#I think I may have POSSIBLY actually cracked some part of the code; which is!!!!! EXCITINGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[scrawlingskribbles]

me sitting over here alone in my corner near-foaming-at-the-mouth as I attempt to finally bang out my quadrants thesisTM into something actually parsable like:

[iolypse]

alright! shit went down last night, huh?

I'm gonna run through the events that took place, then break it all down. (this whole thing is 1.4k+— sorry!)

qcellbit, our newest mad theorist, spent some time going around the island asking the members who've been here the longest about their experiences. how they got to the island, if they remember anything from before the island, the dragon, the duck, the messages, the binary code fuckers, cucurucho, the eggs, etc etc.

one particularly interesting bit of info was given to him by qphilza, who explained the existence of the airships and his investigation of a particularly large one. after showing qcellbit some items he looted from said ship, including a netherite pickaxe, enchanted golden apples, and chorus fruit, he talks about how a binary monster chased him all the way back to mainland, trying to kill him the whole time. he mentions that when accidentally right clicking it, a baby certificate popped up just like what happens when you right click the eggs. he then recounts that qfit threw a bomb to kill the entity, which promptly despawned so they couldn't loot its body.

he says that a short amount of time later, the entity appeared again and gave him a book with coordinates on it. said coordinates lead to an odd machine built at qluzu's house.

later on, qcellbit explains all of this to his fellow theory brothers, and with qphil in tow, they go to investigate. it's exactly as qphil said— an odd machine, specifically a few blocks of which are admin placed, and what looks like a screen that could hold code inside? the machine also has an eight on it. maybe tracking the number of eggs?

(the original number, maybe. there are only seven eggs alive right now, ten eggs have existed total. with tallulah and richarlyson as late additions, yeah, that makes eight original eggs.)

qcellbit, qbad, qmaximus, and qfoolish all discuss this. one of them is suddenly given a book with code that translates to say "LEAVE". they debate this for a little while— is it saying to leave the machine, or leave the island? they aren't sure.

I'm not really caught up on qluzu's lore, but apparently there's some alternate version of qluzu called arin, and arin is a machine of some sort. arin may allegedly be part of the machine they look at now?

they then decide that they need to at least see if it would be possible to escape. the portal that the initial trains came through still exists, so they all leave their kids with qphil and go investigate.

qphil, now alone with chayanne, richarlyson, and leonarda, all of which have a single life, sets up a table and decides to ask them about their past. do they remember anything at all from being kidnapped and returned cracked? no. he turns to richarlyson, then— newest egg, the only one left uncracked— and asks about the dragon. was it small like a little lizard, or large, larger than luzu's house? richarlyson specifically says that he thinks— doesn't know, but thinks— that the dragon is very, very large.

it's then that a binary entity with a name translating to "AI" attacks (very briefly, it appears with cucurucho's skin, though I personally believe this to be a simple glitch unrelated to any actual lore, same with the eggs occasionally appearing with normal mc skins), immediately going for chayanne. qphil quickly sends out messages telling the others to come back now, and he and the eggs try their damned best to fight it off. qphil has to pop an enchanted golden apple, and it seems like the eggs' guns aren't really doing anything. the binary entity isn't going down. it flees just before the others return. they never quite reached the portal.

qphil takes chayanne home after this. chayanne tells him that he's missing his gun. did it break? he's not sure. it might've, but it's gone now.

meanwhile, qroier and qbobby are on a boat ride, far from mainland. they make it to shore, and that's when the binary entity— the same one that just attacked qphil and the eggs he was looking after— attacks. it forces them into the water, and bobby drowns while trying to escape it. the entity exclusively attacked bobby the entire time, not once going after qroier. as soon as bobby was confirmed dead, it swam to the surface and flew off.

there's more that happened after this— I haven't watched the full clips, but some include a mob typically only spawned by the binary entities showing up and attacking qbbh while he and tallulah were making a beach house, and cucurucho appearing within the hidden parts of qcellbit's base while he was in the middle of theorizing.

so! onto the actual analysis part of this bullshit.

the binary entities. there's at least six of them, 01101100 "l" (lowercase L) who originally attacked qphil, 101010110101 (has no direct translation, too many numbers) who attacked arin, 1001010 "J" who attacked qcellbit, 100101001 ")" (?????) who attacked leonarda, 01101001 "i" who attacked qmariana, and now 01000001 01001001 "AI" who attacked qphil and qroier separately (not including other binary entities I may have missed).

some of them are very determined to kill the eggs (looking at AI specifically), while others freely attack players (lowercase L), so it's hard to pinpoint if they have a collective motive here.

I've seen some people theorize that they are the interference in the messages players have been receiving— jumbled numbers and letters and morse code hidden within the videos, a voice asking "are you there?". I would have said they're trying to get players to leave the island by making it more dangerous and more unappealing, getting rid of the eggs so they no longer have any reason to stay, but then there's AI, who specifically attacked while the theory brothers were attempting to escape. A distraction, most certainly— I don't buy that this is a mere coincidence.

something I have noticed is that their activity has been more and more frequent the more the theory brothers spread what they've discovered, today revealing to qroier most everything they've been able to decipher, just a few days ago explaining things to qphil and inviting qcellbit to the group.

clearly they don't want people knowing things. they don't want the code deciphered, they don't want the island residents to learn what's happening beneath the surface.

so they're not trying to get them to leave the island, and the code within the video is likely not theirs (it's in a totally different format anyways— morse code and jumbled numbers and letters as opposed to pure binary code). when they received the book telling them to leave, it most likely meant to leave the machine. they're tormenting the eggs to further build emotional attachment and discourage attempts to escape or solve the code.

so whose code is this, if not the binary entities'?

no fucking clue! I do quite doubt it's cucurucho, and it's most certainly not the duck. it may be an outside source knowledgeable to the census bureau's potential crimes, or a possible survivor and escapist from long ago. the island was definitely once inhabited judging by the run down buildings that existed when the first batch of island residents arrived.

one thing I've been thinking about lately is the fact that they had to bring power to the island.

we haven't really seen anything come of that, have we? why would the island need power? there's odd outlets put in the wall, what's their use? why would something need to be linked to the wall?

wasn't the attempt kind of unsuccessful? both groups fucked up the puzzle in the train station, but they were let out anyway?

small little theory of mine is that they somehow drew power from the eggs to bring the brazilians there, cracking them in the process, but I really don't have any proof or anything to back this up. it's just a potential explanation as to why the eggs disappeared and came back cracked on the very same day the brazilians arrived.

I will say that some of the eggs have acted somewhat different since that all happened. while it may just be a response to the trauma they experienced, I feel like chayanne and tallulah have both been wandering a lot more than they used to lately. they always stuck fairly close to their parents, but it seems like they've both been straying a bit.

I'm honestly spitballing at this point, just trying to get a grasp on all this info. at the very least, I'm almost 100% certain the dragon never existed, and something is super fucking wrong with this island!

[anderscim]

✦ i did make an insane reach, but not about what i expected

(for your information, this is not about the Elliot Cuevas MV that was recently released. this is actually about something else.)

// DRDT spoilers up until ch2 + spoilers for the Literature Girl Insane MV

i guess i’ll just get straight to the point.

admittedly, i have no idea as to how to crack the number code / footnote #14 at the end of the Literature Girl Insane MV. i think i delved a bit too deep into the mathematics and tried to find some sort of symbolism in the numbers, before realizing i was going nowhere with it. if anyone does solve it, however, let me know. (￣^￣)ゞ

but i did make a couple of observations about the specific text shown during that portion. about a week ago i found something that could be a hint regarding what the text is about—and if it holds any ground, a possible clue to a certain character’s past before the killing game.

(take this theory with a huge mountain of salt)

———

there’s nowhere i can really start from, so i guess i’ll begin by talking about one of my observations.

this screen. this specific frame may not look like anything important, but out of curiosity i decided to count the number of question marks on this screen. there’s 32 in total—16 question marks for each row.

other than it being a factor of 256 (16x16), there’s something else that’s also linked to the number. the number of students (total) that participated in the killing games. every killing game has a total of 16 students, at least when it comes to the official series. and with the assumption that DRV3 is a killing game that takes place entirely separate from the other two—this means that Hope’s Peak Academy is associated with two past killing games, which combined, involved a total of 32 students.

aside from that, the footnote “256 words” seems to connect to one of Karasuyasabou’s other songs known as “Jabberwocky Jabberwocka”—and funnily enough, Jabberwocky Island is where the second killing game (SDRA2) takes place. it seems to be too much of a coincidence to brush over.

however, we know that this part of Hope’s Peak Academy’s history has been covered up—so only few have any access to information about it. there’s even direct dialogue that supports this fact; most characters in Despair Time have no knowledge of the previous killing games.

(this does raise questions as to why Teruko has any knowledge of the previous killing games—but i don’t think we’ll be able to answer those for a while as it seems to be a major part of her character.)

in that case, why this number? (here’s where the insane reaches begin. get ready.)

if we go back to the LGI MV, there seems to be an indication that this specific code is linked to a character—which is seen by this frame here.

the roman numerals that appear throughout the MV are linked to a crossword that appears earlier in the music video—and this number (I) is specifically linked to Xander, as seen by the solution to this puzzle by @/raspbeyes here. since the code, the ampersand, the equal sign, and the question marks that follow are all in the same font, color, and transparency (as well as general format), we could also say that the text that appears during this portion is linked to Xander.

as inferred from this theory by @/1moreff-creator, it’s likely that Xander (along with Mai) was heavily involved in a (secretive?) operation or at least some sort of research involving Hope’s Peak Academy. the bonus episodes that released in between chapters 1 & 2 seem to hint at these efforts as well:

and as far as we have inferred, this project proved to be an incredible risk—leading to not only Mai’s death, not only the new killing game, but also the memories of the remaining Hope’s Peak Academy students being reset to when they were first heading to the orientation ceremony. someone was adamant about covering everything up and leaving nothing behind, but Xander and Mai’s project shattered those efforts, if only for a brief moment. but, how exactly does this relate to the LGI MV? if the dev intentionally placed 32 question marks—one for each participant of the past Hope’s Peak Academy killing games—during a frame associated with Xander, then there’s a possibility that said past killing games are also associated with Xander one way or another. and the fact that this was deliberately placed where a numerical code (possibly related to a message) appears, it’s likely that by extension the message is linked to that association as well.

putting all of this together: the question marks from the LGI MV may contain a very specific clue about the numeric code associated with footnote 14—but not how to solve it, rather what the decoded message is actually about. or, if i can word this better, Xander and Mai’s “discovery” regarding Hope’s Peak Academy was about the killing games that took place there, and the message associated with Xander in footnote #14 will be one that talks about this discovery more in detail. if the information Xander and Mai uncovered was actually about these killing games, i think the reason why it was so risky would make sense—coupled with the fact that the Academy seems adamant about covering up that part of history. though this doesn’t actually provide any proper information as to how to solve the code—and i’m sure there’s a much simpler explanation for the question marks during that specific screen in the LGI MV—i think these observations were at least worth sharing.

as always, take this theory with a huge mountain of salt. and i mean, huge. (- -;)

[dnalt-d2]

NEW CODE/FIT THEORY HOT OFF THE PRESS MAYBE

Hey guys, so around a week ago maybe, I asked a question

About any direct confrontations Fit may or may not have had with the Code. And since I got the answers I was looking for, here's the theory that led to me asking the question in the first place

(And also thanks to the people who actually answered me, it helped a lot)

It seems to me like the Code, for the longest time, has been purposely avoiding Fit for one reason or another. Now I have two hypotheses, one of which is way funnier to me and I kinda hope is the case. And the other which is more likely the case

So basically, the only current documented times the Code interacted with Fit before going semi-non-violent was in the early days of the QSMP, when Phil accidentally found some netherite weapons and incurred the wrath of what he thought at the time was God. (This was almost definitely just a beta design for the Code) It followed Phil as he ran off and encountered Fit, who immediately threw a bomb and killed the Code in one hit. Afterwards, it gave them a book with coords to Luzu's computer, and that was basically it.

The next time I remember the Code encountering Fit was during the fight that led to Tallulah's first death. And the weirdest thing to me at the time was that the Code didn't touch Fit. It teleported him underground for some reason. And ONLY him. Something we never really got an explanation for. At the time, I assumed it was just trying to get some of the fighters out of the way, but it didn't look like it teleported Phil or Forever, who were present as well.

After this, the Code would go on to attack Ramon, but only when Fit wasn't there, taking his final life for a bit there before it got reversed because the Code broke the rules regarding how it's supposed to attack the eggs.

And according to other viewers, it didn't seem to do anything involving Fit, up until it started dropping items related to the eggs, in addition to two clocks, both of which were dropped specifically to Fit. Fit was of course involved with the fight at the Election Dinner to a certain extent, but so was everyone, so that might have just been unavoidable. Same with the fact that Fit was present during some of the failed attempts on Pomme's life. Aside from these, the Code seems to have kept its distance from Fit for some reason (Though if I've missed any encounters, please let me know)

Now for the hypotheses

The first one that's more of a crack theory and would honestly be hilarious.

It avoids Fit because he fucking blew it to smithereens immediately upon meeting, and now he's just fucking terrified of him, avoiding him at whatever cost, only approaching him when it's unavoidable, and leaving as soon as possible. Again, I don't think this is it, but wouldn't it be funny if it was???

And for the actual theory, which someone else probably already put together, but I don't care

So I've been pretty wishy-washy on whether or not the Codes are allied with the Resistance or the Mystery Third Faction, and this unfortunately isn't helping me. Right now, the Resistance seems more likely due to Etoile's connection to it. But I think that whoever hired Fit is also part of the Resistance. Or at least that they're part of whatever group is with the Codes. And the ENTIRE reason the Code's been avoiding Fit is because whoever's in charge of it specifically told it to. Since he's working with them, they want to make sure he's unimpeded as much as possible, to the point that the Code hardly seems to have targeted Ramon specifically, and only did so when Fit wasn't there.

(Which makes it a little fucked that Fit specifically told his employer that he's hesitating because he has a son now. Which would theoretically give them more reason to want Ramon out of the way)

This would mean that the clocks may NOT have been a "The Eggs' time is up soon" warning the way a lot of people assumed, but it could've been trying to tell Fit "Hey, time's running out for you, get a move on, hurry it up." This would explain why he was the ONLY one to get the clock.

So yeah, that's my thoughts, let me know what you think or if I'm just wrong. Like I've said before, I'm not exactly a theorist, so a lot of this is new territory to me. And I haven't watched a whole lot of Fit before about a month or two ago, so a lot of what he was doing back then isn't something I've been keeping up with. So if I missed something please tell me.

*EDIT*

I HAVE JUST BEEN INFORMED THAT SOMEONE MADE CONTACT WITH FIT VIA BOOK AND IT LOOKS LIKE IT WAS PROBABLY FROM THESE GUYS. Or at least whoever's been contacting people via black chest.

