#They wont leave my mind. help | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buk-kakyoin · 8 months

Text

Magnus Protocol Theory —

(Spoilers up to ep. 5)

I think I've figured out the catch of OIAR staff being able to "quit at any time"

It's not immediately obvious why they can't quit the same way it was in TMA because, well, Teddy quits in the first episode! And he seems quite content with fucking off from the OIAR and never coming back, but he has this exchange with Collin:

TEDDY Colin, mate, you know you’re never getting out of here. COLIN Christ, don’t say that. TEDDY Even if his nibs lets you off the hook, which he won’t, you couldn’t bring yourself to just leave. Not 'til you’ve figured out all these fun little errors. COLIN Or they finally kill me. TEDDY I mean, sure, that too.

What do they know that we don't?

Bear with me on this one, but I suspect it has to do with how the Fears function in this world. I've been seeing quite a few theories floating around saying that the Fears in this world are more likely tied to Desire and I think they're right.

Every story so far has been driven by some kind of want or yearn or need—the yearn to hear a dead lover's voice, the need to understand why a place is marked "cleared," the desire to look different, the need to hide from the repercussion of your actions, the hunger for recognition as the best, the itch to feel real fear. Every time, the supernatural experiences commence after a desire(or obsession) is expressed, and every desire is granted in the most fucked up Monkey's Paw way possible.

How does this apply to our merry band of fucked up civil servants? Why are they still here?

Well, Collin's not gonna quit until he makes sense of the computers, and we're already seeing the negative effects this obsession has on him. Gwen wants Lena's job and to be the best of the department (and possible something else that we're not privy to yet). Sam wants answers to whatever the fuck is wrong with the OIAR/their cases and likely has some personal obsessions involved (*cough cough*the Magnus Protocol*cough cough*)

Alice is a bit of an outlier since she doesn't have any obvious "wants" that we've seen, but she seems way more conscious of what this job does to people than the others. From telling Sam to report Collin's behavior to telling Same this:

ALICE I wasn’t messing with you earlier, you do need to compartmentalize for this job. Make a box in your head and at the end of the shift you dump everything in there and hit the incinerate button okay? You do not want to be thinking about this stuff outside of here. It’s not good for you. I’ve seen people go weird before now.

Alice seems to at least somewhat understand what's going on—she's seen people go "weird" and knows that getting obsessed is dangerous, which is why she herself tries to stay as separate from the work as possible, tells Sam to do the same, and why I suspect she tries to have Collin reported(to keep him from sinking any deeper). But I suspect Alice is ensnared in her own way, possibly by the brother she keeps fielding calls from at work.

It's not a whole lot to go off of yet, but she keeps referencing her next paycheck while talking to him and overall implies than her brother musical career is unsuccessful but that it might turn around soon. Maybe she stays working there because she wants to support herself and support her brother's career?

Tl;dr the fears in his world are based in desires and obsession. Technically, anyone can quit the OIAR and they do—so long as they don't get obsessed. And if they do get obsessed, they won't stop until they either get what they want or, as Collin said, they die.

#the magnus protocol spoilers #tmagp #tmagp theory #okay maybe this theory was obvious to everyone else but it didnt fully click in my head until this last episode #when Sam goes to report Collin and Lena tell him that Collin will either ask for help or eventually quit #and that the problem will be resolved either way #and idk why her saying that made something click in my brain bc well #he WONT do either. we know this #so what then? whats the third option? why wont he give up and leave? why wont any of them give up and leave???#bc they cant. they can't because none of them have what they want yet!#I'm losing my mind a bit lmao #the magnus protocol #juno expounds

45 notes · View notes

pigeonwhumps · 6 months

Text

Capture

Taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

WoW birthday event: used as bait | held for ransom | "it's a trap!"

Erik invites Cedric and his slave around for the evening.

1.9k

CWs: slavery, beating, whipping, non-consensual nudity (non-sexual), captivity, whumper pov, use of the word 'bitch', punching, bruises, drinking, drugging

Cedric yanks open the door to the boiler cupboard and claps his hands together twice, sharply. The eyes of the choppy-haired girl curled up on the hard floorboards snap open and she scrambles out, not quite fast enough to avoid the encouraging kick to her lower back.

"Look sharp, Savannah. Erik's invited us round this afternoon and I need you to look better than that."

He looks Savannah up and down. She's only ever allowed to wear black tank tops, shorts and either a bra or binder when they're at home, and her hair is still mangled from when she was a little bitch and hacked it off (she doesn't dare do that anymore). Her appearance isn't entirely her fault, but he does love how much she shrinks when he comments on it.

"Yes, sir."

"Follow me then. Quickly now."

Savannah bows low and follows hot on his heels. He doesn't look back - she doesn't need it anymore. He unlocks the door to her small bathroom, containing a toilet, sink, cold shower, and very little else. The only lock is a deadbolt on the outside. The plumber had looked at him oddly when he'd had it installed.

"Shower. Dress. Kitchen in five minutes."

She shuts the door, and he strolls to the kitchen, sinking down onto the worn chair. It's early afternoon already. He'll have Savannah make him a sandwich, then they can set off.

