#So I try to keep that in mind when I do eliminate characters

[kraymerman]

I believe that there is a high likelihood that Alice survived episode 6.

...

Well okay, maybe "survived" isn't the right word, more like I believe that there is a high likelihood that Alice could come back from her death in episode 6.

Why do I think that? Well partly because she's one of my favorite characters and I want her to, but more prominently because she's come back from the dead before (if my theory is correct)!

Now, anyone who has spent some time in the Alice fandom knows about the list. She's in it, it deadnames her (evil trans queen), and so on and so forth. What matters to my post, though, is what her status is labelled as, which, chronologically, would have been her status at the time of Cabin Fever Labs's attempt at patching Nori of the Solver.

There she is, number 017, deadname scribbled out for respect. And what is her status? "Corrupted". Now, we don't know for sure what it means to be "corrupted" (trust me, I have spent several late nights/early mornings trying to figure it out), but my hypothesis is that the state we see Mika (032) and Jame (012) in are the result of being corrupted by a bad patch (Mika left, Jame right)

Chained up, sedated, kinda fleshy, and very dead, right? Now, to explain why I think this is what corruption looks like, it's just process of elimination. It can't be a successful patch because these guys aren't anything like Nori or Yeva (plus it does everything except outright say that Yeva was the first drone at Cabin Fever Labs to receive a successful patch).

Athough I could see a possibility where this is the result of a patch having no effect and the Solver lashing out, the part that hangs it up for me is that these drones wrote on the inside of their locker doors, meaning that they weren't killed then chained up inside of their lockers. It means that they were restrained inside of their lockers, then died on their own afterwards. That's not what would happen if the Solver was on a rampage. Also, even if the writing means nothing and these drones had ineffective patches, the Solver fought back, then they were offed, why would Cabin Fever Labs keep the dead bodies? Let alone chain them up and sedate them? They would've properly disposed of it so as to eliminate a potential host for the Solver, there's no reason they would have kept the body around if this was the product of a "no effect" patch.

So that leaves only one option: corruption. And just looking at it, this feels, at least to me, what "corruption" could look like. A sort of halfway between machine and flesh, chained up and sedated so as to get the spazzing drone from catching anyone, and a slow burnout after being confined in their locker (possibly kept alive so the scientists could see what happened). Seems pretty straightforward to me.

So to bring it back to my original point, this short-circuting freak out, a corruption of the mind, followed by a slow confined death. If this is an accurate evaluation of corruption, then that is what happened to Alice when they tried to patch her. What Mika and Jame look like? At the time of Nori's patching, Alice looked like that too. Despite that, though, she was still, through methods unknown to us, able to not only come back to life, but also completely reverse the fleshiness and return to looking like a completely normal worker drone (minus the knife tail, although I always assumed that that was a self-modification on her part considering it lacks any of the fleshiness characteristic of Solver Tails).

If she was able to come back unscathed from such a terrible fate then, then what's stopping her from using the same methods to come back from a simple head stomp? It was just her head that was crushed after all, not her core.

An addendum: "What Methods?!"

After reading my initial theory, I'm sure you're asking: "unknown methods? What does that mean?" Well I'm glad you asked, hypothetical person reading this that I made up in my head, because that lets me get into the biggest reason why I love Alice as a character so much. She doesn't make any sense according to the rules of the Murder Drones world that we already know. But not in a "she contradicts them", moreso a "she works in a different way", implying that there is a whole new set of rules in this world that exist, but we just don't know about them yet.

Anyone who thinks about Alice for more than a few minutes realizes very quickly how her existence as a drone admitted to Cabin Fever Labs makes no sense. She's very obviously been given the Solver, both because of her "corrupted" status on the list and the fact that she's even here at all, yet she also shows no symptoms of being possessed by the Solver or, most importantly, any signs of possessing the telekinesis/regenerative/create flesh limbs abilities inherent to all drones who possess the Solver, patched or otherwise. Not only that, but she also actively distances herself from drones who do, calling them "witches".

Hell, in the case of regeneration, she straight-up proves she doesn't have it when she replaces the tip of her finger that Uzi bit off with a new one instead of regenerating her old one.

In a comment section somewhere, I saw someone speculate that the reason Alice is like this is because she is asymptomatic to the effects of the Solver. This idea absolutely fascinates me, the idea that, for whatever reason, the Solver sits dormant in Alice's code instead of infecting her like it does all other drones. (I suspect that this is the reason why she was able to come back while other corrupted drones weren't. For a moment, something happened to kick her strand of the Solver out of it's dormancy to bring her back to life, before going dormant again.)

Even if my speculations don't end up being true, this idea that, in some drones, the Solver can lay dormant is still an entirely new concept, a new function of the Solver that we never see it display anywhere else. It's a treasure map hinting at a treasure trove of all-new lore waiting just at the end. The sheer promise Alice has is so exciting to me. There's so much there, hiding just below the surface I can feel it.

It is for this reason that, out of all the Murder Drones characters that go underutilized, Alice is the one that, I feel, is the most desperately deserving of an episode/mini comic series of her own. THERE IS SO MUCH GOING ON HERE, I CAN SMELL IT! WE JUST NEED TO GO A LITTLE DEEPER!!!

[bonefall]

in the rewrite are there any characters that you’ve just straight up gotten rid of?

Because of the nature of my rewrite, not very many characters are gone completely! I'll usually combine them into one big character (Hollytuft&Larksong, Harry&Cinders), kill them as a kit, use them as battle fodder, or I'll just save their name and push them somewhere else.

Because I don't make OCs for the rewrite, character shuffling is very valuable to me.

But a couple of them are gone completely, mostly excessive ThunderClan litters and unneeded background characters. The ones I remember axing completely;

Cody & Coal from TNP

Ashheart is now Ashfur (ShC) but I really think that was an old oversight on the author's part tbh. But anyway that does mean Ashfur (ShC) is eliminated.

Snowbush, Ambermoon, only Dewnose is remaining.

Eaglewing. why are you here

Lilyheart's kids, Leafshade and Honeyfur

In addition, Lilyheart, Seedpaw, Snaptooth, and Flywhisker are all kind of "up in the air" right now.

Snap and Fly may get shuffled to Birch/White's litter with their sisters Sorrelstripe and Spotfur, or they may be pushed up to be Hollylark's siblings. I think it would be cute, though, if Whitewing had the same 'family trait' as her parents, so she has Sorrel and Spot in two single-kit litters just like her and Dew.

Lilyheart and Seedpaw... I like their thing where one parent died in the great battle, and then Seedpaw dies tragically saving her sister causing greater grief. But I killed Brackenfur looooong before they were born, OOPS. So they need to get shuffled, combined, or axed. What makes the most sense is giving them to Dustpelt and Ferncloud.

And on that note I may do a three-way-shuffle with the deaths of Ferncloud, Sorreltail, and Dustpelt. Dust dies in the Great Battle, Sorrel dies in Bramblestar's Storm, and Ferncloud survives to go to the Elder's Den. But... I do actually need more elders, because Thornclaw, Brackenfur, AND MAYBE Cloudtail are all dead by the end of TBC. So depending on how I feel, Sorrel and Fern might both survive well into ASC.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

New Puppet Unlocked: Pomni, the Last Harlequin!

Pomni's character description:

I actually finished this about three days ago, but I didn't wanna post it because I haven't started on the others yet. I eventually decided that fuck it, we ball.

Pomni is the most recent and last model of a Combat Harlequin; P-1210. She doesn't have any remembrance of her life before becoming a Puppet, only the fact that she has an itch in her head that tells her to keep fighting.

After hunting down The Puppetmaster and a duel ensues between the two, it ends with the Harlequin and The Puppetmaster forming an alliance in order to fix the destroyed City.

Now, Pomni spends her time sparring, sharpening her sword, bantering with the Puppetmaster, hunting down bosses and eliminating manic Marionettes.

Fun facts about Pomni:

She likes sandwiches. Specifically, salmon.

She REALLY hates it when someone eats it. (It's Bubble)

She finds some things annoying in other Puppets, and will be blunt about it.

But that doesn't mean she doesn't care. In fact, far from it.

Pomni may come off as cold and jerkish due to her hot-temper, but in reality, her emotions simply have ahold on her more than anyone would ever really think.

Caine thinks that a therapist would benefit her. (honestly though)

She hasn't explored any hobbies outside from anything involving combat.

Pomni occasionally gets glimpses of visions when she dies; she is unaware of what they mean.

Pomni rarely gets drunk; she'll only indulge in alcohol when there's an occasion. Aside from that, she tends to limit Caine's alcohol intake (reasoning that he smells like booze), much to the Puppetmaster's dismay.

She shuts down any form of philosophical advices, thinking they're "typical" and "unnecessary".

She tends to be careless and rude in battle.

When push comes to shove, Pomni can and WILL use her sharp teeth to her advantage.

Pomni initially disliked Ragatha. She found the doll's positive demeanor eerie, and even uncanny, borderline inhuman. Thankfully, a few interactions and heart-heart conversations later, she's changed her mind since.

Bubble usually accompanies her when she's out on missions, a condition she had to agree on just so Caine would let her fight overburdened Puppets. Even though she hates the blimp's nonsense, she knows that his presence is out of necessity, since Bubble is the only way keeping in touch can be possible.

She rarely ever apologizes.

She once stole Caine's cane to try and figure out how his attacks work. She immediately lost interest once she found out it's just a plain, and boring metal cane.

She unlocks the first stage of enlightenment after the first boss.

Battle quotes:

"Yeah, yeah, shut up."

"I didn't come here just for you to act like a wuss!"

"You. Me. This sword. In your head."

"That was pretty stupid of you to do."

"Between you and me, I prefer still having my head on my shoulders."

"This is getting annoying!"

"I've had it with you idiots!"

"I'm gonna celebrate with a Puppet head kebab once I'm done."

"I like the sounds of a sword slashing, and heads bashed in."

"Keep (talking/screaming), and I'll crack your skull open."

Hurt in battle:

"Ah! What the fuck!"

"You're gonna pay for that!"

"Eye for an eye, motherfucker!"

"I normally wouldn't mind... Actually, I always mind."

"When I'm done, you're gonna be unrecognizable."

"Fucking marionettes!"

"Useless scrap!"

"I really, really, REALLY wanna hurt you right about now."

"Ohohoho, you're picking the WRONG fight, BUDDY."

"Asshat!"

"Who do you think you are!?"

Dying:

"This... wasn't supposed to go this way..."

"God.... dammit."

"Agh... fuck."

"That... fucking... hurt."

"I still...! Got fight...! Left in me..."

"This... isn't... over..."

"I'm... not... done..."

[monicahar]

“thanks for the flowers!”

“what flowers?”

in which they find out you receive a gift from someone that isn't them.

characters; wanderer, alhaitham, kaveh

; i keep seeing that damn tiktok 😐 gender neutral reader, fluff, crack,

WANDERER eyes you skeptically, suspicion being evident on his pale features as he scans your expression up and down. has he already caught on to your little prank?

“first of all, who in their right mind would court you? and with some sappy flowers as well?”

you return his unamused gaze, finding him very unfunny.

“you do know that you're dating me, right?”

“unfortunately.” he clicks his tongue, further leaning towards your face, brows still furrowed as if he's trying to decipher something, gazing at you with an unreadable expression that has your resolve crumbling. “is this another one of your antics to get a rise out of me? if so, it's not working.”

his lips break out into a grin upon watching your eyes widen. but your shock doesn't last long—him immediately seeing through your silly scheme isn't an unexpected outcome, funnily enough.

“you're too serious sometimes.” you pout at him whilst he scoffs, “just humor me. what would you actually do if i managed to receive flowers from another?”

“it's simple—you can't.” comes his swift and confident reply, offending you as you stare at him incredulously, weighing the implication of his words.

“you speak of me like i'm the most unattractive person in teyvat—what do you mean i can't?”

“you're an idiot. would i have really chosen you if you were unattractive in any way?” he crosses his arms before facing you completely, indigo hues staring directly into yours.

“i already eliminated all those who dare steal you from me.”

...?

you freeze on the spot, processing what you've just heard.

“...excuse me?”

“—just kidding. i'm no longer that type of person, hah.” he huffs out a derisive laugh, yet his humorous farce does not meet his eyes.

not finding any comfort in his supposed testament of it only being a joke, you opt to stare at him confusingly in return. weirdo.

ALHAITHAM, much like the wanderer, catches on to the prank immediately. whether it's intuition, scarily precise deduction or just the way you generally act weird when it comes to lying to his face—he still figured you out in the end like it's nothing.

but unlike the wanderer, he decides to humor you and play along. what a good boyfriend.

“...you mean you didn't give me the flowers?” you flutter your lashes at him, a horrible and terribly inefficient way to convince him that the whole thing with the flowers is actually real. alhaitham suddenly has the rare urge to laugh. since when did you act like this?

alhaitham shifts in his seat. “no. who do you think it's from?”

“hm.” you hum thoughtfully, bringing a finger to your chin as if in deep thought. the scribe briefly wonders how far you're willing to take this joke. but he digresses—the chances of him actually getting mad at you are akin to that of kaveh finally shutting up—

“maybe kaveh? he grew an interest in flowers recently, so i've heard. maybe he sent some as like a sign of friendship or something along those lines...there's no way it means something else, riiiiiight?”

alhaitham pauses his train of thought.

speak of the devil.

momentarily doubting his conclusion that you're just pulling a prank, he quietly glowers at you as if silently telling you to take back your words.

“what about him?”

you immediately cower upon the drop in his tone—raising your arms in defense when alhaitham moves to stalk closer to you. “i was joking! i didn't get any flowers from anyone and last time i conversed with kaveh was when i—”

“let's go.” he grabs the back of your collar and drags you along, a newfound heavy weight in his footsteps as an indescribable and uncomfortable feeling creeps up on his neck.

“i really was just joking, 'haitham! i was bored and i wanted to annoy you for a bit! i swear!”

even if it wasn't true, the thought of kaveh gifting you flowers without his knowledge—

alhaitham's expression subconsciously turns sour. quite unlucky that you couldn't witness the extremely scarce sight of jealousy on your boyfriend as you are comically dragged against your will behind him.

“the nearest flower shop is just around the corner. tell me if anything piques your interest.” he says in way that has no room for argument. he is getting you flowers now.

KAVEH falls for it, obviously. not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed outside his designated profession, you see.

“i don't remember buying any flowers...” he mutters to himself, the gears in his head turning. it's almost laughable when he finally pieces your words together, a look of disbelief painfully present on his faxe but by some miracle, you resisted the urge to burst out in giggles right then and there. “wait...i didn't send any!”

“is that so...then who would send me flowers other than you?” you edge him on, instigating at its finest, much poking a sleeping bear with a stick while you circle it tauntingly.

an actual enraged kaveh is something you've never seen before, just some tantrums and endless ranting about some clients and his roommate. you've always wanted to see it—just not directed at you, hopefully.

“that's...ah, people already know you're dating me though, so it can't be someone hitting on you. maybe it's just from a relative or—”

“really?” you tilt your head, feigning a bit of confusion. “then i suppose i should keep these red roses then. i'll ask tighnari how to keep them alive, i guess.”

“w-wait, wait—could you repeat that?”

“hm?” you face him, “i'll ask tighnari?”

“no, the one before that.”

“...i'll keep the red roses?” you had to hold yourself back from grinning ear to ear when his eyes widen.

it's not unexpected that someone versed in the beauty of art would recognize one of the most common flower's meaning. quite the handy trivia.

he immediately stands up, grabbing your hand in tow as you yelp in surprise at his abruptness.

“kaveh?!”

“those flowers mean love! like, actual romantic love! i'll burn it for you right now! where'd you put it!?” the intensity of his ruby gaze sends shudders down your spine.

“it's not like i reciprocate it—”

“still, no one other than me should be sending those...!” kaveh tightens his grip on your hands, “i don't like the idea of someone hitting on you. i can't let anyone attempt to take you away from me...”

you blink. “kaveh...”

“—that's why show it to me now! or i'll bite you!”

“okay, okay! jeez...”

now...how are you going to break the news to him that it was actually yellow roses, and most definitely not from an admirer?

the biggest hater of my work is myself. wtf am i writing bruh ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

[buckets-and-trees]

This look is so intense, so don't-give-a-fuck. It does darker things to me... And the hair is a bit messy. It got my muse spiraling down a bit of a dirty course of thought.

Title: Parking Lot Chem Characters/Pairings: raunchy!Bucky x curvy!female reader Word Count: 6.7k Summary: In a bit of a loser era, divorced, dirty, not giving much of a damn about anything, Bucky works a bit of an unconventional night shift that leaves him with a lot of time to kill.

