#if something is too personal ill tell you!
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You’re either being purposely obtuse or intellectually dishonest but what you are saying is literally patriarchal brainwashing and so bafflingly sexist that you clearly either hate AFAB people or don’t take harm against us seriously. It’s “transphobia” to demand and maintain sex segregated spaces? Transphobia isn’t the violent males who kill trans people, it’s the AFABs who won’t sacrifice our PHYSICAL SAFTY to protect AMAB ego? Classic AMAB entitlement. Yall tell on yourselves so loud. SRS does not erase male socialization idgaf how dysphoric a AMAB person is their emotional comfort should not be prioritized over AFAB safety. You really think it is acceptable for a AFABs to be victimized so AMABs can feel validated in some weird postmodern sense of constructed identity? We don’t need to check genitals I would have no problem with the manliest most masculine most passing trans man in an afab space because no matter what hormones or surgery are involved they cannot rape and impregnate me with their penis the same way an AMAB person could. We don’t need to check gender if we normalize beating the dog shit out of AMABs who threaten us and disrespect our safety by entering our spaces. D you think AFAB trans people should be put in male spaces, not only bathrooms but hospitals and prisons, where they will be at an even greater danger risk of rape than a AMABs trans person and also stand to suffer greater biological consequences since an AFAB person who gets raped by an AMAB one runs the risk of pregnancy. Also trans AMAB people commit sex crimes at an even higher rate than cis AMAB people, they are literally the largest recorded demographic of sex criminals, and I should sacrifice my safety and let them into my spaces (which again did not START segregated they became that way because AMAB people could t be trusted not to rape/assault AFAB ones)?
Also “capitalism is real because it impacts me in a negative way but all other forms of oppression where I might be considered the privileged one in the dynamic is just hysterical people distracting from capitalism” you aren’t even trying to be subtle in your misogyny go join MGTOW.
“If you include trans people who are also oppressed by patriarchy in your fight against patriarchy but don’t include your oppressors who benefit from patriarchy regardless of gender presentation you are hateful I hope you understand this uwu” literally such a long form way to say you don’t want AFAB people to have a movement where we address our own needs because AMAB people can’t emotionally cope with any reminders that they are privileged under patriarchy exclusively for being AMAB.
I have no problem with trans people, I know and love a good amount of people of both sexes who identify as trans. I trust them fully. That doesn’t mean that women who don’t personally know them are obligated to trust them. And it’s not just bathrooms, I spend a LOT of time in institutions specifically high security mental hospitals for violent/psychotic patients including people sent over from the jails for being too mentally ill to incarcerate. I have to take sleeping pills at night and fall unconscious in a room with these people where I’m only checked on every 15-30 mins which is PLENTY of time for something bad to happen. I don’t want to risk having to share that kind of space with an AMAB person. If trans AMAB people don’t want to be housed with cis ones, they can do the legwork and create those spaces for themselves like AFAB people did they do NOT have the right to commandeer our movement and literally erase our rights and protections because not allowing AMAB people into these vulnerable spaces might give them the big sad. My not wanting AMAB people in AFAB spaces is not from not knowing them, it’s because I DO know them and listen to what is said about AFAB people in TRA spaces and know just how AMAB they are in their entitlement to everything from space to sex.
“You are letting fear define your politics” YEAH MY GUY IM FORCED TO LIVE LIKE A FUCKING PREY ANIMAL!!! Some fear is completely rational. AMAB people can not be trusted in AFAB spaces and your suggestion that I should be okay with even a fraction of a percent of AFABs being physically harmed so AMABs feel emotionally validated is absolutely disgusting and proves how patriarchal you are.
Gender is literally fake and varies from culture to culture. Sex based oppression is real and fucks over the lives of AFAB people worldwide. I’m not basing my politics on protecting feelings, I’m basically them on protecting AFAB people from actual tangible oppression.
"OP is a terf" is a thought-terminating cliche meant to keep you from questioning the status quo and keep you afraid of being labeled a heretic should you come to your own conclusions about anything.
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'A Fresh Start 𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐[part ii]
When the mysterious new girl in town makes a lasting first impression, you make it your goal to befriend and welcome her to the town. [Part i] playlist!!!
self deprecating stalker jinx ill luv u 4eva & eva & eva...
"Hey."
"Hi!"
“. . .”
“. . . ?”
“. . .”
“. . . ???”
You blinked, waiting for her to say literally anything else, but nope. Just “hey.” and now she was standing there, looking like she was on the verge of shitting her pants while you wondered if this was how all her conversations went.
Surprisingly you didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable, more so confused. Looking around, your eyes landed on your old neighbor who’s own eyes were on the girl in front of you. He was giving her this look of judgment. It wasn’t obvious or harsh but it was still there. And then it clicked.
This was her.
The newcomer who moved into that old cottage on the outskirts of town. The one Mrs. Van Dee Kamp couldn’t stop speculating about, the one Mr. Gallagher said “looked like trouble”, and the same one you were so curious about.
It wasn’t long before your group started to shuffle awkwardly, clearly ready to move on. They glanced at her, the kind of quick, hesitant looks people gave when they didn’t want to seem rude but also didn’t want to linger. One by one, they made their excuses, mumbling something about needing to get back to their stalls. They took a couple of steps away, looking back once they realized you weren’t following.
“I’ll catch up with you guys later!” you called, waving them off.
Turning back, you realized she was already staring at you, her wide pink eyes locked onto yours like you’d just caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to.
“Hi!” you started... for the second time now.
“Uh… yeah.” she said, her voice flat as if responding to a completely different conversation.
Not exactly the warmest start, but you continued. “You’re new in town right? People have been talking, but you know, nothing bad! They’re just curious.”
Her eyes glanced left then right as you were talking, like she was scanning for an exit. “Yeah. New.”
You tilted your head. “Well, welcome. I’m–”
“Okay.” she cut you off, her tone abrupt.
“...Okay?” you repeated, blinking.
“Yeah. Thanks. Bye.”
Before you could say another word, she spun on her heel and started walking… no, speed-walking, towards the dirt path that lead into the forest.
You stood there, frozen, your brain scrambling to process what had just happened. Did she seriously just… run away? Mid-conversation?
It took you a solid few seconds to realize your jaw was hanging open. Shutting it quickly, you looked around, half expecting someone to jump out with a camera and tell you that you that it was a prank.
But no. The mysterious girl who had everyone talking had just bolted, leaving you standing there like an idiot.
And for some reason, instead of being offended, you couldn’t help but laugh.
Who was she? And what kind of person walked away from a perfectly normal greeting? Mind you, a greeting she had started. You didn’t know why, but suddenly, you were dying to find out.
. . .
This feeling wasn’t technically new.
For weeks, you’d felt it, that weird sensation on the back of your neck, like someone was watching you. At first, it had been easy to ignore. You told yourself it was just your brain playing tricks. It was harmless. Whatever.
But now? Not so much.
The feeling wasn’t just there when you stood still like it was before, it followed you now. Around the market, down quiet streets, even when you stopped to chat with neighbors. You’d catch glimpses, a blur of blue hair disappearing behind a corner, the faintest sound of boots on the gravel.
More than once, you were so sure you’d catch them. You’d spin around at the sound of a shuffle or a shadow that felt too close. But by the time you looked? Nothing. Just an empty alley or a completely innocent looking street lamp.
It was driving you nuts.
You didn’t have to guess who it was either. You knew it was her. The girl from the square, Powder, or whatever her name really was. The way she’d bolted last time you tried to talk to her? That had to mean something.
Now it wasn’t just about being watched. It was about her. What was her deal? Why was she sneaking around? Why couldn’t she just talk to you?
You're own feelings about the situation were confusing you. You didn't necessarily... mind it. Unlike the other townsfolk, you didn't see her as a threat. She didn't seem like the type who would go out of her way to harm you. So 'why' was the question, and you were determined to figure it out.
Every time you caught a glimpse of her, something tugged at you. It wasn’t just the mystery of it all, though that was definitely part of it. There was something about her, it's like she didn't want to be seen yet wanted all of your attention.
And you wanted to know why. Why so secluded? Why so interested in your mundane countryside life?
It wasn’t like the townsfolk were any help either. They whispered about her, sure, 'the new girl with the blue hair and the weird vibes' but that’s all they did. Whispers. Speculation. None of them had actually tried to get to know her as far as you could tell.
Which left it to you.
The more you thought about it, the more determined you got. You didn’t want to believe she was some big, bad menace just because she didn’t fit into their little box of what people here were 'supposed' to be like. She was human, and just as deserving of a community as anyone else. So, yeah, you had questions.
And, apparently, she had no intention of giving you any answers.
It was almost funny how good she was at avoiding you. You’d be walking down the street, sure you'd spotted her near the bakery, and then poof. Gone. Like she had been a figment of your imagination. It was starting to feel like a game, except you knew something she didn't. How to cheat.
. . .
“Alright, I know you’re in there!” you yelled, leaning closer to the door as your fist continued to bang on the wood. “You can’t hide forever!”
Silence.
You squinted at the cottage, the place looked... interesting. It was still that run down creepy cottage you remembered always seeing whenever you passed by, but it was strangely... lively. Big scraps of metal and parts outside, colorful flowers (although wilted), and colorful graffiti that seemed to cover every side.
Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you knocked again harder, this time raising your voice. “I’m not leaving until you open this door!”
Still nothing.
“Powder! Or... whatever your name is!” you shouted, hoping the use of her name might get a reaction.
From inside, you swore you heard a faint creak. A floorboard, maybe? It was hard to tell over the sound of your heart hammering in your ears. You leaned forward, pressing your ear to the door.
“I can hear you in there, you know.” you tried, softening your tone just a bit, stepping back from the door. “I’m not mad or anything. I just want to talk! That’s all.”
The silence that followed felt even more deafening than before. For a second, you wondered if you’d imagined the sound altogether.
And then, just as you were about to knock again, the door creaked open.
Barely.
A narrow space, enough for one pink eye to peek through.
“What do you want?” came a voice.
It wasn’t hostile exactly, but it wasn’t friendly either. Cautious. Suspicious.
You blinked, caught off guard by just how intense her gaze was up close.
“Uh, hi?” you started, scrambling for words that didn’t sound totally ridiculous. “We’ve been running into each other a lot lately- well, okay, more like you’ve been running away- but I just wanted to…” You trailed off, realizing you hadn’t actually planned this far ahead.
Her eye narrowed slightly, not moving to open the door any wider.
“...check in?” you finally finished, wincing at your own words.
The door inched shut a little more.
“Wait, wait!” you said frantically as you held up your hands.
“I mean it! No tricks, no weird town gossip or whatever. I just… I think we got off on the wrong foot. Can we maybe start over? I'd love to be friends.”
Her eye flicked to your hands, then back to your face. For a moment, you thought she was actually gonna let you in.
Instead, she sighed. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
Her voice was quieter now, laced with something you couldn’t quite place. Regret? Fear?
