#never mentioned the Experiments or why the prison exists to begin with

[llitchilitchi]

oooookay, I'm not super versed in dsmp lore and I don't even really know the whole events in chronological order. but!!!! I love your monarchy restoration au. your art is so gorgeous. and the emotions there ... man

can you please give me some guideline of what should I know from the og lore to understand your au? or maybe some summary of your au?

just talk about it I really want to interact!!! :D

hi, editing Li here, the summary ended up being over 2k words. then I realised you asked for a summary to the AU, which is part of the masterpost. I went over the lore in brief, I promise it's just brief despite the length and doesn't tackle All there is to the SMP

okay, lemme try and speedrun the lore of the dream smp - given that the story of monarchy restoration centers around the Dream Team, or at least the parts that I shared, I'll be focusing on them. this will get long and I'm really sorry jghdfjd

the core ideas you should know is that: Dream, George and Sapnap were close friends, but they drifted apart as time went on due to conflicts on the server. Dream crowned George as King, but then due to George doing badly as a king and this position putting him in danger made him dethrone George, which made the rift between them grow. they were once inseparable, and now George and Sapnap thought of Dream as obsessed maniac who no longer cared for them as people. after Dream got put in prison and tortured, he broke out, and this is where the lore of Monarchy Restoration diverges from the original story of the SMP and becomes an AU, as instead of reuniting with Punz as intended, Dream is too weak and injured to do much and runs into George, who takes him in.

now for the Actual Lore Recap:

at the very beginning of it all, there were two friends - Dream and George. they found a little piece of the world for themselves, and everything was fine. then a third came, Sapnap, and then more people joined, and they lived in the same house in the middle of the lake and things were okay.

months passed, and fights turned into splits in the community and a community turned to factions, and the conflicts of factions were intertwined with interpersonal fights. (the interpersonal conflicts? the disc saga, aptly named over 2 music discs that were used as a bartering chip and have a pretty good significance in the overall story. put a pin into that.)

the two factions at play were the (retroactively named) Greater SMP and L'Manburg which declared independence from the Greater SMP on basis of xenophobia. they lost the war against the Greater SMP, the final fight being a duel between Dream and the original owner of the discs (Tommy). a deal was struck after, where Tommy offered his discs in exchange for independence (or independance, if you want to stick to the original text)

an important aspect of this war is to note that Dream offered one of the people on L'Manburg's side a deal - they betray the faction and get to become the King of the Greater SMP. this establishes monarchy in the story. they accepted, betrayed their allies, got the role of a King with the promise of 'staying neutral and uninvolved in further conflicts'.

I'll breeze through the Manberg era for the most part (despite being the most interesting one, imo). L'Manburg ran a presidental election, the original leader (who wanted to take power by scamming the whole thing) lost, and the new leader of L'Manburg (renamed to Manberg, because they're not taking any L's anymore) exiled the OG president and his right hand man Tommy, things went bad. the two exiled men started a new faction (Pogtopia) that they hoped to use to take back their "rightful place" and were given support from Dream because the new Manberg was a little too expansive. (he ended up siding with Manberg last minute for Yet Unknown Reasons, we will get to them, again, put a pin in it)

the King of the SMP very vocally sided wih Pogtopia, which was a betrayal to the core principles of their position as King. the King was dethroned, and Dream put his best friend George on the throne, with him and Sapnap serving as his knights.

upon the defeat of Manberg by Pogtopia (since Manberg's authoritarian regime ended up driving people out and most joined Pogtopia, Dream and his people fought for Manberg only as mercenaries), one of the core allies of Pogtopia - an anarchist, the blood god himself, Technoblade - turned on his former allies because they told him it was about defeating a tyrant, but all they wanted was to kill one tyrant and put their own people in his place. Techno then fled into exile.

next chapter begins after the rebuild of L'Manberg, yet the L' is back, under a new rule given that the OG president uhhh Blew Up The Country with several megatons of TNT and then persuaded his father into killing him.

King George is vibing. he is unaware of all faction wars, builds himself a holiday house far away from everything, enjoys time with new friends, all while Dream grows more and more distant due to trying to keep what is left of his old life together.

the reason the home is important to mention is that, once peace has settled over the world, Tommy decided that the discs that he traded for independence are His, in fact, and he needs to steal them - or barter for them in any shitty way possible. he still had tons of grudges against Dream, and in one of these half-grudge fueled fuckeries, he and one other character set fire to George's holiday home.

Dream found it in ruin and still burning when he came see his friend with a bouquet of flowers. there are several interpretations to this, and since Dream himself never really specified, there's a speculation that he thought that this event maybe killed his best friend, and given that George is the King of the Greater SMP, an attack by the right hand man of the current L'Manberg president on the physical property of the King of a rival faction is de-facto a war declaration.

so we are presented with an ultimatum, where Tommy is either exiled or a war starts. (exile won. it was voted on by the fans we wanted that bitch Out. this is not quite as important but the dynamics shaping up between Tommy and Dream had a massive impact on the plot.)

while Tommy is in exile, George becomes rather friendly with a new budding faction on the server. his involvement with them means that his neutrality vow was broken, and given how frequently he got harassed by L'Manberg, Dream decided to dethrone George, and put the previous King back in power. this dethronement caused a huge rift to form between George and Dream (and Sapnap, who sided with George) and the three of them fell apart with the parting words from George to Dream being "Just say you hate me."

I'm sure this won't have any lasting effects on the man who was tearing himself apart to make the world the same as it was when it was just the two of them

now in brief: the L'Manberg cabinet decided to take revenge on Techno after he turned on them after they tricked him into helping them against Manberg. the punishment? execution. how did they achieve that? they hunted him down, threatened to kill his animals, told him he will get a court process but just set him up in a guillotine. Dream intervened and saved him, thus earning a favour from Techno because both of them are traumatized warriors with trust issues that rather treat kindness as currency. Tommy runs away from the place he was restricted to in his exile, moves in with the anarchist-in-retirement-gone-pacifist Techno, the two of them end up teaming up for the time being as Techno protects him from Dream. L'Manberg in the meantime decides to host a festival to show that they are peaceful now, and nothing bad will happen again :) it takes place a week after they unlawfully tried to execute Techno, and the festival is meant to serve as public execution of Dream. However, the festival is cut short when Dream storms in because the original house where he and his friends lived - known as the Community House - got blown up. he blames L'Manberg and Tommy, and after a short conflict that happens then he declares that L'Manberg has a day to evacuate and him and Techno agree to blow up the country. a second time. and completely now.

so L'Manberg is gone now and the members of the faction scatter. within days, Tommy receives an invitation from Dream to come get his discs (I didn't know how to include it, but after the whole 'setting George's house on fire' Tommy tried to barter for the discs and for Dream to ignore him setting the house on fire, all while trying to leverage things that Dream held dear. attachment to objects and people is a running theme in here. Dream then proceeded to give his "I don't give a fuck about Spirit, I don't give a fuck about anything actually" speech, basically telling everyone they have nothing to leverage against him and he will destroy them if he needs to and them holding something hostage won't bother him.) This sets the stage for the Disc Finale. Tommy and his best friend Tubbo make their way to a specific location, far away, all alone, where they are to fight against Dream to win the discs back. they lose spectacularly and Dream reveals his "grand plan" where he has a vault to gather "all the precious items people own to control them" (and I wrote "grand plan" because it was a farce. it was a show, it was staged, all just to get Tommy to leave him the fuck alone and stop meddling with his greater plan. what is the greater plan? fuck if I knew.)

the whole thing is then intercepted when a large group of people, one of which is Dream's right-hand-man Punz who was running errands for him before, and more importantly, Sapnap. he's beaten and just as he is about to be killed, he reveals his secret: the reason he sided with manberg, all those months ago, is because in exchange for his services he got a book of necromancy. he can now bring people back to life. because of this, he is locked up in an inescapable prison in case anyone needs to use the book.

Sapnap and George are very much under the impression that Dream doesn't care for them. Sapnap comes visit Dream once, promises to return, never does. George doesn't even bother coming in, instead sleeping his days away and it catches the eye of a deity who wears the same face as his beloved Dream, and he loses himself to the illusion of being reunited with his best friend in a world where everything is perfect.

another important thing to note is that Sapnap stumbles upon a Book Of Death (yes, its death note, sapnap is a weeb, it even functions the exact same.) the thing about the book of death and the book of necromancy is that they are both books that were placed into the world by the deity wearing Dream's face (known as DreamXD, or XD for short, yes it's a little silly) and XD reveals to another character (a somewhat-deity, Foolish) that the books and their owners are intertwined in a way, and if one were to die the other dies with him.

so we have three friends, one locked up in prison and seen as nothing more but an object to use (Dream), the other a man who watched his friends, his parents and his lovers fall apart (Sapnap) and a man who cannot face the world falling apart and the loss of his friends so he gives into an illusion created by god in his dreams. and all of them have a strange tie to a stranger god.

this very fractured relationship the three have, along with their ties to the god, were the main driving force behind making this AU.

the last thing you should probably know is that Dream was locked in prison for 10 months, starved, tortured, with little to no social contact until Techno was locked in with him, but with the use of some fun magic Techno managed to escape and then "return the favour" from when Dream saved him from execution, and broke him out of prison.

there's a lot of little nuanced things I probably forgot about but this is the core of it all I hope it helps

[inolienkiki]

I’ve never seen this one god-tier Alcatraz vs. the Evil Librarians joke mentioned by anyone, so I might as well explain it myself. For some reason, nobody seems to notice it, but for me it hit easily as hard or harder than the Gak thing from the last book.

So, ever since I learned about the Smedrys being named after prisons, I was waiting for a cousin named Elba. Not only would it make sense as a name and as a prison, I thought it’d be kinda cute and fit the style. Unfortunately, this never quite happened… but the fact that I had my eye on it let me catch EXACTLY why.

For those of you who aren’t familiar, Elba was the island on which Napoleon was imprisoned after his defeat. It’s a fairly well known prison, I think— at least, more well known than ADX or Kazan (right? Tell me I’m not missing important prison facts?) The issue here, which should stand out to any Attentive Readers- as Alcatraz might say- is that France doesn’t exist.

It’s never really addressed specifically, or explained in detail, but it’s sort of a recurring gag in the books. The entire concept and history of France, including the Napoleonic Wars, is a lie invented by Librarians. I should specify that this is canon, not just a joke, and not something Alcatraz made up in the one book where he pretends to be stupid. The world map at the beginning of the books is mostly focused on the Free Kingdoms, but if you take a quick look at the Hushlands silhouettes it’s pretty clear that France is missing.

So, no France, no Napoleon, no Elba. When I first noticed this, I was impressed by the level of detail that went into the continuity of even this dumb joke. And then…

(Ok, now that I’ve revealed this post as completely incomprehensible, spoilers below the cut.)

I went into book 5 with this understanding: no France, no Napoleon, no Elba. But fortunately— maybe even as intended, though I have no idea whether any of this is common knowledge— I had missed the point. Elba is the name of the island, not the prison, which has its own name.

So I was reading the Highbrary infiltration, processing Alcatraz’s complex feelings about cousin Dif, and then— I can’t remember where— someone finally addressed Dif by his full name. D’If Smedry. And immediately, dozens of alarm bells went off in my head. France doesn’t exist! Napoleon doesn’t exist! His prison on the island of Elba— the Chateau D’If— isn’t real! WHO IS THIS GUY??

An incredible experience indeed.

[fortunatelychaoticphantom]

So, just to be clear, The Good Place is the greatest show in history, it is my heart, my soul, my everything. That said, after the bilionth rewatch, I need to talk about a couple of things:

1. Not a single person in the real Good Place should have been okay with the concept of the Bad Place from the beginning of time. The thing is that eternity, of any kind, is inherently cruel, and I was so happy that the show actually delt with it and acknowledged the problem of it, both as punishment and as a reward. But it makes no sense to me whatsoever that a person who is presumably good and caring would reach paradise and learn that there are people who will never ever reach it, and not immediately demand to talk to the manager or start a riot. In fact, even the people in the bad place wouldn't accept that. And not necessarily just about themselves! Knowing that people will suffer endlessly for the rest of time, regardless of their actions, is beyond horrific for the majority of people in the world, let alone ones who get into heaven. Even in the fake Good Place, there's no way that someone like Chiddi wouldn't be disturbed by it. You can say that Eleanor and Jason had other things to worry about, and that Tahani was too self centered at the beginning to care (though I don't think she was so self centered that she would become that cruel as to think that eternity of suffering is okay for anyone), but to know that your loved ones would never be there with you, that humans will suffer for the rest of time... I don't know how anyone could live with that. Or technically not-live with it, I guess. You know. Cause they're dead. Anyway, I know that we wouldn't have a show if this wasn't the case, but it still doesn't really make sense once you think about it.

2. Even if the humans in the existing system wouldn't revolt over the cruelty of infinity, I feel like the accountants should have. Technically speaking, within the existing system amazingly good people and generally good ones still went to the Bad Place because they had like 1,150,000 points instead of 1,200,000, and not to mention every other person with points between zero and the lower cut of the Good Place. The system makes no sense from its inception. Why on earth should a person with more than a million point literally burn in hell? Why would accountants be okay with this? To see so many green points go to hell? It's horrible.

3. Also, infinity doesn't apply only to humans - it is cruel and unfair that all non-humans in this world are immortal, and on top of that, forced into a job essentially from birth. They did touch it with Michael both changing his job and later becoming mortal, but it's such a shame that the possibility wasn't given to all non-humans. When your only options are forced labour (that you can't choose the type of) or brutal death ("retirement"), you are just as much of a prisoner of the system as the humans.

4. Why exactly is there a system? I know it is irrelevant within the frame of the show, but I am genuinely curious in the philosophical aspect of this, especially since the system in the show is explicitly detached from any religion, religiosity and divinity. Why are humans judged at all? Why only humans? What right or authority do the non-humans have to operate this system and judge humans in the first place? Does this imply a higher being does exist? Or is the universe just really into burocracy, randomly placing atoms in the shape of accountants and fire monsters?

4. Doug Forcett shouldn't have had any points at all. His motivation was just as curupt as Tahani's, and so it didn't matter how much good he did.

5. Funny enough, through the experiment Michael actually found a more moral and fair way to torture people, regardless of how it revealed the flaws in the system. This goes back to the fact that a lot of good people and just normal average people filled the Bad Place. It was established that the Bad Place workers truly believe in justice. They don't do their job because they're evil, they do it because it's their part in keeping the universe balanced. But I can't believe that a demon looks at essentially a good person's file and says "yeah they deserve to get their intestines pulled out of their ass for the rest of eternity". If the revolt wouldn't start from the humans or the accountans (or angles for that matter), it should have started with the demons, who actually deal with the consequences of the flaws in the system every day. Michael's solution is what the Bad Place should have been from the beginning - a tailored torture that fits the crimes of the individual human. Finding out that they're in the Bad Place didn't actually harm the torture at all, it's a form of torture all of its own and should have been incorporated into the new technique (which, technically, it was in the end, when it became the new system). Beyond that, it's just a question of the length of the punishment, which brings us full circle to the first point.

Still the best show ever.

[tounderstandthesoul]

Chapter 17: Fear of unknown

It continues in the depths of the factory, the end of Chapter 3, and the end of your lifelessness, or rather the beginning.

After the events of the last chapter, DogDay and you go back to the group, but strangely disgusted looks are directed at you, because a part of your past, when you were alone, is brought back: how you hurt Kissy out of fear.

Despite all these obstacles in your way, you make progress, and there's even a little bit of acceptance from some of the critters.

But of course, nothing remains even remotely calm.

---

And here we go with another chapter of what I personally consider my most dream-driven story at the moment!

As mentioned before, we’re continuing right where we left after the last chapter, where things got a bit more intimate between DogDay and the reader. Honestly, it was about time.

But of course, the past shouldn’t be forgotten. In particular, I’m referring to the "I Don’t Want to Exist" chapter, as this one builds upon it in some ways.

Anyway, enjoy the read, and don’t forget to leave some support!

---

If you have ever thought about your life, it was never out of hope or longing for a better future.

It was always out of desperation.

Always with the question, why you? Out of hundreds, maybe thousands of children who were locked up in Playcare, why were you the one who had to endure all that?

The cold labs, the endless tests, the pain that didn't stop. The beeping of the machines, the voices of the scientists behind mirrored glass, the rustling of their notes as they recorded every detail of your suffering.

The screams - not just yours, but those of others, somewhere in the dark corners of the facility. Some fell silent at some point. Others did not.

Your only thought that somehow kept you alive was also the most absurd.

Life is a goddamn joke.

Eventually, everything will come to nothing.

You've known it for as long as you can remember. You were different. You were the mirror between life and death. The one who could see, touch and transform souls. That made you special. And yet that was exactly what made your life hell.

You, who could help. Who could save people, bring them hope - suffered under them more than anyone else.

They called you an angel. They called you a gift. But all you ever were to them was an experiment.

Living. Dying. Creating. Consuming.

Valueless. Meaningless. It's all pointless.

You, your family, your fantasies, your friends and your enemies.

They'll all die anyway.

It'll all be gone, one day.

This world is just a toy chest.

You can play with it while you can, but when the time comes, it's all over.

The chest is shut, and there's no reopening it.

You will live. You will die. And no one will remember you. Never.

But now?

Everything is different now.

Because now there's a reason why you keep going.

DogDay.

What exactly is it about her that stops you from just giving up?

Maybe her smile. The first time you saw her - there, locked up in the Playcare prison - you recognized it. It was the most beautiful, honest, warmest smile you'd ever seen. How could someone who was in such an environment still shine like that?

Or is it their appearance?

The greatness that elevates her above all others. The power she radiates with every movement, with every decision. She doesn't just walk - she strides. She leads. The way her ears twitch slightly when she speaks. The warmth she radiates, even in an environment that is cold and dead. Her soft fur, the smell that makes you feel safe.

Maybe it's their behavior.

Even down here, in the factory. Even with death around every corner. Even with all the blood on all the hands.