Content Warnings: modern AU, hook up culture, explicit and rough smut, oral (male receiving)/deep throating, vaginal fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, objectification, naked vs. clothed imbalance, coercion, use of "baby" as a term of endearment, dacryphilia, praise, mild degradation (teasing/mean but not vicious), general dirty talk, slight innocence/ruining kink, implied cockwarming, cum play/marking, sex in a semi-public place

Author Notes: I moved to a new apartment in the spring, and I noticed kind of an interesting thing that happens on weeknights across the street from my place. It got my mind spinning, and months later, I'm finally playing with the concept.

Logistical Notes: My July entry for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo using the DEEP THROATING prompt and week 9 of Hot Bucky Summer using the WET AND MESSY prompt.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“Fuck,” he whispers in the dark. Desire and adrenaline rev in his veins at the sight of your headlights parking just where he’d told you to, across the street from the business park complex, in front of the residential apartments.

Bucky’s been working this job for six weeks, and it’s a joke, but it’s a decent-paying joke of a job. From 10pm until 6am, all he has to do is periodically drive a pick up truck around around the large parking lot that services the two business buildings to the north and south of the lot, make sure no one from the apartments across the street to the east or west side park in the lot overnight, and ticket and boot any cars if a resident or visitor is stupid enough to roll the dice and try. Yellow-amber flashing lights affixed to the roof of the truck’s cab, it’s Bucky’s responsibility to deter and keep things clear so that the employees for the companies housed at this business complex can show up and park free of cars, at least one potential hassle eliminated from their corporate working routine.

Eight hours of paid nearly-free time, unbothered by anyone or anything, in the quiet of the night.

He won’t work this job forever, but it sure as shit beats some of the other unappealing options after getting fired from his last job.

He’s read a lot of books sitting in this truck’s cab. He’s played a lot of games on his phone. He’s started putting in a lot of applications for other jobs and even a couple of masters programs. He’s too caught up on news, memes, and social media.

A couple of weeks ago he decided to download a couple of dating apps again, fish and see what’s out there. He’s been divorced for two years now, and Steve and Sam have been dropping hints that he should try and put himself out there again.

Last week he downloaded an app he saw mentioned by a couple of people in chats on the other dating apps - this one known for being a thinly veiled “dating” app full of people who might not be looking for a date so much as a bit of unattached fun.

He started talking to you two nights ago.

There really were plenty of people who were trying to use this particular app for legitimate dating.

But there were subtle signs, particular turns of phrase, avenues of conversation that you could test the waters with to uncover someone else who just wanted to quench some thirst.

And here you were.

Bucky shifts the truck from idle, and drives down the row of parking spaces, turns left to slowly drive down the north side, looking like he’s making one of his routine twice-an-hour laps around the lot, and then takes another left when he gets to the end. He flashes his headlights, and then he smiles as he sees you push open your door and slip out of the car.

“Fuck,” he moans, taking in the first sight of you.

You hastily look both ways - confirming that no one is coming down the road at this godforsaken time of night - then cross the street and step up to the curb just as Bucky pulls up next to you.

He reaches across to push the door open for you - a friendly gesture, certainly not a gentlemanly one, as there is nothing gentlemanly about his intentions toward you tonight.

“Hi,” you say, almost a little breathless. He assumes you must be a little nervous.

That’s cute.

He’s going to ruin you.

If you took any notice of the way he leers at you as you climb up into the cab with him, you would know, and you might hesitate or rethink this poor decision.

But you don’t.

And now the wolf has his prey.

He won’t harm you, but he’s certainly going to have his way with you.

"Hey there," Bucky replies, his voice a low rumble. "Glad you could make it."

You settle into the passenger seat, your eyes darting around the cab nervously. The air feels thick with anticipation. Bucky drinks in the sight of you - flushed cheeks, slightly disheveled hair, the rapid rise and fall of your chest betraying your excitement.

He puts the truck in drive and cruises slowly through the lot, amber lights still flashing above. "So," he drawls, "first time doing something like this?"

You nod, biting your lip. "Yeah, I've never... I mean, I don't usually..."

Bucky chuckles. You might be lying, but he thinks it’s probably true that you haven’t hooked up on this app before. If you made a habit of it, this probably would’ve happened the first night you started chatting.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You’re safe with me." His hand leaves the steering wheel, landing on your thigh. You inhale sharply at the contact, but don't pull away. And he’s not lying. You’re safe, but he plans to thoroughly ruin you before sunrise.

He feels your muscles tense under his palm, but you don't push him away. Instead, you ease into his touch ever so slightly. Bucky smirks, knowing he's got you right where he wants you. But he will play this out slowly.

"So," he says, his voice low and husky, "what you're hoping to get out of tonight."

You swallow hard, your eyes fixed on his hand on your thigh. "I… I'm not sure.” Then your eyes flicked back up to his. “I just knew I wanted to meet you."

Bucky's thumb begins to trace small circles on your leg, inching higher with each rotation. "That so? Well, I've got a few ideas of my own, if you're interested."

He feels the tiny shiver roll through your body, and he bites back a groan.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but tell me more about you. What’s a sweet thing like you needing a dating app for?” he asks, steering you into conversational waters. He wants you to get more comfortable with him, relaxed, so he can ultimately have you completely pliant for him.

You laugh nervously, a hint of self-deprecation in your voice. "Oh, you know. Work keeps me busy. I don't really get out much."

Bucky nods, his eyes still on the road as he steers the truck around another corner of the lot. "What kind of work do you do?"

"I'm in marketing," you reply, relaxing a bit as the conversation turns to safer ground. "It's interesting, but the hours can be long. What about you? Do you... always work nights like this?"

Bucky chuckles. "Nah, this is just temporary. Needed something to pay the bills while I figure out my next move."

His hand is still on your thigh, warm and heavy. He can tell you're acutely aware of it, of how his thumb continues its lazy circles, inching higher with each pass. Your breath catches as he reaches a particularly sensitive spot, and he stops with the circles, but leaves his hand there. He loves that you wore leggings. He can feel every movement of your muscles. You’re stupid for not knowing how intimate that is - or for underestimating how it would drive him wild. He continues to drive. He only needs to circle the lot every thirty to forty-five minutes, but he knows this driving is part of easing you further into this.

"So, marketing," Bucky muses, his voice a low rumble. "That must keep you on your toes. Always chasing the next trend, right?"

You give a small nod, your gaze flickering between his hand still resting on your thigh the unchanging view - familiar to him, but unfamiliar to you - as he continues to drive. "Yeah, it can be pretty intense. But I like the challenge."

Bucky hums in agreement, his eyes alternating between you and the road. "I bet you're good at it too. Reading people, figuring out what they want."

You laugh nervously. "I try. But clearly I'm not that good at reading situations, or I wouldn't be here."

Bucky's hand tightens slightly on your thigh. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. I think you read this situation perfectly."

His words hang in the air between you, charged with promise. You swallow hard, your pulse quickening.

"Just two people wanting to spend time together - nothing more complicated than that,” he reassures you. It’s not a lie. And then he leads you down a slew of safe paths of conversation. Your family, your roommates, where you went for college, places you’d like to travel, a bit about your social life. The more he asks, the more you open up. He clocks some of your responses, but he’s far more interested in how you’re feeling with him, the verbal and non-verbal cues he reads as the minutes turn into an hour. Twenty minutes into that hour, he’d been able to park in the middle of the lot, and you hadn’t batted an eye, completely at ease.

Occasionally your fingers fidget in your lap. Both of you have turned to angle your bodies toward the other. There’s no barrier between you - it’s a full bench seat across from driver to passenger side.

He decides to push things a little further.

"So, back to your marketing expertise?" he says, his voice low and smooth.

You playfully roll your eyes. “I’m not an expert. If I were an expert, I’d be driving a much better car already,” you laugh.

"No, no,” Bucky laughs along with you. “But you said you do have a pretty good job in your firm. Must mean you're… let’s say proficient at selling things? At... persuasion?"

You giggle nervously, maybe a little surprised at the turn of tactic. "I guess you could say that. Why do you ask?"

Bucky's hand slides up your thigh, just a fraction higher. "Just wondering what it might take to persuade you to do something a little... risky tonight."

Your breath hitches audibly. "What... what did you have in mind?"

He smirks, loving how eagerly you've taken his bait. "Well, we've got this whole parking lot to ourselves. No one around for hours. Seems a shame to waste such privacy.”

Another soft nervous laugh falls from your lips, and your eyes dart around. “I don’t know how private this is. We’re in the middle of an open parking lot.”

“Trust me, I’m the expert in this area, and no one is going to even come close to the cab of this truck.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his words, a mix of excitement and apprehension flickering across your face. "I... I'm not sure," you stammer, but your body language tells a different story. You've leaned in closer, your breath quickening.

Bucky's hand slides higher up your thigh, his fingers tracing patterns on the inside of your leg. "Come on, sweet girl," he murmurs, his voice low and persuasive. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

You bite your lip, clearly torn between desire and caution.

His other hand moves to cup your face, thumb brushing across your cheek. You lean into his touch, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

Bucky’s easy smile grows to a smirk. A few more cautious moments, and he knows you’ll be his. His hand slides even higher up your leg, fingertips just barely brushing the junction of your thighs. "How about we start with a kiss and see where things go from there?"

Your breath catches audibly, and for a moment, Bucky thinks you might refuse.

"I don't usually do this kind of thing," you murmur, even as you lean slightly into his touch.

"I know," Bucky says softly, his voice a low rumble. The wolf inside him is clawing at his chest to claim you, to ruin you, but he knows he can’t pounce yet. He needs you to ease completely into his trap.

Then you nod, almost imperceptibly. "Okay," you whisper.

Bucky's eyes darken with desire as he leans in, closing the distance between you. His lips brush against yours softly at first, giving you a final chance to pull away if you change your mind. But you don't. Instead, you press forward, deepening the kiss.

He groans low in his throat, his hand tightening on your thigh as the other slides to the back of your neck, gripping gently. The kiss quickly turns heated, all pretense of hesitation melting away as your lips move against each other hungrily.

Bucky's tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, and you eagerly grant it. As your tongues tangle, he shifts closer, using his grip at the nape of your neck to tilt your head, allowing him better access.

You whimper softly into his mouth, your hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders. He can feel the heat radiating between you. His hand on your thigh tightens, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. A soft whimper escapes you as his tongue slides against yours, and he can feel the last of your reservations melting away. Your hands, which had been fidgeting in your lap, now reach up to grip his shoulders.

As the kiss intensifies, Bucky's hand on your thigh inches higher, his fingers ghosting over your center through your leggings. You gasp into his mouth, your hips instinctively pushing forward to chase his touch.

He breaks the kiss, chuckling darkly. "Eager little thing, aren't you?" he teases.

"I... I'm sorry, I just..."

"Shh," Bucky soothes, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. "Don't apologize. I like it."

Like is an understatement. He’s feral for it. For you.

He leans in again, this time pressing his lips to your neck. You tilt your head, giving him better access as he trails hot kisses down to your collarbone.

"God, you smell good," he murmurs against your skin, his stubble scratching deliciously as he nips at your pulse point.

You moan softly, your hands sliding into his hair. The sinful sound sends a jolt of desire straight through him. His other hand, still resting high on your thigh, begins to move with more purpose. He traces the seam of your leggings, feeling the heat radiating from your core.

"Bucky," you breathe, shuddering under his bold touch.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart," Bucky murmurs against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. His fingers continue their teasing exploration, tracing light patterns over the thin fabric of your leggings.

You whimper, your hips shifting restlessly. "I... I don't know," you breathe, your voice trembling with need.

Bucky chuckles darkly, nipping at your earlobe. "I think you do know. I think you knew exactly what you wanted when you agreed to meet me here. You just need a little... encouragement."

His hand slides higher, cupping you through your leggings. You gasp, your back arching as he applies pressure. "Is this what you want?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

"Yes," you moan, apparently unable to cling to the rest of your hesitation. "Please, Bucky."

He growls low in his throat, loving that he’s got you right where he wants you.

You dart forward, desperate to kiss him again, and he’s happy to provide you that distraction. One hand petting your pussy while you pant eagerly into the eager, open-mouthed kisses, he uses his other hand to unbuckle his jeans, undo the button, and lower the zipper. You’re so drawn in by his mouth and his ministrations on your clothed pussy, that you don’t even notice as he finally frees his raging hard cock.

With your attention fully captured by his skilled fingers and demanding mouth, Bucky takes the opportunity to guide your hand to his now exposed length. You gasp against his lips, pulling back slightly in surprise.

"What's wrong, sweet girl?" he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "Isn't this what you came here for?"

Your eyes are wide, darting between his face and where your hand now rests on his cock. "I... I didn't..."

"Shh," Bucky soothes, his free hand cupping your face. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do." But even as he says this, his hips shift slightly, pressing his hardness more firmly into your palm.

You swallow hard, your breath coming in quick pants. For a moment, you hesitate, but then your hand wraps around him, stroking experimentally.

Bucky groans, his hips bucking slightly into your touch. "Right there. Just like that."

He draws your face back to his, and swallows you up in a wet kiss, his tongue fucking in and out of your mouth, stroking his tongue insistently against yours. He’s coaxing, reeling you back in, and he feels the fruits of his efforts as your hand strokes him with more fervor the longer he kisses you.

You’re lonely. He picked up on that, and he’s using it to his advantage. He’ll give you some of you want to get what he wants, as well.

Bucky breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to see you," he growls, his hand sliding up under your shirt. "Take this off for me."

You hesitate for just a moment before nodding, your fingers fumbling with the hem of your shirt. Bucky helps you pull it over your head, tossing it aside. His eyes darken as they roam over your newly exposed skin.

“No bra?” he chuckles.

You bite your lip and your eyes dart down, away from his face.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, leaning in to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone. His hand cups your breast, thumb brushing over the nipple. You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.

Bucky's other hand continues its teasing exploration between your legs, the friction of your leggings adding to the delicious sensation. You're panting now, hips rocking against his.

"I want you to touch me," he says, his voice low and commanding.

You nod, your hand reaching for his cock again, but he catches your wrist, stopping you.

"Not like that," he growls. "I want your mouth on me."

Your eyes widen, darting between his face and his exposed cock.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he says, but the endearment drips off his tongue with cloying condescension, and he knows it, “You came out here at two am to meet up with a strange guy you only started talking to the night before last. You want to be used. Stop pretending like you’re going to resist. You’re going to let me do whatever the fuck I want with this body.”

You suck in a sharp breath, a wounded look in your eyes.

He chuckles and caresses your cheek. “Aw, you want it, too,” he coos. “You didn’t wear a bra, and I know you didn’t wear any panties either. When I peel these leggings off, your pussy is going to be bared and dripping and so eager for me.”

Your eyes flutter closed, but you don’t argue with him, and he guides you, hand on the back of your neck, to lean down into his lap. "Go on, sweet girl," he encourages. "Show me what a slut you want to be for me.”

Your breath catches. Bucky's words have struck a chord, and he can feel the mix of anticipation and nervousness in the air. It’s a heady thing, and he takes a deep breath as if he could inhale it. It makes his blood run hotter through his limbs.

With trembling hands, you lean the rest of the way in, your face hovering over his exposed cock.

"That's it," Bucky murmurs, his hand still firm on the back of your neck. "Open up for me."

You part your lips, and he feels your hot breath hovering at the head of his cock just a moment before you finally take him into your mouth. Bucky groans, his hips bucking slightly as your warm, wet mouth envelops him.

"Fuck," he hisses, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Good girl. Just like that."

You move slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him, mouthing at the head of his cock. But Bucky is impatient, using his hand, he guides you down more, urging you to take him deeper.

Bucky groans, his head falling back against the headrest as you start to work your tongue along his shaft.

"Fuck, that's good," he breathes, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Take more of me."

You comply, and Bucky's hips buck slightly, pushing himself further into your mouth. You gag a little, but quickly adjust, hollowing your cheeks, and he loves the feel of your soft, velvety mouth around his raging erection.

Bucky watches intently as you work your mouth over his cock, your lips stretched wide around his girth. The sight of you, eyes closed in concentration, cheeks hollowed as you suck, sends a jolt of pleasure through him. He can feel the wet heat of your tongue as it slides along the underside of his shaft, tracing the prominent vein there.

The wet heat of your mouth envelops Bucky, drawing a deep groan from his chest. Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, teasing the sensitive underside before you take him deeper. The tight suction of your lips as you bob your head sends jolts of pleasure through his body.

Bucky's fingers tangle in your hair, guiding your movements. "Yes, baby," he growls. "Take me deeper."

