cried his name.

“I own you.” Rafe says, “I fucking own you, you understand?”

You moan loudly, his dick still pounding into you.

“I said do you fucking understand?”

“Agh! Fuck!” You cry, “I’m yours, Rafe. You own me, you own me.”

You were so close to your orgasm, clenching on his cock while he thrusted deep inside you.

“I’m close.” You tell him, pushing your head into the mattress.

“Don’t fucking cum until I say so.” Rafe said.

He sped up, reaching for his own release.

“Cum with me.” He growls, his speed reducing as he cums inside of you.

You cry out, your long awaited orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave as you coat Rafe’s cock with your cum.

You might regret this tomorrow, but right now you didn’t have a care in the world.

[ushiwakatrash]

The Bakusquad as Roommates

A/N: Hey babes, it's been a while! I've been so busy will college so I really couldn't write. But, yeah, I'm (kinda) back <3333

!Warning!: smoking (weed too)

According to the new rules, UA has decided to place two people per room.

(This deviates from the original plot line)

See the Dekusquad version here.

Bakugou Katsuki 爆豪 勝己

Did not like the thought of sharing his space with someone random but as per UA's orders, what choice did he have?

Very clean and very strict about house rules

Will constantly nag about how you can't do chores right

Your first weeks were a disaster. He was so scary and so intimidating, you thought he was the concentrated essence of evil

He's blunt and mean, but you figure out he just has a hard time expressing himself

One morning, he cooked breakfast for you but went with lame excuses like "I accidentally cooked too much." or "You look dead so fuckin' eat!"

Since then you went along with his shitty excuses and used them when giving him dinner

"Bakugou, you can have this 'cause I don't feel like eating anymore." or "They looked good so I bought twice as much for, uh, no reason at all."

Seeing your efforts in trying to be a good roomie, he warmed up to you eventually

Now y'all just argue like an old couple

Kirishima Eijirou 切島 鋭児郎

Looks tough, but he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever met.

A literal angel

Day 1: friends

Day 2: besties

Day 3: you would take a bullet for him

He’s kinda messy and his punching bag takes a lot of space but hey, no one’s perfect

He always waits for you before he eats, and always saves you a plate when you’re running late because of extra training

You seek each other for comfort. Especially when Kiri feels insecure about how his quirk isn’t flashy or how he thinks it won’t make him a top hero one day

You, of course, would never want or let him think that way. It will never be a chore to remind him how he’s so strong and sturdy and how his muscles are hot

You know how much potential he has so if you have to repeat it a thousand times again and again, so be it

MUST PROTECT THIS CINNAMON ROLL

Kaminari Denki 上鳴電気

Had the idea of the old ‘bucket of water on top of the door’ prank as a big welcome to his roomie

What he didn’t calculate is that you have very sharp and fast reflexes.

Before the bucket falls on you, you hit it and the water splashes on Denki

Both of you were stunned at first but you recovered quickly and said “feeling cold, sparky?” with such a smug smirk

His face instantly got red and he stormed out of the room with comical tears shouting ‘MEANIE!!’

An hour later he returns, 2 popsicles in his hands. He hands you one as an apology and both of you reconcile, even if it’s his entire fault

You both get in trouble for blasting heavy metal at 3 in the morning MULTIPLE TIMES

The two of you made an agreement to do this ritual with headphones on because Mr. Aizawa had threatened to make you switch rooms

Sero Hanta 瀬呂範太

Ah, the potheads unite

It was a secret that you tried to keep under wraps since but the your roomie figured you out instantly

At first you both just shared vapes, trying out different flavors the both of you would buy

until you saw a bag in the bathroom that had an oh so familiar scent

You confronted Sero about it but he just gave you a 'what's the big deal' look so you shrugged it off

a few nights later he invited you for a session and you obliged, only if he kept it hush

this has been a routine since you could remember and Aizawa has never suspected you. I don't know about Mr. tape man though.

Ashido Mina 芦戸 三奈

There was no adjustment period for the both of you whatsoever

You both became instant besties and shared EVERYTHING

from skincare to clothes to maybe thongs at times but hey, girls do that shit

As if being roommates wasn't enough, you still hung out after class hours

Mina has been your greatest support system especially with boy trouble

Break a man's heart and she's as proud as any mother could be

Your heart is broken? A tub of ice cream and shitty movies are ready for you

She loves you like her own sister and constantly worries for you

Honestly the best roomie in town

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

[247-diaperboy]

Trapped in Diapers Forever part 4

He left the nursery and I laid there in a bit of a daze ,on one hand I felt in heaven and on the other hand could not believe this was really happening to me . After awhile I drifted off to sleep eventually being woke up later by Daddy slipping his hand in my diapers and saying we need to get you in dry diapers baby boy. Daddy then helped me out of the crib and over to the changing table . I waddled like a little kid from my diapers sagging being so soaked There was no way to conceal my rock-hard solid dick in my soaking wet baby diapers. Daddy began to remove my wet diapers and clean me up, all while snapping pictures of the whole ordeal. Then he finally slipped some very thick, clean diapers under me and began to lotion my crotch up paying extra attention to my pee pee . He began to masturbate me saying what a big baby I was and making me repeat it back to him. He said it again, diapers ''forever'' baby boy and made me beg him to keep me in diapers forever. At that point I would have said "anything" to make him keep going I was so horny. Then he stopped and tape up my diapers and said baby's only make messes in their diapers. He proceeded to massage my dick through the thick diapers, I began to buck my mid-section finally exploding in my diapers screaming I'm a BABY, I love Diapers, nearly passing out my orgasm was so intense. When I came to my senses Daddy was smiling and said wow someone really "loves" diapers, good thing because from now on you’re going to wear them 24/7. He told me I could get up and get dress, I started to remove my diapers and Daddy said leave them on, remember diapers forever! I said come on it was just play and tried to argue with him. Daddy responded with a mad look on his face, no baby boy this is VERY real. He held my chin with one hand and looked right in my eyes and said for now on your new place in life is in diapers. You know this is what you truly desire and walked over to a shelf and picked up something, it was a video camera. He said see this tough guy, not only do I have tons of pictures but have the whole thing filmed. For now, on you will do exactly as your told or else. Daddy added I'm sure your construction buddies would love to see you in a playpen wetting your diapers and pleading with me to please keep you in diapers over and over as your shooting you little baby load into your baby diapers in ecstasy Mr. Tough Jock Boy he said with a chuckle. I felt like a 2 year totally trapped, OMG diapers 24/7 WTF I thought.