(Likely the same guys who were talking to Cellbit before probably Cucurucho intercepted the messages at the tail end of the exchanges (The last chest wasn't black in that so it probably wasn't them))

SO YEAH OF COURSE THAT HAPPENED TODAY

OF COURSE IT'S PERTINENT AND I MISSED IT

THAT'S SO WONDERFUL

[ohmerricat]

if you've watched nightmare in silver i'd love to hear what you think — it's a pretty good episode in my opinion and it's one of the few cybermen-as-the-main-monster episodes i actually liked, but it's also one of those episodes that takes some of its most interesting elements from something i like a lot more from the eu so that coloured my perception a bit (turns out constantly going wow just like zagreus makes you less capable of just enjoying the episode as it is. oops)

it’s… a mixed bag of an episode, honestly, provided how much stuff is actually in it. i liked select parts of it a whole lot, much room for thought there, whereas others … skeeved me out, to put it mildly. i don’t think neil could possibly have topped the masterpiece that is The Doctor’s Wife, and whatever he set out to do here… could have stood a little more editing??

to get the grumbling out of the way: the kids. Most Annoying Who Side Characters Ever award goes to them, singlehandedly taking first place away from that stuck-up nerd in Poison Sky. i don’t know if neil intended for them to act supremely slappable, but christ alive. just the constant dour negativity and ‘bored teenager’ unimpressed commentary … walking vibe drainers. made it hard to care about their fate tbh. oh they got cyberconverted? oh they got rescued and brought back? Whatever. call me a boomer apologist… i’ve never referred to a pair of children (fictional or real) as ‘ungrateful spoiled brats’ before but this could be the day i start.

additionally: the hell was that stuff about clara at the end? “too short and bossy and your nose is all funny” “mystery wrapped in an enigma stuffed into a skirt that’s just a little too tight” go to hell gaiman. genuinely. here i was relying on you, thinking you’re immune to casual misogyny. especially since it doesn’t even make sense… clara’s skirts are never tight? not once? i understand that the former comment was a bluff to get out of admitting feelings but, again it’s not even accurate, since jenna coleman’s nose completely fits the beauty standard?? baffles me

those are all minor nitpicks bc other than that the episode’s fun! and creative, especially all the scenes with the cyber-planner and their high-stakes chess game (you like chess dontcha). i haven’t listened to zagreus (YET) but from what i’ve gathered from internet osmosis the doctor gets possessed by an … evil nursery rhyme? lmao. seems legit

anyway nightmare in silver has unfortunately made me understand people who find matt smith attractive. i’ve cracked it: it’s a dormant gene that only activates when he’s playing an intimidating villain. especially here, when he’s mr clever, a warped mirror of eleven, with the boundaries between the two blurring so far as to confuse even clara. this moment is top notch:

which one of you said that? she’s right to question it.

he’s been quietly manipulative with clara for the entire duration of their travels so far, concealing from her the truth about the ‘mystery’ that her whole existence presents to him, while she remains the object of his puzzle-solving quest. a particularly odious example in this scene in Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS, where the doctor is fully aware that their impending doom at the cliff is an illusion, but puts on the pretense that they’re about to fall to their deaths anyway, building all that fear just to to coax clara’s “secret” out of her (“since we’re both going to die here, you may as well tell me what you are”). as soon as he gets what he wants — or, rather, doesn’t, because there’s no satisfactory answer yet — he reveals that he’d known all this time that the TARDIS wouldn’t have let them fall.

that’s what makes mr. clever so insidiously, well, clever as a plot device: eleven’s not possessed by an external force, not quite. no: it’s his own shadow showing. he’s always been like this. the cyber-code slowly taking over the right side of his brain is just as smart as him, just as manipulative, just as much of a trickster. all his darker traits turned up to, well, 11 (sorry not sorry). “allons-y!” “fantastic!” “you’ve had some cowboys in here” mr clever is a parasite that takes the worst and best parts of the doctor, cuts them up and re-attaches them in a parodic audio-collage, and isn’t that just so fucking ingenious

another line that’s just a straight banger, not much to say about it really other than the fact that it cuts straight through to the core of the narrative:

this spun out of control and turned out far far longer than expected, my apologies (not really. you asked!)

[wibble-wobbegong]

thesis— if it’s something mike thinks will hurt el, he would never do it.

“she didn’t look fine.”

that was when he felt lost, powerless, frustrated, and resentful about his relationship, and caught up in those emotions. all things he could very well be when kissing will in a heat of a moment, especially if he’d just found out his real feelings are requited.

okay so this is actually a very interesting point to make because rink-o-mania is pretty much our only example of el trying to start conflict with el (other than the body scene in s1 but that wasnt really about el so i dont count it)

rink-o-mania’s events are very interesting because, in terms of mike, i think two major things are going down in his head regarding el:

1. one thing mike holds to himself is that violence should only be used in defense of others.

we never see him use it for himself, and the only time he ever instigates violence is in the gym with troy after watching will get made fun of (which is a great example of how his will isn’t absolute and it has bent for will in the past, so i won’t deny that the cheating scenario is possible because of stuff like this). later on, what we see from mike is that he recognizes el’s situation in rink-o-mania, and in general, as something he understands and has experiences but he never went so far as to hurt someone

here’s the thing though: mike didn’t hear angela’s comment about hopper. with fighting for will, we see that there’s some leniency to this internal rule he has and he’d probably be a lot more understanding of what happened if he knew that what caused her to snap wasn’t the being pushed down and teased but rather having her dead father made fun of. i’ve talked about it before, but mike’s route to understanding others is through connecting their experiences to his own. mike saw himself in el at rink-o-mania but he doesn’t understand how she’d resort to violence, but if he knew about what they’d said afterwards he’d be able to recognize much more clearly why she snapped the way she did

2. el had broken this preconceived image mike has of her.

a lot of mike’s admiration and dedication to el comes from the way she was able to protect him and his friends in s1 and that her sense of justice seemed to match up with his own but she was a superhero who could do the things he found himself unable to. in doing everything i just said above, she broke that image of herself in mike’s mind because mike doesn’t really know her. he’s living in an image of her, which may have some truth to it, but he also internally holds her to very high standards as a result.

when he goes to make amends with her (before it turns into a fight) he’s not really asking about rink-o-mania. it sorta seems like he’s brushing that part of the day under the rug, but he does ask why she felt like she had to hide her genuine situation from him. i think he tries to move past it because he eventually gets over his own initial reaction

what all that means is that a certain part of mike’s morality took the forefront when he saw what el did because she also broke his internal concept of who she is and why she does things the way she does. the extremes she went to with angela were not even things he would go to with troy, but in el’s world the scale of violence looks so incredibly different that their interpretations of such a thing aren’t even comparable.

because all of this lines up for mike to be willing to be bitchy with el, i don’t really see a situation like you described where cheating would work. a different type of morality took the forefront at rink-o-mania alongside his image of el being cracked, but that wouldn’t be the case in a situation with will

i did say earlier, however, that we have seen mike break his own code over his love for will. that, imo, is a better example of him falling into the hands of emotion. so it’s definitely possible, but we have seen mike choose el’s happiness over a potential relationship with will before at the end of s3. he’s had chances to be with will before when he thought his feelings were requited but when el kissed him that possibility flew out of the window (and i know this doesn’t make sense if you don’t follow my posts but it’s an entirely separate analysis that i’ll gladly make if you’d like). i just don’t think we’ve been built in the direction of canon cheating and i think mike’s internal pressure to make el happy has been around so intensely and constantly for so long it would be sort of strange for it to just break because of his own desires when we know that isn’t something that motivates his actions

BUT again i could see it as a possibility if the writers did things a little differently

[ridiasfangirlings]

What if Yata was sent to a insane asylum after Saruhiko betrayed him. But the asylum did inhumane experiments on its patients, and they know Yata's a red clansmen, so they try to make his powers stronger than the red king's powers???

Who sends Yata to the asylum though, I don’t think Homra was that worried about his mental state. Oh maybe he like decides to start seeing a therapist, he’s been struggling to understand why Fushimi left and Kusanagi suggests that talking to someone might help. He gives Yata the card for a reputable place but Yata accidentally loses the card and tries to recall from memory where the place was. He tries asking around and some Strain guy mentions a place that ‘specializes in powerful people.’ Yata figures okay this must be the place Kusanagi mentioned and heads there, not realizing that it’s actually a shady place. The ‘doctor’ he talks to suggests Yata go to another location where they can help him even more and Yata has no idea the trouble he’s in until he’s jumped in the doorway of the other place and put in power-dampening restraints. 

Yata is told that the place he’s in is an insane asylum for people like him, people who think they have superpowers. Yata’s like wait but I do, isn’t this supposed to be a place where people like me can go. The doctors smile at him all oh dear he’s further gone than we thought and Yata finds himself locked up alongside all these Strains that have gone missing as well. The doctors are pleased to have finally managed to get their hands on a clansmen, these guys are maybe like disgraced members of some previous clan (like survivors of the previous Green or even Red clan or something, people who have only been very loosely monitored) who decided they want to do some experiments on the Slate. Since getting past Kokujouji isn’t possible for them they decided to try using Strains first with the hope that eventually they could even snag a clansman, and Yata’s ‘lucky’ enough to be their first Guinea pig. 

Obviously Homra soon becomes aware that Yata’s missing but maybe they don’t even pay it much mind at first, thinking well he’s still hurt by Fushimi leaving he must need some time alone. However Fushimi has noticed it, because of course he wants to find Misaki and be hated but there’s no Misaki. Maybe he’s even been feeling really odd and restless lately, like his scar feels as if it’s burning painfully and his heart keeps skipping a beat and he doesn’t know why. At some point Anna starts to feel uneasy and tells Mikoto they need to find Misaki and Kusanagi sends guys out to keep an eye out for him, becoming worried when he learns that Yata hasn’t even been seen at his part time job or at his apartment in ages.

Meanwhile poor Yata is being all drugged and tortured by the doctors at the asylum, who want to try and make their ‘own’ Red King, thinking like if they can crack the code to how one makes a King they can enhance their own powers. Maybe one of the guys worked for Mizuchi and thinks Mizuchi had the right idea but chose poorly, he tried to force someone who didn’t have the qualifications to be Blue King onto the throne. The Red King’s throne may be occupied but they figure what if we make someone who is a better candidate, who can usurp the throne, and Yata is the perfect test subject. Yata’s being tested on so much that he barely knows what’s happening, imagine he keeps thinking Fushimi is there and calling for him because he’s forgotten that Fushimi left. As the doctors start to experiment more though they become more lax with their safeguards, which is how Anna started to realize something was wrong and it also gets the attention of S4. Munakata thinks this might be a good chance for Fushimi to show off his worth and tasks him with gathering intel on what could be going on, Fushimi thinks this should be easy and of course was not expecting to find a familiar face inside the building….

[venkidu]

Master Detective Archives: Revival Code

Summary: You awaken in an unknown location with a splitting headache, no memories, and a fuzzy blue ghost who calls himself "Yakou Furio”. What the actual hell is going on?

Rated M for language and canon-typical violence

Cross-posted on Ao3

*CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR ALL OF "MASTER DETECTIVE ARCHIVES: RAIN CODE" AND ITS ACCOMPANYING DLC*

Chapter 0, Part A

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

Your stomach. Your limbs. Your back. Your head.

Pain.

You don’t even want to open your eyes, but you hear a voice, a male voice, coming from above you.

“When the contractee awakens, they may be physically and mentally disoriented. This may cause them to feel overwhelming panic, sadness, or in some cases, anger…yeah, I’d be feeling all of that too…”

You crack one eye open, as slowly and as slightly as possible. You can’t locate who the voice belongs to, but it appears you’re indoors somewhere, judging by the presence of a lighting fixture directly above you.

“Be sure to re-introduce yourself and explain your position as soon as your contractee is awake. Be patient, as their memories may be extremely foggy, even those that they were meant to keep. For tips on aiding your contractee in identifying themselves, turn to page 356…geez, this manual is bigger than I expected.”

You sigh inwardly. All this talk of memories and manuals and contracts has admittedly has you curious, so you sit up and open your eyes.

You regret it immediately.

Standing (floating?!) in front of you is a blue…ghost?!

At least you think it’s a ghost. Whatever it is, you can see right through it.

You had originally wanted to give yourself time to evaluate the situation before whoever possessed the voice you had been hearing noticed you were awake, but you’re way too freaked out by the presence of A GHOST, AN ACTUAL FUCKING GHOST, to maintain any semblance of calm.

You let out a surprised yell and sit up, immediately trying to scramble backwards and away from the figure in front of you.

“Oh, hey, Master! You’re awake! My name is- whoa!”

The ghost floats toward you until you whip the book laying next to you at it.

It passes right through it.

“Stop screaming, I’m really not gonna-ACK!”

The bag you found passes right through the ghost as well.

“Okay, I have an idea!” the blue blob zooms over to the corner furthest from you. “I’ll stay right over here where you can see me, and we can start again! Sound good?”

You pause. Being stuck in a location that you don’t know, with potentially limited memories, and a ghost doesn’t “sound good” but, it doesn’t seem like you have any other options.

You take a deep breath in and slowly exhale, trying to get the tension to leave your shoulders. “Okay,” you nod.

“Great! Well, Master, my name is Yakou Furio!” the ghost announces, pointing to himself.

“Yakou…Furio…” you repeat back.

“Yep! Former detective, current Death God!”

“A Death God?!” Oh, this is worse, this is SO MUCH WORSE than you imagined.

“Actually…Death-God-in-training,” he chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his…head? Body?

His form is oval-shaped and blue, with a wispy, fluttery tail; small horns protrude from the top of his head, where a small, black crown is also perched. They’re faint, but it looks like Yakou’s wearing some type of round, blue eye-wear. His outline has a vaguely fuzzy look to it. A ghostly cigarette sticks out from his mouth.

“Do all Death Gods look this…?” you ask, scooting slightly closer to take a better look despite your anxiety.

He appears to shrug. “Probably. I’ve only ever met one other Death God. I have another form too, but I’m not sure you’ll get to see it, which is a shame, I’m quite handsome,” he chuckles with a wink.

You laugh weakly.

“Enough about me though, Master, tell me about you!”

He starts to float around you, but maintains a respectable distance.

“Uhm, well, my name is…uh…”

“Aw geez,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his head. “You don’t remember your name? I’m really sorry, it was my first time performing a pact on my own, I probably screwed it up.”

“I-it’s okay!” you say, waving your hands in front of you. “I heard you reading a manual and the manual said this might happen!”

“True, it did say that was a possibility. Boy, you sure are awfully calm right now,” he observes.

“Well, what good would freaking out do? Plus, you…don’t seem so scary for a Death God.”

“In training,” Yakou adds.

“Right.”

“So, your name? You don’t remember it?”

You shake your head.