“Why not?” you asked gently, lowering your hands.
But she didn’t answer, instead she gave you this long silent look. And just as you were about to speak up again, the door shut and the bolt slid into place.
“Well, okay then.”
. . .
when i talk abt the town pls imagine a Minecraft village or something of the sort ...
this chapter was SOOOO SELF DIVULGENT btw lololol was totally laughing my ass off writing it. I hope the difference in the way i write their povs is noticeable!!! also its 2am rn ill make sure to proof read in the morning... maybe...
part 3 sometime this week probs! it'll go back to being in pows pov ≽^•⩊•^≼˚
notes r appreciated & thx 4 reading as aaalways XOXOXOXO
[Teensy taglist (ˊᗜˋ)]
@cattjull @kenqki @powderbomb-jinxed
#جد#أحبا أحبا أحبا#arcane#jinx arcane#arcane x reader#jinx x reader#arcane league of legends x reader#jinx#jinx arcane x reader#arcane league of legends#x reader
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THE THREAD I HAVE BEEN PROCRASTINATING ON FOR A WHILE!!!
murderface’s autistic traits
because i see a lot of people talking about toki, skwisgaar, and nate’s autistic traits but never murderface.,,,
under the cut
one of the more obvious traits is his interest in war history and macabre things, which definitely seems like a special interest. it takes up his WHOLE ROOM, and the only time we see him taking a vacation is for a war reinactment. it is basically the only thing we see him have any interest in outside of dethklok and other music endeavors (which he does not seem to be that interested in even) he is genuinely PASSIONATE for history.
his gullibility is definitely overplayed for jokes but to me it reads as an extremely obvious autistic trait. for example , the firecracker scene. that scene just screams autistic to me. the way he just never realizes that he should STOP trusting them and keeps on bending down? yeah.
one of the less obvious things that I notice is his pickiness with foods. also a joke and definitely tied to extreme internalized homophobia, but it just seems like something that most neurotypical people would not go to the lengths to defend. yes I know that he does eat a hot dog in doublebookedklok but who says autism people cannot be hypocrites, I know I am lol. also just a headcanon of mine that he is sensitive to foods and sticks to foods he is comfortable with + knows well, seems to be pretty canon compliant too.
something i notice is how he does seem to understand some social norms, but not fully. and even the ones he does understand, he does not care to follow. for me as an autistic person that is something I heavily relate to. It is hard to follow the social norms you do understand when you have no reason to, and you have never had them explained to you. murderface was just treated as a problem kid his entire life so of course he just sticks with it instead of trying to work on his attitude.
kind of reaching but autistic people are more likely to experience depression and other mental illnesses, something that murderface definitely deals with. he also shows symptoms in less typical was, tied in with his anger issues. i think his anger issues could also be compared to how he was never taught to deal with his emotions, and also combine with autistic meltdowns of the sort. basically all of his issues just are worsened by his autistic traits.
SPELLING!!! i know this is just something that shows he is uneducated, which makes sense as he (in the shoe, NOT the comics) grew up in the south (probably in poverty) and never cared for school, but it also could have been heightened by his trouble learning new concepts. he very easily could have been pushed away by the fact that no one understood how to be patient with him and teach him in a way he understood, an experience lots of autistic people face.
the way murderface talks to people, he rarely knows how to act when he is not complaining or insulting people, which definitely ties into the lack of social skills. he also seems to not be able to tell when people are joking, or read emotional subtleties.
with how he tries to be a “gentleman” around ladies, it definitely shows how he does not know how to act outside of stereotypes and what he has been taught, almost like he is following a script.
HYGIENE. a big thing for autistic people. i know some people who are extreme near freaks and very very cautious with hygiene, as for me and others,,, not caring at all. i think it is obvious murderface falls into the second category, he does not CARE about hygiene and frankly, does not want to. we seen him showering in one scene so I think he is capable of doing self-care oriented things, but maybe it is hard for him to start, or he is uncomfortable with it in most occasions.
we???? Have never seen him wear pants? Like never. Even when wearing suits he has never worn pants. Definitely a sensory thing and NOT NORMAL?? just something subtle but texture in clothing is definitely a big thing with sensory issues.
headcanons
ahem ahem,,, we never see him in any shoes with shoelaces so I like to headcanon that he either never learned how to tie his shoes, or if he did, he is very bad at it and it takes him a while, so he is embarrassed to tie his shoes in front of anyone.
i also like to think he makes a lot of references to old TV shows (see my murderface agere post) and got a lot of his ideas of what “masculinity” is from those. i assume he shaped his worldview around fiction and what he learned from history, which resulted in a really warped perspective.
that is all for now!! i will probably add onto this later!! ^_^ byebye!
#metalocalypse#mtl#murderface#william murderface#metalocalypse headcanons#headcanons#character analysis#Metalocalypse analysis#William murderface character analysis#William murderface analysis#Metalocalypse character analysis#autistic characters
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Something something… through Viktor’s actions we see his possible linear mental checklist of his goals in life, and those goals included eventually confessing his feelings to Jayce, but before he did he felt he needed to do other things first. Namely:
1) Make Hextech a reality - Check. Viktor and Jayce actually achieved this one by 1.04. They could continue to refine forever but you can tell they both felt a sense of accomplishment in this.
2) Give Hextech to the people - Incomplete. At the end of S1 they had the refined Hextech crystals but the full benefits of their work had not reached the masses. Nor would it/should it ever.
3) Help the Undercity - incomplete, arguably completely unaddressed or even undermined by their work. The Hexgates drew Piltover’s attention away from the Undercity, which is why it languished while Piltover looked to distant markets. Hextech materially made life worse for the Undercity, as the alternate timeline showed us.
4) Hextech innovations lead to a cure for Viktor’s disease and disability - Successful but in the most horrifying way possible, including a body count.
5) Profit - Confess his feelings to Jayce.
(Don’t get too hung up on the order here because obviously a lot of these things could happen concurrently and I don’t think Viktor is stupid he would know that Hextech innovation could take a lifetime and probably wouldn’t wait to confess to Jayce just for that endlessly moving finish line.)
BUT, joking aide, I truly DO think that Viktor is kind and empathetic at his core and he really didn’t plan to confess his feelings to Jayce until he found a cure for his disease, which would require a lot of Hextech innovation to have any hope of reaching. Literally it would take a miracle.
I think Viktor’s belief in his own inadequacy could have festered in the painful doldrums of his own rapidly advancing illness after the initial glow of making the Hexgates happen.
Any hope of finding a cure was always remote, but as his illness advanced, this is when he may have even begun to push Jayce away, knowing the inevitable was coming. He certainly wouldn’t confess feelings to someone he loved with his days so numbered.
And that’s where I think a thread of actual resentment towards Mel might have crept in. To be fair, I don’t think Viktor hated her as a person, as such, nor was he a swooning teenager wracked by petty jealousy. But I think it must have stung to have his days so numbered and have this woman who represented everything he couldn’t offer to Jayce: health, wealth, beauty, position, prestige, etc distracting his attention away during what might be Viktor’s final days.
The thing is, I think rationally Viktor didn’t say anything because again, his days were numbered and Jayce and Mel were happy and well suited and beautiful and perfect together. He had nothing to offer. And it would be cruel to drag Jayce back just so Jayce would have to mourn him even more. Then as a result, Viktor was even more consumed by trying to save his own life by a miracle, though he now had to do it more alone than he ever predicted he would have to.
But there’s that horrible catch 22. He can’t tell Jayce how he feels because he might fail and die anyway and that would be cruel to someone he loves. But if he doesn’t tell Jayce, Jayce won’t come back to his side to help him out with the research needed to maybe save it.
Then Sky dies to the Hexcore and Viktor realizes just how much he’d lost of the parts of himself he liked, the parts that cared about helping others as PART of the cure for himself, and truly just gave up on any of it. He made his peace, decided to support Jayce during the emancipation of Zaun as a sort of ambassador, and resigned himself to the fact this would be the end for him.
Well, we know what happened next. Jayce saved his life, against Viktor’s wishes, using Viktor’s now-hates innovation.
Ok so now for the part that I was trying to get to:
A newly healed Viktor now has to reevaluate his life’s work checklist. It’s a much shorter list now.
1) Save his own life - check.
2) Figure out a way to make the world a better place - check.
3) Confess to Jayce now that you’re proud of who you are both inside and outside. You are finally worthy of him. You will finally live long enough that confessing isn’t an act of cruelty. You finally have achievements that make you worthy to proposition the creator of Hextech and the man you love, who is as far as you know, currently dating the physical embodiment of perfection.
And that explains Viktor’s catwalk into the Council Chamber in 2.08. He’s decked out in Mel’s colors. He’s ready to compete. He’s perfect now. He’s found a way to save humanity from itself. He is now worthy of Jayce and in a place where he can actually offer a lifetime together.
And Jayce rejects him.
This stuns Viktor. Actually, it fully knocks him into a villain arc, because Jayce has never refused him anything before. And Viktor can’t comprehend why his checklist didn’t work. Why did becoming perfect not work?
Because Jayce didn’t need the checklist. He’d already broken up with Mel. He didn’t need Viktor to be healed or to have already saved the world or to be anything else but Jayce’s partner. Jayce would have been happier if Viktor proposed at Step 0, but Viktor thought that would be a cruelty if he didn’t have a cure yet.
But I truly think Jayce would have preferred even just a day as Viktor’s official partner if that was all they got over a decade of being held at arm’s length until “everything was perfect”.
And that’s what Viktor doesn’t understand.
And that’s what Jayce had to show him in that final act of love.
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ahhh so. warning. will be talking about arcane s2 spoilers below the cut. i have. so! many. thoughts.
i've seen a few takes that s2 felt very rushed to some people, and like. yeah? i can get that. but also. not really.
there was A Lot of ground to cover so it moved very quickly but the pacing actually made a lot of sense to me. i think that this show has never attempted to tell each characters story in the fullest. like, to me, that's what makes the world building so good. you are only witnessing part of the story. there is only so much of each character that we, the viewers are allowed to see.
yes there was a lot introduced in the final act, yes some of it made zero sense. but, to me at least, it makes it so much more realistic and immersive.
the final act is war time. shit happens fast. decisions are made and acted upon almost immediately. there isn't time to mourn and there isn't time to grieve. if you stop, you will die so you must keep marching forward.
we don't get to see what signed is up to, we don't get to understand the complexities between mel and her mother, we don't get time to break down how the arcane is changing we just have to know that something is happening and it will affect us so we must do something to react.
moving on, i really wanna talk about jayce and viktor first because. their final discussion, had me ill. i'm honestly really glad that they are never officially established in the show, because it makes their bond that much stronger to me.
the first season, we see how their studies connected them and propelled them forward. in jayces case, it pushes him into politics. in viktors, deeper into the arcane. they had to set everything else aside *cough cough their morals and personal relationships(sky & each other)* in order to achieve what they wanted to achieve.
in the second season, we see how that was their demise. for viktor, the creators did an amazing job showing us this with the scene between him and sky.