DogDay stays.

Her mere presence gives courage. She doesn't say much, but she doesn't have to. It's enough that she's there. That she looks at you when you get too lost in your thoughts again. That she puts her paw on your shoulder when you think you're losing everything again.

She doesn't see you like the others.

She doesn't see you as broken, not as a monster.

Not as an experiment.

She sees you as you.

But all this misses the point.

Because nothing really describes what it is for you.

Because nothing really describes what happened earlier.

Every kiss, every touch, every look from her has been burned into your mind, and no matter how hard you try to focus on the road, you can't.

Your body still feels hot, your knees are weak, and your heart is beating far too fast, as if it were still there - in that tiny space, trapped between her and the wall, between her warmth, her grip, her voice.

DogDay walks beside you, her big paw clasped tightly around your hand as if she doesn't want to let you go. The walk through Playcare is silent, only the echo of your footsteps echoes across the cold grass, but you can't enjoy it, can't even really notice it, because your head is catapulting back again and again.

The way she looked at you after kissing you almost unconscious.

The way her teeth had touched your skin, not gently, not carefully, but demanding, as if she was afraid of losing you again.

The way her voice echoes in your head, deep, rough, possessive.

"Let's find somewhere more secluded."

You swallow hard and lower your eyes. DogDay's hand still holds yours tightly, almost as if she knows what's going on in your head. She doesn't say anything, just continues to drag you through Playcare, past all the places that were once your hell - and now barely feel real.

You wonder if she feels it too.

Whether her heart is pounding like yours.

Whether her thoughts were as lost in the moment as yours.

"You're very quiet," she says suddenly, her voice soft but with a hint of concern.

You blink and exhale slowly. "I..." You don't know what to say. Do you want to tell her? That you can still feel her lips pressed against yours? That your skin is still tingling in the places she touched? That you don't know how to deal with these new feelings?

"I'm just thinking," you mumble instead.

"About earlier?"

You hold your breath.

She knows. Of course she knows.

You nod slightly, but don't dare look at her.

"Me too," she then admits.

You lift your head. DogDay looks straight ahead, her expression calm, but there's something in her eyes - something deeper, something you can't quite read.

"It's weird, isn't it?" She squeezes your hand lightly. "That we found each other like this. That you're... here."

Your heart beats faster.

"I don't know if it's fate or just a stupid coincidence," she continues, "but I know I won't want to go back if you don't come with me."

You freeze.

"DogDay..."

She stops, turns to you and looks directly at you. Her hand is still in yours, her warmth envelops you like a second skin.

"I'm serious," she says. "If we can find a way to get back to my world - I don't want to go there without you. I can't."

Your breath catches.

You never thought about the possibility.

Playcare was everything you ever knew. The factory was your prison, your home, your world. And now there is someone standing in front of you, someone who looks at you as if you were not just a broken experiment, not just an empty shell, but a human being.

Someone who wants to take you with them.

"I..." You can't find the words.

DogDay leans forward a little so that her forehead lightly touches yours.

"Think about it," she whispers.

Her gaze is warm, full of patience, full of hope.

And for the first time in your life, you believe that maybe there is a place where you belong after all.

Not Playcare.

Not the laboratories.

Not as an experiment.

But simply with her.

Slowly, she pulls you with her again. Your hand remains firmly in hers as you approach the Hatch Room. But there is only one question in your mind now:

Can someone like me really belong anywhere?

The question burns in your head, echoing in every corner of your mind as you walk with DogDay through the metal corridors of the abandoned factory.

Her hand holds yours tightly, as if her grip could save you from the thoughts that are lodged in your head. Your walk back to the Hatch Room feels endless, any silence between you is louder than a thousand words, and yet DogDay says nothing more.

It gives you space to think. To breathe. To process.

But all this becomes meaningless when you enter the room.

It immediately feels... wrong.

The atmosphere is different. Colder. More tense.

The group is fully assembled - Bubba, Hoppy, Kickin, Bobby, Crafty, the two versions of CatNap, Picky - but now they are no longer alone.

Poppy stands with her arms crossed, her red curls slightly disheveled, her face tense. Sophie is leaning against the wall with a serious expression on her face, her eyes fixed on DogDay.

And then there's Kissy.

They all stand close together as if they were forming a front against you. An unmistakable distance separates them from you and DogDay, as if an invisible line had been drawn through the room, a boundary that you must not cross.

DogDay senses it immediately.

She notices it long before you do, long before your heartbeat speeds up, before your chest feels tighter, before your fingers start to tremble. Her shoulders tense, her ears twitch slightly.

"What's going on here?" she asks calmly, but her voice has a sharp undertone.

"Ya' Know what?" Kickin laughs mockingly, leaning relaxed against a crate and crossing his arms. "We were just talking about how you and your little shadow here seem to think you can just pretend nothing happened."

"Nothing happened?" DogDay's voice is even harsher now. Her tail twitches slightly, a clear warning. "What are you talking about?"

Hoppy snorts. "Oh, come on. Don't pretend you don't know. Look at him."

DogDay turns slightly towards you, as if looking for an answer, but you can't even raise your eyes.

Something inside you creeps up.

A feeling that you can't quite grasp, that tears you apart inside as your body switches to autopilot. Your gaze flickers across the room, past the critters, past Sophie, past Poppy, and then it lingers on her.

Kissy.

A stab in the stomach.

Your breath catches.

Your head goes blank, then loud again, a deafening roar in your ears as your pupils dilate.

Memories hit you with the force of a storm.

Kickin's blows. The pain. The blood. Your shivering body on the cold Playcare floor.

And then Kissy. Your hand that moves and reshapes itself.

Your gaze twitches to her stomach. Where you hit her. Where you left the wound. The wound you caused.

Suddenly you feel ill.

Your body contracts, your legs feel like they can barely hold you up, and everything inside you is screaming that you have to get out of here. That you have to run away. That you can't be here.

"What went wrong with you?"

Poppy's voice cuts through the air like a knife. She looks at you - angry, disappointed, maybe even disgusted.

You want to answer, you want to say that you don't know, that you can't explain it to yourself, that you're wondering what the hell is wrong with you - but the words get stuck in your throat.

You can't speak.

Your chest rises and falls far too quickly, your hands shake, and then you feel a movement next to you.

DogDay.

Her figure shifts slightly in front of you, not much, but enough to partially obscure you from the view of the others.

"What is this about?" Her voice is now icy cold, her eyes sharp as blades.

No one speaks right away until Bubba lets out a soft sigh. "DogDay, you know as well as we all do that Y/N hurt Kissy."

"Injured?" DogDay blinks, then her gaze wanders to Kissy. She pauses for a split second.

She sees the wound.

The dried blood around the bandage. The way Kissy holds her arms lightly wrapped around herself, as if protecting herself.

DogDay squints his eyes. "He would never have done that without a reason."

This brings movement into the group.

"Oh, of course not!" Kickin almost spits out the words, his eyes full of disgust. "I'm sure your little lab freak had a wonderful reason to rip someone's fucking guts out!"

DogDay takes a step forward, her tail flicks violently through the air, her muscles tense.

"Say that again, Kickin."

The air crackles with tension, but then Hoppy intervenes.

"Can't you see how much you've changed since we've been here?"

DogDay doesn't even flinch. "What do you mean?"

"This is no longer the DogDay we knew." Hoppy's voice is quieter now, more serious. "Before, you would have been the first to defend us. Now you only defend him."

"Maybe..." Bobby casts a quick glance back and forth between you before turning to DogDay. "Maybe it's just because you like him?"

Silence.

She said it.

Your body tenses, your head turns towards DogDay, but she doesn't react immediately.

If she had denied it in front of everyone, it would have been over. She would have defused the situation. She would have regained control.

But she says nothing.

And now everyone knows.

You can feel your body moving of its own accord, ducking slightly behind DogDay, hiding because you can't stand the stares.

"See?" Kickin laughs coldly. "So I was right when I beat him up that time."

And then Bubba explodes.

"STOP IT!"

His voice thunders through the room, silencing everyone for a moment.

Sophie steps forward, her arms crossed, her gaze hard. "Enough drama. If you want a solution, then let Y/N explain what happened. If you want to condemn him, at least give him a damn chance to defend himself."

Bubba nods. "I want to stand up for him - but I need to know the whole picture."

All eyes are on you. On your trembling hands. On your irregular breathing. On your face. You want to say something.

You want to say something.

But your body feels like it's going to collapse under the weight at any moment. Your heart is hammering against your chest, so loud that you think everyone in the room should be able to hear it. Your throat is dry, as if constricted, and when you open your mouth, no sound comes out.

DogDay's hand lies warmly on your back, stroking slowly up and down, soothing, grounding. But it's not enough. Not when you're being watched by all these eyes. Not when you know that they expect answers while you barely understand what to say yourself.

"I..." Your voice breaks immediately. A tremor runs through your body, your fingers clawing into the fabric of your own sleeves as if you could hold on to them. "I don't know..." You struggle for breath, blinking hard, trying to find the words that won't make you choke. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Silence.

It's not the kind of silence you're used to. Not the kind that consists of ignorance, not the kind that blanks you out as if you were nothing. It's the kind that waits. The kind that almost forces you to keep talking.

You inhale deeply and exhale slowly.

"The experiments..." you begin, your own voice sounding foreign to your ears. "You... you don't know what they did down there. You don't know what they did to us."

A tingling sensation runs over your skin, like hundreds of needles, while the memories push themselves into your head, inexorably, cruelly.

"They... they didn't just test us. They didn't just... examine us." Your fingers claw harder into the fabric of your clothes, your shoulders tighten. "They were... using us."

DogDay's hand presses a little harder against your back.

You are not alone.

You are no longer alone.

"Sometimes... sometimes it wasn't just that." Your breath catches, your throat constricts, and you force yourself to continue, even though your voice is now just a hoarse whisper. "Sometimes... they enjoyed it."

The words burn on your tongue.

Nobody says anything.

You hear Bubba slowly closing his notepad. You see Sophie biting her lip. How Poppy lowers her eyes. Bobby tugging restlessly at her fur with his fingers.

DogDay's hand stays on your back.

Warm.

There.

"I didn't know..." You swallow. "I didn't know what was right or wrong. They told me I was an angel, something special. But then when they looked at me... I didn't feel that way."

Hoppy's ears drop slightly. Kickin is silent, his gaze difficult to interpret.

Your voice trembles, but you keep talking.

"And when I freed you...I don't know why I did it. I just knew that I could. That maybe... it was the right thing to do."

"I'm not the only experiment that was there." It's the deep, mechanical voice of CatNap - the other CatNap. The one you freed from the old, god-worshipping shell.

The group flinches slightly as his voice echoes through the room.

"He was the favorite subject," he says simply.

A shiver runs down your spine.

"What?" Poppy looks at him with wide eyes.

CatNap - or what used to be CatNap - nods. "The most valuable project in the entire plant. I've seen it for myself."

"What... what exactly do you mean?" Bubba speaks carefully, his gaze wandering back and forth between the two of you.

"I mean he's been through more than any experiment down there." CatNap's gaze shifts directly to you, his new, feline eyes sparkling expressionlessly. "More than me. More than the others."

You close your eyes for a moment.

You don't want to hear someone put your past into words.

But it happens anyway.

"I saw how they cut him open, without anesthesia. I saw how they pushed him into cold water for hours to see if he would adjust his body. I saw how they made him doubt himself, broke him until he no longer knew what was real and what wasn't."

A gag reflex rises up inside you.

Images flicker through your head.

The laboratories. The cold metal. The hands on your skin. The voices that said the same thing over and over again.

"You are an angel. A gift. You are ours."

DogDay's hand slowly strokes your back.

Gentle.

You are here. Not there. Here.

Your breathing is irregular, your chest rises and falls too quickly, but you keep talking because you have to.

"I... I don't understand a lot of things." Your voice is brittle. "I don't know what's real and what's not. I don't know if this is all... a dream. Sometimes it feels like it is."

A tremor runs through your shoulders.

"And after what Kickin did... after what he said... I..."

Your gaze flickers briefly to Kickin, but you can't look at him for long.

"I wasn't... I wasn't in a good state."

Your gaze wanders to Kissy.

"I was scared."

She looks at you, her hands wrapped around her injured stomach.

"CatNap was gone. The only thing I had, the only person who was... with me, had simply disappeared. And then there was someone in the darkness. Someone... someone was moving towards me, and I thought it was that CatNap. Or worse."

A lump forms in your throat.

"I put up a fight."

You can't see what Kissy is thinking.

"It was a reflex." Your voice is barely audible. "I... I didn't know... I didn't mean to..."

A quiet trembling in your chest that you can't suppress.

"I'm sorry."

Silence again.

But this time it's different.

Bubba is the first to break it. "I believe you." His voice is calm, thoughtful. "You're not a monster. And I think we've all seen enough here to understand that."

Kissy just looks at you.

Sophie nods slowly. Poppy looks as if she wants to say something, but keeps her mouth shut.

Hoppy and Kickin say nothing.

DogDay draws you a little closer to herself.

And for the first time in a long time, you have the feeling that maybe you do belong somewhere.

It's not that everyone understands you immediately or that the looks from Kickin and Hoppy no longer sting, but there's something now that wasn't there before.

Acceptance.

A spark of understanding, however small it may be. The world around you feels a little less cold, and DogDay's hand on your back stays there as if it were a barrier between you and everything else.

But the calm doesn't last long.

"So, what do we do now?" Bubba breaks the silence with his calm but firm voice. He leans against one of the metal walls of the Hatch Room, his notepad open on his lap. The question hovers in the air for a moment before Poppy raises her eyes.

"We're going deeper," she finally says, her gaze serious. "To the Safe Haven."

A slight feeling of unease spreads through the group. Safe Haven - the deepest part of the factory. A place where no one knew what exactly was lurking there. A place where perhaps the last hope or the final downfall awaited them.

"And what exactly awaits us down there?" Sophie crosses her arms, her gaze remains fixed on Poppy.

"I have someone there," says Poppy. "Another experiment. Doey. He knows the prototype better than anyone. He can help us finish it once and for all."

"Doey?" Bubba writes the name down. "Never heard it before."

"I'm not surprised." Poppy shakes her head. "Your world was all rainbows and sugarcoats too. Doey the Doughman is an experiment that can help us, that's all that matters."

The words hang heavy in the air. It's not just the thought of the prototype that makes each and every one of them uneasy - it's the fact that they have to go further and further down. Deeper into the heart of this cursed factory, deeper into the darkness from which no one knew if there was a way back.

As you stand, still half hidden behind DogDay, you notice Sophie glance quickly in your direction. She seems to think for a moment before quietly addressing DogDay.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

DogDay looks at you, hesitates, then nods and takes a step to the side.

It feels strange to stand there without her close by, but you don't say anything.

Sophie keeps her voice muffled, but you are too far away to hear the words clearly. But DogDay's expression slowly changes. Her gaze becomes more serious, her ears slightly tilted back as Sophie speaks.

"The Hour of Joy."

The words make DogDay freeze slightly.

"You know about this, don't you?" Sophie looks at her insistently.

DogDay nods slowly. Of course she did. Back then, in their world, when they had watched that tape and then ended up locked in this world. She can remember the screams of the others when the tape was playing.

"I know it's a lot to ask," Sophie pauses for a moment before looking at DogDay more firmly, "but I need to know what he did back then."

DogDay's eyes narrow slightly.

"You want me to ask him."

Sophie nods. "Not right now. At some point. Immediately. Obviously. I know he's suffered. I know he's not a monster. But the Hour of Joy was..." She pauses for a moment. "It was a massacre, DogDay. And we need to be sure we understand him."

DogDay is silent for a moment. Her gaze wanders to you again, like a silent scrutiny, as if she sees you with different eyes for a split second.

But then she narrows her eyes slightly.

"He's not dangerous," she says quietly but firmly.

"Then it shouldn't be a problem if you ask him at some point."

DogDay says nothing, but her tail flicks lightly through the air before Sophie slowly backs away.

Meanwhile, you feel another presence next to you, and as you look around, you notice Bubba looking at you with his usual calm expression.

"Everything all right?" he finally asks.

You wince slightly. "I-I... Yes."

He raises an eyebrow.

"You can tell me a lot, but I'm not buying it."

A faint smile flits across his face, but you can see that his curiosity is genuine.

"You know..." He closes his notepad with a light clack. "I like to observe people. Not the way CatNap does - but because I want to understand things. And you're..." He searches for the right words. "You're a riddle."

A riddle.

Once again you feel as if you are nothing more than an object, a study, a case that someone wants to take apart in order to understand it.

"I don't mean any offense," Bubba adds quickly when he sees the look on your face. "I mean... you have abilities that seem to have no limits. We saw what you did to CatNap. I wonder... Is there anything at all you can't do?"

You open your mouth, then close it again.

Because you don't know.

Every time you use your soul, every time you shape yourself, something about you changes. You could perhaps do anything. But at what cost?

Bubba watches you for a moment, then nods slowly.

"I thought so."

"What?"

"You are our strongest member." He says it so calmly, as if it were a simple fact. "Maybe even our only hope. Your ability is limitless, and I know you don't even realize it yourself."

Your body tenses up.

"But do you know what I really think?" Bubba looks at you with an expression that is difficult to interpret.

"You're the one who least believes he's still alive."

His words hit you deeper than you want to admit.

"I've seen the way you move. The way you look at us. The way you speak, if you speak at all." He leans forward slightly. "I don't think you're even sure if you're really experiencing this. Or if you're just... Waiting for it to end."

Something in your chest tightens.

He is right.

And you don't know what to say in response.

Bubba's words echo in your head, heavy as lead, as you search for something to say-but there is nothing. No simple "no", no naïve lie that could fool him. He has you figured out, the way he seems to analyze everything.

But he doesn't seem to judge you, just observe you, as if he were looking at you as a book that he reads slowly, page by page, without pressure, but with unstoppable curiosity.