You comply, relaxing your throat to take more of his length. Bucky feels the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and he hisses in pleasure. Your gag reflex kicks in, causing you to sputter and drool. Saliva drips down his shaft, making obscene wet sounds as you continue to work him with your mouth.

"Fuck, you're making such a mess," Bucky groans, watching as your head bobs up and down in his lap. "Such a perfect little cocksucker."

He’s watched a lot of porn since his divorce, and even more these past weeks in the middle of the night in this truck, and this is so much better, but surpassing even his own expectations. Too long since he’d been with a woman.

“Take me deeper." Bucky's grip tightens as he guides you further down his shaft. Your throat constricts around him, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. He can feel every swallow, every twitch of your tongue as you struggle to accommodate his girth.

"That's it, baby," he groans, his hips bucking slightly. "Swallow all of me."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you gag around him, but you don't pull away. Instead, you double your efforts, hollowing your cheeks and sucking harder. Saliva continues to pool at the corners of your mouth, trickling down his length in glistening rivulets.

The sight of you, lips stretched wide and chin slick with spit, is almost too much for Bucky to bear. He watches, transfixed, as your head bobs up and down, your tongue swirling around his tip before diving back in. Your lips stretch wide around his girth, glistening with spit and precum.

Your nose brushes against his pelvis as you swallow around him, throat constricting deliciously. He feels the vibrations of your muffled moan around his shaft and it sends sparks of pleasure up his spine.

"Fuck," he growls. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. That, baby."

The pleasure builds, coiling tighter in Bucky's core with each bob of your head. He's close, so close, but he doesn't want to finish like this. Not when there's so much more he wants to do to you.

With a growl, he tugs your hair, pulling you off his cock. You gasp for air, lips swollen and glistening, a thin strand of saliva still connecting you to him. The sight nearly undoes him.

"Stand up," he commands, his voice rough with desire.

You comply, awkward and shaky on your feet in the confined space of the truck cab. Bucky's hands go to your hips, fingers hooking into the waistband of your leggings.

"These need to come off. Now."

You hesitate for just a moment, but the fire in Bucky's eyes brooks no argument. You shimmy them down with Bucky’s rough help, and true to what he said, you’re now fully naked and exposed to him. His smile is pleased, possessive, predatory as you sit back down on the seat of the cab.

Bucky's eyes rake over your newly exposed form, drinking in every curve and contour. He loves the sight of your pussy, bare, a thatch of curls, waiting and glistening with arousal. He licks his lips, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"Look at you," he murmurs, voice thick with lust. "So wet and ready for me already."

His hand slides up your thigh, fingers ghosting over your slick folds. You shiver at his touch, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

"Please," you whisper, voice trembling with need.

Bucky chuckles darkly. "Please what, baby?"

You squirm under his intense gaze, cheeks flushed with a mix of arousal and embarrassment. "I... I want you to touch me."

"Oh, I'm going to do more than touch you," Bucky growls, suddenly pulling you into his lap. You gasp as you feel his hard cock pressing against your ass. "I'm going to ruin you."

His fingers find your clit, circling it with firm, deliberate strokes. You arch into his touch, a breathy moan escaping your lips. Bucky's other hand comes up to cup your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers.

"That's it," he growls in your ear. "Let me hear how much you want this."

You whimper, grinding down against his fingers. Your head falls back against his shoulder, exposing the long line of your neck. Bucky takes advantage, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there.

His fingers move lower, teasing your entrance. You're so wet, his digits slide in easily, and you cry out at the sudden intrusion.

"Fuck, you're tight," Bucky groans, pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."

You're panting now, rocking your hips to meet each thrust of his fingers. The cab of the truck is filled with the obscene sounds of your wet pussy and your desperate moans.

Bucky's fingers work you relentlessly, curling and stroking inside you as his thumb circles your clit. You're writhing in his lap, gasping and moaning as pleasure builds.

"Ride my fingers, baby. Show me how bad you want it."

"Bucky," you gasp, "I'm so close..."

He increases the pressure on your clit, rubbing tight circles as his fingers curl inside you.

"Please," you whimper, your head falling back against his shoulder again. "I need more."

Bucky chuckles darkly. "Greedy little thing, aren't you?" Roughly, he pinches your nipple, making you jerk and cry out.

Bucky's skilled fingers continue their relentless assault, pumping in and out of your dripping pussy while his thumb works your clit. Your body trembles, teetering on the edge of release.

"You want more?" he taunts, his hot breath tickling your ear. "I'll give you more."

Suddenly, he adds a third finger, stretching you further. The additional fullness makes you gasp, your back arching as he drives his fingers deeper. His other hand leaves your breast, sliding down to spread your legs wider.

"Look at how wet you are," Bucky murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Your pussy's practically weeping for me."

His fingers curl inside you, finding that perfect spot that makes you see stars. You cry out, your hips bucking wildly against his hand.

"I can feel how close you are,” he growls in your ear. “Your little cunt is clenching around my fingers."

His other hand returns to roughly knead your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple. The dual sensations send sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. You're trembling in his lap, right on the edge of release.

"Bucky, please," you whimper, your hips rocking desperately against his hand.

"Please what?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous. "Tell me what you need."

"I need to come," you gasp. "Please, make me come."

Bucky chuckles darkly. "Oh, I'll make you come alright. I'll make you fucking gush for me."

He increases the pressure on your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles as his fingers curl inside you, seeking that special spot. When he finds it, you cry out, your back arching. Bucky's fingers continue to work you relentlessly, curling and stroking that spongy spot inside you as his thumb applies insistent pressure to your throbbing clit. He builds and builds his ministrations until you're a trembling, whimpering and writhing mess in his lap.

"Fucking perfect," he praises in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. Your desperate grinding is torturous to his cock, and he could explode just from rutting against you like this.

But Bucky doesn't let up. If anything, he increases the pressure, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a frantic pace.

"Don't stop," he commands, his voice rough with desire. "Keep going. I know you've got more in you."

You're gasping, your hips jerking erratically, and then suddenly the orgasm rolls over you like a tidal wave, and there’s a surge of hunger that spurs him on. Your back arches sharply, pressing your breasts into his rough palms as you cry out, your voice echoing in the confined space of the truck cab.

Bucky only intensifies his efforts, his fingers pumping faster, harder, curling to hit that spot inside you with unerring accuracy. He’s seeking even more, pushing you impossibly higher, your body trembling uncontrollably in his lap.

"Oh god, oh god," you whimper and strain.

And still he works your body.

You try and squirm away, but he’s so much stronger than you, he easily keeps you in his lap. He moves his other hand down to your pussy so his right can focus fully on fucking in and out of your hole to molest your g-spot while his left zeroes in and demands more of your clit.

And then you cry for him from both ends, a sob escaping your mouth as your pussy gushes, spilling wetness over him, soaking his jeans and the seat beneath.

You slump, slack in his arms, but try to lean and move away and off his lap.

Bucky laughs, triumphant, and wraps his arm around your waist to keep you pressed to him. He presses a hot kiss to your neck. His other hand wipes the wetness over your thigh, making more of a mess.

“You’ve never squirted before, have you, baby?” he speaks low, directly into your ear.

“No,” you sniffle.

He nips the lobe of your ear and turns your head to face him. “Aw, did I make you cry?”

You close your eyes, and more tears trickle down your cheeks.

He slowly licks a stripe up your cheek, relishing the salty taste of your tears. It makes his cock twitch.

“I wonder what other firsts we can tick off for you.”

You shiver, and he squeezes around your middle. “It was overwhelming, wasn’t it?” he asks, and you nod, eyes still closed.

He kisses your cheek, and you let out a shuddery breath.

“But it felt good, didn’t it, baby?”

You open your eyes and bite your lip, then a small nod.

“Such a pretty slut for me,” he praises, and then he’s plundering your mouth again, and you turn your torso more to him. He plays more with the wet mess of gush and slick over your thighs.

Bucky sears your lips with his mouth, his tongue delving deep as he tastes you. You whimper into the kiss, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasms. His hands roam your body, kneading your breasts, trailing down your sides, gripping your hips.

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips along your jaw, down your neck. You tilt your head, giving him better access as he sucks and nips at your pulse point. His stubble scratches deliciously against your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"You taste so sweet," he murmurs against your skin. "I could devour you all night."

His words make you shudder, and his chest rumbles in approval. Bucky's hands continue their exploration, one sliding up to cup your breast, the other dipping between your thighs to tease your still-sensitive folds.

You gasp as his fingers brush your clit, oversensitive and swollen. He chuckles darkly, circling the bundle of nerves with feather-light touches that have you squirming again in his lap.

Bucky's hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he maneuvers you in the cramped space of the truck cab. "On your knees," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I want you on your knees for me."

You comply, your body still trembling from your intense orgasms. The leather seat is cool against your flushed skin as you position yourself on all fours, facing the passenger side door. Bucky's large hands run down your spine, making you shiver. He runs his hands over the curve of your hips, down to your thighs, spreading them wider.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "So eager for my cock."

You whimper in response, pushing your hips back towards him. Bucky chuckles darkly, one hand coming down in a sharp smack on your ass. The sound echoes in the cab, and you gasp.

"Patience, baby," he teases, soothing the flesh he just spanked.

Bucky's hands knead your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to get a better view of your glistening folds.

"Such a pretty little thing," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "And all mine for the night."

He positions himself behind you. His cock, hard and thick, brushes against your inner thigh. You shudder in anticipation. He groans behind you, and then he pushes the blunt head, angry head of his cock against your entrance.

"You ready?" he asks, teasing you with just the tip.

You whimper, pressing back against him. "Please," you beg, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky grips your hips, pulling you back slightly. The head of his cock teases your entrance, sliding through your slick folds. You moan, pressing back against him, silently begging for more.

"Eager little slut," he chuckles darkly. "Don't worry, baby. I'm going to give you exactly what you need."

Without further warning, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt inside you. You cry out at the sudden fullness, your walls stretching to accommodate his size.

"Fuck," Bucky groans, his fingers digging into your flesh. "So tight.”

Bucky's hands control your hips, squeezing tightly as he begins to move, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. The force of his thrusts rocks you forward, and you have to brace yourself against the passenger door to keep from hitting your head.

"Take my cock like the good little slut you are," he snarls.

Bucky leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he continues to pound into you. One hand snakes around to grope your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. The other slides down to rub circles on your clit.

"You like that, don't you?" he pants in your ear, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "Like being used like a cheap whore in the back of a truck?"

You whimper in response, pushing back to meet his thrusts. The angle allows him to hit spots deeper inside you, drawing a groan from his chest. Has he ever been this deep in such a perfect pussy?

"Bucky," you gasp, "oh god, Bucky..."

"That's right, baby," Bucky growls, his hips snapping against yours relentlessly. "Say my name. Let me hear how much you love my cock."

He reaches around to the front of your pussy, fingers work your clit faster, matching the punishing pace of his thrusts. You're trembling beneath him, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations. The truck rocks with the force of his movements, the amber lights still flashing outside, casting an eerie glow over your writhing bodies.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Bucky groans, his breath hot against your ear. "So tight and wet for me. Such a perfect little fuck toy."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and he loves the way his words affect you as much as his actions do.

Bucky's other hand leaves your hip, sliding up to wrap around your throat. He doesn't squeeze, just holds you there, a silent threat that sends your heart racing, and he loves feeling how your pulse jumped at that.

"You gonna come for me again?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous. "Gonna cream on my cock?”

You nod frantically, evidently unable to form words as he keeps pouring and overwhelming you with pleasure.

"Answer me," he demands, tightening his grip ever so slightly on your throat.

"Yes!" you gasp out. "Yes, I'm gonna come for you!"

"That's it," he growls, tightening his grip on your throat just slightly. "Let go. Come apart on my fat cock."

His words push you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you, your inner walls clenching around him as you cry out his name. Bucky groans, his hips stuttering as your pussy milks his cock.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants, his thrusts becoming erratic. With a final, deep thrust, he buries himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his seed.

You both stay there for a moment, panting heavily, your bodies slick with sweat. Bucky's hand releases your throat, sliding down to rest on your heaving chest. He presses a kiss to your shoulder blade, then slowly pulls out, eliciting a whimper from you at the loss.

He brings his hand down to your wet, messy folds, and you twitch at the feel of his fingers, clearly oversensitive. He hums, collecting some of the mixed spend slipping out of you, and he rubs it over your lower back. He doesn’t want you to forget what a dirty girl you’ve been for him.

Bucky helps you sit back up, pulling you onto his lap once more. You're both sticky with sweat and other fluids, the air in the truck cab heavy with the scent of sex. He brushes your hair back from your face, his touch gentle after the roughness of your encounter.

"You did so well, baby," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "Such a good girl for me."

You shiver at his praise, nestling closer to his broad chest, your naked form cocooning against him, still fully clothed, only his cock ever coming unsheathed during all of that. He’s edging on a little too warm, but the coolness of the middle of the night helps. His arms wrap around you, holding you tight against him. For a moment, there's just the sound of your breathing slowly returning to normal and the faint hum of the truck's engine.

"We should probably get cleaned up," you say after a while, your voice slightly hoarse.

Bucky chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Probably," he agrees, but makes no move to let you go. Instead, his hand trails down your spine, making you arch into him. "But I'm not done with you yet, baby. The night's still young, and I've got plans for you."

You blink up at him, and he ducks in to peck at your lips.

“Let me just take another round of the lot, and then I’ll kiss you stupid, eat you out, and fuck you again.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he stops you with a quick kiss. He smiles when he pulls away and sees your eyes are falling hazy again. He strokes his hand up and down your spine, “Don’t worry, baby, you can stay right here in my lap while we drive.”

He leaves no room for protest, pulls the truck into gear, and goes for another round, looking forward to the rest of his shift.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

Hi. Still with me? We made it!

I doubt the person who does this across the street from my window five nights a week is anything close to Bucky, but true story, someone's in this truck with the yellow flashing lights, and my mind wants it to be a dirty Bucky that I'd make the unwise decision to jump into a cab with.

[candycandy00]

Finding Love in a Zombie Apocalypse - A JJK Interactive Romance Fanfic Round 1

Read the details about this event here!

During a zombie apocalypse, you meet a group of seven handsome men. Which one will you choose to be your survival/romantic partner?

Vote for the man you want to be eliminated! The man with the most votes will not be killed off in the story, but he will be removed from all future polls and his branching story will be closed off!

Reminder: Vote for the man you DO NOT want to survive with! You are voting someone OUT!

For the first two rounds, I’m not naming the men. You can probably figure out who is who, but that’s part of the fun! I’m doing it this way to encourage readers to vote based on the scenario rather than just automatically voting out their least fave character.

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

The dead walk! The world has been plunged into a zombie apocalypse, and you’re barely able to flee your home in the city before the place gets completely overrun. You try to survive alone for a couple of weeks, but you realize you can’t make it on your own. You need to find a group, or at least a partner to help you keep watch at night. Because as the panic and chaos set in, humans become as dangerous as the living dead. 

With this in mind, you wander into a tiny abandoned town twenty miles outside the city. You’re hoping to find some supplies to last you until you can find help, so you cautiously walk down the street, a crowbar gripped tightly in your hand. 

You hear them before you see them. A cacophony of groans and growls coming from a nearby alley. You freeze, trying to decide whether to run back the way you came or try to hide in a building. When the first few zombies shamble out of the alley, you no longer have a choice. They’ve seen you, and they’ll pursue you relentlessly. You run to the nearest shop, a boutique with expensive looking dresses on mannequins in the window, and try the door. Locked!

You run to the next building, which seems to be a small post office, but it’s locked too! Panicking, you begin trying every door you come across, but all of them are either locked, or completely shattered to the point that entering would offer no protection at all. 

“Hey! This way!” you hear a voice shout. 

You look up to see a grocery store at the end of the street. You can see a man’s silhouette against the warm light of the store. He’s waving you over, so you make a mad dash for him, the herd of zombies hot on your trail. 

When you’re just a few feet from the door, from safety, you feel a dead, clammy hand on your arm, pulling you back. You scream, trying to jerk free, but a second hand grips your other arm. 

You’re close enough to see the man, see his worried expression. He starts toward you to help, but another, bigger man suddenly runs out of the store. With nothing but his bare hands, he rips the zombies away from you, allowing you to sprint into the store. The two men come in after you and pull the door to the grocery store shut, locking it up tight. 

Once inside, you scan the store. There are five more men here, all incredibly attractive. What did you just wander into?