Yakou holds a hand up to where you assume his chin would be. His tail begins to twitch, almost like a foot tapping.

“Oh! That bag you threw at me! Maybe that’s yours!” he zooms over to where the satchel was chucked in the corner and moves to pick it up.

“Oh, right,” he mumbles, staring at his translucent hands.

You can’t help but giggle. “I appreciate the effort. Is it hard, being a Death God?” you ask, shakily pushing yourself up and shuffling over to the bag.

“In training! But I’m not really sure yet. I haven’t done any godly things so far. I still struggle with the whole ‘ghost’ aspect of it though.”

He takes a swing at a nearby shelf, as if to showcase his arm passing through the structure.

“Understandable, that’d probably freak me out too,” you mutter as you dig through the bag.

You pull out a wallet and find some sort of identification card sitting in the front pocket.

“Does this look like me?” you ask, holding the card out for Yakou to inspect once you’ve studied it.

Yakou leans in and takes a drag from his ethereal cigarette.

“I think so? Looks like you’ve grown your hair out a bit since this photo was taken, but nothing else really stands out to me.”

“So that’s my name, this is me,” you mutter, staring at the card again.

“Is there anything else you remember?”

You scrunch up your face in concentration.

Think.

THINK.

…

“Nope, not a thing,” you sigh.

You stretch the bag open even further and peer into it. Chapstick, some granola bars, a half-drunk bottle of water. Nothing that is remotely helpful to figuring out your identity, but potentially helpful in your current physical situation.

You sit back on your heels and sigh.

“Nothing?” Yakou asks.

“Nothing,” you confirm.

You take a look at the room around you. Metal shelves line the walls, crammed with all sorts of things - crates of cleaning supplies, boxes piled high with garments, luggage, you think you even see an actual robot.

But nothing that hints at your identity or where you are or how you ended up here in the first place.

“Damn, I didn’t think the effects of the contract would hit you this hard,” Yakou mumbles, rubbing the back of his head.

“You keep mentioning a contract,” you inquire. “What did I sign exactly?”

Yakou sighs and turns away from you. “I wish I could tell you, Master, but, that would be a major rule violation.”

“Death gods have rules?”

“Yeah, especially when they’re going through training - and I’m gonna be upfront with you, Master: my boss terrifies me to my very core. I’d hate to have you deal with her, especially if I did something stupid that caused her to feel the need to appear.” He appears to shudder.

“Well, is there anything you can tell me?”

Yakou takes another drag from his cigarette.

“All I can say is that in order to gain access to my powers, you had to give up something of value. And as I’m sure you can tell by the state of that bag you’re holding, you don’t have a lot of physical possessions, if you catch my drift.”

You glance at the bag and something clicks inside your mind. You slowly raise your unoccupied hand up to the side of your head.

“Yakou…did…did I trade my memories for your power?”

He nods. He looks like he feels sorry for you.

You feel your eyes begin to water as you stare down at the floor.

Breathe. Breathe. Why can’t you breathe?! You feel your whole body shaking as you sink down onto your knees and dig your nails into your thighs in an attempt to ground yourself.

Yakou looks down at you sadly.

You remind him of someone…someone he thinks he maybe knew a long time ago…you have the same eyes as them, eyes full of fear.

He gently reaches out. He knows what he is. And he knows he can’t touch you.

But he’s going to try anyways.

His spectral hand reaches up and pets your head.

You flinch at feeling…something…brush against your hair.

You look up.

Yakou gives you a cheerful grin as he strokes your hair.

“I know this all seems really scary, but you have a detective-turned-Death God on your side, Master! Who better to keep you safe and help you figure all of this out?!”

You take a deep breath.

In.

And out.

And despite the lack of memories and full situational awareness, there’s something about Yakou that makes you believe in what he’s telling you.

You manage to return Yakou’s smile.

“Okay, Yakou. I trust you.”

His spectral smile grows even bigger, and you can’t help but laugh as he does a little mid-air loop-de-loop as well.

“Well, I guess we should figure out where we are right now,” you suggest.

You slowly push yourself up and off the floor and head towards the door.

“Oh, wait! Grab the book!” Yakou calls out to you. He’s pointing to a corner of the room where the book you chucked at him now lays.

You walk over to where he’s pointing and pick up the thick tome - the cover is made of a well-worn purple leather with gold embellishments. A large pink gem is embedded in the center of the cover and a leather strap with a tarnished yellow clasp holds the book shut.

“Is this mine?” you ask, turning the book over in your hands.

“Sort of. That book is where my boss and I reside until someone calls on us. And since you and I have entered a service pact, you could argue that the book is now technically yours for the time being.”

“Fascinating,” you reply. You go to tuck the book into your bag when a piece of white paper flutters out from in between the pages.

“What’s this?” you ask, bending down to grab it.

Yakou hovers over your shoulder as you study the piece of paper.

A logo of some kind is printed in red in the top left-hand corner. Stretching across the top of the page is a banner that reads “AMATERASU EXPRESS”.

Underneath the banner, in plain black text, are the words “Amaterasu Express Ticket - One Way - Express Service - Kanai Ward”.

“What does any of this mean?” you mutter. “What is Kanai Ward?”

You turn to look at Yakou. His mouth is slightly open, and his white, pupil-less are wide.

“Yakou?” you ask. “Are you okay?”

“I…I think I know Kanai Ward,” he gasps. “I think I’m from Kanai Ward.”

“Oh, it’s a place? Wait, hold on, you think you’re from there? Did our pact take your memories too?!”

Yakou shakes his head (body). “No, our pact has nothing to do with my memories, just yours.”

You gently chew on your thumb nail as you ponder this revelation. “You mentioned that you used to be a detective. And you confidently recited what I’m assuming is a first and a last name. I wonder if that all comes from a past life, from before you became a Death God! Do you remember anything else?!”

Yakou once again lifts his hand to his chin and twitches his tail rhythmically.

After a moment, he shrugs sadly. “Not a thing. I don’t even remember dying. I just remember meeting Boss-Lady.”

You resume your study of the ticket. “Well, if this ticket to Kanai Ward came from a book that I had in my possession when we made our pact, and you think you lived in Kanai Ward, maybe we’ll both recover our memories if we go there!” you suggest.

“That’s not a bad idea!” Yakou replies.

“Then let’s go!” you finally push the door open and glance behind you as you pass through the doorway.

“Oh, it’s a lost-and-found,” you observe, noticing the plaque on the wall. “That explains all of the random junk in there. Not sure how I ended up in there, though. I don’t suppose you could fill in that blank for me?” you ask Yakou hopefully.

“No can do, sorry,” the blue blob replies, exhaling a small cloud of smoke.

“Attention passengers departing this station direct to Kanai Ward aboard the Amaterasu Express,” a robotic voice rings out from above. “Please board immediately. The train will depart soon.”

You glance at Yakou in alarm.

“Run!” he yells.

And you do.

[alterrune]

Alterrune posted 692 times in 2022.

That's 366 more posts than 2021!

673 posts created (97%)

19 posts reblogged (3%)

Blogs that we reblogged the most:

@alterrune (myself, for some reason)

@ending-the-cycle-ask (aka Mod Mello, the reason why I made this askblog story to begin with)

@minus-starcatcher-beyond (blame my convo with 8 for that, but it's a really good askblog, so I think it's deserved)

@flowerbarrel (a great artist and a good sport all around, they are probably the first person that come to mind when I think of the AtO fans)

@tips (because their post was just hilariously stupid)

The blog had 678 of posts in 2022 tagged

Only 2% of my posts had no tags (which, trust me, is a mistake on my part)

#altering the outcome - 462 posts

#ask irl!alterrune - 333 posts

#ask the ato cast - 257 posts

#the colorstreak battalion - 246 posts

#submission - 186 posts

#altering the outcome announcements - 41 posts

#miscellaneous outcomes - 34 posts

#altering the outcome's first anniversary event - 32 posts

#decluttering the askbox - 25 posts

#alterrambles - 20 posts

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#sorry about randomly tagging some of you but we've gotten artwork from you in the past and we'd love to have it happen again

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5 - Randy Radman's Appreciation

Man… must’ve been great.

It certainly was.

Randy Radman is one of, if not the youngest leader of the Clan. Believe it or not, he's actually one of the few past Toppat leaders who are still alive today. He's even visited for some of the events the higher-ups like me and the others have organized.

The "Party Era" was something that Radman states was "a party that could've gone a lot smoother". He started off spending money on things that weren't really neccesary. He really didn't know how to manage a budget that well. When he got the news about the bankruptcy, however, he actually decided to sell all the unneccesary clutter and use the money he recovered to not only ensure the Clan would stay financially stable, but also to reinforce the airship in numerous ways so that it would be more capable of flying in more dangerous environments. He even used money from his own pocket at times.

If it wasn't for him, the Airship would be much less versatile than it is today. He later retired from the Clan to do some solo work (with a hefty sum of money given to him as a reward for all his hard work), but he still visits the Toppats from time to time.

He's almost like a distant uncle to the Clan: He doesn't visit often, but when he does visit, it's absolutely AMAZING.

Me and Violet actually met the guy recently during a seasonal event. Turns out he can be a seriously good DJ.

He's like a good version of Terence Suave. He's a bit self absorbed, for sure, but he knows what the clan wants, and like a DJ at a party, he'll give them exactly what they need.

9 notes - Posted June 6, 2022

#4 - The Shoutout To Meowy

I first visited your blog after I saw you talking about the red string puzzle on Ending the Cycle. It was impressive how you solved it. 👍

I didn't solve it all on my own, actually.

I had help from another Tumblr user: @meowy2. They were a major help, giving helpful advice for finding out the code for myself, PM-ing me info whenever I asked for it, and just generally being a good sport. If it wasn't for them, I would've never actually cracked the code on the archives, and subsequently, AtO would've never existed. How is that possible, you may ask? Well, allow me to explain...

WAAAAY back when this blog was still just my personal blog, I had originally released AtO as a reward for everyone who helped me crack the passcode. Thing is, I didn't think it would gain any traction like it did, and I wasn't really gonna do much with it. But after I actually started to get an audience, I decided to start making Altering the Outcome into the story it is today. In fact, it wasn't until just before I had finally released Act 1, Chapter 4 (originally known as "Entry 4") that I actually came up with the name of "Altering the Outcome"!

Basically, shoutout to Meowy for basically allowing this askblog to be a thing. Without them, AtO would never have existed in the first place.

9 notes - Posted June 12, 2022

#3 - The Faded Color Gang's Empowerment

Harold, Emma, come here.

The Toppat Clan knows of the truth, you must hide it, but most importantly, destroy the Toppat Station, kill every member of the Toppat Member. I want them all dead! If you see any family members or friends of your other sides, inject them with the drug, they’ll be most useful to us. I’ll also be giving you a shard of the crystal that you must jab into yourself. It’ll give you the ability to harness the power of the crystal, it’ll begin to rapidly grow deep within your body, I’ve give all 4 of you crystal shards, jab it into yourself now!

(Harold, Emma, Victoria, and Knox, hearing the words of what Adam said about the crystals, all jab into themselves, it grows rapidly inside their body, before eventually gaining the power to harness the crystals power.)

Now, I must look deeper into 3 other people, a hack called Anon, a computer system, and most importantly, a creator, perhaps they know what my plans are, they must be stopped, and to do so, I must bend the rules.

Great, now he's after Hack!Anon, System and...wait, me?

BAH-HA-HA! Oh, that's hilarious, as if he could actually do that! He can't get me, as he's in the computer and I'm in the real world!

Oh, almost forgot. I should probably warn System and Hack!Anon about this. Good thing I got H!A's email saved in my contacts, don't need to type the whole thing out...

FROM: founderkyle@alteringtheoutcome.ca

TO: "Hack!Anon"

SUBJECT: Adam's gunning for you guys!

Guys, bad news. Remember Adam, that guy I told you about? Yeah, I think he found out about you-know-what, and now you've landed on his hitlist. I'd reccommend you either run or try to hurt him from a very long distance away, because when he finds you two, I'm pretty sure he's gonna kill you. Good luck, you guys, and I'm sorry about the lack of help, I need to cover my own ass in case he somehow finds a way to escape the computer screen. He's actually gunning for me, too, and I don't wanna die. Stay safe. -IRL!Alterrune

Aaand sent. Hopefully they'll at least STALL Adam...pretty sure he can't get me, but eh. Better safe than sorry.

11 notes - Posted January 6, 2022

#2 - The Accidental IRL!Alterrune Forshadowing

CHAPTER ASKS 7:

Ouch... Alright I just fell... Hope this goes to them/them. Idk what they gone through but according to an audio tape I found in the Kurosawa Airship... It's honestly shocking. They into something known as beast forms... Lea- I meant Wiseclover hasn't been captured, I think. You okay System? Yes, just fried a couple chips. Alright, I'm so damn tired. I'm just gonna go to the restaurant near me... System? Do you need anything? Falls (yes I put an undertale reference. And yes they're not dead.)

(Considering this blog is called "Alterrune", your Undertale reference 100% justified. -IRL!Alterrune)

Wait...why did they say "them" in two different ways?

What do you mean, Alter?

Look, right there. Hack!Anon used the word twice, but using four colors for each.

Hmm...the second one is probably supposed to be us...Sweetheart, what do you think?

I think you're probably right, Henry. Those are our trademark colors; Alter's red, Violet's purple, your blue and my pink.

Yeah, and it looks like those first two colors are used again in the first one, so it looks like Hack!Anon is determined to find me and Vi regardless.

But then...who are the black and green bits supposed to represent?

I mean, the green could represent Carol or Reginald...but I have no idea who the black text could mean.

I mean, it could be IRL!Alterrune. His text is usually the default black text.

Well, that is true, but like we explained earlier, he's in an entirely different world from us, so Hack!Anon wouldn't be able to get to him.

Well, either way, it's glad to know System and Hack!Anon are both okay. They've given nothing but radio silence for a long time before now.

Yeah, ditto. And it sounds like that info that we were informed that Hack!Anon leaked to the Heaven Incursion was completely unintentional, so we don't have to shake him down like we were going to.

18 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

The #1 post of 2022: The Alternate Personality Takeover

Characters>loaded-characters Showing all loaded characters: 🔺🔵💕💜? / Kyle Henry Ellie violet Aaron Status: ERROR Knox Victoria Harold Emma Adam status: Alive? 🔵/geocorp guard status: Alive 👁‍🗨/Leader status: No soul 👁‍🗨♦️/ leader-soul Status: broken ⚙️/Enigneer status: Alive 🔲/New Leader status Alive 🍂 / Wiseclover Status: Jailed ?/Kelso status Alive 📖/Book status: Alive :all other characters are not loaded to save space:

What?! The Colorstreak Battalion and Aaron are all showing nothing but an error mesage!

This is unbelievable. Fucking hell. I can't contact my guys...

...wait, I wonder if...