'i'll miss our talks'
'no you won't'
like holy shit? in those two lines, we see how viktor has fundamentally changed. his goals, his objectives, they got lost somewhere. in the first season, we do see how much viktor enjoys discussing his ideals and thoughts, its what drives him to go and find jayce in the first place.
and as for jayce, he's icarus. he flew too close to the sun and he, in a lot of ways, is the beginning of the end. while ekko and heimerdinger were building their way out of the alt time line, he was witnessing the destruction his invention brought about.
and don't even get me started on them calling each other their partner during their entire last talk. like wtf im ILL.
okay! onto jinx! (and isha and vi) i have. heard a lot of complaints about how one- her death was for shock value and two- that isha's death was glossed over and i whole-heartily disagree.
i think first off, jinx isn't dead. there a lot of people out there who can put the details together more precisely than i care to tbh, but my biggest reason is the airship we see at the end. these creators LOVE their foreshadowing and i mean LOVE (think viktor showing off the invention and shooting that gun to how that gun is later used). i think it's literally the first episode that powder says she wants to ride in one and ur telling me the last episode we get a shot of one flying away? yeah no. my girl is alive and breaking the cycle.
speaking of breaking the cycle, vi would never be able to move on with her life if jinx is still around. she would never be able to grow, to be willing to work on her relationship with cait, would never be able to escape the guilt, etc etc. that's like, a big point that i think a lot of people are missing.
for vi, jinx is everything. and she should be. she is the only family she has left. and had she not walked away from her, there is NO TELLING what would've happened to the two of them.
jinx's 'death' was for the both of them. they can move on now, they are free to allow the shit show that was their childhood be in the past. like hello?????? did y'all not listen to the conversation that she had with ekko in the alt time line? you need to let go of some things to be able to move onto the next and it sucks and it hurts and its shitty but the world will keep spinning.
and the only way that jinx was able to come to this conclusion is because she lost isha. had isha still been around, she would have had to stick around zaun and piltover. but also. i need y'all to realize that jinx is used to losing people, she is used to grief, it is a close friend to her.
and i think, thematically too, vi not moving to the other ledge is SO IMPORTANT. she CAN'T let vander go. that was her father, that man raised her, she couldn't let him go. are y'all connecting the dots? like! hello! do you see?
vi has never been one to let someone she loves go lightly. the entire first season she is grappling with this idea that her sister changed, that she moved on and allowed herself to let her past (kinda) go. it doesn't make sense to her. she allows caitlyn back so easily because it terrifies her to lose someone in her life.
that is who she is in her core.
and that is why jinx makes the decision for her. it's her way of saying, 'i see you, i understand you and i will make the hard call for you because i love you'
so yeah, like i said. a lot of thoughts. im so excited to see wtf is going on in noxus in the future show and am so intrigued by whatever the fuck is going on with mel.
also. maybe it's just me. but i love an open ending. i think being able to talk about the what if's and the maybe is so much fun. not everything has to be wrapped up with a bow on top. again, we, the viewers, only get a small insight into the world the characters live in. this show could go on for ages if we followed them all the way through their lives. this was never meant to be that type of show. go watch friends or smthn if you want a formulaic story that will clean every lose end up for you.
we follow these characters through a formative moment in their life, what happens next is up to them. (and psst. that's what fan fiction is for)
#arcane s2 spoilers#if you read all of this i applaud you it was so much more than i meant it to be but i just couldn't stop writing#i have so many more lil thoughts too like the focus on jinx's hands/nails#the all pink in the alt time line had me sick to my stomach#and the way they were bloody and torn up when she was in the cell#and also her final convo with silco#silco i love you i miss you#omg i didn't even touch on the fucking sex scene#or ekko damn#or the god damn dance between ekko and jinx#maybe ill make a pt 2 to this later when i had the emotional energy to rewatch it#i need to go hydrate now tho bc i cried so fucking much#like i had to pause it multiple times because i couldn't see past the fucking tears#god i love this show#arcane act 3#arcane#jinx#vi arcane#jinx arcane#jayvik#jayce talis#viktor arcane
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Did I plan to write a feral/murderous O'Connor and how she nearly breaks completely... No! Not at all. But the idea of watching my most stable character slowly breaking is interesting to me so enjoy! This will in first person pov not the usual third person limited that I tend to rock. Enjoy!
!TRIGGER WARNING! Graphic Depictions of Torture and Murder, Psychological Break, Guns, Forceful Drug Use, Sleep Deprivation, Starvation, Sexual Harassment, Severe Disassociation
I'm telling y'all this dark. I don't know what's wormed it's way into my brain but it's not leaving till I have this out. Should I probably not post this? Yes! Am I going to anyways also yes!
🕊️!DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!🕊️
Day 1: It's to be a simple week-long mission, my team and I are going into Urzikstan to render aid to civilians. Laswell made it abundantly clear this was just to help where we could, if there's combat we are not to interfere. Farah assured Laswell nothing has occurred and that this is purely to assist with the aftermath. So none of the other 141 came with me. I was a little worried for them as they're being sent on a few low intensity missions also, but I've always enjoyed working with civilians so I took the mission and calmed myself. I'm currently sitting in the large red cross tent updating Price and Laswell. Today was mostly for setting up and preparing nothing too intense.
Day 2: It's been busy, there's plenty of work for me and my team to do. Everything from simple injuries like scratches and to complex burns and stitches. We're mostly treating infections and illnesses but it's been nice talking with the locals and learning of their rebuilding efforts. Alex and Farah help with translation and organization, keeping everything flowing nicely. It's been exhausting but fulfilling, I try to give Laswell an update but I can't seem to get through so I'll try again tomorrow. Probably have to get closer to a long ranged receiver but that's a tomorrow problem.
Day 3: A young man came to my tent asking if I could do a house call, his grandfather was very sick and in no shape to travel. I agree to help before informing my lieutenant of where I'll be and to radio me if something urgent needs my attention. He's a fast kid but I keep pace well enough, my basic medical bag is with me along with my pistol; visible at my side, and my knife; hidden within my clothing. We arrive at a small metal shack with no windows and a small door.
The young man enters before me, holding the door open and waving me in. I have to duck to get through the door. I spotted the old man instantly, he's laying with his back towards us so I can't get a good look at him just yet. I move over to the laying figure and sit on my knees next to him, placing my aid bag down to my right.
I hear rapid shuffling as something hard is pressed to the back of my head. I know that feeling anywhere, this isn't my first time being robbed while on call. Closing my eyes, taking a deep breath and raising my hands slowly. When I open my eyes again the figure in front of me rolls over holding a rifle, it's hard for me to make out in the dim lighting.
"There's only mild pain relievers in my bag, I don't carry anything stronger when on a house call." I try to keep my voice calm and even as the barrel of the gun moves a bit lower towards my neck.
"We're not here for the drugs, we're here for you; Captain Maevis O'Connor: Second Commanding Officer of the SAS's 141 squadron and dear friend to one Captain John Price... That is you no?" A man's voice with a thick Russian accent comes from the room to my left. I don't recognize the voice but they know me which is worrying.
"You are going to be very helpful and tell us all we ask... Or you die! Understood?" I nod my head slowly trying to catch a glimpse of the figure talking but I can't see him.
"Now take her away, we'll talk in better conditions!" Before I can respond I feel a cloth cover my mouth and nose as the man in front of me reaches out and holds the cloth there. I try to struggle, to reach for my radio or gun, anything, but my limbs go weak and my vision fades.
I wake up to cold water splashing against me, bright lights on my face causing me to squint. I try to move my arms but they're bound, my legs are free though. I'm stripped down to just my tank top and cargo pants, no boots or socks. I blink against the light as a masculine figure moves in front of me. He reaches towards me to grab my face, I try to pull back before he grabs my chin.
"You lamb are going to tell me everything you know willingly... Or we'll break you and you'll tell us after. Which would you prefer?"
I turn my head into his hand and bite as hard as I can, I can taste blood in my mouth but I continue biting. A heavy blow to my gut caused me to release my hold. I hear the man cursing in Russian as I receive another blow to my stomach.
"Don't do this Lamb, it will not go how you plan. Please I hate to beat a woman with such a pretty face but I will if I have too."
"Go feck yourself..."
"I just want to know about your wonderful Captain, you see he knows about the location of a very good friend of mine and I would like to see him. Now you're his second in command and a very close ally to John, you must know something about where my friend is, no?"
"Doesn't ring any bells"
"Ah! But I haven't told you my friends name yet! Aren't you a little bit curious?"
"No, don't care either..." Another punch this time higher just below my sternum. I wheeze a bit from the blow.
"Hmm, so you truly haven't heard about the failings of Price to Vladimir Makarov?"
I freeze a bit at the name, I've never heard anything from John himself but Laswell gave me the operation file. There was a lot of blacked out text even at my clearance but from what I could read it's a good thing he's in some unknown black site prison. This isn't going to go well for me, even if I tell them everything I know I doubt they'll believe me nor will they let me go.
"I know of him but they never let me read the operation file. Wasn't interested in reading about a mad man who's dead in a ditch somewhere..."
"AH! But he's not dead, he's very much alive Ms. O'Connor... And you will tell me where."
Another punch, harder this time, the man says something in Russian and I only pick up a few words. Nothing helpful, I feel stupid for never taking Nikoli up on his offer to teach me more than just the basics.
The figure punching me laughs and walks out of my field of view. It's a small field of view due to the bright light shining directly into my face. I feel myself being grabbed by my arms and pulled up, the light in front of me moves and I can see I'm in a very simple concrete cell, no bed, bathroom, nothing just a pipe coming from over top all the way through to the other side and a small table with a chain on it.
The Russian man who was talking has his back to me as he opens the door. I throw my head back hard into the skull of the man holding me from behind and his grip loosens. I take my opportunity to bum rush the man, slamming myself hard against him and the open door. He's knocked prone as I continue to run. Blood pumping in my ears to turn a corner and come face to face with two very heavily armed guards. I try to rush past them but they grab me and pull me back, I kick and flail trying to get another opportunity to escape.
"Oh how I wish you didn't do that Lamb, now my friend will have to teach you a lesson. Demetrius?" A figure steps out of the cell I was in, he has a bloody nose. I feel a small twinge of satisfaction from seeing it bleeding and swelling.
"Teach her well!" With that I'm tossed back into the cell after a guard bounds my ankles, I trip forwards causing the air to be knocked from my lunges. I hear heavy footsteps as the man, Demetrius, looms over me. He steps onto my left leg putting heavy pressure on it, then his full weight as he kicks my side once, knocking the little air in my lungs back out. I watch as he pulls out something shiny and metallic, before placing it onto his hands. I feel a hard blunt pain as his boot connects with my side again, once, twice, three times before he stops. The man over me chuckles darkly as he reaches down and pulls me up by my hair causing most of it to fall out the bun it was tied up in.
