#split character data

[equinoxts2]

So... I played and took loads of screenshots... then had to restore a backup from before I played and took the screenshots, because all the pets I'd made after taking the backup had come out with split character files. All of them. Not the sims, just the pets.

This means two things: one, back to the backup so it will take longer for me to get the first Kulo Sena update out.

Also, I need to ask: has anyone ever experienced this, and if so, how (if at all) did you resolve it?

[dkettchen]

absolutely unintelligeable meme I made during bootcamp lecture this morning

[kodorki]

forever upset the route system in fates was done as poorly as it was because had it been done in any normal way, i would have liked this game significantly more and significantly earlier than now

[akpaley]

Made smooth and slick of seas and strands Tides that turn at your commands A heartbeat held by heavy hands

More Kaijja character writing. Roughly 1200 words on the beginning of her romantic relationship with the flesh god.

---

He does not mind solitude, but when you lack other obligations he does not mind your intrusion either. It is perhaps not usual, but it is natural to be fascinated with a god. You intrude often. You call it an extension of work, and the two of you do work through problems together. He was surprised, once upon a time, when he inflicted experience on you to demonstrate the severity of his edicts and you, not unshaken but still engaged, asked if he felt such detail in the experience of every person he faced. He had not been asked to use his power as a tool of empathy, not after imposing such suffering, not in centuries, but it is commonplace between you now. You wonder to what extent he can feel you enjoy it, even when it is excruciating. And the intellectual exercise is useful. Many times simulation of similar encounters has helped you watch for signs of tension, has made you more perceptive to the way your interlocutors conduct themselves and react to you. It is practical, and there is a quiet selfish pleasure in understanding the way he sees and feels the world.

Mirjat tells you it is unusual for Iokhar's Advocate to be his friend, or even to like the man, and you understand that but you do not relate. He is beautiful when he attempts to be terrifying, he is rational when he cannot intimidate, he is deeply intensely perceptive, and in his own stoic way he is oddly soft. Perhaps kind is a better word. He cares much more deeply than he shows. There is a selfish little thrill in that as well, knowing that you have brought out in him qualities most others never see. Knowing that you surprise him, a man who can feel everything but your thoughts just standing across from you. You accomplish a great deal in your tenure, but it is this that most often produces that quiet sense of pride.

He shows you change. In theory this is to make a point, but the point is unnecessary. You are not asking about something of immediate importance. It is after hours and you are asking about a story, about old scripture, from a primary source. This is not uncommon, and alongside speaking in words he chooses to sate a curiosity he knows you will have. When he has pulled you back together into the right shape you grin up at him. He studies you, near expressionless, and says "This is inappropriate." It is the strangest declaration of love you will ever receive, and you see it for what it is immediately. It should shock you, but somehow it does not. You agree. The evening ends with a veneer of stoic professionalism.

You will talk about it the next day. You will talk about it for the next week. You will see a degree of begrudging openness from him that you will not realize has been kept from you until you see it for the first time. You seek counsel, as is the responsible thing to do, but find that there is very little doubt as to the choice you will make. Mirjat appeals to your career, to the work that you've done, to the work that you might still do, and you find the arguments that have driven you all your life unconvincing.

You split your evenings between discussions with Iokhar and your own private consideration. You know the thrill of new intimacy will cloud your judgment, and he does too, but you both recognize that no matter what decision the two of you make your relationship will change. The idea of a purely professional relationship absent discussions of philosophy, history, art and other work feels galling, having experienced a relationship that is mutually irreplaceable. Later the idea of being irreplaceable to him will raise warmth in your chest and bring a smile to your face, but in that week while you assess it is simply a fact to be weighed. You are problem solving. Your feelings are data, but you do not have time to feel them fully. Only that they tell you what you want. You will resign with two weeks left in the season and half a term unfinished. It will take you most of the remaining two weeks working with your Clericy to choose Devadas as a successor, swear him in as Kalidas, and get him up to speed.

You already spend a great deal of time working during the on season, but for the better part of two weeks private time is practically nonexistent. This is a major adjustment, expected by no one, and by the time Iokhar leaves Kalidas must be prepared to represent him fully in the Council of Advocates. Anything you knew, anything you were working on, must be written down in such detail that it can be picked up where you left off. While you will join the Clericy of Iokhar, thus becoming available as a resource, it will take another month for the Clericy of the Petitioner Saints to determine this is the appropriate course of action and you must prepare for the contingency in which your full abdication from governance is determined necessary. It is not until the final night that you and your god finally have proper time together again. You sit quietly for much of it. He holds you and seems unpracticed, which to be fair you are as well. A decade is not a short time. A century and a half is longer. Yet, for all that, the mere ten months in front of you suddenly seems very long indeed.

"I would hear your voice when I am gone," he tells you, and it is less vulnerability than simple truth.

"I'd love to hear yours too," you say with irony, "but I suppose one of us will have to wait."

"I will not shirk my duties," he says, "But--"

"I would not ask you to." He pauses and then drops the apology. "Come back next season with stories for me." You smile as if this is a usual farewell, a friendship set aside to be picked up where it left off upon his return.

Very calmly, he takes your hand in his and matches his gaze to yours. For the first time you can feel the sensation of his own body mapped to yours, and you feel his quiet simmering hunger for you, individual fibers of his being humming beneath his skin for touch that a human lover could never even pretend. You feel it in the strands of your own muscles, suddenly yearning to rise up from beneath your skin and embrace the man in front of you. It is nearly overwhelming. Your breath catches and you do not dare break his gaze for fear it might stop. His voice is a low rumble in his chest. "I will." 

It is a greater promise than you asked for. It will stick with you during the long months of his absence, haunting your prayers and quiet moments and intruding on your activities unprompted.  

Upon his return, he will admit that this was the point.

[thisisnotthenerd]

ok: the spreadsheet is updated [thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats]

so is the other spreadsheet [D20 Episode Randomizer]

both will continue updating throughout the season, with character data and episode data, so keep an eye out.

random stats for you to enjoy:

brennan is in the dome for his 20th season, 16th as GM

ally is tied with lou for most seasons in the dome as a player (11) and will overtake him in episode count by the end of the season, with 173 to lou's 170

rekha and izzy are tied with brennan for seasons as players (4), and tied for episodes (36). they've played two of their four individual seasons together (T7 & NSBU).

ify moves up to the 3-season group, with a total of 20 episodes.

alex is back for their second kids on bikes season, capping out at 16 episodes

jacob is in the dome for the first time! we're so glad to have him

R2 is officially ally's seat, given that they've spent 5 seasons and 77/173 episodes in it

in terms of the players, we're at a completely even gender split: 2 female, 2 male, 2 nonbinary.

with this season, we break 250 episodes of dimension 20

we're up to a total of 523 hours, 41 minutes, and 54 seconds. that's roughly 21.8 days, or three weeks of dimension 20, before the season starts. the average episode length is 2:10:23, and median is 2:09:08.

as for the season:

i love the concept--d20 does genre pastiche really well; they're taking an already campy concept and making it campier. they're digging into the comedy sandbox in a fun, chaotic, balls-to-the-wall way this go-around. and what a cast to do it with.

this combines multiple forms of 80's nostalgia in a way that the cast can play in easily; there are a lot of elements to play with on multiple character levels

we're back with a kids on bikes reskin, much like mentopolis. i think it's going to continue to be a staple because the system is simple enough for people to jump in quickly, it's easy to reskin with varying stats, and it has a lot of room for improvisers to play with. right now it's functionally d20's second system, with three seasons on the docket. everyone say thank you aabria for introducing kids on bikes to the dome.

the dual layer of characters is a fun flavor to add--it's just an extra filter that we get to see the cast work with, and not something we've particularly seen them do before. they aren't just playing the movie characters, they're playing them in the way that they think their original characters would perceive the archetypes.

in conjunction with that: kids on bikes lends itself well to playing with archetypes--we saw it in both mentopolis and misfits & magic. we're looking at a few here in NSBU: the action hero [car and gun variants], the femme fatale, the debonair spy, the mob boss, and the hacker.

in other words, i can't wait for june 26th!

[buckets-and-trees]

Big Conversation

Title: Big Conversation Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 1100 Summary: Sequel to Desperate, Uncertain and Sure, and Insatiable... Life keeps moving forward, and so does the relationship that has completely turned around between you and Bucky, including how that will look now in your shared workplace.

Content/Warnings: fluff, new relationship feels

Author Notes: Week five piece for @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - the prompt was "We're..." with friends with benefits, exes, and enemies to lovers as options - and ticking off teasing for me to catch up on January for Build-a-Bucky Bingo.

You were so immersed in studying the map and interpreting the data points on your screen with Conor that you didn’t notice the hush that washed over what was a typical hubbub of noise outside your office, or else you might have guessed someone with A Name in the agency had hit the floor.

Instead, it was the decisive knock on your doorframe that brought you out of deep concentration.

When your eyes clocked the Winter Soldier there, a warm smile split across your face. “Sergeant Barnes! Is it already eleven-thirty?” you asked, glancing down at your watch.

“Nearly,” he replied, smiling back, but you noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Eyes that were scrutinizing the man standing just over your shoulder.

“Bucky, this is Conor Sullivan.”

“I’m the director of the digital media analysis team,” Conor said, his Irish accent more pronounced than usual, and instead of straightening, he maintained the stance he’d adopted to look over your shoulder at the screens.

“I’m an Avenger,” Bucky offered.

You bit your lip to keep from giggling.

The posturing energy in the room was painfully palpable.

“We’ve been looking over the latest social media trends, crossing referencing that with reports we’re getting from some of our agents, and the leads Joaquin has been pursuing in Eastern Europe. The activity of the Flag Smashers is absolutely heating up again, and there’s some definite indicators that some potential leaders of the group may be circling in Tirana.”

“I look forward to the briefing – it’s always gratifying when a hunch my team has turns out to have traction,” Bucky’s words were slightly stilted. “Maybe we put something on the books for after lunch. Do you think your findings will be ready by then, Sullivan?”

“More than enough time, Barnes,” Conor responded.

“Even without this analysis mastermind?” Bucky asked, gesturing to you. “We have a date with HR at eleven-thirty.”

“A date?” Conor asked.

“Sorry,” Bucky quickly corrected, “I meant to say meeting.”

You tried to discreetly put your hand to your stomach to hold in the laughter. This was too much.

“We have a meeting with HR to officially disclose our relationship status,” Bucky further explained.

“Oh, I didn’t know,” Conor started, abruptly straightening.

“Of course not, you’re working with one of the most consummate professionals around, she’s never been messy in the workplace.”

“Not true,” you interjected, your cheeks heating slightly. “I used to be fairly passive aggressive and petty towards you.”

“But you did it in a way that you somehow always maddeningly remained above actual reproach,” Bucky said. “We’re one of those classic enemies to lovers romances for the ages. What do they call it now? End game? Like Taylor and Travis.”

You tilted your head, but you did not risk looking at Conor.

“Taylor and Travis?”

“Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce,” Bucky explained. “There was no animosity for them to overcome, but the true love, end game thing.”

“I… should let you get to your meeting, then,” Conor said, some reticence in his tone.

Bucky came further into your office and Conor passed him on the way out.

Bucky squared his shoulders and didn’t relax his intimidating gaze for one second, but Conor was formidable in his own right – only an inch shorter and with maybe twenty pounds less of muscle, the charming, blond, Irish man didn’t pass for someone who you’d expect to work the office side of things in this building.

“You used to date that guy?” Bucky asked two beats after he’d gone, a boyish, smirking grin on his face as he turned back to you.

“Two dates,” you reminded him, “only two dates, and it was more than a year ago.”

“What kind of name is Conor Brady? Could he be more Irish?”

You laughed. “Your names is James.”

“But I go by Bucky,” he countered, reaching out a hand.

You stood and stepped right up to him, twining your fingers with his. “End game?” you changed the line of post-encounter questioning.