The men explain that they’re traveling together and decided to stop at this store for a while to rest and stock up on supplies. One of them has worked here before and has a key to the stock room. Some of them seem to know each other better than others, but they all get along well enough from what you can tell. 

They invite you to stay, and you agree, so you go around the store to properly meet each of them.

Man #1: 

The first man you approach is the one who had called out to you and waved you over. He’s sitting on a turned over crate, and beside him is a box holding useful items like flashlights and batteries. He looks up at you when you get close enough. 

“I just wanted to thank you for helping me,” you tell him. 

He gives you a somewhat awkward smile. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough to help you when you were grabbed.”

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it. You were going to help. That’s enough for me. So how long do you guys plan to stay here?”

He glances toward the others. “Hopefully not long. I need to get to the next town quickly. Someone is waiting for me.”

You’re tempted to ask about that, but you don’t want to pry. Still, you can’t help wondering who is waiting for him. Family? A lover? 

“I hope you find them,” you say, and he smiles again. This time it’s a more natural, comfortable smile, and it somehow puts you at ease. 

“If you need anything, feel free to take it. There’s plenty of supplies here.”

You return his genuine smile. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

He gives a friendly wave as you walk away. Before you get too far, he adds, “Let me know if you need help with anything!”

Man #2: 

The next man you approach is the one who ran out and tore the zombies off you. He’s lounging in a plastic pool chair, and you have no idea how it hasn’t already collapsed beneath him. He’s tall, and clearly strong. To be honest, he’s a little intimidating, but you gather your courage and walk over to him. 

“Thank you for helping me,” you say. 

He glances up at you, a small grin on his face. “Don’t worry about it. I was getting bored in here anyway.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. You look down and see a crate full of food on the floor beside him. They’re all non-perishables, smart choices to take. 

“How long have you guys been here?” you ask, trying to make conversation. 

He leans back in the chair, his arms behind his head. “Since yesterday. We’ve been here too long if you ask me.”

“In a hurry to get somewhere?” 

He shrugs. “I just don’t like staying in one place for too long.”

“Aren’t you scared to go back out there? The zombies seem to be growing in numbers,” you say. It’s true that you’ve been seeing more and more lately. 

The man laughs. “I’m not worried about zombies. They go down too easily.”

You give a nervous laugh. He certainly seems capable of fighting off zombies, and his confidence is reassuring. But there’s a certain excitement in his eyes that makes you anxious. So you smile and nod then move on to the next man.

Man #3: 

The third man you approach is speaking to a couple of the others, so you wait patiently for them to finish. The other two walk away to continue whatever they were doing, and you take this chance to say hello. 

His smile is quite charming as he turns to face you. “Hello there. Are you alright? That must have been frightening.”

For a moment, you don’t know what he’s talking about. He’s so good looking that your mind nearly went blank. Then you remember that you were attacked by zombies just a few minutes ago. “Oh, yeah, that was pretty scary. I’ve been in similar situations before though.”

“Really? Well I’m glad you’re safe now,” he says. 

“Thanks,” you tell him. “You guys were lucky to find this place. It’s still well stocked.”

He nods. “As soon as I heard about it, I knew we needed to come here to gather supplies. We’ll have more options later if we have plenty of necessities.”

He seems like a man who likes to plan things out in advance. Definitely a good thing in a world that’s turned to chaos. “Smart move,” you say. 

He smiles again, and for the first time you notice that his smile doesn’t feel totally genuine. “Smart moves are the only way to survive now.”

“You’re right about that,” you say as you wave politely and walk away.

Man #4: 

The next man you decide to speak to is currently standing near the front door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. 

“Are you on watch duty?” you ask him as you step closer to him. 

He looks down at you, because he’s unusually tall. “Yeah. Someone’s gotta do it. Been my turn for the past hour.”

It doesn’t escape your notice that if he’s been on watch for an hour, he probably saw you running toward the store, being chased by zombies. If that’s the case, why wasn’t he the one who called out to you? 

Deciding not to mention that, you decide to try being friendly. “I wouldn’t want to be the zombie trying break into this place, with you standing guard.”

He gives you a hint of a grin, then asks, “Did you come from the city?”

“Yeah,” you say with a nod. 

He hesitates, as if deciding whether to ask his next question or not. Then, in a more quiet voice, asks, “How bad was it?”

Something about his tone feels… sad? You decide to be honest, but gentle. “My little part of the city was overrun. But a lot of people made it out. And there were a lot of places digging in and setting up fortified shelters.”

“I see,” he says, glancing out the glass door. “Guess I’ll check those when I get there.”

“You’re going to the city?” 

“Yep. There’s something I gotta do there.”

You give him what you hope is an encouraging smile. “I hope it works out for you.”

He looks at you again. “Thanks.”

Man #5: 

You find the next man in the hardware aisle. There’s not much left, but he’s got an armload of gray duck tape. 

“Hi there,” you say, smiling when he looks up at you.

He doesn’t return the smile, but he nods to you in acknowledgement. 

You eye the tape. “Something broken?”

“The tape makes for great armor,” he says. “Wrap it around your arms and ankles, zombie teeth have a hard time penetrating it.”

“That’s a good idea,” you tell him, genuinely impressed. Why haven’t you thought of something like that before? 

He hands you a couple of his rolls. “Wrap up before we leave. It might save your life.”

You take them gratefully, deciding he’s a pretty nice guy despite your initial impression. “Thanks. I really appreciate you guys letting me in.”

He finally shows you a subtle smile. “It wouldn’t be right to just leave you out there. If someone has the means to help another person, they should do it.”

“I agree,” you say. “I’m glad there are still other people who feel that way.”

He looks down. “We’re probably in the minority though.”

“I hope not,” you reply, then wave to him as you walk away.

Man #6:

The next man nearly bumps into you as he walks out of the stock room. There’s a shopping basket full of food on his arm. “Oh, sorry,” he says, stopping and looking down at you. 

You dismiss his apology with a smile and a wave of your hand. “Is it alright if I go in?” you ask him. You’ve already been told by someone else to take whatever you want, but you feel the need to ask again now that you’re face to face with someone else as you walk in. 

He smiles in a friendly, easy going way. “Sure. It’s not like we own the store, so take whatever you like!”

“Thanks.”

“Need any help?” he asks, stepping aside to give you room. “Some of the best stuff is on the top shelves.”

You notice that he’s already got quite the load. “That’s okay. I’m sure I can manage. Thanks for offering.”

He smiles again. Somehow it seems to brighten the whole store. “You don’t have to be so polite. We’re just a bunch of random guys.”

“How did you guys meet?” you ask. You’ve been curious about their relationships since you first got here. 

“Some of us have known each other for a long time, but most of us met up at a shelter about thirty miles back.”

You think for a moment about his answer, then ask, “Why leave the shelter?” You had been to one yourself, but you were alone and you got a bad vibe from the men running it so you left after two days. 

His smile falters. “Someone was hiding a bite. They turned, attacked more people who turned and attacked more. The whole place broke down in less than an hour.”

That sounded horrifying. “I’m sorry,” you say, not sure how else to respond to that. 

“Don’t be,” he says, smile back on his face. “We got out, so I’m guessing other people did too. Just have to hold onto hope, you know?”

You return his infectious smile. “Yeah, I know,” you tell him before walking into the stock room.

Man #7:

You find the last man in the stock room, standing in the middle of it, looking over the shelves. There’s a clipboard in his hand with papers attached to it. When he notices you entering the room, he turns to face you. 

“Oh, hello. Do you need help with anything?”

“No, I’m just looking around,” you say. Then your eyes drop to the clipboard. “Taking stock of what’s left?”

“I found this inventory list in here when we first arrived. I was looking it over to make sure we didn’t miss anything useful,” he tells you. 

“Find anything?”

He points to a large, open cardboard box on a shelf. “I didn’t realize a small grocery store would have so many first aid products, so that was a nice surprise.”

“I bet,” you say, scanning the shelves. 

He holds the clipboard out to you. “Would you like to take a look?”

You take it from him. “Thanks,” you say, your eyes moving over the list. As you read over it, you make conversation. “Any idea where you guys are heading?”

“From what I understand, we’re going somewhere more rural, less populated. The plan is to look for somewhere to set up a permanent base.”

You look up. The word “permanent” caught your attention. It’s a word that feels nebulous and unattainable right now. “That sounds nice,” you say. 

He gives you a warm look. “You’re welcome to come with us for as long as you like.”

Something about him makes you feel secure. Maybe it’s because he seems so calm and composed. “I think I’ll tag along for a while,” you tell him. 

He nods. “I look forward to getting to know you.”

Tag List:

@tadabzzzbee

[loassbarbie]

"my wishes are conflicting and I don't know what to manifest" - stop "building a masterplan" right. now.

(if you're struggling with manifesting different things - an sp, a career, because you think they should match: this is for you.)

Before anything else: you need to have a heart-to-heart with yourself.

Now, ever since I was a teenager I do it in the bathroom. That's right. I sit on the toilet and have endless conversations with myself. I play two characters: myself and myself as a therapist (what would I say to this person if they came to me for advice?). When I'm "portraying" the therapist, I do it with an open heart; "those are not my problems, I'm just listening to someone else, so I can be fully honest with them" (if that makes sense). Like REALLY find that counselor inside your mind; they are there, they just need to be called. It's like doing self-parenting work to heal from mother/father wounds.

I had a heart-to-heart with myself last night. I was experiencing a lot of anxiety regarding what I actually wanted, specially career-wise and "how that related to my sp". Here are some "highlights" of what my inner therapist told me.

WHY exactly do you want this career? What is your TRUE motivation for wanting this?

Me: "I am extremely focused on an sp right now, an sp who doesn't know me. A celebrity. So I keep trying to find the jobs that will give me the biggest chance to run into him. I want to become someone he admires."

Well, you say you believe in this law (of Assumption), right? Then why aren't you practicing it? The law says it is done. Doesn't matter how, or where, or why, you already have it. If you manifest that your sp is crazy for you no matter what you do for a living, if you manifest you two are together, if you have it in your 4D, if you REALLY have it on your 4D (if you can feel it, if you can live it in your mind, if thinking about it makes you happy, if you KNOW you have it because 4D IS THE REALITY), the Universe will make it reflect on your 3D, not you! Stop trying to generate situations, it's a lot simpler than you think: assume and continue assuming. It's done. It already happened. It'll reflect on your 3D one way or the other; it is not your job to choose/plan how or where or why it'll happen, it just will! In fact, if you keep doubting it will happen because you don't know EXACTLY the circumstances in which it will, this means you are doubting! And if you persist on your doubt, you are not persisting on your assumption. The doubt is taking control of your mind, not allowing you to persist on your assumption. If you don't ASSUME IT'S DONE, THEN I'M SORRY, BUT IT REALLY ISN'T! Trying to DIY the law (picking careers, fixing ways to get near your sp) is NOT TRUSTING THE LAW WORKS.

Now that you've realized you don't need to follow a specific path to have your sp, what exactly do YOU wanna do? What is that career that makes your heart beat faster, that makes you shiver; what is your dream job? Don't consider any other factors; forget about your sp, don't reminisce about it being "hard to get", don't think about money. And SPECIALLY don't think "what will I do if it doesn't work?" - that doubt is exactly what is going to keep you from living it. Think about that. What do you truly want to do? What do you want to do the most? If you take a minute to eliminate every obstacle society has invented for you, you'll find that answer inside of you.

Stay true to your heart and trust the process.

That's really all it takes. No masterplan, no connecting the dots. That is the Universe's job, not yours.

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Reversing Victim and Offender

Okay, okay, hear me out.

Jack being a creepy manipulative yandere.

Yes, yes, I know, totally a revolutionary idea there to have a yandere horror game’s antagonist do something creepy and wrong. It’s just that I don’t often play with Jack losing himself to his more depraved impulses. Long time readers know I tend to be quite a marshmallow who prefers the fluffier side of things, as evidenced by many cuddly posts of my OTP and Sunshine in Hell being overall a softer version of the game, but sometimes it’s fun to watch the world burn and see the characters we love get to be a bit unhinged. As a treat.

Content Warning: this post is about Jack being a naughty manipulative yandere, attempted murder, influenced attempted self-murder, possession, mental manipulation, bloody violence, and a sprinkle of horny.

We know Jack can be a manipulative little devil when it comes to keeping his sunshine. We’ve seen him use his honeyed words to lure MC into his arms in the previous demos. We’ve seen the classic chilling concept art where he talks his rival(?) into doing the dirty work for him when he wants them gone.

Credit as always goes to Sauce for their awesome art, as well as a quick plug to the SnaccPop Patreon. Speaking of the Patreon, there’s a members only post on this very topic, an absolutely chilling audio drama of Jack using his state as a ghost(?) to his advantage.

It seems that Jack has the ability to possess people, and his modus operandi in eliminating his rivals seems to be tormenting them to the point of self-harm. Nick received a taste of that in the older demo, and in the now removed trailer.

But what if the person Jack directed his rival to hurt wasn’t themselves?

Jack is of the opinion that MC’s friends (and potential love interests) are inferior to him, as we’ve seen in his profile. MC doesn’t need them, as Jack says in this unsettling animation by Sauce, as well as many other development art. He proves this by giving MC whatever they want and need, being whatever they want and need him to be. No one else would do that for MC, so that proves that the only one they need is him.

To some degree, MC seems to believe that, at least during the early part of the game. As we can see in the “No” route, MC is dependent on Jack, panicking when they can no longer touch him.

The idea of losing Jack terrifies MC.

What happened to Jack clearly disturbed him, as we saw by his haunted look, but perhaps he found some comfort in the fact that MC was so upset by it. It might at least reassure him that they care, even if it might not be as much as he wants them to.

As I’ve theorized in previous posts, Jack and MC seem to be able to sense each other’s feelings, and it was implied that Jack can read their mind, as well as impress his thoughts into theirs. Perhaps he even felt their fear and desperation at that moment… as well as their need to keep him.

As scary as that moment was, Jack might have been able to get some pleasure out of feeling his sunshine’s need for him, don’t you think?

Jack won’t disappear as long as MC needs him, and he doesn’t want them to feel unhappy or hurt, but wouldn’t being with other people trying to steal them away from him hurt them more in the long run? MC doesn’t see what Jack does, how much of a threat those rivals other “friends” are.

After all… Ian was someone MC once held so dear, and he hurt them so, so badly. He’s trying to come back into their lives, and MC clearly still cares about him even if they’re trying to move on. How can Jack just stand idly by and let MC get hurt again when they don’t see just how bad Ian is for them?

MC might not be able to see how Ian and the other love interests could hurt them, but perhaps Jack could show his beloved sunshine just how cruel they can be.

Of course, Jack doesn’t want MC to get hurt. He would never! But, well, some lessons can be a bit harsher than others. Learning them can sting a bit and even make us upset, but as long as the lesson doesn’t do lasting harm and improves things for them, well, then it’s a good lesson!

Besides, this lesson will hurt Jack more than it hurts MC… in the most literal sense.

This classic audio drama of Jack’s villainous monologue makes me think that he’ll eventually find a way to become much more tangible in the real world. Sure, he could be saying all this while possessing his rival, but it seems more like a face-to-face confrontation. Naturally, for a face-to-face confrontation, Jack would need a face that’s actually visible to the person he’s taunting.

Perhaps the closer Jack gets to MC, the more they love him, the more real he becomes. It could be a reversal of what happened in the “No” route. If that were to happen, Jack could converse with other people directly… and perhaps convince them to leave MC to him.

If they just won’t go away, well… Jack could always push their buttons, upset them to the point that they have violent urges, only these feelings would be directed at him.

While MC is there to see that person unleash their bloody rage on Jack, of course.

As we’ve seen in earlier concept art, Jack didn’t feel pain when being stabbed, and perhaps that might still be true. But MC doesn’t need to know that when Jack says he’s okay and that it doesn’t hurt, it really doesn’t. All they see is Ian, Shaun, Nick, or whoever else suddenly snapping and attacking Jack with a knife for no apparent reason at all, leaving him bloody and wounded in front of them, trying to act brave for their sake like he did in the “no” route.

Jack doesn’t want MC to be unhappy, but perhaps he might get to enjoy a guilty thrill if they got upset for his sake, especially if he could feel them being so protective over him. Their worry for his injuries and outrage that he was attacked… You could say that it’s another way for his sunshine to show him just how much they love him. It might even make him feel a bit more secure, more real.

Jack could even prep his target beforehand via possession, tormenting that person until they’re close to snapping. In the now gone trailer, Shaun sounds unhinged, saying what he’s doing is so wrong… Shaun sounds like someone pushed to do things he never thought himself capable of doing, and likely it was Jack who did the pushing.

