#idk about the others themes that much though

[activesplooger]

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ | ᴠᴏx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴀᴜ | ʜᴀᴢʙɪɴ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ

ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: (MDNI) FUCKING FINALLY THIS SHITS DONE I CAN REST. also there's a scene in this directed towards false healings performed and idk if it seems cringe believe me i know but that shit actually goes on so I thought i should include it

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You're a woman in the 1950s who's aspiring to be a journalist. However, it's hard to enter the workforce as a woman. Your boss presents you with the opportunity of a lifetime to do an undercover expose on a cult in your area! However, as you dive deeper into the church you get more than you bargained for.

ᴄᴡ: religious themes, cults, sexism, manipulation, false "healings", mental breakdown, drugging, dubious consent, penetration, nsfw, and barf

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10,256 (sorry)

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1/2

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴘᴏꜱᴛ!

So the situation's this, it's 1955, and you're trying to make a name for yourself in the journalism industry. You currently work for the New York Times... as a secretary. Though you offer the same— if not better— credentials as the men who write "hard-hitting pieces", you were overlooked, as many women are in the workforce.

Why have you working when you can be a pretty face for everyone to see? It's bullshit, really. However, you were in no position to complain about where your income comes from, so you took the job. Something's gotta pay the rent, even if it killed you to watch everyone doing your dream job. That's supposed to be you working at your passion, not the under-qualified men who make more effort in hitting on you than on their writing.

You're currently perched on your chair, chin in hand, as you stare blankly at the rotary phone, waiting for it to ring. Your bored expression seemed to say "Come over and condescend me!", or at least that's what one douche seemed to think.

A cocky co-worker strides over to your desk, clad in a tacky blue suit and a coffee-stained tie. He stands in front of your desk and chuckles, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Chip a nail?". Taking a deep breath, you restrain yourself from kicking him in the balls (if he even had any), "Just waiting for the phone to ring.". The man rests his elbows on your desk, "C'mon, where's that smile? You'd be so much prettier with one.". You bite the inside of your cheek, restraining your instinct of telling this guy off. Instead, you plaster on a strained smile. "There she is!" he chuckles, walking off to his desk.

As soon as he's out of sight, your smile drops instantly. "Stupid piece of fucking shit... hope he chokes on a fucking cock," you mutter to yourself, letting your anger simmer as you bounce your leg agitatedly.

The whole situation mulls over in your head, how could you allow your life to come to this? Reduced to your gender, working at a job where you're nothing but a pretty face... You wish things were different, but what could you do? Your eyes flicker to the head editor's office door that's practically calling your name.

You know that you're destined for more. What's the worst that could happen if you just ask? So what if they fire you? There are plenty of other secretary positions open anyway. Hesitantly, you get up from your chair and march over to the editor's office, knocking on the door with a shaky hand, "Mr. Anderson, sir?". "Come in," the familiar raspy voice responds.

Straightening out your skirt, you push the door open and smile. "Kitten," he exclaims, "what brings a pretty face like you in here? Dont'cha have phones to attend to?". You shake your head, "No, the line's empty as of now, I actually wanted to talk to you about-". "Talk talk talk, that's all you women do," he states, "that and drain men's wallets!". Mr. Anderson cackles, leaning back in his chair as he laughs himself to tears. "Hah... yeah... funny," you say flatly. "Oh, c'mon, it's just a joke, you women are so sensitive," his laughter dies down, "now, what'd you need to talk about?".

Taking a deep breath, you steal yourself for the moment ahead, this was your chance. Don't blow it. "Well," you begin, "remember when I interviewed here? I originally wanted to work here as a journalist.". The old man nods, leaning forward on his desk and giving you an intimidating look as he stares you dead in the eyes. You swallow nervously, "Y-Yes, well, I wanted to follow up on that.". "On what?". "On my position here at the company as a journalist, not a secretary," you state firmly, standing up straighter as you try not to let his intimidating stare get to you. Mr. Anderson sighs and leans back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, "I don't understand, you're a fine secretary.". "I know," you defend, "but I wanna be more, I know I can be more than this! I went to college and was one the only woman to get accepted into the journalism program!".

Sighing softly, you plead with him, hoping he'll show a shred of humanity, "I can do this, I just need the opportunity.". He groans, "You're a pain in my ass sometimes.". "But," he reaches into a filing cabinet and hands you a file labeled "THE SIGNAL DOMINION", "you're very persistent, and annoyin', so here.". You grab the file, and your face lights up, "Thank you so much, sir! You won't regret this!". "I better not," he says while lighting a cigar. "I want you to write an exposé on a cult run by a man named Vincent Oren Xavier, are you familiar with him?". You shake your head no. "Doesn't matter," he dismisses. "Everything you need to know is in that file. Now I'll need you to go undercover for this, pretend your some type of damsel in distress that's looking for a new church or some crap, I dunno," he huffs out a puff of smoke, causing you to cough and waft the air in front of you.

"Don't be gettin' all high and mighty because I gave ya this piece though," he states while waving his cigar, "I've only given ya this to shut yer trap, got it?". "Yes, sir" you nod, "thank you.". Walking out, you close the door softly behind you and skip happily to your desk. You set the file on your lap, squealing happily as you read the contents.

The gist was that some guy got people to join his cult by luring them in with charms and keeping them there through manipulation. Their leader, Vincent, managed to escape the crimes for his obvious exploitation through some dumb loopholes in the law; what a great country we live in.

After work, you head home and plop onto your bed with a pen and paper, jotting down your plan for the exposé. Your cover would be that of a widow who had just recently lost her husband who's looking to a higher power after such a great loss. You figured you could still be a secretary; just don't mention that it's for the New York Times, that'd definitely blow your cover. For the entire night, you work on your plan, devising every piece of your fake identity to the T.

The morning light shines through your windows, causing you to stir. You lift your head off the notebook you had been jotting on all night and stretch your arms over your head. A smile stretches across your face, today is the start of your new career. Springing out of bed, you rummage in your drawers for the perfect outfit: a dark navy sheath dress that landed just below your knee and black babydoll heels. You styled your hair into classy victory rolls and smudged your makeup around your eyes just a tad to portray the look that you had been crying. After all, you'd just "lost your husband". Who wouldn't be crying?

__

Following the directions in the file led you to the parking lot of a church. In big, bold letters were the words "The Signal Dominion Church of Christ" plastered on the front of the building. The top of the building held a cross and "Christ" was plastered in the name, so you assumed it was based on Christianity in one form or another. You were never really a religious person. However, you did have some background knowledge about it from being dragged to Sunday mass as a child.

Once you walk in, you seem to have caught the end of the service. The large church was littered with people, every seat was filled with some people having to stand. You observe in the back, the whole thing seems so intimidating and bizarre. The service ended with worship, and various repeated phrases stick out to you like "Trust him", only the "him" didn't seem to talk about a God, but rather Vincent. "Trust Vincent" seemed to be a common theme throughout the sermon.

The whole thing sent a shiver through your spine, a bad feeling settling in your stomach. Once the service ends, a lady with a beaming smile approaches you, "Hi!". "Oh hi," you respond softly. "I don't think I've seen you around. Are you new here?" she asks, her smile never faltering even for a second.

"Oh yes, I just wanted to peak in, sorry," you reply shakily. You really hoped she bought your act. The woman chuckles and waves a dismissive hand, "No problem! What brings you here?". "Well, I recently lost my husband from a car accident," you begin, mustering up a few fake tears that reluctantly roll down your cheek, "and it's just been really taxing on me. I've been perusing local churches to hopefully lift that weight off me, and that's how I stumbled here I guess.". "You poor thing," the woman puts a hand over her heart, "I'm sorry to hear that. My name's Evangeline, I'm an elder here at the church.".

"Nice to meet you," you shake her hand gently, "I'm Y/n.". She takes your other hand in hers and holds them softly, confusion crossing your features as she does so, "Well, Y/N, I want to pray for you.". "Oh! Alright, sure"

She prays over you and your situation, ending it with "Amen" and releasing your hands. She looks you softly in the eyes, "How would you like to come to our service next week? I'll save you a seat myself!". "Really? That's so kind, thank you, I'd be happy to" you smile back at her.

You say your goodbyes and head back to your place, taking in what you had learned. Service starts at 8am sharp, and you knew nothing about Vincent.

When you get home, you kick off your heels and sit on your couch with a sigh. You'd barely learnt anything and you couldn't really go undercover for another week.

__

You arrive at work a few hours later, knocking on the editors office before coming in. "What's the scoop?" he asks in his usual hoarse voice. "Well, I didn't learn too much... Seems to be based on trusting the cult leader, and the people seem nice-" you reveal, hoping that he wouldn't blame your lack of evidence on your gender.

Mr. Anderson sighs, "Look, Kitten, since it's your first time doing something like this I'm not gonna yell at'cha. But listen up, if you wanna go undercover, you've gotta be a little persistent. Do a bit of digging rather than sittin' on yer ass and waiting for the oppurtunity to present itself!". "Im sorry, but-".

"No "buts"," he interrupts, "now get back to your desk and work. "Oh about that, do I have a different desk now or?" you ask. "Kitten, this project stays between you and I. Any writin' gets done on your own time. You're still a secretary after all; However, if you do good on this assignment I'll consider hirin' you full time," he explains. You nod and thank him for his time before exiting, walking back to your secretary's desk disheartened.

You slump in your chair with a sigh, eyes fixed on your lap. The cocky coworker from yesterday strides up to your desk, "Hey! Where's that sm-". Snapping your head up, you interrupt him with a glare, "Ask about my smile one more time I swear to God.". He scoffs at you and walks off muttering, "Sheesh, is it that time of the month?". You drag a hand down your face and sign.

__

The next week slowly rolls by, filled with monotonous work and vague research you found from other news articles and stories. But today, maybe you could finally get somewhere.

You put on your Sunday best, a blue pinstripe dress paired with tan stockings and short white pump heels. With the help of curlers and a ton of gel, you fashion your hair into cute pin up curls that framed your face just right.

Once you finish prettying yourself up, you grab your keys and head out of your apartment.

__

You arrive at church early today, making sure you get a good seat for today's service. As you walk in, you see the room already bustling with people eager to get a seat. In the corner of your eyes, you see Evangeline waving her arms and patting the seat beside her. Upon walking up to her, she greets you with a big hug, eliciting an "oomph" from you at the sudden embrace. "I'm so happy you came!" she squeals excitedly. "Yeah, of course, thanks for saving me a spot," you reply. She lets go and leads you to your seats.