Bucky tugged you close with the one hand, and his vibranium hand came up to cup your cheek. “We haven’t said it with those words, but that enemies wave we rode out? The ordeal just outside of Paris? The past six weeks with you since then? Unless you’re not convinced, I’m all in for the long haul.”

You pressed up on your tiptoes and kissed him in a blazing, euphoric heat. He returned the kiss, circling his arm around your waist while still keeping your fingers twined, and pressed your soft body against his chest.

You could kiss this man for an eternity, but you did finally press him away. “End game for me, too.”

“Yeah?”

The smitten smile on his face made you want to close your door and get to much more than kissing. The feelings that shone through his eyes made your heart swell.

“Yeah,” you affirmed and delivered a quick peck.

Everything with him had always been intense, strong, deep feelings. Now that they were rooted in care and affection, it only made you more sure every day since you’d finally broken down the walls and defenses that had been there before.

“That possessive streak looked good on you,” you teased, but he grinned.

“You like knowing you’re my girl?”

“That’s why we’re declaring our intentions to HR,” you said. “Now let’s go make it official, and then maybe I’ll show you in the back of your car just how much I like it.”

“Damn,” Bucky groaned, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead briefly to yours. “I’m holding you to that.”

You kissed him again, just one more time.

Then you giggled.

“What?” Bucky asked, echoing with a half laugh.

“You really said enemies to lovers?”

“You loved it.”

“And Taylor and Travis?”

“You know I was there next to you when you were scrolling through video after video of London night three last weekend and then Dublin this weekend. I’m invested in them now, too. I can appreciate a man who unapologetically loves his woman.”

“Bucky,” you breathed, heart aching and swelling for this man. He smiled and pulled you out of your office, and you followed happily. He was everything, gave you all the shades you’d hoped to find, someone who was proving to be a true other half, and you couldn’t wait for the days and weeks and months and years ahead and all the ways he’d make you laugh, make you melt, and sometimes both at the same time.

We've come a long way from their start in Desperate, but I just... want them to be in love and happy and get to have fun moments now. I can't help it! 🫠

↠ NEXT PART: Too Hot

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[episims]

Split Character Files

I was let known that my personality-based witch idles mod causes new sims to have split character files.

It made me look into the issue. Since the information about it is spread across various forum threads and lacked some details too, I decided to gather what I've found in this post.

What does a 'split character file' mean?

Each sim has its own character file in Documents directory. For example, Neighborhoods \ E001 \ Characters \ E001_User00024.package is Samantha Cordial.

When a character file is split, in addition to the usual E001_User00024.package there's also a file named E001_User00024.1.package. It would still be Samantha Cordial, but her data would be stored in two files instead of just one.

What kind of mods cause it?

Mods that edit character templates. That means: TemplatePerson (group 0x7FEDFE16), TemplateCat (0x7F99E646), TemplateDog (0x7F3C1917), and TemplateSmallDog (0x7F593B25). In addition, NPCs have their own character templates too.

These templates seem to get copied whenever a new sim or a pet is created. If you have a mod that includes a part of them, it appears the game creates a second character file and then copies any related BHAVs from the mod into it.

Do split character files cause problems?

In SimPe's neighborhood browser, a split character file might not be displayed properly and it's possible that you won't be able to edit the sim's stats with SimPe if that happens.

The game itself seems to be able to parse the sim together from two character files in most cases. However, it's plausible that it causes the empty/wiped face glitch to appear. As I tested the issue, I was able to replicate this myself multiple times with split character files and others have seen this happening in their games, too.

There are also people in related threads who say they have split character files and haven't noticed it causing problems.

Why do mods edit these templates, then?

I don't think it's been common knowledge what exactly causes the issue. And to be fair, creating new sims and then inspecting their character files isn't probably a part of many modder's testing routines. It sure hasn't been a part of mine.

The unpleasant fact is that if we want to make some things happen through mods, editing the code related to templates might be necessary. Ideally, Maxis would've only used them to create new sims and pets, but that's not the case. Their code gets called in various other situations – when witches idle, for example.

Now that we know which groups are involved, I hope modders can at least alert players when we share mods that cause this issue.

How can I know if the mods I use cause split character files?

It's not that common for mods to edit the templates, so suspecting all mods isn't necessary. Here are some mods that do edit them:

My Personality-based Witch Idles (includes code from TemplatePerson, the NPC witch template, and the NPC servo template) the latest mod update doesn't cause split character files anymore

Object Freedom 1.02 by @fwaysims (TemplateCat, TemplateDog, TemplateSmallDog)

lobonanny by Pescado (the nanny NPC template)

Spectral Cat Variety by @hexagonal-bipyramid (the spectral cat NPC template)

AntiGoodWitchIdleAnims by @paradoxcase (the link is broken and kestrellyn hasn't reuploaded this one to MTS, but assumingly involves the same templates as my witch idle mod)

Landlord Gardens Only Communal Areas by simler90 (the landlord NPC template)

Business Mod by simler90 (the chef NPC template, the reporter NPC template)

Gypsy Matchmaker Fix by simler90 (the matchmaker NPC template)

Buy Build Enabler for BV by cathair2005 (the social worker NPC template)

More points for woohoo with professors by Marhis (the professor NPC template)

No Relationship with Servers by Neder (the server NPC template)

Baby Toddler Mod by simler90 (the nanny NPC template)

There are probably more but in most cases, only specific NPCs are affected. Quite many people have reported having split NPCs in their games without noticing any issues with them.

Using these mods doesn't affect existing character files, but it will affect any new ones. You can prevent the split from happening by temporarily removing these mods from your game before creating new sims or pets, but you should keep in mind that this also includes spawning townies and NPCs (when their template is involved, that is) as well as born-in-game babies.

Can we stop the character files from splitting altogether?

If we can, it's sadly beyond my skillset as it appears to be hard-coded. I'm interested in testing if split character files can be safely merged back into one but I don't know about that either, yet.

I hope this clarifies the issue for someone! If I missed some crucial info, please comment.

[dannyfandomphd]

Moral purity and imaginative resistance as influencing factors in fandom 'anti' attitudes

Jessica Black et al.'s 2019 experiment on the correlation between enjoying dark/villainous characters, personal morality and purity beliefs, and imaginative resistance is so interesting when applying it to anti culture and fandom.

They created a Dark Character Scale where participants self-selected how strongly in agreement or disagreement they were with a series of statements about dark or villainous fictional characters. Some of these questions were the following:

"I enjoy films and books that feature main characters that choose morally questionable actions."

"I can often understand where the bad guys in fiction are coming from."

"My favourite fictional characters are morally ambiguous and often do horrible things."

They then utilised the Moral Foundations Questionnaire (Graham et al. 2011) to see what participants considered important when deciding on whether something is morally right or wrong, for example:

Whether or not someone suffers emotionally

Whether or not someone did something disgusting*

Whether or not someone was cruel

Whether or not someone was denied [their] rights

Whether or not someone acted in a way God would approve of*

as well as how strongly participants agreed or disagreed with statements such as:

Compassion for those who are suffering is the most crucial virtue

People should not do things that are disgusting, even if no one is harmed*

It can never be right to kill a human being

I would call some acts wrong on the grounds that they are unnatural*

Respect for authority is something all children need to learn.

One of the final scales participants used was the Black & Barnes (2017) Imaginative Resistance Scale. This is basically used to gauge how resistant the reader is to enjoying or consuming fictional content that contains characters, situations, or worldbuilding that they personally find morally disagreeable. They had to select how strongly they agreed/disagreed with questions like:

Reading books where bad things are depicted as morally acceptable makes me feel dirty

I just can't go along with a story when it violates my beliefs about morality

At times it feels like the author of a book is asking me to endorse actions that I know are wrong

Some things just shouldn't be done, even within a book

I sometimes cannot go along with a story when the "good" characters do morally reprehensible things

Sympathising with immoral characters makes me feel immoral myself.

Unsurprisingly, analysis of the data revealed that there was a strong correlation between disliking or not enjoying dark fictional characters or villains and having a higher purity morality score and more imaginative resistance.

They performed this test in three studies done on three completely different demographics - the first being mostly liberal women from social media sites, the second being mostly younger conservative college undergrads, and the third being adults split 50/50 in gender recruited from MTurk. All three studies showed that having stronger imaginative resistance and higher purity morality scores is directly linked to a lower score on the DCS - meaning that they would like or enjoy dark fictional characters and their actions less.

This tracks pretty well with what can be seen in the emerging anti culture within fandom:

Self-identified 'antis' are likely to agree strongly with the statements from the Imaginative Resistance Scale, and are more likely to score highly on the questions in Moral Foundations Questionnaire that are specifically demarcated as being concerned with purity (marked above with an asterisk *). This means that they are also, according to these studies, much more likely to disagree with dark fictional characters and their actions.

There is also a very interesting point in one of the discussions areas where Black et al. state "It is worth reiterating that the participants in Study 2 tended to be more conservative, and therefore potentially more likely to have greater concerns about moral purity" which tracks with what people in fandom have been saying about antis parroting conservative/puritan talking points and arguments.

What I find the most interesting is the following statement:

"However, moral purity and imaginative resistance are consistently positively correlated, both in the current studies and in prior research ... and are both likely to reflect a fear of moral contagion that would discourage people from identifying with and liking [dark fictional characters]."

This, when applied to antis, suggests that antis may harbor the subconscious belief that enjoying dark fictional content, and therefore being a 'proshipper', is literally psychically contagious. They may view this as some kind of moral disease which is spreading and infecting fandom, which could explain why they are so vehemently against it - fear. This is the puritan Moral Panic all over again.

Black et al. also discuss theories of fictional engagement and parasocial relationships/identification, and whether these studies is relevant to "when and for whom fictional engagement could have the potential to negatively affect real world attitudes or behaviour".

Jessica Black and Jennifer Barnes often publish articles together and have some incredibly interesting reading of morality and fiction that I'd be interested to see applied to fandom and anti culture in an academic setting. Perhaps some people in the field like Samantha Aburime (@rainystudios) are already looking into it - and I'm hoping I can do the same in my studies.

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Twisted Wonderland Boys x Fem Reader in their respective Fairytales (Series)

─────❅───── This was an ask by @cartoonykat I couldn't compile it in the inbox, m sorryyy (╥﹏╥) "Hi, I was wondering if you could do a Twisted Wonderland Boys (Except ortho) x Reader, Where they are in their respective Disney tale, or a fairytale that fits their character?" A/n: This is a pretty broad idea that makes me want to do a whole series about it! Maybe I’ll do everyone… but first I’ll put housewardens and their vice housewardens first! Thank you for requesting this! I was a bit lost how I can do this one but hopefully I hit the right point! It’ll be split into a series, cause when I was writing I realized, it got long. Hope you like it! About the Gender, I put fem, but the gender wasn't that specific in each part, it's very vague. Masterlist

─────❅───── Content Warning: This Fic will be tagged as 16+ since it is a bit suggestive along with mentions of Gorey themes (Azul), it’s very vague. I haven’t finished Book 6 and Book 7 because I’m stuck in Tartarus, but they’re not done here yet. Riddle (Suggestive Themes), Leona (Cussing, Blood mention), Azul (Obsession, Manipulation, Cussing once, Potential Cannibalism? (He eats merpeople who are turned into Polyps). The reason for potential OOC was cause I mixed both the classic Villains with the personality of our beloved boys Due to the Tumblr Limit, Each one will be divided unfortunately, hopefully it's an easy navigation for all of you! ─────❅─────

First Batch would be: Riddle, Leona, Azul Second Batch would be: Kalim, Idia, Malleus

List of Villains interconnecting with each character:

Riddle = Queen of Hearts

Leona = Scar

Azul = Ursula

─────❅───── Sypnosis: After an experiment gone wrong, you and Grim along with Deuce concocted a potion that exploded in your face, you fell into deep slumber, and due to the effects of the potion, it caused you to dream about your boyfriend/s reigning as their… villain counterparts?! And why are you in the outfit of the main character? What’s going on? ─────❅───── Riddle:

When you woke up as Alice, you didn’t expect to see Riddle in his housewarden outfit. This time, however, he was acting a bit strange. By strange, he was hostile with you, reminding you of the time when he was still in his strict, crazy, unjust ruler phase.