All Jack has to do is pull the trigger at the right moment, when MC is there to see their other friend snap. He could use a phrase or gesture that seems so innocent as a means to torment them until they can no longer help themselves when they hear it. He could’ve urged them to carry a knife with them at all times.

Hell, Jack could’ve outright possessed their arm with his powers, unseen by everyone, to make his target stab him in front of MC.

So, as far as MC is aware, Jack being his typical friendly self, when all of a sudden their other friend loses their mind and stabs Jack, likely while shouting something unhinged. It paints a vivid bloody picture of their friend as the antagonist, and Jack as the innocent victim.

Even if the rival snaps out of it right afterward, horrified at what they had done, if Jack covered his tracks well enough, their protests would be empty. It’d just look like empty excuses.

Or perhaps they hate Jack, really hate him, but they have no solid evidence why Jack is a bad person. They could wind up digging the hole even deeper if they doubled down on their act of violence.

It would be really hard to claim that Jack is the dangerous entity when they were the one who suddenly stabbed Jack without apparent provocation after all. It’d just make them look even more unstable and dangerous.

Sure, it’d be an awful thing for MC to see, but at least they’re not the one that got attacked. Jack bravely made sure that he was the only one whose blood was spilled. He might not even really feel pain like they would if he can handle being stabbed, rotted, and bleeding and keep going, as some teasers and concept art have shown.

Personally I think Jack can feel pain, but it’s nothing compared to the 40 years of hell, or the fear of losing his sunshine.

A little pain is worth it to keep his sunshine. Forever.

The idea of losing Jack bloodlessly and painlessly is scary enough for MC. Seeing someone attack him, maybe even outright trying to kill him would be far, far worse. MC was so desperate to keep Jack from disappearing, so it wouldn’t be a stretch to expect that they would rush to his defense to save his life.

This is especially true if their feelings for Jack are so strong that he’s able to physically manifest now.

The moment would be a scarring memory for MC, but sometimes lessons can be harsh when we learn them. MC would at least know how inferior their other friends are compared to Jack, how harmful and dangerous they are. Those people don’t deserve to be in MC’s life, and it’s in their best interests to never see those people again.

Jack would also get to enjoy the perverse pleasure of knowing just how much MC cares about them, how much they love him. They could even nurse him back to health after they chase away that inferior friend for good. He can be pampered, appreciated, and loved. MC will better understand just how important Jack is to them, how much they need him, and how terrible the person who tried to take them away truly is.

Really, it goes to show that MC should listen to Jack more when he says he’s not so sure about them spending time with a particular person, don’t you think?

Of course, how well this ploy goes depends on MC’s compassion. Given what we’ve seen so far of the story, MC does care about Jack, and most people will at least be upset and alarmed that someone was stabbed in front of them. An MC that has strong feelings for Jack and deeply loves him will no doubt be enraged.

This sort of messed up scenario reminded me of how the Bad End AU went so horribly wrong, only Shaun and Ian knew to target the tape there, rather than Jack directly. Alice was hesitant to do more than plead for the three to stop, not wanting any of them to be hurt, and the result was the tape getting destroyed and Jack banished.

The altercation between them was vague, but what if we went down another dark path? What if Jack pushed Ian and Shaun, but they never found out about the tape, and they focused on Jack himself despite his imposing size.

Once I made that comparison between this idea and the Bad End AU, I got inspired to write a quick first draft flash fic about a timeline where Jack gives in to his darker impulses.

The story of Sunshine in Hell is one of broken people helping each other heal and become better versions of themselves.

The Bad End AU is what happens when the wrong choices are made and things only get so much worse.

By the way, for those wondering, a third part of the Bad End AU is in the works. This isn’t it, but more like a different option taken during a critical moment that resulted in blood being spilled instead of bits of plastic and torn VHS tape ribbon.

 From wholesome to unhinged, my posts truly run the gambit of different sides to Sunny Day Jack. I hope you enjoy this little snippet of Jack getting worse instead of better, and taking perverse glee in bringing Alice along with him down a twisted path.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

…

Jack hated to see his sunshine upset. He ached for Alice every time she was in pain. There was nothing he wanted more than to see her smile, to bask in her warm, happy glow.

The last thing Jack wanted was to be the reason Alice was upset, and yet…

Somehow things had grown twisted. Jack crossed lines he knew that he shouldn’t, but somehow he always found ways to justify it. Somehow his fears of losing Alice were always stronger than the little voice in his head telling him that what he was doing wasn’t right.

Sadly, not everything in life could be solved with polite words and a smile.

Things had grown twisted until they spiraled out of control. Ian and Shaun dared to invade their home, their sanctuary. They wanted to take Alice away from him, to “save” her from his “wicked clutches” like Jack was just some cartoon bad guy.

All the things the two said about him were ridiculous, exaggerations! Jack feigned ignorance of their accusations, his confused act flawless. There was no reason for them to be afraid of him. He was just an innocent clown, someone who lived to take care of others, particularly his precious sunshine Alice.

Alice believed Jack had nothing to do with their accusations, but she didn’t chase them away. She listened, worried for them despite her faith in him. It warmed his heart that she believed in him, but the fact that she still listened meant that there was room for doubt to worm its way in.

Ian and Shaun could see that too.

“This… thing is dangerous, Alice,” Shaun said with a tremor in his voice. His eyes couldn’t remain still, bouncing between pleading with Alice and watching for when Jack pounced on them like a venomous cobra. “You need to get away from it right now.”

“You have to believe us!” Ian insisted, his voice cracking desperately. He kept one hand in his pocket, his shaking hand clutching his only form of defense tight. Would it even work on a ghost or whatever Jack was?

Could Jack even bleed?

Jack stood between the invaders and his sunshine. They had tried to take her with him, but he snatched up Alice before they could steal her away and tucked her safely behind his back. He kept one hand on her arm, his hold on her deceptively light, but as unshakable as iron. His expression was innocence itself, showing nothing but a mask of confused concern directed at the two terrified men before him. “Take it easy now. There’s no danger here. Let’s all take a deep breath and try to calm down.”

“Don’t give me that nice guy shit!” Shaun snapped as he glared daggers into Jack. His soothing words were grating in his ears, putting him even more on edge. “You’re more fake than a corporate account with a rainbow logo during pride!” His gaze switched back to Alice. “Alice, please, listen to us. This thing has been torturing us for months now.”

Alice felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. The way Shaun looked at her made her heart go out to him, but… how could it be true. “Torture-”

“Hey now, that’s a strong word to use there,” Jack said. His voice took on a more firm tone to it, but nothing more threatening than the gentle chastising he gave children on his show. “What makes you think I would hurt either of you?”

“Cut the bullshit!” Shaun snarled. “You know damn well you’ve been giving us nightmares for months now!”

“I gave you nightmares?” Jack asked. The confusion on his face was so convincing that Shaun and Ian might have questioned themselves if not for the countless sleepless nights filled with torment. “How could I do that?”

“With some sort of supernatural ghost zombie demon bullshit, I don’t know!” Shaun snapped.

“Alice, you can’t trust him,” Ian said, tightening his grip inside his pocket. Dark circles ringed his shaking eyes as he kept looking from Jack to the hand the creature had on Alice. “Why can’t you see that?”

How was Alice able to stand so close to that monster? Why was she standing behind it as if it would protect her? How could she not see that it was holding her hostage? How could she stand that thing’s cold, lifeless touch? Seeing its hand on her made Ian relieve those countless nights spent lost in a place that felt too real to be a dream, but too horrible to be reality.

The Jack before them now wasn’t exactly the same as the rotted, bloody corpse that haunted them night after night. That thing with mocking smiles that were too wide and wild, and strange eyes that had nothing behind them. This wasn’t the kind and caring boyfriend Alice talked about. This thing was a monster that only knew how to take and take and take. Its touch stole something from Ian every time it laid its hands on him, and left behind a coldness that went far beyond cold. It stole the very warmth from him until it was as if it never existed. It stripped Ian of his senses one at a time until there was nothing but its absence hissing at him like static.

And that voice. That voice mocked him even when the world went so silent that Ian couldn’t even hear his own screams. That thing was trying to sound compassionate now, but that was a lie. It twisted the truth until it was unrecognizable, but so believable. It sounded so calm and kind at the start of every nightmare, even as it told Ian so many, many terrible things, tore open old wounds and exposed all his flaws.

Ian was a sinner damned for hell. He didn’t deserve to be anywhere near someone as kind and gentle as Alice. That thing made it all too clear to him.

The thing countered his protests, even laughed, because they were so feeble. Ian was so selfish, so worthless.

That voice would then mock him, so superior, so much better than Ian in every way. He would never forget the sound of that voice, or that smile.

The smile Jack offered him now was supposed to be an encouraging one, but Ian knew that it was fake. He knew what the hand held before him in a placating gesture was a ruse to get just a little closer.

If Jack touched either of them it was all over. Now that they exposed the truth about it to Alice…

Who knew what it would take from Ian if it got its hands on him again?

“Let’s all calm down now,” Jack said soothingly. “Come on, take a deep breath with me.” He gestured to his chest as he inhaled, which only served to remind Ian and Shaun of just how much bigger he was than all of them.

Ian jerked at Jack’s sudden movement, his breath hitching as that gloved hand drifted close to him.

“There now,” Jack said encouragingly. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The words struck harder than any blow.

There now. That wasn’t so hard, was it?

It was such an innocent phrase, something that would have been encouraging if Shaun and Ian hadn’t heard it in countless nightmares, spoken in mocking tones or breathless whispers, with fake reassurance or a true perverse glee. The monster praised them when they ran from the illusion of Alice, when they admitted that they were flawed and worthless, when they surrendered to his taunts…

When they accepted the knife it pressed into their hands to carve a smile in their throats to match its own.

Shaun flinched back while Ian tensed, his eyes wide and wild as Jack slowly reached out for him with an open palm and a smile. It was such a deceptively innocent gesture…

Instinct took over. A flash of silver and a cry broke the air as Ian used the knife he had hidden away in his pocket all this time to take back what Jack had stolen away from him.

Time slowed down as blood sprayed from the gouge carved from Jack’s hand to his forearm. He cried out in pain as he reeled back, then collapsed to the floor.

Shaun froze at the attack, staring at the bloody knife and wound it left behind in shock. It was as if he was watching a scene from one of his movies unfold before him, not real in the slightest, even though some of the blood splattered onto his face and clothes.

Ian held the knife in both hands tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. The blade shook in his too tight grip, then the rest of him soon followed as it sunk in what he had just done.

This was just another dream… right? Ian didn’t mean to hurt anyone, he just couldn’t let Jack touch him, not again. Not in reality. Not when he couldn’t wake up. He couldn’t let Jack take everything from him.

Ian couldn’t let Jack hurt him again.

Everything had happened so fast. Alice didn’t know what to make of it when Ian and Shaun practically forced their way into her apartment, throwing out wild accusations. They were jittery and on edge, hurling out vitriol towards Jack and pleas to her before she could sort out the accusations they made. They grabbed at her without warning, yanking hard while their fingers dug into her arms hard enough to bruise. It was only thanks to Jack acting quickly to separate them that she hadn’t been dragged outside.

They scared her. Alice worried for them, but their actions weren’t normal. The look in their eyes was terrifying. Ian and Shaun had been acting cagey for weeks now, avoiding her and not responding to her texts. She never saw this coming.

Jack reassured her with his gentle touch and soothing words. Alice could see that he was alarmed by their behavior as well, but he did his best to keep calm, to protect her when her friends were acting so strangely.

There was no way Jack was this monster they described. He was the kindest, gentlest soul Alice had ever known. He chased away her nightmares, comforted her when she needed it, and was there for her when she was left all alone.

Jack loved her more than anyone else in the world.

Alice barely had time to wonder about their claims when Ian struck without warning. When Jack screamed, her blood turned to ice. Red filled her vision.

There was so much blood.

“Jack!”

Alice moved before she could really register what was happening, her scream sounding far away as her heartbeat pounded hard in her ears. She threw herself between Jack and his attacker, falling to her knees as used her body as a shield. She clung to him, her best friend, her beloved, heedless of the blood soaking into her clothes, then turned her gaze to the monster that had dared to hurt the one she loved.

The ice in that gaze froze Ian, and the knife fell from his limp fingers. Suddenly he was all too aware of what he had done, the blood on his hands. He stared at them, at the sin he had committed, shaking and red, until he collapsed into a pool of tears.

“How could you?” Alice hissed, forcing the words out through her constricted throat. “How could you!?”

The world started to move again. Ian tried to say something, perhaps some form of protest or apology, but the words were half-formed and drowned in his tears. Shaun stared between the bloodstained knife and Jack, who lay curled against Alice, quietly whimpering while bleeding all over the carpet.

Shaun couldn’t reconcile the scene before him of the wounded man, weak and in pain, against the monster from his dreams that smiled through any attack he made. No matter how many times he stabbed Jack in the dream, the undead creature would just mock him, unfazed even as its blood was spilled.

Was this really the same monster that haunted them for months?

It was this dissonance that made Ian truly aware of the sin he had committed. He couldn’t handle it. He fled.

“Get out!” Alice snapped, bringing Shaun’s attention back from her and away from the fleeing Ian. “Get the fuck out of here!”

Shaun staggered a step back. “A-Alice, I-”

“Get the fuck out!” Alice shrieked. “I never want to see either of you ever again! If you ever come near me or Jack again, I’ll fucking shoot you!”

Shaun took a few more steps, his eyes trailing down to the blood that had been spilled. It still didn’t look real to him, but Alice’s screams were real. The hatred she had in her eyes directed entirely at him was real. It was far more real than any of his nightmares.

It was too much for Shaun, and he too left behind the scene of this macabre show he had taken part in.

Ahhh…

Jack had to use every ounce of his willpower to suppress his smile and keep his true feelings hidden from his sunshine. The pleasure he felt in that moment was exquisite, a shiver of euphoria that was so sinfully delicious it was practically erotic. Fear, shock, and anger burst through him like fireworks, but undercutting all of those feelings was the love Alice had for him. Those feelings of her burned fierce and bright, chasing away all the cold in the world. Even her hatred, directed at someone else, was beautiful, because it was for his sake.

How could Jack not feel pleasure when Alice’s love for him overflowed until it flooded his heart in a torrent of passion?

All that fear, worry, and rage was in defense of him. Only him. Only Jack had her love now. Whatever care Alice felt for Shaun and Ian was dead, its throat slit with a single slice of a knife.

It made all the nights spent away from his sunshine while she slept worth it. All those months of training those two obstacles had paid off beautifully. Jack finally exposed the true nature of those inferior other “friends” of hers. He knew that with just a little encouragement, they would finally show his precious sunshine just how worthless and filthy they truly were.

With them gone, her anger cooled, but didn’t disappear completely. It still burned inside of Alice, fierce and ready to protect him again at a moment’s notice. Her thoughts were all for him now, only him. She fussed over his wound, letting out concerned whimpers as she cradled him close while using her own clothes to staunch the blood flow.

Jack hated to see his sunshine so upset. He wanted to reassure her that he was fine, but he had to be careful about it. The episode he had written for them wasn’t quite finished yet.

“It… it’s okay… sunshine,” Jack said between heavy pants. He wore a weak smile that held none of his true happiness in it. “I-it doesn’t hurt.”

It was a lie, and they both knew it, but the pain didn’t matter to Jack. No pain compared to the thought of losing Alice. This little scratch was nothing compared to what he gained in return.

The love Jack felt from her, the pleasure that love gave him was so much better. It was a drug that left him feeling weak and dizzy, almost overwhelmed by the euphoria to the point he became partially erect. Alice’s love for him was so fierce that it was practically all that he could feel. Compared to that, the gouge in his arm was little more than a paper cut.

Those warm hands of hers touched him so delicately. Alice fussed over him, cried over him, her heart breaking for him. It was all for him, only for him. He was her world, and he reveled in it. She was the sun that would shine her light for no one else but him now.

Jack never wanted anything to make his sunshine unhappy, but how could he not enjoy himself? How could he not find pleasure even in the darker moments of anger and sadness that overtook her when it was for his sake? The way she screamed his name, the way she held him so close, the fierce way she defended him, worried for him… how could he not adore every second of it?

There was no stronger proof of the love Alice felt for Jack than this.

[kaiser1ns]

KIKI'S CHARACTER ANALYSIS ON TAKIISHI CHIKA

BEFORE PROCEEDING TO READ i want to clarify that this is my opinion and my take on his character before we get to know more about him in the manga. i know that the way i write about him is not what he really is, and that can cause conflicts but i am trying my best! contains small spoilers ahead! anyway hope you will enjoy!