I finished getting dressed and Daddy picked up 2 new packages of disposable diapers and plunked them in my arms saying you're going to need these this week. He also handed me a new webcam and mic in the box and said you are going to be needing these so I can make sure you stay your diapers. Daddy said here are the rules. You will wear diapers 24/7 from now on. You don't need to mess in them but always wet in them. You will set up the webcam on your computer and leave it on at all times connected to me. I will send text; you'll have 2 mins to be in front of the webcam when you're at home to show me your wearing your diapers. If you’re at work, I'll text you and you have to run to the restroom. Unbutton you pants and snap a shot of your diapers with your phone and send it to me. Remember you cell phone time stamps every picture so there will be no cheating. At night we'll get on Skype, and you will jerk off in front of Daddy in your diapers. You will tell Daddy you belong in diapers, and you love your diapers while jerking off. From here on out your 're ''only'' to jerk off in your diapers, that is where baby boys make their messes. With a evil grin Daddy said when I get done training you diaper boy. You'll want to wear 24/7 and will become a bed wetter again and naturally wet during the day with ease. The only thing you'll want to have sex with will be your baby diapers. Also, when you return next week, you are to be shaved baby smooth below the waist At this point my head was whirling, I was thickly diapered and holding 2 huge packages of diapers in my arms and being told my new place in life is a diaper boy 24/7. My head was whirling in circles, I was humiliated, upset and excited all rolled into one. Daddy walked me to the door and made me give him a big hug and said I'll see you next weekend. I waddled out to my car with my 2 big packages of diapers in both hands, got in and. I drove away feeling bulkiness between my legs thinking I’m trapped in diapers, is this really happening?

[the-californicationist]

Cali Cali bo-bali banana fana fo-fali me my mo mali! Cali!

I'm three Budweisers in and got an itch for alpha Price with a sudden need to breed (yay! Surprise rut!), and there's his sweet smelling omega neighbor who he's been keeping at arm's length because he's a professional dammit and has complete control of his urges, thank you very much.

Honestly, I just wanna see Mr. "I'm Married to My Job" lose it and show back up on base abashed and mated, and also ridiculously proud of his lil omega's claiming bite, because "she turned into a wildcat, lads. I couldn't stop her." *wink-wink*

Or not. I'm happy with any smutty Price fic you bestow on us, really. I'm just being weirdly specific because— alcohol = horny thots. 🍺😏🥴🫠

Drunken hugs 🫂 from Random Thot

RTG!! You are the most amazing person, and every time I see your pfp on AO3 or tumblr, I just get all gooey inside. Thank you for the ask! I wrote (and fully deleted) this fic three times because I wanted to get it right. I just pray that I could deliver. <3 <3 Hope this is what you were hoping for!!

MDNI/NSFW -- TW: damsel in distress, ABO dynamics, knotting, fuck-or-die scenarios, CNC, fluids, PIV sex, female OC

Glory, Glory

It was his last beer of the night, and he was ripping it apart. Curling, soggy shards of the torn label were stuck under his thumbnail, darkening the translucent edge and making it look dirty. They littered the sticky, lacquered bartop like ugly snow, falling in a tiny, chaotic mess. His hands were more than just dirty, the captain thought to himself as he used his wide thumb to itch at the glue-covered glass, rolling little, paper shards away from the smooth surface to reveal the amber liquid swirling within. The captain’s hands; they were covered in blood. Not innocent blood, but blood all the same. They’d never be clean again. 

But, that was the job, and he was good at it. His hands were a direct reflection of his hard work. Killing evil bastards kept the world safe. Some poor sob in a factory could clean out the glue-painting machine that pasted these fuckin’ labels on all of these bloody beer bottles because of one unshakable truth: John Price was good at killing evil bastards.

Unfortunately, the killing would need to wait until after the mandated leave window closed again. His argument with Kate still grated inside of his head. He could almost hear her harsh, Yank accent in his ears.

“What do you want me to tell payroll, John? You can’t be here. You’ve got too many days. Go home. See your mom.”

“I see her plenty, Katie. Let me run that ops gig with Keller. C’mon. I’ll do overwatch,” he tried his best to weasel his way back into a bit of active duty.

“You’d be the world’s most expensive overwatch. Hell no. Here’s your ticket,” she shoved an envelope in his hands, “...and your money,” another envelope, “Go the fuck home, Captain. That’s an order.”

An order. More like a toothless threat. 

But, alas, here he was, staring at a freshly shaved, buzzcut version of himself in a filthy pub mirror, undressing bottles left and right. 

“Another, mate?” The barkeep pointed to his almost-empty drink, making a slight grimace at the paper graveyard that was sprinkled across his bar.

“No,” John sighed, pulling out a few notes from his wallet, “I’m off.”

“Happy Christmas,” the barkeep took the bills and didn’t bother to look up again, setting himself to sweeping the torn strips off of the surface, preparing for the next paying customer. 

“You, too,” John muttered, tugging his black wool beanie over his ears before braving the classic cold, wet, and windy Liverpudlian night. 

He didn’t live far. John’s mum had kept up his loft down by the docks, but it certainly didn’t feel like home. Home wasn’t real. Not anymore. As he walked along the Mersey’s edge, he peered into the black water, wondering if he’d ever truly go home again. 

All of a sudden, he heard a shrill scream. Every sense that had been dulled by his lager was now as sharp as a blade and set on its edge. Again, a high-pitched shout pealed through the night air, beckoning him back to his heroism. That keening was the sound of some evil that needed stamping out, and he was hungry for it. 

He sprinted through the warehouse district, chasing the noise of scuffling, ducking behind alleys and abandoned garages, looking for the source. Finally, there was a flash of red that caught his eye, so he ran towards it, his mind making sense of the scene in front of him. 

Voices were jumbled and mashed up together, barely registering in his mind.

“Out here in a fuckin’ heat. Dumb bitch! C’mere.”

“She’s got a knife!”

“C’mere, you little slag. Get –”

In the middle of three huge, stinking Alphas, a tiny Omega was struggling, arm outstretched, brandishing her knife at them to keep them at bay. John came up behind the biggest one, some bald fuck with a dirty coat, and dropped him, cracking his spine in two places with well-placed fists, and breaking his jaw on his way down to the ground, leaving him groaning on the concrete. 

One of his mates, a older man with thick, black eyebrows, lunged at Price, a look of indignant surprise on his face. The Omega screamed, her red coat yanked back over her face by the third man, her knife clattering to her feet. Price focused on Mister Eyebrows, dodging a lazy haymaker before popping him twice in the nose, drawing out his blood and knocking out at least two of his front teeth. Then, John grabbed him by the collar, pulling his jaw into his raised knee and listening to the satisfying splash as he fell into a murky puddle. 

Finally, he set his sights on the last Alpha of the pack whose ropey arm was looped across the Omega’s neck, choking the air from her lungs. He growled at Price, his scent turning to rancid fear,

“Stay back! She’s mine, you big bastard.”

The captain had nothing to say. With a practiced ease, he side-stepped her assailant, breaking the elbow that controlled her throat, making him release her immediately. The evil bastard stumbled back, hand outstretched, bargaining for his life, 

“Wait, wait. I’ll share her with you, how’s that? I’ll even let you have first go!”