>CHECK ASKBOX STATUS/ALTER, VIOLET, HENRY, & ELLIE

>ASKBOXES FOR AAAAA, VVVVVV, HHHHH, & EEEEE HAVE BEEN CORRUPTED

DAMNIT!!! Their alternate personalites fried the inbox search!

...wait. What if I do this instead...?

>CHECK ASKBOX STATUS/KNOX, VICTORIA, HAROLD, & EMMA

>ASKBOXES FOR KNOX, VICTORIA, HAROLD, & EMMA ARE OPEN

Looks like their alternate personalites have taken the askboxes. Maybe you guys can snap them out of it?

18 notes - Posted January 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[snippy-tano]

Hello! I hope you're having an amazing day! If possible, could I request tiny hands in big hands from the touches ask game with Rex?

Wowowowowowow this was so much fun to write. I actually had this idea with something that was totally and completely unrelated. but then I had an epiphany at like 2am last night that it would fit this ask exactly and I had to write it asap. It’s just so fluffy and cute and ack I want it. 

I hope you enjoy it anon! Let me know what you think!

Masterlist is here!

Taglist is here!

Tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @marvel-starwars-nerd @mackstrut @dissapointingpancake @ahsokatano-thetogruta @welcometothepedroverse @lightning-wolffe @fractiouskat @mandaloriandin @lussyyung @lowkeyodinsong @str-wrs-fics @bantha-shit @badbatch-simp24 @katelynnwrites @s1st3r @leotatombs @torchbearerkyle @luna-schaf @oh-delphinia @dominhoe-squad @kaermorons @leotatombs

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Code

It was the middle of the night and you were still working. 

Which really wasn’t out of the ordinary, all things considered. You were used to late nights and early mornings, today wasn’t any different. You’d been up since the crack of dawn and it was nearing the middle of the night. You were positive you had bags under your eyes, but there really wasn’t any helping your situation. 

It was the nature of working with the GAR. 

And at this point, you didn’t even think anything of it anymore. It was just part of the job.

Which is why walking through the halls around 2am didn’t feel weird. And it didn’t feel out of the ordinary when Echo jogged up to you and matched your pace after calling your name. 

“How goes it, Echo?” You asked, closing your data pad you had been typing on to give the ARC trooper your full attention. He shrugged, making his armor clink together.

“I’m still standing. Why are you still up? Isn’t your shift over?” He asked, gesturing to your more relaxed clothing. 

It was your turn to shrug. “I have a lot to get done before the morning, so I thought I might as well be comfortable while doing it.”

Echo nodded once before clearing his throat. “Have you seen Captain Rex lately?”

You couldn’t help the clenching of your heart when he said Rex’s name. It was an involuntary response you had only recently began noticing. It took far too long (and a few conversations with friends back on Coruscant) before you realized your warm feelings towards the Captain may be a little more than just “friendship feelings.”

It had been a surprise, but one that only made more and more sense as time continued on. 

You’d done a good job keeping it under wraps, but knowing you, it was only a matter of time before someone caught on, especially considering how much time you spent with the men aboard this ship.

“Not recently, why? Is he okay?” You asked, turning to look at Echo who sighed.

“No one has seen him since dinner. He was heading towards his office and I’m not even sure if he had dinner or not.” Echo admitted and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’ll find him. You don’t have to worry about it.” You said and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, I don’t really have time to track him down. I would, don’t get me wrong, I’d love nothing more, but I can’t leave Fives alone with the shinys.” Echo replied and you laughed.

“Definitely don’t want that. Don’t worry Echo, I’ll find him.”

Echo gave you a pat on your arm before bidding goodbye and jogging away towards the barracks. You hesitated before heading for the mess hall. Echo had mentioned he wasn’t sure if Rex had eaten or not. Even if he had, if he was planning on pulling an all-nighter, he’d get hungry at some point so food wouldn’t be amiss. 

The short detour didn’t take long and before you knew it, you were standing outside of Rex’s “office.”

It technically was an unused supply closet, but a few months ago, you and some of the men had repurposed it so that Rex could use it as an office. He may only be a Captain, but with all of his responsibilities, he needed a space where he wouldn’t be bothered by the men. And you and the men had been more than happy to help him with that.

The room was still registered as a storage room, but you were pretty sure General Skywalker knew it had been renovated for Rex. And you were pretty sure he didn’t care one bit. 

You looked both directions before punching in the new code.

Rex kept changing the code every time one of the men cracked it. The space was a way to get away from his brothers so that he could work. It made it pretty hard to do that when they kept barging in. 

Hence why Rex kept changing it. 

You and him were the only ones who knew it at the moment. It wouldn’t take long before they cracked it again, but you were going to make sure it wasn’t you who revealed it to the men.

You had been surprised when Rex had given you the code right after he changed it for the first time about a month ago. You hadn’t realized you two had grown close enough that he’d trust you with that information. You supposed the many late nights working and getting to know each other must have helped. All those times you brought him food and just worried about him must have meant something to him too. Despite all of that, you had still been honored that he trusted you enough to give you and only you the code that you had done your absolute best to make sure the code didn’t fall into the wrong hands. 

Namely Fives.

The door opened softly and you carefully slid inside, letting the door shut behind you. Rex was hunched over his desk, seemingly fast asleep with his datapad on in front of him. 

You let out a soft sigh before carefully stepping further inside. 

The room itself was a mess of different furniture you’d managed to scramble together on your short stints back on Coruscant. There was a desk, a cabinet, a lamp, a small couch, and even a mini hydrator. That had been tricky to sneak onboard, taking nearly all of Torrent company to pull off. 

But you had succeeded and the place felt more homey. 

You quietly opened the hydrator and slid the food you had gotten for Rex inside, that way he’d have it when he woke up. You dimmed the lights and grabbed the small throw blanket that was draped across the back of the couch for days when Rex (or anyone else, you included) decided to take a nap. 

You moved slowly, tiptoeing closer to Rex, biting on your lip to try and remain as quiet as possible. There was a small piece of flimsy on his desk and you quickly scribbled out a note about the food in the fridge for him, signing your name at the bottom. You placed it where he’d see it the moment he lifted his head.

When you finished, you gently unraveled the blanket and placed it over his shoulders. He had the hindsight to remove most of the pieces of his armor when he had sat down, so you at least knew he was comfortable. He stirred slightly when the blanket made contact with his broad shoulders, causing you to hold your breath.

But he didn’t wake. You waited a few more seconds before covering him more fully, taking a moment to look at his sleeping face. 

Rex looked so much more peaceful when he was sleeping. He looked relax and so so young.

It made you wish he had a chance to live a life he wanted to live, one where he wasn’t a soldier.

But fate had other plans. 

You let out a soft sigh, giving him one last look before turning to leave and give Rex the chance to rest without anyone disturbing him.

Your heart leapt into your throat when you felt a hand tighten around your wrist. 

You let out a strangled noise of surprise, spinning and finding yourself staring at familiar golden eyes. 

Uh oh. He’s awake. 

You were so startled that you completely froze, an apology on the tip of your tongue. 

Rex continued to stare at you and you could feel your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. His eyes slipped from yours to your wrist in his hand and then to the note you had scribbled for him. You so badly wanted to know what he was thinking, but the words just wouldn’t come. 

His gaze flipped back to you and it was like a dam broke.

“I’m so sorry! Echo was worried and I wanted to make sure you got something to eat and when I got here you were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you up so I left a note and you looked cold so I got the blanket. I didn’t mean to wake you! Please forgive-”

“-you came here because Echo was worried?” Rex said, his voice a little raw since he had just woken up. Or at least had woken up at some point when you came into the room, you still weren’t sure when exactly he came back to consciousness. 

Frankly you didn’t want to know.

“I was worried too. I hadn’t seen you since yesterday’s meeting and I know you sometimes forget to eat so I wanted to make sure you did or that you got some rest before tomorrow.” You again word vomited and wanted more than anything for the ground below your feet to open up and swallow you whole. 

Rex paused for a moment and you took a shaky breath. 

His thumb brushed against your now exposed wrist and you fought back against the hitch in your breath at the contact, seemingly now noticing that he wasn’t wearing his gloves. Your heart continued to pound and you prayed to the Maker that he couldn’t feel it. His calloused hands slid from your wrist to grip your hand.

Tingles shot straight up your arm and you really were holding your breath now, eyes unable to look away as his rough hand completely engulfed yours. He was staring at your now joined hands, seemingly marveling at how much larger his hand was than yours. 

Maker, this has to be a dream. I’m dreaming. But I’m not sure I want to wake up. Kriff my hands are so clammy.

You thought, wincing at the thought of Rex being grossed out by your now sweaty hands. But he didn’t seem to be flinching away, which was probably the most unnerving thing about this situation. 

He tugged on your hand and you had been so wrapped up in your thoughts that you jerked forward, your free hand reaching for purchase on his shoulder as your legs came into contact with hard plastoid. 

Wait. Hard plastoid? That means - 

Oh.

You froze again. Your eyes were trained on Rex’s this time only inches away and so much closer than they ever had been. 

Kriff, his eyes are so pretty.

“Thank you.” He huffed, startling you again. “For looking out for me.”

“No problem.” You squeaked, voice higher than it ever had been. Your face felt like it was on fire and you weren’t sure if you wanted to stay in this exact position until the day you died or if you wanted to run for the escape pods and eject yourself into space. 

Rex lifted his free hand and brushed a stray piece of hair off of your face, but instead of taking it away after, he let his hand cup your cheek.

Maker, this has to be a dream. There’s no way this is real.

Rex let out a low chuckle. “It feels like a dream to me too.”

Your eyes widened. Ah kriff.

He didn’t seem to mind your current situation and frankly you were too shocked to be horrified at how things were playing out. Rex smiled softly at you, brushing a thumb under your eye. 

The next thing you knew, he was kissing you. 

It was embarrassing how quickly you sighed against him and absolutely melted. But Rex took that all in stride and let go of your hand to wrap his arm around you and tug you closer. 

This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream.

You repeated like a mantra in your head, refusing to believe this was happening. But then Rex tilted his head, lips moving more incessantly against yours and all coherent thoughts flew out the window.

The rest of the world faded away until all that was left was you and him.

And you honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Rex pulled away and you felt yourself chasing after him as he chuckled softly. His forehead pressed against yours and you took a few deep breaths before opening your eyes to find him already looking at you.

“I’m glad I gave you that code.” He breathed and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled past your lips. 

“I am too.” You whispered and Rex smiled broadly at you.

“I hope you know I plan on taking full advantage of it from now on.” He said and you felt your cheeks burn as you sputtered. He smirked before leaning in again to capture your lips once more. All argument left you in an instant and you pressed yourself closer, causing him to groan and his hands to fist in the back of your shirt.

Yeah. You could get used to this.

And take advantage of it he did. 

You weren’t going to complain. Not one bit.

The men ended up complaining however, specifically Fives and Echo who managed to crack the code a few days later and had been a little surprised to say the least. 

Well, they learned their lesson and frankly, you were too happy to care about the teasing and complaints. Rex changed the code again and gave it to you immediately. You’d practically melted on the spot, happier than you had been in a long time.

Who knew a code could lead to something as special as this?

[utilitycaster]

On a tangent to recent discourse: What do the dnd rules say about a patron physically controlling the warlock? Are there conditions to be met? Does the DM have to roll something? Is it something that’s addressed when creating a character? Or can the DM just choose to do it when they want to?

I think this was the first time it happened to Laudna and I only remember one instance with Fjord (Labenda swamp IIRC). Funny that they both involved magic rocks.

This is a great question! It is largely left up to the DM's discretion and good judgment. There are no official rules I know of for DMs, though the Player's Handbook says "Work with your DM to determine how big a part your pact will play in your character's adventuring" (PHB, 106) and the flavor text for warlock generally covers the possibility that you could have a contentious relationship. Also worth noting - the idea that you can end up in a pact without necessarily realizing? It's all there in the book. "Sometimes a traveler in the wilds comes to a strangely beautiful tower, meets its fey lord or lady, and stumbles into a pact without being fully aware of it." (PHB, 105)

In general I would say that if a player is playing a warlock, the DM should make the expectations clear: your powers have a source that is both external and highly conditional. While clerics and paladins typically have powers contingent on a broad code to the effect of "do good, protect the innocent, smite evil", warlocks may have something as specific as "perform this ritual at midnight on the winter solstice or I take away all your powers". This is something the DM should state in a session zero or in personal discussion of creating the character/multiclassing into warlock.

Additionally, the DM should provide warnings. We actually saw this for Pike - a cleric - in early Campaign 1, and then in Campaign 2 with Fjord, and then this week with Laudna:

Pike killed someone who was trying to get away and wasn't really a direct assailant, and her holy symbol cracked. Her powers remained, because she was a cleric of a deity of forgiveness, but it was made clear that Sarenrae was disappointed and it served as a signal that further consequences could ensue if this behavior continued (which it did not).

Fjord chose to keep the final key to Uk'otoa's seals and not unleash him. Uk'otoa first threatened him in dreams and took away his powers temporarily. When Fjord continued to defy him, Uk'otoa took away his powers again, at which point Fjord officially broke the pact. Uk'otoa continued to have assailants pursue Fjord so long as he possessed the Cloven Crystal. And earlier, in regards to the crystal in the swamp, Fjord was told "this seems familiar" (with zero checks, I should note) and he (as controlled by Travis) then chose to touch it without waiting for Caleb to identify it, at which point he has a compulsion and Matt narrates the rest.

Delilah has previously warned Laudna about revealing her existence (in 3x6, around an hour and ten minutes in) and, for an experienced player (like Marisha), Matt telling her how Laudna feels should be a clue to said player. Like with Fjord, it was an unprompted "this is how this object makes you feel" with no checks, which, in this case, was repeated several times. And then Laudna (as controlled by Marisha) decided to ask Imogen for the rock and touch it.

So: in short, this is something that happens in RP but a good DM will hint that something is up with this and the player then makes their choice.

I would say for a longer-term DM control situation that should be talked about behind the scenes and there should probably be some saves involved (see: Yasha being compelled by Obann) but basically the implication with warlocks especially is "you fuck around, you find out" and this is a risk in playing one.