As you sit down, she turns to you with a grin, "Today's supposed to be a great message!". "Oh yeah?" you say, turning to her, "what's it about?". "Letting go of your earthly bonds and submitting to Him!". Your eyebrow raises, "Him?" Who's-". She cuts you off by pointing up towards the sky. "Ah, you meant God, right sorry," you reply with a slight chuckle.

"Oh, I almost forgot to mention, Father Vox won't be preaching today, unfortunately," she mentions with a slight frown. 'Vox?' you think to yourself, you hadn't heard any mention of a Vox before. You thought Vincent was the head honcho here, wouldn't the cult leader usually preach? "Who's Vox?" you ask quietly.

"Oh! He's the best," she gushes, "he's the head preacher around here. He opened my eyes to the lies I was once forced to concede to.". Tilting your head, you furrow your eyebrows and speak in a confused tone, "The lies?". Evangeline nods, "Yup, he taught me the meaning of life. If it weren't for him, I would still be in contact with my oppressors!". "Your... oppressors?". "Mhm," she affirms, "my so-called family and friends all held me back from my true purpose.". A chill went down your spine. Your look of horror is met with Evangeline's placid expression, how could she be so calm? Doesn't she know she's being manipulated? "I'm sorry, what-" you're cut off by Evangeline shushing you. "It's starting!" she says with a wide grin.

Three altar servers walk down the aisle holding large candles, one wafting incense across the pews. Following behind them is a man dressed in white vestments. The sacred white robes feature intricate gold patterns sewn into the stole that loosely drapes over the priest's shoulders.

Once the priest approaches the altar. He lifts his arms up in the air and everyone stands up from their seat. You follow suit and stand up a bit delayed from everyone else. The altar servers set down the candles and sit on a wooden bench behind the altar. Looking up from the large bible on the podium, the mass commences, "The lord be with you.". "And with your spirit," the room responds simultaneously. You try to keep up with all the sayings, constantly falling behind at all the responsorials and prayers. Shit, you really wished you paid attention in mass when you were younger.

After countless prayers and songs, you're finally allowed to sit. The priest smiles and crosses his heart, "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. Amen.". The members mutter an "amen" in response.

The priest walks in front of the aisle and claps his hands together with a big smile, "How are we doing, everyone? As you can tell, Father Vox couldn't join us today, he's taking a day to be reverent with God. I'll be stepping in his place for today, some of you may know me as John, but today I'll be known as Father John.".

Father John starts off the homily with a routine message, love God and all that crap, it's the end of the sermon that seemed to rub you the wrong way. The priest paces down the pews, each step impassioned as he preaches, "And therefore I ask you, the people of the signal dominion, to follow your shepherd. Let him guide you in a guide-less world full of corruption and sin.".

Once again, the "him" mentioned seemed almost sinister. It didn't feel like they were talking about God, but perhaps Vincent- or maybe that Vox that Evangeline was talking about. As your mind races, the priest starts to shout, "Has he not done enough for us?!". "No!" the congregation calls out, some people clapping and cheering. "So then, why do we run astray? Why do we avoid his divine enlightenment?! Look at all he's done for us, he saved you from suffering!".

You look around at the people in the pews, eyes fixed in admiration at the speaker, not even a hint of skepticism on their expression. How did they not question what was happening to them?! A pit grows in your stomach, almost feeling angry at these people.

Father John stops yelling and makes his way back to the pew. Lifting his arms up, the people stand. "Let us pray," he calmly commands, his tone a stark contrast to his frustrated yell. He leads the church in a penitential prayer, which, again, you didn't know. The people recite, "Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.". Each "fault" is punctuated with a fist banged against one's chest. The practice, though not inherently sinister, leaves you feeling tense and guilty; the pit in your stomach starts to grow.

"I'd now like to call upon the Elders of the church to come forward and offer prayer to those who need it," people emerge from the pews and walk to the front of the church. Evangeline turns to you, "I'll be up there if you need me.".

Without Evangeline, you didn't have an in with the church. You felt out of place, not sure what to do as people pass you by to receive prayer. Taking a breath, you calm down and mutter quietly to yourself, "Be persistent, y/n.".

You walk out of your row and walk up to Evangeline, her ever-present bright smile plastered on her face. She takes your hands in hers, "I'm so glad you're here. What would you like to talk about.". "Well," you begin, racking your mind for what to say when suddenly, an idea pops up, "I was really hoping to be saved- like you were! By that guy you were talking about-". Evangeline tilts her head, "You mean Father Vox?". You nod, eliciting a thoughtful look on her face. "He is taking time to be with God today... but, m-maybe if I told him your testimony he would meet with you!". "You think so?" you ask hopefully, excitement filling the pit in your stomach. This could be your chance.

Evangeline nods frantically and takes both your hands in hers, "Let us pray. Dear God,-".

__

After the sermon, Evangeline led you upstairs to a sector of the church where only church officials and clergy were allowed. She approaches a door labeled "Father Vox" in big gold letters. "Wait here," she gestures towards a chair beside the door. Evangeline knocks on the door. "Come in," a deep voice responds.

The door clicks shut, leaving you alone in the creepy church corridor. You can hear the faint sound of an organ playing a hymn from downstairs, along with the ticking of the grandfather clock beside you. The room is cold, freezing almost- creating a tense atmosphere in the supposedly "welcoming church".

You fixate your gaze on your lap, tapping your feet incessantly on the group as you wait. Time passes slowly as you wait, focusing on fidgeting with your hands to occupy yourself.

Finally, the door swings open and Evangeline walks out. She holds the door open for you with a soft smile, "Father Vox would like to see you.". "O-oh! Great!" you get up from your seat and nod at her while walking in.

__

Seated at the desk is a handsome man with black hair and separate eye colors; one eye color being blue and the other being brown. A white scar streaks down across his blue eye going from his eyebrow to his cheekbone. He's dressed in navy blue vestments with red patterns sewn into the stole, similar to the patterns on Father John's.

You take a seat across from him, a tight-lipped grin stretching across your face to match his charming smile. On his desk are books labeled "T.S.D Bible," along with other religious paraphernalia. Perched front and center in a name placard displaying the words, "Father Vincent Oren Xavier - Head priest".

The pieces start to click together in your head. Vincent Oren Xavier, V,O, X - That must be the Vox Evangeline was talking about! Your snapped out of your thoughts as he speaks.

"Well, you must be the famous y/n I've been hearing about!" he finally says, his voice booming and upbeat. "That's me," you squeak out.

"Elder Evangeline told me all about your story, I'm so sorry to hear that, my dear," though expressing his sympathy, his smile remains unwavering. "It's fine, it led me here so-". "And we're happy to welcome you with open arms!" he exclaims with a chuckle.

You knit your hands together in your lap anxiously, "-Actually, I had a few questions.". "Oh?" he raises an eyebrow, "by all means, go ahead.".

"Well, Father," you begin, "what does this church believe exactly?". "My dear, we here at Signal Dominion are our sector of Christianity. Are you familiar with Christianity?". You nod, "I was raised Catholic.". "And as of lately?" he raises an eyebrow. "Not so much," you admit.

He nods and hums in acknowledgment softly, "No worries, we accept all that are willing to join.". "Good, good... What exactly makes this church different from a Christian church?". His smile seems to grow at your question, his tone full of confidence as he answers, "The Signal Dominion is special, the other denominations have lost their way, been too lax on God's plan for humanity.".

You lean forward in your chair, "And that plan is?". "To be saved, of course!" he grins. "Right, right," you exhale softly, "and how do you get saved?".

"Follow the church, and you'll see," Father Vox extends his hands to you, gesturing for you to hold them. You reach out and take his surprisingly soft and large hands in yours. "We can save you here, my child," he squeezes your hands, "you won't have to feel this dread upon you any longer. Don't go back to your old life, once you join the church, it's the first day of your eternal life, free of sin and grief.".

"Okay," you reply softly, hiding your internal excitement at the prospect of getting more info. Vox prays over you, eyes fixed shut as he asks God to "take away your grief"- as if grieving was an inherently bad thing. Vox commences the prayer with an "amen" and opens his eyes, gazing at you softly, "Come to our Wednesday night mass, I think you'll find it empowering.". "Oh, alright- I'd love to," you reply softly.

His hands linger for a moment before pulling away, "I'll see you Wednesday then.". You smile and nod goodbye before exiting his office.

Shutting the door behind you, you lean against it, breathing heavily as a smile stretches across your face. You did it, you're in.

__

The following days were spent working as a secretary by day and a journalist by night. Lately, your normal job didn't seem as horrible as before. You showed a renewed interest in life; every guy who would be sexist toward you was met with a smile and a nod. All you needed was the comforting notion that one day, they'd work with you. You felt comforted as you imagined the looks of horror on their smug faces as they realized that you're gonna work with them. All that good karma was coming back to you.

Currently, you're getting ready for Wednesday night mass. You fashioned your hair into loose, brushed-out waves that draped elegantly over your shoulders paired with a modest white shirtwaist dress. Once ready, you leave your apartment and head to the church.

When you walk in, you see the church booming with people. The congregation is dancing and singing as people play music on stage, a huge difference from the reverent mass you saw just a few days ago. In the crowd of people, you spot Evangeline singing and clapping in the front row of pews.

You walk up to her and wave, "Good to see you!". She greets you with a big hug, "Father Vox told me everything! Welcome to the signal dominion!". You smile at her enthusiasm, "Thanks for getting me a talk with him, I owe it all to you, honestly.". She shakes her head, "It's not me, it's you. Father Vox chose you specifically, you're special.". You open your mouth to speak but are cut off by everyone cheering as they turn their attention to the center aisle.

Father Vox jogs down the aisle, no altar servers present in front of him. This seemed to be a way more casual sermon than the "usual" Sunday mass. He goes up to the podium and speaks into the mic, "Welcome, my children, take a seat.". The people scatter into the pews excitedly and wait expectantly for Vox to speak.

He crosses his heart, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Peace be with you.". "And with your spirit!" the room calls out cheerfully. "I'd like to start tonight's service by giving a hand to our amazing worship team!" he gestures his arms out wide to the small band exiting the stage. The church erupts in cheering with the whole congregation clapping and shouting praise.

Vox holds his hands up, and suddenly, the room quiets, "Tonight, we have an important sermon –one about taking a leap of faith, and putting your whole being into the Church. Let us pray.". He leads the church in the Nicene Creed, his deep charismatic voice carrying through the whole building.