A deafening howl came out of his mouth as Price’s boot heel made contact with his kneecap, forcing it to snap at a terrible angle. John’s hand shot out and grabbed the man by the hair on the crown of his head, tugging cruelly at his scalp. Without mercy, John slammed his face into a nearby bollard, and the howling stopped.

It was quiet again aside from the Omega’s trembling breaths. She had recovered the knife and was now pointing it towards John with shaking hands and wide, determined eyes. 

“You alright, love?” Price asked, holding his hands up in a sign of peace, edging towards her in gentle, predictable steps. 

“Y-yeah… Stay! Stay right there,” her voice was bright and clear, and he could hear her strength laced through her words. He stopped in his tracks, respecting her wishes.

“What are you doin’ all the way out here, darlin’?”

“They dragged me over here from Baltic Fleet,” she straightened up, getting her bearings, wiping the blood from a small cut in her cheek, “Fuckin’ bastards. Thank you, by the way.”

“Jus’ doin’ my job,” Price shrugged, waiting for her to lower the knife even further before he continued his approach.

“Police?” She asked, a little confused. 

“Not exactly,” Price smiled, offering a hand out to her, “John Price, Captain of His Majesty’s RAF service.”

“Oh,” she studied him for a moment, and then her eyes fell to the hand, ready to bite but deciding to shake it instead. 

When he touched her skin, Price felt her fever. Shocked, he tightened his grip, not meaning to startle her but too surprised by her temperature to ignore it.

“Christ, love. You’re burnin’ up.”

As quick as a flash, she yanked her hand out of his grasp and retreated back towards the wall of the warehouse behind her, scooting her way towards the corner to get out of his range, ready to bolt. She didn’t respond, but John watched as she wiped her brow, dotted with sweat and covered in concern. 

“Hey,” he moved forward again protectively, “You can’t be out here alone. Not like this. At least let me walk with you. I’ll stay ten paces behind. It’s not safe.”

“I’m fine,” she said with more strength in her voice than what she was ready to produce.

“You’re not. You’re in a bloody heat. When did it start?” He watched as her knees began to tremble, and against her obvious wishes, he helped her sit on the warehouse deck, letting her keep the knife so she could feel safe. 

“Yesterday…” She closed her eyes, trying to shake it off, “It’s… I’m fine. It’s never this bad.”

Now that he was close to her, Price was smothered by the scent of her body. The Omegan glands in her neck smelled like thick, wild honey, and her heat was mixing with her aroma, turning an already sweet smell into a lucious, decadent gourmand, pulling him in like quicksand. 

“C’mon,” he helped her up, “Where’s your place? I’ll get you close.”

The clang of her knife made him glance up to see her eyes closed and her mouth slack. She was out, too weak to withstand the fever and the physical exertion. 

Price felt his body react to her need. He was filled with rage, white and hot, at her situation. Those goddamn monsters were trying to take advantage of her in this vulnerable state. She should be home in her nest, being taken care of by her Alpha, covered in soothing oils and cool compresses, her needy little cunt stuffed full of his knot, staving off these symptoms and enduring them for her. Instead, she’d been hunted, chased, made to fight for her dignity out here in the middle of the docks. Something else inside Price’s chest curled around his anger. 

Possession. 

He tried to shake it off, knowing it came from being unmarked, but it had been so many years as a lone Alpha that he knew how to control it. Or, at least he thought he did. 

Now, though, he found himself pulling at the neck of her coat as he held her in his arms, invading her privacy to check for a bite. He felt the shame wash over him as he covered her skin back up. He had no business searching for a mating bite. She was not his Omega, and he was not her Alpha. 

After a few minutes out in the chilled wind, he made it to his apartment. Thankfully, it was late enough that his neighbors weren’t outside to witness what looked like a literal kidnapping, and he shuffled her inside without much trouble. Price lay her down on his long, leather sofa, careful to rest her head on the soft arm. He went to the kitchen to retrieve a cold rag and pressed it to her forehead, hoping to hold back the fever for as long as he could.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Wake up,” he whispered, trying to gently shed her coat and sweater, peeling her layers off to bring her temperature down to a more manageable level. 

She moaned, her eyes wrenching shut even tighter, her face twisted in pain,

“My head…” She sighed, desperate for some relief. 

“I know, love. C’mon,” John propped her up a bit, moving the rag so that the coldest parts would be against her skin, “What’s your name? I can find an address. Do you have your purse?”

“They… took it? I don’t… I dunno…” She muttered, obviously having a hard time stringing her thoughts together, “I don’t feel so good.”

This was not ideal. Price knew what came next. A high fever, exhaustion, fatigue, nausea, increased heart rate, and then… 

“Alpha?” Her eyes were open, glassy and dark, the pupils fully blown, looking up at him with an outpouring of unfathomable need. Her scent rolled off of her in mind-altering waves, shoving Price’s carefully-built walls out of the way and sending shocks of desire straight to his heart and his fat, growing cock. 

“No, baby. I’m not your Alpha. Who is he? Can you give me a name?” John asked, checking her coat pockets in a rushed panic. He was running out of time. 

“Alpha, please… I need… Help me, please,” her shaking hands reached under his jacket and shirt, her knuckles rubbing against his furry belly, her strong fingers digging around for his belt buckle, getting right to the point. 

Price felt the room flex around him, and he tried to breathe in air that wasn’t saturated by her vanilla spice, searching in the deepest recesses of his mind for some semblance of his self control. 

“Easy, love. I can’t m–mmngh!” Her mouth slotted over his as he tried to protest, stopping his heart and his words at the same time. 

She was heaven. Her smell was making his skin tingle all over his body, down his arms and up his legs, rushing to his central, sacral core. And her taste was even better. His little cinnamon roll, so sweet and warm, burning for him like a flame, hot and ready to scar him for life. 

“Mngh… Love, mmm… Wait…” Price held her back, using more force than he thought he should need, surprised by her sudden power. 

“John…” He met her eyes and found a particular clarity within them. She was coming out of her haze. But, it wouldn’t last. This was his final chance to keep her from doing something she would regret. 

“Darlin’, I can’t. I’m not your Alpha.”

“You smell like you are,” she mewled, rubbing her wounded cheek across his engorged neck gland, spreading his scent all over herself. 

“I can’t,” he moved away from her, trying to hold her in his arms for comfort rather than to bask in her expressive heat, “My work… I can’t leave you here, pretty girl.”

She sobbed out, trying to hold back from writhing against his body, doing everything she could not to make it harder for him to turn her down. Her eyes were rimmed red and pink from exhaustion, and she was staring down at her own hands, vibrating with tremors, slurring her words,

“Just lock me in the bath. I’ll run cold water. I’ll be fine…”

Something ancient and feral snarled in Price’s mind. 

No.

“No,” he said, involuntarily, the voice in his head escaping from his throat. 

“Please… I can’t stop myself… I want your knot, Alpha. Lock me up before I do something to you… Something you don’t want…” She could barely put two words together. Every thought was a struggle. He was losing her again. 