[autisticandroids]

Okay so this was a while back but im preety sure you had mentioned an au of yours where dean is a serial killer and cas successfully stalks him but i don't think you talked about it more than that and i just really want to hear a bit more bc that idea sounds so tastefully fucked up

okay so. weeks later i finally end up answering this ask. it inspired this post btw. anyway spn is a show that's like. all about justifications, as i said in the post inspired by this ask. it's about having no choice and doing what you have to do. and like there is the phantasy embedded in it, a phantasy that is both indulged and punished. but most importantly it's justified. the monsters are super strong to show how brave our heroes are for fighting them, the main characters let out great wails of grief every time their lady loves are violently ripped from them (even though now they are free to do whatever they want), the narrative twists to show our heroes as correct whatever they do. the fantasy (of being allowed to enact violence, of being free from feminine "control," of being right) comes first. the material construction of the universe of supernatural comes afterward. whatever the fantasy is, the universe of supernatural will provide material conditions to justify its acting-out.

and what this means is that our protagonists, dean in particular, are constantly doing just horrific things, which in any other circumstance would be unconscionable. but the universe of supernatural provides justification for these acts. the point of my serial killer au which i think about so so so much is to ask the question: what if these justifications melted out from under their feet? what if dean was left holding nothing but a lie and the weight of everything he's done?

therefore, the premise of my au is such (under the cut because this baby is long):

john and mary winchester, in the mid seventies, joined a doomsday cult known as the men of letters. the men of letters were rather unusual for a doomsday cult, in that they believed that the apocalypse could be prevented by human behavior. this started as correct living, correct worship, yadda yadda, the kind of behavior and thought control that cults are known for, but with the justification of: if you don't do this, the world will end. eventually, this escalated to human sacrifice. the men of letters managed to untraceably kill two homeless people in the late seventies. but they eventually fell apart. however, a month after john and mary left the men of letters (mostly john's choice, mary still believed), mary died in a house fire. john took it as a sign from god that actually, the men of letters were right, and the world would end unless john himself did something about it. so he took some of the (intensely numerological) theology of the men of letters. and he worked out his own formula. and he applied it to the yellow pages. and started ritualistically killed people to prevent the apocalypse, with his two sons in the back of the car.

now, obviously, this is some kind of grief induced temporary madness on john's part, shaped by the mental abuse he suffered in the men of letters. but the thing is, once you've killed a couple of people to prevent the apocalypse. well. there's this thing called the sunk costs fallacy. john wasn't gonna question his own beliefs after that.

and he raised his boys to believe it, too, or at least he raised dean to. they didn't tell sam what they did until he was twelve, and sam didn't buy it, tried to call the cops on them several times but in the end, they always prevented him. eventually sam ran off to stanford, where he now lives under a cloud of guilt that he's too loyal to his family to rat them out.

john died a few years back of a heart attack, but dean is convinced it's because he messed up a ritual two weeks before it happened, so it pushed him further into this belief system.

dean's killings (and john's before him) are ritualistic and distinctive, obviously the same killer each time. but they happen anywhere in the united states, seemingly at random, there are inconsistent amounts of time between each one (sometimes as short as days, sometimes as long as years), and there is no particular victim profile. obviously, since our killers are following an arcane mathematical formula to make their choices for them, but the police don't know that.

castiel novak is an unemployed shut-in with a small inheritance which he's living off of, a cryptography degree, and an obsession with all things morbid. he spends most of his time on the reddit true crime forums, playing amateur sleuth. by complete chance, he happens to recognize one of the symbols frequently used in corpse displays by the so-called sioux falls satanic slaughterer (so named because the first time three of his victims were in the same part of the country, it so happened that they were all in sioux falls, south dakota. this was in the late eighties.) as being mostly only used by a little known cult group called the men of letters, which dissolved in the mid eighties.

he only notices this because, as a teen, he had a special interest in cults and fringe religious groups. the men of letters weren't a particularly notable or well known phenomenon; they were small, and a lot like every other cult that formed during the seventies cult boom. (no outsider ever heard about the human sacrifice; there were rumors, of course, but they were garbled, sensationalized, and mixed up with satanic panic fodder.)

(the men of letters' two sacrifices were nothing particularly romantic or fantastical. they first lured panhandler josie sands back to their compound with promises of food and a warm bed when she admitted she couldn't get a bed at a shelter, and was thinking of getting caught shoplifting just so she could be under a roof in the county jail. the men of letters' leader, a man who took on the name alistair, forced his inner circle to dress in the ceremonial black robes he had given them when he initiated them into his nearest and dearest, and which his wife had sewn out of old bed sheets and dyed black with home made oak gall dye. these robes still left black smudges on the wearer's skin occasionally if they sweated too much. josie was laid, bound, on the altar, a slapdash thing constructed over the course of two days from scrap plywood and a couple of milk crates. a rich red tablecloth purchased at macy's for $3.99 hid its ugliness and gave it grandeur. alistair attempted to kill the struggling miss sands by bringing a sharpened kitchen knife down on her bosom and piercing her heart, but, having never killed a human or even slaughtered an animal before, was unaware of the problem presented by the human ribcage. after rather ineffectually poking at the area beneath sands' bosom with his knife while she shrieked in pain and terror for about ninety seconds, alistair tried a different tack, and slit her throat, which worked just fine, and she bled out quite nicely. the second and final victim of the men of letters was a local vagrant named larry ganem, an older gentleman who walked with a limp. he was lured back to the compound in approximately the same manner as sands, but instead of being bound, he was fed stew laced with sleeping pills. even if alistair hadn't slit his throat, he wouldn't have woken up. it's actually arguable whether he was still alive at time of sacrifice; mary winchester (eight months into her first pregnancy), who, as a member of the inner circle, was in attendance, actually tried to take ganem's pulse as he lay on the altar (now covered by a different tablecloth; the red one had turned stiff with sands' blood and been subsequently burned) and found nothing, so it is entirely possibly only sands' death can be directly laid at alistair's feet, and ganem's is the fault of mrs. ellen harvelle, who prepared the laced stew. regardless, these two deaths are lessons in the nature of human evil: it is very rarely skilled, suave, or smooth. it's often slapdash, half-hearted, and just plain incompetent. but that makes it no less grisly. alistair may have begun to drink his own kool-aid, as it were, and escalated this far out of genuine belief that the apocalypse was coming and it was up to him to stop it, but it is far more likely that he sensed the imminent collapse of his little empire, and wanted to bind his subjects to him through the horrors of shared guilt, considering two lives a small price to pay for the continued loyalty of his inner circle. and the tactic worked: the men of letters didn't start to collapse in earnest until almost four years later. perhaps if alistair had continued the killings, the men of letters could have lasted for far longer, maybe even up until the present day. but it seems that alistair, a psychiatrist by training and unused to violence, simply didn't have the stomach for it. unlike, say, john winchester, who before his time with the men of letters had done a two year tour in vietnam, during which he had killed three living, thinking human beings with the american government's go-ahead.)

anyway. castiel is the first person, ever, to make the connection between the men of letters and the sioux falls satanic slaughterer. and once that connection is made, castiel begins to research the men of letters far more in-depth. and he notices something: the theology of the men of letters was intensely numerological, filled with patterns, significant numbers, and even spiritual equations.

castiel thinks of the seemingly random selection of the slaughterer's victims, and has an epiphany.

he cracks all his fingers, and gets coding.

six months. it takes castiel six months to discover an equation that could fit the slaughterer's pattern. it's complex, but also clearly based on several of the men of letters' holy numbers, and accounts for every single one of the killings. it also suggests that there should have been two or three more deaths scattered across the years, but more than likely those did happen, it's just that they weren't reported as part of the slaughterer's portfolio.

but much more importantly, castiel's model can also make predictions. there will be two killings, fifteen days apart, in a city seven hours' drive away, six weeks from now.

so castiel waits. and he books a hotel room. and two months later, he's waiting outside 217 oak street when a shadowy figure climbs up a tree and lets itself into the upstairs window.

dean winchester is feeling particularly all alone in the world when he breaks into maisey banks' home (217 oak street). his father has been dead for half a decade, and he hasn't spoken to his baby brother for twice that. it's not like this whole grizzly saving the world business makes him a lot of friends. so once he's done killing maisey (which is easy, she was ninety three and dying of cancer anyway. she doesn't even wake up when he slits her throat) and arranging her corpse in the appropriate manner, with prayers and sigils, he turns around. and sees a man standing behind him.

smiling slightly.

as he watches dean gut this old woman.

dean freezes.

the man takes a step forward.

"you're very attractive for a serial killer who's been operating since the eighties."

dean is silent.

"family business, is it?"

silence continues.

"i'm not here to report you to police. i'm just here to see if my algorithm worked right."

and dean finally breaks his silence: "what the hell is wrong with you?"

what's fun here is that dean knows (or rather "knows") that he isn't a serial killer. so he finds what cas is doing, this amoral serial killer stormchasing, morally repugnant. because cas has no way of knowing he isn't a regular serial killer.

there's also the fact that that cas proceeds to flirt with him. aggressively. and follows him back to his motel.

but the thing is that dean is all alone in the world. and as cas continues trailing him around, he starts getting, well, flattered. and feeling a little bit less alone.

it doesn't take very long before they fall into bed. even if cas is an amoral stalker with a fetish for what dean considers a distasteful yet necessary vocation.

so. they fall into bed. they fall in love. they make a little life together, in dean's big sexy car. dean tries to explain to cas that he's saving the world. that these people's lives are a necessary price to pay. and cas seems to listen.

of course, castiel doesn't believe a word of it. but he's found that he likes dean. really likes him. and he realizes that the collapse of dean's belief system would destroy him.

so he sets about becoming as complicit in it as possible.

even to the extent where, when dean is hit by a car and ends up into the hospital a day before one killing is meant to take place, castiel agrees to take on the job. (he doesn't actually kill anyone, obviously. but he does use his extensive skill with computers to create three fake newspaper articles which make it look like he has.)

but five years later, something goes wrong. really, really wrong. dean miscalculates the formula. and by the time he checks his work, the actual date of the next kill, as demanded by the formula, has passed. in fact, so have three others. and the world didn't end.

dean collapses. he hyperventilates. all those people. all those people. for no reason. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people. all those people.

cas seems totally unfazed. dean stares at him in shock. but cas just takes dean in his arms, and whispers in his ear: "oh, dean, i never believed in the equation. i love you no matter what you've done."

and dean buries his face in cas' chest.

[prickly-problematic-programmer]

my top twenty iswm crack theories

ranked by how likely i think they are

put all in one place without explaination so i can point here on may 2nd and say i called something

old man mark sabotaged our ship

celci is celine

ms. witacure is either connected to dark or the manor entity

the narrator is the host/author (fight me on this i said these are crack theories)

meta actor mark and wkm actor mark are slightly different people, and the mark from date, heist, space, etc is from wkm. (i said no explanations but i might make a post for this one)

alternatively, meta actor mark and wkm actor mark are the same person time is just horrifically broken and that’s why it breaks the timeline

speaking of timeline: it goes space -> wkm -> wilford motherloving warfstache -> damien -> heist -> date -> (the other ones i forgot like markiplier tv)

going off of that, space is the first simply because 1) the wormhole is the first time mark remembers dying. starts his god complex and 2) mark mentions getting the courage to ask us out on that date.

not a theory but just don’t ask me why wilford is in his post wkm probably pre-wilford motherloving warfstache era. it’s wilford he isn’t supposed to make sense.

that one screenshot where mark has a shirt labeled “dad” and has the two books labeled “romance” and “horror” is either going to be where we finally see dark in part 2 or is going to be another trick by the door which will 100% make a reappearance

part 2 will have different endings but only one true end- just like heist. the true end will be fixing the wormhole and 🤞🤞🤞 revealing where tf this fits in with the timeline.

alternatively, part 2 will have Only One Ending with multiple paths just like this one. the one ending will reveal where tf this fits in with the timeline

there will be some sort of code hidden between the two parts to unlock the bts and bloopers videos🤞🤞🤞 (please that was so fun with heist)

one of the paths in part 2 will lead you directly into either heist or date or wkm.

one of the paths for part 2 will have the captain thrown into wkm As The Captain and things happen differently than the original

since this is officially double crack theory territory: the computer on the ship is a reimagining of google irl without the copyright issues <3

yancy will make a comeback. for like 3 seconds total. and the internet will lose their minds.

we’re in space and mark has already made multiple references to other games. is it really so out there to predict a to the moon reference?

old man mark is actually a completely different character than current mark. possibly from a different timeline, possibly just completely different person.

and of course, last but not least,,,, y/n is chica

[team-heavenly]

Chapter 12 - Part 2

If you haven’t already, read Part 1 here!

So we finally reach the Gold rank and upgrade our storage capacity from 200 to 320! Yay!

The Guild is also peeved with me for taking four days away from the cause, so we hurry back to the plot to avoid getting pelted with Tamato berries.

Sounds good to me. Let’s do this!

So the... first floor of Questionable Causeway is the same as Quirky Crown.

Also ignore my artificially inflated playtime hahaha

Actually, I didn’t have too much trouble with this one- no more than usual, anyway. Although one attempt was thwarted by a Typhlosion having STAB for the strongest Fire Type move in the game:

It happened so fast that I blinked and it was over. As you can see from my max HP, I didn’t stand a chance.

“Look at these three crystals! They’re huge!”

I low key cannot believe that Beedrill’s group stumbled upon this, went “Wow! Cool! Three big crystals! Not much we can do with that though!” and just returned to the guild thinking these weren’t even worth mentioning. Like hello?? Y’all are explorers and puzzles aren’t exactly uncommon in this world! Use your head!

Okay maybe the group was (rightfully) wary this could trigger a trap of sorts, so they didn’t bother even touching the crystals. And sure, they knew nothing about the colors needing to match. Without that knowledge, it could be any possible combination that would yield a result, and trying them all out would take A While.

HNNNNNG I DON’T KNOW WHY BUT THAT MADE ME THINK OF THIS:

Same energy.

And then of course...

I’ve tried taking pictures of the few times the Dimensional Scream is just a voice. But the white text REALLY doesn’t show up well against the black, for some reason.

Naturally, we crack the code within about 10 seconds.

God I love these double screen portraits so much.

Woohoo! Let’s see what Crystal Crossing is!

Evil... Bluff... Uh oh. Boy, I sure hope that’s not a bad omen.

Again, this dungeon wasn’t too bad. I only had to reset once.

It suddenly hit me that 2F is exactly what Crystal Cave is supposed to be lmao. What are the chances?

Present?! Oh Andrea, honey, no-

Ran into another Secret Bazaar and decided to intimidate the true Time Gear Guardian by staring at him menacingly for a bit.

Okay, now here’s the next long stretch of dialogue and action. I didn’t expressly mention this in Part 1, but you may have noticed how I subtly formatted the images for the opening scene. With the more serious moments that drive the plot forward, I try to minimize my commentary. It just feels like the most appropriate thing to do. I know we’ve been through these scenes before, but I hope it can still be somewhat interesting/fresh with the new cast of characters.

The battle... It took more than a few Blizzards to knock him out. But we didn’t get roughed up too badly. The only move I saw him use was Luster Purge, which scared me a decent bit.

Nevertheless, we get brutally tossed aside and utterly paralyzed.

“This is all for the Time Gear! Forgive me...”

Click here for Part 3.

[impostoradult]

Media Market Research (and why its undermining all the things you love)

Trying to understand what is dysfunctional about Hollywood is an epic task, and the answers are like the stars – arguably infinite. Hollywood is dysfunctional for literally more reasons than I could count.