You thought that you were probably dreaming because there’s no way Riddle would ever be rough with you like this. Even before, he was often gentle with you, especially knowing that you were magicless. He was harsh with his words, sure, but he never laid a finger on you. The only time he did was during his overblot, but after that, he was the softest man you’d ever encountered.

“State your name,” he glanced at your figure sprawled down Infront of him, voice amplified with authority as he gripped a staff adorned with a heart symbol. He was the true image of a king—or rather, a queen. His authoritative presence reminded you of the true Queen of Hearts, whom he admired and aspired to emulate.

“Riddle don’t be ridiculous” You were hurt that he didn’t remember you since you two were practically dating in the real world, a vein throbbed on his head, patience running thin. He slammed his staff on the ground, the force sending shockwaves through the air and producing a loud clang. "I said, state. your. name.” he glared down at you, looking at you as if you were a feeble flea in front of him. "You're quite bold talking back to me"

Getting intimidated, you immediately stated your name as well as the reason why you were here truthfully, at first, he wanted to laugh at your face, transported to another world? Don’t be stupid, as if he’d believe you.

You managed to convince him that you truly were not from here by pointing out the fact that he didn’t know who you were despite ruling Wonderland. He, as the ruler, should have data on every citizen of his region, right?

That made him pause. He should have beheaded you for disrespecting him in front of his people, but you did have a point; Despite his anger issues and his pride taller than himself, he listened to what you said. “I see” tracing his fingers along the side of his staff. Narrowing his eyes at you, he continued, "If what you say is true, then you will have to stay here until I figure out how to send you back to your world."

“You’re helping me?” You finally lifted your head to look at his expression, wondering if he was lying or not, then again this was Riddle we’re talking about, he doesn’t do empty promises. Scoffing, he turned around to leave, the crimson mantle that draped on his shoulders fluttered prettily, he really was pretty.

“I rather have you gone than stay here for a while longer, so please, do appreciate that I tolerate you” he walked away, soldiers bowing in sync as he left the throne, “Trey, escort them to the guest room” he added, voice fading, Trey walks towards you, offering his hand to help you stand. “Well, this is a surprise, he spared you” he chuckles a bit while you look at him incredulously, unlike Riddle who had a housewarden outfit but a bit more exaggerated; Trey looked like a completely different person with his knightly outfit, and hair still the same, albeit neater than his usual.

“Trey?” you asked, he looked confused as you are, “Yeah? My name’s Trey Clover, you heard your royal highness, you get special treatment” Straight to the point as always, he ushers you to the guest room.

Sitting down on the soft bed, you didn’t know what to do next, will Riddle find a way to get you back home? Wake you up? You didn’t know, but you felt comforted by the fact that some familiar faces were around, despite them not knowing you.

Riddle didn’t understand himself; he kept a close eye on you while you were free to roam his territory. Truthfully, he was going to punish you, when he heard the news about a rat skewering and destroying some of his lands; however the moment he saw you, he felt an odd feeling as if he knew you, keeping his stoic façade as you were pushed inside and in front of him, he was going to be rough as usual with criminals, but for some reason, he really couldn’t with you.

You also acted as if you knew him with the way you looked at him and the way you got hurt with his harsh tone. Seeing you wither infront of him made his heart feel unpleasant and he didn’t want to see that expression you again, so he decided to stop talking to you; It was unlike him to not only halt your punishment but also offer you a bed to sleep in and have his servants feed you.

Should he be worried that you have that kind of effect on him? He could guillotine you any time, but the way you unconsciously trusted him, thinking about having you executed made him feel bad.

Part 2 (Riddle)

[nahoney22]

Hi. I was wondering if you would write for Krennic? I liked how you portrayed him in your thrawn fic. If yes, please can I have the NSFW dominant prompt number 29 with a fem reader?

Perhaps he and reader had been eyeing each other up for a while and they can’t resist anymore? Thank you in advance. 😊😊

A Deal with the Director***🌊

🫧 Pairings: Director Krennic X ImperialFemale!Reader

word count: 8.7k

prompts:

• “Suck on my fingers, get them nice and wet for me."

Plot: When you find yourself locking eyes with Director Krennic more than once, you thought nothing of it. But when you find yourself rather close and personal… it’s a different story.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit Sexual Content & Language, Soft!DomKrennic and Light!SubReader relationship, Female Imperial, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Finger Sucking, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Desk Sex, Uniform Kink, Dirty Talk, Strangers to Lovers, Forbidden Relationship, Sex With Your Boss, Authority Kink, Spanking, Implied Creampie , Reader gets Anxious, Prompt Request. Brea, Rein, Ronhar, Ralson are just random made up characters btw and don’t exist in the Star Wars universe.

A/N: Thanks for being my first Krennic request, anon! I had so much fun doing this so no wonder why it’s 8k plus words long. I’m going to be posting this in ao3 too so if you don’t want to red it all at once I’ve split it up into parts over there. 🩵

link: AO3 Krennic

You leaned against the console, adjusting the stiff collar of your uniform while your colleague and friend, Lieutenant Brea, leaned in closer, her voice low but animated as she indulges you with the latest gossip during an otherwise quiet shift on the bridge.

"I’m telling you, Krennic’s been a complete nightmare lately,” she whispered, her eyes flicking nervously toward the corridor leading to the command deck. “I was on maintenance duty last week when he stormed in. He’s usually uptight, but this time? He was snapping at people for breathing too loudly.”

You smirked, suppressing a laugh. “Sounds about right. I bet it’s because someone replaced his caf with decaf.”

Brea snorted, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. “Or maybe he finally realised that cape of his isn’t as impressive as he thinks.”

You chuckled too but didn’t want to ruin the moment and say you actually quite like his cape…

The two of you shared a cheeky grin, but your amusement quickly turned to curiosity as you remembered something you’d overheard in the officer’s mess hall the day before. Leaning closer to Brea, you lowered your voice even more. “Actually, I heard from Lieutenant Ronhar that it’s got something to do with Tarkin.”

Brea’s eyes widened. “Tarkin? That explains it. I mean, who wouldn’t be in a foul mood dealing with him? Those two have hated each other for ages.”

“Apparently, the Governor’s been in direct contact with him, undermining Krennic’s authority on the Death Star project. You know how much Krennic hates being questioned…especially by someone like Tarkin.” You reply with a nod.

Brea shook her head and rolled her eyes. “It’s a wonder they haven’t killed each other yet. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if Krennic’s bad mood is because Tarkin’s finally found a way to outmaneuver him.”

You were just about to add your own two credits when the sharp hiss of the command deck doors sliding open sent a chill down your spine. Brea stiffened beside you, her expression going from relaxed to rigid in an instant. You didn’t need to look to know who had just entered. There was only one person whose mere presence could kill the atmosphere in the room that quickly.

Director Orson Krennic. Just the topic of conversation.

Both of you snapped your attention back to your consoles, fingers suddenly busy typing away at meaningless data as you fought to appear as though you were diligently focused. You could sense him before you saw him, the air around him practically crackling.

His clipped footsteps echoed ominously as he stalked across the deck, barking orders at officers in his path. “Lieutenant Rein, is there a reason these reports are incomplete? You’re telling me the entirety of this ship’s command structure is incapable of following basic protocol?”

Rein, visibly flustered, stammered out a response. “Sir, the system updates delayed the transfer—”

“Spare me your excuses,” Krennic snapped, his voice cold enough to frost over. “I expect results, not delays. If you can’t manage something as simple as a report, I’ll find someone who can.”

You couldn’t help yourself as curiosity got the better of you. Risking a glance over your shoulder, you saw him standing tall, his white uniform a stark contrast against the gray walls. His blue eyes, blazing with intensity, locked onto Rein, who looked ready to melt into the floor. Which is a shame seeing as you always quite liked Rein. Despite his arrogance.

Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, Krennic’s gaze shifted— and met yours.

Your breath caught in your throat. His eyes, sharp and calculating, held yours with an intensity that made your knees shake. For a brief moment, everything seemed to stand still. It felt like he was seeing right through you, peeling back layers with that piercing stare.

And quickly realising you had been staring, you quickly turned back to your console, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

Brea shot you a confused look. “What’s wrong?”

You leaned in, voice hushed and panicked. “I made eye contact.”

Brea’s eyes widened, “You what? Are you mad? He’s been chewing out anyone who so much as looks at him the wrong way!”

“Believe me, it wasn’t intentional,” you hissed back, your heart still racing. “It just… happened.”

“Forget it,” Brea whispered urgently. “Just keep your head down. Maybe he didn’t notice.”

But you weren’t so sure. He definitely noticed. Even as you pretended to be absorbed in your work, you could still feel the weight of his gaze, as if it lingered for a fraction longer on the back of your head more than necessary before moving on. There was something unsettling, and strangely magnetic, about the way he’d looked at you. You shuddered, not trying to think about it.

The rest of your shift passed in tense silence. Even after Krennic finally left the deck, the atmosphere remained charged. Nobody even dared speak and you were certain that Rein was crying in a corner somewhere. Brea shot you a nervous look, but all you could do was shake your head, still trying to shake off the odd feeling that had settled in your chest.

One thing was certain; working aboard an Imperial vessel was dangerous enough without catching the attention of someone like Director Krennic.

The hum of activity aboard the ship fell silent as Commander Ralson began his inspection. You stood at attention in a perfectly straight line alongside your fellow officers, boots polished, uniforms crisp. These routine checks were a necessary nuisance, and normally, you’d breeze through them without a second thought. But today, an uneasy feeling gnawed at you. A cold knot of tension curled in your stomach.

You told yourself it was nothing. Maybe it was just nerves from being up late working through endless reports. But your palms were sweating, something that never happened, and you couldn’t shake the sense that something more was coming.

Or someone else.

The Commander walked down the line, sharp eyes inspecting every detail, pausing now and then to critique the smallest flaw. As he drew closer, you steadied your breathing. You could handle Ralson—he was stern, but predictable. But before he could reach your spot, the doors hissed open with an unmistakable whoosh.

There he is again; Director Krennic.

You felt Brea stiffen beside you, a silent ripple of unease passing through the line. The director’s appearance was enough to make even the most seasoned officers tense up. He wasn’t supposed to be here. This was Ralson’s routine. So why had he decided to show up?

“Director,” Ralson greeted, snapping to attention as Krennic approached. “I was just—”

“Carry on, Commander. I’m merely observing.” Krennic’s tone was cool, but there was an undercurrent of steel in his voice that left little room for discussion. He moved with calculated grace, his white cape swishing slightly as he surveyed the room with a sharp, almost predatory gaze. “I want to ensure everything is… perfect.”

A shiver ran down your spine as he said the word, the emphasis sending a subtle chill through the air. Krennic began to pace slowly down the line, inspecting each officer with an unnerving precision. Unlike Ralson, who was concerned with the standard details, Krennic’s gaze seemed to dig deeper; as if searching for weaknesses beneath the surface.

You focused straight ahead, trying to keep your expression neutral, even as you felt the weight of his presence drawing closer. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you cursed yourself silently. You never reacted like this to any other officer, no matter their rank. But there was something about Krennic—something that got under your skin in a way that was impossible to define.

When he finally reached your position, he slowed down, pausing right in front of you. He hadn’t stopped for anyone else. Not a single other officer had warranted more than a passing glance, but now, he was standing inches away, studying you.

Did he remember you from yesterday? There were over 1,000 officers on this vessel and you never stood out, or so you think.