Then he leans back a little, a slight, almost playful smile on his lips. "By the way, I haven't really introduced myself yet, have I?" He raises one hand slightly and points at himself with his thumb. "Bubba Bubbaphant. Probably the only one here who doesn't jump out at you or see you as a potential threat."

You blink, surprised at the sudden looseness in his voice. Your body still feels heavy, but you try to let go of some of the tension.

"Y-Y/N..." you mumble, as if you were introducing yourself for the first time.

"Yeah, I already know that." Bubba grins slightly and scrutinizes you again before his eyes wander briefly over your shoulders. "Oh, and by the way-your wings are gone."

Your eyes twitch open. "What?"

You slowly move your arms, then your shoulders, and for a moment your body is completely still. No more weight. No slight tugging at your back. You turn your head and see that Bubba is right-the wings that had grown from your own flesh earlier are gone, as if they had never been there.

He clicks his tongue, seemingly unimpressed. "Huh. I guess that was just a temporary transformation, too. Interesting." Then he leans back with his arms crossed.

"This will be an interesting collaboration."

As you slowly regain your composure, the conversation in the group turns to something completely different.

"I really can't wait to get back home." Kickin's voice breaks through the tension like a wave breaking over a still ocean too long. He grins and leans back on his own knees. "Chilling on the beach, surfing, maybe with an ice-cold smoothie in my hand."

"Smoothie?" Hoppy laughs briefly and playfully bumps his arm. "You're so boring. When I get back home, the first thing I want to do is run all over the Valley until I can't do it anymore!"

"Oh, that sounds great!" Picky claps her hands happily. "I want to get something really good to eat right away! Probably a huge stack of pancakes or-oh, or a whole cake just for me!"

"I just want to sleep." Crafty raises an eyebrow briefly and sighs. "My bed... my real bed."

"You really are all the same." Poppy joins in, her arms crossed loosely as she taps her foot lightly on the floor. Her eyes wander thoughtfully around the group while a strange smile plays around her lips. "You guys remind me of the Smiling Critters that used to be here."

The group pauses for a moment, the conversation dies down slightly.

"Wait a minute...?" Kickin looks at her sharply. "Are you telling us that our doppelgangers are just like us?"

"Were." Poppy quickly corrects him and shrugs her shoulders. "And that's all I'm going to say about that."

"Poppy!" Bobby immediately sulks and scoots a little closer to her on his knees. "Come on, you can't just throw us a lump like that and then-"

"No." Poppy shakes her head. "You don't want to know."

The silence that follows is almost frustrating. The group looks at each other, some looking as if they want to press Poppy further, but then she suddenly raises a hand slightly and looks ahead.

"Forget it for now. Take a look at this."

The group's eyes follow her gaze and linger on you and Bubba.

"There we have it," she murmurs, almost amused. "Our strongest weapon."

"Weapon?" DogDay raises an eyebrow slightly, but it's Hoppy who responds to Poppy first. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what I said." Poppy doesn't even look at them, her gaze stays on you. "If the prototype wants something, it's probably him."

"And why exactly?" Sophie steps closer to her.

Poppy takes a deep breath, as if she's struggling with whether she should really say that. Then she slowly raises a hand and points vaguely in your direction.

"Because he doesn't just have the most important ability." Her voice is quiet, almost resigned. "But also the simplest will to break."

The words hit her like a cold punch in the stomach.

"That's-" DogDay opens her mouth, but Poppy quickly raises her hand.

"Don't say anything now." She looks at her, more serious than before. "You know I'm right."

DogDay presses her lips together, her tail beats lightly against the ground.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kickin crosses his arms. "He doesn't exactly look like he'd be easy to break. He's fought his way through so far."

Poppy shrugs her shoulders. "This is something else. The prototype isn't interested in ordinary people. He's interested in control."

The group falls silent as a darker mood spreads through the room.

"And what if we don't let him have it?" Bobby breaks the silence. "What if we all just stay together, protect him?"

Poppy hesitates. Then she says something that sends a chill down everyone's spine.

"It's not that easy." She looks directly at you. "The experiments down here... they're not just monsters. They're more than that. Their hunger... is not like ours."

A slight feeling of unease spreads.

"They eat human flesh to satisfy their hunger."

Silence.

The words slowly seep into the heads of everyone present.

"What?!" Kickin's eyes widen, his entire demeanor changing. He doesn't seem to have understood before. "Say that again?!"

"You heard right." Poppy sighs and looks to you again. "And if the prototype wants to take someone... he'd take him."

"Why him?!" Hoppy shakes her head as if she doesn't even want to accept the possibility.

Poppy looks directly at you, even though you're too engrossed in the conversation with Bubba.

"Because his body is regenerating."

The thought slowly seeps into the group, heavy, frightening.

Poppy takes a deep breath, her eyes full of shadows.

"He would be the perfect catch."

Silence, again.

No one says anything, no one dares to move. Poppy's words hang heavy in the room, like a gaping wound that none of them ever wanted to see. Your stomach tightens, your head feels heavy.

You knew you were a target long ago, but hearing it out loud - so directly, so definitively - plunges you into a cold reality from which there is no awakening.

But then Bubba interrupts the silence by being the first to get moving.

"Then let's make sure we don't make this catch so easy for him." His voice is calm, analytical, but you recognize the underlying seriousness in it.

Slowly, the others follow his example. A few deep breaths, a few nervous glances, then everyone moves towards the Hatch - the last way out into deeper, even more unknown areas of the factory. You can feel the metal beneath your steps, cold and inert. It feels like a path of no return.

Poppy stays at the side, watching as everyone sorts themselves out. "It's getting more serious now. Worse than anything we've seen so far." Her words are not loud, but their gravity is unmistakable. Her gaze shifts to CatNap - the reshaped, almost humanoid. He avoids looking at her.

DogDay pulls you a little closer to him as the group gathers. "No matter what happens, we'll stay together. We have a good team now - we have you." She looks at you briefly, and you can't tell if those words reassure you or put you under even more pressure.

Sophie nods in agreement and crosses her arms. "We don't just have one advantage, we have several. Bubba can analyze, Poppy knows most of the traps, and CatNap..." She pauses briefly and looks at the remodeled experiment. "Well... he knows the factory in a way we don't. Either way, we have people here who know what we're getting into."

The conversation continues, a kind of uneasy talk designed to mask the anxiety. Bobby throws in a few casual remarks, Picky mechanically chews on something, and even Kickin acts a little more relaxed - until he looks at you and his face hardens. But before any further conflict can arise, everything is interrupted by a single noise.

A scream.

From above.

Kissy.

Your body freezes. It's a sharp, desperate scream, one that goes through your very bones. Everyone turns reflexively, their eyes fixed on the Hatch above them.

Poppy jerks her head up as if someone has just plunged a knife into her back. "What's she doing?"

Kissy should stop at the lever - she should let you down. But then you hear it. Something else. A second sound, not a scream, but... a noise. A deep, rasping growl, an echo from the darkness.

Not them.

Something else is up there.

Poppy starts to run. "No, no, no, NO!"

But then the Hatch begins to close over you.

"KISSY!" Poppy bangs her fists against the metal walls, pressing all sorts of buttons on the panel next to her. "We're coming! HALT THROUGH! Come on, come on, go faster!"

The platform begins to sink, but far too slowly. Much. Too. Slowly.

The screams do not stop.

And then - suddenly - a final sound, a mixture of a stifled gasp and a sickening, brutal crack.

The Hatch closes completely.

Black.

Everything is quiet.

No one says anything for a few seconds. It's as if time itself has stopped. Only the quiet, monotonous hum of the elevator can still be heard as you sink deeper into the factory.

Poppy stands there, her hands still on the buttons, her fingers trembling slightly. No one speaks. No one even dares to breathe. The air has suddenly become thicker, heavier.

And then it comes to you.

This feeling.

This inescapable, cold reality that cuts deep into your flesh.

He was up there.

The prototype.

He got her.

DogDay's grip on your hand gets stronger.

Hoppy shakes her head slowly, her ears twitching slightly as if she refuses to believe it.

Kickin stares at the floor.

Bobby puts a hand over her mouth as if to hold back the vomit.

Nobody says it out loud, but everyone knows it.

She's gone.

Poppy closes her eyes slowly, takes a deep breath - a single, long breath. Then she turns around, her hands clenched into fists.

Sophie is the first to speak. Her voice is flat, emotionless, a dull echo of the situation.

"We have to keep going."

It is clear at this moment:

This is the beginning of the end.

---

I don’t have much to say, except that things are about to get really bad from here on out.

(Spoiler alert!) The Prototype will definitely make an appearance in the next two chapters, and let’s just say the reader is in for some serious pain.

But there’s a twist—a previously minor character will step in to help. Let’s just hope the damage is only physical… (Spoiler: It’s not. Sorry, but I have to keep making the reader suffer.)

[sevikas-biceps]

Just to add on to this. Someone might've mentioned it in the tags, but I wanted to put my take on this thought.

[TLDR: me agreeing with OP and then explaining something vaguely Marxist lmao]

Do note that the power imbalance is also there. Yes, the two of them have their own views regarding the situation [Vi being accustomed to the reality of things, Caitlyn having to be shocked into experiencing it firsthand (and even then not the whole scope of this systemic issue)]—but their subjective experiences don't change the fact that, from a complete bird's eye view, the conflict of power exists.

We see this multiple times in the show. We see this already laid out for us, in several instances, in Season 1.

In what mad world will I trust someone like you? // Someone like me? You enforcers are all the same: just asshole criminals in fancy uniforms. We're here because I'm hungry. Do you know what prison food is like? No. Of course, you don't. Well, that place does look like it has bodies buried in the basement. // You don't know anything. You know what your problem is? // Please, tell me. // You expect everyone to give you what you want. What is this place? // It's where the kind of people you Topsiders don't wanna think about wind up. I know you have your reservations about me. This only works if we can learn to trust each other. // It doesn't work. It never has. You Topsiders always find a way to screw us. // I suppose Topside is to blame for all your misfortunes. // ...not all of them. // We aren't monsters, you know. We're people. Just like you. // You don't know anything about me. She makes...potions. Helps people here with...with...this. // ...shimmer. Why would you take something that does that to you? // I just...wanted to feel what it was like...to be somebody. To make other people afraid. Let's go. I think Vi would be happy to see a friendly face. // No! You...you go on ahead. She...she knew me when I was still...anyway, I don't want her to see me like this. Just tell her I'm sorry...about everything, okay? You used to live here...who's Powder? // My sister. I thought she died, but, now...I have to try and find her. // How do you know if your sister is alive or dead? // It's hard to check up on people from inside a concrete cell. // What, you don't have parents? // No! They were killed by enforcers. I knew it was a mistake trusting you! // You've been a real picnic yourself. Vi tells me I can trust you. You get a pass back Topside—that's it. ...it's beautiful. // If your people had your way, it'd be rubble and ash. // It's a misunderstanding. They think you work for Silco. // Your people hunt us! Like animals! Silco pays them to do it! // That's not possible. You're wrong. // Say that one more time. Ekko! She believes what she's saying, okay? We could beat Silco with this. // That won't solve things. // Easy for you to say! Your people aren't dying all around you! // Ekko...it's wrong what's been done to you. You'd be well within your rights to keep it. I couldn't blame you. But, if you do, the cycle of violence will never stop. This is our best shot at setting the record straight. This city needs healing—more than I ever realised.

[Whew. I actually had to rewatch several episodes just to get the dialogue IFBJKFBF]

Now, back to the topic at hand.

Let's start with the obvious. Whether explicit or implicit, all of these lines trace back to the systemic oppression being done by Piltover against the Undercity.

Vi was wary of Caitlyn in the beginning because she's an enforcer, and enforcers were the people who'd killed her parents. And it's not just that, either. Vi knew about Grayson and Vander's deal. She has witnessed both Piltie and Trencher working together to keep peace between the two cities. Yes, she'd been angry about it (reasonably so), but even then, she realised why such a thing needed to be done. She was even ready to sacrifice herself just to spare her siblings the inevitability of being the scapegoat. This implies that Vi knew there was at least a good soul out there, a sympathiser—who might yet grant her some kindness on the upside.

But then that sympathy got that very same person killed. And here, we finally know for true that good people don't survive the games of life. You don't get as far as you do in your existence without committing violence. The same also holds true for Vander: her father, who'd shifted his morals and priorities to protect his children; her father, who'd also sacrificed himself in the name of their family.

What does that show her? Being good gets you killed. Being good isn't enough.

Huck demonstrates this incredibly well. I just wanted to feel what it was like to be somebody. To make other people afraid. Prior to his reappearance in Ep6, we don't know anything about him save for the fact that he'd made deals of his own in the Undercity—but this is enough to tell us that he, like almost everyone else, is involved in some kind of illegal business. What does that say? Being good doesn't support your life. You have to tamp down the purest parts of you to be able to survive and thrive. If you're not somebody, if you're nobody, then you're worthless. You die. You're nothing. And everything you do is forgotten.

Even those in Piltover knew this. Caitlyn is a glaring example, what with the drastic shift in morals in Season 2; Cassandra is another good model (see this post of mine); Jayce had to adapt to the demands of high society, seeing and acknowledging the points made in Mel's little lessons on politics; Viktor once had to lie low in the Academy, and use subterfuge to achieve even just a fraction of his own potentials and ambitions; the list goes on.

Being good just doesn't cut it. Ekko implies this best: Vi tells me I can trust you. He's mistrustful of Caitlyn not just because she's a Topsider, not just because she's (still and admittedly) largely ignorant of the harsher realities of their cities—but because she'd've been raised on the very same ideals others she knew have also exhibited. What else does Caitlyn know but the life she lived in Piltover? What she knows as 'right' or 'wrong' is vastly different from what someone like an Undercity child would perceive as 'right' or 'wrong'—and being 'good' isn't enough, because the scales of measuring such a thing were already horridly skewed to start.

So, how does this support the idea that there's a pattern of abuse in Vi and Caitlyn's relationship?

The abuse itself starts on the political level. And this is so, because this was the basis of their relationship in the beginning. No strings attached. Get me out of this cell, and I'll give you the clues to your investigation. Lead me to this criminal, and I'll help you find your sister. I'll forget you're an enforcer for a while. I'll pretend you're not a convict yourself. We can work together. Somehow. The nature of their births had already dictated how they were to behold one another in this relationship. It will always hold a shadow over their heads. Even with the deterrent of romance mixed in, this dichotomy will persist.

OP mentions this:

Cait is Vi's only access to safety and food, she's isolated, she has to constantly prove her loyalty to Cait and renounce any ounce of lingering feelings she has towards the only family she has left, she's left in constant state of anxiety because of it.

There will always be a side to Caitlyn that would never understand how life was like for Vi, or for Ekko, or for Huck, or for Jinx, or for everyone else in the Undercity. That's not an accusation. It's just a statement of truth. Even despite the fact that Caitlyn had tried to set things right (evidenced by her efforts to convince Ekko to return the hexcrystal, and later on her talk with Cassandra to speak in favour of their case at the Council meeting), none of that matters because she herself undoes all that she worked for. All that Vi had tried making her see was for nothing.

That's where it becomes abusive. That's where their relationship, past the political layer, gets cruel on a personal level. Caitlyn, even if she didn't mean to do so and even if she doesn't realise it, had taken advantage of Vi.

You Topsiders always find a way to screw us.

Many others have said this in recent posts: it's Us versus Them.

Over the course of the first act of Season 2, we constantly see Vi in Piltover or surrounded by Piltovan individuals; which makes sense narrative-wise, but on a symbolic level also represents her isolation from all that she knew and had been built by (as a person) in her past. There's also an element of grooming present—in the same way Silco had groomed Powder into becoming Jinx. Caitlyn had slowly worn away at Vi (you can argue this as their relationship being developed, but still) and, for better or for worse (worse), trapped her into a situation where her choices leaned only in one direction and one direction only (Piltover or Zaun?).

Caitlyn abuses her power in this relationship. Whether Caitlyn herself realises this or not, whether Vi realises this or not, is irrelevant—what matters is that such a thing had happened at all. Being good fails. You can't have your cake and eat it. Caitlyn has to make the choice: her mother (Piltover), or her lover (Zaun)? Similarly, Vi does the same: her people (Zaun), or her lover (Piltover)?

You can't be good, one way or the other. It's just not enough, anymore. You have to breach something here, you have to commit an evil somewhere there—because being good gets you nowhere. Not when you're at this point of your life. Being good won't help you catch Jinx, being good won't stop the terrorist attacks from happening, being good won't bring your mother back. But being good would just make your people hate you, being good would make you a conspirator to the crimes against them, being good wouldn't sate your lover's need for vengeance.

That's where Vi and Caitlyn's relationship becomes toxic.

That's where the abuse sets in.

not to be the friend who's too woke but I genuinely feel that the only reason the fandom has such a visceral reaction to people calling Vi and Cait's situation domestic violence is because Vi is butch. yes, DV is more than just physical harm, it involves repeating patterns of abuse, all of which can be found in their relationship. Cait is Vi's only access to safety and food, she's isolated, she has to constantly prove her loyalty to Cait and renounce any ounce of lingering feelings she has towards the only family she has left, she's left in constant state of anxiety because of it.