He drags me towards the back wall, he grabs something from the table and ties the chain around my wrist. He gets the chain over the pipe and begins to pull me up higher and higher, my toes barely touching the cold cement ground. My arm high above my head stretching my arms and shoulders in an uncomfortable and painful way, there's already a bull ache in my shoulder.
"Such a lovely body." The man's hand begins to caress my hips as I try to move away. He clicks his tongue before stepping away again, he removes his jacket and turns to me with a sadistic smile. He approaches, before landing multiple punches to my stomach and sternum.
Each blow I can feel the brass knuckles he's wearing. There's a slight throbbing pain after every hit, I know I'm going to bruise. He continues to beat me to near unconsciousness before stopping. He leaves me chained up as the first man comes back, he grabs the chair I was in originally and turns it towards me sitting down in front of me.
"Interesting, Demetrius didn't touch your face. I have to say I'm happy about that, you have such a lovely face Lamb." I just stared past him not once looking at him but keeping my head up.
"Come now Lamb if you tell us what we want you'll be free to walk your cell. I'm sure your arms are hurting now, no?" I keep my mouth shut and continue staring forwards. He mumbles to himself before standing to leave.
"Give her half rations and water, you will get more if you speak Lamb."
This cycle continues for a while, Demetrius comes into the cell beats me to near unconsciousness then Wolf (This is the only name I hear anyone call him) comes to try to talk to me. I just stare past him, keeping my head high and my mouth shut. I don't know how much time has passed. I guess a few days but I know Price and the 141 will come. Farah and Alex know I left the area and I've not come back... Unless something has happened to them as well.
I'm not given much food or water, my stomach keeps growling and there's the faint gnawing sensation in my abdomen. I'm kept in the same position, hanging by my bound wrists from the chain above me. Demetrius walks into my cell and drags in a little medical cart. Wolf follows closely behind him before approaching his chair and sits down crossing legs.
"Oh little Lamb you've made this very difficult for us. You've held out well against Demetrius and I must commend you for that." He gives a little clap as Demetrius chuckles darkly next to me.
"But we need the information Lamb so Demetrius is going to start using his favorite tools. Now I'm being kind and giving you one last chance to speak." I see Demetrius picks up a blade and wince as he pulls it across my cheek. I hiss as the pain spreads through my face. I can feel the warm blood trickle down my cheek, it's a stark contrast to the cold cell I'm stuck in.
"Feck. You." I hiss, I know I just have to hold out. My team is coming for me. Price won't abandon me no matter what anyone says. I've seen him do it before for people he's known for less time. Las Almas and Alejandro's team come to my mind as it's the most recent example.
Wolf waves a hand and I feel the sharp dragging pain as Demetrius drags his blade across my upper left arm along the underside. The blade is sharp so I don't feel the pain until after the wound is made, a thumping pain that matches the beating of my heart. I can feel the rapid dripping of my blood, the sound of my blood hitting the ground echoing through the room.
"Lamb? Do you have anything to tell me?"
"You're feckin stupid if you think a simple cut will get me to tell you anything." I stare straight ahead as I try to distract myself from the pain. I can feel another slow pull of the knife across my upper hips ripping through my skin and tank top. I bite my tongue refusing to make any noise.
"Oh come now Lamb let us hear you at least." I keep myself as calm as possible as another cut is pulled across the same hip slightly above the first one. I hear him sigh as Wolf stands up and walks out the cell, turning around to look back towards me.
"If you wish for Demetrius to stop his work all you have to do is talk Ms. O'Connor. Cut her rations again, maybe delirium from starvation will help our little Lamb loosen her lips."
Demetrius continues to slash through my skin and I focus on anything else but the pain. So I start to pull back into my mind. It's like I'm slowly carving a little hole in my consciousness, it's safe and warm there. I can't talk when there as well so I can't let anything slip. Falling into the little cave helps me deal with the pain and hunger, I know I won't have to do this much longer. Price is coming, he'll be here and he will help me get out of here.
I'm dragged out of my head as I feel a hand grab my chin and something slimy drag across my cheek. Demetrius licks up my cheek, collecting my blood and groaning. I feel sick as he meets my eyes and the same maniacal grin spreads across his face. I scream as a piercing pain radiates from my lower right hip, another scream is ripped from my chest as the knife is twisted sharply before being pulled out harshly. The hammering pain matches the rapid beating in my chest.
"Oh so pretty when you cry, I'm going to burn this picture into my mind for later. Thank you Maevis."
He moves away and I quietly cry trying desperately to crawl my way back into the safe little cave in my mind. But this seems to have caved in a little, I can't pull back as far. I can still feel every drag of Demetrius's knife across my chest, arms, thighs, and back. I keep telling myself that it's okay, they're coming. They're going to get me out of here and I'll be safe.
This cycle doesn't last as long as the previous one, or at least I think so, it's hard to tell time. My stomach stopped growling, but the gnawing had spread from my lower abdomen to my chest. Every time I breathe I can feel it biting down on my ribs, like it's trying to eat it way out of me. A wild feral beast chewing at bars of metal in desperation to flee.
Wolf walks in with another man's and Demetrius. I don't bother looking at them keeping my sight fixed on the same spot as before. I've pulled myself out of my head, out of my cave, just a bit to listen to what Wolf has to say. He gives away more than he knows by talking to me. A great little bit of information he's revealed is that he's not the one in charge. He's a middle man.
I keep replaying Ghost's words in my head when he talked to me about combating interrogation. 'Never look at your capture but always listen. If you give them nothing they'll get desperate and will show their hands more often than not. That information can be used and could be more deadly than a weapon. The real task is surviving long enough to know how to use it against them.'
"Lamb, you're being unnecessarily stubborn. You're forcing my hand but again I'm giving you a chance to talk before Ivan is put to work. So I'll ask you again, where is Makarov, what do you know?" He sounds like he's begging, but I'm not stupid and keep my mouth shut.
Wolf sighs and shakes his head, gesturing to the shorter man, Ivan. He approaches me holding a needle with liquid in it. I feel my heart rate spike as I try to move away. I feel a pair of hands grab me and hold me still, I glance back to see Demetrius smiling that same disgusting smile. I start thrashing hard ignoring the pain as I reopen wounds and the strain in my arms and shoulders. I feel a slight prick in my neck and something warm spread through my neck, shoulder, and upper skull.
I retreat into my mind, as far back as I can get hoping that whatever was pushed into my veins would have a harder time affecting me. I know it's unlikely but it's all I can do to comfort myself.
It takes some time for me to feel the changes, everything is brighter... sharper. I can feel every dull ache and thrum of pain across my skin. When Wolf talks it's loud and the lights seem to flicker brighter when he does. He asks his same questions, using the same leverage that isn't that going to change my mind. I'm acutely aware of Demetrius's hands still on my hips, his thumb rubbing circles into my hips. Then he squeezes them and I thrash away from him. Wolf barks something in Russian and Demetrius leaves the room.
'Price is coming, they'll save me. I just have to hold out.' I can feel myself mumbling away, slurring my speech as I keep saying my little mantra. A part of me is very aware saying this out loud isn't a good idea but I can't stop the part of my brain that's blabbering. It's strange how aware I am of myself but unable to control my body. It's because I'm in my safe little cave in my head, just barely keeping my head above the water that has rapidly started flooding in. The pain and drugs mixing with me retreating into myself is dangerous but I'm not drowning. So I stay, breathing calmly, hoping I can pull myself out before I drown.
"Oh Lamb, you truly think Price will come for you? It has been eight days, they do not care for you. Though your little American friend tried to come get you with a small group. We have him in another building, he's faring far better than you. He holds no information that we need so we haven't touched him... Much."
"You're... Wrong! Price... Never! He wouldn't... They'll come... They have to... They will..." I feel something warm slide down my cheeks... Tears, why am I crying? I know they'll come to get me. So why am I crying?
"Poor Lamb is so loyal to someone who has abandoned you, Makarov would never repay such loyalty with this betrayal... Just tell me where he is and I'll personally inform him of your part in his escape."
"No" I hear Wolf goan in frustration before standing and leaving.
"Ivan dose her again when this round wears off. Keep doing so while Demetrius does his usual routine."
Wolf leaves me to Demetrius and Ivan. Demetrius seemed all too happy to continue his work with his knives. He raved about all the foul things he's going to do with me in mind, what he'd like to do to me, how he's more than happy to have such a resilient woman break to him. Every word made me sick and I couldn't handle listening to it anymore. His perverted words mixing with the pain is maddening.
I'm taking a risk, I know it but it's the only way for me to feel safe. I stop trying to float, stopping wading in this water, letting myself sink into thick liquid miasma of drugs and pain. It's calming in a way, everything is muffled and muddy. I feel myself drifting deeper into the strangely numbing cocktail. Safe and comfortable...
I don't know how long I drifted in the cocktail mixture of pain and drugs. I know it's been days, eventually though I resurfaced. Ivan and Demetrius eventually leave as I slowly come down from the drug. My head is pounding and my body feels like it's on fire so I stay tucked away in my flooded cave, head barely above the water. I have to crawl back out a bit as Wolf returns to my cell.
"I tried Lamb, I tried very hard to keep you out of Sergey's room but you are too stubborn. Demetrius get her down."
My ankles are untied and the chain holding me up lowers. I can't help the sigh of relief as my arms fall in front of me. I stumbled forward as I felt a hand shoving me forwards, I got the hint and started walking. There are two armed figures in front and behind me, Demetrius and Wolf to my left and right.
I'm forced to walk for a bit, passing other cells most are empty or impossible to see in. The ones with people in them aren't looking any better than me. Eventually we reach a door and I'm shoved through. It's another cement room with a small window at the top of the far back wall. It's dark I can see there's outlines in the dark of items but I can only make out a few things. There's a light on over a single chair and there's a man standing next to the chair. That's the one thing I can see clearly.
I'm shoved into the chair, my hands are rebound behind the chair. My legs are bound together and then tied to the front two legs. Wolf sits down in another chair in front of me, Demetrius leans against the wall next to the door, and the other man, Sergey walks behind me, draping a rope around the front of me and placing both hands on my shoulders.
"I suggest you speak up now Lamb, Sergey isn't going to give you much time to speak" I stare straight ahead mentally preparing myself for what is next. I don't know if I can fully retreat into myself but I have to protect myself and going there is the only way I know how.
Sergey's hand moved to grab the rope and hold it taunt. I take one last deep breath as the rope is wrapped slowly around my throat. I try to keep calm knowing that if I panic it'll be exactly what they want. But I also know that not panicking will be more difficult as this goes on.
"Last chance Lamb, all you have to do is tell us what you know. You'll be taken back to your cell maybe even get to visit your American friend, yes?"