Five minutes later almost exactly, Savannah enters the room. Her hair is shinier now, and she's in a cute little blouse, cardigan and skirt.

"That's better. Ham sandwich and then you can take the beers to the car. I hope for your sake it's tidier this time."

"Yes sir."

Savannah fixes a quick sandwich, before bracing herself and hefting the large case of beers into her arms, staggering slightly at its weight. Cedric smirks, watching her legs. She has wood nymph blood in her, as much as anyone does these days. He's glad he bought this particular broken girl from Erik to be trained as his slave, even if she's had a few relapses.

She's waiting by the jeep when he gets there, perfectly poised with her hands behind her back and eyes on the ground. Cedric looks inside the jeep. Then he turns back to stare at her.

"Really, Savannah? Does this look clean to you?"

She hesitates. "Yes, sir?"

He cuffs her hard around the head. "Try again."

"No, sir."

"Better. You can clean it and receive a suitable punishment later. For now, get in the back. You won't get any dirtier there than in the rest of this vehicle."

Savannah obeys, climbing inside with the case of beer, hugging her legs.

It's a bumpy journey, and Cedric relishes every one, knowing Savannah is suffering for her sloppiness. Stupid girl.

Savannah staggers a little upon exiting, legs probably stiff, but lifts the beers without complaint. Cedric smiles. Her eyes don't even flicker towards the trees anymore. Erik broke her well.

Cedric rolls his eyes at Erik's ring doorbell as he presses it. He has cameras everywhere, it's so excessive.

Kieran, Erik's slave, opens the door, scrambling backwards to usher them in but not in time to avoid Cedric's punch to the chest. He strides past him as the boy doubles over.

Savannah's footsteps don't falter behind him. Good.

"Show us the way, then, Kieran. Unless you want your owner to think we had to do it ourselves?"

Kieran scrambles in front of Cedric and Savannah, still winded. Cedric smiles. He still resents the fact that Savannah is more afraid of Erik than him, her owner, but he can't take it out on Erik. The boy however...

Erik smiles as they all enter.

"Cedric! It's been too long. I'm glad to see you still have the slave I sold you, it would be a shame never to see her again. She was prettier with long hair, but each to their own. Leave us a few beers and put the rest in the fridge. And fetch the snacks, both of you."

"Yes sir."

The boy just nods. He hasn't changed much since they last met up, wearing a t-shirt and trousers with long, dark, twisty hair, with a few extra bruises. Erik has never avoided the face.

Cedric plops himself down on the leather couch and accepts a beer, taking a long swig. "Cheers."

Erik smirks. "Savannah giving you a hard time?"

"Nah. Hard week at work. I'll get her to give me a massage or something. How's your boy? Misbehaving?"

Erik shrugs. "Entertainment. And he needs reminders sometimes. All slaves do."

"Still don't regret keeping him?"

"Never will. Even the special projects I rarely keep, but I trained him perfectly for my needs and he's excellent. I'll need a new special project soon though. The space is looking rather sad without one."

The slaves come back in, carrying a plate of tortilla chips and another of dips. Cedric tries some and grins. The fear in both slaves' eyes is the perfect complement.

"Yeah, okay, I see what you like about him." He takes another swig of beer. "What shall we play?"

Erik throws his controller across the room. The slaves both duck, Kieran not quite managing in time as it grazes the top of his head. Savannah steadies him.

Cedric is well past tipsy and heading towards totally sloshed. He must've drunk more than he thought.

He snaps his fingers sloppily. "Girl, beer."

"Yes, sir." She obeys, pressing one into his hand. He drinks as much as he can in one gulp and then dumps the rest of the can over her. "Oops. Must be time for strip poker."

Erik smiles. "Kieran, fetch the cards and deal."

Kieran does so. They have... roughly the same amount of clothes, it's fine.

Erik loses the first hand.

"Clothes off, Kieran. M'choice. Top."

The boy pulls his t-shirt off. He turns his back, as is traditional, and Cedric whistles, sobering up slightly. The criss-cross of scars, the colours and textures and areas where they meet and overlap... it's beautiful. Amazing work.

"How did you create that?"

"Trade secret. Maybe I'll show you one day."

Oh, he'd love that.

The game passes in a bit of a blur after that. He knows his slave ends up completely naked, serving drinks and snacks with the same poise she had before, and then the boy removes the last of his underwear because it's only fair. He knows that he confesses to Savannah's occasional bitchy fits and, with encouragement, beats her clumsily with Kieran's belt.

"Hey, Cedric, what do you say I show you my special project workshop? You keep asking."

"Surreee."

"Kieran, help me get him upright. I don't think he can stand properly." Erik mutters something Cedric can't make out. Kieran obeys, and the floor seems to sway and swirl under Cedric's feet but somehow the slaves are staying upright.

He envies that.

It's only Erik with him now, who pulls an arm around his shoulders to help move him along. It's… it should be cold outside. Should it? He isn't.

There's a shed that feels so far away. He blinks, watching it blur. No, there's two sheds. Odd. Do sheds usually duplicate?

Then he's inside the shed. It's darker in there, things he can't make out. It feels unnatural. A shiver runs down his spine.