He grabbed her and held her to his chest, clutching her like water in his palm, using all his strength to keep her with him,

“I want you, love. I want… Fuck, I need you.”

All of a sudden, the energy around their bodies stilled. That cracking, sparking electricity that bound them together was roiling just beyond John’s consciousness, ready to surge. But, he stayed perfectly still, waiting to see what she did next. She locked eyes with him and leaned in close, as if she would kiss him. But, she didn’t. She dipped her head down until she found his Alphic gland, swollen and bruised purple from him holding back his lust, nuzzling at it with the tip of her nose, rooting against him, testing his patience, checking to see if his temperament was true. Then, when he let her sniff him in his most potent spot, when she knew his soul was as pure as his scent, that he was true, she sucked his flesh between her lips, drawing his musk onto her tongue.

She’d accepted him. He reeled from it, unable to hold back a groan, his cock jerking against his zipper, thrashing to escape, flooding with hot blood and threatening to fill his knot before he’d even had a chance to taste her. 

John pulled her mouth off of him and stared at her eyes again, in awe of her beauty, his mind swirling and yet perfectly sharp, begging her darkly,

“Give me your neck, Omega.”

The ritual had begun, and as she swept her hair away from her shoulder, pulling it around her back, she bent for him, arching her head down in a submissive bow, revealing her Omegan mating line. It looked like a keloid scar, the raised skin swollen and painful, like a pounding vein that ran from below her earlobe down to the top of her shoulder, full of her hormones and thick with her magic. One bite, and he would be in her thrall, pliant to her every whim, beholden to her needs until her heat had run its course. 

Price had never given his bite to anyone. It had been easy to abstain. In fact, in his youth, he had a hard time understanding his mates’ commitments to their Omegas, scoffing at their lack of duty to their stations, doubting their commitment, and - moreover - doubting their loyalty. He remained a captain through and through, and he’d never made room for anyone or anything else. But, here he was, his teeth aching in his jaw, bigger and sharper than they should’ve been, his every sense heightened and taking her in like a drug, compelling him to punch through her delicate flesh and suck her nectar deep into his belly. 

The feeling of her skin against his lips was enough to send a chill through his body. He was cooling from the inside out, and his body needed her heat. She was forcing a rut to take hold in him, and he could feel himself changing for her. Then, he bit down as hard as he could, breaking the thin seal of her mating line with ease, feeling the searing mixture of her oil and her blood filling his mouth and throat like a ripe plum, wet and sweet, and promising pleasure if he chose to swallow her. 

He drank from her for as long as he dared, taking her in long, slurping gulps, letting her essence coat his throat, feeling the hot fluid burn inside of his chest and down into his stomach where it pooled and lingered, warming him up from the inside out. 

“Alpha…” She moaned, raising her hand to cup his cheek as he sucked her life into himself, rubbing her thumb so softly over his shut eyelashes that he barely felt it. 

John pulled away from her, his eyes fluttering open, her bright orange blood iridescent with her mating oil, making the red cells burn bright like a fresh-cracked yolk, gleaming, trapped between his teeth like gold. He watched it drip down her chest, staining her clothes, and he began to tear them off of her. She let him, limp and mute as he peeled her open, making her naked and pulling her into his arms. 

He carried her into his bedroom, kicking open the door and busting the bolt through the strike, splintering the wood and not giving a shit about the damage. John lay her in the middle of the mattress and set to surrounding her with whatever softness he could find; his shirts, his blankets, even his scarves. Anything warm and comfortable was added to the nest, giving her as much support as he could before standing back to admire his work. 

She eyed him from her recumbent throne, commanding him with her gaze. John stripped off his shirt for her, raking it up his back and over his shoulders, feeling as if he was moving his body for her and only for her. All of his motions, even his ragged breaths, were only escaping from his lungs because she wanted them to. His buckle clattered apart, and he popped open the button of his jeans, lowering the zipper in a sharp, metallic rip. 

Once free, his heavy prick flagged, leaping forward and pulsating for her, proudly showing her his gleaming head. He was drooling an unrelenting stream of iridescent precome, his balls tight and full of Alphic oil, ready to coat her warm insides with his shining sex. 

John climbed onto the bed, his face focused on her wet mound, admiring the plumpness of her, imagining her - in every delicious way - like a tender peach. He crawled to her, his mouth still stained neon orange from her gland, and he smeared her wet quim all over his lips and tongue. He wasn’t licking her so much as he was wearing her like warpaint, moving his nose and cheeks through her to ensure he was soaked in her heady slick, his body making wild, unbridled choices purely on instinct.  

“Yes, baby, please…” Her voice went straight through him like a bullet, tightening his cockhead to an uncomfortable degree, and it jerked against the mattress in protest. Her hands were in his hair, scratching through his scalp, encouraging him to sink his tongue deep inside of her hole. 

John obeyed, helpless to her desire, his mind wiping clean and being rewritten by her will. He was swimming in her scent, drenched in her slick, and gasping against her pussy, his eyes fixated on her form as it writhed above him. When she met his eyes, she bit the inside of her lip, crying out for him, rewarding him for his prostrated fealty. Then, she began to rock her hips against his jaw, fucking herself on his face, and he let her use him to her heart’s content, staying strong and sure, allowing his body to be used, objectified and glorified by it. 

When she began to come, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He followed his tongue inside of her with two of his thick fingers, pressing against her walls, pushing her over the edge. She bolted upright, wrapping her thighs around his face, smothering him with her body, trapping him breathless between her legs. Her whole being trembled for him. He could feel the shimmer of her very soul, rattling and writhing with her siren-like keening. And just when he started to see spots in his vision, needing air just a little less than he needed to please her, she lay open for him, blooming outward like a flower, releasing him from a limbo he longed to return to, oozing with a stream of rainbow-tinted come, the Omegan oil within her womb escaping to advertise its promises to her mate. 

Without knowing why, John found himself lapping it up from her pulsing hole like a hound, swallowing mouthful after mouthful and grunting with each pass of his broad tongue. 

“John, I need... Please, put your knot inside me. I’ll be good…” She begged, tears shining at the corners of her eyes from her come-drunk bliss, her hands plucking at her nipples and trying to soothe herself down from her high. 

“My pretty girl wants this knot, yeah?” John grinned devilishly, dipping his finger into her over and over and licking it clean like she was a jar of endless honey, “Wants me to breed this gorgeous cunt…”

At that comment, she spread her legs even wider for him, opening up for him like a blossom for the sun, ready to take whatever he had to give her. It was mesmerizing for John to see her like this. Everything about her was filled with intoxication and need. He was just a vessel for her pleasure, pouring himself into her to make her full again. Dizzy and drunk with adoration, he notched his girth at her entrance, struggling to fit even his cockhead within her. 

“Fuck… so bloody warm…”

Her body was burning him with every millimeter he sank into her, the heat of her tight sex in such high contrast with his cool rut. It felt like he was swimming in a roiling pot of sugary caramel, clinging and cloying and sticking to every part of him, and yet it was not enough. He needed more. His hips thrust forward, savage yet steady, reaching deep inside of her like an anchor, rushing to settle himself within her darkness. 