[literaturereviewhelp]

In his book Night, Elie Wiesel explores a variety of themes. One of them is the attempts of a person to reconcile one’s experiences with the belief in God. Eliezer, who is the main character of this work, is on the verge of losing his faith in God as a benevolent being. Yet, he manages to retain this faith, even though it was significantly transformed. This essay will focus on Eliezer’s experiences and the changes in his worldview. At the beginning, Eliezer can be viewed as a very religious person. He studies Talmud and Kabbala, even though his father does not approve of this religiosity. When he is asked why he prays, he cannot fully understand this question, because in his view, God permeates every aspect of human life. This is how he responded to this question, “Why did I pray? A strange question. Why did I live? Why did I breathe?” (Wiesel, 2). For him, the belief in God is an inherent characteristic of a human being. Yet, the worldview is begins to change. The incarceration of Jews into ghettos and subsequent slaughter are not compatible with his faith in benevolent God. When Eliezer recalls his days in the ghetto, and later at Auschwitz, he says “Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul” (Wiesel, 1). This sentence suggests that Holocaust experiences turned him into a materialist who denies the existence of God and soul. In this regard, one can certainly mention a moment when a child was hung. For Eliezer and other prisoners, the death of his boy symbolized the death of God. It should be noted that Elie Wiesel describes the experiences that were common among many people. The crisis of faith was very widespread among people who survived ghettos and concentration camps (Garbarini, 178). However, Eliezer manages to preserve his belief in some way. First of all, he recollects the story of Job whose faith was tested though suffering and hardships. He even associated himself with this character. In particular, he says, “How I sympathized with Job! I did not deny God’s existence, but I doubted His absolute justice” (Wiesel, 42). Nevertheless, the reference to Job is also important because his story means that true religious faith must not be ruined by any external circumstances (Alford, 10). Moreover, Eliezer views religion as a way of preserving one’s human nature. For example, he believes that people “should show God that even here, in the enclosed hell they were capable of singing his praises” (Wiesel, 42). Moreover, he regrets that his father did not have a burial according to the traditions of Judaism. Thus, one can say that Eliezer adhered to his religious practices. Overall, the internal struggle of Eliezer shows that the religious faith of an individual can be shaken, if it is very firm. The main character tries to reconcile the idea of injustice and cruelty with religious faith. At the beginning he views God as an omnipotent and benevolent being. Later, he comes very close to the complete rejection of faith. However, he thinks that faith must not be shattered by hardships and injustice. Nevertheless, his firm conviction God’s justice was shaken and he probably never regained it. This is how Holocaust affected him. Works Cited Alford, Fred. After the Holocaust: The Book of Job, Primo Levi, and the Path to Affliction. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009. Print. Garbarini, Alexandra. Numbered Days: Diaries and the Holocaust. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2006. Print. Wiesel, Elie. Night. Trans. Stella Rodway. New York: Bantam Books, 1982. Print. Read the full article

[unpopularly-opinionated]

Okay so over the past two days I've rewatched/watched Alien 1-4 and boy was it ever a decline. For context, I've only seen Alien and Aliens prior to this, as well as one of the prequels, though I can't recall which one, but I'm not including those because I haven't watched/rewatched them yet.

Spoilers below for Alien 3 and Alien Resurrection, in case you haven't seen them, because I have thoughts.

Alien is perfect, of course. It still holds up really well and I'm still beyond happy that I was able to watch it in theaters many years ago as opposed to just on TV. It's definitely worth seeing in a theater IMO.

Aliens I've always had bad memories of, and while I was certainly reminded of why, it actually wasn't nearly as bad as I remembered it being. I think the character's name is "Hudson", or the guy who famously says "Game over, man! It's game over!" Anyways, he's why I had such bad memories of this movie. I find him incredibly annoying BUT the last time I saw this movie was probably a decade ago so while I still find it annoying, I'm able to look past it and overall find the rest of the movie enjoyable.

Alien 3 was uh... well let me just say that my initial reaction was WTF because of the "choice" they made at the beginning of the film to axe every character who survived from Aliens, aside from Ripley, and including Newt who was like so pivotal to the previous movie. I was so baffled this I had to google it and I see that it primarily wasn't their fault that they had to make this choice because I guess the actress who played Newt didn't actually want to be an actress, but I don't know, I think they could've managed to handle it a bit better than they did. It was just insanely jarring to go straight from saving her in Aliens to "btw she died off-screen between movies". This colored my opinion of the movie at first, but ultimately this movie wasn't so bad all things considered. The next movie definitely makes this one seem near-perfect by comparison.

Alien Resurrection is just bad. It's just so so bad. If I hadn't caught a glimpse of Joss Whedon's name in the credits at the beginning, I could've still guessed it a mile off. Ironically, even though Alien 3 actually had Ripley fuck a dude, this movie was way more unnecessarily sexualised than that one. Not to mention the fact that they went with the whole angle that the aliens are now Clone Ripley's children which makes sexualising the two infinitely worse.

There's also the fact that this movie just flat out does not make sense and is contrived as hell. They barely attempt to explain how Ripley is even in this movie to begin with after she died in Alien 3, giving us a one-off line about how they "scraped blood samples" that they found in the prison and used that to clone her, utilizing Alien DNA, which is how they wound up with 7 other failed attempts that all looked semi-Alien-like whereas our Ripley is #8 and looks normal.

Except this I could buy into. Is it contrived? Absolutely. But whatever, this world has synthetic androids and pseudo-supercomputers so whatever, I can buy that they have cloning too. But what I couldn't buy was that somehow by cloning her they also managed to clone the Queen alien that was lying dormant in Ripley's body back in Alien 3? I'm sorry, what? If you can do that why do you even need Ripley, an active threat to your plans?

There's also the plot contrivance of why they didn't immediately kill her off once she'd served her purpose. They had the Queen at that point, and the subject of terminating her comes up twice but we never actually get given an answer as to why they keep her alive. They even go as far as to call out the fact that she's an active danger to their project. Given that Joss Whedon was writing this, I'd have at least expected some kind of creepy doctor who wanted to fuck his Riply science experiment or something. Anything to even attempt to justify her continued existence.

Also I'm sorry these fuckers have been researching, reproducing and raising these aliens and not one of them thought that maybe they should make their cages acid proof?

Overall, just a terrible movie. Sucks too because I guess it leads nowhere? You're telling me they ran out of the tried-and-true method of "somehow the Aliens have returned" when the ship full of them crashed on Earth? Nah. Also I LOL'd at the ending because I'm sorry, is Earth uninhabited? I don't think so. But there they went crashing a fucking massive spaceship into it with no concerns and we just roll credits.

Anyways, guess I'll start Prometheus and Covenant tomorrow.

[maxwell-grant]

PET THEORY: While others cannot see a vampire's reflection, when a vampire looks into a reflective surface they behold all their sins reflected back at them in a visibly twisted version of their own person (Very few of them enjoy the experience, since they prefer to regard themselves as something other than walking corpses rotten with stolen blood and their own Evil).

I like this one. I like ideas that go out of their way to make vampires weirder and less natural than they already are, especially when they are built around contrasting or defying the usual expectations about vampires. It's something I'm VERY much looking forward to in the next season of What We Do In The Shadows, considering the state they've left Colin Robinson in and how they've been playing up the weirdness of energy vampires by contrast with regular vampires.

Actually, what this reminds me of is something I picked up more recently in a recent rewatch of one of my top 3 favorite films, Phantom of the Paradise, a film that has no literal vampires, but pulls a lot of influences from supernatural horror fiction and, really it's the kind of film where vampires existing wouldn't even be one of the weirdest things about this world.

To give a brief overview in case you don't know about it and only recognize it through the works that referenced it which you have DEFINITELY seen even if you don’t think you have, the story of POTP is about a disgraced composer named Winslow Leach who hands over his cantata about Faust to be produced by the all-powerful mogul Swan, who ends up stealing it and having Winslow beaten and framed and sent to prison (where his teeth are all pulled out). He ends up escaping and being heavily disfigured by a record press of his own stolen music, and after he reemerges as a costumed Phantom attacking Swan's production, Swan ends up conning him into a Faustian deal where he'll give him a new voice and have his music performed the way he wants it to, by the woman he loves (Phoenix, played by Jessica Harper in her first role), as long as Winslow accepts working for him.

I should probably mention also that Winslow was extremely obsessive over his music even before he became the Phantom, which is why he agrees to work for Swan. He is okay with working for the man that destroyed him as long as his music gets performed, because from beginning to end, Phantom of the Paradise is a painstakingly clear and brutal criticism of the music industry and that informs every single aspect of the movie, even down to miniscule details like Swan employing bikers as henchmen (referencing the infamous Altamont Free Concert where the Rolling Stones employed Hell's Angels) or a gag where Swan serves "Breakfest!" to Winslow while opening a briefcase full of drugs.

This is a very brief overview and doesn't begin to convey the experience of watching this movie, but I have to get it out of the way first to talk about Swan and why it relates to this ask. This is Swan, played by Paul Williams.

The quickest way to describe Swan is that he's Dorian Gray meets Phil Spector (he’s been called a “dark parody” of Spector, but he’s not really a parody, if anything he’s nowhere near the ghoul that the real Spector was known to be even at the time). He's the film's villain and an all-powerful producer and living legend of entertainment, whose goal throughout the film is to complete construction of "The Paradise" opera house, described as "his Xanadu", in one of the film's many allusions to Orson Welles. Swan's always even-tempered and manipulative and extremely charming and persuasive, to the characters as well as the audience (I cannot overstate how great Paul Williams is and what a goddamn crime it is that he's never been asked to voice or play The Penguin outside of TAS), even when we know from his first scene that he's rotten.

Said scene is a parody of The Godfather's opening scene, where Swan's hidden off camera except for his white gloves and his main assistant Philbin's begging him to solve his problems with a rebellious star named Annette (whose only crimes, according to Philbin, are breaking contract, suing them for taking advantage of her and "giving free concerts to starving gook orphans"). When Philbin asks Swan to break her, Swan merely asks "Is that all?", to which Philbin replies "Isn't that enough?", and Swan replies that Annette, who's at the top of the charts, is "yesterday's news" for what he's looking for in his next venture, which turns out to be Winslow. A poor shmuck who just so happens to produce music that greatly appeals to Swan, so he takes the music and destroys the man, and when the man transforms into something too angry and strange to die, Swan finds a way to bleed him dry as much as he can before he comes up with a new way to put him away for good when he’s no longer got anything left to give.

(Fanart by Spoonfayse)

I bring this up to show how effectively the film establishes Swan early on as this supernaturally powerful force of evil, in that the very concept of "breaking" a person, something the brutish thug Philbin considers a great deal, is passe and unremarkable to Swan, something he does daily for breakfest and with zero investment, because all he cares about is the pursuit of his own desires. He is so powerful and uncaring, he even purposefully kneecaps his own stars for being too perfect, because he says "You know how I abhor perfection in anyone other than myself". And yeah, I know I'm quoting the movie a lot, it's fucking amazing and I want to shout it from the rooftops how much I love it, but I need to get across what kind of character he is to get to the next bit.

One detail of Swan throughout the film is that he never allows himself to be photographed or taped, he's seen mainly through mirrors or logos or audio before he actually shows up on screen, and the film consistently plays up Swan's manipulation of media, how he’s got cameras all over the place watching everything and how he’s constantly surrounded by mirrors and smokescreens. We later find out that Swan is immortal, after his attempted suicide resulted in him making a deal with the devil for eternal youth, and he's gotten both Winslow and Phoenix to sign the same contract binding all their souls together, and that in order to uphold this immortality, Swan has to watch every day the tape he made of his attempted suicide/contract so that, much like Dorian Gray, the version of himself on the tape ages and decays instead of him. Later, when Winslow breaks into Swan's viewing room, he sees that the tape of Swan's deal also includes a tape recording of his own deal with Swan, as well as Phoenix's.

Early on in the movie, before the true nature of Swan's deals are revealed, we get to see one of the very few times Swan displays weakness, which is also the only scene in the movie where we get to see Swan entirely on his own without anyone around him. It's a scene where he's watching a taped recording of his deal with Winslow, but with his voice altered, sounding both older and as well as far raspier and crueler, the same voice that Winslow's going to hear later when he watches the same recordings.

This is the one time in the movie where Swan seems to not be in control of the situation, the other being the finale, where his show is ruined, the Paradise's in chaos, his face is rotting, and he's trying to strangle Phoenix while screaming "YOUR VOICE, REMEMBER! YOU PROMISED ME YOUR VOICE!" in the same voice Paul Williams used for these recordings, and it pairs up with the scene where we get to see Swan's own initial deal: He was afraid of his looks being ruined by age, so he decided to kill himself young rather than fade away. He became immortal to try and defeat the inevitable decay brought by time, and ended up decaying anyway and bringing others down with him.

This is a strangely, uniquely sympathetic moment for a character who's otherwise completely irredeemable, and it opens up the question of whether his anguish in the scene comes from merely disgust over the sight of what he ultimately is and looks like, over seeing that which he tries to pretend isn't him, or whether it's a form of regret over what he's putting Winslow through and seeing that he too isn't as different from Winslow as he'd like to be, as later when Winslow tries to stab himself to death and fails, and then tries to stab Swan, Swan plucks the knife and grimly remarks "I'm under contract too.*

It creates a correlation between Swan and Winslow as two shmucks with great talent but little wisdom, who signed deals with forces beyond their understanding and became masked monsters as a result. Swan, for all his power and mystique and cruelty, is himself a victim of the entertainment industry he rules over, even before his demise where he is killed not just by the Phantom, but by his own audience perpetuating the violence Swan’s been selling to them since the beginning of the film, dancing over both of their corpses, still hungry for more. 

To bring this back to the original point a little, Phantom of the Paradise includes a lot of references to horror fiction, not just in it’s elements taken from Phantom of the Opera and Faust and Dorian Grey but also smaller references here and there to works like Nosferatu. There’s arguments to be made that both of the titular characters of POTP could be vampires, Winslow in his monstrous persona, superhuman efforts, brutal murders after he becomes The Phantom, and his continued existence fueled by love and hatred at equal measure, and Swan, in his deceptful and predatory demeanor, his vast ability to manipulate and command even in a hypnotic fashion, and his unending consumption of all the corpses he’s built an empire on. That both of their attempts to attain immortality backfire on the two of them is certainly consistent with the prevailing idea in vampire fiction, that being a vampire is ultimately a terrible deal for all parties involved. 

But I think there’s an argument to be made that, if anything in Phantom of the Paradise constitutes a vampire in it’s most dangerous, primal form, it’s not any of it’s main characters. It’s the audience. The audience that they chase and attain and find themselves unable to live without. The audience that Swan commands and corrupts as easily as he does everything else, the audience that abandons Winslow and makes a party of his misery, the audience that Phoenix sells her soul to Swan for the minute she realizes she cannot live without, the audience that cheers the hardest for Beef when he’s a charred corpse carried away in a stretcher. The audience that consumes and spits out all of them and trods on, hungry for more, hungry for everything and without end, because it’s all just part of the show, it’s all entertainment, it’s all another way to keep us, those in the audience seats, sated.

We watch vampire stories for the same reason we watch stories period: because there’s an 3-pound electric flesh sponge burrowed in your head that’s piloting your every motion and thought and, to keep running, demands to be fed stimulation and nourishment at every turn, and if you don’t feed it, it starts to eat you instead. It feeds to live and it lives to feed and it’s hunger only grows, and there’s nothing you can do about it but try and find ways to make peace with it, and try to survive the whims of others who have not, before it’s too late. The person dies, but the hunger remains, consuming even those that try to weaponize it or enjoy it. The hunger of showbiz is what all comes down to.

"And though your music lingers on

"All of us are glad you're gone"

"If I could live my life half as worthlessly as you"

"I'm convinced I'd wind up burning too"

The major themes of the piece are set out in the first song, "Goodbye Eddie," about a singer who commits suicide in hopes of making his debut album a posthumous hit. As the song reaches its end, Juicy Fruit Archie Hahn pantomimes Eddie's suicide, playfully pretending to slice his wrist open with his own microphone, and then writhing in pain on the floor as his bandmates seemingly obliviously continue to perform around him.

Encapsulated in this song and in Hahn's performance are the concepts that people will do anything, even killing themselves, in exchange for the chance for success; that the public eats this up, making Eddie's "memorial" album a hit; and that the Juicy Fruits' own audience is thrilled to see a simulated suicide -- even one performed for laughs -- onstage.

As the film progresses, the onstage carnage (and the audience's reactions to it) become more and more serious, mimicking (and anticipating) the real-world one-upsmanship of performers who commit ever more outrageous acts in an effort to outdo themselves and their competitors for the public's attention, with the ultimate attention-getter being complete self-destruction. 

We make our way from Hahn's innocent goofing with the knife/microphone to the simulated spearing of mannequin audience members, to Beef's impromptu electrocution, to a premeditated "assassination live on television coast to coast," as Swan has his henchman take aim at his bride during their televised wedding, and finally to Swan's and Winslow's onstage deaths, which the crowd assumes to be just part of the show. Ultimately, Swan, Phoenix, and the Phantom are all destroyed by their own ambition, as the audience at the Paradise takes it in with glee.

Phantom's melding of "the show" and "the real", perhaps inspired by Altamont and the resulting 1970 Gimme Shelter documentary, anticipated today's "reality" shows, the success of which proves that there's a hunger that mere "fictional" tragedy no longer satisfies. As De Palma predicted with Phantom, the culture demands entertainment that is more and more visceral, with the most desensitized among us insisting upon manipulated "reality" as entertainment, and snuff films the inevitable end result; people are willing to watch video of New York's twin towers tumble hundreds of times, and entire websites have been dedicated to photographs of unfortunates jumping out of the skyscrapers to escape the heat. 

Of course, in order for "death as entertainment" to flourish, there must be a culture that is sufficiently interested to watch it, while being sufficiently apathetic to do nothing about it; and Phantom is as much an observation of that culture as it is an indictment of the media machine that happily provides that culture with what it wants.

There's nothing new about a culture of "death as entertainment" of course; it's been around at least since the Romans came up with throwing Christians to the lions. But it's something we like to think we have risen above; 

Phantom reminds us that we haven't - “It’s More Than Just Songs”, by The Swan Archives

[imaginationmess]

TAKE MY HAND (ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE) [BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER]; TWO

Bakugou Katsuki X Reader

AGED UP AU!

Summary: When you take on the burden to keep the ones living safe, which causes you to become a traitor, but you had to pick a decision, and it cost their trust in you. You reverted to your old violent self. Months later, you find yourself face to face with your old friends. They want you to help them because they know you can handle yourself in this current state of the world. They are still ignorant of the state the world is. They have no idea how more dangerous it has become.

“We are still fucking fighting and won’t stop fighting. If you fucking give up, we lose!”