Written on August 9th 2024. Posted on August 10th 2024. Edited on

Takiishi Chika is expressive only when he wants to be, but most of the time he is with that bored expression making it look like he is some kind of robot or haunted doll. As already known his face changes when he feels anger or when he fights with someone at his level or higher, it's when he gets happy and excited, because there is someone who will not bore him and keep up with the adrenaline.

He will not listen to anyone in whom he finds no interest. People can talk to him, but he will pay no attention to them. He will listen, catch a sentence here and there, and when someone mentions something that intrudes on him, he will listen without hesitation wanting to know more.

Strikes me as a type who is also very observant. Not only in a fight but when around people in a calm setting. Also intelligent, may not show it because he acts on impulse but everything is calculated.

Likes to light up fireworks when there's nothing better to do or people to fight. It's nice and something he can do on his own.

He likes to sit on the rooftop of buildings and look down on everything and everyone, either enjoying the view or the feeling of power. We again don't know why. But in Chapter 134: The Moment Longed For, when Endo Yamato receives a punch to his face because he stopped Chika's sudden charge at Umeniya, the conversation goes as such "But hey, Umemiya told us to go to the roof with him. It's been ages since we have been there. You like the roof don't you?" and then Chika freezes agreeing with what Edno said "Right. That's true." Then he walks past Umemiya telling him to go there, leaving everyone behind.

The question here is why Chika likes roofs so much, and what exactly does Furin's rooftop that Umemiya wants to show him? My mind directly goes to the garden. Is it to see one's growth despite its roots? What if Chika used to take care of the garden too? I know, it's a laughable idea and seems impossible but what if? So many questions, but not many answers. This is normal, seeing as how their battle is just beginning and the characters' internal and external conflicts are yet to emerge.

As stated, he is violent and short-tempered, he would never let anyone or anything block him from doing what he wants, it doesn't matter if it was a friend or an enemy. He is capable of destroying everything in his path. But personally, I think he won't hit someone if there's no reason to or if he isn't provoked in some way.

He doesn't care about the others, he only cares for himself and his enjoyment.

Of course, he knows many people and many people know him. But he isn't close with anyone besides Endo Yamato, even if they are childhood friends and their friendship is weird, Chika just lets Endo do whatever he wants — buy him clothes, paint his nails, find him opponents. He probably never asked for him to do such things but Chika knows how devoted the tattooed fool is to him, and so he played along. That leads me to a theory that he was spoiled as a child, that's why he doesn't question Endo, because he is used to getting what he wants and if something goes in his way, he will eliminate it.

Endo stated that Takiishi "began to fizzle out when he left Furin" meaning he was slowly losing his spark and maybe fighting out of boredom and not excitement. Chika is "The Strongest Man in Furin History". Probably in his first year, there wasn't anyone worthy enough to keep up with his pace and cause that fervor to ignite his flames.

Two years later when he dropped out of Furin Highschool he became a shadow and it was a few in the school who knew the truth about him, including Umemiya, the person Chika probably wanted to fight from the start.

In Chapter 142: Revelation, we see Takiishi in Endo's memories, and he has always been so aggressive towards the world, but unfortunately, we still don't know the reason why — perhaps a family conflict that indicates him being abused as a child; himself being bullied and then turning into a bully, or he was a prodigy too doing everything before other kids his age making him develop faster and he took advantage of that. So many theories. Hope we know in the future! [this part will be edited once his backstory is out]

God complex which may also be associated with mania or a superiority complex. Someone with a god complex may exhibit no regard for the conventions and demands of society and may request special consideration or privileges. GD is linked to Narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) with a diminished ability to empathize with other people's feelings. Even tho we don't see Takiishi being 'in love' with himself, he only cares about himself, and thus I will say he is probably narcissistic but not to such an extent.

But here I think the right word which should be used is Egoist — a self-centered, selfish person or arrogantly conceited person. Egoism comes in different forms as there are several reasons as to why someone may act in their own self-interest, such as ethics or rationality. The three main types of egoism are physical egoism, ethical egoism and rational egoism.

1. Physical Egoism

This type of egoism refers to the basic, instinctual drive for self-preservation and personal survival. It is often associated with natural instincts and physical needs, such as hunger, thirst, and the avoidance of pain. Physical egoism emphasizes the inherent tendency of living beings to prioritize their own physical well-being and survival above all else. In this view, self-interest is rooted in biological imperatives.

2. Ethical Egoism

Ethical egoism is a normative theory that suggests some individuals act in their own self-interest. It is a prescriptive approach, meaning it provides guidance on how people should behave. Ethical egoism posits that morally right actions are those that maximize one's own welfare. Unlike physical egoism, which is based on natural instincts, ethical egoism is a philosophical stance arguing that self-interest should be the guiding principle of moral decision-making.

3. Rational Egoism

Rational egoism posits that it is rational for individuals to act in their own self-interest because doing so leads to the best outcomes for themselves. This form of egoism is based on the idea that reason, rather than mere instinct or moral obligation, should guide self-interested behavior. Rational egoism suggests that acting in one's own long-term interest is not only logical but also the most reasonable course of action for achieving happiness and success. It often involves considering the consequences of actions and making choices that best serve one's goals in a rational, calculated manner.

In conclusion:

Takiishi Chika is impulsive, violent, and primarily concerned with his own physical needs and desires, aligning most closely with physical egoism. He doesn't seem to consider the long-term consequences of his actions, nor does he follow a moral code that dictates acting in his self-interest in a socially constructive way, which would be characteristic of ethical or rational egoism.

The behavior could be indicative of several potential mental health conditions or personality disorders, but it's important to note that diagnosing someone, especially when a real person requires a qualified mental health professional. However, I am not a professional and I am doing this only for my entertainment in the fictional world. There are a few possibilities that might align with the characteristics of Takiishi Chika.

1. Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD):

Individuals with ASPD often exhibit a disregard for the rights of others, lack of empathy, and can be prone to aggressive, violent behavior. They may engage in fights, show little concern for the safety or feelings of others, and may be manipulative or deceitful.

2. Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD):

While not always violent, people with BPD may experience intense emotional reactions, including anger and aggression. They can also have a pattern of unstable relationships, self-harming behaviors, and fear of abandonment, which might be linked to masochistic tendencies.

3. Intermittent Explosive Disorder (IED):

This disorder is characterized by sudden, explosive outbursts of anger or violence that are disproportionate to the situation. The person might feel a sense of relief after the outburst but may also feel remorse or regret later.

4. Sadistic Personality Disorder:

Although not recognized in the DSM-5, some traits could align with what was previously considered Sadistic Personality Disorder. This involves deriving pleasure from the suffering of others, which could explain sadistic tendencies.

Chika's behaviour is explosive or volatile sadism. This type of sadism is characterized by sudden outbursts of aggression and violence, often triggered by frustration or when the person feels someone is in their way. Individuals with this type of sadism tend to lack empathy, and their violent behavior can be unpredictable and intense.

In addition, his potential sadomasochistic tendencies suggest he might derive some pleasure from both inflicting pain on others (sadism) and experiencing pain themselves (masochism). This combination can make his behavior particularly volatile, as he may be drawn to situations that allows him to express both these desires.

5. Conduct Disorder (in younger individuals):

If the individual is younger, this could be a sign of Conduct Disorder, characterized by aggressive behavior, a lack of empathy, and a disregard for rules or the rights of others. This condition in youth can sometimes progress to Antisocial Personality Disorder in adulthood.

6. Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD):

While not typically associated with overt physical violence, individuals with NPD can display aggression when their ego is threatened. They may lack empathy and be manipulative or exploitative in relationships, only caring about others when it benefits them.

7. Psychopathy:

A more severe form of ASPD, psychopathy involves a profound lack of empathy, superficial charm, and often a tendency toward manipulative and violent behavior. Sadistic tendencies may also be present.

8. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD):

Individuals with PTSD may experience anger as a response to trauma reminders or as part of the hyperarousal symptoms. Irritability and angry outbursts. Feeling constantly on edge or easily startled.

PTSD develops after exposure to a traumatic event, and anger can be a coping mechanism or reaction to perceived threats.

9. Trauma and Childhood Experiences:

Anger issues can also stem from unresolved trauma, especially if it occurred during childhood. People who have experienced abuse, neglect, or abandonment may develop anger as a defense mechanism. Difficulty trusting others, leading to anger in relationships. Feeling easily threatened or provoked. Chronic irritability or anger without a clear cause.

This is all I can think of when I did my research. Chika definitely has something traumatic happened to him or he was someone's trauma.

But there can be a scenario with him just being born like that even if love and kindness were shown to him. We will know more once Satoru Nii drops his full backstory like he did with Endo and Umemiya.

TAKIISHI CHIKA'S CHARACTER IN MY WRITING STYLE

I don't want to make him too out of character for the sake of the people who like or will like him, as I want them to have the best experience while reading any of my works that includes him.

In many of my drabbles readers will get to see him being more soft towards the female character or his girlfriend as stated in the most scenarios. He is being vulnerable towards you. It is simply the way I imagine him when he gets to like someone who catches his attention: he wants to know everything, is being possessive, is more expressive, making space in his heart only for you, though his ego and pride would no go down but instead they will go up because he has something the others don't.

As I stated earlier, he will not listen or look at anyone in whom he finds no interest. That being said, and as a cliché as it sounds, you are different, he wants to have you to either a) play with you until you break or b) learn about the way you are making him feel, because his heartbeat only rises when he fights.

When Takiishi Chika learns to love, or at least tries, he realizes that he can tolerate people who get in his way, meaning he tolerates you and is extremely important for him to see you everyday. And if his nonchalant behaviour is due to a trauma, you are his free therapy.

I saw people who think he doesn't talk much, again he does, he chose to who, how and when. Even if it's one word, sentence or a punch, he will talk.

In my opinion the way he loves is unique, everyone has their own way to express their longing for the other. He doesn't know what love is, its a new term in his vocabulary, and you teach him the ways of being soft and tender.

He is protective of you, very fond by the way you show him how to do things and he acts on instinct. If he wants a kiss, he will get one no matter what. If he wants get intimate or just to initiate a physical touch, he without thinking twice would. Takiishi Chika is not a person who waits, unless necessary, because when he wants something he will make sure to have it. If he wants you he will get you. He is the living prime of "If he wanted, he would."

But then again he has another dark, manipulative and toxic side. Again he is not good or used to expressing his emotions that well, if he wanted to hurt you, unintentionally or not, he would. I know I'm repeating myself a lot with words, but it's true. Was it with a real or non-existent person, if they wanted to, they would do anything to or for you.

This is mostly what I have to say about him, in hopes of your understanding and if you got to the end of this long post, thank you! Takiishi Chika is not that complex of a character, he is pretty easy to understand in my opinion, as long you want to do it.

But it's my profile, my own way to express myself amd how i view a certain character. I would be happy if someone wants to discuss further issues with our blazing inferno Chika <3

And as the manga will continue and more will be understood, I will give it my best to describe and write not only about Chika, but also about all the other characters. I hope this was a hopeful guide to answer questions if you even had one.

Thank you Chika nation for the support, and thank you for reading and following through my writing journey! More is yet to come (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

[twilightprince101]

I see a lot of AU's for In Stars and Time revolving around the idea of "what if X character was looping instead of Siffrin" and they are all wonderful. I adore the sight of seeing how exactly they slowly but surely break down over the course of months, maybe even years of repeating the same day and seeing how they contextualize the game's events from their perspective.

But there's one piece of all of these AU's that I wish was included a bit more: their feelings at the very, very start in regards to communication with others.

When Siffrin is told that he can tell his party about the time loop at any time, he immediately dismisses the idea because that is who he is as a person. Extremely caring for others, barely caring for himself. This is arguably the catalyst for the entire story (yes, even compared to WHY the loops started at all).

But how exactly do the other characters deal with that information around the start? How do they initially start the timeloop when told "there's nothing stopping you from asking for help?"

For example: Mirabelle. She already has a LOT on her plate since she's struggling with being "The Chosen." But I feel that being put in the time loop like this would actually be a relief for her. She is quite literally chosen by some sort of deity to try as many times as she wants. She's thankful because she really was chosen by the Change God (hahaha). So maybe at the start she would be more confident, talk with everyone and explain the full situation at the clock tower. "Yes, we did die against the King, but everything is back to how it was. If we work harder, we can make it!" But she would do that, every single time. The same conversation. And she's too wrapped up in that routine that she just focuses on reassuring everyone that things will be okay and saying the exact same words. Mirabelle's catalyst is similar to Siffrin's in that they both care for their friends, but while Siffrin helps fix everyone's problems, Mirabelle helps comfort everyone emotionally and doesn't focus on herself.

Then there's Odile. I feel she would treat the matter objectively, almost like a standard time loop protagonist. The first thing she does is tell everyone about it, finding some way to prove it ("Bonnie got X ingredients, Isabeau never made a wish at the favor tree, etc."). But after a certain point, going through all of those extra steps becomes draining. So she instead focuses on saying the right words which will get everyone else to do certain actions. "If I ask what fruits Boniface is bringing tomorrow then they'll keep that in the front of their mind, which will cause them to eat the pineapple early, eliminating the risk that Siffrin will die of their allergy." But throughout it all, she never factors her own feelings as to why the time loops are happening. That is Odile's catalyst: she is too logical and doesn't acknowledge feelings as part of the equation.

Perhaps later on in the timeloop they would do different things entirely, stop talking to others all together. But this is specifically about everyone's catalyst at the very start, their own version of "Why would you need help? You're in the position to help everyone here." It would likely take longer to happen than Siffrin's, the emotionally repressed gremlin, but the end result would still be the same. It's about self-isolation after all.

I just think it's a fun thing to think about.

[guess-that-ship]

Guess That Ship Tournament Season 13: Badly Describe Your Ship! Submissions CLOSED

The Concept: You "badly" describe your ship* to me, I pick out the submissions which I find most funny and compelling and pit them against each other without revealing who they are, people vote on them, and their identities gets revealed once they’re eliminated.

Submission Guidelines

*For the purpose of this tournament, relationships do not have to be romantic in nature. (I’m sometimes going to use “ship” as a shorthand, just know I mean “relationships” in general.)

Relationship can be between any number of characters.

Real people are accepted if they’ve been dead for more than 100 years.

Roleplay characters are accepted as long as the description only pertains to the characters and not the players.

Crossover ships are only allowed if the crossover is official.

OCs are accepted. (However, OC x Canon is not accepted. Please do not submit other people's OCs without their permission.)

No overtly NSFW submissions. (Mentioning they have sex or are a sex worker is fine, but try to avoid anything more than that.)

Two submissions per person. (Do not submit the same ship twice. I cannot enforce this on Google Forms without forcing you to log in. So just be champs and respect this rule.)

Failure to follow these guidelines may result in all of your submissions being disqualified for this season.

Summary Guidelines

Selection Process: I will read through the list of descriptions submitted without reading their names and pick the most funny and compelling submissions. Then, I will check the name to make sure there's no repeats.

Bring something unique to the table. Make sure to describe their relationship, not just summarize the events of the story.

The description of a badly-described ship is ideally one or two sentences long. Descriptions should not exceed 100 words.

Descriptions should be based on canon, not headcanon. (e.g. You can say “they love each other” instead of “they’re lovers” if their romantic nature is debatable.)

Avoid author commentary. (e.g. "They're canonically x," "I love them," "Play/watch/read this," etc.)

Use canonical pronouns.

Avoid identifying information or setting specific giveaways. (i.e. ninja village, space necromancers.)

When submitting OCs, please make sure to at least put a name somewhere. (e.g. "John and Bob by anonymous" or "OCs by Joey.")

The more popular your ship is the more vague the description should be.

I will be more lenient with submissions this season, given "badly" is subjective, but you should still keep these guidelines in mind when writing your summary.

Exclusions

Ships that were accepted in Season 7 onwards and ships that at least reached the semifinals in Season 1-6 are not allowed. For a complete list, please look here. (No need to look through the whole list, just Ctrl+F to find the ship you want.)

Any submissions from Harry Potter will also not be included.

Notes

I will not vet the ships/pairings for problematic content.

If you participate in this tournament, know that you run the risk of unintentionally voting for your nOTP. The mod does not take any responsibility for any distress that may cause you.

There will be a limit of one ship per media in the bracket. You may submit two ships from the same media, but keep in mind only one ship will be able to get in. (A series or franchise will generally count as one media, but they will be evaluated on a case by case basis.)

Submit your ships here! Submissions will be open until Sunday, October 6th at 9 PM EDT.

Please reblog this post to spread the word! The more submissions, the better!