"Amen."

He takes the microphone stick in hand and carries it with him as he walks down the pews, "You know, I was talking to God yesterday-" some people cheer at that, eliciting a wider smile from Vox. His expression flattens, and he turns more serious, "And he told me how distraught he was.". The people murmur sorrowfully, some looking down at the ground with guilt as if it was their fault.

Walking up, he gets close to the pews and starts to speak in people's faces, "I am trying to lead humanity to salvation, and all I see is neglect and evil in this world... even from some people in this community.". A few people get spiteful looks from other members; it was as if Vox is trying to pit the people against each other. Have others hold each other accountable for their "wrong doings".

Vox walks back to the podium and sets the microphone down, dragging his hands down his face to dramatically express his despondency. The sermon felt like a performance, almost theatrical in the way Vox was acting. He takes his hands off his face and sighs,

"As some of you may know, I didn't preach on Sunday. I was in despair, so much so that I couldn't preach-". The congregation gasps and murmurs. "Then suddenly, God appeared and said, "My son, you will guide these people!" he starts to yell, pointing aggressively at the crowd, "You will lead these sheep to pasture for you are there sheperd!".

The room claps and cheers, increasingly encouraging him to keep ranting, "Don't let yourself be ruled by fear, that's the devil talking! I was lifted up by the Lord! And now you will be too!". He points at an elderly woman in a wheelchair, a woman you hadn't seen before at past sermons, "You there! I command you, with the power of the Lord to STAND UP!".

The lady struggles, insisting she can't do it. "I SAID STAND UP!" he commands, throwing his arms up to motion her out of her chair. You watch in horror as this wheelchair-bound woman is forced out of her chair. After struggling, the lady springs out of her chair and walks around with a celebratory lap around the pews.

The room is filled with shouting praise and cheer, people rising from their seats and crying with joy. You stay sitting, your body frozen as you try to comprehend what the fuck you just saw. Obviously, it was bullshit, but seeing all these people getting roped further into Vox's lies made you want to puke. The once excited feeling of going undercover gets replaced with dread. How could you treat these poor people like a story? Shouldn't you be helping them?!

Your stomach starts to ache at the sight. While people around you rejoice in the "miracle" that happened before their eyes, you sit there, staring blankly ahead of you.

__

The sermon lasted hours. Vox would go on rants about how the church is under attack and we must fight back against them. You found yourself nodding off only to be woken by Vox yelling.

The sermon finally concluded, and people quickly shuffled out of the building. You were a bit delayed in your movements, grabbing your purse drowsily and slowly walking out of the pews. A hand grabs at your shoulder. You turn around and see Evangeline with a tired smile on her face, "Father Vox would like to talk to you in his office.". Great. Sighing softly, you force a polite smile and nod, "Thanks.".

__

The stairs creak as you walk up the spiral staircase to Vox's office, the already tense atmosphere becoming even creepier at night. You're instantly waken up by the freezing temperature. You quickly jog to his office and knock hastily, not wanting to wait a second longer in the corridor.

"Come in, my dear."

You push the door open to reveal the dark office illuminated by candles on Vox's desk. His handsome features still displayed even in the dim light of the room, "Have a seat.". Taking a seat across from him, he gazes at you for a moment, studying your features. Exhaling softly, he speaks, "God was telling me about you.". You raise an eyebrow, "He... He was?".

He smiles softly, "He told me you're special... you're different from everyone else. I think you will do great here.". "I hope so," you smile wearily back at him. You really couldn't even bear to look at him anymore. Part of you wanted to scream in his face cry all at once, but what good would that do? He knows what he's doing is wrong, he doesn't need someone telling him what he already knows.

Vox tilts his head at you, "I hope we didn't scare you off with tonight's service.". Your eyes widen, "No, no-". He chuckles and holds up a hand to cut you off, "It's okay, don't lie. I understand how a healing service can be a bit intimidating for new members.". "It's okay, it was just... unexpected," you admit reluctantly.

Vox chuckles softly, "I bet. I know it all seems confusing and scary right now, but trust the church. Trust me, y/n. I think you can make it very high here in the church, maybe even an elder.". Whooo whoopdy doo you get to be an elder!!! You plaster on a fake smile, "I'd be honored.".

Rising from his seat, Vox walks over to behind your chair and places his hands firmly on your shoulders. He leans down and whispers softly, his voice smooth and charismatic, "I know right now everything seems chaotic, but it will all be over soon. You'll be safe here.". His words send a shiver to your spine, the "reassuring" words almost sounding threatening.

He releases you from his firm hold, and you exchange goodbyes, eager to get home after a long day. Kicking off your heels, you collapse onto your bed. You don't bother with writing tonight, that can wait for another day. For now, you let yourself debrief and rest. It's been a long day.

__

"Better," your boss states flatly, tossing your report back on his desk. "That- That's it?" you ask, frustrated, all that work for "better"? Mr. Anderson shrugs, "Look, it's a fine report. But we're not looking for "fine." Here, let's put it this way... How did you feel when you saw what was happening to these people?". You tilt your head as you respond, "I felt... distraught and devastated and-". Your boss cuts you off. "Exactly!" he exclaims, poking your report as he speaks, "then show that in your writing. When I read this I feel nothing, it's just facts laid out in front of me. Put the reader in your shoes, I want you to make them feel like they're seeing what you're seeing.".

"How do I-" you squeak out before getting interrupted once more

"Sheesh, woman!" he groans, "Do I have to give you everything? Just- Here, go deeper. You said that this "Vox" guy said sum about "climbing ranks"?". You nod affirmatively. "Expand on that," he encourages, "climb the ranks, get the story. Got it?". You held your questions and feebly grab your report, "Yes, sir.".

__

You've really had to step it up. For the past few services, you've attended every single one, from the calm Sunday service to the bizarre Wednesday night ones. But, you hadn't really made any progress with diving deeper into the church as your boss suggested. Outside of sermons, you hadn't personally seen Vox since your eerie chat with him in his office. You thought you had a leg up when he called you "special," though looking back, that's probably what he says to everyone who joins the church.

This morning, you really were gonna step up your ass-kissing game to the church. You arrive an hour early to the Sunday service, dressed all prim and proper in a wine-red sheath dress. For the first time you've ever seen it, the church was completely empty. The once-packed pews are now completely devoid of any life, and yet, you had a strange feeling you weren't alone...

You ignore the strange feeling of eyes on you and approach the altar. Slowly, you kneel before it and get into a prayer position, eyes furrowed shut as you firmly clasp your hands together against your forehead. Just for good measure, you mutter "please God" under your breath every now and again. You felt a bit silly doing this, almost like a child playing pretend.

For about half an hour you knelt there, hoping your faux devotion would catch the eye of the higher ranks. Just as your knees were starting to give out, a large hand gently grabs hold of your shoulder, "Come with me.".

You open your eyes and see Vox standing behind you, a subtle smile across his sharp features. He offers a hand to you and helps you to your feet. Without another word, he swiftly turns and guides you upstairs to his office.

Once upstairs, he opens the door for you and gestures a hand out for you to walk in. The two of you take a seat, Vox smiles softly, "Don't think your actions have gone unnoticed, my dear.". Your heart rate quickens. Were you found out? "I've noticed your devotion, and so have the others.". You exhale softly, relieved that this wasn't some sort of shake-down. Tilting your head, you fake confusion, "My devotion?".

"Yes, the elders and I have noticed your piety towards the church. Out of all the members in the church, your efforts stand out," he chuckles softly and reaches into his desk, "I meant what I said when I called you 'special'.". Vox lifts his hand from the desk, a pretty gold beaded rosary necklace hangs off his index finger. You lean forward to get a better look at the jewelry, "What's that for?". "You," he gestures the necklace toward you, "to show my appreciation, you've become a model member of the church."

Taking the rosary from him, you marvel at the dainty intricacies of the necklace. It was real gold, from what you could tell, and not just plated either. Gold beads were strung along the dainty chain, and the apex held a pendant with the initials "T.S.D", a beaded chain hanging down from it. At the bottom of the chain hung a diamond-encrusted cross, the crystal shining brightly in the dim room. How did Vox have the money for this? Surely being head of a "church" couldn't make that much money, right? Whatever the reason was, you shouldn't accept gifts from a corrupt person paid with money from God knows where.

Your fingers run over the expensive jewelry, "I really can't accept this.". Vox tilts his head to the side, "Why not?". "Because its uhm," your hands clutch the necklace in your hand, you whisper under your breath, "really fucking expensive.". Snapping your head up to look at him with wide eyes, "Shit I mean- Wait sorry again- It's just-". Vox raises his eyebrows and chuckles, "No worries, you're forgiven."

Getting up from his desk, Vox strides over to you, gently releasing the necklace from your grasp, "Don't worry, the church paid for it. Besides, this isn't about money, think of it as a "thank-you" gift.". His hands brush your hair to the side and deftly clasp the necklace around your neck from behind. He moves back in front of you and clasps his hands together, "Lovely."

Glancing at the clock, Vox excuses himself to get ready for the sermon and you leave shortly after for the service.

__

A few weeks have passed since your surprise gift, and ever since then, Vox has kept an eye on you. There would be moments when his eyes would meet yours during a sermon, almost as if he was speaking directly to you. Part of you hated how much you liked the attention, Vox was the only man in your life who treated you decent, even if he was using you to further his agenda and grow his cult. The other part of you was terrified by it.

With all the close attention to you, you have to be extra careful to not let your true intentions slip. One mistake, and it's over for you. No career, and hell, Vox would probably kill you to keep that story from coming out.

It's currently Saturday night, you had gone to bed early for the morning service and were sound asleep. The loud trill of your home phone wakes you in a panic. You snap up into a sitting position and exhale softly after realizing that it wasn't some type of alarm.

After stretching, you hop out of bed and walk to the kitchen as the phone blares, "Jesus Christ, shut up...". Grabbing the phone off the wall, you pick up the phone and speak gravelly, "Hello?".

"Good morning!" a familiar voice responds, "I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time.". "Uh, I'm sorry, who is this?" you question, leaning against the wall to support your exhausted body. "This is Vox," he responds. Oh shit! You perk up instantly and hold the phone closer to you, "Oh! Vox! Uh, good morning... h-how'd you get this number?". "Anywho," he ignores with a cheerful tone, "I just wanted to call and let you know about tomorrow's sermon.".