The way his Omega cried out this time was different, and it snapped him to her attention, his mind immediately sensing a new need. 

“Love, tell me what you need.” He purred, his mouth kissing her lips and her neck, lapping at the now-healing wound his own fangs had made, talking to her between long licks of his tongue, “Tell me, and it’s yours.”

“You’re so big. I’ve never…” She sounded ashamed. 

Price slowed to a creeping pace, focused fully on her face, 

“Never had a knot before?”

She shook her head, her eyes full of worry. John wrapped her up in his arms, dragging himself out of her slowly before filling her up again as carefully as he could.

“Tha’s alright, baby. You’re mine, and I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

“Feels like I’m burning alive,” she sighed, her brow furrowing with distress, “John, I need… I don’t know how…”

“Look at me, alright?” He helped her focus her eyes on his, “Don’t… Just stay with me, right here. You’re gonna come for me, and then… I’ll give you what you need.”

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice so small. 

Price set himself on a path with a purpose. He used his hand to rub small, rhythmic circles beside the rigid body of her clit, coaxing her pussy to drop even more slick around him, using every ounce of willpower he had left not to let his knot slip inside of her prematurely. His thrusts were jerky and restrained, but he felt her begin to rock back and forth with his hand’s movements, bringing her closer and closer to her glowing joy. 

“Good girl,” he praised her, watching her as she began to fall apart around him, “Tha’s my good little Omega. Come for your Alpha just like that. Just… mmf-fuck! Like that! Holy fuck.”

The feeling of her slick pussy clenching and twisting around his cock’s tugid body was enough to make him see stars. He felt almost sick with pleasure, his whole core lighting up like a roaring fire, spitting and aching to bury himself within her. 

At the end of her crescendo, he felt himself let go of the chain, and he rutted his knot inside of her, humping himself forward ruthlessly, his body contorting itself to fit her needs. His knot sealed him within her, and although he was not yet orgasming, he was filling her with his come, the creamy flow of it spilling out of his tip, filling her hole and coating his prick from inside of its hungry little sheath.

“Your come… I can feel it inside of me. Oh, my God,” she sighed with some sort of relief, her eyes rolling inside of her head, her arms losing their strength, and her back arching towards him, lifting up as if she would float right into Heaven. 

And just like that, her fever began to abate. With his knot stuffed inside of her, locking his seed within her hole, his Alphic oils could soothe her heat, bringing her back to the realm of consciousness and delivering her from her wild state. 

“John,” she lay back, her hand pressed to his cheek. 

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he bent forward on his elbows and kissed her mouth, chastely at first, and then languidly, exploring her taste. When he did finally pull away, she was awake and alert, sated and happy. He smiled down at her, 

“Hey, pretty girl,” he whispered, wiping her hair back from her face. 

“Hey,” she smiled back at him, wrapping her ankles around his back for comfort, not knowing that it was just enough to set his cock on edge again, his Alphic instinct rejoicing at the feeling of being trapped by his mate. 

“You alright?” John asked, a tinge of worry at the edge of his voice.

“I am now, thanks to you,” she sighed, tucking herself in beneath him, rubbing her hands along his ribs and the soft fur of his back and arms, feeling every bit of him as if she was seeing him with her touch, “You saved me, Alpha.”

“Aye,” he nudged her jaw with his nose, asking her wordlessly to give him the vulnerable softness of her neck. She obliged, and he spoke to her between sucking kisses, “All mine. My Omega. Innit that right, baby?”

She was practically lambent beneath the scrutiny of his possession, rolling in it like a wave in the sand, captured by it and surrendering to the riptide of his unbreakable grip. She nodded, humming her ascent, her expression turning a little rueful right at the end of his kisses. The sorrowful timbre of her voice broke his heart, 

“I’m grateful. But, I know this isn’t what you wanted, and I’m so sor–”

“No,” he kissed her words away, feeling his length throb inside of her, urging him to kiss her again, “No, love.”

“I won’t bite you,” she promised, her gaze still full of apology, “You won’t be stuck with me.”

“Bite me, Omega,” he bent his head and buried his face in her shoulder, giving her his gland in total surrender, “Go on. I’m yours.”

“John…” She hesitated, but he could feel her body flood her hole, excited beyond measure at the thought of binding him to her as her mated Alpha. 

“Go on,” he commanded in his smoky growl, holding her tighter and bracing for the ecstasy of her teeth.

He felt her lips first, and his balls tightened, ready to fling him into a messy orgasm as soon as he felt his gland shatter in her mouth. Her Omegan teeth wouldn’t break the skin, but he knew she was strong enough to crack the shell around his swollen node. The anticipation of her bite was wrecking his mind, and he was gasping for breath by the time he felt her jaw set itself against him. 

“Baby, please…” He whined in her ear, his hips thrusting in short, jerking thrusts, unable to move much with his knot still trapped up inside of her, holding his gushing come in her hole, pushing it into her womb from the sheer volume of it. 

Her teeth connected, and he could hear his unbroken shell give way beneath her strength, the hormones inside of it rushing through his system like wildfire, burning through his veins and making him scream for her. At the same time, John felt his core throw him into a raw orgasm, his whole body trembling above her, wringing himself from the inside out. 

“Alpha,” she sighed, licking his neck to comfort him, “My Alpha…”

“Yours, baby. All yours.”

— — — — — 

The new trainees filed out of the gym, sweaty, bloody, and eager to be out of the captain’s sight. Price had run them ragged, forcing them to spar with practice weapons, pitting them against each other in a strained, exhausting competition. Ghost and Soap sat with Gaz as they eyed their commander, their eyes glued to the fresh bite mark on his neck, shocked into a silent stupor. 

“I cannae believe it. Mated? To which lassie?” Soap asked, dumbfounded.

“I didn’t think he’d ever take a mate,” Gaz marvelled.

“I thought he was savin’ himself for marriage,” Ghost quipped, earning himself a scuff from Soap.

Price made his way across the mat, pulling his sweaty shirt off his back to trade it for a clean one. The red welts and nail-marks across his shoulders and down his belly made Gaz let out a low whistle. But, his commander’s glare stopped him mid-note. 

“Wha’s that, Garrick?”

“Nothin’, sir. Just… admirin’ your battle scars,” Gaz smiled, wishing his two teammates would stop snickering so loudly. 

“Looks like a hell’uva fight, Cap,” Ghost added, looking everywhere but into Price’s icy eyes. 

“Wha’s her name?” Soap asked outright, skipping over the double entendres and going right for the point. 

Their captain sighed, zipped up his gym bag, and stood in front of his three officers, glaring down at them with a look that was on the border of dead-seriousness,

“If I told you that, lads, I’d have to kill you.”

[coffeegnomee]

Mapicc just left the call and I have too many thoughts to wait until after I finish the vod.

it is so Fascinating to me how 1) Mapicc is good at communication and 2) how much he patiently bides his time.