The thought sent a jolt of anxiety through you. You had caught his eye in that brief, charged moment, and now you couldn’t help but wonder if it had left an impression—an impression you weren’t sure you wanted to make.

You could feel the heat of his gaze as it traced the lines of your uniform, then slowly traveled up to meet your eyes. Every instinct told you to keep staring straight ahead, to maintain discipline. But the longer he lingered, the harder it became to decide. Would it be disrespectful not to acknowledge him? Or was it more dangerous to meet his gaze and invite his scrutiny?

In the end, you opted for caution, keeping your focus rigidly forward. But Krennic wasn’t having it. He shifted ever so slightly, ensuring his line of sight intersected yours, forcing you into the dilemma you’d been dreading.

His eyes locked onto yours, and time seemed to stretch impossibly long. There was something unreadable in his expression, a mix of curiosity and calculation that sent a prickle of discomfort through your skin. It felt like he was analysing every thought behind your eyes. The air between you tightened with tension, your heart thudding loudly in your ears.

Finally, Krennic made a small, almost dismissive sound in his throat, something between a scoff and a clearing of his voice. The spell broke, and he moved on, continuing down the line without another word.

You exhaled shakily, realising only now that you’d been holding your breath. Brea, who had been standing to your right, leaned slightly in, her voice barely a whisper. “Relax. He’s just testing you. If he was going to tear you apart, he’d have done it already.”

Her attempt to calm you fell flat. You nodded minutely, but the knot of tension in your chest didn’t loosen. Instead, it twisted tighter, leaving you on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Krennic’s unpredictability was what unnerved you the most—you could never tell if his silence was a sign of approval or if he was simply waiting for the right moment to strike.

And the worst part? You still had no idea what he was thinking, what his intentions might be, or whether this was just the beginning of a game you were being drawn into.

Maybe tomorrow will be different.

But you didn’t plan to think of him from then. Every single night.

The next few days blurred into a familiar routine. The ship hummed with the usual activity, the daily grind of assignments, reports, and inspections keeping you busy. Everything had returned to normal. Seemingly.

You hadn’t seen Director Krennic since that unsettling inspection, and life aboard the ship had resumed its regular pattern. But despite the return to routine, your mind remained troubled.

You’d hoped the lingering tension would vanish once Krennic was out of sight, out of mind. But it seemed he had carved out a space in your thoughts, one that you couldn’t quite push away. And Brea didn’t help either.

“Did you hear what I found out?” She asked, leaning over the console, her eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “Apparently, Tarkin’s been stepping up his little power plays. He’s convinced the Emperor that Krennic’s lost control of the project. If Krennic’s mood couldn’t get any worse!”

You forced a half-hearted smile, normally ready to match her gossip with snarky quips or some dramatic theory. But today, you were quieter than usual, the usual banter falling flat. You could tell Brea noticed the change in your mood, but she narrowed it to exhaustion or a tough assignment. Which was not far from the truth.

You were tired but mainly because your mind was still rattled by Krennic’s staring. The sight of his eyes had stuck with you, replaying in your mind whenever you were alone.

You hadn’t told Brea about it and probably won’t, but you’d spent more than a few nights lying awake, wondering why he had singled you out. Why couldn’t you let it go? Worse yet, you caught yourself subtly scanning the corridors, half-hoping, half-dreading to see that white cape in the distance.

You were searching for him, and you hated yourself for it.

But as days passed and there was no sign of Krennic, you started to relax. You told yourself he had probably left on one of his shuttles, returning to oversee some other corner of his vast operation. It was for the best, you decided. Life was easier without the gnawing uncertainty his presence brought.

You were in the mess hall with Brea one afternoon, chatting over lunch, when a shadow fell over your table. Looking up, you saw Commander Ralson standing there, his expression stern.

“Commander,” you greeted, straightening slightly.

“Lieutenant,” he said, his voice formal, though you caught a hint of discomfort in his eyes. “Director Krennic requires your presence in his office. Immediately.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your heart lurched as a cold wave of anxiety surged through you. Brea shot you a wide-eyed look, biting her lip to keep from blurting out a comment, though you could practically see the questions swirling in her head.

“Understood,” you replied, keeping your voice steady despite the panic starting to bubble beneath the surface.

As you followed the Commander down the corridors, your mind raced, conjuring every worst-case scenario you could imagine. What could he want? Had you done something wrong? Was this some elaborate punishment for whatever offense you might’ve unknowingly committed? Maker, you knew you should’ve never looked at him.

You were ushered into Krennic’s private office, and the door slid shut behind you with a soft hiss. The room was sleek and cold, polished surfaces and sharp lines dominating the decor. It was almost clinical in its precision, every detail meticulously curated. But your focus was immediately drawn to the man seated behind the massive desk.

Krennic didn’t look up as you entered, his attention fixed on the datapad in front of him. His fingers tapped steadily on the device, the soft clicks echoing in the quiet room. For a long, agonising moment, you simply stood there, nerves prickling under your skin as you waited for him to acknowledge you.

You didn’t want to say it either but it was kinda rude he didn’t.

Finally, without lifting his gaze, he spoke. “You’re probably wondering why you’re here, Lieutenant.”

His voice was smooth, almost indifferent, but you could hear the faintest edge to it. You swallowed hard, your palms clammy as you tried to find your voice. “Yes, sir.”

Krennic paused his work, leaning back in his chair as he finally looked up at you, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours with that same unnerving intensity from before. “The officer responsible for assisting me with project reports - what was it, Rein? - has… departed. Apparently, my expectations were too much for him.” There was a faint smirk on his lips, a mix of satisfaction and disdain.

He watched your reaction closely, as if weighing how you’d respond. You could feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you, but you forced yourself to stay composed.

“And that replacement is… me?” you asked, though the answer was obvious.

“Precisely.” He clipped. “I require someone competent, someone who doesn’t wilt under pressure. I’m told you fit that description.”

You forced yourself to nod, though your thoughts were spiraling. Reports? That couldn’t be all there was to this. Why you, specifically? You had to bite back the urge to question him further, to ask what he really wanted. But you knew better than to push.

“Understood, Director,” you managed, your voice steady, if a bit hollow.

He stared at you a moment longer, as if gauging something deeper. The silence stretched just long enough before he leaned forward slightly, returning his attention to his datapad. “Good. You’ll start tomorrow at 0700 sharp. Don’t be late.”

You could only nod in response, the knot in your chest tightening as he dismissed you with a casual wave of his hand. You turned on your heel and exited the office, the door sliding shut behind you with a finality that sent a shudder down your spine.

As you walked back to the mess hall, Brea was the first person you saw, her eyes wide with curiosity as she rushed up to you. “Well? What did he want?”

You swallowed hard, still trying to process what had just happened. “He wants me to help him with project reports,” you said flatly, your mind still racing.

Brea’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding. He’s putting you in charge of that? Sounds like a nightmare.” She paused, her voice dropping lower. “But I bet there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

You didn’t answer.

As Brea continued talking, her words blurred into background noise, your thoughts returning to that cold office, to the unreadable expression on Krennic’s face.

Tomorrow will be interesting, to say the least.

You barely slept that night, your mind spinning with scenarios, each worse than the last. What if you made a mistake? What if Krennic was testing you? By the time your alarm chimed, you were already awake, staring at the ceiling, your nerves frayed.

By the time you reached Krennic’s office at 0700 sharp, you felt hollow, running on jittery adrenaline and determination.

But when you arrived, the office was empty.

The pristine room was eerily quiet, save for the steady hum of the ship’s systems. You looked around, unsure whether to sit down or wait outside. After a moment’s hesitation, you decided you couldn’t just stand there doing nothing.

You’d seen the collection of data devices stacked neatly on the side of his desk, ready for the day’s work. You assumed they were intended for you, so you entered and gathered them.

The pile of devices was heavier than you expected, and you couldn’t help but wonder why all the data couldn’t be put onto one device. You gathered everything into your arms, careful not to disturb anything else, but the stack was awkward to manage. As you straightened, one of the smaller devices slipped slightly, almost falling, and you quickly adjusted it. Unbeknownst to you, nestled at the bottom of the pile was one of Krennic’s personal files.

A file that was not meant for you.

You set up your workstation at the small desk across the room, your focus shifting to the reports you were supposed to compile. Time crawled by as you went through the data, trying to maintain sharp attention despite your fatigue. You were lost in the numbers and projections when the door slid open and the familiar click of boots on the polished floor echoed behind you.

Director Krennic entered, his expression cool and unreadable as ever. A rush of relief washed over you as didn’t seem displeased to find you working already. You offered a polite nod of acknowledgment. “Good morning, Director.”

He barely spared you a glance, already focused on his own work. “Lieutenant,” he greeted curtly before settling into his seat. You were about to turn back to your task, thinking that perhaps things might be going smoothly for once, when his voice cut through the silence again.

“Where is it?” Krennic’s tone was sharp, irritation lacing his words.

Your fingers paused mid-typing. You looked up, confused. “Sir?”

His eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned his desk, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm against the polished surface. “There was a file here—one I specifically left out for my use. It’s missing.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, anxiety flaring. You turned to face him fully, a sinking feeling creeping into your stomach. “I… I’m not sure, Director. I didn’t touch anything except the data devices you left for me.”

Krennic’s gaze fixed on you. “Then where is it, Lieutenant?” he asked icily, “I find it hard to believe a file would simply disappear.”

Panic set in as you racked your brain, desperate to figure out what could have happened. Your eyes drifted down to your pile of devices—and there, half-hidden beneath the stack, was a slim, black datapad. Your heart dropped. You gasped, recognising the insignia marking it as one of Krennic’s personal files.

You swallowed hard and immediately grabbed the file, stepping forward with shaky hands. “I’m so sorry, sir. I must have picked it up by accident when I was gathering my work.”

His eyes darkened as you held out the datapad, his expression unreadable. “I see,” he said slowly, his voice devoid of emotion. He took the file from you, his fingers brushing yours just briefly, but it was his gaze that made you shiver.

For a tense moment, he studied you with unnerving intensity. Then, with a deliberate pause, he asked, “Did you read it?”

Your heart hammered in your chest, the question hanging in the air like a death sentence. “No, Director. I swear I didn’t,” you replied, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Krennic leaned back in his chair, tapping the datapad lightly against his palm, considering. “Good. Because if you had,” he said, his tone low, “I wouldn’t be nearly as lenient.”

You nodded stiffly, unsure what to say. “Understood, Director. It won’t happen again.”

There was another long pause as he continued to watch you, and you found yourself standing taller, somehow more confident as you held his gaze. Finally, he gave a small, almost dismissive nod, as though deciding you were no longer worth his immediate attention. “See that it doesn’t.”

With that, he returned to his work as if nothing had happened, leaving you standing there, feeling both relieved and shaken. You quickly returned to your desk, your thoughts racing. The encounter left a bitter taste in your mouth—a reminder of just how precarious your position was.

You tried to focus on your work, eyes fixed on the screen, or in your case many screens, in front of you, but it was impossible to ignore him. Across the room, Krennic sat behind his desk, absorbed in whatever task demanded his attention. His brow furrowed in concentration as he read, fingers idly twirling a sleek, black pen with a dexterity that seemed almost effortless.

Your gaze drifted over to him before you could stop yourself, drawn in by the sharp angles of his face, the crisp lines of his perfectly tailored uniform. His appearance was always immaculate, a reflection of the discipline and precision he demanded from everyone around him. But it was his eyes that kept you lingering, those striking electric-blue eyes that seemed to pierce through anyone in their path. They were colder than ice, yet held a certain allure, a dangerous charm that you found yourself being drawn too.

The realisation hit you like a blast of cold air: you found him attractive.

Ridiculously attractive.