[soulessjourney]

You're Alive

Paring: Spawn!Astarion x fem!DurgeReader

Word count: 3.6k

Summary: As the urge begins to consume Tav, she finds herself reliving some of her most brutal killings, with Astarion forced into a struggle to keep her from succumbing completely.

Warnings: Violence, Language, Near character death, Talk of killing, Tav has to fight herself in a mental essance, Duel POV

Your life had finally found peace. No longer did you feel the urge to tear apart everyone you encountered. But why did today feel so different? Something gnawed at the back of your mind, begging for release. You bit down on your tongue, attempting to push back the sharp claws sinking into your consciousness, returning to reality after tasting the metallic tang of blood in your mouth. Blinking, you surveyed the camp, your vision blurred as your head throbbed. Your companions lay sound asleep in their tents, your lover peacefully slumbering beside you in your shared shelter. With a groan, you collapsed to the ground, darkness encroaching on your vision.

You flinched as someone nudged you, the touch lacking the gentleness of your usual companions rousing you after a blackout. Rolling onto your back, you locked eyes with another figure—yourself. A wicked smile stretched across her face as she peered down at you. "Wake up, little bird," she said, your own voice sending shivers down your spine as you struggled to dispel the image before you. Surely, it was a cruel dream, or perhaps a twisted jest concocted by Gale. The figure above you clicked her tongue and brushed your hair aside. "Come now, don't appear so bewildered. You know exactly who I am," she whispered.

Jerking away from her touch, you scrambled to your feet, putting distance between you and the apparition. "I don't know who you are, and whatever sick joke you think you're playing, stop it," you snapped. Deep down, however, you recognized the person standing before you—your past self, fighting to seize control of your body.

She chuckled, closing the gap between you with measured steps. "Well, little bird, I am you. I am the grin that spreads when blood stains your skin. I am the reverie you indulge in, envisioning the demise of every soul you encounter. My dear, I am the pulse quickening with anticipation at the thought of wrapping your hands around your lover's throat," she murmured, her final words a whispered caress against your ear.

You shook your head, her words leaving you stunned. The shock wasn't born of confusion; it was the recognition of truth. "I'm not like you. I'm not as evil as you are. I'm good, I'm improving, and I'm leaving you behind," you declared, your voice tinged with desperation. You realized you weren't trying to convince her; you were attempting to convince yourself that you had outgrown the bloodthirsty killer you once were.

She laughed, the sound echoing through the camp, yet miraculously failing to disturb the slumbering figures. "How do you define good and evil?" she challenged, her gaze raking over you as she circled. "You eliminate those who obstruct your path. Many would argue that's evil, even if you consider it good," she murmured, trailing a finger down your cheek. As you looked at her, you recognized the mirror image of yourself—the same nose, jawline, and attire. The only disparities were in her eyes, hard and lifeless compared to your soft, hopeful gaze. Her eye color, resembling pools of thick, dark blood, put Astarion's red orbs to shame. While your hair was a gentle brown, hers was jet black, streaked with blood-red strands. She was your antithesis, craving violence and pain while you exuded gentleness and love.

"I'm good because I don't slaughter innocents like you do. I don't yearn to feel blood on my skin—not like you. I'm nothing like you, and I never will be," you growled, your eyes hardening as you resisted the urge to recoil from her touch by biting the inside of your cheek.

"Ah, indeed, you're correct. You're the white swan—delicate and gentle—while I'm the despised black swan, vying for dominance and power," she remarked, running her fingers through your hair before gripping it tightly, pulling your head back with a force that threatened to snap your neck. "Why do you hide from me, little bird? Do you blame yourself?" she whispered, her blood-red eyes locking with yours.

Confusion twisted your expression as you looked up at her, feeling your heart race at her question. "What?" you whispered, focusing your gaze on hers.

She released your hair and grasped your face, running her thumbs across your cheeks in a manner that felt condescending. "Well, little bird, it's quite common in this situation to feel a kind of... guilt," she hummed. A twist formed in your stomach as she loomed over you, her gaze igniting a new type of fear within you.

Backing away, you felt sweat gathering in your palms as you listened intently. "What situation?" This was the aspect you struggled with the most—being unable to recall anything about your past, what you had done to others. The only reminders were fleeting flashes of memory when you stood over a lifeless body or closed your eyes.

Her smile dissolved into a mocking frown as she clicked her tongue. "The accident, silly." With that, it felt as though your body was hurtling backward, and your vision faded to black, the last image imprinting on your mind being her wide grin and the murderous delight gleaming in her eyes.

--- Astarion ---

Astarion stirred in the tent, waiting for you to join him. You had been engrossed in a book found during your exploration of the shadowlands. As time passed, a sense of unease began to simmer within him, a blend of worry and fear. Opening the tent flap, he peered out, scanning the camp for any sign of you. Just before retreating into the tent, he spotted you on the ground near the fire, your muscles spasming beneath your skin. Without knowing how he reached you, he found himself kneeling beside you, gently shaking you in an attempt to rouse you. "Tav, wake up," he whispered, nudging you again.

He was on the verge of calling for help when your eyes snapped open, your hand shooting up to grip his throat. Falling backward onto the ground, he gazed up at you, the grip tightening around his throat. Your eyes held no emotion, devoid of life. For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw flashes of blood-red eyes, uncertain if it was his imagination or if the person before him wasn't you. Watching as you reached for the knife strapped to your thigh—a gift he had given you after his confession while you lay nestled among the pillows—he sensed something was amiss. This wasn't you.

Placing his foot on your stomach, he pushed you away, sending you stumbling to the ground. The way you rolled across the ground almost made him mistake you for a ragdoll. Astarion quickly rose to his feet, his gaze fixed on you as you lunged toward him. Tackling you to the ground, he pinned you against the earth. "Tav, stop. This isn't you," he whispered, shivering as fear tingled through him. But there was no response from you; instead, you threw him off. From his position on the ground, he watched as you approached, knife in hand, your eyes vacant. "Come back to me, my love," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

--- Tav ---

You found yourself disoriented, surrounded by pitch-black darkness. Moving forward, you navigated through what felt like a fog, your head throbbing painfully. Letting out a strangled scream, you clutched at your temples, bending over in an attempt to alleviate the shattering pain. Collapsing to the ground, your cries intensified as you scratched at your head, leaving marks on your face in a desperate bid to dispel the agony. As a cool hand touched your forehead, your body relaxed, tears welling in your eyes. "Astarion?" you whispered, looking up toward the figure. Your hope dissolved as you recognized it wasn't him. "What do you want?" you spat, narrowing your eyes into a glare.

Your reflection met your gaze with a wide smile. "Oh, don't pretend you're not glad to see me. Without me, you'd be lost here," she remarked, reaching out to grasp your hand gently. Jerking your hand away, you shook your head. "You're close to the city. It would be unfair if I didn't show you how you ended up like this and stripped of all your power," she hissed into your ear, appearing behind you.

The way she moved around you made you feel like prey. She slithered around you like a snake toying with its food, offering hope of escape before striking. "And what if I don't want to know? I already live with blood on my hands from taking the life of an innocent bard. I don't need the knowledge of more innocent lives I've claimed," you mumbled, keeping your gaze fixed on the ground.

"Because you'll have a run-in with our dear sister. Obviously, you don't know who she is, but she doesn't play games when it comes to pleasing our dear father," she spat, her gaze fixed into the distance. Whoever this sister was, you could only assume she had a hand in how you ended up in this situation. You flinched as she yanked you from the ground and spun you until you faced the opposite direction. Before you, the fog shifted and transformed into a scene. There you stood, facing someone you didn't recognize.

"When we were created, we pledged our loyalty to father without understanding. We killed in his name and worshipped him until a new family member emerged and ruined everything we had worked so hard to build. People feared us, and they still do. Our dear sister tries to establish her power in our likeness, but she lacks the control we once had," she hummed, pulling you into the scene.

Your surroundings morphed to match the environment. The scent of blood overwhelmed your senses, and you fought the urge to gag. "Why are you showing me this exactly? Why are you so desperate to make me remember?" you asked, surveying the unfamiliar surroundings. Though unsure of your location, the stone walls surrounding you resembled a temple. Your eyes caught sight of a large skull carved into the walls, and your body trembled with recognition, feeling power surging into you.

"It's vital that you remember. If I can't jog your memories, you'll be forced to face her, and she'll slaughter you in a matter of moments. As much as I enjoy tearing people limb from limb, it's rather difficult when your vessel is killed," she huffed, her gaze locking onto yours. "Now, why don't we relive some of our most cherished memories?" Grabbing your shoulders, you hissed as her nails dug into your skin.

---Astarion---

Astarion scrambled to kick you off him as you swung your arm, knife clutched tightly. "Tav, stop!" he yelled, his voice reverberating around the camp. Astarion had never felt fear like this before, especially when faced with your empty, lifeless gaze. Your movements resembled that of a puppet, leaving him bewildered. Had something affected you just before you left the shadowlands? What was happening to you?

You managed to land a hit on him, sending him flying across the camp. His eyes widened as he saw a sadistic smile spread across your face. "You're going to make such a pretty corpse," you said, your smile appearing unnaturally forced. As you stepped closer, your body was suddenly knocked to the side as someone tackled you to the ground, causing the knife to slip from your grip.

Astarion sucked in a breath as Karlach loomed over you, her eyes wild with rage. He could swear he saw pure fury behind her gaze—the kind that drove people to kill. It quickly shifted to a look of disappointment and concern. "What are you doing, soldier? This isn't you!" she yelled, shaking you by the shoulders. Astarion heard no verbal response, only the loud laughter that escaped you.

"Two pretty corpses. Father is truly going to enjoy this gift," you laughed, throwing your head back before your forehead collided with Karlach's. A violent crack echoed through the air, followed by the sight of blood dripping from the wound on your head where the skin had split. Astarion barely noticed the other companions rushing from their tents toward you. All he could focus on was how you fought each of your companions, a wild laughter reverberating through the camp.

---Tav---

You felt sick to your stomach watching the memories unfold before you. The deeds you had committed made you feel like the very monster you had always tried to escape. She watched your reaction closely, a crooked smile playing on her lips. Witnessing that dark part of yourself revel in the pain you had inflicted on others made you want to vomit. Seeing just what you were capable of reinforced your gratitude for the fresh start you had been given.

She placed her hands on your shoulders and leaned in close to whisper something in your ear. "If you think that's fascinating, you should see your most recent memory," she whispered, the smile evident in her voice as the scene before you shifted.

Your face twisted in confusion before morphing into sheer horror. Unsure if the scream you heard was your own or from one of your companions, you swung your weapon toward them. "Stop! What the hell is wrong with you!" you screamed, struggling in her grasp. You couldn't ignore the sight of Astarion clutching his side, the look of betrayal etched on his face. But behind his eyes gleamed a knowing glint—he understood that this wasn't you. She had deceived you, luring you into this state to attack and harm your family. Rage coursed through you as you clenched your fists, hands trembling.

"Do you smell the fear and betrayal radiating off of them? Look at them, trying to disarm you. They're scared of hurting you. It's pathetic, honestly. I expected more entertainment, considering they're so desperate to rid themselves of that tadpole. They love you so much when they should fear what you truly are. You're a weapon, a pawn of Bhaal, and you'll always bend to his will to please him," she hissed, tightening her grip on your shoulders.

Shaking your head, you squirmed against her hold, attempting to break free from her piercing grip. You could feel her nails digging into your arms, undoubtedly breaking the skin in the process. "That's where you're wrong. I've fought you off for this long; I can fight off Bhaal. I'll never bend to his will. I'll never become what he so desperately wants me to be," you growled, throwing your head back to connect with her nose.

With a howl, she stumbled back, wiping at her face as she narrowed her eyes at you. "Alright, little bird, you want to play? Let's play." You didn't waver in your stance as you turned to face her fully, determined to regain control over yourself and protect your family.

---Astarion---

Something within you shifted, that much he could discern. The way your body tensed, the ripple of muscles beneath your skin, the contortion of your face in agony— it was evident you were at war with yourself. He watched helplessly as your arm bent into an unnatural position. Astarion's every instinct urged him to intervene, to restrain you and assure you that everything would be alright, that the darkness inside you wouldn't prevail. But his resolve wavered when Gale struck you with thorn whip, causing him to freeze. Shooting to his feet, Astarion tackled Gale to the ground with a yell, pinning him down. "What in the nine hells were you thinking? You could hurt her!" Rage surged through him as he glared down at Gale.

Gale shoved Astarion off him, returning a glare. "In case you've forgotten, our dear companion is attempting to kill us. I regret any harm I may have caused her, but our lives take precedence at this moment," he retorted, his expression tense. "We don't know if she'll recover from this, Astarion. We need to protect ourselves."

Astarion snarled, shaking his head, his red orbs fixed on Gale. "If you touch her again, I'll drain you, dry wizard," he spat, moving away from him. His eyes widened as he dodged a silver flash of a blade. Grabbing your wrist, he twisted it until the knife fell to the ground. Embracing you tightly, he lowered both of you to the ground, holding you close. "Come on, Tav. Come back to me, sweetheart," he whispered as you struggled in his grasp.

His arms tightened around you as you thrashed, screams echoing throughout the camp. He could sense the others behind him, ready to intervene if necessary. Holding his breath, he felt a whimper escape your lips as you ceased moving. "I'm scared," you confessed, your voice trembling with vulnerability. This was the Tav he knew and cherished, the one he loved more than anything. Caressing your head, he planted a kiss on the back of it, pulling you closer.

As swiftly as you had calmed, you resumed thrashing in his arms, causing something to crack in his chest. Feeling the sweat on your skin seep through his shirt only added to his distress. If there was a moment in his life he never wanted to relive, it would be this one. Seeing you so broken and tormented tore him apart. You were enslaved by something beyond your control, and it shattered him to witness it. Pressing his forehead against the back of your head, he shut his eyes tightly, gently rubbing your arms. "You're alive. You're alive. You're alive," he repeated softly, hoping his words would bring you some comfort.

---Tav---

Fighting against yourself wasn't what you had envisioned. You weren't even certain if the entity before you was truly yourself. Your own face was no longer recognizable; instead, a grotesque creature stood in your place. The once innocent visage had twisted into something horrifying. Its features contorted into long, pointed teeth, its eyes resembling black pits, seemingly designed to instill fear in its prey before launching an attack. Four arms extended from its sides, while long spikes adorned its back, and a pointed tail swung wildly behind it. Fear spiked in your chest as you beheld the monstrosity before you. This was what you were, what you were capable of.

A loud wail echoed from the creature as it advanced toward you. The darkness within you was terrifying, even repulsive. Flames flickered to life in your hand as you narrowed your eyes. Perhaps this could be the moment you finally triumphed and escaped the cravings consuming you. Casting a fireball, the creature emitted a screech before swiping a hand at you, catching your side and sending you flying backward, blood seeping through your shirt. Emitting a small whimper, you tilted your head back and closed your eyes. The distant sensation of a caress enveloped you, accompanied by faint whispers in your ear.

"You're alive."

You recognized the voice instantly. The fear lacing his tone caused your heart to race. The silent promise behind his words spurred you to open your eyes just as the beast loomed above you, emitting another deafening shriek. Something cool touched your fingers as you unleashed a scream to match the volume of the creature above you. Raising your arms, you pierced its chest, blood splattering your face as you stood, driving the sword deeper. The creature collapsed to the ground, its form morphing back to resemble your own once again. Meeting your own eyes, you grimaced. "You'll never be rid of me. One day, as you lie beside your beloved, you'll feel me seize control of your body, and you'll be powerless to stop me from draining the life of the one you love," she coughed. Coldness enveloped your body as you gazed down at your own reflection. Before you could formulate a response, your vision began to blur, and your body crumpled to the ground.

---

Your eyes snapped open as you sucked air into your lungs, scrambling away from Astarion's grasp. Your hands ran over your torso, searching for any signs of the wounds you had suffered in the brawl with yourself. Wild with fear, your eyes scanned the surroundings, shivering from the sweat covering your body and the adrenaline coursing through you. Looking up, you froze as you felt the gaze of your companions upon you, their faces etched with worry, hands poised to defend themselves if needed. Your bottom lip wobbled as you took in their appearance. "I'm sorry," were the first words that slipped past your lips as you noticed the wounds they had gained from the earlier struggle. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you repeated, wrapping your arms around yourself and rocking back and forth.