But market research plays a fairly heavy role in its dysfunction (IMO) and the time has finally come for me to add my professional two cents about this issue. (This rant of mine has been building for a while, FYI. Hence why it is so...comprehensive. There is a tl;dr section towards the bottom, if you want the high level summary)

*** For the last 4+ years I’ve worked in the field of market research, almost exclusively with major media makers like Warner Bros., NBCU, AMC/BBCA, Viacom, FOX (before Disney acquired them), A+E, etc. (this past year I quit the job where I was doing this work for a variety of reasons, many of which will become clear as you keep reading, but I am still listed as a consultant on the company website):   https://www.kresnickaresearch.com/who/ (Rachel)

And just for comparison, here is a Halloween selfie I took 4 years ago and posted on my blog, so you can see I am who I say I am. 

I know a fair amount about how market research on major media franchises is conducted and how it influences production, and a lot of these choices can also be at least somewhat tied back to the massive flaws in the market research industry and its impact. *** First, at the highest level, you need to understand market research in general is not well-conducted much of the time. Even the people doing a reasonably good job at it are VERY limited in doing it well because of financial constraints (clients don’t want to spend more than they have to), time constraints (clients want everything done as fast as humanely possible) and just the inherent problems within the industry that are decades old and difficult to fix. For example, all market research ‘screens’ participants to make sure they qualify to participate (whether it is a mass survey, a focus group, a one-on-one interview, etc.). So, we screen people based on demographics like race, gender, age, household income, to get representative samples. But people are also screened based on their consumption habits. You don’t want to bring someone into a focus group about reality TV if they don’t watch reality TV. They aren’t going to have anything useful to say. 

However, a lot of the people who participate in market research have made a ‘side-gig’ out of it and they know how to finesse the process. Basically, they’ve learned how to lie to get into studies that they aren’t a good match for because most market research is paid, and they want the money. So, a lot of TV and film market research is being done on people who don’t actually (or at least don’t regularly) watch those shows or movies or whatever but have learned how to lie well enough in these screening processes to make it through. And because of the aforementioned time and money issue, clients don’t want to spend the time or money to actually find GOOD participants. They just accept that as an inevitable part of the market research process and decide not to let it bother them too much. So, a fair number of the people representing YOU as a media consumer are people who may not be watching Supernatural (for example) at all or who watch a rerun occasionally on TNT but haven’t been watching consistently or with ANY amount of investment whatsoever. You can see why that creates very skewed data. But that’s just the tip of the skewed iceberg. *** Second, media market research is conducted in line with the norms of market research more broadly, and this is a huge problem because media is a very atypical product. How people engage with media is far more complex and in depth than how they engage with a pair of jeans, a car, or a coffee maker. There are only so many things that matter to people when it comes to liking or not liking a coffee maker, for example. Is it easy/intuitive to use? How much space does it take it on my counter? How expensive is it? Does it brew the coffee well? Maybe does it match my décor/kitchen aesthetic? Can I make my preferred brand of coffee in it? The things you as a consumer are going to care about when it comes to a coffee maker are limited, fairly easy to anticipate in advance, and also easy to interpret (usually). How people mentally and emotionally approach MEDIA? Whole other universe of thing. Infinitely more complex. And yet it is studied (more or less) as if it is also a coffee maker. This is one of the many reasons I decided to leave the media market research field despite my desire to have some ability to positively influence the process. As so often seems to be the case, I fought the law and the law won. I could never make the other people I worked with in the industry understand that the questions they were asking were not all that useful a lot of the time and they weren’t getting to the heart of the matter. They were just following industry standards because they didn’t know any better and none of them want to admit they don’t REALLY know what they’re doing. Which leads me to point 3. *** Most of the people doing this research don’t have any expertise in media or storytelling specifically. They are typically trained as social scientists in the fields of psychology, anthropology, sociology, or math/statistics. And many of them do not have any kind of specialization or education in media/storytelling beyond the English classes they took in high school and the one Media Studies course they took as an elective in college. Most of them have a very unsophisticated understanding of narrative structure, thematics, tropes, subtext, etc. They mainly think in terms of genres at the VERY broadest level. Also, not infrequently, they don’t watch or have much knowledge of the shows they are supposed to be doing research on, beyond what they’ve read on IMDb or Wikipedia or what is generally common knowledge. Unless they by chance happen to watch the shows themselves (which often they don’t) they often know very little about the shows they are crafting these questions about. Again, partly because they think it is like the coffee maker, and you don’t need to understand it in any depth to research it. (I know this must sound insane to you as avid media consumers, but that is the general attitude among those who do market research) There is such a lack of sophistication in how people in the business side of the industry understand media and storytelling. Most of them are either MBAs or social scientists and their training has not prepared them to examine fictional works with the kind of depth that people in the Humanities (who are specifically trained to study texts) have. Somehow, despite the fact that the Humanities is all about understanding texts, that is the one discipline they make almost no use of in the business side of Hollywood. And boy howdy does it show. *** Point 4 – average consumers CANNOT ARTICULATE WHY THEY LIKE THINGS. Particularly media things. I know this sounds condescending, but it is my honest observation. It is unbelievably hard to get people to have enough self-awareness to explain why they actually like things, especially things as mentally and emotionally complex as media. What typically happens when you ask people why they like a TV show or movie, for example? They will tell you what they most NOTICE about the TV show or movie, or what is distinctive to them about it (which may or may not have anything to do with what they actually LIKE about it). They will say things like “I like the genre”, “I think it’s funny”, “The car chases are exciting”, “I want to see the detective solve the puzzle.” Sometimes you can get them to talk about what they find relatable about it, if you push them a little. But often they leave it at either the level of literal identity (young black woman), basic personality traits (she’s a social butterfly and so am I) or situations they’ve personally experienced (I relate to this story of a man losing his father to cancer because I lost a close family member to cancer). But the vast, vast, vast majority of them can’t go to the deeper level of: a) Why X representation of a young black woman feels accurate/authentic/relatable and Y representation doesn’t b) Why it matters to me that X,Y,Z aspects of my personality, identity, experience get reflected in media whereas I don’t really care about seeing A,B,C aspects of my personality, identity, or experience reflected in media c) How and why they are relating to characters when they can’t see the literal connection between their identity/experience and the character’s identity/experience. (For example, many people have argued that women often relate to Dean Winchester because a lot of his struggles and past negative experiences are more stereotypical of women – being forced to raise a younger sibling on behalf of an actual parent, being seen and treated as beautiful/sexually desirable but vacuous/unintelligent, his body being treated as an instrument for a more powerful group to quite literally possess, etc. Part of the reason Supernatural has always been such a mystery/problem for the CW and Warner Bros is they could never crack the code at this level. Never.) Part of the reason they can’t crack these codes is average people CANNOT give you that kind of feedback in a survey or a focus group, or even an in-depth interview (much of the time). They just don’t have the self-awareness or the vocabulary to get it at that level. Let alone asking them to articulate why Game of Thrones is compelling to them in an era where wealth disparity is creating a ruling class that is fundamentally incompetent at maintaining a just/functional society, which is especially concerning at this particular moment, given the existential threat we face due to climate change. And the truth is, that IS part of what people – even average people – are responding to in Game of Thrones. But what they’ll tell you when you do market research on it is: they like the dragons, they like the violence, they relate to Tyrion Lannister being a smart mouth, maybe they’ll say they like the moral ambiguity of many of the conflicts (if they are more sophisticated than average). But the ‘Dean Winchester is heavily female coded despite his veneer of ultra-masculinity’ or the ‘Game of Thrones is a prescient metaphor for the current political dynamics and fissures of modern western society’ is the level you ACTUALLY need to get to. And most market research can’t get you that because the people ASKING the questions don’t know what to ask to get to this level, and most of the respondents couldn’t give you the answers even IF you were asking them the right questions (which usually you are not) And I’m not saying average people are dumb because they can’t do this. But it requires practice, it requires giving the matter a great deal of in-depth thought, and most people just don’t care enough about it to do that while taking a market research survey. (I know this is going to feel counter-intuitive to people on Tumblr. But you have to remember, you are NOT average media consumers. You are highly atypical media consumers who have far more self-awareness and a much more sophisticated engagement with media than the average person watching TV. If you didn’t, you probably wouldn’t be here talking about it in the first place) Point 4.1 – People also lie/misrepresent their own experiences to market researchers because they want to maintain certain self-narratives. You have no idea how many people would get disqualified from our surveys for saying they watched less than 5 hours of TV a week. And sure, that might actually be true for a few of them. But if you watch TV with any regularity at all (which most people in modern America do) you probably watch more than 5 hours a week. The problem is, people think it makes them sound lazy to say they watch 15-20 hours a week, even though that’s about 2-3 hours a day (which actually isn’t THAT high). People lie and misrepresent their behaviors, thoughts and feelings because it can be socially uncomfortable to admit you do what you actually do or feel how you actually feel, even in the context of an anonymous survey, let alone a focus group or a one-on-one interview. People want to make themselves look good to THEMSELVES and to the researchers asking them questions. But that makes the market research data on media (and lots of other things) very questionable. For example, one finding we saw more than once in the surveys I was involved in conducting was people would radically downplay how much the romance elements of a story mattered to them, even large portions of female respondents. When we would ask people in surveys what parts of the story they were most invested in, romances ALWAYS came out among the lowest ranked elements. And yet, any passing familiarity with fandom would tell you that finding is just WRONG. It’s wrong. People are just flat out lying about how much that matters to them because of the negative connotations we have around being invested in romance. And never mind the issue of erotic/sexual content. (I don’t mean sexual identity here, I mean sexy content). The only people who will occasionally cop to wanting the erotic fan service is young men (and even they are hesitant to do so in market research) and women frequently REFUSE to admit that stuff in market research, or they radically downplay how much it matters to them and in what ways. There is still so much stigma towards women expressing sexuality in that way. Not to mention, you have to fight tooth and nail to even include question about erotic/sexual content because oftentimes the clients don’t even want to go there at all, partly because it is awkward for everyone involved to sit around crafting market research questions to interrogate what makes people hot and bothered. That’s socially awkward for the researchers doing the research and the businesspeople who have to sit in rooms and listen to presentations about why more women find Spock sexier than Kirk. (Which was a real thing that happened with the original Star Trek, and the network couldn’t figure out why) Aside from people not have enough deeper level self-awareness to get at what they really like about media content, they also will lie or misrepresent certain things to you because they are trying to maintain certain self-narratives and are socially performing that version of themselves to researchers. *** Point 5 – Qualitative data is way more useful for understanding people’s relationships to media. However, quantitative data is way more valued and relied upon both due to larger market research industry standards and because quantitative data is just seen as harder/more factual than qualitative data. A lot of media market research involves gathering both qualitative and quantitative data and reporting jointly on both. (Sometimes you only do one or the other, depending on your objectives, but doing both is considered ‘standard’ and higher quality). However, quantitative data is heavily prioritized in reporting and when there is a conflict between what they see in qualitative versus quantitative data, the quant data is usually relied upon to be the more accurate of the two. This is understandable to an extent, because quantitative surveys usually involve responses from a couple thousand participants, whereas qualitative data involves typically a few dozen participants at most, depending on whether you did focus groups, individual interviews, or ‘diaries’/ethnography. The larger sample is considered more reliable and more reflective of ‘the audience’ as a whole. However, quantitative surveys usually have the flattest, least nuanced data, and they can only ever reflect what questions and choices people in the survey were given. In something like focus groups or individual interviews or ethnographies, you still structure what you ask people, but they can go “off script.” They can say things you never anticipated (as a researcher) and can explain themselves and their answers with more depth. In a survey, participants can only “say” what they survey lets them say based on the questions and question responses that are pre-baked for them. And as I’ve already explained, a lot of times these quantitative surveys are written by people with no expertise in media, fiction, or textual analysis, and so they often are asking very basic, not very useful questions. In sum, the data that is the most relied upon is the least informative, least nuanced data. It is also the MOST likely to reflect the responses of people who don’t actually qualify for the research but have become good at scamming the system to make extra money. With qualitative research, they are usually a little more careful screening people (poorly qualified participants still make it through, but not as often as with mass surveys, where I suspect a good 35% of participants, at least, probably do not actually qualify for the research and are just working the system). 