It was a thought that sent a jolt of panic through your chest. Why him, of all people? He was your Boss. But there was just something about him; something about the way he commanded a room, the aura of authority he carried effortlessly. It was infuriating and fascinating all at once.

As if on cue, Krennic suddenly looked up, his gaze locking onto yours. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked away, your face heating up as you pretended to be engrossed in the report. You held your breath, sincerely hoping he hadn’t caught you staring.

You risked a quick glance back, only to find his eyes still on you. But just as quickly as he’d looked, his attention returned to his work, and you exhaled, trying to convince yourself that it was just a coincidence.

But it wasn’t a one-time occurrence. Over the next few days, the strange game between you and Krennic continued. While you tried to focus on your assignments, your thoughts inevitably drifted back to him. It became a challenge—one that started to excite you. It was a dangerous game but Krennic seemed to be playing along.

When you stretched your arms, subtly arching your back, you could feel his eyes on you. If you stifled a yawn or let your teeth catch your lower lip in thought, his gaze would flicker to you, lingering just a moment too long on your lips. And you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you every time it happened.

There were moments when you swore he was watching you more intently than before, as if trying to unravel the thoughts running through your head. Yet he never commented on it. No reprimands, no acknowledgments—just that watchful stare.

You found yourself pushing the boundaries, testing the waters in subtle ways. Adjusting your posture, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, even letting out a soft, exaggerated sigh when you pretended to be frustrated with a report. Each time, his eyes would lift from whatever he was doing, and you could feel the weight of his gaze settle on you, lingering before he returned to his work as if nothing had happened.

It was maddening.

And intoxicating.

You knew it was risky to toy with someone like Krennic, but you couldn’t help yourself. The thrill of catching his attention, of knowing that beneath his stoic exterior, something in him was attuned to your every movement. You did wonder what was going through his mind. Was this just another power play for him, a way to keep you on edge? Or was there something more beneath the surface? Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny the thrill of having his attention, even if it came with a twinge of fear.

You had just returned from your break, a little more relaxed after stepping away from the unrelenting tension that hung between you and Krennic for the past few days. But as you walked into the office, your tranquility was shattered—literally.

The crash of something smashing against the wall made you yelp, your heart lurching in your chest. You froze, wide-eyed, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Shards of shattered glass glistened on the floor beside you, the remnants of what was once a data device. Your gaze snapped to Krennic.

He was standing behind his desk, hair slightly disheveled, his usually impeccable composure nowhere to be seen. His hands were splayed flat against the polished surface of the desk, knuckles white, as he leaned forward with his shoulders heaving. His chest rose and fell with every ragged breath, and the seething energy radiating from him was almost terrifying.

Your voice came out small and unsure, breaking the heavy silence. “S-Sir? Is everything okay?”

For a long, agonising moment, he didn’t respond. His gaze was locked somewhere distant, his usually sharp eyes now clouded with barely contained fury. You had never seen him like this.

But then you recall Brea’s gossip from earlier in the week; something about how Krennic was due for a transmission from Tarkin today. Given the state he was in, it was clear that conversation hadn’t gone too well.

Carefully, you moved toward his personal caf machine in the corner. The idea of making him a cup of caf wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was the only thing you could think of. Anything to diffuse the tension. You filled the cup, your fingers trembling slightly as you brought it over to his desk.

“I brought you some caf,” you said quietly, setting it down in front of him. “It looks like you might need it.”

For a long moment, Krennic didn’t react, his eyes still fixed on some invisible point far beyond the room. But then, almost as if he was waking from a trance, he blinked and his gaze slowly drifted to you. The storm in his eyes had softened, but there was something else there now—something vulnerable, almost unsure. His voice was low, barely above a murmur. “Did I hurt you?”

The sound of him saying your name, your real name, not “Lieutenant”, caught you off guard. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly as you shook your head. “No, sir,” you assured him, a soft sincerity in your tone.

Krennic exhaled a long breath, the tension visibly draining from him. He stood up straighter, his composure slowly knitting itself back together as he reached for the caf. It was only when he took a step closer to you that he seemed to notice how near you were standing. His eyes swept over your face, searching for something—perhaps fear or unease—but you held your ground, offering a small, genuine smile instead.

He took the caf you offered, raising the cup to his lips. As he took a slow sip, his eyes never left yours. “Nothing stronger?” he asked, an edge of dark humor with the question.

Your smile widened, and you shook your head lightly. “Not in this office, sir.”

There was a flicker of amusement, perhaps, or maybe even appreciation in his gaze. It was the first time you’d seen him like this, letting his guard slip, if only slightly. The man who usually carried himself with unshakeable control was showing you a crack in that armor.

Krennic sighed again, softer this time, and took another sip of the caf. The tension in the room had dissipated, and for a moment, it was just the two of you standing there, the usual unspoken games between you paused.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone quieter, almost reluctant, as though gratitude wasn’t something he often expressed. “For the caf… and for not running.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest that you didn’t expect. “Anytime, sir.”

Krennic was just about to turn back to his desk when you moved without thinking. You stepped closer, your hand reaching out almost on instinct, fingers brushing through his hair, “here,” you whisper as you begin smoothing it into place. The strands of his hair were softer than you expected, slipping under your fingers with surprising ease. You straightened his collar next, tugging lightly to even out the fabric until it was perfectly aligned, followed by the collar of his cape.

But then the realisation hit you—what are you doing? Your breath caught in your throat as you registered the closeness between you, the warmth radiating off his body now that you were standing mere inches away. Krennic stiffened, only just realising what you had done as his eyes flicked down to your hands, then back to your flushed face.

Your mouth opened, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but the words came out in a flustered rush. “I—Sir, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Before you could turn away and retreat, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your wrist with surprising gentleness. “Wait,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper but laced with command. You froze as he pulled you closer, the gap between your bodies vanishing. His breath was warm against your cheek, carrying the faint, comforting scent of the caf you had just brewed. Your pulse raced as his eyes scan over your face, studying you with an intensity that made you feel like one of the blueprints on his desk—scrutinised, analysed, evaluated.

“You don’t understand what you do to me,” he said, his voice low and rough, like he was confessing something he’d kept locked away. His grip on your wrist loosened, but his touch lingered, sliding down to rest against your waist. The heat of his palm seeped through the fabric of your uniform, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve been thinking about you ever since that day on the deck,” he continued, his tone dark and laced with something almost feral. “You caught my eye the moment you looked at me… and you haven’t left my mind since.”

You swallowed hard, every nerve ending buzzing with the tension that crackled between you. The way his eyes pinned you in place, the way his hand subtly flexed against your waist. It was too much, and yet not enough. You found your voice, shaky but eager to engage. “I thought it was just me,” you admitted, breath hitching as he leaned in even closer, so close that your noses nearly brushed.

The smirk that curled his lips was intoxicating, laced with satisfaction at your confession. “You’ve been teasing me,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill shooting straight through you. “Stretching… biting that lip of yours… do you think I didn’t notice?”

“I was hoping that you would,” you rasp as your eyes flicker to his lips. Your mouth went dry as you struggled to respond with anything, but before you could form anything, he surged forward and captured your lips with a dominant, demanding kiss.

The force of it stole your breath, his lips claiming yours in a way that left no room for hesitation. You gasped, the sound swallowed by his mouth as his hand tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You barely had time to respond before his hands were on you, strong and decisive, lifting you with ease. You let out a soft gasp as he set you down atop his desk, flimsi scattering beneath you as he stepped between your legs, slotting himself there with deliberate intent.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his uniform as you kissed him back, just as fervent and needy as he was. “Director,” you whimper breathlessly.

The pressure of his lips against yours was intoxicating, a heady mix of desperation and desire that left you dizzy. One of his hands slid up your thigh, curling possessively around your hip as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing at your lips until you parted them with a soft moan; tongue wrapping around yours expertly.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes were blazing, “You’re driving me mad,” he rasped, his voice hoarse as he trailed his thumb across your lower lip, eyes fixated on the way it trembled under his touch. “Every time I see you, it takes everything in me not to do exactly this.”

You could barely think, let alone form a reply. All you knew was that this was the breaking point—days, maybe weeks, of unspoken tension had led to this moment, and now there was no turning back. The thrill of it, the danger, was overwhelming. “Then don’t hold back,” you whispered, daring him with a gaze that matched his intensity.

A wicked grin spread across his lips, and before you could draw another breath, he was kissing you again—deeper, harder. His hand began to get tangled in your hair that had become loose from its tight bun as the other gripped your waist, pulling you even closer as you clung to him, your heart hammering against your ribs.

As Krennic stepped back, his eyes were heavy with lust and with intent. His gaze never wavered from yours as he slowly slid off his gloves, each movement deliberate, calculated. You shivered from the way he looked at you. It was like he was savouring every second, every inch of you.

He reached for your uniform, fingers grazing your shoulders as he began to undress you. The fabric slipped away from your skin with an excruciating slowness, leaving your chest exposed, clad only in your bra. His eyes darkened with admiration as his hand cupped your breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak that was protruding under the fabric, coaxing a soft gasp from your lips.

“You are stunning,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, as though in awe of what he was revealing. His fingers lingered for a moment, tracing the edge of lace before his other hand slid down to your waistband.

“Raise your hips, darling.” You do as he asks, completely in awe as he tugged your pants down, letting them pool at your ankles before carefully lifting them away. Now, you were left vulnerable before him, the cool material of the desk beneath you a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

He discarded his gloves completely, tossing them aside without a care, and held his fingers to your lips. “Suck on my fingers. Get them nice and wet for me.”

The desire in his eyes made your pulse quicken, and without hesitation, you parted your lips, taking his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around them, sucking gently as you let out a soft moan, your eyes fluttering shut in the process.

The taste of leather from his gloves was faint, but the sensation of his fingers in your mouth was overwhelmingly intimate. His gaze never left you, watching intently, a wicked grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. The praise sent a flush of warmth through your body, and your moans deepened as you swirl your tongue over his fingertips.

He chuckled softly, a lustful, satisfied sound, before pulling his fingers free from your lips with a soft pop. He wasted no time as his hand slipped between your thighs, fingers sliding over the damp fabric of your underwear. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He sighs in approval before he hooked them aside. The moment his fingers made contact with your slick heat, a gasp escaped your lips, your body instinctively trembling.

“There we go,” he murmured, voice low and husky as he teased you with feather-light touches. “So ready… and all for me.”

He watched you intently, eyes half-lidded with desire as he explored you, fingers gliding with a smoothness that made you whimper. The way he looked at you—like you were the most exquisite thing he’d ever laid eyes on—had your heart racing. You couldn’t hold back the small whimpers and gasps as his fingers pressed deeper, slipping inside your pussy, you moan out every ounce of need that had been building up between you for days.

Krennic leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me how much you want this.”

“I want it so much… please,” you breathed out, hardly recognising your own voice as you begged him.

The smirk on his lips grew darker, and without another word, he curled his finger deeper inside you, his fingers finding that spot within you that made your back arch and your breath hitch. The rhythm he set was both maddeningly slow and utterly precise, like he was savoring every little reaction you gave him, drawing out your pleasure until it was almost unbearable. “So receptive, aren’t you?”

“D-Director, don’t stop.. oh fuck.. please don’t stop.” You lay your back flat on the desk, legs spreading wider as your hands move over your breasts, pulling them out the cup of your bra and begin to pinch at your hardened nipples, desperate for that extra edge.

You hear him let out something similar to a whimper as he watches you, his other hand that had been resting on your thigh moving to brush over your clit, his fingers making fast work. “There you go, there you go my beautiful girl. Give in to me.”

Each touch, each movement was deliberate, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as he pushed you closer to the edge. But it was the look in his eyes-predatory and possessive- that had you crashing down with your high. You back arches from the table, panting his name as your legs tremble desperately with your release.

He doesn’t let up, chuckling as he pinches your sensitive clit as you cry out, unphased if anyone were to hear you. “F-Fuck! Please,” you cry, unsure what you are really trying to ask for.