I say nothing, slowly I feel the rope get tighter and tighter. At first there was not much of a change, it's like breathing with my compression bra and full kit tactical vest. There's a restriction but if you know how to compensate for it, it's not that hard to deal with. Then it's like running for too long, I'm bringing in air but it's shallow. Wheezing and panting, it's not pleasant but it's not enough to kill but it's uncomfortable.
As the rope gets tighter I can feel burning around my throat, the rope rubbing and cutting into the skin making it raw and tender. I can hear my heart beat, feel it thrumming in my skull. You know that feeling when you're holding your breath under water, those last moments of desperation before you push yourself out of the water? Imagine that but there's no surface to break through, I'm just sitting with the feeling. I force myself to retreat deeper into myself.
As soon as I do my body reacts, leg and arms twitching trying to fight against my restraints. My vision begins to blur and blacken around the edges, I can feel my lunges burning like there's fire slowly engulfing my chest. My whole body is thrumming and pounding in tune with my heart, like everything is pulsing. I can feel a cold sheen of sweat across my body, I think I'm crying but it's hard to tell. I think I'm too dehydrated to cry but I'm sweating so I can't be too certain. It's hard to think, to move, to do anything except gasp desperately for air.
I'm teetering on the edge of oblivion, I know if this keeps up I won't be around to see salvation. A part of me is hoping for that little push, to have this all end. I wonder if it would be the same as when I retreat into myself, just floating in the miasma of distant feelings. I wonder if I'll feel the pain of my body slowly fade or if it'll just all disappear at once...
Suddenly the pressure is gone, I'm shunted out of my brain into the driver's seat. I gasp for air, gulping and heaving trying desperately to air in my lungs. The feelings are still there but faint like I'm drifting when I know I'm not. I'm very much in the middle of all of this and I can't retreat to find comfort.
"So are you willing to talk? Because the next thing isn't going to be as nice as this Lamb."
"Go. Feck. Yourself... You can all go rot..." My voice is horse and strained.
"I really do wish you would just cooperate Ms. O'Connor, it's been eleven days... Price is not coming for you. Why protect him?"
I say nothing keeping my expression stoic, but inside I feel something begins to bleed. It's been slowly cracking slightly oozing something into my veins and to my heart. I'm losing hope, I don't want to think of Price abandoning me but it may be my reality. I get nauseous at that thought, because surely at least one of my team is fighting to come and get me, right?
No, this will get me nowhere. "Go eat a bullet"
"Sergey, you have 3 days with our Lamb here. Why not demonstrate the other event she's going to enjoy with you."
Demetrius walks behind me, grabbing the back of my chair and tilting it back holding it there. Sergey ties a cloth over my face and I instantly know I'm going to have to fight. I hear metal creaking and water rushing, footsteps and splashing getting closer and closer. I take a deep breath at the last possible second.
The water splashes over my face covering the cloth. As soon as I can't hold my breath for any longer I begin to move my head taking deep gasping breaths before moving again. Water invades everything, burning as it goes down my nose and throat, stinging as it rushes across the cut on my cheek. I hold my breath as the water moves across my face, I try to keep my movements subtle. I don't want them to be able to predict me. Eventually the water stops and the rag is removed, the rope around my shoulders is being picked up again.
"Good luck Lamb, Sergey doesn't find pleasure in this work so he'll be changing frequently between the two. I'll see you again in 3 days, hopefully after your time spent with Sergey you'll be more talkative."
I watch as Wolf leaves the room and I feel the rope tighten. There's searing pain all across my neck and a pounding in my head. I'm also incredibly cold, being wet causes the rope to slip and a soft cry escapes my lips as more tears fall from my eyes. I hear Demetrius chuckles darkly and fresh tears fall as my air supply is stolen from me again.
The next chunk of time is numbing. Going back and forth between retreating into my mind to being shunted back out in order to survive drowning it breaks a small part of me. I don't want to give up hope but I can't wait any longer, if I stay any longer I'm going to die. Escaping on my own is just as likely to kill me but there's a chance and I can't hold out any longer.
Wolf drags me back to my original cell, putting me back into the same position as before. He sits down in his chair, dismissing Demetrius and bringing another soldier to stand beside him.
"Oh little Lamb you're losing hope, I can tell. There's a dying spark in your eyes. Do you know how long you've been here?"
I keep my head down, refusing to meet his eye but too tired to keep my head up. I'm so tired, I just want this to stop... But there's only one option that will truly make this stop, I have to escape.
"14 days... Two weeks and nothing from your captain or team. I will leave you for now, let you recover for a few days and think about where your loyalty lies Lamb..." Wolf leaves and so too does the guard.
I have a rough plan on how to get out, Wolf has been true to his words so far. Because of that I've had plenty of time to think and realize that the pipe I'm strung up on is loose. If I can just get enough leverage I'd be able to get myself out. Beyond that it's survival but it's my only chance.
I'm receiving a meal again, once a day or at least that's what I assume the cycle is. There's multiple guards when the meal comes so I can't spring the plan then, but it may be my only hope.
I hear the shifting of my cell door and as I look up through my hair I see Wolf approaching with my food. It's just him in the cell but Demetrius is standing outside smiling at me. I feel nauseous again.
"You've had a day to think Lamb, how are you feeling? Maybe a bit of food will help you better come to the right answer."
"I'd think a lot better if I wasn't strung up like a butchered pig."
"I'd let you down if I could but sadly it is not my call Lamb. If you gave us what we needed then we could let you down Lamb." There's a commotion as multiple armed guards come rushing towards the cell.
"Sir! There is multiple armed soldiers invading cell block A! What should we do?"
My heart leaps to my throat, is it them? Are they finally here? Was I right that they'd come for me!?
"Who are they?"
"Mostly armed militia sir, they're only trying to get to cell block A. Its not the men you warned us about!"
No... No that can't be. Why aren't they here... Why have they left me? What did I do wrong? Surely they're here right? They haven't abandoned me... It's Farah coming to Alex... But do they even know I'm here... Does anyone know... Do they think-
"Send all squads except for A and B squads, they will guard the halls here."
My vision pulls back, back into that safe comforting area of mind that I've scraped and clawed at to keep myself sain. That dark bleeding feeling becomes a flood. I'm not in control, I can't be anymore. I'm not capable of it anymore, so float and sink. The flooding of the black fluid emotion seems to be what's moving me now.
The soldiers rush away and Demetrius turns his back to the cell. Wolf is still sitting in front of me with his back to me and he looks distracted. I grab the chain, pull myself up, swing my body forwards and wrap my legs around Wolf's shoulders. I pulled him towards me so I have better leverage and used that to pry the pipe down.
Once the chain and pipe becomes loose I loop the chain tight around Wolf's neck. And then I pull, putting all of my strength until I feel a pop then keep going until there's another pop and Wolf stops flailing. I drop onto the ground with the body of Wolf underneath me.
I stand, dropping the chains, and grabbing the pipe. Demetrius still has his back to the cell, I move towards the bars. Quickly I get the bar out of the cell and in front of Demetrius, I grab both sides and throw my entire weight back. I can feel him thrashing and clawing at my arms.
"Not so fun being on the other side is it?" I can see the panic in his eyes as he tries to turn his head towards me, something inside me purrs with satisfaction. I throw my weight back once more and hold it until he's no longer moving, until he's no longer breathing, there's a purr again. I check both bodies finding Demetrius's brass knuckles and a knife left in the cell. I cut my hand loose of their bindings and take a moment to let relief flood my system.
I open the cell door and go the opposite way the soldiers ran. My body is moving on its own, going from shadow to shadow. It's like I'm watching from a distance, through a thick fog. Everything is murky and hard to see or hear, but I still know what I'm doing.
I know that I'm currently pressed against a wall listening to three lightly armed guards talk to each other. I can feel the excitement and joy as they split off two and one. I can feel the strain of my body as I grab the guard and pull him towards me. The swift movement of my knife across his throat, the warm coating of blood across my hands. The ache and pain from moving the body to better be hidden.
My body doesn't grab his gun, a part of me understands. I have the element of surprise right now and guns are loud, but I can hear another part of me screaming to grab it. That gun is a safety net and we need that small comfort, it sounds desperate as it please. But whatever is in control doesn't care and keeps moving.
Again finding shadow my body approaches the two guards, they stop and turn their backs to each other and stand facing down two opposite directions. Slowly approaching the one on the right and grabs them. Pivoting so the guard so he's facing his buddies as they scream and shout in Russian. The one not grappled turned and sprayed a spread of bullets hitting his friends. There's warmth spreading across my lower abdomen as the body's blood seeps out all over me and the tattered dirty clothes I'm still wearing. He's still alive so my knife and hands get a fresh coat of red.
Grabbing the dead man's side arm and shooting it twice at the chest of the female guard. The two bodies drop and my body is on the move again. It's odd how different my body is on auto pilot, running purely on instinct, adrenaline, and that dark flooding feeling that is all around me.
I know what it's called, what it is but saying it, acknowledging it feels like it will break something in me. Permanently changing something I could never get back. She knows it and I know it, we both know as well that this is the only way to protect us. So She stays in charge, surviving on feral instincts while I sink slowly deeper into our mind. Escaping further and further away from everything because this is how I'll survive.
She finds more guards, four solo roaming the halls. Each one painted our hands and arms with more red, with each kill I can feel myself sinking further and further away. It's odd I've never allowed Her full control like this, She's always there when I kill. That overwhelming emptiness I feel when I pull the trigger... It scares me every time, so I focus on their humanity and the sadness of ending them. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't.
She finds another two soldiers, dragging the first one away into a shadowy alcove. As soon as the blood on our arms started to cool the other soldier appeared opening fire. The sharp, crystal clear, stab of pain pulls me up to the surface of everything. I have the chance to pull myself into the driver's seat again but it's so comforting to be just drifting. So I let myself sink again, because if I'm going to die then I want to die with whatever comfort I can get... And being adrift in this lonely sea of my mind is the greatest comfort I have.
She moves again tackling our assailant and stabbing into his throat. Standing and moving again we continue down the halls. Then there's the unmistakable sound of rapid gun fire down the hall in front of us. She ducts into the shadows again, slowly moving us towards three figures... All of their backs turned towards us. Distracted by something else and not paying attention to the danger right behind them. I can feel the deep satisfaction She purrs out as it echoes through the waters I'm floating in.
The one furthest back is the first to go as She launches herself onto the back of the first guard. Our knife finds a home in his neck, three times as more red coats more of our body. He's still holding his rifle and all it takes is for her to aim towards the second soldier, his friends impulses do the rest it unloads into number twos back.
I feel myself slipping further away, I can't handle being so close. I can feel everything, the thrumming of pain, the pumping of adrenaline, the warmth of blood soaking my body... The lack of emotions... There's nothing, just death. And that scares me so I sink further below, into the comforts of my mind.