Pushing off the wall, you pace in a small circle around your kitchen, "What about tomorrow's sermon?". "I just wanna make sure you'll be there, I can count on you, right?". "Yeah, of course-" the cord yanks you back softly as it stretches to its max. "ow fuck-" you mutter. "What was that?" the voice asks. "Nothing! Uh, I'll see you tomorrow, bye!" you stammer out, slapping your palm to your forehead in embarrassment.

The phone clicks in its spot on the wall and you cover your face in exhaustion and mortification at your slip-up. You really had to work on your cussing if you were gonna sell this whole "widowed church girl" persona. Whatever that's tomorrow's problem, you're too delirious to function right now.

__

After a pathetic night's rest of tossing and turning, you wake up and head to church. Sitting in the center front pew, you save a spot for Evangeline. You've grown quite fond of her over the past few months, and although she was a little church-crazy, she's been nothing but welcoming to you. Evangeline skips over to you with a wide grin, "Y/N!". "Hey!" you greet her with a hug and chat a bit before the sermon begins.

The lights dim as the mass starts, candles illuminating the walkway as the altar servers walk to the altar. Vox follows behind them, his hands folded in a prayer position. His eyes meet yours, giving you a soft smile. Your lips subconsciously twitch up into a grin as you see him. You snap your head back up to the stage once you realize what you were doing, no time for making eyes at a literal fucking cult leader. Sure, he's attractive, but he's a psychopath! 'get it together, y/n,' you say to yourself.

Vox approaches the podium and goes over the routine responsibilities and creeds. "Good morning," he says into the mic, his voice booming through the large church. "Good morning," the congregation responds. "Today is a special sermon," he begins, "many of you have such courageous testimonies of how you entered the church! And some of you have so graciously offered to share your stories today-". People start exiting the pews and lining up on the stage. Vox smiles and gestures one of them up to the pew. The woman smiles softly as he speaks into the podium's microphone, "I first found out about the church when...".

__

The testimonies droned on for about an hour. Each testimony, though intended to ignite a fire in your faith, made your stomach churn. Hearing about these people who once had great lives, leaving them in a time of darkness, cutting everyone off, all for the hope of having a purpose in the church. A tear trickled down your cheek as you listened to people fall deeper into the cult. If only they knew their "salvation" would be their downfall.

As the last person wrapped up their story, the congregation erupted in applause and cheer. Vox retakes the stage and speaks into the mic, "Thank you, everyone, for those beautiful stories... and I'd like to invite one more person, a new member, to share their story.". He gestures a hand out to you in the crowd, your face turning white. Fuck. Why wouldn't he ask you about this first? You already are mortified by public speaking, it's gonna take everything in you not to accidentally expose yourself.

Shakily, you arise from your seat, eliciting light applause from around you. Once you reach the podium, you clear your throat nervously, "H-Hi everyone.". Evangeline smiles proudly and gives you a thumbs up. You smile back at her and continue, "M-My story started when uhm my husband died. It was a really dark time for me and I just wanted to have hope again.". Fidgeting with your hands, you glance at Vox who gives you a condescending smile.

Standing up straighter, you speak more confidently into the microphone, "And then I found this church, and I was scared... really scared. But with the help of a lot of you here, I really found a purpose again. Thank you for everything, I'm glad I'm here.". You quickly exit the stage and plop in your seat. Evangeline immediately showers you in praise while you stare at the floor in mortification. __

The service goes on for another half hour or so. You're eager to leave, quickly getting up and grabbing your things once Vox ends the sermon. You just wanted to go home, relax, and take a bath- You've pushed yourself hard the past few weeks, maybe it's time to take a break from the story for a little bit.

And just as you're about to leave, a firm hand grasps your shoulder. "My dear, come with me for a moment," the familiar voice rings in your ear. Fuck! You sigh and oblige, not wanting to rouse any suspicion. Who knows what he would do if you denied him.

He leads you down the corridor and into his office, the door shutting behind you with a loud creek. You both sit down, Vox staring at you with his piercing multicolored eyes, "Your testimony was beautiful, dear.". You huff quietly to yourself, "Yeah, it was just- unexpected.". He chuckles, "Ah, I see, not a big public speaker?". You shake your head no. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he says somewhat apologetically.

Noticing your harsh stare as opposed to your usual submissive one, Vox sighs softly. "Here," he grabs a bottle and two glasses out of his desk and pops it open. He poured some of what looked like champagne into your glass and handed it to you. "Is this booze?" you raise an eyebrow. He flips the bottle over to reveal the "Sparkling Cider" Label. "Pft, oh," you chuckle softly and pick up the glass.

You clink your glasses together. "Cheers," he says, his rich voice sounding a bit husky. You take a sip, unaware of Vox's intent gaze on you as you drink the beverage. His gaze drifts to your necklace as you wipe the foam from the drink off your lips, "I see you're still wearing the necklace I gave you. I take it you like it?". "Oh, yeah," your hands move up to fidget with the cross pendant, "It's really nice, thanks again by the way.".

"No need to thank me," he states, laughing softly as his gaze wanders over your features, "It looks beautiful, my dear.". "Oh- Thank you," you try to cover the unwanted blush spreading across your face.

He sets the bottle down and rests his elbows on the desk, "You know, I think I owe you my testimony now that you shared yours.". You tilt your head, "Your testimony?".

He nods, "I didn't come from a good home. My father was- very abusive. And so was my mother. CPS must've investigated my parents a dozen times, but, they never convicted them of anything. Just chalked it up to parental punishment and me being a sensitive kid.".

Your eyebrows furrow in a sympathetic expression, "I had no idea I-". He cuts you off, "No, no, don't be sorry. That isn't the part I want you to focus on.". Vox leans closer over the desk, "Things only got worse as I got older. My parents were broke and only became more abusive over time...".

He gets up from his chair with an excited grin and walks over to you. "But then, God appeared to me and said, "Vincent, my son, I have bigger plans for you than this! Go forth and spread the good news!". And so I did! I took my old man's car and ventured out here, where I started the church.".

As he wraps up his testimony he looks at you excitedly, almost as if he is seeking approval like it was some kind of performance that he did. You flipped your cringe into a surprised grin, "Wow that's- that's incredible!". Taking another sip, you groan internally as he keeps going on about the "Son of God" bullshit.

__

As time goes on, you start to feel funny. Time didn't feel as though it were passing, but as you glance at the clock you realize that hours had passed. Vox’s voice starts to sound like he’s talking underwater, your main focus being the loud ringing in your ear.

You wince and cover your ears. Vox smiles, “Everything okay?”. “Ya its just hot in here,” you speech starts to slur, suddenly feeling a bit more free and loose lipped, “I wan leave but I also don’t… I dunno…”.

He chuckles softly, “Oh is that so?.”. “Yaa… I think imma just take a nappp,” you slump against the chair and close your eyes. The last thing you hear before passing out is a soft “perfect” whispered in your ear.

__

Your eyes flutter open, catching glimpses of the scene before you. Vox was driving you somewhere while you sat limp against the seat. You couldn’t move or talk very well, only being able to function through sight; it almost like being in a state of sleep paralysis. “Voxxx?” you mumble out. He pulls into a driveway and parks the car. “Hey there, doll,” he coos, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Where are we goin’?”. Vox unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out of the car. He opens the door and carries you out of the vehicle, “My house, you passed out. I just wanna keep an eye on you and make sure your okay.”. “mffkayyy,” you lean against his arm as he carries you inside.

The house before you is rather large with beautiful foliage out in the front that was well kept. Modern furniture decorated the lavish house with at least 3 TVs just in the downstairs area. “ ‘S a big house. Hows it so big I thought priests were poor,” you say absentmindedly.

He chuckles softly as he carries you up the grandiose staircase, “The people donate to the church to pay me.”. You scoff, “Pfftt, donate what? Half their fuckkinn’ salary.”.

“Language,” he reminds sternly, “and yes.”. He carries you into a large master bedroom, the same lavish furniture with crosses riddled all over the walls. “You can lay here,” he sets you down on the soft mattress. “Thanks Vox urr nicer than I thought you’d be,” you smile at him.

Stepping out of his shoes, Vox crawls onto the bed with you and sits beside you. His soft large hands reach out to cradle your face. Sleepily you lean into his touch. “Mmmm,” you hum into his palm.

His hands snake down from your face to your waist and hoist you onto his lap. Your neck is eagerly peppered with kisses, hands sliding up your dress and onto your bare thighs. For a moment, you lean into his touch, “Vox… Mmph.“.

While one hand massages your thighs, the other works to unzip your dress. The cold contact of metal onto your skin briefly brings you back to your senses, “Vox, wait, no- We can’t-.”.

“Shh,” he continues undressing you, “don’t worry, let me make you feel good.”. You feel too weak to stop him, eventually just giving into his actions. The dress slips down your shoulders and is slid off your body. He quickly discards his priest garments and other clothing on the floor.

Grabbing a thigh in each hand, Vox spreads your legs and hovers over you. His thick veiny cock presses up against his stomach, pre cum leaking from his tip down his shaft.

He slowly enters your dripping pussy, “Ah… There we go.”. “Mmph~ Oh god-,” you moan out, your vision getting a bit hazy. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to accommodate for his size.

After a minute he rolls his hips into you, establishing a steady rhythm. You stare blankly at the ceiling, only partly focused on the pleasure winding up in your core. Every now and again you’ll moan softly as you watch the room spin. You flicker in and out of consciousness, unaware of how much time has passed or how long Vox has been going.

Grunts escape his throat as he pistons into you, his pace become more erratic as he got closer to orgasm. You were close too, your hips weakly bucking into his. “Thats it,” he says breathlessly, looking you in your glazed over eyes. His hips start to slam into yours, sending waves of pleasure over you as you came.

Your a bit overstimulated as he continues chasing his own relief, drawing out whimpers and moans from you. “Hnnf, Hnnnff~,” His hips start to stutter until he finally fills you up with his seed. Once Vox pulls out you feel the cum dripping out of you.

Releasing his grip on your thighs, he lays down on the bed and pulls you into a spooning position. The last thing you feel before you succumb to sleep is the kiss Vox presses into your hair.

__

The next morning, you wake up around 10 with a pounding headache. Blinking your eyes open, you sit up abruptly. You were at home. “Vox?” you call out. No response. A hand shakily drags down your face, “F-Fuck… What have I done…?”. The weight of the situation sets in, mortification settling in your stomach.

Nausea washes over you and you quickly run out of bed to the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet you throw up. You remembered being sick last night, you remembered everything from last night.