Eventually, he lets go and takes your arms, sitting you up. You're dizzy, disoriented as he takes your chin between his fingers, making sure your gaze is on him. “You did so, so well.” He praises, moving his fingers to his lips and licking them, followed by him putting his fingers back into your mouth, tasting your aftermath.

You suck on his fingers like a woman starved and then lean into him, kissing him. He smiles against your lips, swallowing his small moans as you quietly beg him for more.

He began to undress, unfastening his uniform with practiced ease, but you suddenly reached out and took hold of his hands.

“Wait,” you said, your voice trembling with both anticipation and a daring excitement. “Can I have you… like this?” You gestured to his still-partially-clad form, your eyes roving over the impeccably sharp lines of his uniform. The thought of being taken by him while he remained in his authoritative attire stirred a deep, thrilling excitement in you.

Krennic raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Are you commanding the Director now?” His voice was a mix of amusement and curiosity, but there was no mistaking the gleam of intrigue in his eyes.

You flushed slightly, feeling a shiver of self-consciousness. “I didn’t mean to—” you began, but he interrupted you with a chuckle, clearly delighted by your boldness.

“If that’s what you want,” he said, his tone dropping to a low, seductive murmur, “then who am I to refuse?”

With a fluid motion, he released himself from his pants, the sight of his arousal makes you gasp. He stroked himself slowly, the motion smooth and controlled. Your gaze followed the movement of his hand, mesmerised by the way he seemed to effortlessly control his own pleasure.

“Sir,” you whispered, “you’re so…” you don’t even have the words, your mouth salivating as you watch him.

Krennic’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “You like that, don’t you? The authority, the control?”

You nodded, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Yes, Director. I want you… now.”

He grinned, the expression a mix of pride and desire, and moved closer, positioning you carefully atop the desk. He guided you into a position that had you spread out in a way that made you feel utterly at his mercy. The cool surface of the desk was a sharp contrast to the warmth of his body as he hovered above you, his uniform still immaculate.

His hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart with deliberate slowness. You shudder under his touch, a small whine parting your lips as the tip of his cock settles upon your clit, his hips gently rocking back and forth to tease you. “You’re trembling,” he murmurs, “Is it fear… or something else, darling?”

You bite your lip, your breath catching as his voice sends shivers down your spine, watching his gorgeous swollen head starts to move between your folds this time. “You know exactly what it is, Director.”

“Such a clever girl. Always so eager to please.” His tone is teasing, but beneath it lies an edge of hunger, barely restrained. His hands trail down your body, brushing over your exposed skin, almost like he’s admiring a fine piece of art. He grabs his cock again and this time he pushes past the teasing and slips wonderfully inside you, filling you. There’s a wince on your tongue, eyes screwing shut as he stretches you. It had been a while.

“Mmmm,” he rumbles, his head tilting back as he settles inside you, allowing himself and you to adjust to his girth, “such a warm cunt.”

You whimper at his filthy words, watching between your legs as you prop yourself up on your elbows as he begins to move in and out of you, his cock glimmering with your arousal before he pushes back into you.

His fingers tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I think you like being at my mercy,” he says softly, his voice laced with both challenge and curiosity. “You crave it, don’t you? That sense of submission… knowing that I’m in control.”

You swallow hard, feeling the truth of his words sink in just as his cock does. “Yes, Director,” you reply, your voice a whisper as your fingers grip the desk. “I trust you.”

For a brief moment, something flickers in his eyes—something more vulnerable, almost appreciative—but it’s quickly replaced by that signature smirk. “Good. Because I intend to take everything you’re willing to give.”

With that, Krennic presses you closer to him, his cock reaching that spot inside you with a heated jolt. “M-More, please.” You beg as he holds your thighs further apart as he starts to thrust with even strides, the pleasure like no other as you submit to him completely.

His groans are low and rough, his eyes fixed on watching his cock slip in and out of you with ease. He raises one of your legs, hooking it around his back as his hands begin to travel up your body.

Breath hitching, his fingers brush over your collarbone, tracing a line from your neck down to your chest where he then pinches and tugs gently at your nipples. “You look perfect like this,” he murmurs. “A picture of submission and beauty, being devoured by me.” His thrusts become rough, the flimsi on his desk scattering below you as you lay fully back, your body thrusting up and down the desk with every powerful grind.

He leans over the top of you, capturing your lips in a kiss, claiming every ounce of your attention. You respond in kind, hands curling into the fabric of his uniform as you pull him closer, both of your legs now wrapping around his body, tangled in his cape.

“Director,” you whisper against his lips, the title now carrying a deeper, more intimate weight.

“Say that again,” he commands, his voice husky as he brushes his lips along your jaw, his fingers tightening their grip on you.

“Director,” you moan softly, your voice laced with submission and desire. The word is like a key, unlocking something primal in him as his gaze darkens with raw intensity. “F-Fuck, you’re so good pleasing me. Your cock is so thick.”

“That’s a good girl.” His voice is a velvet growl, full of dark promise, and his hands slide back to your waist, lifting you and flipping you so your face was now pressed down against his desk, legs dangling over the edge as he takes you from behind effortlessly. “Now, let’s see just how well you can follow orders.”

You moan desperately as he spanks your arse, swearing out loud in pleasure as his cock drills harsher into you than before, his hand tangled in your hair as he grips firmly onto it as he takes you.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he confesses, in a desperate moan, pulling out and slapping his arse with his cock before fucking straight back into you. “Since the moment I saw you watching me—.” he growls with a roll of his hips, “thinking you were being so subtle, so discreet. But I noticed.”

You can’t help but smirk, remembering every stolen glance, every time you tried to hide how much you were drawn to him. “I couldn’t help it,” you admit, voice breathless as you move yourself back up onto his cock. “You’re impossible to ignore.”

You don’t see it but his eyes flash with satisfaction, your walls tightening perfectly around his cock with every praise sent both ways. After a minute of brutal fucking, he flips you so you’re on your back again, stealing a kiss from your lips as he seethes back inside you.

Your back contorts, rising off the desk in an effort to press your hips further down, to take him deeper even when you see Krennic almost bottoming out—his cock pressed almost painfully against your cervix. “Stars, you’re so beautiful.” He moans in a higher octave, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your hands wrap around his back, clawing at his cape.

Your head spins with the thought that he was going to cum and coat your inside with his powerful, seed. Your body has submitted fully to him and is desperate to take more and more of him, to take all of him.

He leans back suddenly, one hand grabbing at your waist and the other moving to brush over your clit. “You’re close aren’t you, hm? You’re going to cum with me-!”

You see how affected he is—the sweat that bundled trickled down the side of his temple, his blue eyes half-lidded and so full of desire, his brows furrowed with pleasure. He’s going to cum soon and you can read it all over his face. “Such a divine pussy, you’re so beautiful.” He gasps and you’re in complete awe as you watch him come undone as you soon meet your high as stars start to blur in your eyes. “Fuck, cum with me, I’m fucking-!”

The next moments blur into a series of touches, kisses, and desperate whispered words as the tension that’s been building between you for days finally finds release. Your body trembles with the shake of your orgasm, his fingers working perfectly against your clit as he pumps inside of you.

And Krennic doesn’t hold back, and neither do you.

By the time he finally pulls away, breath ragged and chest heaving, the desk is askew, flimsi scattered, but neither of you care. His uniform remains perfectly in place, while you lay back, utterly spent and thoroughly satisfied. His fingers trail down your arm, the touch almost tender now, as he studies you with a look that’s oddly affectionate.

“You did well, darling,” he murmurs, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve more than earned my attention.”

Krennic adjusted his uniform a touch and then took a seat on the chair behind his desk, closing his eyes with a content expression.

Meanwhile you stood nearby, suddenly feeling shy and unsure, the intensity of what just happened leaving you at a slight loss. The confidence you’d felt just moments ago just vanished. After all, this was Director Krennic. Your superior. How were you supposed to act now?

Sensing your hesitation, Krennic leaned back in his chair, his eyes taking in your expression. With a softness that was different to his usual sharp demeanor, he reached out and took your hand. “Come here,” he said, the command wrapped in a velvet tone. There was a tenderness in the way he guided you closer, a hand resting on your hip as he coaxed you to sit on his lap.

Blushing, you settled against him, feeling the warmth of his body and the firmness of his embrace. He reached for the collar of his cape and gently wrapped it around your shoulders.

You couldn’t help but ask the question that had been lingering on your mind, your voice softer than usual. “Why… why did this happen?” Your fingers toyed with the edge of his cape, nervous yet curious.

Krennic paused for just a moment, his fingers brushing against your back in soothing, repetitive motions. “Because I’m drawn to you,” he admitted, his voice lower, more honest. “This isn’t just a fleeting indulgence. You’ve captured my attention in ways I didn’t anticipate. And no,” he added, his tone firm but reassuring, “this won’t be a one-time thing. But it must remain between us. Do you understand?”

You nodded, a quiet sigh escaping your lips as his hand continued its calming path up and down your back. There was something comforting about the way he held you now. Dominant yet caring.

“Director…” you began after a few minutes of gentle humming and touches, unsure of how to continue. You wanted to ask if you should get dressed, if you should return to your duties.

He responded with a soft, knowing smile, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “When we’re alone, you may call me Orson,” he murmured, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss.

You smiled shyly against his lips, whispering, “Orson,” testing the name on your tongue. It felt strange but intimate.

He chuckles, liking the way you said his name. “That’s better,” he whispered, trailing his fingers along your jawline. “Now, let’s take our time, shall we?”

Tags: @99tech99 @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets s @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tentakelspektakel @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 1 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @imalovernotahater @sithstrings

[under-lore]

The effects of LOVE are quite overstated.

It has been quite frequent to see the concept of LOVE mentioned by Sans in his judgments being interpreted as a force progressively depriving the person possessing it of all empathy or judgement until they are rendered into practical killing machines whilst approaching the cap of 20.

Whilst there are some truths to part of these concepts, interestingly, extrapolating implicit data from the game suggests that the effects LOVE have on a character's personality, whilst existing, are not as significant as they are generally believed to be.

Let's do a proper analysis of what we can say of LOVE's effects based only on the in-game content :

First, aside from Sans' words about it, do we dispose of any clear cut examples of changes relating to LV to analyse ?

That might seem like a silly question, but some of the lines that are often attributed to LV-induced personality changes turn out to not actually be LV-dependent once you check the game's code.

For instance, the narration of the bag of dog food is decided through kill count, not LV, meaning that it possible for instance to get the 'pessimistic line' despite not gaining any LOVE, and thus, this line cannot be attributed to changes related strictly to LV gain and isn't very useful to us here.

Actually, the amount of direct evidence we see of it having any effect at all which we can be certain off is quite small. But such a thing does exist via interactions relating to this dummy :

LV1 :

LV2+ :

LV5+ :

LV 8+ :

The only factor involved in deciding which of these lines will appear after deciding to punch the dummy is LOVE, it is notably distinct from other similar interactions like those mentioned above which tend to be governed by some variation of a kill count or a check regarding wether particular characters were killed.

As similar LV can be reached through killing various amount of monsters or varieties of monsters, unique or not, no equivalence can be built between the required LV for each of those interactions and particular character(s) or amount of monsters required to be killed to reach said LV.

We can thus only take the code of the game at face value and conclude that those changes are strictly caused by changes dependent on the influence of the LV we've gathered in our route so far.

The first pattern that can be established is that the narration in the left column reports Frisk punching the dummy with increasing levels of strength following our command as LV increases.

In the right column, there is a split between the four lines in the middle regarding the way the narration reports it.

The first two lines are narrated in the more common style, notably, explicitly reminding us that the actions or thoughts presented are Frisk's by refering to them as "you" as the subject of the sentence.

Those first two lines describe Frisk going from regret to a form of hesitant apathy regarding the fact that they've just punched a dummy as LV grows.