Still holding the body She turns towards the last soldier as he fires repeatedly into his fellow guard's body. Only once he starts to reload his rifle does She begin to move, surging forwards and tackling him to the ground. It's only once we're on the ground that it seems to register that our beloved knife is in the neck of the first guard. Thankfully though we have the brass knuckles from Demetrius's cold corpse.
There's a difference between slicing someone's neck open and beating someone to death. It's a difference I never wanted to know but I do now, I can't seem to slip far enough away. I can feel everything, every crack of bone, every splitting of skin, and every splatter of blood. I force myself further away, I can't deal with this.
She grabs the soldier's knife and stabs it into his chest. I can hear the movement even through the pounding of our heart and our heavy breathing. She turns pulling our new knife from the guard's chest and begins to move towards the last living guard. She stood over him before falling to our knees, one on either side of him.
"No, please... Please! PLEA-" His begging is interrupted as the first stab goes into his back, puncturing a lunge. A lung being stabbed while some is talking isn't a pleasant sound. There's a rushing of garbled air that escapes the mouth. His pleas get quieter and quieter as her stabs get louder and more frequent. Only stopping once the guard stops moving. Something moves in front of us and I can feel the blood thirst spike again.
"O'Connor are you okay?"
Wait I know that voice! We know that voice!
She stands up gripping the knife tightly, that the same purr echoes around me. Excited for more blood...
"Calm down you're hurt, we can get you out!"
No no no no! Stop! We know him! It's Soap! He's a friend! He's our boy!
I try desperately to swim up, I have to gain control. I can't stay here but it's so hard to get out. Why? It's been so easy before to pull myself to the surface and out into control, why has it changed? I can't get to him in time. I watch in horror, trapped in my own mind, as my body moves to kill Soap.
Something large, dark, and strong grapples my body dragging Her away. I see the white skull and panicked blue eye of Ghost. I continue to claw desperately in my own mind. What once was a comfort, a way to keep myself sane and safe, now feels like another prison for me to escape... Because if I don't I may kill my boys.
Ghost gets the knife out of our hand and prevents Her from grabbing his knife attached to the vest he's wearing. I can hear Soap begging for me to calm down and every part of me is screaming the same thing. Ghost is a formidable opponent when sparing but we're evenly matched, though he tends to win a few more rounds. I hope more than anything that today is one of those days that he predicts the winning move right.
She goes to lunge again and Ghost predicts it, dodging to the side before moving to pin our body against the ground. Positioning himself better, he puts me into a headlock before sitting back. He wraps his left leg around and pins our left leg, properly preventing Her from getting any leverage.
"O'Connor please, calm down. It's just me and Johnny, we're not here to hurt you!"
She continues thrashing and growling, I can feel Ghost squeeze harder. I can feel our nails dig into Ghost's arm. At first there was only fabric but then I heard something rip and I could feel flesh. Ghost squeezes harder and the same suffocating feeling overcomes me but this time I truly hope I don't get the chance to resurface. Because I'm not sure I can get back into control in time.
"Calm down O'Connor!"
Slowly the thrashing stops and I can feel myself slipping into unconsciousness. Finally I resurface but I know it's too late so I give into the oblivion of sleep.
I'm floating again, but there's something wrong. This isn't me shielding myself from something happening, this is the familiar in-between of conscious and unconscious. That state where your mind is awake and your body is still out. I focus on what I can remember and panic floods everything, the torturing, my escape, the disconnect getting worse, my feral frenzy, Soap and Ghost. Suddenly the curtain is lifted and I can hear myself screaming.
I'm sitting up, pushed far back against the bed, breathing heavily. I'm in a hospital room not a concrete cell and all the tension and panic is gone. I look to see everyone here, Laswell, Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz and Roach. I feel tears streak down my cheeks as they check in on me and indulge me in a group hug.
Eventually I was discharged and learned I was kidnapped by the Russian ultra nationalist extremist group. They were keeping tabs on Farah hoping to catch Price the next time they interact together... But I was the second best opinion. Farah and Alex visited me in the hospital and explained what happened.
My lieutenant never informed anyone about me going out for a house call despite regulation. It got chaotic and busy very fast. It took Farah going to look for me about two days later to realize I was missing, it was only then that the lieutenant spoke up. Alex manages to track down the young man who lured me away. He learns the young man's sister was being held hostage and that luring me away was the only way she'd be set free.
It took four days to find the prison sight, only for their attempt to break in to fail and gets Alex captured. Farah the entire time was trying to get ahold of someone from the 141, anyone but nothing was going through. By the time Farah managed to get something through Price was already on his way. I feel relief knowing they were looking for me, trying to find me but I feel a bit of resentment towards how long it took. I know logically why it would've taken so long but I can't seem to shake the bitter resentment that has made it's home next to my heart.
Everyone was with me as we had to drive and again I felt myself crying. I hate that I doubted them but that small dark part was whispering that it was a reasonable thing to do. Before we leave the hospital to go back to base, Laswell stops me.
"Maevis, before you return to base I have a massage from Quinn..." There's anxiety in Kate's voice as she hands me a small envelope. "I'm sorry she's had a change of heart. I wanted to tell you before you got to base... You usually try to talk to her and I know you'd likely try..." (My friend no longer wants her OC to be in a lesbian relationship, is okay that happens! Love you Jules)
I spent the ride back to the base thinking; about Quinn, about my most recent experience, about those who've stuck beside me and tried to save me... About the shame and frustration I felt and still feel. There's a whirlwind of a million thoughts and emotions in my head and I can't focus on a single one.
Once back on base Price calls me into his office, we walk together into the room. I sat in front of his desk chair expecting him to sit there, instead he sat in the chair next to me. He had his hands clasped together with his head down causing the shadow from his bucket hat to cover his face.
"John? Wha-"
"I'm sorry it took us so long Maevis... There's no excuse for it. I should have known something was wrong the moment our communication stopped. As soon as you didn't come back from the week deployment I should have pulled everyone back from their ops and looked into it."
"John... You couldn't have known, Farah already told us that their communication was compromised. You also had multiple small operations going that you had to pay attention to. I was the one least likely to be in danger, I had Farah and Alex with me and a full squad dealing with injured civilians. I'm fine now..." I try to keep the tears in but I can feel the warmth of them falling onto my cheeks.
"15 days and 12 hours... You had multiple lacerations, bruising, and rope burns. You were severely starved and was extremely close to death by dehydration. Not to mention the lack of sleep and the cocktail of drugs in your system... You were tortured within an inch of your life and you managed to escape. You don't experience all of that and walk out fine." Price looks at me with that look. The same look he gives he'll give one of the youngsters after a particularly rough day. Thankfully this isn't the first time I've cried in front of Price so I don't feel ashamed or embarrassed.
"That's not the worst part for me though John! I... Sweet Jaesus I thought you'd never come. That you'd left me or that you couldn't find me." Price placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it slightly to comfort me.
"Then Farah's team broke into the wrong cell block and something snapped. I was so confused and hurt... I was angry... I felt... Hopeless like no matter what I was going to die so I at least wanted to die trying to get out of there..." I was struggling to breathe as the words kept tumbling out, I just kept blabbering about everything that happened. Everything came out, I told Price everything that I experienced and how I coped with it.
"I'm sorry Maevis, I'm so sorry..." John pulls me into a long hug after I finish talking. We stayed like that for a while John holding me while I cried into his shoulder. It reminds me of when we were younger, all those rough nights with Will, questioning if I made the right choices. Eventually though I calm down and I leave to debrief some random Superior Officer with everything that happened and what I learned.
An hour and a half of me going into graphic details and some high ranking general asking stupid questions. Once I'm finally dismissed the cantina is closed and I'm not in the mood to go to the rec room so I just walk to my office. I have to replace my bandages anyways. I open my office door to see Gaz sitting in front of my desk. He turns and smiles at me as soon as I close the door.
"You didn't come to dinner and Price told us you had to talk to your COs and answer questions... I noticed you still weren't out of your meeting as the cantina was about to close so I grabbed your dinner..." It was then that I noticed the tray of food on my desk, still warm.
"Thank you Gaz, that's very thoughtful of you." I walk over and sit across from him. We chat for a bit while I eat, he tells me about the mission he and Roach were sent on. It was just some simple recon with plenty of gorgeous views.
"Would you like help with some of your bandages? I know they're difficult to replace alone and I'm already here..." I smile at Gaz before nodding. I'm wearing a tank top with loose pants because of all the bandages and how uncomfortable they are when I wear a turtle neck. Though I have been wearing my hoodie.
It takes a bit and by the time Gaz finishes helping me with my arm and neck it's late into the night. I tell him I can get the rest on my own and that he should go to bed. After Gaz leaves and I finish replacing my bandages I go to bed.
It's been a few days since I've been dismissed from the hospital and put on medical leave. I'm having trouble sleeping consistently so I'm currently out for a late night walk. It was raining earlier today and now it's the perfect weather for a night walk. I'm slowly walking around the outside of the furthest hanger.
I don't see or hear anyone when suddenly there's a figure behind me. I feel myself shunted out of the driver's seat and into that same miasma from before, my vision loses focus and my body reacts before I can even comprehend. I spin and grab the figure shoving them hard against the building. I look to see Roach is who I have pinned.
Roach who has a look of shock and pain written across he face... He has fear in his eyes, he's scared of me. And that realization pulls me back so fast I wonder if I can mental whiplash. I quickly let go of my hold on the boy and step back. Shame floods senses and blurring my vision.
"I- I'm so sorry Roach... I don't know what came over me! Are you okay?" I can hear the fear in my own voice and the tears welling up in my eyes. I try to keep them at bay but they start flowing freely. Because instead of saying or signing anything to me, Roach steps forwards and pulls me into a hug. I cling to him as the tears continue their journey.
"I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to hurt you, to scare you... I don't know why I did that, I've never done that before... I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" It's getting harder and harder to breathe.
"Mom, calm down... Breathe for me yeah?" Roach pulls back a bit and places my hand onto his chest above his heart. I can feel the faintest thumping of his heart and the inhale, exhale of his chest. I unintentionally start breathing in sync with him, calming me down.
"I snuck up on you, you reacted. You didn't hurt me, I was just caught off guard. I wanted to ask if you'd like to walk with me?" I nod not trusting my voice.
We walk together in relative silence, occasionally being broken up by small chats or Ripley barking at Roach to throw her ball. We eventually make our way back into the barracks and split up to go to our different rooms. I'm physically exhausted which helps me shut off my brain a bit and fall asleep easier.
I'm sitting in my office catching up on paperwork when two figures appear in my doorway. I look up to see Ghost and Soap walking in and sitting across from me at my desk. I set aside what I was doing to give the duo my full attention.
"I wanted to say thank you for getting me out of that prison and I'm sorry for attac-"
"Don't apologize Doc" Ghost cuts me off and Soap nods in agreement. Soap stares at me, like he's looking for something before speaking.
"LT said it best, you weren't yourself. Whatever attacked us was running on pure instinct alone... Though that was scary as hell, you were horrifying. I'd say almost as scary as Ghost!" Soap was smiling as Ghost gave the sergeant a slight shove on his shoulder.