On the floor of your bathroom, you hug your knees and bury your face in your hands. You just had sex with a cult leader… Sobbing softly, you mutter to yourself, “I can’t do this anymore…”.

You wipe your tears and march to your type writer where you hastily finish that god forsaken story. Every last detail was thrown in, well, except for last nights events…

You don’t care if it has a billion spelling mistakes, you just want this to finally be over. Even if some part of you liked Vox, you’d never admit it. You could never be with him.

Throwing on whatever clothes you had out, you grab the freshly typed papers and sprint to your car.

__

The doors of the NYT office building fling open as you burst through them. “Woah,” a coworker comments, “what’s got you so-.”. You cut him off, “Go fuck yourself.”. Fuck that, fuck him. You’re not taking that crap anymore. The worker stands there in embarrassment and shock. He scoffs and mutters something as he retreats to his desk.

You march into Mr. Johnsons office and hold the papers up in the air, “It’s done!”. Mr. Johnson covers the receiver of the rotary phone, “Hold on-“. “Please!” you plead, wanting this to be done and over. He ignores you. No, you demand to be taken seriously for once. You walk closer to his desk and snatch the phone from him and place it down to end the call. “Y/N!” he yells, “you can’t just-!”. “Mr. Johnson just please read it over!” you beg.

He groans, “Fine!”. He snatches the papers out of your hands and reads over the report for a few minutes. Once he’s done, he hands them back to you, “Great, thanks.”. He gets back to work after dismissing you.

“I-Is that all?” you ask, “what about my future here at the company?”. “Listen doll,” he slides the papers he was working on aside for a moment, “you have a future at the company as a secretary.”. “What?! I worked for mo-“. “Frankly I don’t care,” he interrupts coldly, “this was just something to keep you occupied so you’d stop bitching!”.

“Why would you promise me a job then?!” you defend, tears welling up in your eyes. Mr. Johnson sighs, “Jesus- It’s company policy not to hire women anyway! And look at you, you completed one story and you look a mess! Your cryin’, snappin’ at employees, and you look wrecked. Why have that when a man can easily complete a job without all this drama? Now get out!”.

“But I-“

“Out!”

Clutching the papers in your hands, you begrudgingly walk out of the office. You hear the whispering and light laughter of the employees as you walk out. Tears flow down your cheeks, walking faster until you out of sight from the ridicule.

Once your outside you lean against the wall of the building and sob into your hands. You shake as you let everything out. All of that, for nothing. You felt like nothing, a nobody. You look at the papers in your hands, the words angering you and causing you to rip them to shreds. People pass by you, but you ignore the stares at your public breakdown.

You pull a pack of cigarettes out of your purse and light one. You shakily inhale, and exhale the somewhat soothing smoke. “Oh God,” you whisper, burying your face in your hands.

__

You sit in your car for awhile, not sure where to go. Should you go home? No, you don’t want to just sit their and be sad. Your friends wouldn’t understand, you hadn’t even spoken to them since you started this project. You start the car, and as if your hands had a mind of their own, you mindlessly drive to Vox’s estate.

You weren’t exactly sure how you remembered to get their, but suddenly, you were in front of the large estate once again. As you hop out of the car, your legs almost seem to turn to jelly as they wobble and shake. Wobbly approaching the door, you ring the loud doorbell.

The grandiose door swings open, revealing Vox in more casual wear then you’d previously seen, “Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you know where-“. You cut him off, “I-I remembered from yesterday, somehow…”. His face turns pale at the mention of yesterdays events, “Wait you remember- Nevermind, why are you here?”. You sniffle, tears flowing down your face once more, “I didn’t know where else to go.”.

“Shh shh, hey,” he pulls you into a hug, ”what’s wrong?”.

__

Vox had you settled onto settled against him on the couch. You told him everything that happened. He nods slowly as you finish your story, “I see… Those report papers are shredded right.”. “Yeah,” you sniffle, “I tore them up…I’m sorry.”.

“It’s okay, you’re forgiven,” he coos, “but why’d you come here?”. You shrug, "I didn't have anyone else to go to...". He nods and pulls you closer against him, "It's okay, you're here now. You're safe, trust me.".

"So, what now?" you ask softly, "are you gonna have me actually join the church now?". He chuckles softly, "Doll, you've already been in the church for a long time now. You just need to recommit your faith".

__

You had stayed with Vox for the past few weeks, listening to his guidance on how to live a happy and virtuous life. And it was working, you were happy. At first, you doubted everything. I mean this was surely a cult, right? Vox assured you that it wasn't, saying that "if your boss lied to you about your job as well, then why doubt that he lied to you about this being a "cult"?". He had a good point, and since then, you became a true follower of the church.

Vox had you cut off everyone, telling you that they were holding you back from your true potential. You believed him, they were holding you back.

The next few services had a whole new meaning for you, instead of judging them from an analytical perspective, you really engrossed yourself in the message. Vox was happy with your newfound piety, and planned to make you an elder of the church.

__

Becoming an elder requires a "swearing-in" ceremony in front of everyone. You were incredibly nervous, feeling sick to your stomach. Vox drove you to the church and felt your anxious energy, "Don't worry, my dear, everything will be fine.". You clutch your stomach, the car making you even more nauseous, "Vox I don't feel good...".

"It's just nerves, you'll be just fine," he softly reassures you, "let's pray on it, hm? Dear God,-".

__

You clutch Vox's hand tightly as he guides you onto the stage, the congregation eagerly watching as you become an elder. All 5 of the other elders in the church were on the stage as well. Evangeline smiles proudly as Vox prepares to make you an Elder of the Church, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She mouths, 'I'm so proud' to you as you approach the bible labeled "T.S.D". Vox has you put one hand over the bible and the other in the air. He speaks into the mic, "She will now recite the Elder oath.".

You must've recited it a hundred times before coming here to make sure to nail it, but you were preoccupied with the growing nausea you felt. As you recite the oath, you look awfully sick, your face pale and your body swaying slightly. "I, Y/N L/N, swear to adhere to the Church and fully commit myself to the church and Vox. If I fail to do this then- BLECH". Your nausea suddenly took over, the church watching in horror as you barf all over the fucking bible.

The whole church is silent, in shock over the situation. Vox's mouth is agape and his eyes are wide, not understanding what the fuck just happened. You didn't really understand either, all you did know was that if you didn't get out of there quick you'd throw up on it for a second time.

You dart to the nearest bathroom and barf into the sink. This definitely wasn't just nerves.

End

__

TAG LIST:

@rlini0914 , @charryflavoredblood , @ithopi0s

@electronicexpertshark , @diffidentphantom ,

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-

its finally done! (tho there will for sure be a part two, but it def won't be as long).

this my Christmas gift to you guys so yayyy

if u enjoyed pls affirm me i worked hard ok bye

this shit is barely edited by the way so bye

[truthdawn]

the atsv soundtrack got me acting freaky fr /j

[problemswithbooks]

On Stella (Helluva Boss)

The fandom fights a lot over Stella and how she's written. Fans who like the way she is presented say it's fine that she's a one-dimensional 'evil queen' trope. It's not bad writing that she's so shallow and one note--some villains are better that way.

That isn't an inherently wrong statement. Some of the most fun villains are shallow, evil, for evil's sake types. Unfortunately, I don't think Stella works as this type of villain for a multitude of reasons.

Reason 1: Stella's 'evil' trait is at odds with the themes of the show.

Stella's primary evil trait is that she's cruel to Stolas simply because she likes being cruel to him. She's abusive and hates him. That, by itself isn't the problem. The problem is that the story isn't about Stolas being in an abusive relationship--it's primarily about two people from two different classes, and how they have to become better people and change in order to have the loving relationship they both want.

Yes, Stolas being in a past abusive relationship could be a hurtle to his growth as a character and him being in a relationship with Blitz, but the show never goes there even when it could. Stolas is not shown as being triggered by Blitz's yelling at him. In Apology Tour he has no issues fighting back and telling Blitz off, ordering him to leave. Blitz's yelling and more aggressive attitude isn't what leads to their misunderstandings, where Blitz accidentally hurts Stolas by reminding him of Stella's abuse.

Instead, Stella's abuse isn't even touched on in any major way, and does nothing to move the plot forward or cause connected drama between the two leads. Yes, she hires Striker to kill Stolas and that does at times cause problems, but she didn't need to be abusive inorder to explain why she'd want Stolas dead. In a world where assassins and murder is around every corner, it'd make just as much sense for Stella to hire Striker because Stolas cheated, and it made her a laughingstock among her high class friends.

I'd even argue her abuse makes the story make less sense. We know, from Stolas's own admission, that once his daughter was born, their marriage wasn't necessary. He claims he stayed to give Octavia a normal life, but if Stella is as volatile as she's shown, why would he think Via being around her was a good idea? If Stella had been less outwardly antagonistic and instead more cold and standoffish, with the both of them having mostly separate lives, intersected by polite, if strained family interactions when around Via, then him staying would make sense.

One of the reasons I think more people wanted Stella to be a caring mother to Octavia was because it explains why her and Stolas were still married despite her constant abuse towards him. If Stella cared about Via, and they were close, Stolas would be not only reluctant to leave but to let their false pretense of 'happy couple' slip in front of Via, since both would hurt her. It also would make Octavia's choice to stay with Stella and her anger at Stolas hold more weight, and give Via more complicated emotions. She'd really love her mom, but be confronted with the fact she hurt her father, who she also loves. As it is, it's pretty clear to see that as soon as Octavia finds out Stella is pure evil, she'll easily go back to Stolas with very little if any internal conflict.

Reason 2: Vivziepop claims she's not a one-dimensional character.

A really huge issue with Stella being presented as a one note bitch, is because the creator herself claims she's not. In an interview, Vivzie says Stella is like Beatrice Horseman from BoJack Horseman, saying that at some point we will see things from her perspective.

The problem with this is that Stella has already been portrayed too negatively and flat for this to work. Beatrice worked because, while yes she was awful to Bojkack, she also had Alzheimer's which gained her some sympathy points, as did the way Hollyhock cared for her. She also wasn't always over the top horrible to Bojack, being more passive-aggressive and neglectful.

On top of that, despite her abuse toward BoJack, particularly when he was growing up, she wasn't framed as the reason for all of BoJack's issues. He was still responsible for his own shitty actions as an adult, and when he retaliated toward her, like tossing the baby doll off the balcony, it was framed as shitty behavior. More than anything, their interactions said more about BoJack than Beatrice. Him trying to hurt her, by throwing away her baby doll or putting her in the shittiest nursing home he could find was to show how BoJack wishes he could retaliate against his mother for all the things she did to him, but it leaves him feeling hollow because he knows that due to her disease she's not aware of who he is. It's meaningless, doesn't help him get any closure.