BEFORE READING! PLEASE READ DISCLAIMER!

Previously Chapter ONE; Masterlist

Chapter TWO

Word Count: 1,600+

Spoiler Alert for Anime watchers: There will be mention of Midoirya’s new quirks that haven’t been introduced in the anime.

Once the four of them have taken a shower and had time to discuss with each other weighing the pros and cons of trusting you. You did have a good record of keeping up with your promises before the incident where you betrayed all of their trust. It’s a tie between trusting you or not trusting you over a deal.

They are gonna reconsider the vote about it, later at night. They are all curious how you became a Mafia boss from just an original teenager who wanted to become a hero. To only become a cold killer and making a name for yourself years later.

They only have heard stories and rumors of the alias you go by.

Glitch.

A masked individual who is widely known for their cold,calculated mind and a heartless killer who didn’t care who gets caught in the crossfire. A leader who rapidly climbing up the ladder in the mafia world during the time of the apocalypse. A leader who became to hold more territory and killing off of other leaders to take their territory and expand their army.

A name alone made your enemies tremble in their boots.

They are hoping to get better judgment, seeing how things are run here.

The young boy that goes by the alias Speedy gave them a quick tour, but didn’t show the whole building due to being confidential from outsiders. He is just following orders. He was taking them to the cafeteria to grab something to eat to only notice where the children were eating all together were pointing at them. Most of them have eyes of admiration and pure awe looking at them.

“They are fans of you guys. They have seen the old video recording of previous sports festivals. We had to keep them somewhat entertained. Glitch got her hands on those old videos.” Speedy explains to continue to eat his soup.

The boys nod, understanding why the kids are so excited to see them in the flesh. It was weird, but somewhat comforting that the younger generation isn’t taught to hate heroes.

“I would keep those degrading comments of Miss Glitch to yourselves because the people who live here aren’t fans of heroes, much less of outsides. I heard you guys arguing earlier outside the room. You weren’t very quiet.” He looks at Bakugou in a way saying you are the loud one, before adding, “Everyone here would not agree on whatever image you decide to picture her.”

“Why wouldn’t they agree? Isn’t she a killer though?” Todoroki is just addressing the tension in the air. Midoriya and Kirishima choked on their food before coughing. They forgot Todoroki still struggles to read the social situations.

“Yes, she has killed many, but it is done to keep everyone safe. At the state of the world, it isn’t run by heroes who never got their hands dirty. It is run by killers because prison doesn’t exist. Who is gonna be the one to put those low lives underneath the ground? You guys never faced the true danger of the current state of the world. You are always protected just because you attend a prestigious school before the apocalypse hit.” Speedy spits out before taking a deep breath and just continues eating his food. His left hand was

“I apologized for his comment. We just have a history of them. It didn’t end on a good note. I know yo-.”

Speedy interrupts Midoriya by slams his spoon on the table before taking a deep breath to recollect himself.

“You don’t know any of our experiences. It was hell before Miss Glitch came to save us and took us in with no judgment. She taught us how to freaking survive by teaching us numerous tools such as self-defense and weapon handling. She never expected anything in return, unlike other mafia groups.”

The sound of a clap pauses the tension being created by five of them. The ex heroes in training look up to see meet the emotionless man covered with tattoos and scars. The same man who was within the room left to the minor from earlier. He placed a hand on top of Speedy head to ruffle his hair.

“Go ahead, eat with your sibling. Take a breather. I will take over making sure these little shits behave.” He removes his hand from his head before taking a seat beside the teenager.

“But-” Speedy was hesitant on leaving his position.

“It’s an order. Spend time with your sibling. Enjoy the night off.” The older man takes out a red apple from his pocket. Speedy stares at the four outside and gives a quick nod before taking his leave.

Bakugou Katsuki was staring at the man with suspicion as if he saw him before this mission. He wasn’t the only one who was thought so. Midoriya recalls those same tattoos, but it must have been a long time ago. He couldn’t easily recall. They were eating quietly until they finished.

“Let’s start ny introducing myself. I am Daichi. I am usually the one who runs this base when Miss Glitch isn’t present. It must have been your lucky day because you would have been tortured to death for trespassing.” The hairs behind their neck rise and getting goosebumps.

They sense malicious by the way he is sounding. Midoriya’s danger senses were activating and going crazy causing him to want to step away from him. It takes him back to when All For One and Stain’s presence.

Daichi’s yellow eyes stare at every one of them as he takes out a pocket knife directs it at Midoriya who was sitting in front of him. “The only reason you four are alive and even getting treated with special treatment is because of Miss Glitch. Step out of line, I wouldn’t hesitate to beat the shit of you wannabe heroes. That’s the only thing. I am allowed to do.” He swiftly put his pocket knife after cutting his apple into six pieces which fall on the napkin. He claps his hands together cutting through the tension for him to drop the act to replace it with a fake smile.

“Anyways comes to my question. What did you talk about with the young boy making them lose their composure?”

He was oblivious enjoying tormenting these wannabe heroes.

_______________________________________

Meanwhile, inside the hero’s refuge base where there is a tall metal barrier that runs underneath 20 feet underground.

There was a young man with black hair with his signature scarf, looking at a map looking where to travel to get more food and other resources. They are running out of places to investigate. The last 2 locations were a complete bust. It has been cleaned out completely. He is one of the leaders of the camp where they have stayed safe since the beginning of the apocalypse.

There was a knock on the wall, before someone coming in through the curtains. They pull a chair across from him, before taking a seat. They are twirling it around for them to rest their arms on the top of the chair.

“Aizawa, I can’t believe you took my suggestion seriously.” The young male with the purple bed hair as if he just rolled out of bed, comments. He has a small scar above his eyebrow. He has a few scars on his arms that have grown muscular.

“It was insane, but not outside of the possibilities.” Aizawa laid back in his chair and stares at his former student who is now somewhat a version copy of himself when it comes to fighting styles.

“Do you tell the trio? Whom they are gonna be meeting?” The purple-haired questions, not seeing they would be willing to see a former classmate that so-called became a traitor in their eyes.

“No. They wouldn’t be willing to do it despite us being a tight spot right now when it comes to resources.” Aizawa answers, before ruffling his hair and keeping his eyes closed. He is stressed out and not having a lot of options. They are running low on adults that were pro heroes. They have lost many throughout the apocalypse. Many of them abandon their original mission to save themselves.

The apocalypse revealed the true heroes who aren’t for the money. They are a good amount of pro heroes who got captured by mafia groups to have power. Some of them show over time randomly at their doorstep after being spared by the mask individual Glitch. That’s the only information they are allowed to share about their interaction with Glitch.

Aizawa and the other leaders of the camp believe the individual took them close enough for them to walk to their camp. Aizawa suspects it is one of his former students whom he didn’t have any contract  ever since the infamous incident. Majorly of his students calls them to be traitors.

“I still don’t get why we never told the truth about what actually happened that day.” The purple-haired male looks to the side to see Eri outside away from any harm playing with Kota.

“Hitoshi, It was a quick agreement exchange of keeping our mouths close and follow whatever story they want to make up. She swore to keep her word on securing your guys safe within her presence.” Aizawa applies pressure on his forehead to relieve the headache.

Aizawa remembering back to the U.A dorms where you are smiling and being a normal teenager. The image of that student whom he watched over for months became dark. She was no longer a child, but an emotionless shell of what she should be.

The lifeless eyes staring back at him, covered in bruises and blood that wasn’t her own. She was carrying unconscious Eri. You were bathed by your enemy’s blood. The remaining light of innocence in your eyes had vanished from existence. It only reveals just cold, calculated eyes that were staring at his soul.

“Aizawa.”

💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣

I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!

Any thoughts/Feelings/Predictions that you have while out reading this chapter.

I would love to hear them! <3

If you wish to be tagged, do comment down below.

[milgrammer]

[ENG] Molech Voice Drama

Es: [footsteps]

Shido: Hm?

Es: Sorry to have kept you waiting. [footsteps] Prisoner number 5, Shido. 

Shido: No need to. Thank you for all your hard work, Es.

Es: Now then, Shido. Let’s begin the interrogation.

Shido: Very well. Please go ahead.

Es: [hesitates] Ok. Let’s see... Milgram exists to reveal the sins of you, prisoners, and to hand down the appropriate judgement. So, for that reason, talk to me for a bit. 

Shido: Understood. Please take good care of me from now on.

Es: [pauses] Even if this is referred to as an interrogation, at this moment in time, I don’t plan on using violence. In addition to that, any falsehood or silence from you will be acknowledged.

Shido: I see. I might refrain from voicing anything I don’t want to say, but I have no intention of lying to you.

Es: Shido, how’s life in Milgram? Do you have any complaints about its environment? Or have any issues arisen from the other prisoners, etc?

Shido: No particular inadequacies really come to mind. And, my fellow prisoners haven't particularly caused any issues either. Es, I wonder if this is the fruit of all the governing you do? It’s remarkable.

Es: Not really. [hesitates] Hold on a second, Shido. 

Shido: Yes? What is it?

Es: This is… I know it’s me who’s getting things mixed up here, but…  In comparison to all the interrogations thus far, this one has been progressing far too smoothly; it feels somewhat unsettling. 

Shido: I’m not sure what to say to that... 

Es: Hm. [footsteps] Shido, do you seriously not have any reservations about Milgram? 

Shido: Well, let’s see. I mean, without a doubt, it’s clearly a strange place. Its architectural style and the written script it uses are things I’ve never seen before either. If you were to say I was having a dream or a vision, then that would make more sense to me. 

Es: Hm.

Shido: But, all things considered, I’m still very much conscious. My pulse rate is within its normal range. And, I can’t find any symptoms to suggest that I’m hallucinating either. So, I don't exactly find that idea to be very convincing.

Es: Oh?

Shido: Other than that... If this is the afterlife, then this place must be hell. But, if I set that idea aside, then… This is just real life. I, myself, am in normal condition; it’s where I am which is unusual. I may not know the reason behind this place or how it works, but even if I tried to escape from the reality of it, nothing would really change, right?

Es: You sure are composed, aren’t you? 

Shido: That’s just my personality. I just simply don’t think bad of it—this place, I mean. 

Es: You mean, Milgram?

Shido: Yeah, this place will put me to death. 

Es: What?

Shido: I might not get a golden opportunity like this again, so I’ll get straight to the point. Es… You decide how the prisoners will be dealt with, right? 

Es: Yeah. That’s right.

Shido: The death penalty is what I’m hoping for. Thank you in advance. 

Es: I won’t have that. The lot of you can’t decide what your own treatment will be. Only I as the prison guard have the authority to do so.

Shido: Exactly. You as the prison guard have the right to do such a thing, Es, so that’s why I’m asking you for this favour. 

Es: [scratches head, sighs] In regards to your sin, what I’ve gathered so far is that you both regret and have already reflected on your actions. On top of that, you’re also seeking to receive the maximum penalty we have to offer. So, let’s use that information. The idea that I’ll be taking your behaviour into consideration is nothing more than a mere presumption.

Shido: [hesitates]

Es: And, of course, I haven’t thrown away the possibility that you’re only doing this to get on my good side either.

Shido: Hm. I honestly have no idea what you and Milgram are setting out to achieve. You mentioned something about extracting songs and videos from our hearts, and then using them to judge our sins, didn’t you?

Es: Yeah. And, what of it?

Shido: There’s no need for you to go through such a cumbersome process. If you want to hand down the correct punishment for me, then all you have to do is put an end to my life and it'll be over in a blink of an eye.

Es: You’re being annoyingly persistent, Shido! Know your place here. 

Shido: Please listen to me, Es. I’ve killed people. Lots of them as well. It was for such a selfish reason too. I’m a fine specimen of what a genuine murderer ought to be. [footsteps] There’s no reason for you to forgive me. And, I don’t have the desire to be forgiven either.

Es: I really don’t...get you.

Shido: If you don’t put me to death, then neither the people I’ve killed nor their families will be at peace. Don’t you think so too?    

Es: As if that’s my business. I haven’t necessarily sided with your victims and I’m not a family member of theirs either.

Shido: [sighs]

Es: [sighs] Anyway, the only thing I’ll be deciding on is whether or not I forgive you. I don’t even know the details of what punishment will follow after that. 

Shido: Is that so? Es, I suppose you were left in the dark about many things as well just like the rest of us. 

Es: Knowing what happens to the lot of you afterwards might prevent me from making a straightforward decision about whether I should forgive you or not. So, it’s to avoid that from happening. Were you aware of that? 

Shido: Hm… But, this place does smell of the dead though. I’m sure that some sort of death will lie at the end of Milgram.

Es: Smell of the dead? 

Shido: Yes. I can somewhat recognise it from experience… A place which is filled with the smell of the dead, that is. 

Es: Is...that so? Well, either way, Milgram is a three-trial system. It lets me take my time to decide on whether or not I should forgive you. Even if you wish for the opposite, if I decide that you should be forgiven, then it’ll do just that without any hesitation. 

Shido: A three-trial system, right? It’ll take far too long, don’t you think? I’d rather this all be over as soon as possible.

Es: Like I care about what’s convenient for you. Don’t complain about the rules.

Shido: So, if it’s a three-trial system… Then, for example, if you absolutely can’t find it within yourself to forgive me and I don’t lodge an appeal in response, will my treatment be decided on the spot?

Es: That’s the three-trial system according to Japanese law. Milgram’s one is different from that. For the time being, you really should throw away what would be considered common sense there. I mean, if we’re gonna bring up Japan… Due to the abolition of the Prison law, this sort of prison shouldn’t even exist in the first place. (1)

Shido: Wow… 

Es: What is it? You’re going all wide-eyed. 

Shido: Ah, well… I was just thinking about how despite being a child, you’ve really done your research on this.

Es: Hey. [footsteps] You trying to make fun of me, is that it? 

Shido: What? Oh, no. I wasn’t trying to do anything like that.

Es: You were. Something’s been on my mind ever since the very beginning… “Es, this. Es, that.” It’s the belittling way you refer to me…  I’m the prison guard, you know that?

Shido: Oh, I’m completely aware of that. But, you’re still a child in actuality. Coming from me, who’s almost twice the age as you are, I just… 

Es: What is it?

Shido: For a child like you to be entrusted with this sort of role… My heart goes out to you. 

Es: Excuse me?

Shido: I don’t know what circumstances you face while guarding this prison nor the reason as to why you’re doing it, but I’m sure that it must take a toll on you emotionally as well. So, please do your best. [pats head]

Es: [is shook] I see. Oh, I see now. So, that’s how it is. So, that’s how it’s gonna be. [deep breaths]

Shido: Hm? Es?

Es: Don’t you dare… pat my head like that! [kicks]

Shido: [grunts] Please hold on for a second.

Es: Phew, I feel so much better now.

Shido: S-suddenly kicking my shin like that…wasn’t very nice of you.

Es: Shut up! Out of all the prisoners thus far, you’re the one I can’t stand the most. Going all pessimistic like that, running your mouth as if you knew everything, acting as if you’re oh-so mature, and never budging from that composed expression of yours—the nerve of you! On top of that, you even went so far as to pat my head. Do you think I’m your child? Do you?! Don’t fuck with me!

Shido: Didn’t you say that you wouldn’t use violence?

Es: It’s on a case-by-case basis.

Shido: What a thing to say.

Es: Hey, Shido. What the hell do you mean by "I want to die"? Don’t you dare try to insult me with that. Plead for your life with every fibre of your being! Our instinctive desire to stay alive is the very reason why punishments for our sins exist. To Milgram and to me, your very existence is sacrilegious! 

Shido: Es… 

Es: If your shin gets kicked, you’ll feel pain, won’t you? And if it hurts, you’ll cry out, won’t you? You’ll tear up, won’t you? 

Shido: Yeah… 

Es: Well, take that! Even if you boast about wanting to die, the pain you just felt is the exact same thing as your body screaming that it doesn’t want to. 

Shido: [pauses]

Es: While you’re still alive, you should be grabbing life with both hands! Don’t act as if you’re already dead. An adult like that has no right to treat me like a child. It makes my skin crawl. End of discussion!

Shido: I see… If I feel pain, then it’s proof that I want to live?

Es: Hmph!

Shido: [sighs] Well, with that being said, here’s my counterargument to it. It was the nociceptors in my shin which felt that pain. So, it's nothing more than a reaction caused by pain signals being transmitted to my spinal cord and then to my brain. That phenomenon is called nociceptive pain. 

Es: What?

Shido: What I’m saying is… Even if I do want to die, pain is something which will still involuntarily occur. And therefore, you, Es, were making a mistake in your claim.

Es: That's so immature of you. 

Shido: [laughs] It’s payback for kicking my shin like that. But, you know, I think it was an amazing mistake to have made. It was so radiant...to the point where it made me want to turn away. Just as I thought, you truly are a child…but that makes me incredibly happy.

Es: Shido… [mechanical noises] It’s time, huh.

Shido: So, this is what will be “extracting songs”? It sure is intriguing. I wonder what mine will be like. 

Es: Composed no matter what, aren’t you? Is there anything left you'd like to say? 

Shido: Oh, yeah. I don’t know about what the other prisoners may think about Milgram itself, but…  I fully agree with it.

Es: Sure seems that way.

Shido: I’m a fine specimen of what a murderer ought to be. I don’t mind when you hand down your judgement, but if it's possible… Instead of being told by the law that I won’t be forgiven, I wanted a child like you, Es, to tell me that.

Es: What?

Shido: I feel sorry that you had to be given this role. And, I truly apologise for being so insistent about sentencing me to death as well…  But, you’re perfect. You’ll give me the ending I’m most suited for. 

Es: [hesitates] Y-you… What’re you saying? A special request like that is so...

Shido: [laughs] Well, I wonder. I'm just trying to get you to punish me as of now. 

Es: [hesitates] 

Shido: I look forward to you handing down the correct judgment.

Es: You’re making a false presumption there. It’s the fact that it’s my judgment which makes it correct! That’s what Milgram is.