Most commonly, when market research gets reported to business decision-makers, it highlights the quantitative data, and uses the qualitative data to simply ‘color in’ the quantitative data. Give it a face, so to speak. Qualitative data is usually supplemental to quant data and used more to make the reports ‘fun’ and ‘warm’ because graphs and charts and stats by themselves are boring to look at in a meeting. (I’m not making this up, I can’t tell you how many times I was told to make adjustments on how things were reported on because they didn’t want to bore people in the meeting). (Sub-point – it is also worth noting that you can’t report on anything that doesn’t fit easily on a power point slide and isn’t easily digestible to any random person who might pick it up and read it. The amount of times I was told to simplify points and dumb things down so it could be made ‘digestible’ for a business audience, I can’t even tell you. It was soul crushing and another reason I stopped doing this job full time. I had to make things VERY dumb for these business audiences, which often meant losing a lot of the point I was actually trying to make) Point 5.1 – Because of the way that representative sampling works, quantitative data can be very misleading, particularly in understanding audience/fandom sentiments about media. As I’m sure most of you know, sampling is typically designed to be representative of the population, broadly speaking. So, unless a media company is specifically out to understand LGBTQ consumers or Hispanic/Latinx consumers, it will typically sample using census data as a template and represent populations that way. Roughly 50/50 male/female. Roughly even numbers in different age brackets, roughly representative samplings of the racial make-up of the country, etc. (FYI, they do often include a non-binary option in the gender category these days, but it usually ends up being like 5 people out of 2000, which is not enough of a sample to get statistical significance for them as a distinct group)   There is a good reason to do this, even when a show or movie has a disproportionately female audience, or young audience. Because they need enough sample in all of the “breaks” (gender, race, age, household income, etc.) to be able to make statistically sound statements about each subgroup. If you only have 35 African American people in your sample of 1000, you can’t make any statistically sound statements about that African American cohort. The sample is just too small. So, they force minimums/quotas in a lot of the samples, to ensure they can make statistically sound statements about all the subgroups they care about. They use ratings data to understand what their audience make up actually is. (Which also has major failings, but I’ll leave that alone for the minute) With market research, they are not usually looking to proportionately represent their audience, or their fandom; they are looking to have data they can break in the ways they want to break it and still have statistically significant subgroups represented. But that means that when you report on the data as a whole sample – which you often do – it can be very skewed towards groups who don’t make up as large a portion of the show’s actual audience, or even if they do, they don’t tend to be the most invested, loyal, active fans. Men get weighted equally to women, even when women make up 65% of the audience, and 80% of the active fandom. Granted, they DO break the data by gender, and race, and age, etc. and if there are major differences in how women versus men respond, or younger people versus older people, they want to know that...sometimes. But here’s where things get complex. So, if you are doing a sample of Supernatural viewers. And you do the standard (US census-based) sampling on a group of 2000 respondents (a pretty normal sample size in market research). ~1000 are going to be female. But with something they call “interlocking quotas” the female sample is going to be representative of the other groupings to a degree. So, the female sample will have roughly equal numbers of all the age brackets (13-17, 18-24, 25-34, etc.). And it will have roughly 10% non-heterosexual respondents, and so on. They do this to ensure that these breaks aren’t too conflated with each other. (For example, if your female sample is mostly younger and your male sample is mostly older, how do you know whether it is the gender or the age that is creating differences in their responses? You don’t. So, you have to make sure that all the individual breaks (gender, race, age) have a good mix of the other breaks within them, so groups aren’t getting conflated) But what that means is, Supernatural, whose core fandom is (at a conservative guess) 65% younger, queer, women, gets represented in a lot of statistical market research sampling as maybe 50-100 people, in a 2000-person survey. 50-100 people can barely move the needle on anything in a 2000-person survey. Furthermore, usually in the analysis of data like this, you don’t go beyond looking at 2 breaks simultaneously. So you may look at young female respondents as a group, or high income male respondents, or older white respondents, but you rarely do more than 2 breaks combined. And the reason for that is, by the time you get down to 3 breaks or more (young, Hispanic, women) you usually don’t have enough sample to make statistically significant claims. (It also just takes longer to do those analyses and as I explained in the beginning, they are always rushing this stuff). To do several breaks at a time you’d have to get MUCH larger samples, and that’s too expensive for them. And again, I want to stress, this type of sampling isn’t intended to sinisterly erase anyone. Kind of the opposite. It is intended to make sure most groups have enough representation in the data that you can make sound claims about them on the subgroup level. The problem is that it can create a very skewed sense of their overall audience sentiment when they take the data at ‘face value’ so to speak, and don’t weight segments based on viewership proportion, or fandom engagement, etc. Point 5.2 – Which leads me to my next point, which is that fandom activity that doesn’t have a dollar amount attached to it doesn’t make you a ‘valuable’ segment in their minds. One of the breaks they ALWAYS ask for in data like this is high income people, and people who spend a lot of MONEY on their media consumption. And they do prioritize those people’s responses and data quite a bit.   And guess what – young women aren’t usually high-income earners, and although some of them are high spenders on media, high spending on media and media related merch skews toward higher income people just because they HAVE more disposable income. Older white men are usually the highest income earners (absolutely no surprise) and they are more likely in a lot of cases to report spending a lot on the media they care about. Having expendable income makes you more important in the eyes of people doing market research than if you’ve spent every day for the last 10 years blogging excessively about Supernatural. They don’t (really) care about how much you care. They care about how much money you can generate for them. And given that young audiences don’t watch TV live anymore, and they give all their (minimal) expendable income to Netflix and Hulu, you with your Supernatural blog and your 101 essays about Destiel is all but meaningless to many of them (from a business standpoint) Now, some of them kind of understand that online fandom matters to the degree that fandom spreads. Fandom creates fandom. But if the fandom you are helping to create is other young, queer women with minimal income who only watch Supernatural via Netflix, well, that’s of very limited value to them as well. I don’t want to suggest they don’t care about you at ALL. Nor do I want to suggest that the “they” we are talking about is even a cohesive “they.” Different people in the industry have different approaches to thinking about fandom, consumer engagement and strategy, market research and how it ought to be understood/used, and so on. They aren’t a monolith. BUT, they are, at the end of the day, a business trying to make money. And they are never going to place the value of your blogging ahead of the concrete income you can generate for them. (Also, highly related to my point about people lying, men are more likely to SAY they have higher incomes than they do, because it’s an ego thing for them. And women are more likely to downplay how much money they spend on ‘frivolous’ things like fandom because of the social judgement involved. Some of the money gender disparity you see in media market research is real, but some of it is being generated by the gender norms people are falsely enacting in market research– men being breadwinners, women wanting to avoid the stereotype of being frivolous with money) *** In sum/tl;dr: Point 1 – Market research in general is not well conducted because of a variety of constraints including time, money, and the historical norms of how the industry operates (e.g., there being a large subsection of almost professionalized respondents who know how to game the system for the financial incentives) Point 2 – Media is a highly atypical kind of product being studied more or less as if it were equivalent to a coffeemaker or a pair of jeans. Point 3 – Most of the people studying media consumption in the market research field have no expertise or background in media, film, narrative, storytelling, etc. They are primarily people who were trained as social scientists and statisticians, and they aren’t well equipped to research media properties and people’s deeper emotional attachment and meaning-making processes related to media properties. Point 4(etc.) – Average consumers typically don’t have enough self-awareness or the vocabulary to explain the deep, underlying reasons they like pieces of media. Furthermore, when participating in market research, people lie and misrepresent their thoughts, behaviors, and emotional responses for a variety of reasons including social awkwardness and preserving certain self-narratives like “I’m above caring about dumb, low-brow things like romance.” Point 5 (etc.) – Quantitative data is treated as way more meaningful, valuable, and ‘accurate’ than qualitative data, and this is a particular problem with media market research because of how varied and complex people’s reactions to media can be. Also, the nature of statistical sampling, and how it is done, can massively misrepresent audience sentiments toward media and fail to apprehend deeper fandom sentiments and dynamics. There is also a strong bias towards the responses of high income/high spending segments, which tend to be older and male and white. Side but important point – Research reports are written to be as entertaining and digestible as possible, which sounds nice in theory, but in practice it often means you lose much of the substance you are trying to communicate for the sake of not boring people or making them feel stupid/out of their depth. (Because god forbid you make some high-level corporate suit feel stupid) *** What can be done about this? Well, the most primary thing I would recommend is for you to participate in market research, particularly if you are American (there’s a lot of American bias in researching these properties, even when they have large international fanbases). However, some international market research is done and I recommend looking into local resources for participation, where ever you are. If you are American, there are now several market research apps you can download to your smart phone and participate in paid market research through (typically paid via PayPal). Things like dscout and Surveys On the Go. And I know there are more. You should also look into becoming panelists for focus groups, particularly if you live near a large metropolitan area (another bias in market research). Just Google it and you should be able to figure it out fairly easily. Again, it is PAID, and your perspective will carry a lot more weight when it is communicated via a focus group or a dscout project, versus when it is shouted on Twitter. However, that’s merely a Band-Aid on the bigger issue, which I consider to be the fact that businesspeople think the Humanities is garbage, even when they make their living off it. There is virtually no respect for the expertise of fictional textual analysis, or how it could help Hollywood make better content. And I don’t know what the fix is for that. I spent 4 years of my life trying to get these people to understand what the Humanities has to offer them, and I got shouted down and dismissed so many times I stopped banging my head against that wall. I gave up. They don’t listen, mostly because conceding to the value of deep-reading textual analysis as a way to make better content would threaten the whole system of how they do business. And I mean that literally. So many people’s jobs, from the market researchers to the corporate strategists to the marketing departments to the writers/creatives to the C-level executives, would have to radically shift both their thinking and their modes of business operation and the inertia of ‘that’s the way it’s always been done’ is JUST SO POWERFUL. I have no earthly idea how to stop that train, let alone shift it to an entirely different track. BTW, if you want the deeper level of analysis of why I can’t stop rewatching Moneyball now that it’s been added to Netflix, the above paragraph should give you a good hint

[the7thcrow]

indulgence | part one

~

pairing: felix x (fem) vampire!reader series

summary: an indulgence grows to become dangerous, as the society of hampden college takes note of y/n’s new blood bag.

series masterlist.

word count: 4.9k

genre: forbidden love, angst (sorta), fluff, suggestive.

warnings: blood, suggestive content (kissing and a shirt comes off, nothing too crazy lmao), hook-ups (but nothing is explicitly described), strong language, and vampires ofc.

rating: 16+

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first fic, so i’m sorry if it’s a little messy. this is part one of what will be a series. i’d love to hear some feedback, so don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or message! i hope you enjoy!

...

..

.

You are late. The pattering of rain echos from atop your umbrella, the puddles of pooling water soaking your loafers as you hurry along the busy street. However, you pay no mind as the liquid seeps into your shoes, mud embedding itself along your pant leg. On a normal day, you’d scowl. You’d curse the shitty weather, and grumble as you marched home to change into a dry pair of shoes. Only today is different. Today it doesn’t matter, not when you have far greater troubles warranting your concern.

The Council isn’t pleased. They’d be even more upset, if that were even possible, if you arrived tardy. You can imagine their old, petulant faces, looking down on you with disgust. Perhaps even pity, seeing you as nothing more than a childish young girl, who’d been foolish enough to break her vow. You frown to yourself, that’s all they would ever see you as. It didn’t matter how the years passed by, to them you were, and would always be simply that. A child. Always younger, always naive. Most of all, always beneath them.

The headquarters becomes visible in the distance, clouded in the slight haze of fog. It appears to be like any other building on the Hampden Campus. Old and rustic, elegant in the way it was shaped and carved, a relic of history reflected in a modern day era. Only this building holds a far different tale than those surrounding it.

Far more bloody. Far more gruesome. A home to monsters.

Monsters like yourself.

You knock on the door. Twice, slowly. Then a pause, before three times quickly. A code, letting anyone inside know that you are, in fact, a member of The Society. 

The door opens with a creak, a young boy with electric blue hair peeking out through the crack. After recognizing your face, he smiles, ushering you in quickly as the door slams shut behind you.

“Y/N! It’s good to see you. It’s been a while, huh?” The boy says, casually leaning against the door. It has been a while, you never came to this god awful building unless it was absolutely necessary.

“I guess it has been. But it’s nice to see you too, Jeongin,” you speak warmly in return. You’ve known Jeongin for a couple years now, since he first arrived at The Society doorstep. Alone and confused. A freshling, having just been turned. While perhaps not physically, he’s certainly grown since then, in both confidence and courage.

Suddenly, the smile drops from his face, his expression becoming sullen. “I hear you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble,” he states. When you don’t respond, he continues. “It’s not true, is it? I know you wouldn’t-”

“Listen, Jeongin,” you cut him off quickly. You aren’t in the mood to be lectured, especially not by someone whose opinion you actually care about. “I’m already running late. I’ll catch up with you after, okay?”

“Wait, Y/N!” He calls after you, but you’ve already disappeared down the hall, heading towards the council room. You quickly cast a glance at your watch. Shit, five minutes late. They wouldn’t forget that.

With only a quick breath to gather yourself, you burst in through the large wooden doors. The silence in the council room is deafening, as all heads turn to face you. In all your life, you’ve never seen so many dissatisfied faces. 

“Ms. L/N,” the head councilman calls. He has an old face, embedded with wrinkles and a scalp of thinning white hair. Unlucky. He could have been beautiful, or at the very least, young. However, he must’ve been turned late. A pity, to stare at such a reflection for eternity. 

You stifle a laugh. The frown he always appeared to be wearing probably wasn’t helping. 

“Take a seat,” he states, motioning to the chair seated in the center of the room. How dramatic you think, to put you in the middle of so many staring eyes. While the council was only composed of three individuals, the room seems to be full of other lower ranked members of The Society. 

As you take your seat, your gaze wanders the room, landing on a familiar head of shaggy brown hair. His eyes bore into your own, his expression serious. Perhaps even angry, the longer he stares at you. 

You want to say something. Mostly, to ask him what the fuck he’s doing here. This isn’t any of Chan’s business, yet for whatever reason he has the audacity to stare at you as if it is. As if you will grant him answers. As if he deserves answers.

“Ms. L/N,” the chairman interrupts your thoughts. “Do you know why you’re seated here today?” 

Why are you seated here today? Well, that answer is complicated. How could you have possibly gotten yourself into such a mess? How could you have been so foolish? You knew the rules. You knew what was permitted and what was not. Yet, you chose to ignore these conditions.

Why? What could possibly have made you toss everything you’d promised to the side? 