Mapicc has been not putting his own desires (bloodlust) first ever since he ended the experiments. We saw all like last week how he was willing to not kill Kab for Zam and there was so much discussion over how much he will do anything for Zam because he just wants to be around Zam again.

And so he doesn't mind putting the bloodlust to the side as long as it makes Zam happy, because that makes him happy.

But this day Mapicc, once the imminent threat and fight was over, immediately got Zam into a call and confronted him about Derap and then, in the most, like, extremely confident and clear way, explained how Zam not letting him kill Derap made him feel.

He was up front about his emotions, did not project, deflect, or throw shade at Zam at all, and basically just let him know how he was upset that Zam got int the way of his kill and how much he did not like that.

MAPICC: "hmm. Okay. I get you're mr pacifist [..] saving people, but like, my kills are my kills.”

MAPICC: “yea I- they're like my justifications. You know what I mean? So it’s like, it sucks when like, my kills are fucked”

MAPICC: "and like if I had killed him you could have had the heart and then we could have had a better chance of killing the actual bad people. And what would derapchu have done? Had slightly less of his already way too many hearts”

After each of these point he pauses, letting Zam hear what he's saying, letting Zam process it, waiting for Zam to acknowledge where he was coming from.

And each time Zam agrees Mapicc is right. He sees Mapicc's point.

And then the most devotions comment of the conversation:

ZAM: "but should I be allowed to turn a blind eye in that sense?” MAPICC: "well I don't want to be in a situation where I can't talk about what kills I'm gonna get or what I’m doing and I have no backup, you know what I mean?”

He doesn't want to not be able to tell Zam what he's up to. He doesn't want that situation, so he's getting ahead of it and letting Zam know immediately how he feels.

I can't help but feel like this is exactly the reason why Zam always ends up with Mapicc in every season. He is incredibly good at communication and making his point and his opinion clear.

And because he has such a clear opinion on how the server works and what makes it work best, he is incredibly persuasive and Zam ends up following him wherever he goes. (I've heard whispers Zam is thinking of leaving now, haven't gotten there. will be interesting)

I've thought so much over the years how Lifesteal is about convincing other people to do your thing.

Walk into your trap, show up at a fight, yap with you, join your team, stop their lore, whatever it is, the entire thing revolves around persuasion.

Which brings me to the second point, Mapicc is incredibly patient.

The week before the experiments ended, in a muted stream that was saved on the archive, Bacon and Mapicc talk about the server, and Mapicc says his one main goal is to get all the pacifists to break. (9/4/24)

And a week before, while Zam was cleaning up the burned down tree, while talking about how quickly Flame gave up on his fight, Mapicc said, “He’s never fought princezam. He’s gonna have to learn like a new, like dedication to the sport” (8/25/24)

Now, I don't actually think Mapicc had some grad evil manipulation arc to get close to Zam and get him to break (though I'll admit at the time my brain automatically thought everyone is pulling a Spoke wormhole at all times)

But it is more that he realized he would be much more effective in getting Zam to change his opinions if he was close to Zam and could build the trust necessary to get him to see why Mapicc thought his view was flawed, and as an added bonus he would get to hang out with Zam a lot for free.

And here we finally had the perfect moment. Zam died in a fight. Because he had low hearts.

So Mapicc makes it clear how Zam's actions made him feel and then drives his point home about why Zam should think differently the rest of the conversation:

MAPICC: "it’s not cause you were playing shit it's cause you have nothing bro, and it's like, you're a crutch to yourself [..] which is like, you can be a crutch to yourself, but like mapicc is the healthcare” ZAM: "I wanna beat them in pvp. I wanna be able to take them on in a fight and win” MAPICC: “you know what you have to do for that?” ZAM: "*sigh* yea I- I do” ZAM: "and the only person who died in that fight was me” MAPICC: “[sing song] and you know why bro. Like genuinely. Like you can't keep doing this. Well, you can if you want to, I mean obviously you can if your morals, but like-... I don't think it’s the best move” ZAM: "and all I can do is just stand in the destruction” MAPICC: "yup"

Mapicc's ideology for the server is that fighting is always a good, conflict and content should happen all the time. You should kill because it progresses the server forward in some way. You should always have some reason to back up your murder, but that reason can be small, the only important thing is that you have a reason and it is something you can communicate.

He also thinks power is always a reason to kill someone.

Zam on the other hand, Mapicc's beloved friend, does not think the same way, at least not in full. Zam understands conflict should happen on the server, and that the powerful should be fought, and in those situations devotions flourish.

But Zam operates from a character motivation, which he will change season to season, and from his emotions, which means his opinion about himself and his past actions has a HUGE pull on why he does anything ever. This was literally the foundation of this entire stream starting with a 40 minute reflection on s4 and vitalasy.

They are fundamentally, for their deepest core perspectives, ideologically opposed for their opinions on how to act on the server.

Idk if they'll ever be able to be on the same team forever. Sometimes, for brief moments, everything lines up and their devotion runs wild. They work the most synergistically of any duo on lifesteal ever.

But then Mapicc's bloodlust gets too strong and Zam's emotions get too loud and things fall apart.

At least, historically.

(oh, and felt the need to add at the end here that operating from emotions is not a /neg statement. It is entirely /neutral in my mind)

[not-terezi-pyrope]

Now that I think about it, one of the most dated, late-80s-to-early-90s things about the Simpsons is that the comically evil energy executive Mr. Burns, who callously pollutes the environment to accrue more personal wealth, owns a fucking nuclear fission plant, as opposed to what I suppose the original Simpsons writers were framing as the sane, safe, and clean alternative; coal fired turbines.

[corphneux707]

Little Duckling

[Ratio x Child! Reader, Platonic]

Summary: Dr. Ratio takes responsibility of you after an experiment goes awry. Which you, a child, gets isekai’d into the work of Honkai Star Rail. Based on my headcanons here.

To add: This fic is COMPLETELY platonic and gender neutral. Readers age is not specified at all and there is no use of Y/N. New found family type of shit. Not proofread lol.

“Seems like you’re gonna be picked up late, bud.” Your teacher says after putting the call down with your parents. She gently takes your small hands and leads you to the classroom, letting you sit down on the giant rug where all the toys are.

You felt a little sad. Your parents are late again. It's been a long day for you and you want to take a rest now! But looking at your teacher, you didn’t mind spending more time with her. 

Noticing your foul mood getting better, she gives you a toy bear to play with in the meantime. “Here you go. I’ll call someone to watch over you while I go get something. Be good, okay?” You giggle as she ruffles your hair before leaving briefly. Now you’re left alone in the big classroom with a stuffed bear.

“Hello, Mr. Bear” Its stubby paws gesture to a small wave as you puppet it with your hands. A small smile escapes your lips as you play with it more. Your imagination becomes much more creative with imagining scenarios with the bear.