Shido: Then, I look forward to what you deem to be ‘correct’.

Es: Hmph. Say whatever you want.

Shido: Please make sure you don’t forgive me. Okay, Es?

Es: [scoffs] Don’t make me say it over and over again! I don’t give a shit about what you’re hoping for. Prisoner number 5, Shido. Come now. Sing your sins!

「監獄」 [kangoku] were essentially comprised of 「刑務所」 (for those people serving a sentence) and 「拘置所」 (for suspects, those who were awaiting a sentence or those on death row).  They operated under 「監獄法」 (the Prison Law). However, due to abolition of the Prison Law in 2007, those facilities are no longer called 「監獄」, but are now referred to as 「刑事施設」.

[hobbitsetal]

@loubuttons, ask and you shall receive.

~~

I've spent the last two years deconstructing and reconstructing my faith, and one of the things I've wrestled with and ultimately rejected is complementarianism, the view that men were created to lead and women to follow and submit. That is not the subject of this post.

Tied into the complementarian worldview I was taught was the belief that a woman's highest calling, and indeed her primary daughter, is to be a stay-at-home wife and mother. Now, while I currently am a SAHM, I do not think I'm theologically obligated to be one, nor is that my only or primary designation. It's part of my life right now, as dental assisting was my life for twelve years.

Rachel Jankovic is a complementarian (though perhaps she would say patriarchal, given that her father is Doug Wilson) who advocates the SAHM lifestyle as The Theologically Correct Way For Women. A loved one whose views I have diverged from sent me an article by Jankovic:

https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/the-harvest-of-homemaking

I'm here today to pick apart what I disagreed with most strongly. Under a readmore, because turns out I have a lot to say.

First of all, Jankovic begins her article with talking about how mothers who stay at home are pitied and considered to be using less than their full potential.

To quote: "For a generation at least, homemaking has been spoken of as a prison-like existence that stifles a woman’s gifts — as though homemakers have less ambition than others, less ability, less scope, less understanding."

I'm not sure who she's been talking to. My experience with me or my husband mentioning I stay home has been that people either respond with a degree of envy or laugh about the challenges of raising a small, active, and inquisitive boy.

She speaks of moms who complain on social media--specifically TikTok--that their families don't appreciate their work, and calls that sort of complaining the result of "worldly propaganda," making the point that women who stay at home just need to see the inherent value in their work.

In a lot of ways, I don't disagree. Contentment is a choice. Joy is a choice. Paul speaks of learning to be content in situations that ranged from beatings to imprisonment; I can certainly learn to choose contentment and joy when my son drops crumbs all over the carpet that I just vacuumed. But I take strong issue with her hermeneutics, her tone, and her belief that SAHM is the only Godly choice for Christian women.

She says, "Scripture is the basis for my commitment to being a homemaker, and if I never saw any other reason to love it, never saw the fruit, never understood the importance of the role, that should still be enough. ... At this point, some readers may have rolled their eyes because I mentioned Titus 2 and Proverbs 31 in the same embarrassingly uncool paragraph. Why is that? Could it be because you have been trained to despise passages like these? Could it be that you have listened to countless people explaining them away? Could it be that you have taken in enough worldly propaganda that you feel free to look down on the tone of the word of God and those who embrace it?"

Actually, no. Her exegesis of Titus 2 is lacking--Paul wrote to a specific situation, as Marg Mowzcko talks about here: https://margmowczko.com/busy-at-home-how-does-titus-24-5-apply-today/ .

Further, Proverbs 31 speaks of a woman engaged in business, not just running her house. Real estate, physical labor, delegation--the woman of Proverbs 31 isn't necessarily a SAHM, not with everything she's doing.

If I roll my eyes at Jankovic's invocation of these two passages of Scripture, it's because they are the go-to passages for patriarchs trying to limit women's gifts. It's because there are so many more passages we could look at when exploring the question of how Christian women ought to live (1 Corinthians 13? book of James? Philippians? anybody?) and I don't care for articles that assume my reaction like this.

I take issue, too, with Jankovic's dismissal of women's complaints:

"When I read those sorrowful monologues about the mental load, about how much it all weighs on the poor woman, about how unfair it all is, about how husbands should be responsible for far more housekeeping, all I can see is that women are suffering from the horrible pairing of trying to do the Lord’s work with the attitude of those who hate him. There will be no joy of obedience there. There will be no fruit of free giving there. There will be no strength and laughter and dignity there, because there is a thick fog of accusation, discontent, and envy."

Really? Women who complain about housekeeping are all malcontents who just need to have more joy and love God better? Somehow, I'm deeply skeptical of that.

Raising children is hard. Keeping house can be a lot of work. I have it easy right now--I'm in a small apartment and I only have one child who takes two naps per day--and I am profoundly grateful some days when my husband comes home and takes our son for a while.

Housekeeper is an entire job unto itself, as is childcare, cooking, and the other zillion tasks that go into running a house. My mother, when she had five children under ten, hired someone to clean her house twice a month because she couldn't keep up with everything alone. She had that privilege as the wife of a military officer. Most people don't have the disposable income to hire someone.

So what of the women who complain their husbands don't help with housekeeping? Maybe some of them are being malcontents. But I'm willing to bet a lot more feel like they aren't receiving the support they need.

My husband listened to me complain about communal laundry and immediately offered to take over the laundry for me so I wouldn't have to worry about it. How many husbands would respond by offering to take on more work in addition to their weekly jobs?

And that's just housecleaning. What about the women who want a little break from childcare, from the constant On of looking after tiny people, or some help with the cooking? How many of them have to fight for personal time, and how many of them have husbands who go out of their way to care for their wives' needs?

I'm further peeved by the way she elevates keeping the home:

"Is there any other work I could be doing that would be this exponentially fruitful or influential? A hundred years from now, I hope there are people who do not know my name or remember me, but nevertheless carry about with them seeds of faithful living that were first planted in the soil of this home."

Listen. I'm not here to denigrate the work of SAHMs. My mother put a lot of work into raising us kids; my sister and sisters-in-law are raising their children with care and thoughtfulness. Heck, I am a SAHM and a large part of that is that I want to pour time and attention into my children.

But any other work? Yeah, actually, a lot of fields. My twelve years in dentistry were exponentially fruitful and influential; I helped a lot of people overcome their fear of dentists and live healthier lives.

Or how about my nurse friend? She literally saves lives. Pretty sure we can regard that as exponentially fruitful and influential.

I can go on about this one for quite some time--my parents' work as Biblical counselors, my sister's career as a piano teacher and accompanist, my friend who works in ministry--but let's not belabor the point. The idea that raising children is The Most Fruitful Work any woman could do ever is insulting to the range of human capability and experience. Not every woman wants children. Not every woman enjoys children. And beyond that, not every woman can have children. Does this mean their work for God is less important? God forbid we say that.

The implications of claiming children are the pinnacle of Christian womanhood are far-reaching and dreadful. If children are the pinnacle of Christian womanhood, then any woman who doesn't have children--whether from celibacy, medical necessity, or personal choices--is failing to live up to God's Best For Her. She becomes a spiritual cripple in this view.

We are not spiritual cripples in Christ. God's best for us is that we become more like Him, that we are united to Him fully. Our gender doesn't matter, our ethnicity, our marital status, our parental status. Those play into our stories and into who we are as people, but when it comes to who we are in Christ, they don't matter.

"For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." Galatians 3:27-28

And whether we are stay-at-home mothers, working women, single or married, we are all in Christ. We are all precious to God, and we are all united. I am not better because I'm staying home. I am not closer to God or living The Ideal Christian Life more than my friends who are working, single, childless.

Rachel Jankovic's mindset leads to heartbreak. Christ offers healing and joy. And whatever path He leads us in, may we find that joy fully.

[spn-romantica]

So I watched SPN for years, right up until the end of S11, when they brought back Mary. I heard that S15 would be the last season, and I was like ‘oh ok I’ll rewatch (for like the 8th time) and finish SPN then’ BUT THEN 15x18 happened and I was violently pulled back into the SPN fandom. I still haven’t caught up fully watching yet, but I’ve read so much discourse now...and I have thoughts. Hypotheses currently. I’ll wait to finish the whole show for real to call any of this theories but, I wanted to record my thoughts.

They’re about Chuck. As a villain. Which weirds me out. As an antagonist? Sure. As evil? No. Can’t envision it. I just finished my rewatch of S5 and, damn, but if Chuck is the ultimate villain, S5 reads very differently. :0

But I recently saw a post comparing Dean’s reaction in 1x18 (I believe) to his in 10x05 (for sure) about when someone mentions his mother’s death. In 1x18, it’s Sam when they were children and Dean gets angry. In 10x05, it’s a group of high school girls and Dean just bops his head along to the song. The post was framing it as 10x05 not understanding Dean’s thoughts about his mother, but I think that both episodes understand Dean. When Dean is a child, the trauma over his mother’s murder is still fresh. By 10x05, the event is 70 years in the past. Of course it still affects Dean. Of course. You never really get over something like that. But I’d argue that after 70 years, Dean has moved through the stages of grief to acceptance. It still hurts, but like an old ache, not a fresh, still-bleeding wound.

Interestingly, 10x05 is when we see Chuck, after a long absence. He’s watching the play, probably happy that someone loves his work enough to even make a musical, but he is also watching the Winchesters. The actual episodes of the show, aka the books Chuck writes, are what Chuck knows/cares about regarding the Winchesters. Despite being God, I’d argue he doesn’t pay attention to every second and all the little minutia of the boys’ lives. So, here in 10x05, we have confirmation that Chuck is around to see that Dean has healed from his mother’s death.

Later, in S11, Dean acts as therapist/life counsellor to Chuck/God, regarding Amara and Lucifer. And it works! Dean teaches God about family and about healing. Why does God listen to Dean Winchester, a random human? Perhaps it is because of S1-5. Perhaps it is because Dean and Sam were part of God’s test, as God himself describes it in 5x22.

What was the test? Was it God’s experiment about choice and free will? About freedom vs peace? Or, perhaps, was God trying to understand sibling relationships? He and Amara are two faces of the same coin. They are siblings, but with very different outlooks and it caused a rift between them, caused Chuck to seal Amara away before she could destroy his creations. Chuck regretted this, but saw it as a necessary betrayal. But then, some time later, Chuck’s angelic children experience their own betrayal and sibling rift. Lucifer tries to turn the angels against God, rebel and reject God. He makes demons, for sure, and maybe even Hell. But why? God figures that Lucifer was maybe jealous of the new baby (humans) like others in the show postulates. Or maybe Lucifer had beef specifically with Michael, because humans are little more than amoebas from an angelic perspective. Aside from Castiel, Anna and a handful of other angels, angels consistently view humans as humans might view dust mites. Maybe humans were the cause of the rift between Michael and Lucifer, but it was Michael and Lucifer’s relationship that needed fixing in the end, regardless.

So God is left with the sad conclusion that maybe close siblings will inevitably betray each other and be unable to forgive and heal. He wants to heal with Amara. But he also wants Michael and Lucifer to be able to heal. (It doesn’t occur to God that maybe Lucifer’s problem was never with humanity or Michael; it was with God.)

So God has research to do, to see if it’s possible for siblings to experience such deep betrayal and still heal. He turns to his little hairless apes, the only sentient species on Earth with potential to parallel the angels. He starts testing siblings. Cain and Abel are first up. Needless to say, but the betrayal was too strong and left no room for healing. But on down the line of Cain, God continues testing. Eventually, we come to Sam and Dean.

God has scheduled Michael and Lucifer’s family counselling session for 2010. All the data up to this point says it can only end badly. Maybe it’ll half-kill the Earth, but it’s finally time for Michael and Lucifer to meet and for one of them to die. God isn’t happy about this conclusion, but it’s what the data says. So, finally, the last test subjects, the last in the line who will be the vessels for Michael and Lucifer’s showdown, arrive. Sam and Dean Winchester are to be the last sibling test. The conclusion seems foregone at this point, but there is no point in cancelling the last bit of the test after so long, so it continues. God watches. And Sam and Dean surprise God. Siblings after siblings had failed for millennia to heal. Betrayals too strong, healing too little, too late. But Sam and Dean. no matter how badly they hurt each other, find a way to come back together and heal. They don’t give up on each other, despite millennia of data to the contrary. Still, the angels and demons push and push at Sam and Dean until their rift is as wide and as deep as Michael and Lucifer’s, as God’s and Amara’s (in late S4). It seems, despite the brothers’ best efforts earlier on, it’s all for naught.

But there is a further element of randomness, something God couldn’t foresee. Castiel. God hasn’t had occasion for romantic love in his own experience, so he is entirely blind to what choices Castiel is likely to make. He provides an element of randomness to the experiment, an essential part that gives Dean the ultimate chance to go back to Sam and begin to heal (4x22).

Throughout S5, Sam and Dean heal. There is hurt, still, of course, but they love each other and forgive each other. By 5x22, they’ve surprised everyone. Even the angels have given up on turning them against each other, and have shrugged and settled for using Nick and Adam as the vessels for the showdown. Sam and Dean passed their test. They were siblings who betrayed each other and healed from it. God reconsiders how family counselling will go with Michael and Lucifer. He figured it would be the Apocalypse, the end of the problems between Michael and Lucifer, as one of them dies, as had always happened before. But, Sam and Dean showed God, that though it is rare, it is possible to heal. So God gives Sam and Dean an out. He gives Sam the strength to seize back control from Lucifer, should things go south.

Finally, the showdown arrives. Michael and Lucifer meet. They talk things out. To God’s surprise, Lucifer reveals that he never had a problem with Michael. He had forgiven Michael long ago. But Michael couldn’t forgive Lucifer. He had to be a ‘good son’ and do what he thought God wanted him to do. But Michael didn’t realise, that God doesn’t give orders. Free will all the way, baby! But the whole thing comes as a surprise. Apparently, all this time, the problem relationship wasn’t siblings, it was parents.

Oops.

Good thing God had a back-up plan.

Sam throws himself and Lucifer (and Michael and Adam) into the Cage. Michael and Lucifer have an eternity to figure things out between each other now. But that’s beside the point. The point is, now, that God has to start testing all over again. Not how to fix sibling relationships, but how to fix parent-child relationships.

God restores Castiel, perhaps for a few reasons because God exists outside of time, but originally it may have been just for one. He likes Castiel. He is impressed that Castiel invented free will for himself, broke free of angelic programming (multiple times over), and did it all for love. It’s novel. It’s interesting. God might even think it’s sweet. But God has had time later, and thought about it, and he has a plan. And Castiel is essential.

But Dean Winchester is the key.

Sam and Dean’s relationship with their own father has been strained, but both boys find a way to forgive John his flaws and failings, and love him. Whenever they do get a chance to see him again, post his death, they don’t hate him. They’ve healed. John’s relationship with Sam and Dean is one point of data, Abraham and Isaac another. There are many data points that God can reflect back on and consider.

But as S6 through S10 roll on, God watches Sam and Dean and Castiel. He even watches Crowley and Rowena for another data point. Dean is his main focus, however. (This is a little meta, but as the story focuses more on Dean than Sam post S5, it ties in. Prior to S6, both Sam and Dean were essential - the sibling test. Now, post S5, the parent test, Dean is the most essential. Of course, Sam and Castiel are important too. But Dean is key.)

Dean is a good father. He was a good father to Sam, even when he was only 6 years old himself. He was a good father to Ben. He was willing to die for Bobby John. He’s always good with kids. Not only that, but Dean is blunt enough, brave enough, and crazy enough to tell God to God’s face what he thinks. God needs Dean’s advice, his perspective and opinion on family relationships, but he also needs to see what Dean would do if he were in God’s shoes.

[Edit (1/04/21): After seeing Michael and Lucifer (mostly) heal, and after seeing Sam and Dean heal their relationship, God finally has hope for him and Amara. So God logically wants to retrieve Amara from her prison. But how? Well, he could just wander on up to Cain and do it himself, but what would Amara say? “So I see you’ve come crawling back, eh, Chucky?” She wouldn’t be impressed with God. She wouldn’t understand, because she’s hopeless too. SO how to give her hope? How to make her see that she and God can be okay again? Why, stick her near Dean Winchester, of course! So God sets things up for Dean to get and lose the Mark of Cain, thereby ensuring that Amara will feel a connection to Dean and stick around him/keep him alive long enough for Dean to work his life-coach magic.]

In S11, God and Amara heal their relationship because of the hope Sam and Dean gave God, and also the direct advice Dean gives God. God and Lucifer, not so much.

God needs more data. He needs to see what Dean would do. In comes Castiel’s relevance. God sets things up so that Lucifer can have a son. A nephil. Jack. And God points Castiel in Jack’s direction, trusting Castiel’s ability for unconditional love to keep Jack alive long enough for the experiment. Castiel becomes Jack’s father. But Castiel will never betray Jack, the way God betrayed Lucifer. And, besides, Castiel isn’t the target of this experiment. But it is Castiel’s relationship with Dean Winchester that provides the link needed to get the experiment rolling.

Because Jack is Castiel’s son, he is therefore Sam and Dean’s nephew. Except, God has been watching Castiel and Dean. And, frankly, their romantic love for each other is so obvious even God cannot miss it. Through Castiel, Dean sees Jack as his son too. He loves Jack, exactly like a son. In this way, Dean parallels God, and Jack parallels Lucifer.

But God knows Dean would not easily turn on any child, let alone his own child. So God had a plan for that too. One that Amara helped him with.

They brought back Mary Winchester.

