#[ mf ] ── * 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄. { we saved us. }

[meatriarchived]

im totally normal-

but also, me an hour ago: yeah yknow the next alias is very like cute sweet housewife / friendly neighbor / church-goer-vibes who bakes you cute breads and cakes and shit and greets you and chats when you bump into her, coos and dotes over your kids, etc etc steals your husbands / wives without really trying to

me now: well all of this is Very True but also its probably the alias & persona most influenced by Spooky Mother in addition to johnny and theres some warped unhinged religious demonic worship and sacrificial undertones now in the mix and is probably marias most polarized persona at being sweet to victims faces and absolutely fucking unhinged when she's got them alone actually ripping into and di.semboweling them while they're still vaguely conscious and aware of whats happening but also shes likely learned some tricks from nancy at this point and they are are being induced by the maria-branded Horrors now :) magdalena's that sudden switch in her - where you can be looking right at maria beaming so softly at you - and then a blink - and shes just.... different and unnerving

[meatriarchived]

the thing about maria in her dire au's is at the beginning, at the start of her being taken in those initial weeks, its all the attempts she made - completely in vain, completely orchestrated and carefully planned / observed by johnny the entire time - take such an exhausting and debilitating toll on her.

its a constant beatdown mentally and emotionally that no matter what she uses, no matter what turns she makes, no matter how thoroughly or well thought-out she tries to plan, no matter what routes, what mindgames, what anything it seems that she tries?

she's always followed. always in view. always in vain. always failing.

by the time lee's brought down in nosy its just...

she's already so jaded, so bitter, so tired, but he isn't yet and so he's so determined, so hopeful still - like she was, all those weeks before - and she doesn't want to trample on it, and that small flickering hope still in her is thinking okay if its both of us, if its both our heads trying to work things out, both sets of hands and feet to get what we need, get to where we have to go, then yes, we can do this, we can make it-

but its still the same end. time. and time. and time, again.

over. and over. and over.

she's already been through so many attempts to get out. and then the next full batch of lee racking his brain trying to think of other ways, other methods, other routes to chance from how she did it the first time(s) and its still not enough.

it just breaks her.

she doesnt understand why they keep failing. how johnny's always steps ahead. she wishes she was strong like danny or lee or donnie, resourceful like connie or danny. brave like her little sister and julie, smart like sonny - but she isn't. not in her eyes. she feels so useless and inadequate and lost at it all. she hates that he's stuck down there with her, when he should've also been out, free, with the rest of them.

[meatriarchived]

i did not sleep yay for me im still on my fuckshit but when i think of cc maria ( by extension also nosy maria but specifically noting the isolation aspect of cc );

can you imagine one day skimming the paper. its been a few weeks since all the commotion knowing your friends' had attempted to come find you but then were chased off. never actually heard or saw any of them, but you know they were around.

but you've been moved from the cells to a mattress upstairs. you're given more freedom, more wiggle room, you're allowed to do things - little hobby-type activities - you're given better foods, you're looked after by the older woman at the other house. the man who took you, who terrifies you still to some degree, slowly doesn't feel like such a stranger anymore, you're right to still be cautious around him but as the days, the weeks, pass by, there's simply a different air about him, and in the shack. lighter, in a sense.

you find yourself growing used to the new daily - the new routine. of waking to the sound of him getting ready for the day, of being left alone in there for hours sometimes, others trailing after him like a duckling, around the older womans' property, helping with an array of tasks. and you worry about upsetting her at first, unsure if doing so will earn a knife to the throat. you listen, you do as you're told, you find some kind of way to co-exist - all the while still, in the back of your mind, there's still a ray of hope,

that maybe, maybe, since the rest of them got away - that they're merely licking their wounds, that they'll get word out and even with all the silence since they had been on the property, there's that shred of hope that maybe? someone will waltz in, guns blazing so to speak, and you'll get out of this hell finally.

that is, until that day - that you're skimming through the paper, and you recognize yourself in a little column - and you realize you're staring at your own fucking obituary.

and in that moment everything seems solidified.

you're never getting away.

there's no point in it.

there's no one out there who are still trying to find you, get you back, bring you home, back to your mothers' arms, back to being an older sister, back to the circle of friends you loved so dearly.

you're dead.

not just to the world, but to those you loved - those who claimed to have loved you, too.

what else do you have at that point? where else do you go, even if you still tried to leave? who wouldn't look at you sideways for the blood that's already stained your hands? for the flesh caught between teeth?

who else is there, except the one murmuring encouragement and praise in your ear?

the only constant you've had in all these weeks? whose words rang true - clearly - that no one cared? that they abandoned you? left you there, didn't even care to make sure you were alive or not? only thought of themselves and got the fuck outta there without confirming if you were even still alive.

[meatriarchived]

when i completely forgot to add her pre-game canon, college, modern, wsu and ch 2 tags-

maria verses tag dump c; and now i nap-