Well, that story starts with a head of bright blonde hair, and a set of curious eyes.

~~~~

The library of Hampden College had become something of a second home to you. Late nights spent bent over a book, transcribing various philosophies and literature into latin. Sometimes greek, however you didn’t have quite the same knack for it. That’s where you found yourself tonight, your beaten down copy of The Iliad staring back at you from its place on the table. 

Your classics degree was coming along just fine. You didn’t mind the endless books to read and poems to analyze. Nor the papers you often found yourself crafting from this very spot in the corner of the library. It was always quiet, always solitary at this time. Even the night owl students having gathered their books, departing the library for a brief rest before their early classes the following morning.

Tonight however, was different. You heard the door creak open, glancing up as a boy appeared in the doorway. He had long blonde hair, fluffing at the nape of his neck. Sporting a sharp blazer and a pair of oxfords, you couldn’t deny he was well dressed. Perhaps that’s why he grabbed your attention immediately, you were attracted to effort. To someone who was put together, who cared. 

The boy took a seat just a few tables away from your own, gently setting his books down and disappearing into the maze of shelves to your left. You attempted to go back to your work, but couldn’t seem to find your focus. Who was this boy? You’d never seen him before in all your time at Hampden. Also, why would he possibly be at the library so late? You recognized the faces of those who while rare, might possibly be here at this time of night. He wasn’t one of them. 

You would remember if he was.

You strained your neck trying to find his figure, having lost him almost immediately.

“A fan of Homer?” A voice rang out from beside your ear. You jumped in shock, greeted by a sweet smile and wide eyes. The boy chuckled. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You smiled sweetly, trying to calm your beating heart. “No worries. And well, you translate the entirety of Book Eight overnight into Greek, and tell me if you could still consider yourself a ‘fan of Homer.’”

The boy laughed before beginning to pull a chair out beside you. “May I?” He asked.

Looking back, you should have said no. You had a lot more work to do, and near no time to do it. Not to mention of course, rejecting him initially could have saved you from this whole mess. Instead you nodded, a grin forming at the corners of your lips as he sat down. 

“What’s your name?” He asked. His voice was sweet, sultry. Alarming in just how deep it was, not quite fitting his bright and youthful exterior. 

“Y/N, classics department. Yourself?”

“Felix,” he answered. There it was, the first time you heard the name that would cause your undoing. “I’m majoring in history. Listen,” he began, leaning in slightly closer as if he were going to tell you a secret, his voice lowering further. “I must say, I’m in here all the time, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

You hummed, leaning in closer to him as well. His eyes glinted. “Well that’s simple, I’m assuming you don’t frequent the library at-” you glanced at your watch- “2:32 in the morning.”

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed with something like concern. “You’re here every night at this time? Why?”

“Hey,” you began, not wanting to lose the playful nature to the conversation. You’d heard enough concerned voices to last a lifetime already. “Aren’t you here this late yourself? You’re in no place to judge.”

He laughed, and you knew you could get used to that sound. “Fair enough, I’ll leave it be.”

“Why are you here this late, anyway?” You asked.

“Oh, so you get to know my secrets, but I can’t know yours?”

“Of course.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, resting his head on the desk, cradled by his crossed arms. “If you must know, I couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d read some of your classics, thought they might help me doze off.”

You shoved his arm, to which he feigned a groan of pain, clutching his shoulder. “Excuse you,” you laughed. “I have a lot of Homer to struggle through, and no time for your cheap shots. You can go ahead and leave now.”

You were surprised when he got to his feet, worried for a moment he’d taken you seriously and was actually about to make his exit. Instead, he disappeared into the philosophy section, emerging with a copy of The Odyssey. Felix flopped down back in his chair beside you, extending his feet on top of the table and leaning backwards. 

“Well, then I guess I’ll suffer along with you,” he said. Without another word, he flipped towards the first page.

Felix was a good person to study with. Well, technically you weren’t studying with him, but nonetheless it was nice to have him in the room. He didn’t bother you, didn’t speak, just let you do your work. Sometimes you’d look up and meet his gaze, his eyes imploring you. Curious. Mischievous. 

Dangerous.

“Alright,” you yawned after an hour or so had passed by, stretching your arms high in the air. “I’m done.”

He smiled, slowly closing his book and setting it down on the table. “Yeah? Finally going to go home and sleep?” 

“Sleep? What’s that?” You said, playfully scoffing. “Nah, it’s already past 3:30, it’ll be 4 by the time I get back to my apartment. Not worth it at this point.”

“Hmm,” Felix hummed, a flicker of mischief in his growing smile. “What ever will you do to pass the time?”

“I don’t know,” you returned, excitement building in your chest. “But I suppose I’ll leave you now. You still have about 3 quarters of The Odyssey to get through, and I don’t want to tear you away from-”

You shouldn’t have been surprised when his lips crashed into yours, but you were. You let out a small “mff” against the sudden impact. It took your brain a second to catch up to speed on what was happening. Here you were, with this incredibly beautiful boy of whom you literally just met, kissing in the middle of the library. 

Your second thought was about how you’d never done this before. Not kissing someone, hell you’d done a lot more than just that. But never a stranger, and certainly never a human, for that matter. You had to be careful with who you got close to, you never knew who could be dangerous, who could be a hunter. Besides, The Society had rules, and this alone was undoubtedly breaking a few of them.

So what the hell were you doing?

You should stop this, you thought. But the more you settled into a rhythm, the more your worries trailed from your mind. Felix was a good kisser. A really good kisser. His lips were soft, warm, his breath sharp with the taste of mint. When the dork had a chance to pop a tic tac you didn’t know, but it made you smile against him. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, leaning into him. He groaned in response, moving his hands down your figure, settling in on your waist. Carefully he began to fiddle with the buttons at the bottom of your blouse, and with that it all suddenly became real.

“We can’t do this,” you breathed, finally breaking away from him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I went too far, I-” he began to apologize, frantically removing his hands from your body and shifting backwards into his chair.

“No,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips at his sweetness. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, gently tugging him closer to you. “We can’t do this here.” 

The Society had rules, plenty. Human’s, in any sort of relationship, were out of the question. Public displays of affection with even your own kind, especially of the more vulgar sort, were off limits as well. The idea was to not bring attention to yourselves, to not cause a scene. And if you were going to break one of these rules so terribly, you figured you could at least pay the respect to do so privately.

“Okay,” he mumbled, placing his forehead against your own. “Where should we go?”

“My place? It’s a little far from here, but I don’t have any roommates. So..”

Felix smiled, planting a soft, lingering kiss at the nape of your neck. “Lead the way.”

~~~~

The walk over to your apartment wasn’t awkward per say, it was simply...charged. Felix had his arm looped around your own, making your way silently down the dark, lantern lit path through campus. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest, a desire thrumming down inside you, resurfacing. It had been a long time since you’d last been with someone. That last person being Chan, your ex as of eight months ago.

Things had been good with Chan. Great even, in the beginning at least. He was intense, thoughtful. He loved you deeply. Most of all, Chan understood. Like you, he was a member of The Society. He was under every restriction you were, and felt all the same frustrations. 

Of course, not all good things can last. Eventually your relationship began to sour. Your arguments became full on brawls. Your differences and quirks became unbearable. You couldn’t be in the same room without being at one another's throats. You were the one who finally decided to end things. 

Chan was the only man you’d ever loved, and since him you’d never entertained the thought of being with another. Until now, that is. You glanced towards Felix, who was staring ahead down the street, his eyes dark. You could feel his own desire radiating off of him, visible in the way he slowly swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. Besides, Felix could give you something more. Something Chan could never.

No. You stopped yourself. That wouldn’t be happening tonight. It would only make things more complicated, more dangerous. Still, you could feel it deep inside you, pounding for control. That familiar, incessant hunger. The more you tried to ignore it, the more it was there. Becoming stronger as your ears focused in on Felix’s heart beat, the sound of blood pumping through his veins.

You were pulled from your thoughts as the sight of your apartment complex appeared in front of you. Quietly you entered, making your way up the stairs and towards your own door. Releasing your arm from Felix’s, you fumbled for your keys in your purse. Giving him a small smile, you twisted your key in the lock, and allowed him inside.

The moment you closed your apartment door, all bets were off. Felix tossed his books onto your kitchen table, clashing into you with a speed that almost made you lose your own breath. You felt your back press against the wall behind you, Felix’s lips devouring your own. Desperate and wanting.

He quickly revisited the buttons of your blouse, this time starting at the top and beginning to make his way down. All the meanwhile his lips traced your neck, gently brushing against your skin. With every new kiss fueling your own desire, you slowly began to rock your hips into his own. This was escalating. Fast. As he finished with the last button, he allowed your blouse to drop from your shoulders, smiling to himself as he took you in. 

“Your turn,” you breathed, tugging at the collar of his shirt as a signal to take it off. He did so, absent-mindedly tossing it aside into your living room. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him, staring deeply into your eyes. Then he proceeded to say the very last thing you ever expected him to:

“Look at your eyes… You haven’t fed in weeks, have you?”

You slapped his hand away and shoved him off of you, rushing to the otherside of the room, putting the coffee table between yourselves. “How-How do you?” You stammered, physically unable to form a complete sentence. How could he possibly know what you were? How did he even know you existed?

Felix’s eyes widened, clearly shocked by your reaction. “No, no. Don’t worry!” He said frantically, outstretching his hand to you. “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you or anything. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, disbelievingly. “Yeah? And how do I know that?” You let this man into your home, your safe space. How could you have been so stupid?

“Look, I grew up around Vampires okay? My neighbors, back in my childhood home, they were like you. I know the signs. I know how your eyes blow out when you’re hungry, the way they glaze over when you haven’t fed in a while. That’s it. I didn’t even realize until I got a good look at you, back when you were translating. It’s no big deal, really.”

You scoffed. No big deal? Felix didn’t seem to realize just how big of a deal it actually was. Humans weren’t supposed to know what you were, certainly not at Hampden. The Society had made well sure of that. God, if The Council saw you now...

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I should have told you back at the library. I honestly didn’t think it would freak you out this much. That’s on me,” he said, inching slightly closer to you. Despite yourself, you didn’t move away.  “I’m serious though, it’s been a while since you last fed. Hasn’t it?”

A while was an understatement. The Society had been going through a shortage of blood bags, after having severed their connections with one of the nearby hospitals. Meaning if you wanted to drink, it would have to be from one of their Certified Donors. Which was another, fancier and far more innocent way of saying prisoners. These were humans who had given their lives to The Society, some willingly and others not so much.

You didn’t like going to their quarters. Located in the basement of the main district, it was always quiet down there. Always solemn. You’d never been to a place lacking so much hope. You’d only gone once, and drinking from that man still haunts you to this day. The way he didn’t move or speak, or even wince when your fangs broke his skin. The way his eyes were hollow and empty. How when you were done he simply laid down in his bed and turned away from you, without another word. 

The Certified Donors were what made you begin to hate The Society in the first place. Since then, your resentment only seemed to grow. 

You sighed, walking past him and flopping onto your couch. “Yeah, it’s been a while,” you confessed.

Felix carefully approached you. Instead of seating himself next to you, he got down on his knees, resting a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay, you can use me. I don’t mind.”

You were ready to tell him no, the word lingering on the tip of your tongue. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. Perhaps it was your hunger, the fact that a few more weeks in this drought, you might actually become ill. 

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you wanted to disobey the society. That this little act of rebellion, this utterly wrong indulgence, was what made your desire grow unbearable, unchained. You hated The Council, you hated the Certified Donor system, and you hated the way they had such a firm grip and control on your life.

A beautiful boy was seated in front of you, begging you to drink from him. How could you possibly say no? Better yet, why would you say no? To deprive yourself of something so great, for something you despised so deeply seemed ridiculous. That was the moment your judgment lapsed, that you crossed the point of no return. If you drank from Felix, there would be no going back. If the council found out, there would be consequences. Big ones.

But who doesn’t love a little risk?

You sunk down to meet him on the floor, staring at his bare chest. You could hear his heart pumping, its pace quickening the closer you got to him. 

“Are you sure about this?” You asked.

“Yes,” he whispered. You shifted your position. Not quite seating yourself in his lap, but hovering above, your knees on either side of him. 

“This might hurt a little bit,” you warned. You extended your fangs, approaching his neck, carefully. You didn’t realize until then how nervous you were. It had been a long time since you’d fed from a human. You’d drank from Chan of course, but he was also a vampire, and your blood didn’t have quite the same effect. There was pleasure in it, usually accompanied in moments of ecstasy, but it didn’t replenish you. It didn’t heighten your senses, nor fill you with energy. Most of all, it didn’t satisfy your hunger, your thirst. Not at all.

Felix’s blood would. 

You kept this in mind as you finally plunged your fangs into his neck. Felix let out a gasp, tensing beneath you, his hand clutching onto your arm for support. The taste of his blood grazed your tongue, metallic and warm. Delicious.

Fuck, did blood ever taste this good before? You didn’t think so.

The sweet taste consumed you. Intoxicating. Raw. Cascading over your mind in a blanket of pleasure, reveling in the way its effects seeped over your body. You could feel your mind growing sharper, your senses becoming more alert. It was a relief, after weeks of blurry weakness, of being too close to humanity in your thirst. You felt yourself again, the monster you are. The monster you are glad to be.

Here you were powerful. Invincible. And all you wanted was more. More. More.

More of this power, this sensation, this strength. This is what feeding should be. What feeding can give you. Not from a blood bag, nor a helpless prisoner, but from someone you want. Someone you desire. Someone who desires you in return.

It was as you felt Felix’s grip on your arm loosen that you finally broke away, breathing hard as you caught your breath. Felix’s eyes shifted to yours lazily, dazed. Perhaps even delirious. For a moment you feared that you’d taken too much. He blinked slowly, his eyes regaining focus.

Then he smiled. “Shit Y/N…” he began, his voice appearing more of a croak. “That felt really fucking good.” 

You grinned, leaning into him and pressing a series of kisses up along his jaw. Felix shivered, allowing his hands to slowly slide up your figure. Wanting.

“Yeah?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. “Then how about we continue where we left off?”

      ~~~~

The next morning you woke to the sound of your alarm buzzing, sunlight peeking through the opening of your drapes. You heard a low groan next to your ear, quickly becoming aware of the hand wrapped around your waist. 

So last night really happened. The reality of your situation dawned on you. You’d both drank from and fucked a human. There was no going back now, you’d completely disobeyed The Society.

Worst of all? You didn’t care. At least, not near as much as you should have. 

You shifted to face Felix, seeing his eyes still closed, eyebrows furrowed. “Hey,” you whispered, planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “We have to get up. I have class.”

He groaned again in protest, shaking his head and burying his face into the crook of your neck. Between last night's events and the ringing of your alarm, you both only got about two hours of sleep, and that was being generous. This was no problem for you, as while sleep was a luxury, it was not a necessity. The same didn’t go for Felix.

“Come on,” you laughed, worming out of his grasp. “You’ll be fine, I’ll go make us some coffee.”

You rolled out of bed, throwing on Felix’s discarded shirt and heading towards your kitchen. Flicking on the radio, you felt oddly blissful as you grounded the coffee beans into a filter. It had been a long time since there’d been another person in your apartment. It made the space seem less… haunted. No longer lingering with the essence of Chan’s ghost. It felt fresh. New. 

Felix emerged from your bedroom, rubbing his eyes sleepily, sporting only his khaki’s from the past day. His gaze met yours and he smiled. “So, I take it my shirt is yours now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning forward over your kitchen counter. Felix bent down, causing you to become nose-level with one another. The close proximity made your heart race.

“Mean,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss you softly. There was no unchained desire, no promise of more. It was simple, warm. A morning of peace after a night of wildness.

You could get used to this, you thought.

The thought sunk in your chest like a stone. This wouldn’t be as simple as you wanted to be, as you needed it to be. There would be sacrifices to make, and cautions you’d have to adhere to. You had to get the truth out in the open. Better to rip the bandaid off now rather than later.

 “Felix, you can’t tell anyone about this.” You said. The smile faded from Felix’s face, and for a moment he looked so… hurt. He stepped back.

“About the feeding? Y/N, I wouldn’t tell anyone what you are, don’t worry about-”

“No, not just the feeding. About us. About any of it.”

Felix opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly closed it. His gaze hardened. “Ah. Got it,” he stated sharply, grabbing his blazer and motioning to the door. “I’ll just head out then.”

“Wait, Felix! No, it’s not like that,” you said, rushing around the kitchen island and reaching for his arm. He turned around to face you, his expression wounded. “Listen, I don’t know how it was with your old neighbors, but here at Hampden things are different. There’s certain rules we have to follow, and what you and I did? Well, that broke about a hundred of them.”

Felix was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Okay… But what do you mean rules? Who’s enforcing them? Hampden?”

“No, it’s bigger than that. There’s a group of us here, a society. There are rules we abide by, and they’re meant to keep us safe. Keep us united,” you explained.

“Like a cult?” Felix asked, and you had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Well, if that helps you, then whatever. Yeah, sure. A cult.”

“Where do you-”

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off. “But that’s all I can really tell you, at least for now. Honestly, the less you know, the better. Just for safety’s sake.”

“Oh. Alright,” Felix said, his lips pursed. He wasn’t pleased, that much was obvious.

“I know this sucks, I’m sorry. But if we want to keep doing this-”

“Wait,” Felix interrupted, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “You want to keep doing this? I thought you’d get in trouble?”

You smiled, and were pleased to see the corners of his mouth curve up in return. “I’ve already risked getting myself in trouble.” You trailed your finger along the bare of his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. He was so alive, so real. And it only made you want him more. Perhaps, that’s why he wanted you as well. You were unpredictable, wild. A challenge. 

A match made in hell.

“I dug myself a grave, Lix.” You looked up at him, entranced by the curiosity swimming in his eyes. “Might as well lie in it.”

~~

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