Stella is not presented as anything other than over the top abusive in every scene she's in. Nothing in the show suggests she's anything besides violent, even going so far as having her choking dogs in a childhood picture. Nor is Stolas's treatment of her supposed to reflect on him or characterize him. The only time it might is when he ignores Via because he's too caught up fighting with on the phone, but again, it's not given much focus and he doesn't reflect on it. The same goes for the cheating--yes, Stella was abusive and he doesn't necessarily owe her anything, but Stolas refuses to acknowledge that what he did clearly upset Stella, both times he talks about it asserting that he knows he didn't hurt her. No, they weren't in love, but cheating is still degrading, and Stella is obviously upset. Frankly, I think it would have made more sense for Stolas to rub that fact in her face--he has no issue insulting her, as we see later in that conversation. Instead, his continued assurance that he didn't hurt her or do anything wrong feels like the writers talking through the character, afraid watchers will judge Stolas to harshly otherwise.

Stella getting the Beatrice treatment will likely fail because there is nothing to soften the audience toward her even a little. She has been presented as Stolas's tormentor and nothing else. There are flashes of possible sympathy for her when she interacts with her brother, but for the most part they're framed as Andre being right and Stella being stupid, rather than Stella possibly being manipulated and used by her brother.

It also will fall flat because unless her background is another showcase of how even the upper class are hurt by the system, and this leads to something either story or character wise for the main cast, then there is no point to bring it up. The point of Beatrice's story was to show how generational trauma seeps down into the next generation. BoJack doesn't even have to know about it for it to reflect on his character and explain why he is the way he is. He and his mother parallel each other, where they start out as innocent children but through their parents mistakes, they grow up into cynical, bitter adults who both feel as if they've wasted their lives.

Reason 3: To many villains.

Stella has taken a backseat in her own villain story to her brother, who, just like Stella, is simply evil (he's even characterized as a catty bitch, just like she is, except less of a yeller). It's true Andre wants power, whereas Stella wants...well nothing really, just Stolas dead I guess, but for the most part they are nearly the same. Andre is just a better written version of Stella since he actually gets to make plans and have an end goal.

Once Andre gets introduced, Stella is redundant because she offers nothing different and in fact offers less to the story overall. If Stella was going to be a flat, evil for evil’s sake villain, she and Andre should have been combined. It would have made far more sense to have Stella be a bit smarter and be the one plotting to get Stolas's power. It also would have made the court scenes more impactful because Stella would be a character that was established far earlier, and who we know is a major threat to Stolas, since she's the one that hired Striker to torture and kill him.

If Andre was going to be the main big bad for Stolas, then Stella needed to offer something different. Generally the underling under the main villain is more sympathetic, and less evil, as a way to showcase how much worse the main bad guy is. Or they're more charismatic and show up far more than the main bad guy, like Azula and Ozai. As it is, Stella is neither. She shows up just as little as her brother, and does far less.

And, while Vivzie is a woman herself, I do find the handling of Stella to have mysoginistic undertones, mainly that since her brother has shown up, she is constantly shown as stupid, and that her only good quality is her looks--things her brother constantly brings up, but are not framed as shitty on his part. Them being essentually the same charater make this look all the worse, since Andre, as I've said, didn't need to be a charater at all, and Stella could have been the main villain instead. To pretty much sideline a female charater in order to introduce a male charater that fills the same roll is not the best. Just like racisuim, sexisuim doesn't have to be done purposfly, and I don't blame anyone who finds this choice to be sexist.

Then there's Striker.

Another reason I think Stella and Andre should have been combined. Striker worked really well as the side antagonist under the main villain. He's the one we see more of, he's more charismatic and has hints of a generally interesting backstory, one that we know would fit into the theme the show has of class issues. He's a mirror of what Blitz could have turned into, while Stella could be presented as Stolas's opposite. Even their work relationship could be a dark mirror of Blitz and Stolas's real love for one another.

As it is, Striker is under two other villains, one of which has become essentially unless to the story (Stella can't do anything Andre can't at this point, especially since her and Via aren't shown to have a close relationship). This reduces his threat level and reduced his screen time since he now has to share it with another character. We can see this in the newest episode, where we get a scene where Andre is talking to Stella and then Striker appears later at the trial with no explanation. If Andre and Stella were combined, that scene could have been Stella going over the plan with Striker instead. This would have helped Striker's character, since as it is, his appearance at the trial is confusing. Maybe he's just out for himself and his selfishness won out over his hate of Royals, maybe he was blackmailed, maybe he was so furious and his pride wounded so much by Blitz he'd do anything to bring him down, maybe it's a combination of all three. We don't know because we aren't given the set up. Is it cool that Striker was a suprise? Sure, but in this case it wasn't worth not showing the charater's reason for doing something that seems to go agasint his own charaterization.

Reson 4: Threat.

One of the main reasons to have a simply evil villain is so the can be incredibly menicing. The Aundence doesn't have to feel anything but fear for the protagonists and hate for the villain. They pose no deep moral question, and it feels great when they're beaten.

Despite being a major villain we never see her threat felt by the protagonists. Take her abuse of Stolas. We see her go to hit him and he catches her hand easily and tells her off without issue. Stolas has no problem standing up to Stella ever. In The entire show Stolas is never portayed as afraid of Stella.

Contrast this with how Moxxie and Crimson interact. Yes, sometimes Moxxie does stand up to his father, but we are shown how terrified he is of Crimson multiple times during the one episonde they interact. In comparison Stella's actions never make Stolas even worried. The most we see is him doging things when she throws things at him, but he doesn't seem genuinly afraid, and it's forgoten as soon as she leaves.

He insults her over the phine, insults her to her face. When he learns she hired Striker we arent shown him suddenly relize he underestimated her and become afraid. He instead he's more conserned with his reletionship with Blitz and getting him a crystal. Stolas never tells Blitz about Stella, so we don't even know how Blitz feels about how she treated him.

It's hard for a pure eveil villain to work when only one charater even seems to know they exist and they aren't even worried about offending them. The only way this could work is if Stella pretended to be nice most of the time, but was secretly ploting, like Scar in the Lion King. Instead she's framed as this force of nature, pure bitch, who torments Stolas, yet Stolas doesn't even show anxiaty when having to meet with her, something we know he's prone too because he shuts himself in the refrigerator when contemplating his confession to Blitz ending badly.

If the writers want Stella to be evil--make her evil. Let her be powerful and scary. Have Stolas fintch at her voice, show flashbacks of her hitting him, let her win arguments and verbally tear Stolas down. Make her smart enough to plan things on her own.

I think when alot of people say Stella is a badly written charater it's not nessesarily because they wanted her to be good, or complex. I don't see alot of people angry at how Mother Gothel was written (besides her deisgn being anti-semetic) or Maleficent. It's possible to write evil, one-dimensional female villains. The issue is that even as an evil bitch, Stella falls short in a mutitupe of ways. Her charater is a complete waste, even more so now that her brother has been introduced. She has no reason to exist and serves no narritive purpose. Even as a raod block to the Stolas/Blitz ship she isn't nessesaey because their main issue is the class systum. Stella could have been dead before the show started, leaving Stolas with Via for drama, and Andre could be the evil uncle trying to get Stolas's power.

Stella is pretty much a sexy lamp, execpt the sexy lamp is also a bitch. She's less affective then the random bitch charaters introduced in romatic webtoon comics that are only there to be mean to the main charater and try to steal her man. Stella's not badly written because she's pure evil and simple, she's badly written because she doesn't serve a purpose in the story and could be replaced with a sexy, evil lamp.

[averlym]

"bad decisions, that's alright; look, i'm still alive"

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than functionally no rares

Made some Duskmourn cards and also thought about the upcoming set currently known as "Death Race" and got in a vehicle mood

[technicolorxsn]

love how there are pretentious video essays that just repeat the book and meander and ramble about house of leaves. it's what zampanó would have wanted. it is not, however, what I want

[leafy-m]

My stupid story is 20k now how I do make it stop 😵

[tleeaves]

Reclining on a fainting couch, hands laced together and resting over my stomach as I stare up at the ceiling. Why the fuck do I so frequently end up caught between being attracted to mean guys (and gals) but also the wife material guys? Duality of man is falling for both all the time, apparently, and never knowing which I actually genuinely like better.

I wrote out a whole theory about why I like mean people before I realised the logic no longer applied to my current circumstances/character and now I'm back at square one. Perhaps the real answer is as lame as: because I like a challenge and the idea that someone treats me Extra Special compared to how they treat others.

At the end of the day, idk.

[boysborntodie]

When I say the greasers would be prejudiced, I mean they grew up and live in an environment and time period where stereotypes, ideas, propaganda, etc, were more common than today (also they still are common, to the point I don’t think there’s anyone without them to some degree) and exploring those ideas as how they culminate and manifest and how the greasers can unlearn them is much better than erasing these very real concepts and themes within the Outsiders itself as well as the era, thus doing a disservice to both.

[moe-broey]

Demonstration...

You still can't see shit LMFAOOOOOOO but Solo Style (noise cancellers, SECURED)

The Vest........ another thing about it is that it's very seasonal as well, it is So Toasty.... so, unfortunately, not super suitable for everyday regardless of circumstance wear. Another factor as to why I haven't "done" anything with it, punk custom-wise. It's just not intended for that! Plus it's beautifully hand crafted!!! I may add some tiny trinkets to the safety pins with jump rings. That's as much as I can see myself doing, here. (The pins, are a lifesaver... literally the biggest issue I had w this was how the collar fit 😭 Something you just Don't Know until you wear a piece of clothing at least three times.)

Back to the jacket though, I also really like how it falls here. It almost looks dress-like, in the front... in a super androgynous way... And the way the bottom pockets are fully accessible under the vest. Very cool!