"But seriously I don't ever want to be in your sights like that again. You looked ready to tear my head off and play football with it, if Ghost hadn't jumped in when he did." Soap got this far off look before he continued to speak. "I really hope none of us have to see you like that ever again... It felt so wrong to watch you act so ruthless."
" I'm sorry you had to witness that... It scared me too, I didn't feel in control at all. It was like I was locked away in my own head watching my body react without my input... I hated it." Ghost nods his head with this knowing look in his eyes.
"Doc... Roach told me about last night, he told me you had the same look in your eyes..." I look at Ghost and he has a familiar glint in his eyes.
"While I was..." I make a vague gesture. "Anytime it got to be too much I slipped into my head, it was the only place that felt safe." I focused on a spot behind their heads. I felt like I couldn't look at them as I talked about this.
"Eventually I just stayed there, only resurfacing to listen to that bastard talk. But there was something breaking that I couldn't fix... And then the dam broke and I just kept sinking further and further down..." I felt the warmth of fresh tears on my cheeks and I just want to curl into myself.
"Is it fixed? The dam?"
"I don't think so, there's still a leak I can feel it slowly oozing near my heart. It was worse the first few days in the hospital..."
"What will it take for that dam to break again? Will it break again..."
"I don't know honestly... It will... Now that it's broken I don't think I can go back to normal." I look at Ghost and we maintain eye contact, silently acknowledging each other.
"How do we help you when it happens again Doc?"
"Knock me out, after that... I'm not sure... I've been struggling to figure out how to cope with everything. I'm still physically recovering so I can't really do what I'd normally do. I can't workout or go to the range and I can't just throw myself into a mission because I've been sidelined." I rub my temples as I think a bit more before sighing.
"Usually I'd read but I haven't gone into town to buy any new books... Though I suppose I can, now that I'm sidelined for a bit."
"Then that's what you do Doc... Trust me it takes some time to get back to some form of normalcy after something like that. You won't be the same, there's permanent changes from what happened." Ghost has the same sad look in his eyes, every time I look at him since I've woken up in the hospital.
It's not a look of pity, it's a look of understanding. Like he knows exactly what I went through and I know he does. He probably understands better than anyone even me. There's a sense of camaraderie between us now... A camaraderie that neither of us wanted the other to understand, but sadly that's not the case. Instead it's nice to know that there's someone here who can intimately understand the why behind something.
I'm not alone, a sad but comforting fact.
#captain john price#gary roach sanderson#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#kate laswell#farah karim#alex keller#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#cod soap#cod roach#cod ghost#cod gaz#cod price#codmw#cod mwii#cod 141#cod au#cod#cod original character#call of duty mw2#modern warfare#task force 141#cannon divergence#ocs#original character
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RULE
#rule#196#Boy this is a lot of notes for something I DIDN'T MAKE#also if you know the sauce tell me plz#Btw ill be working on smut comics about robots fucking in the apocalypse#Other stuff too but thats up first#I promise I'll not let you down#If i see one more person respond to this with Disco Elysium im going to fuckin SNAP
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garam wasn't sure when exactly he fell asleep, he just knew that he was holding onto angel's shirt as if his life depended on it. by the time he'd woken up, the sunlight was just barely flooding into the room. a ray decided to shine specifically on his face through a small gap between the curtains, rude. before his eyes opened, he reached out to the spot where angel had laid, thinking he would still find the man laying there. but no matter how far over he patted around, the space was indeed empty. garam was disappointed but only because he hoped that he would be the one to wake up first so he could surprise angel with breakfast in bed. it would have been both an act to show his gratitude for what angel has done for him and a starting point for a long line of apologies he knew needed to be made. getting out of bed would have been more difficult for him if only the sun wasn't shining in his face, the man managed to pull himself out of bed and sleepily made his way down the hallway with the intentions of getting water from the kitchen before scrounging around for tylenol. what he wasn't expecting was to find angel with another man in the kitchen. he'd only caught half of what the other man said before angel spoke. garam stopped in his tracks the moment once his name was noted, wishing he would have just been a few seconds slower so he wouldn't have walked in to this point of their conversation. garam just stood there staring at the two men in the kitchen, his brain not functioning as quickly as he wanted it to which left him silent for a moment. "i'm guessing i wasn't supposed to hear that." he stated, his attention diverting as his eyes sort of just drifted away. garam was used to people talking about him behind his back, that sort of judgment came with the the job he chose for himself. being popular on the internet wasn't always good because, with fans, you had your haters, too. it just wasn't something he had to deal with in person. even if angel was defending him, the two men were still talking about him with the other man speaking ill of him. he sucked air through his teeth, unable to stop himself from feeling awkward. "should i just go home?" garam whispered, pulling at the sleeves of his shirt to tuck his hands inside. it was the only thing he could do to make himself appear smaller, as if he wanted less of himself visible, as if that would make him feel safer. "maybe he can stay with you, surely he's not using you for anything." he didn't understand how darius thought he was using angel for anything, it made him wonder what exactly angel had been telling the other man. angel wouldn't make things up, garam was certain of that. but he must have said something, maybe garam did or said something last night that would give angel the wrong impression. his heart began to race, each breath taken quickened as he wracked his brain, trying to think back on everything he said or did last night.
Every muscle in Angel’s body tensed when the man asked if he could hold him. Not knowing how to respond, he simply nodded. However, his body betrayed him as his hands began to shake. The dark-haired man felt he could barely breathe at the thought of someone holding him. Ever since that night, he had worked hard to control every situation. He took a leave of absence from his job and avoided crowded places or being alone with anyone he didn’t trust. But he trusted Garam. Or so he thought. Every touch brought him back to that night—the clammy hands that had grabbed at him, the nails digging into his skin. Angel had been so focused on making Garam feel okay that he was pushing down every emotion within himself. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat but ended up gagging. His hands slapped over his mouth as his face twisted in distress. Angel could never see Garam as selfish; he cherished the man so much that, in his mind, Garam could do no wrong—even to Angel's own detriment. He took deep breaths to calm himself, each exhale shaky and unsteady. He didn’t move, watching Garam as he lowered his hands and whispered an apology. Angel gave another tight-lipped smile. Pretending he was okay was becoming second true to time. It was easier than the alternative. After a moment, Angel managed to regain his composure and shifted closer to Garam. He didn’t touch him, allowing Garam to initiate contact. His mind raced as he replayed their entire night, and he felt regret for sending his friend away. Having a buffer here would have made everything easier. Someone to tell him if he was making the right decisions. Angel closed his eyes feeling slight dizziness. He chalked it up to the alcohol but before he knew it he was asleep. He hadn’t slept since that night. Drinking until he eventually passed out. Awoken by his content night terrors. But tonight the night terrors held him in his dream state. Sweating and muttering in his sleep. Eventually, he managed to wake himself up, jumping up. His body felt as if it was stuck there. Even as his eyes opened his body betrayed him and did not move. As his body finally moved he glanced over at Garam in his bed. He stared blankly for a moment before the alcohol the night before hit him. The pounding in his head pushed a groan to fall from his lips as he grabbed his phone and shuffled to the bathroom. It was early, too early as he glanced out the window to see barely any light shining through. He grabbed some medication he had stored away and tossed them in his mouth. Angel leaned down as he turned on the facet and drank the pills down. The night before was sort of a blur but the pieces were there. The first person in his mind was Darius, texting to ask him to escort them to Garam’s place. To his surprise, the man was awake as his phone chimed almost immediately. Squeezing his phone he let out a sigh of relief as the man said he was on his way now. His new friend’s comfort had been needed during this time. But the guilt still ate away at him. He knew how the other man felt. However, not being able to lean on his best friend he needed someone. Before he knew it he was in the kitchen cooking with the other man as he was lectured about letting Garam sleep in his room. “Angel, I’m not saying you shouldn’t be there for your best friend. I think your feelings for him are clouding what’s really going on here. He’s using you” Darius had his arms crossed leaning against the counter as the man cooked. Angel was quiet over the stove. His face was blank as the man spoke. All he could say was, “Garam wouldn’t do that”
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I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently
#facebook always does that 'here's a post from this day 8 years ago' thing. and I see old comments interacting#with people and it's so like.. OOOOO~~ where are they now?? what's going on? how much have they changed as people?#how much are they the same? this is fascinating. i should contact them!!' but then it's like... take that to it's logical conclusion though#you would contact them and then IF they even responded it would take you 80 years to respond and then they would#think there was something wrong or that you were trying to be insulting or something. To contact anyone I need to include an 85 page#disclaimer of all of my social issues & mental illness things. 'If i take 3 weeks to reply I promise it has nothing to do with u' etc lol#THIS is why more people need to be into phone calls/voice calls/some form of audio real time communication/etc.#I think one of the main things that's hard about messaging through text for me is it's so unscheduled and open ended#(plus it takes forever if you're talking about anything in detail and gets very long very quickly)#because like you can send a message and then just get a reply whenever. and then you're expected to reply back whenever#so it's like you never know when the response will come or when a new obligation to reply can come up? so it's like this sudden thing with#no outline?? if that makes sense. whereas a phone call is very like 'hello let's schedule a call from 10am - 2pm on thursday'. And you know#EXACTLY when the interaction will start and EXACTLY when it will end and you can plan around it in your schedule easily.#I have the reverse thing of a lot of people (how people don't pick up phone calls/hate calls/only text)#I would literally talk on the phone with a stranger. I would have a discord voice chat with someone I barely know.#if someone I hardly even remember from elementary school asked to have a voice call with me out of nowhere I would do it.#but if a stranger MESSAGED me?? or someone I barely know sent me a TEXT or something?? I will never reply probably#It's just too vague and weird. and you can't read voice tone over text. and the interaction could last forever with no clear end#point and etc. etc. But a call is like. set. established. clear boundaries. you can read the flow of conversation better. rapport. etc. etc#I get that I guess people feel more anonymous or distanced over text?? but you can have fake phone numbers on the computer. or do like disc#rd calls. or zoom without a camera or etc. etc. Also the distance that's present in text is BAD distance because it just means that tone is#not conveyed properly and you will never truly get a sense of the person's conversational vibe or mannerisms or how well you really click.#ANYWAY ghgjh...... I'm so so so interested in concepts of like.. How did that one kid I used to talk to in elementary school#but then they moved away in 5th grade - how did they end up? what are they doing now?? etc. etc. Like despite the severe social anhedonia#and general lack of connection with others I'm just really fascinated in like.. idk. the human development of it all and like#the concept of how we're actually a million different people through the course of our lives ever evolving in different iterations and etc.#PLUS again. i love nostalgia. sometimes old peple you know might remember a shared memory or can tell you about something you forgot#or etc. like it's SUCH A COOL THING in CONCEPT but I am too socially inept generally speaking lol. which people I still talk to today are#familiar with my 'phone call once every few months' communication style. but strangers would just be like... wtf. And I don't blame them#Sure I literally cannot change the physical health + brain issues i have - but also I know enough to not put others through that lol
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*Something poetic about the duality of humans or the impact our environment has on our behaviours and lifestyles*
#hazbin hotel#sir pentious#been wanting to do something that compares their design for like 5 or 6 months#and yet again I’d hid a bunch of details with the shading#I mean atleast you can still tell his fangs are different lengths#he’s fun to draw anyway#snake tails are fun x I hope he looks like a stuffed sock because that’s what I wanted#he’s so interesting as a character I used to hate him and now he is one of my favourites#he sucked being a sinner and I hope he continues to suck being a winner now#like he was so soft and goofy down below but up too maybe he’s too chaotic and has too dark a humour idk#it must be hard to be thrust into a pit for close to a century and a half and then placed somewhere else#and we may see some of his human life but if he was in his he’ll form for a century longer where does the real you start#and where does the person you where forced to be even begin#anyway I am spinning this around in my head like a microwave#also I hand spotted every scale and then at the end realise it looks like my sparkle brush but f it it’s too late#added over an hour onto my usual shading time but it’s cute so idk#ill stop rambling now….