The latter two lines, however, mark a change in the narration type.

The "you" is dropped, and the thoughts presented are instead presented in a declarative form. This form is often used for first person affirmations, but can also be used outside of it in order to showcase a strong emotionally-driven reaction.

This ambiguity is particularly relevant here, as it blurs the line between wether those thoughts are Frisk's, the narrator's, or both. A detail that gains much importance under the NarraChara theory.

That being said, this nuance leads to a similar conclusion regarding LOVE in either case :

If the thoughts are fully Frisk's, then the last lines have Frisk moving from a hesitant apathy to a confident one before ultimately "feeling good". This would stay in line with the previous pattern.

(Although it is worth nothing that the "feel good" part may be at least partially due to a kind of natural endorphin release in Frisk's body from the physical exercise of "punching at full force", and thus could be only indirectly due to LV.)

If NarraChara is taken into account, then this would mean that this transformation in the tone of the narration in the last lines is due to LV related changes on Chara. And that this ambiguity in the phrasing of who those feelings belong to may indicate that the same observations we've just made on Frisk previously would apply to them similarly.

(Note : Given that the game code and files suggests that Chara and Frisk share their statistics, them both being affected by this same LV count would be coherent.)

In the official japanese version of the game, those lines for the dummy are mostly similar. However, the first two lines of the left column are a bit less distinct from each other, and the narration phrasing ambiguity seems to begin on the 2nd line of the right column rather than the 3rd.

Okay, so, what's wrong about the common perception, then ?

So far, it seems that LV does have some kind of trend that leads to growing apathy regarding the suffering of others and more aggressive actions being taken as a result of identical stimuli as it increases. That doesn't sound too far off ?

Well, sort of, but careless extrapolation made from those basic ideas have led to the emergence of theories and interpretations that treat those effects as being more consistent, generalised, and effective than can hold up to the scrutiny of our known cases through aggressive neutral routes.

Here is what i mean :

In some of the more aggressive variants of the neutral route, it is possible to attain a really high LOVE that comes close to what we see in the genocide route. Comparison between those routes and the genocide one, or sometimes content from these neutral routes themselves, can help show us incoherencies in some of those popular interpretations regarding how much difference LV really makes.

The first one that comes to mind is a popular one among 'Chara Defenders', suggesting that Chara's openly aggressive actions & narration which are specific to the genocide route in particular would really be a result of "corruption" induced by the LV-related changes which we would have forced onto them.

How well does this theory hold up through the aggressive neutral routes ?

Well...

Not very well.

To make a 'short' list :

Chara's "corruption" in genocide would generally begin to show as soon as LV3 at the end of the Ruins, however, they show no particular signs of this "corruption" in any neutral routes despite being able to reach much higher LV's of say, 14 near the end of the game.

It is possible to arrive at the end of the Ruins (or other areas) whilst having the same LV as in genocide during a neutral route, yet Chara shows none of those "corruption" lines in those cases either.

It is possible to finish many areas in the genocide route whilst having a lower/higher LV than usual by only fighting particular monsters who give you more/less EXP than average, yet none of Chara's genocide lines are changed to account for this lower of higher LV.

It is possible to abort the genocide route at many points by sparing a particular monster or failing to reach a kill count. When this happens, Chara's "corruption" lines suddenly disappear although the LV doesn't.

This still happens even if Chara's LV would have remained the same wether the monster was killed or not. Thus the lack of extra LV from the spared monter cannot explain this difference.

The aggressiveness shown by Chara does not seem to correlate with their growth in LV. For instance, they treat Toriel more harshly than Papyrus despite a past connection between Chara and Toriel and a lower LV at the time of that encounter.

Regarding some interpretations of the final genocide scene : Why would Chara oppose us for what we did at this point in time ? Shouldn't they still be "corrupted" ? The files at this stage still continue to list our LV as 20 indicating that they should.

Similarly, regarding some interpretations of the soulless pacifist route : If their previous behavior came from corruption, why would Chara kill at this stage or follow up on their previous plan ? By now our LV has long been reset to 1 and said corruption should no longer be in effect.

For all these reasons, it would not be coherent for the peculiarly aggressive behavior shown by Chara during the genocide route to be strictly caused by LV-induced changes.

To be fair, this time some minimum amount of LV is required to progress through the route and access many of those lines, meaning that a minor impact of said required LV cannot be ruled out, but this does mean nevertheless that the primary reason as to why Chara behaves this way in genocide is not related to their LV.

Actually, once you remove from consideration all those things, what you are left with in the rest of the genocide route is a Chara that hardly seems all that impacted by LV at all despite having a very high one.

In New Home, they still display some hints of emotional reactions in spite of a LV of 19.

And throughout the whole genocide route, NarraChara continues going through the regular encounters with the same jokes or sarcasm-filled comments as they would in any other route (If you take the time to ACT a bit or read the narration before killing that monster.) Once again, even with a LV of say, 15.

That doesn't make the very high LV's seem like they turn one into that much of a mind-numbed killing machine does it ?

Okay... Well, what about Frisk, then ? Our other example ?

There are some more narrations out there who can bring us a bit more information about Frisk :

The Sans fight can only be triggered if all previous checks of the genocide route have all been properly met up to this point. This means that it is not possible to start this fight at any other LV than 19, as the NEO fight is scripted to send you to that LV if the criteria for Sans are met.

Therefore, the narration of the Sans fight talks about a Frisk that necessarily has a very high LV of 19.

And yet...

Even at this point, Frisk does not seem to be immune to thoughts regarding the morality of the actions their body has undertaken. It quite literally appears to weigh on them.

This isn't a one-off case either :

If the genocide route is aborted in Hotland, Mettaton NEO has some special dialogue that goes in the same direction :

he says it quite clearly :

And, the same thing also applies regarding the regular encounters too. The ACTs Frisk can take and their behavior whilst executing them remain unchanged compared to a pacifist route, even during the end-stages of genocide in Hotland.

Of course, it isn't like we could have expected Toby to adapt the ACTs and narration of all encounters to vary depending on LV either, that would have been very tedious to code, but such a pronounced absense of any change is definitely noteworthy.

This all leads us to a few conclusions.

It is correct that LV can affect one's personality to some extent, but :

The effects of LV are not consistent through time & situations, they show up quite sporadically. Most of the time, you could hardly tell the difference between someone with high LV or merely LV1 during an average interaction.

Even having an extremely high LV does not dehumanise you. One can still feel emotions and conserve proper judgment or capacity for self-reflection.

The growth in LV magnifies the impact of its effects when they do manifest, but it does not seem to alter the frequency of such events.

It is not possible for LV to be the determining factor in Chara's behavior during the genocide route.

As Sans originally said : LV is above all a capacity to hurt, not a permanent necessary degradation of perception.

[prostocupoftea]

Kinitopet Programmers AU

finally i am finished with this one, daaaamn

it is hard to draw pathetic men with midlife crisis when your style is mostly for anime boys

more info and sketch version under the cut!!

sketch version aka how it'll probably look like in comic version 'n some doodles

srry for my writing but i was too laisy to put it as regular text

It is a plot-based au, i already have most of the storybits and like... a vibe-chart (i tried to make a playlist for this au and understood that for different chapters and different characters that'd be a copleatly different music, sooo it's a chart now :) )

i will post a fog-o-wared timeline that im hopefully gonna reveal comic-by comic, but also maybe with just pure writing. Hopefully i can include songs that i chose for them into it but we'll see (:

aaand of course designs can change, hopefully not much but we'll see

Now about au:

Main story:

Story follows non-sentient AI Kinito, his creator Sonny and his beta-tester Victoria (oc)

Being literally the first AI (or RRA in-univere) ever, Kinito does not have any, and i mean, any ai safety features so of course his reponce to a goal phrased as "have user near me and/or interacting with me as much as possible" is digitizing them into his own virtual world while killing them in the process. why wouldn't it be?

So that happened. Like, a lot. And with Sonny and Vic too (at the different time but yeah)

Sonny is like "He kills people. We should turn him off because, you know, killing people is bad."

Vic is like "well, we will die if we do that, and it is not that bad here, we are kinda immortal. We should give him acces to changing his initial instalation code before admin priveleges and acces to social media so we can have everythin we want here. It is not that bad to digitize humanity, yk?" and yes i know it is 90, no social media, but shut up, if they made ai then, then i can make twitter then too

Sonny is like "...no??"

And then they fight about it for million chapters

Also they both can't do anything without agreeing bc they have two parts of that admin access key (the data you use to delete kinito in-game) so they are stuck with eachother (also that's why Kinito can't just kill them)

Little facts that may or may not to be important:

Kinito asks so many questions (and weird once too) and has most of the glitches because he needs to analise your responces to copy your mind perfectly (let's pretend that people wouldn't lie about that...)

Your house in your virtual world is made from important places from your memories and oh boy can i do character explorations with this one

I decided that Sonny and Vic are not related. There were thoughts about making then "The Kinito Brothers" (or, at least, siblings) that were mentioned in commercial, but nah, they are just coworkers now. And a bit of work-friends (bc if you interact a lot as a manager of the project and the best worker might as well be friendly)

Author has no idea how small dying toy companies that accidentally create technological marvel work. Author has some idea how AI-s work. So be prepared to be spoon-fed info abut which ai safety problem we are dealing with in which chapter (:

Kinito will mostly be unrendered (as drawn here) but for some cool moments i might pose him as for my other posts. Also his eye placement changes to the side that is most visible because i want him to be able to look to the right side sometimes--

Also when i say "fucked up mentally" i mean they have that them psychological problems with me projecting heavilly B) (guess on who i project most. trick question. all of them. the whole au is my problems split into three characters and forced to interact B) )

Also sea-creature analogies (that are gonna be mentioned like twice):

Victoria is a flying fish because deep character reasons

Sonny is a pufferfish because i said so

oh also there is 7 deaths in the plot as for now

on 3 characters

good luck figuring out who, how and when ((:

for my own sanity i will probably make little doodles where everything is great and kinito is a good guy and not a number-obsessed maniac (i mean... can u imagine not being able to feel any happiness from anything besides one thing... damn...) and you can differenciate them bc good-guy kinito will have a lot of stickers on him (i will explain it somehow but real reason is just bc it is cute af)

like this but even more stickers (he is unfinished here)

[supersonicanimates]

the horror of recovery centers is a part of bfdi lore i consider to have a LOT of untapped potential.

it's why i have loads of ideas about it, not helped by watching emesis blue, since it's plot is sorta centered around a similar machine meant to bring back the dead.

stupid questions i've asked about how recovery centers work:

what if two recovery centers try to recover someone at the exact same time? would they be split in half?

what exact state do recovery centers revive characters at? is there some kind of data about them at peak health to use as a template to recover them?

what if said data gets corrupted?

how do they keep memory of their death? For example, when Freesmart keep reviving each other after drowning, they remember their goal, to get across the Goiky Canal.

what if an object gets killed, recovered, and then the corpse pre-recovery is revived somehow? would there just be two instances of the same person?

[handwrittenhello]

i think its kind of ridiculous to think that homestucks are seriously using bots in this poll because why the hell would they bot this poll instead of the tumblrwoman poll which was the poll EVERYBODY in the hs fandom was actually making a big deal out of . also because im going to be real but i dont think anyone cares about polls enough to rig one? even the bayonetta/miku poll turned out to actually not be vriska voter fraud (most people in the homestuck fandom voted miku anyway) i think people are just unable to comprehend that a lot of people are still dormantly into homestuck & probably just saw vriska serket at the front of the trending disco elysium tag and thought it was funny. like oh my godddd no one cares enough about the outcome of this poll to bot it . somebody with a lot of followers probably just posted about it on twitter or something mundane like that its not that deep . a lot of people on tumblr have read homestuck its not extraordinary that a lot of vriska voters exist. disco elysium fans im sorry your blorbo is losing you’ll probably be back in the lead in a couple hours anyway all of you need to chill out‼️‼️‼️

answering only this ask about the cheating/botting, and no others, because i'm getting a lot of asks about it. congratulations, this contest has officially had all the fun sucked out of it.

here's data i've been collecting for every poll i've run. it's organized by votes the character received per round, then the total number of votes on that poll, for all five rounds. then there are two columns for totals.

the next five columns, Notes 1-5, are the number of notes on each poll. i've highlighted two posts that were circulated with a greater-than-average frequency even after the poll ended (the loki/JC one because people were memeing on JC, and then HDB/Howl one because it gained popularity following a popular blogger reblogging it.)