I CAN WEAR THIS!!!!!!!! I CAN WEAR THIS‼️‼️‼️‼️ I'M SO UNBELIEVABLY EXCITED TO HAVE SOMETHING I CAN WEAR THIS WITH!!!!!!!!!! I WILL layer this on top of my first-run jacket in the winter and it is. So Stupid LMFAOOOO (how I've got So Many protruding details in the back on that one...... VERY COOL was super fun to make But. Hhhgnhh)

I still get so much euphoria wearing this particular coat though like. Yeesss..... vanishing into the cozy shapeless void of dark blue flannel. Like if a blanket was a coat. It's AWESOME..... and it pairs SO WELL w the jacket. I just. Have to Make Sure. As I customize it. That it still pairs well with the coat LMFAOOOOO

Which is!!!! What I meant by "punk jacket you could sleep in". That is my design philosophy going into this......... Somehow. Honestly don't know how I'm gonna combine coziness with Spikes And Shit but. Fucking. Watch Me. I fucking guess!!!!!! 🫡

[hecksupremechips]

Girl like. The reason he said "this is how it should be" and faced death with a smile....is cuz he wanted to die. For 2 years he sat there thinking he was worthless and deserved to die. If he hadn’t be shot, his death would’ve been suicide, he was fully planning to die in a gutter somewhere undetected. When saying "this is how it should be" hes literally saying "don’t cry because I’m dying, my death is a good thing actually because I fucking suck and you are better off without me". I don’t think that’s badass even slightly, it’s actually really sad and really shitty. Shinjiro is so convinced that he deserves to die and hates the idea of anyone giving a shit about him because he literally can’t wrap his mind around the idea that he will be missed when he’s gone, that his death is a bad thing actually. And his last words were meant to be comforting because he fully did not intend for anyone to be there when he died, he intended to die alone, so he says them as a reminder that he’s not worth crying over

Personally, if it were me, if I was holding my dying best friend in my arms who was deeply depressed and suicidal and he said "this is how it should be" uh. I wouldn’t admire him for it??? Like am I losing my mind when I say the way this game handles Shinji is bad or is anyone else seeing this too 😰

[kellystar321]

.

[llatimeria]

Just finished The Santaroga Barrier by Frank Herbert (my dad likes to play audiobooks in the car on trips) and I didn't like it much (and there's quite a bit of Yikes in it, because frank herbert and the 1960s in general,) but the aspect I found most interesting was the concept of like. A world's subconscious desire to kill The Other.

In the book an investigator visits a small cultish town in order to investigate it for a market study after a few other researchers mysteriously died. he gets into a frightening number of "accidents" while he's there (like the former investigators) and starts believing that there was a conspiracy among the townsfolk and all of them were intentionally trying to murder him.

tl;dr, it turns out it actually was a subconscious yet intense phobia/hatred they had of The Outside they had as part of their personal traumas, childhood indoctrination into their local cult, and the LSD-like drug they were constantly on. They didn't mean the investigator any harm, if anything they were extremely welcoming, kind, well-meaning people, but this background radiation of fear and rage kept making them accidentally do things to kill him - mixing up insecticide and spices in his food, gas fumes being pumped in his hotel room after a botched maintenance job, a torn carpet tripping him off the railing of the balcony, and Many Other subtle attempts on his life that he just happened to avoid by sheer chance.

But all the townsfolk don't really think anything of it - the town doctor, especially skeptical, "diagnoses" him as "accident-prone" until the investigator begs and pleads with him for days after several brutal accidents in a row, and only then does the doctor start believing him but even then only comes up with the theory that all of this supposed malice towards the investigator is "subconscious" - later shown to likely be correct when the investigator himself, after overdosing on their special drug, "accidentally" shoves his colleague off a roof, killing him, but the investigator physically cannot see it as anything but an accident anymore. it simply doesn't reach his mind that he killed a former friend of his. it was just an accident. he just fell, all on his own.

the idea of A Town That Wants To Kill You, But It's Nothing Personal resonated with me from the perspective of being a disabled person, especially one in a generally welcoming, accepting environment. when you're disabled, not a lot of people will come to you bearing their ableism between their teeth. They'll be nice, insensitive maybe, but nice, and are often outwardly willing to accomodate you. But they also stick out their leg as you're walking along to trip you. They'll apologize, and you'll maybe even believe it, even though to you, from your perspective, it was obviously an attempt to harm you. You excuse it once, maybe twice, but after a point, you realize that this world, this community you have entered, is actively hostile towards you and everyone like you. so you start screaming it to the rooftops. you tell authorities that the world wants to hurt you, but they begin affixing labels to you like "paranoid" or "anxious". they know no one actually has it out for you, personally, after all. that would be ridiculous.

but you still keep getting tripped down the stairs. the rat poison and the sugar at your favorite coffee shop still keep getting mixed up, but only when it's your order. in the hospital, recovering from your previous "accidents", a nurse will still accidentally pump you full of saline instead of medicine.

after a point, doesn't the fact that all of these are "accidents", and that no one WANTS to kill you, just... stop mattering a little bit? Yeah, no one wants to hurt you, but they just keep doing it. They keep making stupid little mistakes. They know everyone like you who has visited their community has died or been seriously injured under suspicious circumstances, but the idea that they, themselves, could be a little bit at fault just doesn't even register to them. they don't even consider that they might have to change their ways in order to protect people like you. After all, you can't prepare for every "freak accident". Even when the solution could be as simple as "stop putting rat poison next to the sugar", every time it happens to you, or a person like you, it's just an "accident", that no one "meant" any harm, and "nothing could be done".

it doesn't cross their mind that a string of unfortunate accidents ceases to be accidents, but serious negligence. it can't cross their mind, because they're not the victims here. they only even begin to acknowledge something might be wrong when the victims are screaming in their face, day after day. even then, they come to the conclusion that even if you're right, and the community does want to kill you because you are Other, they won't immediately see anything wrong with that. To Them, the answer is clear as day: just become one of Them, and you'll be safe. They take care of their own.

[antihibikase-archive]

Reference sheet for my cringefail gym leadersona, Radish! They are literally me, but I wanted to make them their own person..

I named them Radish because I remembered that a bunch of Pokemon gym leaders (the Sword and Shield ones, plus the Striaton triplets) were all named after crops and fruits, and radishes are common in the Philippines, so. :)

They don’t have a hidden dark side or a sad backstory or even that big plot involvement, I imagine; I think it was funnier to leave them as Just A Guy who is somewhat confused that the league does not give them allowance to give to trainers who beat them. 😭 That, and they’re still disheveled over paperwork regarding their proper gym, so in the meantime, they’re battling in a food court at a mall..

[nightowlfury]

just gonna document some of the themes my brain latched onto in the thk playlist bc i have nothing better to do👍

i didnt listen to all the songs bc i dont like some of the mainstream pop stuff but i looked at most of the lyrics and this is what my brain's noticed at least. could be reading into things too much bc i love to do that but shrug. if it turns out to have relevance thatd b cool.

also i left out the betrayal/heartbreak/"love as a game" metaphor stuff bc like. that's pretty obvious and i don't care to focus on it lol. additionally, i found a few of the thai songs' translations, but others im not sure about so those aren't included obviously

Jealousy

Relevant lyrics:

That Thing You Do! by The Wonders

- "'cause it hurts me so just to see you go / around with someone new"

ขี้หึง by Silly Fools (translation)

the whole song basically, it's literally called 'jealous' - "smile at me, i'm just a little jealous, just waiting for love" - "and i don't distrust you, my heart's anxious if anyone looks at you" - "(i'm like this) i'm like this with love, but i might be too jealous" - "if anyone makes my heart unsure, would you feel jealous and envious too?"

Lay All Your Love On Me by ABBA

- "i wasn't jealous before we met / now, every woman i see is a potential threat" - "don't go sharing your devotion"

Marriage [likely not thematically relevant]

Relevant lyrics:

Time to Pretend by MGMT

- "let's...find some models for wives" - "the models will have children, we'll get a divorce / we'll find some more models, everything must run its course"

You're Gonna Live Forever in Me by John Mayer

- "and when the pastor asks the pews / for reasons he can't marry you / i'll keep my word in my seat"

You Never Can Tell by Chuck Berry

THIS SONG WAS USED IN THE PULP FICTION DANCE so i dont think its relevant outside of that anymore - "it was a teenage wedding and the old folks wished them well" - "and now the young monsieur and madame have rung the chapel bell" - "it was there where pierre was wedded to the lovely mademoiselle"

Escape/starting over

Relevant lyrics:

Time to Pretend by MGMT

- "i'll move to paris, shoot some heroin and fuck with the stars" - "love must be forgotten, life can always start up anew"

California - Tchad Blake Mix by Phantom Planet

- "right back where we started from" - "we've been on the run, driving in the sun"

This Love by Maroon 5

- "whispered goodbye as she got on a plane / never to return again"

Island In The Sun by Weezer

- "we'll run away together / we'll spend some time forever / we'll never feel bad anymore"

Smooth (feat. Rob Thomas) by Santana

- "and if you say, 'this life ain't good enough' / i'd give you my world to lift you up / i could change my life to better suit your mood"

Agency/control (lack of)

Drive by Incubus

- "and i, i can't help but ask myself / how much i'll let the fear take the wheel and steer / it's driven me before, and it seems to have a vague / haunting mass appeal / but lately, i'm beginning to find that i / should be the one behind the wheel" - "so if i decide to waiver my / chance to be one of the hive"

Bitter Sweet Symphony by The Verve

- "i'll take you down the only road i've ever been down" - "no change, i can change, i can change, i can change / but i'm here in my mould, i am here in my mould" -> "i can't change my mould, no, no, no, no, no" - "i need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah" - "(i just can't change my violence, melody, and violence...)" (? not 100% sure these are accurate lyrics, but i think they're right)

You Don't Own Me by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts

this whole song pretty much - "you don't own me / i'm not just one of your many toys" - "and don't tell me what to do / don't tell me what to say" - "don't try to change me in any way" - "don't tie me down 'cause i'll never stay" - "i don't tell you what to say / i don't tell you what to do / so just let me be myself" - "i'm free and i love to be free / to live my life the way i want / to say and do whatever i please"

This Love by Maroon 5

- "the chaos that controlled my mind" - "and i have no choice, 'cause i won't say goodbye anymore"

Crazy by Aerosmith

- "that kinda loving turns a man to a slave"

Island In The Sun by Weezer

- "and it makes me feel so fine / i can't control my brain"

The past/memory

Relevant lyrics:

คนของเธอ by Maew Jirasak (translation)

- "you don't need to ask me about the past" - "but i have past mistakes" - "i don't want you to ask, it doesn't concern us / it's not a memory of us" - "we still can't return to yesterday, and we still don't know tomorrow" - "regardless of who you used to be or what has happened" - "there's no need to ask me about the past"

ยังไงก็รักเธอ by Chat Chaichat (translation)