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the urge to watch the pico park 2 videos vs the fact that inviting 7 friend over to play 8 person pico park is both my kind of torture and fun and itd be so much better if i wasnt spoiled
#nics rambles#8 person pico park was. something ill tell you#we almost finished the game but we had to go outside because it was making us all too mad lmao
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on that subject, obsessed with today when i was like "hey guys, can you two stop playing the jumping game for now because it's giving caden a headache" and my 6 yr old cousin is like "you mean 'me'. it's giving 'me' a headache, because your caden". it's like yeah man ur right. my bad . and then they stopped jumping. it was awesome
#the thing is like. the jumping hurt my headright away#but i let them do it for a while before they told them to stop. and then they did#and i think thats part of it too. for somw things you have to wait and let kids have whay they want for a while before swooping in and#asking for them to stop#so they dont feel super controlled#and like. as an autistic person I HAVE TO DO THAT ANYWAY USUALLY#there's so many adult people out there who i have to put up witj their noises because i KNOW if i ask for them to stop theyll get mad#or even on a lesser extent. like as an autistic person w my sorta issues. you have to a let a lot of things go that are genuenly painful#and stressful. bc if u ask people to do things too much they often get upset. even if theyre overall nice#same with kids#but with kids you get to ask them to stop way more and you get to ask earlier than you would with most adults#like. ill be trying to put up with somethinf and struggling and get to the ppont where im visibly shaking and stuttering and on the verge#of tears#and the mere request of 'could you turn the tv ofd#still gets whole ass adults telling me im entitled and bossy#meanwhile child will hear 'thats making me feel bad' and theyll hear that and theyll think about it#and often times theyll stop#and even when they dont they dont insult you!#and people still say little kids are annoying????#when i tell a little kid 'could you turn the sound off on the video game or take it to another room the sounds its making are upsetting me#they LISTEN.#adults have a strong tendency to#use the ironicallt imature logic of ' i like this thing. so it dosent matter if it is upsetting you. i like it so i want to have it. even#though we are in a shared space together. i wont change what im doing because i want to do the thing i like. and thats more important than#not upsetting you. because doing the thing i like makes ME feel good.'#like. litterallt this mindset is easily more promient in adults than small children 100% . on god#and its just about the most childish thing ever.#its understandable. but its immature#and with something this simple its silly people cant let that go. its not complex at all. its stop making noise it is hurting me. easy
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how do i do it though. how do i let go of the bitterness and the hardness when they kept me "okay" for so long? does it come when i finally leave? can it ever?
#babes i actually relate to the frigid angry woman more than im comfortable with but this time there's no prince coming to save her and idk#i was never beautiful but i was and am angry and capable and that's served me well but being angry is exhausting#it's a birthright i can't give to a younger sibling. it doesn't transfer.#i dont inspire devotion. there's no version of this that ends with me waltzing with a true love.#im not the type you launch a thousand ships for.#so what's left?#who am i when i have no one? when ive spent my life making *me* less to make others more? when im nothing but a useful piece of furniture.#i know God loves me! i love Him! but it's not the same. i want *people* to love me. i want to be someone that theyd fight for.#im feeling that 'women have minds and hearts but im so lonely' scene from little women 2019 so much right now.#except im not jo. my family loves me but theyd never do for me what jo's would do for her. theyre also all focused on surviving.#i feel like a military ration. there to be consumed but cast aside the moment something more palatable comes around.#how do i become consumed with joy? how do i let go of the cynicism? its all thats kept me safe! but its choking me too.#its like tony stark in iron man 2. the thing thats kept me alive this far is killing me. i need to find an alternative but its looking like#ill have to synthesize a new element to make it happen and that freaks me out.#ive always been derivative. never an individual. how do i become a trailblazer when my job was always to hold the hand of the one blazing#the trail? how do i become myself happy and free?#because i WANT to be more#i WANT to be more than anger and coldness and a useful idiot. i WANT to be me and be so so happy#but i dont know how to get there#and if someone suggests therapy im shooting you. i dont want to listen to one more person pretend to care about me and tell me#all the things i need to change and spend even longer not learning how to think for myself#i want to be more than this. but i also cant stand the thought of taking up any more space than i do#anyway.#anyone who's read all this thank you and i promise im fine im just in my feelings today lol#im going to work out and get some happy brain chemicals flowing and then ill take a shower and itll all be good.#please dont worry about me! im just having A Moment TM#lilac rambles
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I mean this from a social perspective not a health one : why does everything feel weird right now. Like yes I’m heartbroken about the reality of my position in the lives of my so called friends but now I just feel confused. I don’t understand why I’m not important and why I can’t change to be important to others, nor what makes a person important either.
#like okay yeah I’ve been lowkey crying in the middle of the night because of how unimportant I feel but that’s down pat now we get it#I just want to know why am I not ? like am I doing something wrong ? I could’ve sworn I’m trying my best to not be annoying frustrating and#to be there but the reality of things is that I can’t always be there given my condition#sometimes I wonder how hard it is to ask me a simple ‘are you okay’ or ‘how are you’ or god forbid that I am missed lmao pls fniesksn ignore#the last one I think that’s too much but at least the other two#I don’t want to tell people to ask me these because then it feels fake and that they’re doing it just for the sake of getting me to shut up#about it but I don’t know#dora daily#a reason why I hate insta with my whole life because it just never fails to prove how worthless I really am#like I could’ve died yk … and it’d still be the sahara desert there#anyways I like being alone a lot something I’ve found out about myself#(I hate it actually but I only like it because I cannot make myself do anything like even talking seems so very exhausting so I can manage#with the loneliness when I’m ill but I can’t cope with it when I’m even a smidge better)#sigh.#just sigh. where did I get my friends from and why does everyone seem to love their friends so much but I cannot#don’t get me wrong I talk about how much I love them to everyone and if I don’t I obsess abt them in my head but it is not reciprocated to#be honest. not at all#and that’s what makes me sad. I still love them because I love unconditionally it seems#but from a conditional viewpoint they do not cut it#and that makes me disappointed#that’s why I’d kill to be loved or heck even remotely liked the way I like others even half of that yk#I am not a good person in my eyes but I would do so much just to be liked like that I wish I knew why I’m not worth being liked only worthy#of being tolerated.
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going back through some of this fandom's history has made me realise, we really see people as black and white good or bad don't we?
#like i hope we're getting better (i think we are)#but it has me wondering. how much fandom treatment of 5sos partners was based off one specific incident#but also shaped how people viewed that one specific incident?#i'm glad we want our faves to be well and happy. i just think we also are not immune to misogyny sometimes#guess who just watched the lie to me mv for the first time ever#it's important that people get to tell their stories don't get me wrong. and there was a lot of authenticity in this#however if our instinct is to just totally not ever believe women we also have to ask ourselves why#at least people were really glad for sierra at the time? but look how that went. she was human and people turned on her too#these things can both be true. sometimes women to genuinely bad things. AND we hold women to impossible standards#and then dehumanise them the minute we do something wrong#which is bound to happen at some point!#also. someone can still be a good person and not make good decisions 100% of the time. think about that before you disregard#something someone says being like 'my fave would never they must be lying' why is lying our go-to? yes they might be lying but#this shouldn't be our assumption. just because people are reluctant to admit our faves might not be Completely Perfect#fwiw i think rn we're doing a lot better in terms of that though. in terms of destigmatising mental illness and addiction too#it's just. reality is often just complicated? no one's all good or all bad. yes people should be free to tell the story of their experience#but in order to be ethical consumers of their story we need to realise that just because it highlights one aspect of someone#it doesn't mean that's all there is to them. and it doesn't mean that's all there is to the story either (even though it's not false!)#like how we're been discussing in swiftie spaces. storytelling is GOING TO BE BIASED. when we acknowledge that we won't be as reactive
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Mmmhh...
#(Basically rant on my last two posts)#I know I've said it before and sorry for coming off as annoying–#but I really wish we still had a central bsd blog on Tumblr like fy-bungoustraydogs or bsd-central or things of the kind.#I think now everyone rushes to post news first. And although there's merit to it in knowing news as soon as they happen‚#in the long run the death of this kind of central official content ***fan*** blogs is such a huge loss of fandom spaces‚#especially for the archiving purposes they solved. Especially today that T/witter and G/oogle have basically become unusable.#Literally. Literally. I've been doing official content archiving since I was 11#(because that's the very specific kind of mental illness I have)#and let me tell you that the quality of web search and especially reverse image search only got worse–#in a way that is very evident and noticeable. Which is crazy tbh and not how things should work.#If anyone would like to start a bsd-central kind of blog I'll be the first one to follow.#Actually if anyone actually wants to establish it feel free to contact me and I'll be more than happy to share the resources I have!!!!#It just needs to be something multi-modded for a series of reasons I won't get into right now#I just can't personally do it (not as main admin at least) because that would be modding my FIFTH active bsd blog–#and that's a little too much even for me.#On top of some ethical concerns I have regarding whether it'd be fair for me to mod a fandom central bsd blog–#when I feel like I can't genuinely share the same amount of love for the franchise other fans share#On top of. You know. Getting a degree eventually hopefully.#Then years after the blog has been solidly enstablished and aquired enough credibility it could even open a free donations found to invest–#in buying and scanning and releasing bsd content that hasn't been shared yet like the guidebooks or illustration books or everything else–#for everyone to see...#The dream. (Is realistically never going to happen) (Won't stop me from daydreaming about it every day)#((Still salty I couldn't afford the guidebooks only due to the shipment prices. I *would* have scanned and uploaded them.))#That was a long and idealistic rant. Kyotag out#Edit: *Modding my SIXTH bsd blog#Apparently I mod so many blogs I lost count of them
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