Mary is the one person in existence whose loss would hurt Dean enough to spur him to action. So, she was brought back to die. It was a matter of only a few years of gentle prodding to get everything in position. Jack causes Mary’s death. Dean is faced with a horrible decision. If Jack can kill Mary, what’s to say that Sam and Castiel wouldn’t be next? Mary’s death is like everything beginning all over again for Dean as well. Her first death set off a chain reaction, a series of unfortunate events that spanned decades and nearly caused the ruination of not only Dean’s life, but Sam’s and John’s and even the world. That scar, which had healed as well as it could after 70 years, that God saw was healed in 10x05, has been violently opened up again. It’s the only thing that could force Dean’s hand, that could get him to betray Jack and try to kill him. If Jack had killed Sam or Castiel, it wouldn’t have had the same effect. Both Sam and Castiel had died and come back so many times, and while it would hurt Dean and make him doubt Jack, their deaths would be a sacrifice that Dean would feel obligated to respect, to give Jack a second chance like they would both want. (And God has been laying the groundwork for Dean, convincing him that Jack is evil, will be evil like Lucifer, can’t be allowed to live. All things God has thought about Lucifer over time. Was Lucifer inherently evil? Was their rift inevitable?)

So, here it is. The big test. Will Dean kill Jack? Will he betray Jack and cause an unhealable rift? Or will he find a way to heal, like he did with Sam against all the odds?

And, once again, Dean impresses God. He refuses to kill Jack.

But now we’re in the endgame. Sam, Dean and Castiel are aware that Jack’s life was only on the line because of God. It’s not something they can forgive, or understand. They’re all God’s guinea pigs, and while he loves his guinea pigs, he knows he’s hurt them in the name of science, of knowledge. or healing, and God can’t undo what he’s done. Free will is linear, after all. So it is time for the Winchesters, Castiel and Jack included, to be done with God. God is done with them, too. It’s time for them to be free and at peace. The experiments are done. God has decided not to kill Lucifer. He has decided to try to heal. He can get Lucifer out of the Empty and talk and try to fix things. He has forever to fix things, now that he knows he can. (The last element of this, Jack forgiving Dean for trying to kill him, is something I have limited knowledge of, but I am under the impression happens so... To be added in the edit once I finish the series.)

But the only way the Winchesters will be able to rest, is if they think God, the last and greatest villain, is out of the way. They know they’ve been manipulated their whole lives, first towards the sibling experiment and now the parent experiment, so they need to think God is gone so they can feel secure in their free will once more. Truthfully, God never took their free will. He set them up in situations, maybe even gave a bio-chemical nudge of anger (Dean) or attraction (Sam and Eileen) every now and then. But the choices were always theirs. Still, God knows they won’t see it that way. So he sets things up so that they can defeat him.

He lets them win. He wants them to win. They cannot defeat God, after all. It’s not God’s time, and Death is the only one who can claim God in the end, as the two embrace as friends and walk to the next existence. But the Winchesters need this, and so God allows it. A last gift, to the beings who have been such help, hope and inspiration to him.

With an eye for an eventual S16, 15x20 is written to be ‘an ending’ but also one that could easily be reframed as a bad dream.

For example...

Unfortunately, after Jack, suped up on a extra Grace God lent him, restores the Earth and expends all the Grace (”giving up the mantle of God so that their is no God, no plans, only Free Will”), and Dean, Sam and Jack head back to the Bunker to regroup and gather the ingredients to do the spell to rescue Castiel from the Empty, they’re jumped by monsters who are angry with how much God has fucked with them on behalf of the Winchesters. 15x20 is all a djinn dream Dean is trapped in.

16x01 is Dean waking himself up from the djinn dream, Sam and Jack escaping their own monsters, and then the end of 16x01 is Dean saying something about waking Castiel up from his own dreams in the Empty. The rest of S16 sees the boys save Castiel, reunite with Eileen, start a monster-hunting Bobby Singer/Men of Letters-esque organisation, Dean and Castiel getting together and getting married on Valentine’s Day, Jack getting to live a normal life, going to school, making friends, etc.

If their is no S16 ever (which would be criminal), then 15x20 makes no sense, unless it is plainly a recount of an old, hopeless ending written by God. However you spin it, 15x20 is not the way it seems (like owls).

All things being said, God is an antagonist, but he’s not evil. He’s an asshole, sure, but he never once worked against the Winchesters, never bet against them, never tried to erase or end them. He wanted them to win. He wanted to see the fruits of free will be love, second chances, hope, forgiveness, healing, and happiness, not just betrayal, pain, selfishness, jealousy, disappointment, and hopelessness.

Why is the ending he shows Becky ‘hopeless’? Because God is. He has spent his long existence losing his most loved family members. Amara, Lucifer. How can things end well for God, when they can’t even end well for humans? But Sam and Dean defy the script, again and again. They surprise God, defying the statistics, defying the hypotheses, throwing the experiment into disarray. Giving God hope. Sam and Dean were okay. Dean and Jack were okay. If God had a romantic love, he would find hope from Dean and Castiel being okay. But when God wrote the book he showed Becky, he was writing what he thought would happen. In the end, surely, not even Dean can be enough to hold Sam and Cas and Jack together. But in the end, as we see, as God sees, he is proven wrong and he’s happy to be wrong. He’s hopeful. And he can leave Dean, Sam, Castiel and Jack, and all the angels and all the humans, to rule the Earth and the Heavens. He doesn’t need to learn anything more from them, so he heads to the Empty, with Amara, with Lucifer, with Death (Billie or not, Death is there for God in the end), and they can all depart for a better existence of their own.

If you read all of this, thanks! I eagerly anticipate watching the remaining 10 seasons so I can come back and edit the heck outta this, but until then, if y’all have any thoughts, I’d be interested to hear them~

TLDR: God is a morally bankrupt scientist and the Winchesters are his guinea pigs, but he’s not evil and he does love his guinea pigs, even if he could really treat them nicer.

[breitzbachbea]

Ask game time! When you get this post 5 songs and then send it to 10 other people <3

But also can they be like a 5 song playlist for Michelle or Charlie 👉👈

Oh, I didn't see the second addition! Who am I to turn down a request like this! <3 Michele has his own playlist on spotify as well!

Michele:

Blame It On The Girls by Mika - To combine your requests, I love the idea of Charlie taking Mika's role here as he sings to & about Michele 😆 It's really the "Your life could be perfect, but there's this little voice in your head that always ruins it for you" that makes it a Michele song. That, the dead father line and the pansexuality.

La ballata del Michè by Fabrizio de André - TW Suicide mention for this one. I love how it's a wonderful song to waltz to on a late summer day, but the song is about a man named Michè who killed himself in prison, because he couldn't bear to be parted from his love for so long - at least that is what the narrator tells us. No need to explain why this song fits.

The Man by The Killers - I know it's an ironic song about toxic masculinity and it's 50% that for Michele as well, a bit tongue in cheek about his role as a big fish in the pond. It's also 50% genuine though, albeit that it suits him genuinely better before his fall from grace.

I'm Still Standing by Elton John (cover by Taron Egerton) - Something for my recovering Michele, celebrating that he survived his childhood and all the damage it caused. "Looking like a true survivor! Feeling like a little kid!"

Vietato Morire by Ermal Meta - I imagine this song to be something that Michele teaches the twins, based on his own childhood experiences, but it's also a reminder to himself. The chorus goes as follows: "Change your stars, if you try it you will succeed // And remember that love never hits in the face // My son, remember // The man that you will become // Can never be greater than the love you give"

Michele's playlist has a lot of rather bleak songs, due to how central his issues and character development are to the mainstory. I tried to aim for a mix that showcases both. Honorary mentions to other stuff on the playlist: The In-Between by In This Moment, Requiem from Dear Evan Hansen and Eros and Apollo by The Studio Killers.

Charlie:

Grace Kelly by Mika - I don't know how far you've made it into Italian Affairs by now, but it's the Charco subplot. It's just the Charco subplot - and Charlie in general! It's as if someone had turned his feelings & train of thoughts into a song! He's so proud of his individuality, but he also craves validation from the people he likes so badly. "Do I attract you, do I repulse you with my queasy smile? Am I too dirty, am I too flirty, do I like what you like? Yeah, I could be wholesome, I could be loathsome, guess I'm a little bit shy. Why don't you like me, why don't you like me without making me try?"

I Like Boys by Todrick Hall - No explanation needed. It's His Gayesty.

Zielscheibe by OOMPH! - This song is about teasing and provoking people who try to bully or ostracize one. It's also in the Charlie & Robert playlist on spotify, for the obvious reason that the person Charlie likes to tease with his pure existence the most is Robert. "Shoot finally, pull the trigger at last // Come and use me as a target for your prejudices! // I like it when you take a shot at me!"

Who I Am by The Score - Charlie is by far not the only character who takes pride in who they are as a person, but it was an integral part of his character from the beginning. This song is a good example of it.

Open Wounds by Skillet - I haven't listened to this song in a long time, but it still deserves its spot on my LFLS Playlist as an example of the relationship Charlie had with his father Connor. Charlie really loved his father and hoped until his last breath that Connor would accept him after his coming out instead of making him feel like he had failed him as a son.

[therenlover]

The Doctor Is In (Part Two of Till Forever Falls Apart, A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, Falling in Love, Attempted Theft, Secrets, Suspicions, 

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild Language, Slight Sexual Innuendo

Word Count: 2800~

This work, as well as the other completed parts of this series, have been crossposted to my AO3! 

-----

To Peter’s credit, it had all started with good intentions… okay, semi-good intentions, but that was the best defense he had to offer.

One moment he’s speeding into a funky building with a cool glass window looking for a knick-knack to take home to Y/N and the next he’s falling through endless darkness, searching for anything he could possibly grab onto. It was hell. Worst of all, though, he couldn’t use his speed. The world was only emptiness and darkness for as far as he could reach. Well, it was until he hit the ground.

It was a sudden jolt after what felt like hours of captivity when Peter hit the cool tiles of the flooring below him. The bright light after total darkness burned his eyes. He winced against it, lifting his arms to shield his face. There was no time to acclimate to his new surroundings, though, which were definitely not part of the building he had been inside before he might add, because the second his vision came back into focus a booming voice rang out from behind him.

“Peter Maximoff, what purpose did you have for breaking into the Sanctum Sanctorum?”

Peter spun around quickly on the ground to find a man floating behind him. Wait, floating? He didn’t even have time to question how the stranger knew his name while he was questioning what the hell he was. Was he a mutant? The man looked furious, his red cape billowing out behind him in an almost menacing manner while he stroked his goatee, eyebrows pinched together with rage. Peter had no clue what his deal was or who the hell he was looking at but he did know he had to calm him down fast if he wanted to avert disaster.

Apparently, he was thinking too long though because he wasn’t fast enough.

“I’ll ask you one last time,” the man’s hands came down to chest level, whirring with some sort of orange power, “why did you break into the Sanctum Sanctorum? This is your last chance,”

Somewhere in the distance, a dull thud sounded against the tile, like someone dropping a purse or bag. Peter didn’t have time to think about that, though. He was too busy saving his own life. All he had to do was get to his feet so he could run off! Unfortunately, that was better said than done.

“Woah, Woah, Woah!” he scrambled backward trying to stand but found his feet bound with the same orange sparks that were growing by the second in his attacker’s hands, “I have no clue what the hell a Sanctum Sanctorum is! I think you’ve got the wrong guy, man,”

His assailant cocked his head to the side. “So you’re telling me some other inhumanly fast kleptomaniac mutant from another dimension broke through all of my wards and tried to steal priceless magical artifacts from the Sanctum?”

Peter shrugged nonchalantly. “Magical artifacts? Dude, magic isn’t real. You’ve got the wrong guy,”

Thankfully, the man sighed in exhaustion, letting the orange sparks in his palms disappear as he pinched the bridge of his nose leaving only the ones around Peter’s ankles remaining. For the first time in his life, Peter was glad to be annoying.

“Jesus, I should have had my coffee before dealing with you…”

“I know right?” Peter propped himself up on his hands, “it’s always tragic when you catch the wrong guy, but I’m sure you’ll find your thief eventually. In fact, I think I saw some super speedy dude running towards Central Park when I was walking past that fancy building with the big circle window. That’s so weird! Maybe you should let me go so you can go find your guy,”

The man only seemed to get more pissed off the further Peter dug himself into his own grave. “Oh, I’m not planning on letting you go any time soon. I’m just avoiding a reckoning by letting your keeper know I’m taking you into the Avenger’s custody before we go,”

He was so screwed. “That’s not a-”

Before Peter could even finish his sentence, a crash echoed from across the room.

“STEPHEN STRANGE,”

Now, Peter couldn’t decide if he was saved or even more screwed than before.

There, across the room of what he had now gathered to be a large exhibit at some sort of museum, was Y/N. To say she looked furious would be an understatement.

The art on the walls seemed to shake in her wake as she stormed into the open center of the room, eyes boring holes into Peter’s assailant as she rolled up the sleeves of her paint-stained denim button-up. He could only imagine that this was the reckoning the magic dude was trying to avoid.

The man, Stephen, didn’t waver despite Y/N’s entrance. “Would it kill you to just use my title? I got my doctorate for a reason, you know,” His tone was flat and almost bored as Y/N seethed.

“Fuck you,” she spat, “what the hell are you doing with Peter? And bringing him here of all places? I thought you were supposed to be the responsible Avenger,”

“And I thought you were supposed to keep this menace under control. It looks like we both have a few responsibilities we aren’t keeping up with, huh?”

Across the floor, Peter winced. He hadn’t intended on getting anyone in trouble, he was just looking for a little fun to pass the time and maybe a housewarming gift that would fit in with the rest of Y/N’s antique decor. How was he supposed to know that a crazy, magic, floating guy would take him to what he could only assume was magic prison for breaking into his wizard’s lair? Surprisingly, Y/N picked up his movement.

“Peter, are you okay?” Her eyes never left Strange, flaming with a ferocity that bordered on homicidal, but her voice softened considerably as she spoke to him. He was quick to respond.

“I’m all good! A little tied up at the moment, but it’s nothing I can’t handle!” He shouted back.

Y/N nodded. “Good, just stick tight while I deal with this asshole,”

As the last words left her lips all the softness she had mustered for Peter’s sake dissolved, leaving behind pure, unbridled anger once more.

“You had no right to take him, Strange. We made a deal,”

“You’re right, we did make a deal,” Stephen responded, floating to the ground and taking a step closer to Y/N, “but my duties as Sorcerer Supreme will always come first,”

“That has nothing to do with him! He poses no threat to this universe!”

“He was attempting to steal extremely powerful magical artifacts, Y/N! If a mutant from another dimension had gotten their hands on the Book of Vishanti or the Clock of the Ages who knows what might have happened?”

Y/N stilled. “Peter,” her voice wasn’t the same as it had been when she was shouting at Strange, but it also wasn’t half as gentle as it has been before, “did you steal anything from Stephen?”

Peter, still dazed from the entirety of the experience, was quick to defend himself.

“No! No, I didn’t steal anything!”

One sharp look from Stephen and Y/N sent him spiraling for an excuse.

“Okay, I went in with the intention of stealing, but I had no idea that stuff was magical! I didn’t even know wizards existed! Witches I understood but wizards too? In the middle of New York? Besides, all of this is a moot point! I didn’t actually take anything,”

Surprisingly, Y/N’s expression seemed to soften once again. “See, Stephen? Peter didn’t mean any harm. Now let him go, and this can all be a thing of the past,” As she spoke, he could have sworn that her eyes began to faintly glow.

“I still don’t think it’s a great idea to let him roam free,” Stephen ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair and the restraints around Peter’s ankles tightened slightly.

“Then you’ll have to take him from me,” Y/N brought her hands up, small rippling balls of light beginning to grow in her palms. Peter had never been so scared and aroused in his life. Was this the ‘small power’ she had mentioned to him when he moved in?

“I have remained civil with you and the mages of your order, Strange, but you have no power over me, especially on my own home turf. You lack the time stone now, so you know what will happen if you and I go toe to toe again. Besides, none of that matters. Peter is mine. Mine to protect and defend until he returns to his rightful place in his universe. So, will you let him go, or will we have to settle this the old-fashioned way?”

Y/N’s eyes were definitely glowing now, a brilliant green gleaming from within her as a rough breeze began flowing in from the door across the room. Stephen made no move to attack though. Instead, he heaved a sigh. “You can have your man child back Y/N, calm down,”

Slowly, the glow dissipated, the orbs of light shrinking into nothingness as she lowered her hands. “Thank you, Stephen,”

In an instant, it was as if the pair had gotten along the whole time.

He nodded. “Don’t thank me, just keep him away from ancient magical secrets next time,” Strange paused as if he was finished speaking, but then chuckled softly. It was the most human Peter had ever seen him. “You know how this ends, Y/N. We both do. Are you really sure you want to go through with this?”

It was Y/N’s turn to nod. “I appreciate that you’re looking out for me, but I made my choice a long time ago. There has never been another path for me. Please respect that,”

Peter was clueless as to what any of their exchange meant, too busy rubbing the ache out of his newly freed ankles to think too deeply about whatever deep exchange was happening in front of him, but a nagging feeling in his chest made him think that it must have something to do with him.

Then, in a burst of golden light, Stephen Strange was gone, leaving Y/N and Peter alone as they took in everything that had just happened. It was silent for a moment, the two of them caught between being stunned and glad to see each other, before Y/N’s angry facade melted away.

“What a fucking asshole,” she snickered, making her way over to Peter and offering him a hand, “I hate that guy,”

Peter took her hand and, with a soft pull, was finally upright again. “I know, right? He seems like a total douchebag,”

“Right? Like, yeah it’s terrible enough to kidnap you and try to take you into Avengers custody, but trying to get me to hand you over at my job? That’s just rude on a whole new level,”

“You work here?” Peter gestured at the art on the walls, making Y/N smile.

“Yeah, this is where I go every day. Welcome to the Brooklyn Museum!” She began to lead him out towards the door, linking her arm around his in a strangely intimate act. Peter was sure that she didn’t mean it like that but something about her closeness made his heart flutter.

He guffawed as they walked, passing happy couples and exhibits packed full. “It’s cool here, but I just assumed you worked somewhere… I dunno, more hero-y?”

Y/N laughed. “Everyone always does, but I’ve been attached to restoring paintings since before I ever took up the whole hero gig. I guess it’s the one stable thing I’ve had for my whole life.”