- "screw the past, forget it, it's not worth remembering" - "don't get upset, screw whoever says anything, pretty soon you won't remember"

ขอบใจจริง ๆ by Y not 7 (translation)

- "in the end, we separated / and left behind only memories" - "make me remember my costly* lesson" (*translation said 'expensive', but i think this might be what's being implied)

Island In The Sun by Weezer

- "you don't need no memory / just a place to call your own"

Time to Pretend by MGMT

- "love must be forgotten, life can always start up anew"

Specific character connections:

Bison

he's the one i made the most connections to, maybe bc they're the most blatant or maybe bc i just am just bound to pay attention to him. the theme that i think connects to him most is agency/control. i also have a suspicion the jealousy theme is related to him as well, but there's not really any evidence of that as of yet.

with the agency and control, it's pretty clear already that this is one of bison's main struggles in life. he desperately wants to live his own life and feels pressure from both his brother and his mother, but also from his own nature/life circumstance ("mould"). i personally think Bitter Sweet Symphony in the playlist probably directly relates to bison based on the things i've noticed:

"the only road i've ever been down" -> references how bison's life is reduced to and has never strayed from its singular path/purpose (one which was forced on him and he didn't have the power to change)

"no change, i can change, i can change, i can change / but i'm here in my mould, i am here in my mould" -> references bison's struggles with wanting a new life (change) but not being able to achieve it, especially with regards to the fact that he's been 'moulded' into who he is. nevertheless, he believes in the possibility ("i can change")

"but i'm a million different people from one day to the next" -> maybe a bit of a stretch, but this line made me think about bison's interview, where he talks about trying "a hundred" different professions. the line fits well with the idea that bison has to constantly be "different people" in his er, line of work

"i can't change my mould" -> juxtaposition with earlier "i can change", indicating that while bison wants to change his life, he'll never be able to change where he comes from

"well, i've never prayed, but tonight i'm on my knees" -> heavy, heavy religious symbolism with bison which we have already seen oodles of, so it's not much of a stretch to connect this lyric to him. it's interesting to me though, because the line is "i've never prayed", while from the imagery we've seen it would imply that bison is (and has been) religious. i don't know if it's this deep, but maybe it's something like bison being raised religious but not fully believing it/having some sort of resentment of it. but im probably just reading into it too much there. interesting to think about though

"i need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me" -> is it a stretch to connect this line to bison's penchant for pain play? probably but that's where my mind goes nevertheless

"but the airwaves are clean and there's nobody singing to me now" -> makes me think of kant's inevitable betrayal and how that's going to leave bison. but i dont think that's actually intentionally related, just my own thoughts

"(i just can't change my violence, melody, and violence)" -> well, "can't change my violence" is pretty obvious, because yeah, part of bison's struggle is that he can't change the violence he carries with him, even if he manages to change his life he can't change his past, his mould, his 'violence'

some of these lyrics could also apply to fadel, but i think his attitude about it is much different from bison's and this song paints a picture that fits bison's perspective much more — at least for the moment.

i think You Don't Own Me could also be related to bison, but i'm not sure if it's supposed to just be related to bison. but i'll focus on him for the moment. the whole song is about a lack of agency and control, which we know bison is frustrated by. the rejection of being controlled that's central to the song reminds me a lot of bison's rebellious attitude. what i'm not sure about is who the song might be implying is trying to control him — his mother, maybe? fadel? kant, even? all three of them? i'm interested to see how things develop with lilly (fadel + bison's mother), what their relationship actually looks like. so far i havent noticed anything particularly resentful in bison's attitude toward her, but then again she hasn't actually shown up in the show yet, and bison's been sort of dismissive when she's brought up (e.g. khun mae comment from kant). he seems to defer to fadel in terms of communication with her — he wants fadel to ask her for things on his behalf, so i have a feeling he's not got the best relationship with her.

i think Drive by Incubus could have elements relating to bison, because that song focuses a lot on agency. e.g. "i should be the one behind the wheel" could very well apply to him. however, i think the 'fear taking the wheel' thing doesn't necessarily fit him, so...

Kant

like...i don't really know why i first thought of kant when i heard Drive. maybe bc of the stills of him in his car or smth. but now my brain Associates the song with him — maybe it makes sense, maybe not, but here's my thoughts anyway

i honestly rly like the song bc of the 'driving' metaphor. it's about motivations, what's driving you. in this case, it's fear. i do think this is super relevant to kant. he also struggles with agency, in a similar way that bison does — his past ties him down. he's being used as a tool by someone with power over him. but for him, fear is a much more defining factor of this relationship. while bison might hold a bit of fear, it's not what's driving him.

kant is being driven by fear. specifically, fear of being taken away from his brother, who needs him. their parents are dead, babe doesn't have anyone else to lean on. the captain threatens kant with jail time if he doesn't cooperate, and that would ruin babe's life. so kant has to do what he says even if there's "technically" a choice

so one of kant's main struggles is the fear that 'takes the wheel and steers'. the line "it's driven me before" could relate to the past job(s) he was coerced into by the captain, or even perhaps something else in his past (can't help but wonder why he would steal that car initially — surely he's not the kind of person to do that without a reason?)

"but lately, i'm beginning to find that i / should be the one behind the wheel" -> perhaps this could connect to the inevitable change kant will go through, when somehow he decides that he can't work for the captain anymore, that he needs to be in charge of his own life. i don't pretend to know how that will play out, but it's a thought.

(also, didn't notice until just now but the line "i feel the fear of / uncertainty stinging clear" is rly cool given the name of kant's tattoo studio (inksting) and his back tattoo (beware my sting))

something that doesn't immediately connect to kant about this song in my mind are the lyrics that relate to mass opinion. but i'll get into that in a bit, i'll finish with my kant thoughts first.

there are songs about the past/relationships too that i think apply to kant, e.g. คนของเธอ by Maew Jirasak:

i think marriage is also related to kant but isnt necessarily a full theme from the playlist. kant specifically for obvious reasons (mystery wife listed on his info sheet). Time to Pretend mentions wives and even children and divorce, although i'm not entirely convinced that isn't a coincidence given the rest of the song is pretty applicable to other themes. additionally, You're Gonna Live Forever mentions a wedding, but i can't quite make sense of that one since it seems to imply a person is in love with someone who's actively getting married to someone else. but maybe im taking that too literally. You Never Can Tell is specifically about a wedding so i was suspicious, but i recently found out it was the song used in the pulp fiction dance they imitated in ep 2. so...idk. maybe kants wife was a typo. my one fear

- "you don't need to ask me about the past / you don't have to tell me who you used to be with / if i get careless and happen to ask you / you don't have to answer me" - "i don't want you to ask, it doesn't concern us / it's not a memory of us" - "regardless of who you used to be or what has happened / don't be worried, this is your someone"

i think this could relate to kant's past and his current (or future, i guess) relationship with bison. there's also ยังไงก็รักเธอ by Chat Chaichat which i think could perhaps relate to the same event/circumstance. my mind is sort of pinning these past/memory themes to kant specifially because of the unknowns, probably, but i do think his past is much more important than we know right now. so i suppose we'll see.

kant could connect to other songs too, e.g. You Don't Own Me with regards to the captain, but i'm less inclined to focus on those because i think they relate to other characters more. i don't have many specific things to say about it, but i will mention that i think the jealousy theme might relate to kant. im not quite sure how though (his wife showing back up???¿), so im just going to wait and see with that one.

Fadel

ok now, remember that thing about Drive having lyrics relating to mass opinion? in my mind, i think that might relate to fadel a little. we've already seen in just two episodes (but mainly this last one) that he is very conscious of public opinion and perception. he has to be, really, with his profession and everything, but he's much more concerned about it than carefree bison. that's why i think these lyrics might relate to him:

"it seems to have a vague / haunting mass appeal"

"so if i decide to waiver my / chance to be one of the hive"

"and it seems to be the way / that everyone else gets around"

in a way, fadel is somewhat driven by fear, like kant. i think he's less conscious of it, maybe, and it's coupled with other motivations, but fadel is afraid. of slipping up, of not being able to protect bison, of disappointing their mother maybe, etc. fadel's fear drives him to put extra effort into 'laying low' — we saw it when he scolded bison for wearing bright colors, and it's pretty obvious after the second episode: he's polite with strangers at the market, is frustrated when attention is drawn to him, etc. so i think public opinion is something that is very much at the forefront of fadel's mind, which is why this part of Drive reminds me of him.

the agency/control themes also apply to fadel bc of his shared situation with bison. i don't have much to say other than that, but it's interesting to me how central this theme is to the story as a whole.

i think the escape/starting over themes could relate to pretty much any/all of the characters, but bison and fadel specifically given their life situations. bison's more motivated to pursue that escape, but i think fadel very much craves it as well. and kant too, even, wants to escape his past, has done his best to do so but can't seem to fully succeed. i hope they all do eventually 💪

Dunk

dunk confuses me. i feel like i know the least about him, which is maybe true given we have some idea of the backstories of the three other characters. but dunk is like... an enigma to me. i have 0 clue what his past is like, so i can't necessarily connect him to these themes atm.

but it's interesting to me, because he very much seems like the odd one out in comparison to the other characters. from what we've seen so far, dunk has the most agency out of any of them. kant's being a bit deceptive/manipulative with him, sure, but he still willingly made the choice to pursue fadel for his own benefit, and could logically call the deal off at any point.

he works under his father at the auto shop, but we don't really know much about that. i suppose you might be able to connect that to the themes somewhat — his dad tells him not to listen to music, tries to exert this (light) form of control over him, and dunk takes no heed of it. he does what he wants. it juxtaposes fadel a lot, who holds himself back at every turn. dunk's using his prolific agency to taunt fadel, who has none. interesting flirtation strategy there. but it's very interesting.

that's the only theme here that i can imagine connecting to him at the moment — the same agency that's represented in the other characters, but flipped on its head. if bison, fadel, and kant represent a lack of agency, dunk represents an abundance of it. at least so far. which i do think will play a part in his er, wooing of fadel, who craves that agency even if he pretends not to.

we'll see. idk. atm dunk feels a lot more two-dimensional than the other characters so i hope he gets a little more development.

overall very intrigued by the themes in the playlist and how they (will) bleed through in the show. also curious about which songs are actually gonna be in the show diegetically/non-diegetically (though so far สุดสุดไปเลย and คิดอะไรอยู่ have been diegetic, so i expect we'll see more of that)

[0fps]

idk if anyone plays reverse 1999 here but i might upload the "journey in the rain" album in a hot sec