He wants to leave, suddenly, he'd much rather see it in daylight. His knees buckle before he can do anything about it.

“Finally,” mutters Erik from somewhere far away. “I thought you were never going to succumb.”

Cedric's vision finally goes, and with that the rest of the world.

Cedric wakes.

His head throbs like he's been on the biggest bender of his life. His knees hurt too, and his arms are numb. Must've been a hell of a night.

Doesn't feel like he's anywhere comfortable though. Where is he?

“Oh, finally! You're awake!”

The voice is too loud, but he recognises it and forces his eyes open, trying to figure out where it's from. Maybe he had someone over last night.

But then… he visited Erik, didn't he?

There's a dark silhouette moving around the dimly-lit room, and then his head pounds, eyes burning as a bare bulb flicks on directly above him.

The floor is bare earth, a pile of cages and tools in one corner. Cedric's on his knees, arms suspended above his head, naked except for what looks like a hospital wristband but black and sturdier.

Erik's in front of him, wearing a grin unsettlingly past ecstatic.

“What the hell?”

“You wanted to see my special project shed. This is it.”

Cedric growls. “I'm not your fucking ‘special project’. Let me down.”

Erik clucks his tongue. “You know better than to make demands. I'll let you down when I'm good and ready.”

Cedric snarls. Why's he even here? He's not a slave, he's not one of those pathetic losers fool enough to be captured by Erik. He's not weak or cowardly, like they are, he wouldn't let himself be broken and kept.

Wouldn't let himself get taken.

Hang on a fucking second.

“Did you drug me?”

“Took you long enough to cotton on. I always thought you were at least a little smarter than that.”

“Fuck off.”

“Now, now. That's not how we do things around here. And I don't give adjustments periods. Let me show you my baby.” Cedric narrows his eyes as Erik crosses behind him and comes back carrying a long, braided rope, split into nine in the middle. And each of the nine strands is in itself braided with–

“Fucking shards of glass?”

“I said I'd show you how I made Kieran’s scars. Quite something, isn't she? She's mostly reserved for my special projects, unless a regular victim gets too cocky. Lucky you, getting to experience her first-hand.”

Cedric responds by grasping the ropes tight and struggling to his feet. There isn't much to hold onto but he manages to get his legs under him, standing shakily. He needs to get out of here. And then he can get his bitch back and rain down hell on Erik and the boy for all of this. Admittedly he's not sure what the boy has to do with it apart from having the misfortune of being here at the time, but Cedric is still going to give him hell for it.

And then his legs are kicked back out from under him and he collapses back to the ground.

“You're going to be fun.”

Fun, thinks Cedric. Yeah. But why does Erik want him? Everyone's fun to break. Savannah has forest nymph blood, Kieran's part ceasg, but Cedric's completely human. Nobody buys full-blooded humans from Erik, that's not his business model.

Erik pulls him back to his feet and pushes him against a stout wooden pole that Cedric had been wondering about, tying his arms around it tightly. He growls, struggling.

“Temper, temper. We'll break that from you. Gotta say, I haven't been this excited about a special project in a long time.” He flexes the whip a little. “What do you say we get started? We need to figure out your baseline tolerances, so this whipping is going to be a little different. I'll keep going until you can't take any more. And I'd usually bring in someone newly-broken for this part, as a test, but I thought you'd like to see a familiar face. Meet Megan.”

Cedric hadn't heard anyone behind him – curse the customarily-silent wood nymph footsteps – but then Savannah comes into view. She's clean again, any injuries hidden, in a fitted t-shirt and long shorts.

“You look disgusting,” he snarls. She shrinks backwards, arms not quite coming up to hug herself but not quite not, either.

“Megan, get a grip. Take a seat. It's this man's whipping, not your own.”

“You can't just go changing my slave's name!” he cries, outraged. “And my name is Cedric.”

“She isn't yours anymore. Nor is that your name. Your *number* is now 197, until I sell you and then it's their decision. Now, let's start with your baseline whipping tolerance. Megan, do not lose count.”

Despite the humiliation, Cedric smirks at her. He's going to take that as a challenge.

From her seat on the dirt floor, Megan flinches but looks up at him determinedly, fear-filled eyes focused just off to his right. That's where Erik must be standing, then.

The whip hisses through the air and Cedric has a split-second warning before all nine ends land on his back.

All the breath is forced out of him and he arches his back. The glass tears into him, shredding the skin and flesh even beyond what the rope alone can do.

“One.”

“Louder, sweetheart, I need to know. It's not your whipping.”

The next hit is harder, rope abrasive, skinning, glass digging into flesh where the skin’s already gone. It rips a scream from his throat, one that should surely bring people running.

“T-two.”

“Better.”

Cedric gives up listening after that. If his bitch of a slave is allowed to sit and watch while he's whipped, Erik isn't likely to say anything sensible. He'll have to be alone before he can do anything.

But he's out cold well before that.

#whump #whump writing #wow birthday whump #wow birthday whump day 11 #used as bait #multiple whumpees #multiple whumpers #slavery whump #lady whump #uh oh these ocs wont leave my mind #help #lore too

13 notes · View notes