Watching Y/N’s face light up almost made Peter forget that less than an hour earlier he’d been shoved in an infinite dark dimension and threatened with imprisonment by a wizard. It was like she was the only thing worth seeing in a building full of priceless art.

“I’ve always felt strangely comfortable in museums,” she continued, hand brushing against Peter’s bicep in what he could only assume was an accident, “being surrounded by history just feels right to me. It’s like coming home,” Peter couldn’t help but grin, holding back a snicker.

“I’m guessing that’s the real reason you offered to take me in,” he teased, gently ribbing Y/N and making her giggle, “just couldn’t help but bring home a blast from the past who still has their youthful good looks,”

“You caught me! I just couldn’t resist your elderly charms,”

In a moment of poor judgment, Peter found himself leaning into her touch but was surprised to find her leaning right back into him. His heart began to pound faster. He could only hope she couldn’t tell. The feeling of being close to Y/N, listening to her laugh, being the shoulder she leaned on… it was like nothing Peter had ever felt before.

The short remainder of their walk to Y/N’s destination was mostly quiet, but neither of them tried to pull away from the other. Their moment only ended when they reached a large door labeled ‘Staff Only’. Y/N finally unlinked her arm from Peter’s before turning to face him. He was proud to note the flush on her face.

“I’m gonna go grab my bag,” she muttered, worrying the edge of her lip with her teeth, “do you mind taking me home? Traveling with you would probably be faster than hailing a taxi, and way less expensive,”

Between the thought of getting to be close to Y/N again and the excitement of getting to show off his powers, Peter was eager to please. “Sure thing! Do you want me to grab your bag for you? I’m sure I’d be quicker?” He emphasized his statement with a wink. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the desired effect.

Instead, Y/N looked almost nervous as she shook her head no. “I’ve got it, Peter,” she insisted.

He quirked up an eyebrow in surprise. “You sure? We could be home in a minute tops, just say the word,”

“There’s just a lot of important museum stuff back there! I trust you Peter, but this is priceless art we’re talking about, so I’d rather not take any chances. I’ll be back in a second!”

She slowly backed towards the door, offering him one last smile before disappearing into the darkness beyond. Something about her expression turned Peter’s stomach. It wasn’t unfamiliar, she had acted similarly in a few days Peter had known her at seemingly random times, but it just seemed… suspicious, like there was something he should definitely know that he was being kept in the dark about. Despite everything, he shook off the feeling, chalking it up to him not understanding all the intricacies of this new universe. If love made him blind, he was willing to take that chance.

It only took a few minutes for Y/N to emerge, a small messenger bag in hand, but when she did she was joyful once again, offering Peter an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Did I miss anything while I was gone?”

He shook his head, pulling down his goggles and offering her his hand. “Not much, just the end of the world,”

She giggled. “So do I just hop on your back or what?”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. In a second he was down on his knee. “All aboard,” He did his best to keep still as Y/N settled herself on his back, then he was lifting her easily, arms hooked under her knees as she giggled into his hair. “What’s so funny?”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders securely as he stood. “I just expected you to call yourself the Bohner express,”

It took all of Peter’s strength to keep his laughter under control. “You tell me that now? After the opportunity to use it has passed?”

Y/N squeezed him a little tighter. “I’m sure you’ll get to use it next time,”

The thought of a next time sent Peter’s heart rate through the roof. Oh, it was on.

“I’d hold on if I were you,” he said, smirking, “the Bohner express is leaving the station,”

Y/N was quick to snap back. “Let’s hope it doesn’t disappoint,”

“Oh Y/N, the Bohner express never disappoints,”

“Prove it,”

Peter had them back to the brownstone in record time.

[fallenrepublick]

Hi ! Back again with some ridiculous questions... First , what kind of students would Thrawn, Thrass, Maul, Savage, Vader, Eli, Tarkin, Krennic and Grand Inqui be ?

And then, what kind of teachers would they be ?

And btw, thank you so much for taking the time to answer my dumb questions and for brightening my days. You're such a talented writer, I absolutely love your works ❤❤❤

Ahhh back to the good 'ol school days...

As a student, Thrawn was Mister Perfect. He showed up, sat silently in class, took notes with the most illegible handwriting you've ever seen in your life, and maintained perfect scores. However, what many never saw coming was his tendency to be argumentative with teachers. He finds their strategies boring and obsolete, and is not afraid to tell them as much. He's been threatened with disciplinary action more than once, but only ever replied, "The truth is not equivalent to disrespect."

As a teacher, he's thorough. The goal is not good scores, but rather students who know not only what is happening, but why, whether it be military or art history. People in his class are never afraid to ask questions, as he openly encourages it, and is willing to explain the same concept a million different ways if it means it's helping them.

Student life for Thrass was about as skewed as you'd expect. He excelled at debate, writing, and government, and those teachers loved him. But he's stubborn, and he will not do something that he doesn't want to do. This means that his math classes saw him maybe once a week, and he only barely passed. Perfect he was not, but that didn't stop people from falling at his feet left and right. Which... he never enjoyed either.

As a teacher, he seems like a strict hardass from the outside looking in. People would tell stories about him and how much he expects and how he grades. But really, it isn't nearly that bad. He discusses a lot about how he wants good, honest efforts, but he also isn't uptight about it either. Every so often, he'll look at his lesson plan, say, "I don't feel like doing this, do you?" Which means that they spend the rest of the time playing games.

Maul was the competitive student, the one that had to be the best at everything. He would have silent bouts of anger each time he wasn't at the top of the class for grades. Although... rumour had it that it wasn't exactly by choice. Still, he excelled at languages and anything relating to physical activity. An odd pair, but it worked well for him.

But as a teacher, he's quite casual about it all. At the beginning of the year, the students always dread it, as he makes everything seem like the worst experience they'll ever have. He's got a specific title you have to refer him to or he'll End You, there's no excuse for anything below a 95%, no freebies, etc. etc... He forgets about all of that literally the next day. People began realising it when they mentioned they didn't have time to finish assignments or homework. He'd just shrug and tell them to bring it the following week. Multiple people began calling him Maul, and he would answer as if it were a normal occurrence. The class average on an exam was a 70 once, and he only said, "Well, you passed, at least."

Savage was the student who looked like he could kill you, and could, but also most likely wouldn't. He was the one that followed Maul around everywhere, and was also himself followed by an even smaller sibling. He wasn't competitive, only here for the sake of getting through it at all, and never had much interest in the subjects outside of... geology. Random, yes, but he found it fun.

When he teaches, he's the gentler one, the type that listens to the students' troubles, whether class related or not, and is always there to help when he can. He stays late to give help, comes early for even more extra help, and knows the value of a good sticker on your paper when you scored well.

You know what Vader was like as a student. He was horrendous. Bad. The rules are his rules, and if he doesn't like them, they don't exist. No teacher wanted to deal with him, and when they did have to, they didn't dare try to call him out for the times he was late or ignored simple instructions that he didn't like.

His teaching style is... interesting. It isn't overly suffocating, but it isn't fun, and it definitely isn't cushy. He needs everything in on time Or Else, and yet he takes for heckin' ever to grade. A hypocrite, just as he always has been, but are you really going to try to argue with him? Yeah, I thought not.

Eli's experience as a student was fairly standard. He was a bit in the higher range when it came to grades, he participated enough that he was known but not favoured, he always seemed to have a promising future. He's the master of Hindsight 20/20, though, so much of the issues that he has with scheduling could be fixed if he payed more attention. And yet he always found himself running across the halls to his next class.

As a teacher, he's... the boring one. Well, by the student's standards, anyways. It certainly can be worse, but his students know next to nothing about him, and his tendency to keep to himself means that the students don't feel all that comfortable around him either. But he's good, great even, at teaching his content, his averages always high, his performance admirable amongst his colleagues.

Tarkin's student experience was filled with rich-kid nonsense, extra extra after school study sessions, cram school, high level courses, an unreasonable amount of clubs. Everyone from teachers to other students worried that he worked himself too much. He did, of course, but no one needed to know that.

Now this. This is the ice teacher. This is the teacher everyone warns you about, the one no one wants to be stuck with. He's the teacher that Maul pretends he is. The one with no leeway, the one that runs everything like a damn prison. I shudder at the mere thought.

Ah Krennic, the classic case of believing talent can get you anywhere. His days as a student were filled with one-sided competition with Tarkin, trying to get better grades, one-up him, prove himself superior. Nevermind that their classes were completely different, and that Krennic was actually at the low end of the class rank. He was always so convinced he could do it. When he talks about his old school days to people who weren't there, he will often claim that he did do it.

His teaching is about as good as his engineering... there are a few holes. His descriptions lack sometimes, he tends to leave out info. And after exams, when students cry out that he never talked about something, he will insist that he did, and they were not paying attention. He answers question by repeating the same things he just said.

The Grand Inquisitor was the quiet student, the one that sat in the back, the one that never volunteered to answer, did all the projects by himself, and to many, never existed at all. Students used to say that he was a ghost, and he was actually just haunting the school until he could move on. He never bothered to correct them. Instead, he continued to listen, allowing himself to be both a skilled student and a gold mine for the latest scandals. Truly an inspiration of our time.

As a teacher, he's the type that prefers to show, not tell. Instead of lectures there are videos, examples, real life discussions about where the subject would appear, and how it would be used. He wants his students to hunt for the answer rather than be given it immediately, which he is certain will give them a benefit later on in life, as it's a useful skill. Surprisingly, the students like him, despite how quiet and odd he is.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Dances and Daggers

Summary: The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 18: The End

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Word Count: 1,793

A/N: Oh my goodness, we're here. We're at the last chapter. I can't believe it. Thank you all so much for reading and liking and commenting-- you've all made the last seventeen weeks absolutely wonderful, and I'm so grateful :)

TW: Mentions of violence, child abuse, description of a dead body

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @moumouton4 @berriemalfoy @whatafuckingdumbass @sophlubbwriting

if you want to be tagged, feel free to just send me an ask/message! :)

Read it on Ao3!

The Winter Festival was in full swing. Teki surveyed the crowd from her place on the royal platform. She still wasn’t entirely comfortable sitting so high above everyone else, but the spot wasn’t anywhere near as unnerving as she had first found it. Besides her, Brant munched contentedly on the meat she had chopped into tiny pieces for him. In the beginning, he had been so frightened of sitting atop the podium that he was afraid to even ask her to cut his food, but after several months he had grown quite at ease with the whole thing.

“Teki!” he’d whisper excitedly, pulling on her sleeve. ”You can see everyone in the hall from here!”

She couldn’t help but grin.

On her other side, Loki grasped her hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

Teki returned his eager smile. “Of course!”

People parted for them as he led her through the crowd, the skirt of her emerald dress billowing around her legs, a silky cloud of green. Loki’s dagger hung at her hip. She had been wearing it every night as of late. It brought a strange sort of tranquility to feel it at her side, something that she hadn’t thought was every possible. It had been hard to look at it at first, to hold it in her hands and know that it had allowed her to take a life. Osvald’s blank stare haunted her whenever she closed her eyes.

But … there was something powerful in it as well, something she couldn’t quite explain. For so long, she had been this helpless little girl who kept her head down and hands clasped in her lap, whose only defense had ever been to close her eyes and hope for the danger to pass, but now … she wasn’t. Everyone knew about her now, not as the fiancé to a prince who held no interest in her, but as a survivor who vanquished the monster who murdered her father. It was an odd feeling. Teki had never expected to command respect of any kind from her fellow Asgardians—even with a future as queen she had always known that she’d exist only in Thor’s shadow—but now, people bowed their heads when she passed.

Loki pulled her on to the dance floor with a twirl, grinning as her dress fanned out around her. Teki giggled.

“Remember the first time you asked me to dance?” she asked suddenly. It seemed eons ago that he had first found her crying on the balcony, and yet somehow it had only been less than a year.

The prince nodded. “I was so nervous,” he confided as he held her closer to him.

Teki laughed incredulously. “You were nervous!”

“I was!” he insisted. “You seemed so sad. I wanted to make you feel better, but I was afraid I was only making things worse.” He paused. “And you were meant for Thor, so I wasn’t certain I’d even be welcome.”

She sighed. That seemed eons ago too—a time where Loki didn’t know her better than she knew herself.

“Well,” she mumbled, cheeks burning. “You’re always welcome.”

He laughed. “Good to know.”

Teki laughed as well, but she hoped he knew how true her words were. She didn’t know what she would have done without Loki these past few months. He had been by her side throughout all the insanity that had followed her mother’s arrest and her stepfather’s demise, whether it was something as grand as testifying before the court that Osvald was killed in self-defense or as simple as sitting next to her at her piano as she played the first few lines of the piece she was composing herself.

He had been with her when she received word that they had found what they believed to be her father’s skeletal remains. Her mother’s confession had included the details of where and how Steinn’s body had been disposed of, down to the gory details that Teki had never wanted to know, how they dismembered him so Osvald could sneak him off world in a rugsack and bury him on Alfheim. Teki’s only attempt to read through the whole thing had ended with her coughing up her breakfast into a chamber pot.

But thanks to Áslaug’s description, they knew where to look, and within a fortnight they found him. Peeling back that blanket to look at her father’s remains had been an experience she couldn’t quite describe. The two felt so disconnected—how could a man so larger than life who she could picture so clearly in her memory be reduced to nothing but a box of dusty bones? For several hours, all she felt was numbness. It wasn’t until late that night that the reality truly struck her. Brant stumbled into her room to find hunched over on her bed, sobbing ferociously into her pillowcase.

They held a funeral for him. It was nothing elaborate, there wasn’t a big production or a huge crowd in attendance, but it was something. Teki didn’t know the next thing about archery, so instead of shooting a flaming arrow, she lit his pyre with a torch before sending it across the water. They probably could’ve gotten a professional archer for it—Loki had offered to shoot it himself—but it had to be her. Teki couldn’t explain it, but it had to be her.

She sighed as her father drifted across the waterfall, across the threshold beyond. It was as if an invisible weight she had carried with her since she was small had floated away as well. He could rest easy now, high in Valhalla. Perhaps she could too.

But there was one thing stopping her from embracing that peace.

Teki followed the guard down through the catacombs of ancient stone, head low. It seemed colder down here, far below the palace. At least, she told herself that’s why she was shivering.

Behind translucent shields of glowing light, prisoners loomed at her as they passed. Teki kept her eyes straight ahead. Based on their biting leers, she got the feeling that they didn’t see a lot of visitors around here.

Her mother sat on the cot in the corner of her cell, picking at her nails. For a moment, Teki almost didn’t recognize her. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, her dress plain and shapeless. She couldn’t recall the last time she had seen her mother without her face painted.

Her eyes had lit up when she noticed Teki lingering on the other side of the ray shield.

“Tekla!” she smiled, her voice hoarse. “I hoped you’d come to see me!”

She wasn’t lying. Áslaug had been sending messages to her daughter through the guards nearly every day since she had been arrested, begging her to pay her a visit.

“You realize you don’t have to do it, right?” Loki had asked her. “You’re not beholden to that woman in any way. If you never want to see her again, you don’t have to.”

Teki knew that. And a part of her would be perfectly content to live out her life without her mother ever being in it. But there was another part that wanted to know what Áslaug could possibly have to say to her.

At first, it didn’t seem like much. “How’s Brant?” she asked after a moment of awkward silence.

“He’s well.” Teki’s voice was stiff. When she first decided to visit her mother, she had told herself she’d be polite. But now, looking at her sitting there pretending as if she had ever given a damn about either of her children, Teki decided she’d settle for civil.

Still, her mother continued on in her bubbly, fake happy voice. “Lovely dress.” She gestured to her emerald gown. “So it’s true then? You’re marrying the other one?”

Teki nodded.

Áslaug breathed a chuckle, shaking her head. “All of that, and you’re not even going to be queen.” She let out a sigh. “I suppose the Norns need a good laugh every now and then.”

“I don’t see anything to laugh about.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Look, I know you hate me,” she paused, as if waiting for Teki to contradict her. Teki only stared ahead in stony silence. She huffed. “I want you to understand, everything I did, I did for you.”

Teki raised her eyebrows. “You killed my father for me?”

“I had to!” Her mother sprung to her feet, leaning as close to the shield as she could without touching it. “Tekla, he didn’t care about your future! We had the chance to make you the most powerful woman in the Nine Realms, and he wanted to let it pass by. Would you be able to forgive me if I hadn’t taken that opportunity?”

“It would have been easier than forgiving you for murdering my father.”

She huffed. “Tekla—”

“What about Osvald?” Teki interrupted. “Did you marry him for me too?”

Her mother sighed. “I didn’t realize what he was like. Had I known—”

“You knew damn well what he was like,” she snapped. “He was willing to kill—”

“For me!” Áslaug pressed her hands to her chest. “He was willing to kill for me. That’s hardly something a woman should pass up.”

“No.” Teki inhaled. Her mother seemed so desperate to convince her, to convince herself that she believed what she was saying. She almost pitied her. “He was willing to kill for what you could give him. He loved you as much as you loved my father.”

Her mother frowned at her. “You’re angry with me now,” she said. “But one day you’ll understand. You’ll wake up and realize that everything you have today, everything you are today, is because of me.”

“You’re wrong,” Teki retorted. “I am what I am today in spite of you, not because.” She let out a shaky breath, motioning towards the guard that she was ready to leave. She met her mother’s glare with a firm stare of her own.

“Goodbye, Mama.” There was nothing else left to say.

The song was changing, morphing from the upbeat strings to the more somber piano solo.

Loki pulled her closer. “Do you want to go to the lake?” he whispered in her ear.

She laughed, cocking her head. “Are you going to push me in?”

“Of course not! Believe me, I learned my lesson with that one.”

“Uh-huh.” Brant was waving at her from the podium. She waved back with a grin. Loki stood beside her, eyebrows raised expectantly. Teki grabbed his hand. “Well, what are you waiting for, my prince? Lead the way!”

This is it, she realized as they scurried through the hallways, giggling like a pair of toddlers.

This is what happiness feels like.