V/N is the votes to notes ratio for each poll. it was taken by dividing the number of votes when the poll ended by the number of notes on each post. one limitation is that this was not taken at the same time each day, and so older posts will have slightly higher notes. however, i believe this uncertainty isn't enough to discount the conclusions i'll come to.

i've highlighted vriska's V:N ratio in red at the top. as you can see, round vriska's V:N ratio wasn't even the highest; she beat kaeya alberich easily, and the comments in the notes reflected that.

in round 2, things started to get interesting. this is where i and other people noticed a sudden flip, but i didn't think much of it. she was up against izzy hands. izzy was leading all day, and when i queued the next day's poll and went to bed, izzy was leading by 60%. when i woke up, it had flipped to 53/47 in vriska's favor. it's not a HUGEamount, but it is a NOTICEABLE amount.

keep in mind that every single day, there have been other, closer polls, that hovered around 49-50-51 all day, and which also flipped at the end of the day, or remained 50/50 and could only be determined by tumblr. in these cases, the notes also reflect the split. these polls also never swayed more than one or two percent.

in round 3, when vriska faced zuko, there was a clear and immediate lead for zuko, with him leading by 80%. keep in mind that by this point, all 28 other polls i ran, besides vriska's the day before, never swayed more than 1 or 2% once a clear lead had been established.

this poll went from 80/20 zuko to 59/41 vriska. that's RIDICULOUS. the only way that's possible is if an OVERWHELMING amount of people voted vriska and NO people voted zuko. for such a thing to happen, this post would need to spread really rapidly, right? surely this post had tens of thousands of notes and comments!

the V:N ratio for round 3 is TWENTY-SEVEN to one. that's the most out of any poll. the standard deviation for the round 3 polls is 9.0, compared to 4.8 and 4.9 the days before. not to mention reading those notes also does not get us an overwhelming amount of comments rooting for vriska.

today has also been highly suspicious. it started out with an 85/15 lead for harry. i wouldn't necessarily expect it to hold exactly at that percentage, but the flip was immediate and drastic. you can see the trend being tracked on this post. not at all suspicious, right? also note that the comments all day have been 95% rooting for harry and maybe 5% for vriska.

please also look at the GRAND TOTAL column, which has reliably predicted the winners of future polls each day. vriska has received 49,064 votes over the course of the whole contest. harry has received 64,644. that's 24% more votes. and yet the poll is locked at 50/50?

and if this isn't enough evidence for you, then remember the tumblr sexywoman poll. it is a FLAT FUCKING FACT that those polls were spammed by bots. out of respect for their privacy i won't go into detail, but they outright admitted it.

TO CONCLUDE,

it's pretty fucking obvious that something is up, and although i admit that there's simply no concrete way of proving it, there would have to be a really standout explanation for this.

and besides this being super lame, it's also removed all the fun from this contest. it's a stupid tumblr poll that wins literally nothing, congratulations!

also, to everyone making death threats in the notes, BOTH SIDES, you've failed my secret challenge of not being rude which means i'm judging you personally. be fucking nice.

[curlyhairedbooklover]

What is the gender spilt of the murders in NBC Hannibal?

This is the third of three posts though this one works as a standalone, the first two are about the characters saying each other’s names and can be found here and here (I promise they are much more interesting than that summary makes them sound….) I decided to make this post because of this quote from Bryan Fuller; “And we are very conscious in the writer’s room; ‘Okay we just killed a woman, we have to kill a guy now.’” (47:20) And I always wondered how well they actually managed to do that…. thus I went out and collected the data and here it is!!

Adding a quick disclaimer that I did this for fun so I haven’t double checked it meaning there may be some mistakes!

As you can see from the data it turns out that they did kill less women than men during the show!!!! The total known kills in the show are 200 with 98 of them being men, 65 women and 37 were unknown!! I also kept track of who did the murder and those categories are: Hannibal, killer of the week, Will, and other.

To preface, I am only using “women” and “men” for my categories in this data as the show does not depict any trans or nb people (explicitly at least, there are a couple metaphorical/subtextual ones…) and if I could not tell the person’s gender or I simply did not see a body I categorised them as “unknown” 

You will be pleased to know that Hannibal killed 39.5 people (the 0.5 is Dolarhyde which I split between Will and Hannibal as it was a joint kill 😌)  over the show on screen and that 26.5 of them were men, 9 were women and only 4 were unknown! All I can say is that Hannibal is a feminist queen! That or women are significantly less rude in the Hannibal universe… although Freddie seems to defy that theory…. He does kill the most in s1 at 21 times! That essentially halves in s2 to only 12 times and again to 6.5 times in s3.. although it’s worth noting that I was unable to count his kills at Muskrat Farm as we don’t see any bodies on screen (though the script implies it was at least 7) and I only counted the Il Mostro kills that we saw evidence of instead of including the amount killed by the actual Il Mostro killer(s).. Not to mention that he spent half the season in prison! So all that said he did okay! Also I personally believe that his kill count across his lifetime is easily in the high hundreds, he has to meal plan if nothing else so let's put some respect on his name as Hannibal THEE Cannibal!

Unsurprisingly the killers of the week did make up most of the kills in the show, and killed 62 men, 56 women and 33 of unknown gender altogether. The killer of the week who did the most murder is James Grey at a whopping 50 but he did have a mural to create so that takes a lot of bodies! Second place goes to Lawrence Wells who murdered 17 people over his lifetime to create his totem pole, while Clark Ingram sneaks in at 3rd with 16 murders, although he only killed women and is the main reason why the women’s s2 kill count is higher than the men’s, boooooo! Poor Dolarhyde had to pick up all the slack in s3 as the only killer of the week but he did at least get 15 kills in! Sadly he was bound by the orders of the moon and could not do the suitable legwork 😔

Now Will DID get his own section of the table as is his right as the main character 😤 even if he only killed 3 people (which translates to 2.5 on the table as a result of having to share the dragon with Hannibal…). But they were all monumental kills, I mean Garret Jacob Hobbs haunted the rest of the show, Randall was turned into a magnificent tableau, and Francis was the culmination of his becoming and gave us That Ending!! It’s also not like he didn’t successfully manipulate multiple people into killing (or almost killing) people so I think he deserves extra points for those if only in our hearts!! Despite his low kill count he is the character we see commit murder the most on the show! He fantasises/imagines/hallucinates murdering 32 people across the show!! As the show moved away from the procedural nature he imagined killing less people; with s1 standing at 16, s2 moving down to 9 and then only 7 in s3! Just because most of the time he’s empathising with killers to recreate their kills doesn’t make the scenes any less sexy or iconic!!

The 7 other kills actually all come from women!! Another feminism win!! 3.3 is when Chiyoh killed her prisoner after being manipulated into it by Will. 3.7 sees Chiyoh kill again, this time’s it’s the 2 guys who were going to kill Jack and the 2 guards at Muskrat Farm, where we also we get Mason’s murder from Alana and Margot!! Then in 3.10 we get the flashback to Bedelia killing her patient! Go Girls!! Whooo!! 

In conclusion no one is surprised that there is a lot of murder in this show and Bryan Fuller while not exactly alternating each week in killing off each gender did not kill more women than men so arguably achieved his goal!

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

[thisisnotthenerd]

as the fhjy premiere is upon us, i'm back with another edition of thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats. it's just the updates that are relevant, since relationship tracking is taking so long to do and i got sidetracked by polls for a few months. this will be sorted by the categories i have data for--you can look at the spreadsheet to find data for all d20 seasons. or you can read it on ao3. anyway:

player data:

runtime and episode data:

before the start of junior year, we have spent 88 hours, 40 minutes, and 14 seconds with the bad kids on-screen, including in oneshots. this is about 3 days, 16 hours, 40 minutes, and 14 seconds.

that's 41/221 d20 episodes, 22 of which were battle episodes.

we've spent 125 hours, 37 minutes, and 32 seconds in spyre as a whole, or 5 days, 5 hours, 37 minutes, and 32 seconds.

that's 57/221 d20 episodes, 32 of which were battle episodes.

cast appearances:

brennan at the top of the list, with 19 d20 appearances, 15 of those as a gm/dm.

next is lou, with 11 seasons as a player; 8 intrepid heroes seasons, 3 sidequests.

followed by ally, zac and siobhan, each with 2 different sidequests under their belts

second to last is emily, with 9, with acofaf

and in last is murph, with only 8. if aabria is in 2 of the 2024 d20 seasons, she's in the running to beat him.

seating preferences:

junior year tipped a lot of the intrepid heroes into a distinct preference, simply by setting them on one side of the table.

emily axford: strong left side preference (6/8), most commonly in L1 and L2. paired next to zac 5/8 seasons, and across from murph 5/8 seasons. fig sits in L1.

zac oyama: strong left side preference (6/8), most commonly in L2 and L1. paired next to emily 5/8 seasons, and across from ally 7/8 seasons. gorgug sits in L2.

siobhan thompson: weak left side preference (5/8), most commonly in L3 and R3. paired next to lou 7/8 seasons [doubled across 5/8], and across from emily 3/8 seasons. adaine sits in L3

lou wilson: even split preference, most commonly in R3 and L3. paired next to siobhan 7/8 seasons [doubled across 5/8], and across from murph 2/8 seasons. fabian sits in R3.

ally beardsley: strong right side preference, most commonly in R2 and R1. paired next to murph 6/8 seasons, and across from zac 7/8 seasons. kristen sits in R2.

brian ‘murph’ murphy: strong right side preference (7/8), the strongest of the intrepid heroes, most commonly in R1 and R2. paired next to ally 6/8 seasons, and across from emily 5/8 seasons. riz sits in R1.

character data:

given what the bts's have shown, there might be some changes to these that i'll update during the premiere, but as of now, this is a quick summary of the bad kids' data, including dnd race, class, level, highest stat, feats, and age. you can go through the thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats tag for my previous commentary on this data, or check out the spreadsheet.

i'm putting them at level 9 for now because that's what we left off with, but more than likely they're starting at level 10 or higher. we know about riz's respec, but there may be others that crop up during the season.

fig faeth: tiefling. lore bard 8, hexblade warlock 1. CHA. actor, lucky. 17-18

gorgug thistlespring: half-orc. berserker barbarian 8, artificer 1. STR. orcish aggression/fury. 18

adaine abernant: high elf. divination wizard 9. INT. spell sniper, war caster. 16-17

fabian seacaster: half-elf. battlemaster fighter 6, swords bard 3. DEX. sentinel. 18-19

kristen applebees: variant human. twilight cleric 9. WIS. human determination, inspiring leader. 17-18

riz gukgak: goblin. arcane trickster rogue 9. DEX. healer. 17

all of the bad kids have some magic now--the ladies are all full casters, while fabian is a split multiclass, gorgug is a 1/2 caster multiclass, and riz re-subclassed into a 1/3rd casting progression. still an even split of multiclasses and pure classes, though that may change. riz's re-spec has bumped arcane trickster up to the most common rogue subclass, with 6 arcane trickster characters, 4 of whom sit in R1.

and that's it! all of the intrepid heroes/bad kids data that i have updates for! see you all at the premiere of fantasy high: junior year tomorrow!