Perhaps you’ll take it in a cool adventure! Or.. or.. maybe somewhere scary where you defeat the evil monster!! Or go solve a mystery with Mr. Bear as a sidekick! How about all of it? Yeah!!!! You pat yourself on the back for being a smart detective in thinking about how you’ll (spend your time) go on an adventure!

Your playtime is cut short when an odd gust of wind blows past you. You look behind and a small crack of whatever is in the air. It pulsates with a soft glow, almost like it's beckoning you to come closer. An ominous feeling creeps up onto your spine and you decide that it isn’t a good thing.

The anomaly suddenly breaks apart in a maelstrom of whirring winds sucking anything nearby. From chairs, tables, toys and everything. The classroom trembles and glass starts to crack.

You act on instinct but struggle to stand up, feeling weaker and weaker. The lights flicker constantly, almost in the same erratic rhythm as your beating heart.Your senses start to dull from the sheer intensity of the situation. Tears threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes and yet only to be sucked in by whatever it is behind you.

“It’s hard to breathe-'' More of your tears are sucked in. Your steps to the door get lighter and lighter, till you’re practically in the air getting sucked towards the portal. And as quickly as you get sucked in, quickly your consciousness fades.

You wake up groggy with a faint ringing in your ear. Soon that ringing turns into indiscernible voices. That’s when you decide to open your eyes. The first thing you see is the blinding lights above you. You blink it all away and focus more properly in the room that you’re in. Clean white room with many digital images on the screen. The occasional beeping of machines filling the void of silence. 

Your lips feel oddly moist. Looking down, an oxygen mask is placed on you, connected to a machine that makes the rhythmic beeps that you hear. You try to try to remove the mask with your hands but that's when you notice a wire inside connected from your hand. Your unease becomes more palpable and your gaze follows the wire connecting to a bag of fluids hung on a rack.

Your breaths start to accelerate. Where the hell were you? Why are you here? What happened? Where are your parents? Where are your siblings? Where is home? Your heart hammers against your ribcage. Sweat trickling down against your forehead, despite the coolness of the room. Irrationality and fear colliding with each other in a dizzying storm.

The machine beside you beeps louder and louder. Incessantly dulling your head to think properly. Your chest starts to tighten and your sobs are unable to escape from your lips because of the bile forming in your throat. Tears well in your eyes- through your blurry vision you reach out for something. Anything.

Your hand is enveloped by something warm. It pulls you in, surrounding you completely in a dull embrace. You shut your eyes to focus on slowing your heart rate, the dullness becoming calming. Still, the intensity of your panic lingers longer. Your hands tremble, yet hold on to the warmth with an iron fist. Scared of letting it go and possibly losing it forever. 

Your senses start to come back and you hear the muffled voice of someone. With the crash of fatigue washing over you, it becomes a lullaby for you. You follow each faint word with a held breath and exhaling slowly. You settle to lean further into the warmth that envelops you, letting you fall asleep with ease.

By the time you wake up again, the warmth is already gone. Instead being poorly replaced by a blanket on you. The blinding lights back again to bite your eyes. You wince and blink rapidly to adjust yourself more. When you try to rub your eyes, your hands are held firmly by someone else.

You squint your eyes to look at them, a shade of purple is something you noticed first. Then a click of a tongue after. “Turn off half of the lights.” A man says and quickly the strain on your eyes is uplifted.

You finally adjust and you see that what was connected to your hand is now gone. But now you can also see him clearly. ‘Huh, so the purple you saw was actually his hair.’ The first thing that came to mind after noticing his hair was to greet the man in front of you. You open your mouth but your throat tightens. No voice comes out of you, so you opt to close your mouth and nod your head instead since your hands are still held back by him.

The man removes his hands from yours carefully, as if anticipating any form of sudden movement from you. You look at him, an odd pair of reddish-pink eyes looking back at you. The reflection of the light highlights the yellow ring around his pupil, consuming you in a hypnotic gaze.

Perhaps because of the peculiarity of his eyes is the reason why you’re so calm at the moment as he backs away to give you ample space to examine you properly. His gaze still unwavering, although with a hint of softness. There's a deliberate sound of calmness in the air as he asks, “Are you feeling well?”

You nod wordlessly in response, not in the mood to speak. He hums in acknowledgement before turning to the other person near the doorway of the room. You see the other person visibly flinch from his gaze and immediately leaves after excusing themself from the room.

Once alone with you, he takes a much more intentional pace in his actions as he takes out an ID from pocket and hands it to you. He points to it then to himself. “I am Doctor. Veritas Ratio. Your current doctor.” He speaks slowly, enunciating each word to make sure you understand properly.

You repeat his name in his head. Veritas Ratio. It's a very unique name that makes your curiosity spark up. He is, afterall, very peculiar. Different hair color, different eyes, different name? How very peculiar indeed!

Your curiosity must've shown when he speaks, “I will entertain your questions in the future. First-” he pauses before giving you a tablet with a blank form needing your information. “Since you can’t speak yet, you will introduce yourself with this”

You take the tablet with sheer astonishment at its sleek, high-tech design. Ratio guides you in the form. “Surely you are adept in inputting?” His question is answered with the furrow of your brows and the tilting of your head as you try to piece together what he meant. 

A small part of Ratio finds endearment from the face of your frustration. He pushes it down to focus on the matter at hand. He leans closer and taps on a blank line on the form, a keyboard appearing on the tablet. Your mood turns from frustration to one of unexpected clarity.

It works like a normal tablet- just looks more techy, you guess. You type your name slowly with your two index fingers. Each press is paired with a beep that amuses you to no end. You signal him that you finished typing by facing the front of the tablet to him with an expectant gaze. Ratio hums, acknowledging you by taking the tablet and reading your name aloud. 

Now it was his turn to look at you expectantly, as if a silent question if he’d pronounced your name correctly. A surge of delight fills you as you nod excitedly with a big smile. Ratio nods at you back. Although his face is stoic, there's a twinge of amusement from him as he watches your eyes twinkle by simply reading your name aloud. 

“Children are truly simple minded.” Ratio concluded audibly. When he notices your head tilted at him, he dismisses you, explaining that it was nothing. He hands you the tablet back and guides you to the rest of the questions in the form. 

Age. “Little one, how old are you?” Ratio asks with a raised brow. You hold up your fingers to show him how old you were. He points to the number you’re supposed to press. Mentally, he notes down the fact that you can count. He just doesn’t know how far. Perhaps he should teach you personally? Who knows what kind of fallacious education any other teacher would provide? Perhaps even… So on and so forth.

You stare at Ratio who is clearly deep in thought. You don’t know why, but currently your empty stomach doesn’t care when it growls loudly. Your face glows red with mortification before turning away from Ratio quickly. Clearly the hospital bed will be your new grave from all this embarrassment.

Your mind changes immediately though after a large hand is gently placed atop of your head. “I’ll be back with some food.” Ratio says before getting up and quickly leaving. You wait for him patiently, and to be fair, it didn’t really take a long time. As if he’s already anticipated your hunger.