You didn't hear their response, if there was one. Instead, you felt a pair of cool hands touch your arms, causing you to flinch slightly. As you relaxed against the touch, they pulled you toward a chest, holding you tightly against them. "Deep breaths, Tav. We know you didn't mean to. We know it wasn't you," Astarion mumbled. Your sobs echoed through the camp as you clung to him, only for them to intensify as you felt the arms of Shadowheart and a few other companions wrap around you, hugging you with the same intensity as Astarion.

You had lived. You had survived the grueling battle with yourself. You had won.

---Gale---

Gale had chosen to stay behind as he observed the scene unfolding before him. The cut on his arm stung from the earlier attack he had endured from you. Something in the back of his mind screamed at him to flee, to put as much distance between you and himself as possible. He couldn't ignore the way you looked at him from Astarion's shoulder, your eyes shining a bright blood red and a twisted smile spreading across your lips. Gale pressed his lips together, his eyes narrowing into a glare. You had never truly won.

[doki-doki-imagines]

It's Okay if you can handle yandere things, can you do the lin kuei trio, syzoth and raiden if they were a yander, i wanna know what's on your mind :D

tw: yandere, toxic relationships (obvs), gaslight, baby trapping, abuse (physically and mentally), death (not reader or characters), if I forgot a trigger tell me so I can add it🫡.

Raiden: -King of gaslight. -"Don't you remember I told you I was going to train? Why do you always trust her, she keeps tricking you! Don't you remember that one time?" -He didn't go out to train, no friends have ever tricked you. -It's impossible for your humble and kind boyfriend to lie to you. He only wants what is best for you. -That's why on your own accord (it's what Raiden keeps telling you) you have no friends, and don't go out. Your boyfriend already gives everything you need and want. -So when you cry alone in a corner of your room, it's just because you are the stupid one because anybody would be happy with what you have (or at least, that's what Raiden tells you).

Syzoth: -What more do you want? You already bear his children. That should be the apex of your life. -That's his strategy, always having kids, so you won't be able to go out. Syzoth taking care of food and every other basic care. -Your life will be forever centred on him and your kids, nothing else, no other important value, not even yourself. -"Act well, if you lose me, you lose yourself." -You can only nod like the mindless pawn you became.

Kuai Liang: -He is always angry, more often than not taking his anger on your body. -"Sorry fireball, I'll never do it again, I swear, stay with me. Forever." -It's never the last time he hurts you, but you believe him every time, cheeks hurting, throat purple, tears never stop flowing from your eyes. -Liang will try to keep you locked in his mansion as much as possible. No Shirai Ryu trainees should be able to see you, and you mustn't even look at other men other than him. -Or women. -The time you talked with Harumi, you couldn't even open your eyes the next day, face beaten up, and you had to take care of the wounds alone. -But every time, Liang promises that he loves you and you can't do anything other than believing him.

Tomas Vrbada: -He is the classical yandere, lovebombing you, saying that he can't live without you. -Killing every person that gets close to you; they should learn to stay in their space, those cockroaches. -Tomas can just think of you, and he'll make sure you will return the obsession. Not physically obliging you, but by eliminating every distraction that you have. -May the distractions be your friends, your parents, your pets… they all have the same value to him. -Zero.

Bi-Han: -Sadly, I think that even normal Bi-Han has toxic tendencies, mostly because he doesn't know how a normal relationship works. -You mustn't interact with other men. You mustn't have hobbies. -Your entire life should be dedicated to Bi-Han and Bi-Han only. -You won't even have the whole mansion for yourself. He'll imprison you in a small room, and he only has access to it. -Bi-Han will personally deliver anything you need, no contact with any other human being is allowed. -The cell doesn't have any window, so you can't even understand for how long you've been there. -Don't try to think too much, or you'll become crazy, just accept your fate.

[lyssak09]

Hello. Can you write yandere The Governor ( Philip Blake) ? Please

Yandere Philip Blake (The Governor)

So I've been rewatching his season to get some ideas for this and to refresh myself on his character, and god damn I forgot what a fucking psycho this man can be. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy. Happy reading

The governor could have met you in many ways, finding you during a recon mission, you and your small group finding Woodbury, or maybe he saw you injured while you were doing a scavenge run for the prison, and by god, you’re just so pretty, so how could he not help a pretty little thing like you.

Either way, he’ll fabricate elaborate lies about the fate of your loved ones/group, making you believe they are either dead or have abandoned you. This will isolate you emotionally and make you more reliant on him.

He collects mementos of your time together, ranging from innocent tokens to more disturbing trophies that remind him of you and your bond. These items are kept hidden, serving as a reminder of his ‘love’ for you.

When his control over you is threatened or challenged, The Governor’s demeanor can quickly shift from charming to violently possessive. He may resort to extreme measures to eliminate perceived threats to your relationship or his authority.

 In his mind, The Governor truly believes he is acting out of love and protection for you. He justifies his actions as necessary sacrifices for your happiness and survival in the harsh world they live in.

His love for you is twisted with manipulation. He showers you with gifts and affection one moment, only to use guilt or emotional blackmail to keep you from leaving his side when you express any desire for independence or doubts about his methods.

The Governor uses emotional blackmail, often threatening to harm himself or others if you try to leave or disobey him. He manipulates your guilt and compassion to keep you compliant.

I also wouldn’t put it past him to manipulate your health. If you ever fall ill or get injured, The Governor ensures you receive the best care, but he also uses your vulnerability to further establish your dependence on him. He might even exaggerate or fabricate medical conditions to keep you close.

The Governor often gives you gifts, each a reminder of how much he loves you. These gifts are sometimes eerily personal, like a necklace made from something you once mentioned liking in passing, showing just how closely he pays attention to you.

Any sign of rebellion or disobedience from you is met with stern reprimands or punishments. He uses psychological tactics, like silent treatment or feigned disappointment, to guilt you into compliance.

He constantly checks on you, bringing you gifts and necessities, ensuring you have everything you need. He uses these gestures to remind you how much he cares and how dangerous the world is outside his protection.

He uses his charm and authority to manipulate you into believing that everyone outside of Woodbury is a threat. He often exaggerates or fabricates stories of violence and betrayal to make you dependent on him.

The Governor often goes out of his way to personally inspect any new people who come into contact with you, ensuring they are no threat to you or his control over you.

To you and others, The Governor appears charismatic and caring, often offering a helping hand and creating an image of a benevolent leader. However, on the inside, his possessiveness and manipulation are prominent.

In public, The Governor often displays exaggerated affection towards you, making it clear to everyone that you belong to him. This also serves to remind you of his power and influence over your life.

The Governor keeps a journal where he obsessively documents everything about you – your likes, dislikes, daily routines, and any conversations you two have. This helps him tailor his behavior to be the perfect partner in your eyes.

He has a secret room filled with photographs and memorabilia of you. This is his sanctuary where he indulges in his obsession, convincing himself that everything he does is for your own good.

In his mind, your relationship is destined and he often speaks to you about a future where they rule over Woodbury together, framing it as a utopian dream while ignoring your discomfort.

The Governor involves you in personal projects or missions, making you feel important and valued. These projects are often designed to keep you busy and distracted from thoughts of leaving.

He frequently uses emotional manipulation to keep you dependent on him, going between showing you affection and then subtly reminding you of the horrors outside Woodbury’s walls.

He fabricates stories of people trying to harm you, using these lies to justify his controlling behavior and making you believe you are safer with him.

"Baby girl you don't understand! That man was saying some of the most awful things about you behind your back. There were rumors of him planning to help some bandits raid us! He wasn't right for Woodbury.” Phillip lies right through his teeth to you, you wouldn’t understand the truth, that man was getting in between you too. He also was starting to alert people about Phillip's weird behavior towards you. So, he needed to be eliminated.

The Governor plants false allies in your life, people who pretend to support you but are loyal to him. These spies report back on your thoughts and actions, ensuring he always knows what you’re planning.

He controls the flow of information to you, censoring news and updates about the outside world. This keeps you unaware of potential opportunities for escape or allies that might help you.

He insists on knowing your whereabouts at all times. If you’re late or out of his sight for too long, he becomes furious and demands an explanation, using his anger as a way to guilt/scare you into compliance.

"Where have you been Darlin'? You were supposed to meet us for dinner 15 minutes ago. Someone keeping you chattin'?" He says with a charming grin but if you look close enough you could see his eye twitching ever so slightly. He had planned a romantic dinner for just the two of you and with every minute of you not joining him was driving him crazy. If he had to wait even just five more minutes for you then he might have put out an alert to his security team and started hunting for you.

He manipulates situations to make you see him as your savior. For instance, he might stage a walker attack and “rescue” you just in time to reinforce your gratitude and reliance on him.

The Governor believes that his actions are justified because of the dangerous world they live in. He convinces himself and tries to convince you that his extreme measures are acts of love and necessity.

Despite his controlling behavior, he shows moments of vulnerability, sharing his past traumas to elicit sympathy from you and bind you to him emotionally.

Whenever you tries to escape or express a desire to leave, The Governor stages elaborate scenarios to prove how dangerous the outside world is, reinforcing your fear of leaving the community.

Phillip was breathing heavily, one arm wrapped around you and the other out, gripping a machete tightly. He had just secretly cut open a hole in the fence, allowing walkers to trickle in, just close enough to scare you as he rushes to be your knight in shining armor. Once he’s killed most of the walkers and gotten back up he drags you to a private spot as he investigates to see if you’re hurt at all, enjoying the feeling of you clutching onto him. “This is why you have to stay here baby, with me. Who knows what could have happened if I wasn’t here to save you.” Phillip proclaimed, having to bite back a pleased smirk as you nodded your head yes, still trying to catch your breath. Maybe this’ll stop your talks of leaving for a while.

If you continues to try and escape The Governor quietly sabotages any of your attempts to leave the community. He'll tamper with vehicles, hide supplies, or create barriers that force you to stay. But if that doesn’t deter you then he’ll become a bit more aggressive in keeping you with him and from escaping.

The Governor constantly seeks validation from you, fishing for compliments and gratitude

I 100% believe he’s an attention whore for you. All he wants is for you to focus on him 24/7. He’ll definitely have his attention on you 24/7 as well, even when he’s not with you.

He installs hidden cameras and bugs in your living quarters, ensuring he knows your every move and conversation. He often uses this information to confront you about perceived disloyalty or to manipulate your emotions.

He will become extremely violent if any harm comes to you or if anyone tries to take you from him.

The number of people he has secretly killed many for you, people who threatened you, got too close to you, got in his way, and even people who just didn’t like you. 

Phillip loves you more than anything, meaning he’d do anything for you. So good luck trying to escape him. Maybe if you’re lucky the group (Rick’s group) will manage to save you. 

Keyword maybe

[to-be-a-dreamer]

I talked about this in the tags of a reblog but I need to expand on this because my brain is vibrating and it's all Hank Freaking Green's fault. This will not be coherent at all just roll with it.

I don't know if it was on purpose or not but the scene where The Fix and Pasha were flirting by exchanging fun facts did so so much for the Fix's character in my mind because like. Pasha is the only character we've seen who had a positive response to the Fix's fun facts right off the bat. (Presumably the orphans at the Home for Wayward Interests had positive responses but I'm specifically talking about on-screen reactions.)

The targets that the Fix talks to are so terrified by his facts that they just disintegrate on the spot. The DA is mildly annoyed at best by them. Even the other Prefrontal PIs are freaked out or confused by them at first. It takes a couple episodes for them to come around to his fun facts, especially after "half the bones in your body" one. It takes them some time to realize that that's just how The Fix communicates his thoughts and ideas. He uses his fun facts as a way to connect and bond with friends just as much as he uses them to intimidate his targets.

But Pasha is the first person we see and, presumably, one of the only people in The Fix's life to hear one of his facts and not only immediately accept and understand it to be a method of conversation, but to also respond with a fact of their own and have an entire conversation with The Fix in the way he feels most comfortable.

We've seen so many times that The Fix goes out of his way to try and appear less threatening or even avoid people altogether because he knows most people are scared of him because of his appearance. It takes him so long to convince the other Prefontal PIs that he's really not going to hurt Conrad (compare how quickly Dan is a part of the group and how his motives are never questioned despite how vocal he is about hating Conrad and being all too eager to turn him over to the police and/or have him murdered to how long it takes The Fix) and he doesn't even seem hurt by the idea that all these people think he would murder a child when he's clearly a very kind and loving person, especially to children.

He's just. Come to terms with the fact that everyone's first impression of him will be this big intimidating presence who enjoys hurting people. But he's not. He's just passionate about his job, like everyone else in the city. It just happens to be that his job is to keep Elias focused, which means letting go of the butterfly tails. When he's tasked with eliminating someone who doesn't seem like they need to be eliminated, he immediately stops and questions the case. As far as I can tell, he doesn't like to kill people, he doesn't do it for fun. He does it because that's his job, literally the only thing he was made to do. But he's come to accept that most people will always be afraid of him because of that job.

And then he meets Pasha, who immediately accepts his form of communication without question or confusion. Who isn't afraid or intimidated by him. Who isn't just entertaining his fun facts but is actively engaging and returning with her own. She is the first person (who isn't a child, who is the Fix's peer) that The Fix could talk to without having to explain himself. The first person who wasn't afraid or confused or annoyed by the way he expresses himself.

Like. I dunno I imagine it would almost be like moving to a foreign country as a child and not being able to speak in your native language because every time you do people are suspicious of you or annoyed that you aren't speaking the local language or just plain don't understand you, even if they're trying to be kind about it. And it's harder to explain yourself and express your thoughts in this new language but you learn and you adapt because it's the only way to survive. Then you meet someone who speaks your language. Someone who allows you to speak freely and for the first time you can actually express yourself fully and easily. And they're speaking back to you in the language you think in and for once you don't have to translate everything before you say it out loud and after you hear it. I think that would feel so freeing.

So yeah, I'm guessing that scene was supposed to be a silly goofy one-off gag that's just funny and cute but it genuinely means so much to me. Truly I don't get people who say The Fix isn't as deep or interesting as the other characters he is FACINATING to me and this isn't even touching on his relationship with Conrad or what he might be feeling after learning Ichabod was Pasha's brother. (If it gets revealed that Ichabod was one of The Fix's first hits I will lose it.)

Thank you for coming to my late-night nonsense ramblings I hope I was mildly entertaining

[willgrahamsleftear]

Okay I'm here to subscribe to your newsletter, please elaborate on this at your earliest convenience!!

Just woke up heyyy!!

Okay so I have a theory that Mark was kinda trying to commit suicide in a really roundabout way via the coffin trap.

He enters the room after Peter with a syringe. Why would he do that if not so that he could get Peter into the coffin by force? Which would then make him be the one to get crushed to death, and frames Peter completely for his crimes, letting Mark die with his dignity as an innocent man in the eyes of others.

He tries to get out of the coffin when he’s shoved into it, though we don’t really know if this is a ruse or not. I feel like it wasn’t, considering we see him struggling to get out of the coffin during the fight and hitting the glass when it locks. Though he does accept it afterwards and takes the opportunity to mock Peter.

Also, he gets extremely self-destructive after Peter’s death. Even before forensics & the audio unscrambling outed him as Jigsaw, he’s got no real reason to keep living and so he just continues killing people in more brutal, showy ways. Then when he is discovered, he goes around killing FBI agents, police and swat teams, and further implicating himself rather than trying to cover it up like he did before the coffin trap.

After Jigsaw’s death, he doesn’t really have a reason to live. In encouraging Amanda to kill Lynn via blackmail, and setting up Peter to kill slowass Jeff, and locking them all in the room together.. and on top of that, with Peter and Perez’ trial (killing Peter and Perez, if it went to plan, which it didn’t), all he’s doing is eliminating any ties he could have to the Jigsaw murders, and anyone who could either figure out he is a Jigsaw apprentice (Peter, Perez) or could name him as Jigsaw (Amanda, John, though we can’t be entirely sure he planned that. I’d say it was more that he got ‘lucky’ that they died?)

Once he finds out Peter survives, he then sets him up to be framed as Jigsaw. Why would he frame Peter if he was just going to kill him? And then further attempt to frame Peter after his death (which I believe was him just trying to cope with the fact that nothing he did went according to plan. He wasn’t as good at ‘predicting the human mind’ as John was.)

He has basically no reason to keep going after John’s death (at least, no outside reason. I personally believe he lost his internal interest in living as soon as his sister died, and would have probably committed suicide after Seth Baxter’s murder if it weren’t for John.) He lost his sister, his work environment isn’t good, he’s been shown to have incredibly self-destructive tendencies.

He just couldn’t predict that Peter would overpower him and shove him in the coffin. That Peter wouldn’t finish the tape.

It’s SUCH a loose kinda “just trust me bro” sorta theory but ARGHGH it adds so much to his character and I hold it very very close to my heart