The door opens to reveal Ratio holding a tray of food. He sits down next to you and you can clearly see the.. Uh.. food? Much to Ratio’s dismay, your mind quickly changes again. He observes how you looked so appalled with the food he brought. 

Why does it look like green sludge? Is he trying to feed you poison? When he brings a spoonful of whatever he brought, you turn away with a grumble. But your conscience gnaws at you. You wanna be a good kid like how your teacher said! So you, with an unbroken-probably-slightly-broken will, turn back to Ratio who still holds the spoonful to your lips. You gulp cartoonishly, mentally preparing yourself for the battle of your tastebuds.

Quickly, you take a sip and surprisingly it tastes… nothing! It's soft and easy to swallow but that's about it. Nothing special about the meal. You decide to suck it up and keep eating the small spoonfuls that Ratio gives. When you finally finish the meals, a sigh of relief escapes from you when he offers you a glass of water to wash the ‘taste’ away. 

Nonetheless, the battle of your tastebuds is over! Huzzah! But wait- you are immediately distracted by a small, yellow, glossy pudding. Your eyes light up in excitement at the sight of sweet goodness. The pudding glistens as Ratio scoops a small spoonful and feeds to you. You, of course, take a bite as fast as you can.

You savor the velvety sweetness but comforting taste that completely melts in your mouth. Each spoonful fed, the messier you get, causing Ratio to sigh, “You were eating properly earlier and now here you are with a mess on your face.” You raised your hand to wipe your face but Ratio was quicker to wipe the sides of your mouth with a wet wipe. “Let me. You’ll only make a bigger mess” He grumbles. You giggle, the first time Ratio hears your voice.

“Oh? You even have the gall to laugh at the mess you made? The sugar must’ve gotten to you already. Perhaps no more pudding for you.” 

A horrified gasp escapes your lips and immediately you grab his sleeve and tug on it over and over. You stare at Ratio with big eyes that shimmers with apologies and hope for him not to confiscate the pudding you haven’t finished yet. The more that Ratio stares, the more impossible it felt for him to say no to you. 

Although to you, he looked stoic as he was before but you came at him with some prayers and a dream to eat pudding again. Your silent pleading finally works when Ratio sighs and gives you another spoonful of pudding. “Wasting food is not a good thing after all.” You nod, this time you eat carefully so as to not make a mess, lest you give him a chance to take your pudding away again.

You take a small rest to digest properly while Ratio is out to put the empty trays away. Perhaps it was out of boredom when you yawned. By the time Ratio comes back, you were already asleep. He sighs and comes closer to properly tuck you in the bed. Once finished, he just stares at you and thinks about what he needs to do next when you wake up.

A walk in the hospital's garden, some basic hygiene, and probably a place for you to stay. Yeah, sounds good to him. But first, he’s gotta complain to the resource management about the shitty blankets they have. Ratio stands up, turning the lights off on the way to the door. Leaving you with his coat tucked around you.

A/N: That's it for now folks! This is going to have multiple chapters that'll follow my headcanons so its not over yet :3. Thank you so much for reading! A like or a reblog would be very appreciated.

[stars-in-a-jam-jar]

I'm seeing a notable handful of posts in the Amazing Digital Circus tag disagreeing on Gangle's character and I think the big thing about the difference in perspective is really just: How seriously are thou as an audience member taking the 'minimum wage job for a day' premise? (I will singlehandedly re-introduce 'thou' into the english lexicon you watch me, it's so much better than the general-you)

In a world where this is meant to be treated like a shitty little game, Gangle's behaviour in response to Jax misbehaving is really kind of unacceptable. Ragatha's more fucked up by the Stupid Sauce that Caine somehow decided was a good idea to include than she is by the dump in the deep fryer, Gangle did not need to threaten Jax with "horrible punishment" from the most powerful thing in their lives over what amounts to general disrespect and a minor inconvenience. Mr. Orbzman is an NPC and not a person, Jax shouldn't have to hold his tongue about it like he would at a real job where the customers are real people with real feelings. Pomni's feelings over and attachment to Gummigoo are more important than being a good little cashier and playing the game properly. Gangle putting Jax on cleaning duty for the bathrooms when they 'look like a biohazard' is absurd and demeaning because it's a long established fact that this is a digital world where bio-anything is completely meaningless, and she's just making him do unpleasant shit for no reason other than she wants it done and she wants him doing it. And her responding to his continued refusal to play along by locking him in an isolated room, strapping him to a chair, and Doing A Brainwashing To Him is Fucking Horrifying and borderline irredeemable.

Also: "If you have time to lean, you have time to clean." Is frankly an evil thing to say.

But in a world where this is a situation with real stakes, where failure or success in this endeavor Means Something, where Jax dumping Ragatha in the fryer is something that is hurtful and disruptive and unnecessarily cruel, where Jax refusing to keep his mouth shut until he's on break and out of earshot of the customers makes the day of the person he's badmouthing worse and might result in penalties from people above their heads, where Pomni leaving her post to try and talk to Gummigoo is both actively letting down her coworkers who are relying on her to do the job she's been assigned and an imposition on Gummigoo because They Are Strangers Now and there is no taking him back to the circus with her, where Gangle has been trusted with a position of responsibility and authority which has knock on effects for everyone beneath her and Jax won't even clean out the stupid bathrooms when they need cleaning— in that situation, Gangle's very manic and high strung about it and perhaps crosses a line with the whole 'summarily breaking Jax's spirit complete with a horror movie reference' thing, but She's Still Right.

Jax needed an attitude adjustment and nothing was working, so she goes a little nuclear on him. Pomni shouldn't be piling all this emotional baggage on someone who, right now, is a random customer. Gangle's very gentle with Ragatha when she's clearly out of it because she understands something is causing Ragatha to behave loopy and out of character, and in response, Ragatha says the colorful thoughtful gift that's been keeping Gangle together and allowing her to independently function at a level she's usually not capable of makes her annoying!!!

That's somehow so much worse than Jax saying he likes her better sad??? Because at least with Jax, he's expressing his displeasure at being ordered around by someone he previously called "submissive and agreeable" and not having any control over this situation. Ragatha's just saying something mean after telling Gangle she doesn't need help (she does) and thinks she could do a better job as shift manager (she has no proof of this).

And regardless of how seriously thou as the audience member are taking it and why, Gangle is taking it Incredibly Seriously. She is on 'If you die in the game, you die in real life' levels of emotional investment, this is all So Real to her, and anytime the others treat it like it's dumb and useless and hollow, it kicks up So Much Distress within her for reasons I'm gonna trust you guys to think on. And thou might think that is a detriment to her character in and of itself, or thou might be more endeared to her by it, but that is what's happening. So basically the reason some of y'all are coming out of this episode liking Gangle less and some are coming out adoring her is mostly dependent on if you personally are predisposed to take her side by taking the Hard Day's Work At Spudsy's Family Diner seriously.